#i was actually sobbing when i found this again
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Cry Baby
Pairing: Matt x crybaby!popular!reader
Wordcount : 3.3K+
Summary: you were popular. The jester of the group. But atleast it was something. Nobody knew just how much you’d been struggling, until your secrets were exposed in the school cafeteria.
Warnings: swearing, angst, crying, mentioned of depression, Matt’s PoV, sensitive!reader, mentions of SH, SH mocking, humiliation, exposing secrets, fake friends, hurt/comfort, pet names (baby), use of y/n
(A/N: I wrote this based of this song. Bcs I was listening to it and had this scenario in my head, so I wrote it down.)
You had always been a bit of a crybaby.
You’re the oldest sibling. Your mother thought she couldn’t have any children, but she had. You were a blessing to her.
So after you were born you were never put down. Someone was always with you. To keep you from crying, entertaining you. Caving to your needs.
But once you got to kindergarten, it seemed that all those times your parents hushed you and made sure you didn’t cry had bottled up.
You didn’t speak a lot. You didn’t like socializing with people. You kept to yourself and that’s how you liked it.
You had severe attachment issues to your mom though. Because of her always being with you to soothe you, her not being there seemed like a nightmare.
So when she dropped you off at kindergarden, every day, you would cry, begging your mom to stay.
Eventually you got used to it, but you quickly found a friend to cling to.
Emma, was your one and only friend. The only person you talked to.
It was pretty much the same in elementary school. You’d trod around and talk to people. You were a bubbly social kid.
But you were also easy to break.
You didn’t have a lot of friends. All friends you had were only people you’d hang around in recess.
Emma stuck with you though.
Until, middle school.
In middle school you’d, for some reason, fallen into a depressive mindset.
Emma and you were in your awkward middle school phases. And in that time she’d become really rude.
And one day during a fight she told you how much she hated listening to your sobs.
You’d been vulnerable around her. You had trusted her.
And she’d broken that trust. By telling you that every time you had seeked her comfort she actually didn’t want to give it to you.
Your heart’s too big for your body.
You two stopped talking after that day. Until four months later Emma apologized for her words. You, being an empath, excepted the apology and went back to being friends with her.
Little did she know that her words rang through your head while you cut yourself.
A few months after you became friend again, she moved. She moved out of the country. You never saw her again.
So for high school you had taken it spoon yourself to mask your depression and ‘get over yourself’.
You started to dress more basic, learning to do your make up, hair, skincare. And basically everything to hide your miserable state the best you could.
Somehow it worked.
You had good facial proportions, and just a little bit of work you looked like a basic mean girl who is full of herself. But that was exactly the point.
Somehow, once High school started, you managed to get into the clique of the popular girls.
You were always so upbeat, cheery and talkative. No one could ever guess that you’re the most depressive mother fucker in a 50 mile radius.
Though as much as you would like the power of being the leader of the group, you were not. You were more like the jester of the group than anything.
You had held your mental breakdowns to a minimum. Holding back as much as you could. You only had Few panic attacks nowadays. And if you had one in school, you always had a touch up make up bag there.
Now it was senior year. You got ready like usual, not knowing that today would alter your life and the way people perceive you.
Matt’s PoV
I watch in horror.
Y/n is one of the popular girls in our school.
I’m not too popular. But I’m well known, all due to the fact that I’m a triplet. And due to the fact that Nick and Chris are really extroverted people.
Both of them are currently not with me.
Chris is sick at home. While Nick is in the library with some of our female friends.
I sit at my table with the lacrosse team around Me.
The entire cafeteria has their eyes focused on y/n.
She was arguably the prettiest out of all the popular girls.
But right now she was crying, Biting her lip. Her head tilted forward in shame at the claims her group was throwing at her.
The leader of the popular girls, Kelly, was accusing y/n of stealing her boyfriend at first, yelling right in her face. She yelled right back at Kelly though, not scared to stand up for herself.
But Kelly being the leader of the group, all the other girls sided with her.
I never understood why people would talk, or would argue, about stuff like this in public places. It was humiliating.
I was getting second hand embarrassment just watching.
The insults were getting more and more personal by the second.
Nobody was doing anything, captivated by the scene unfolding in front of them. Some people have their phones out filming for, ..who knows what reason.
I drown out most of the insults-
“IS THAT WHY YOU FUCKING CUT YOURSELF?” Kelly yells right back in y/n’s face.
The cafeteria had already been quiet. But with those words even the quiet conversations stopped. It seemed like everyone’s attention snapped back to the scene.
It was the passerby effect in full force. No one was doing anything, too shocked. Not even the teachers that were present said anything.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
My ear start ringing, my eyes staying glued on y/n.
To me, it was obvious that something about y/n was off. She was polished to perfection. To a concerning degree. Nobody was that perfect.
So the revelation didn’t necessarily shock me. But the fact that Kelly was heartless enough to air y/n’s business out like that.
“I don’t.” Y/n’s words cut harshly through the quiet cafeteria. Her words are insistent like she was telling the truth.
She was a great liar, yet everyone would believe Kelly over her. Even if it was a lie.
“Oh but you do.” Kelly scoffs looking at the people y/n used to call friends. They all nod at Kelly’s statement.
“You have those scars all over your wrists.” Kelly points out nodding down to y/n’s wrists.
It’s like everyone takes a collective look down at her arms to see if something is actually there.
Me being so far away from their table I can’t see it clearly. But I really don’t want to anyway.
I watch as Y/n lets her head fall forward letting out a small laugh, shocking everyone in the cafeteria including me.
Y/n’s hands are trembling and shaking. She purses her lips looking back up at Kelly who looks at her with superiority.
Y/n picks her head back up and leans her head up to readjust her hair. Her hands ball into fists before she crosses her arms, trying to keep her composure.
Even from being a few tables away from the scene i can clearly see the tears running down her cheeks.
She huffs a laugh through a sob.
“Some friends you fucking are” she says harshly her glare focused on the girls around Kelly that she used to call friends.
The cafeteria is silent again for a moment the only thing heard being y/n’s soft sniffles
“Crybaby” one of the girls huffs under her breath, but its loud and clear in the silent cafeteria.
“Fuck you Rebecca.” I hear y/n’s voice snap at the girl. Despite crying her tone was still sharp.
“What’re you gonna do about it, gonna go home and cut yourself some more?” Another one of the girls in the group scoffs.
Y/n lets out another miserable chuckle hearing the comment.
I purse my lips remaining seated. I probably look miserable right now. I don’t want to be watching this. Hell I would like to stop this, but I can’t.
Before y/n can fire back though more and more comments from all the girls pore out. And the more: “you gonna kill yourself?” “you gonna cut yourself?” remarks they make the more humiliated y/n looks.
By the end of their relentless comments and bullying y/n is crying sobbing. And as someone with anxiety I can see the inevitable anxiety attack, in the way her entire body shakes.
With a strong “fuck you all” to her former friends y/n turns in her heels and leaves.
The cafeteria is quiet for a moment before the room breaks out in conversation, everyone gossiping about the scene they just witnessed. Debating how much of what was said was true.
I feel sick to my stomach knowing I had watched a girl just get torn down by her own, so called friends, like that, and didn’t do anything.
I mumble an excuse to my friends leaving the table. They don’t even seem to care emerged in their own conversations about the ‘gossip’.
I speed walk out of the cafeteria to find y/n.
There are only two places I can think of her being at. The girls bathroom, wich is probably not the case since she looked like she wanted to get as far away as possible,
Or her car.
She’d parked next to my van today. So I run out of the school to my car, to see hers still parked next to mine. I glance into it and she’s not in the drivers seat.
I get closer, catching my breath. I look through the window of the backseat seeing her sitting there curled up in on herself.
I knock on the car window catching her attention. Y/n’s beautiful teary eyes meet mine through the tinted glass.
She presses on a button on her car keys, the car unlocking.
Immediately I open the car door and slide in. My gaze soft as I look at the hyperventilating girl in front of me.
I close the door behind me. I gently take the car keys out of her hands. She was clinging to it like her life depended on it. I lock the car again and then lean to the front of the car and toss her keys on the drivers seat.
I turn back to y/n, she had her legs up to her chest hugging them while she continues to sob.
“Matt” she breaths out my name so tenderly.
We weren’t friends. But we shared one class in which we partnered up sometimes.
“Sh, you’re okay y/n” I breathe out. In an instant, my arms wrap around her smaller frame pulling her into me. I hug her from the side, her sobs wracking her body.
“No, no it’s not okay.” She lets out an irritated sigh, her breath hitching as a sobs Tores through her body again. “I just lost all my friends.”
I purse my lips holding her head. I cradle her into my chest. She didn’t deserve to have her stuff aired out like that, but all she was worried about was loosing her fake ass friends?
“Oh baby.” I sigh out. The nickname slips through my lips so effortlessly I didn’t even notice.
I keep her head cradled into my chest while I feel tears start to form in my own eyes.
“They ruined it.” She chokes out again, her voice shaky.
I breathe in heavily. “They ruined what?” I ask gently.
“My reputation”
I pause. My lips quiver at the sound of her cries. I try to blink away my own tears.
“That’s all you care about?” The words leave my lips before they register. I know she cares about all the things others say to her. She just seems like the type to.
“Matt, I spend so much time,” she sobs through the few words she said. Pausing to cry some more at the thought of it. “So, so much time, perfecting myself.”
I hear her pause again, and by this point I can’t hold back my own tears. I let out a soft sob crying with her as I hold her even closer to myself.
“I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s none of their business” her words are soft. But the more she talks the more quiet she gets.
In a way she was like me. Masking her sorrow like that. She always just seemed too perfect to be true.
Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect face. Great humor, nice, kind, popular.
But nobody ever questioned it. She had everyone fooled. She was a great liar. And even though I had my suspicions she never gave me a reason to believe I was right.
I just thought I was delusional for reading into things.
But I was right.
As much as I wish I wasn’t.
“I’m so sorry.” I whisper. I try to breathe hard as to not sob like she was. I wanted to comfort her not cry with her.
She pulls away slightly. I look at her. She still has tears running down her cheeks, not looking like it’d stop soon. She looks up at me through her tear stained lashes, her mascara only slightly smudged.
Her lips quivers as I see another wave of sadness wash over her. “Why are you crying?” She asks her voice shaky. She lets out another choked sob.
Her hands cup my cheeks as we both cry looking at the other. “Please don’t cry,” the sight of my tears only seems to make her more sad.
But seeing the way she looked crying, I only wanted to cry harder.
She still looked perfect. Though her makeup was smudged slightly, her hair messy, her perfect features stained with her tears.
I gently grab her wrists slowly pulling her hands off of my face. I pull up the sleeve of her longs sleeved shirt and flip her arm to look at her wrist.
My gut clenches at the sight of the tiny white healed marks. They were barely noticeable anymore.
I had noticed them before when we had partnered up for some project. But out of respect I didn’t say anything. Besides they weren’t that bad, thin, white stripes messily across her wrist.
For all I knew it could’ve been her cat. I don’t have a cat, and neither have I seen self harm cuts before, so I wouldn’t know the difference.
I purse my lips. I let my head fall forward slightly my eyes closed. I feel sick to my stomach knowing someone as perfect as y/n was, or had been cutting herself at some point.
I hear a choked sob fall from her lips. I feel her intense stare burn through my scalp.
I pick up my head again, my eyes immediately looking to hers. She was crying again. Making me also shed a few tears again.
I bring her wrist up to my face leaving a gentle peck on it.
She watches me. The sight only making her cry more. She closes her eyes briefly.
It wasn’t like she’d expected me out of all people to shame her for her scars. But she also hadn’t expected him to just kiss them.
“You didn’t deserve that sweetheart.” I whisper under my breath. I pull her back in leaving a firm kiss on her forehead before cradling her head back into my chest.
She breaks out into sobs again her arms going under mine and hugging me tightly.
She was clinging to me tightly, her sobs wrecking her body, and also making me cry.
I gently pat down her hair,as she keeps crying, trying to soothe both of us.
“Y/n.” She pulls back slightly, her arm still wrapped around me. “Do you still..” I trail off not wanting to say it. Because if I say it, it’ll be too true.
Her lip quivers as I see her glossy eyes shed tears again. She lets out a gut wrenching sob again pressing her face into my chest again, mumbling “I’m sorry”s over and over again.
I sigh sympathetically, rubbing her scalp. I knew from experience, that after crying so much, your head would hurt so bad. And even though she was still crying I wanted to soothe her.
“Honey.” I say gently pulling her away from me. Our eyes meet briefly before she looks down in shame. I gently grab her cheek again making her look back up at me.
“Where do you cut?” I ask softly. I grimace at the words leaving my lips. I calmed down not crying anymore, but my eyes staying glassy.
Her eyebrows are scrunched together as she slightly pouts. Her eyes were still glassy, threatening to break out in sobs again.
“I don’t do it often..” she whispers under her breath, trying to over herself. Her eyes close briefly shame written all other her face.
“Where.” My tone is still low, but more firm, demanding an answer.
“My thigh.” She lets one of her Chanda fall from around me resting her hand on her very upper right thigh.
My eyes soften even further. My tears had dried in my face by now, but I felt just about ready to cry again.
I shift slightly. Her hand that had still been around me going to the bottom of my shirt and keeping a firm grip on the fabric.
I put my hand on her waist my touch featherlight, not wanting to overstep. “Is this okay?”
She purses her lips. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she tries to read what I’m trying to do. But she ultimately nods.
I put both my hands on her waist and pick her up from next to me putting her on my lap. She lets out a shaky breath her eyes going wide.
“Is this okay?” I enquirer my tone staying low.
Her bottom lip wobbles again. She closes her eyes briefly. “I don’t wanna go anything.” She breaths out her voice small and almost afraid.
My own eyes widen for a second looking back at her. I just realized how bad this looked without context. But I’m not a dick. I want to comfort her, not get in her pants.
I take my hands from her waist putting them on my thighs. Yet she doesn’t make a move off of me. Her hand stayed bunched up on my shirt.
“God, I don’t mean it like that.” I breathe out. “Just, me comforting you would be easier like this?” I says slowly.
Her gaze goes up to meet mine again, her lip quivering holding herself back from crying again.
She leans forward resting her face on my collarbone. She puts her other hand on my chest too as she starts to sob again. my right hand goes to her back rubbing it gently. While my left hand goes to her thigh massaging where her scars presumably were.
Her crying makes me tear up again. So we just cry together. My hand rubbing soothing motions into her back, and my other hand finally going up to cradle her head into me further.
I whisper encouraging words. Until eventually her cries die down, and so do mine.
She pulls back slightly, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. The tip of her nose and her cheeks red. And her lips as puffy as her eyes. She is a pretty crier, but the sight still makes me feel remorseful.
I put my hand back on her right thigh gently rubbing circles on it. My other hand going to cup her cheek. She leans into my touch relaxing more. She looked more tired than anything now.
“You can always talk to me, you know that.” I breath out, finally feeling like the lump in my throat was gone.
Her hand cups my wrist keeping my hand in her face. I start to rub her cheek gently looking at her pretty face.
“You can stay with me, Nick and Chris. Alright?” She nods slightly in answer.
I move my hand from her cheek to her hair rubbing at her scalp slightly. “You want me to take you home pretty girl?” I ask softly.
After all we were still in the school parking lot.
“Please.”
Masterlist
A/N: I actually cried writing this. the first part was actually literally me. and i also used to cry a lot, and cut, so this just made me cry while writing, bcs i relate to it so much. i love you all, stay safe & clean <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh
#spotify#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo angst#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#angst#sadgirl
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my undertale 'comic' from when i was 9 💀
#i was actually sobbing when i found this again#i was 9 ok#crack art#undertale#undertale comic#art#traditional art#traditional illustration#undercomic#undertale crack#frisk#flowey#toriel#my art
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"Maria and Rhett knew each other way back when, they went to high school together. (...)Yeah, I think the spark is immediate because I think they maybe, secretly, always wanted to be together."
"I think that it's one of those relationships that never happened and never was but it was almost. And, I think, spending so much time apart, one can tend to fantasize what could be. (...) All of that ease of them seeing each other again is right there and it's almost as if they never left each other's side." - Isa and Lew on Maria and Rhett in an interview with Down and Nerdy(x)
"I also love that I get to tell a story about love in this really crazy, scary world(...) and we really want to root for them!" - Isa in an interview with SciFi Vision(x)
#outer range s1#maria olivares#rhett abbott#rhett x maria#isabel arraiza#lewis pullman#tw: alcohol#tw: flashing lights#another last s1 gifset before s2#i know most of you are rhett/lewis fans but please no maria or maria/rhett hate here! thank you!#can't wait to see them together again and how their relationship evolves(or falls apart?)#again sorry about the shitty coloring#i love how smiley she is when she kisses him in their first and last kiss scenes#i actually watched all three of their interviews together but didn't know where to put them#here's to no love triangles or cheating or babies! don't have them destroyed like bodiela was for me#lol his smile before he asks her if the beer is for trevor was so cute... had me giggling and kicking my feet for real#i hope lewis and isa get to do press together in person but i really doubt they will because lew could be filming something?#i would settle for even another zoom call interview#idk why the first peck after they made out seemed improvised to me but it did and i wanna know if it was#i found out from a podcast not too long ago that they maybe didn't do a chemistry read... wow!#the smile after she hands him a beer is adorable#tw: alcohol?#if maria teaches him spanish i will sob
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❤️🧡💚 and 🤎 :^)
Thank you!! [ Love Day Emoji Asks ]
»»———- ᴠᴇʀᴅᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ———-««
❤️ Who is the more romantic one? Do they wish their partner was more romantic?
Both are pretty romantic, in their own weird/unorthodox way. They balance each other out very well because of their bond. Where Casey lacks, Baz makes up for and vice versa. Baz is spontaneous and has a sense of adventure, whereas Casey is a bit more mellow and tends to lean towards more quiet nights in. I don't think the either mind though. Casey gets to experience things he might have never gotten to experience without Baz, whereas Bastien gets to experience stability and gentle intimacy that he's not really used to. They're both happy with how the other expresses romance.
🧡 Who said 'I love you' first?
Casey said it first, way back when they were much younger, not long after they met for the first time after getting to know the other. It was platonic then for the both of them, just best friends admitting their love and affection for the other and their wish to be in each other's lives forever.
From then on, it wasn't uncommon for them to say it to one another--whether it be for reassurance, comfort or just affectionately. It wasn't until their 30s when it shifted from platonic to romantic.
💚 Which one is more kind-hearted and who angers easily first?
Casey's definitely the more soft one between the two. Even though he's very capable of losing his temper--sometimes even over the most dumbest shit--Bastien's the one that will easily work himself up to possible cardiac arrest when pissed off. Casey is a bit more tolerant in that regard.
However, interestingly enough, Casey's the one that holds grudges while Bastien tends to get over whatever happened a bit quicker. If you piss Casey off enough, you might have to work for his forgiveness. Bastien on the other hand, offer to buy him a beer, and he's a bit more willing to hear you out.
🤎 How do they comfort each other?
[ copy/pasting from my answer here <3 ]
Bastien absolutely needs vocal reassurance and physical affection. Whenever he's having a moment, whether it's out of anger or sadness or panic, the moment Casey hugs him and reassurances Baz that he's okay and that he's 'got him', the other starts to calm down. And since Casey's a naturally affectionate person, this comes easy to him and he won't hesitate to become Baz's literal safety blanket. Bastien needs to feel loved and treasured.
When it's Casey's turn, he wants his feelings to be validated and acknowledged. Baz doesn't have to understand, he just needs to listen. He also responds well to physical affection, which Bastien is more than happy to provide. Casey's a bit more emotionally sensitive, so out of the two, he's likely the one to cry a bit easily when overwhelmed. He wants Baz's shoulder to cry on. Casey's comfort is feeling protected and taken care of.
#✧. ┊ ᴠᴇʀᴅᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ#ᴏᴄ ⋆┊ᴄᴀꜱᴇʏ ʜᴀʟᴇ#ᴏᴄ ⋆┊ʙᴀꜱᴛɪᴇɴ ‘ʙᴀᴢ’ ᴄʟᴇʀᴍᴏɴᴛ#fhdhdhs I’ve really been wanting to talk about the first time they said I love you to the other#it’s very sweet to me that the actual first time was just them expressing happiness that they found their favorite person#talk about a slow burn ghrjfjdjdje#but that’s what I mean when I say how much I love how fluid their relationship is :sobbing:#their relationship changes continuously as they both go through their lives together and no matter what--they know the other will love them#whether its as a friend/a confidant/a life partner or as a lover#in other lifetimes romance isn't always the endgame but im happy that it is in this one <3#fhdhdhs I’m rambling now but thank you so much again!
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sleepy mr baby + other random misc images
#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1. Interesting formations in the bottom of a cocoa powder container#2. more pressed four leaf clovers for the year. found all in one day#3. The picture is so blurry it's hard to tell but it's a DOUBLE clover! I've found multiple 6 leaf clovers before but usuall#y they're connected much higher up where the leaves are and sort of look like one clover. Where this one was like... connected lower down a#the stem and so it literally just looks like two 3 leaf clovers merged together.#4. Love his silly sleepy stretch bapy face#5. An interesting new matching card game thing that I tried playing a while ago. Another into my ever growing giant collection of#games that I rarely have the chance to actually play with people lol.. Current favorites are Bethump'd With Words. Tapple. Lowdown-Go.#classic Boggle and Scrabble and such. This one I think is just called 'SET' ?#For any fellow ... boardgame lovers?? theyre not really boardgames.. But when I say 'card game lovers' then it sounds more like#I'm referring to people who like to play Cards - like rummy or king's corners or jacks up or etc. And I dont mean playing cards type#games. But then if i just say 'Game lovers' then that sounds like video games... hrmm... terminology.. ANYWAY#6. PIGEONS ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD.. spotted..!! clapping cheering sobbing at their beauty so on and so forth#7. back at it again..I know all of these images look the same because I get the same exact order every single time I go to zero dregrees lo#. but it IS all separate occasions. I allow myself to go one single time a year (pretty expensive like.. $12 for the garlic noodles I think#or even $15. And probably $7 for a drink. so it's a very rare treat). (Garlic noodles with beef. matcha bubble tea. coffee bubble tea. pina#colada smoothie thing (not alcoholic). strawberry cheesecake milkshake.). Funnily looks like I'm just reposting the same image though lol#8. Random picture from that other costume I did a while ago after I had taken the wig off and my hair was sitting funny#Like a pta mom manager side bang sort of look but also with clown makeup lol#9. SKY.. very pale blue and white... perfect..#photo diary
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nah bc all the bsd writers really went to go get the milk this time
#where did everyone go#i swear everyone came out when those new dazai scenes were released#and then it was active for a week and now it's a ghost town again#like a real ghost town this time#bruh it would've been perfect if bsd were released on my birthday tho actually#too bad it's off by like 3 days#why#if it were released on my birthday that would be the best birthday gift#but hey yk what I'll take a 3 day late birthday gift#jkjk#no imagine if they animate beast tho#i'd fucking sob#i only watched the movie and found it questionably goofy#but holy fuck. beast was dark.#like. knowing what BSD could become in the end knowing what dazai could've become#or no. not even dazai. knowing what could happen if fyodor got his hands on the book?????#im scared y'all
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There’s a line that Emmanellian says early HW that I think about from time to time and I wonder if anyone else has thought similar…. When he introduces himself he emphasizes that’s he’s true born. I don’t doubt he’s done that a handful of times outside of the main story.
Let me preface with by no means do I believe he consciously made that comment to jab at Haurchefant. Not when time and time again he’s been shown to say things he hasn’t thought through which is just the beauty of his character as well as psyche. (I like to observe his mannerisms under a microscope) With that being said, after the events of the Vault I have to wonder, was there at any point he would remember when he would say things like that, remember his brother and just feel horrible. The saddest part is I know for a fact that if there were any instances were Haurchefant DID overhear comments like that, he’d forgive him in seconds flat. He’d say oh I know you truly didn’t meant it that way. Because he loves his brothers, his family.
And that doesn’t make Emmanellian feel any better about it even when he knows it to be true. Even when he knows Haurchefant would tell him not to mull so deeply over it, learn from this, move forward from it… and so on. He tries to, he really does but it’s hard. It’s disheartening. An intended to be innocuous comment in attempts to bolster his ego in front of others, to cover up his meek side… and that’s how it comes out. Insensitive. He has to live with that.
And I know he does. Tomfoolery aside, I know in my heart of hearts he does and tries to do so with some semblance of grace. It’s the least he can do, not only to honor his late brother, but for his own betterment.
#the ghoul speaks#I wanted to elaborate more but I’m sad and brain not functioning anymore#also fun fact I did not realize how much I loved Emmanellain until you see him take over camp dragonhead#I sobbed#like actually sobbed it made me so happy#and I cried again when artoirel’s npc was still around he talks about how it wasn’t easy to find someone fun the garrison#until Emmanellain spoke up that is..#he says it was then he knew he found his garrison leader#I WEPT#I don’t talk about the fortemp bros enough I should but I really love all them#I love edmont too even if I wanna kick him in the shin a lil bit#it’s lovingly I swear#stern but with love
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In my depressed era again <3
#for literally no reason ugh i hate it i hate it i hate it#probably a bad mix of overthinking and lovesickness again but what's new#i figured out why i like to do stuff until late at night until i fall asleep lol it's because i don't wanna be left alone with my thoughts#i guess that's why i could go such a long time without you know what... i always had lots of schoolwork to do and didn't have much time to-#-think about this kind of shit and once i don't have anything to do anymore i found myself in bed with a bleeding arm lmao#also let's call this my 'everyone i know hates me and my best friends despise me the most' era#still gonna stay up two more hours because i'm like a damn puppy who waits excitedly for their favorite person to come home from work#at this point i should maybe write all this shit in a diary but like. you know how my rambling posts start so y'all can just ignore#tldr i'm feeling like shit and i can't promise that i won't do something stupid again#i'm just too hung up on things that happened weeks ago but like what if it isn't actually ok now#also i know i'm too clingy and possessive with people i'm really close to but it's just my abandonment issues :(#and i know i fucked things up with other people (friendships and relationships) way too many times so i'm putting all i have into this one#still i feel like it's too much and too little at the same time idk i just Know when i really like someone and then i don't wanna lose them#but at the same time i often drive them away with my excessive love and attention because certain people are like some addiction to me#ok no that's too much already for now sorry#anyways i'm sobbing and shaking and feeling terrible and guilty#oh and unrelated but i nearly got run over by a car today 👍🏻 fucking hate drunk small town students in a mcd's parking lot#mel talks#tw self harm
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absolutely horrifying that I can’t write bird essays and draw bird pictures at the same time
#just thinking thoughts...#someone was going through my bird posts and they found my 'elaborate postcanon universe' post#and I was suddenly reminded of it again...THIS TIME WITH THE HORRIBLE ADDITIONAL THOUGHT OF.#what if they were leyendecker studies.#LIKE BOY. STOP#YOU CAN'T EVEN POST RIGHT-HAND MAN ON TUMBLR YET BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED THE BANNER FOR IT#AND YOU WANNA DO LEYENDECKER STUDIES.#YOU WANNA DO LEYENDECKER STUDIES???? SHUT UPPPP LITERALLY SHUT UP!!!#Anyways I'm saying all this to say that I actually started writing my essay on the battle against the press part 1#I was just. pacing back and forth in my room muttering under my breath and I had to get it out of my system#'and the FACT that EDEN the INSTITUTION chose to FORCE the birdmen into the limelight— and the location is at SCHOOL—#'hearkens back to the age-old concept of 'think of the children' when it comes to discussing lgbt rights'#I didn't even get to that part of the essay lol#I barely wrote anything tbh :sob:#I only covered birdmen as an urban legend in the intro#and then got sidetracked about the dangers of living as a queer person without proper resources and education#oops!#but it's only one paragraph and I don't really want to put it in a separate essay lol
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil
synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all
FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES
length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)
contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)
notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3
the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.
“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”
“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”
“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”
“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”
you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.
“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”
“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”
“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”
“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.
well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.
“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”
“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”
“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”
“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”
he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”
“we didn’t get this room.”
oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.
“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”
“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.
the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.
“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”
“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”
his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.
“no, absolutely not—”
“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.
god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.
it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.
and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.
“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”
“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”
you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss.
“satoru—”
“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer.
so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.
“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length.
“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”
“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.
“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod.
“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips.
“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”
“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”
“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”
his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better.
“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.
“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly.
so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby.
satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”
“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes.
“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”
“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”
“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”
that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose.
they just always want more.
there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma.
the way the world works.
the way you and satoru work.
so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base.
“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”
that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants.
you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.
“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”
“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”
“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”
“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”
“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”
“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”
that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”
“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.”
he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear.
“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”
“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”
“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”
you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him.
“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind.
“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”
you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face.
his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!
“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”
“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”
you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.
“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.
the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity.
it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.
“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”
“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”
“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”
“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”
“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”
you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.
i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach
#teepods.writings#fics.#thirstee!#rich boy! au#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you
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//CURRENTLY THINKING ABOUT MAGNITUDE NEGATIVE AND I AM N O T O K A Y.
#{/getting caught in drakengard 2 feels + man let's listen to hitori -> man let's listen to oborozukiyo inori}#{/is a very lethal combination; I've found}#{/I keep saying I'm gonna reread it in full one of these days and I think this coming winter is finally gonna be it... Though tbh I might}#{/just try and binge it tonight anyways}#{/it's only like a few hours long to read if i remember right}#{/the question is: can i handle it? And who am I going to sob to about my Seere; Aadah; and Leonard feelings when I'm done??}#{/ESPECIALLY the cosmic dread i have for him at the end piece; holy fuck}#{/I still think about how poor Seere's trapped only seeing echoes and flashbacks of his friends and never being able to actually see them}#{again.... *Wailing* it's enough to make a grown man kill himself}#{/LIKE YOU THINK THE GODDESS SEAL IS BAD BUT REALLY THINKING ABOUT IT I THINK VERDELET HAD A POINT WHEN HE SAID THIS SHIT WAS WORSE}#{/like... Depending on whether or not you think an afterlife exists in the DOD universe (or if Caim and his buds even GET to see it what}#{/with their angering the gods and all) they at LEAST get a *chance* at seeing each other in said afterlife}#{/but none of them will see Seere again and Seere won't see them.... :( and that hurts (just a little)}#{/I just need him out of there and given just a DAY in some A.I. 2001 shit where he can spend hanging out with his friends like any other}#{/they can all make the most of it and let the good times roll so MY HEART DOESN'T HAVE TO HURT LIKE THISSSS UGH}#{/Seere fluff fiction for ever. take his ass to the tavern where he can get as much bean soup with eggs as he WANTS}#{/you know sometimes I think it's honestly good i can't afford a therapist ngl; that's one less insane person in the world}
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Killer Eyes
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: when a lowly prisoner's eyes meet the ones of a kind young woman, his heart fills with a will to live again
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x fem!reader, ft jeong yunho (not a love interest)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜��𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.4k
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, prisoner!mingi, prisondoctor!reader, prison theme
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, body worshipping, praising, size kink, possessive kink, marking, v-card loss, fingering, squirting, creampie
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: self h*rming, attempted s*icide, bullying, violence, swearing, r*pe mentions, unprotected sex
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.
song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.
mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.
he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.
"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.
nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.
loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.
"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"
at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.
the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.
"stand up."
the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.
"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.
he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.
"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.
he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.
"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.
the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.
"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.
"excuse me, what is going on here?"
a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.
"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."
"that man needs help!"
"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."
"help"
his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.
"i'm calling help, mr barnes."
"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."
mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.
you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.
you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?
"i want a patient change."
"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.
"he's a human before everything, sir."
the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.
"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"
"i'm just a doctor–"
"–s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."
"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.
"then act like it."
he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.
"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.
at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.
"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"
you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.
"understood?!"
"yes, yes–"
your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.
"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."
"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."
"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."
"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."
"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.
"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.
you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.
"dismissed."
days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.
a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.
what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.
you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.
your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.
your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.
PRISONER INFO
name: mingi song
record id: ##############
nationality: korean
gender: male
citizen: yes
eye colour: brown
hair colour: brown
dob: 09081999
age: 24
height: 183 cm
weight: 75 kg
ARREST & SENTENCING INFO
date: 25122022
charge: kidnapping, assault, voluntary manslaughter, domestic violence
summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.
you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.
the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.
"jeong office."
"i'll need you to cover for me today."
"doctor?"
"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."
it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.
"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."
"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."
"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.
you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.
you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.
"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.
they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.
"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."
"no, sit on mine!"
"i'd rather her sit between my legs."
"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"
you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.
you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.
"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.
"what is it, elijah?"
the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.
"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."
and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.
"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.
he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.
"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."
he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.
"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.
you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.
"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"
you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.
"imagine how it hurts me."
you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.
"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"
"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."
"the source of my pain, doctor. please."
your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.
"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"
"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."
you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.
he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.
"mr song?"
"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."
he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.
"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."
"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.
at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.
"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"
"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."
"mingi," he exhales.
"i'm not supposed to-"
"please."
you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?
"okay, mingi."
his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.
"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.
"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"
"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."
he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.
"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"
"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."
your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.
"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.
he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.
"mingi, you will have to let me go."
"just a bit more, please."
"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."
the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.
"lift your shirt up for me, please?"
he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.
you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.
you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.
"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"
"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.
he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.
"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.
he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.
"you're pretty." he blurts out.
"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.
"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.
"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.
"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.
"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."
you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.
"oh, god. what is this?"
"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.
"a belt?!"
"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."
"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.
you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.
"and what about this? does this hurt-?"
"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.
your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.
"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."
"x-ray? what could it be?"
"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."
he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.
"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.
"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."
your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.
"are you eating properly?"
he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.
"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."
"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.
he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.
"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.
"nothing."
"you can tell me." you push.
the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.
"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.
"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.
his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.
"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."
you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.
"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.
a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.
the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.
"good morning, mingi."
he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.
"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.
"good morn–"
slap.
mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.
"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"
the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.
"did I make myself clear?!"
"yes, yes! perfectly clear."
mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.
"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.
his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.
"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."
you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.
a good boy.
he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.
"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"
he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.
he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.
"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."
but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.
you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.
in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.
he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.
he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.
your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.
his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.
he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.
"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.
"shut the hell up."
the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.
"that lip cut looks new." you comment.
"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.
"cole?"
"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.
"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"
"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.
"okay."
mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.
"here's your medication."
you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.
"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.
"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.
"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.
the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.
"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.
"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.
"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.
"canteen?"
"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."
and with another smile, you are gone.
canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.
the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.
"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."
"okay," he finally agrees.
he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.
with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?
"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.
the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.
he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.
"well, well. lookie here."
three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.
"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.
"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.
"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.
"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.
they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?
"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.
"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"
"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"
"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.
"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."
the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.
jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.
"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"
"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."
"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."
"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."
"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."
mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.
"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"
"i'd rather her give me a head."
"i heard she's a virgin."
"aw, i get to be her first and last!"
mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.
one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat.
"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.
mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.
"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.
"what the fuck?!"
"oh my god!"
"who let him in here?"
"run!"
"get dr rachel!"
his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.
he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is slowly turning red.
"safe..." he whispers.
jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.
"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.
"safe from what, mingi?"
"i'll keep you safe."
his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.
"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"
dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.
"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."
"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.
"mr jeong?" she searches for support.
but he remains silent.
"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"
"shut up."
"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."
"shut up."
"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."
"shut up."
"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.
"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"
tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.
"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"
your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.
you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.
"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."
and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.
"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.
days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.
you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?
"doctor?"
you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.
"how is he?" you ask before thinking.
elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.
"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."
"how are his injuries? anything new?"
"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."
you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.
"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.
"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"
"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."
"i need to see him."
"no."
"make it happen, please. please, elijah."
"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."
you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."
elijah exhales. "fine."
at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.
hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.
you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.
"mingi," you call in a whisper.
his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.
"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.
"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."
"well, i'm not."
you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.
"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"
when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.
"i'm sorry," you choke out.
you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.
"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."
his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.
"can i? please?"
"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.
"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."
"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."
"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."
a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.
"barnes! care for a drink?"
"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."
"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."
"you paying?"
"sure am."
"then what the fuck we waiting for?"
the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.
"my savior," he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.
"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"
mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.
sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."
"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.
his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.
"so it's true."
"what is?"
"you're a virgin."
"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"
"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."
oh. oh.
"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."
"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."
the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.
"don't be a brat. i came to see you."
"and you did. i'm fine. now go."
"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"
"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."
"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."
he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.
mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.
"i can't."
"why not?"
"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."
"maybe i want to be hurt."
"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."
your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.
"i'd break you."
you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.
"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.
"and if you regret it?"
"i'll get over it."
with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.
"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.
"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."
"touch me more. i need more."
the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.
he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.
"should i take it off?"
"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."
"but won't it be difficult?"
"let me do the worrying. you just relax."
with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.
"stay still for me, princess."
a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.
"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."
"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"
"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal.
and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.
he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.
"does it hurt, doctor?"
"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.
"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."
his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.
"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.
"why?"
"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.
"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."
his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.
"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."
your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.
"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.
tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.
"forgive me."
"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.
"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."
his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.
"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."
you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.
"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."
then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.
"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."
"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.
"can i stuff you full of my cum?"
"you can, please."
"are you on any pills?"
"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."
mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.
"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."
"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."
"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."
"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."
"i want you all to myself."
he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.
"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."
"your cunt was shaped for me."
"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."
"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."
"and nobody will touch me, except you."
"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."
he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.
"cream all over my cock, princess. please."
he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.
"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."
you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.
"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."
your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.
jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.
my saviour, the young prisoner said.
yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.
#ateez#ateez imagine#ateez smut#ateez imagines#kpop smut#ateez x y/n#ateez x reader#ateez x you#mingi x reader#mingi smut#song mingi#ateez mingi#mingi x y/n#mingi x you#mingi imagines#mingi fanfic#song mingi x reader#song mingi x y/n#song mingi x you#mingi oneshot#ateez oneshot#ateez oneshots#ateez x atiny
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need
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
Prompt: Thigh Fucking
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv attempts, hurt pussy, some sad feelings, creampie(?) (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 2.5k
A/N: *sulking in a corner* not proofread at all
He’s gotten used to it, the constant stabbing pain at the base of his stomach, the daydreams and fantasies that plague his every free minute. He’s more sensitive too, you can do anything and it’ll turn him on, make him hard, or raise a new fantasy for him to jerk off to later that night. He got used to waking up in the morning with a throbbing pain between his legs, or a cold wetness soaking his underwear. He got used to having to sneak away to the bathroom, lock himself in his office with his blinds pulled shut because you decided to drop by, or you made him lunch and left a note that was a bit too cute for him to handle.
He never asked why you didn’t seem to have any sexual interest in him. He assumed that you either didn’t want him that way, or you weren't ready. So when you told him that the real reason was because you’re a virgin… His pain increased tenfold. All his fantasies, all the material he could think of late a night became visions of him taking your virginity, working his fat cock into your tight, unused, untouched, hole. It became a hindrance to his day, something he thought about more than he worried about canon events. He couldn’t get you out of his head, he didn't want to pressure you so he didn’t voice desperation, but it’s like you were trying to provoke him.
You became more open, more okay with talking about sex, and your fantasies and asking him questions, voicing your curiosities. He found out that you actually think about him quite a bit, almost all the time apparently. There was an entire night, filled with a few blunts and alcohol where you spent hours, literal hours, telling him about all the fantasies you’ve had. You told him about your most used ones, all the ‘odd’ things that turn you on. He had to hide his boner, almost crushing his beer in his hand with how tense he was and his needs doubled again, turning his blood to molten lava.
Then you offered it to him, you came to him and told him you wanted him to be the one who takes your virginity, you wanted his cock to be the first to enter your special little cunt. He almost blacked out. He came at you like a frenzy that night, licking and sucking every part of your body before working you open and lining himself up with your precious hole. Only to find that he couldn’t fit. You couldn’t take all of him, he was able to get a quarter of his dick inside before tears were streaming down your face. You told him he could keep going, that you could take it but you were on the verge of sobbing, there wasn't one break in your stream of tears and this is not the way he wanted you crying on him. He pulled out against your will and spent the night comforting you, telling you it’s fine, that you can try again, as many times as you need… and that's what you guys did.
It’s been about two months of trying to fit him inside you and it’s becoming unbearable. You guys try every other night, sometimes taking more time in between if you’re too sore or you guys are swamped at work. You guys haven’t done anything else in this entire period of time, wanting the next thing you do together, to be him taking your virginity. He agreed not realizing how long it would take. His hand is nowhere near sufficient anymore, no matter how he tries to pretend it’s yours- especially now that he’s had half his dick inside you. It’s a cycle of build-up, tease, Miguel comforting you, and no-release.
You’re both pent-up. It’s another night of disappointment, you guys had gotten a little further this time, almost his whole cock and you began to think that this was it, Miguel was finally going to have your virginity. Instead, you tore. It was small, it didn’t even feel like much, a sharp burn at the base of your hole. You decided you would just power through, the burn was worth the fulfillment you’d feel at taking him all, at long last, having your boyfriend be completely connected with you, completely surrounded by you. But Miguel knew you were bleeding, there wasn’t enough that he could see it but he could smell the copper in the air and he forced you to stop.
You fell asleep upset with yourself and listening to Miguel’s loving words, assuring you he’d rather you enjoy yourself than power through for him but you just felt like a failure. All your life you dreamed of losing your virginity to someone you love, someone who cares about you, someone who deserves it, and now that you’ve finally found that person, you can’t even give it to him. You’re too embarrassed to concede, to give up and jerk him off instead. You want him to cum inside you, you’ve even started birth control secretly, hoping to surprise him once he gets close enough. You’d fantasized about the moan he’d let out once telling him that he can just cum inside you, but you’re too small to even get him anywhere near cumming, let alone inside you.
You wake up to Miguel groaning in pain, you’re a bit scared at the noise but your fear gets replaced by sadness once you see the source of his pain; a fat bulge resting over his thigh, tenting the sheets slightly. You peak up at his face, making sure it’s slack with sleep before focusing on his hard cock again. You sit, lift your head and rest it on your palm, leaning over Miguel a bit as your other hand comes to stroke over the bulge gently. Your eyes are fixed on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch with your touch. It brings a little rush of pleasure through you, knowing you can pleasure him with the slightest bit of pressure.
You cover him with your hand, cupping it to feel its length and girth against your palm. He whimpers lightly, a sound you’ve never even fantasized about hearing from him, but you know that no matter what you do, you need to hear it again. You can feel his warmth and the way he’s pulsing under your hand, his fingers dig into the sheets gently next to his thighs and his hips lift off the bed momentarily, trying to pleasure himself with you.
Your eyes leave his face to watch his movements, deciding to give him some mercy and rub your hand along his shaft, stimulating him through his sweatpants and the thin blanket. You’re mesmerized by his stuttering, sleepy movements, at the soft whimpers that fall loosely from his lips. A gasp breaks the trance and his hands lift from the bed quickly to grip your wrists and his hips thrust up, forcing your palm to put pressure on his sensitive cock and just stay. “B-Baby- ”
His voice is thick and confused with delirium, still not completely aware of what’s happening but all he knows is he doesn’t want you to stop. He’s buzzing, thrumming, and vibrating with arousal, with desperation for you, need for you.
His eyes meet yours in the dark, taking in your obviously turned-on state, how dilated your eyes are and how your sweet scent is already soaking the air, your taste ghosting over his tongue with every breath he takes. His eyes roll back at the thought, paired with your pressure on his throbbing cock and you pull away. He tries to hold in his groan, trying to be grateful for anything you’ll give him but a small squeak of sadness is what comes out and he chuckles softly at the noise.
You’re still silent, surrounded by your need for him, the only thought in your head is that you need to make him cum. His thick arm comes around you, resting next to your shoulder and pushing you to him gently, nudging you in his direction for a kiss. You smile and drape yourself over his chest, leaning on him and pressing your lips to him. He groans and pulls you closer, admiring your warmth and pressing his cock into the plush of your thighs as he pulls you on top of him. You giggle and help him situate you over him, the base of his cock resting against your neglected clit, sending a shock of pleasure through you and turning your giggles into a light whine.
Miguel breathes in a sharp breath at your noise, trying to ignore how badly he wants to hold you down and just grind his cock into you until he cums, staining his clothes and hopefully leaving a mark on yours but he keeps himself in check, offering you a fond smile instead. “You okay, amor?” His hand is rubbing up and down your back now, calmly like he isn’t throbbing against your clit right now. You think of just grinding into him, sitting up to straddle him, and just fucking his bulge into your clit until you’re cumming all over him. “I wanna cum.” Your voice is weak and pathetic, tired and desperate.
His eyelids flutter at your words and tone, and his arms tense around you, pressing his muscles into your sides for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Yeah? I can-” He takes another shaky breath as his cock throbs beneath you. “I can make that happen, baby. How do you want it?” His stomach is burning at his words, at the hope of getting to touch you, to make you cum. You’re just staring at him, watching him as you think, trying to figure out a way that will satisfy you both. He’s just getting hotter under your gaze, riled up further by your eyes as his hips rise off the bed slowly, pressing his cock into you subconsciously and his eyelids flutter shut at the pleasure.
Your brain is hazy with his movements, his subtle desperation, it’s driving you crazy. You arch your back and seize his lips again with a soft moan. His hands grip your hips, pulling you into him with a groan. You pull away and pant against his lips, running your fingers through his slightly tangled curls and pressing your forehead against his. “Put it against me. Between my thighs.” He growls at your request and flips you both onto your sides, already nodding at you and working his sweatpants off of his legs, kicking them off under the covers. “You want that, honey?”
His hand cups your face as his other wrestles his cock from its confines. “You want that? Take these off.” He yanks at your underwear, roughly enough that they dig into your skin harshly before snapping back. You wiggle them off and slide your shirt off, wanting to be as close to Miguel as you can. You can’t stop the pout that settles on your face when you realize he plans to leave his shirt on. He laughs lovingly at your face. “Want me to take it off?” He says with a teasing tilt to his voice. You laugh and slide closer to him, taking the hem of his shirt into your hands and already trying to pull it over his head. “Jus wanna be closer t’you, Miggy.”
The nickname flips something inside him. You only use that name when you’re feeling extra soft for him, extra tender, and needy. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He pulls you in for a quick kiss before taking his shirt off and kissing you again, swallowing the whine you give him when your naked body rests against his. His wet cock slides against your skin, teasing his sensitive tip, forcing a ragged moan from his mouth when it slides over your mound. You giggle at his reaction, smiling at his eyes, squeezed shut as he takes slow breaths, trying to calm himself. You open your legs, grip his cock, and rest it on your thigh, his eyes snap open. You smile and pull him in for another kiss as he reaches behind him blindly for some lube, lotion, coconut oil- something to get your thighs anywhere near as wet as your pussy is.
You take rest your hand over his as he rubs himself with lube, moaning into your mouth at the sensation. He brings his hand to your face, giggling and apologizing when it smears with lube but devouring you in a kiss once you tell him it’s okay. You close your legs over his cock and whimper into the kiss when his shaft fits itself between your lips. He pulls away with a moan and his hips start fucking into you fervently, overly sensitive and desperate after months of denial. You’re moaning loud and whiny at the way he’s assaulting your clit, constantly stimulating her from the way he’s thrusting against you. You’re digging into his shoulders, feeling the way they flex as his hands grip your hips and run all over your body frantically.
“I’m not gonna last, mi amor.” The words spit out of him quickly as his thrusts get shorter, more focused on making himself cum than making the moment last. His head is clouded with need, his balls are pulsing painfully and his cock is throbbing between your thighs. You’re gripping his hair like you’ll fly away if you let go and moaning his name like it’s the only word you know. Your hips are bucking into him too now, some incoherent words falling from your lips like music to his ears.
You’re trying to tell him that you won’t last either, that you’re on the brink of cumming already, that you’ve been craving him for months, and finally having him is one of the best things you’ve felt but your brain has been shut off since he started moving his hips. You can feel the heat in your stomach bubbling over already, spilling into your bloodstream as you shake against him. “Mig-” Your thighs tense and shake around his cock as he groans your name, almost overwhelmed with how you’re stimulating his cock, at how you’ve been unable to get any sound out but once you’re cumming you can find the strength to say his name. You’re shaking on him, your eyes are rolled back into your head and your jaw is dropped open in a silent moan.
He’s able to grunt out a warning to you before thrusting once- twice- you reach down for his cock and spread your legs, opening to fit him against your entrance. His third thrust stutters to a stop and he’s cumming.
Fuck. He’s cumming inside you.
He folds over like he’s been punched in the gut, a rough moan tearing from his chest as his cock throbs against your wet walls. He sounds distraught, like you’ve ruined him. His entire body is tensing in time with the ropes of cum he’s filling you with. It’s an entire flood, a surplus of cum he’s pouring into you, he feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He never even imagined that you’d let him cum inside you, let alone that it’d feel so fucking good. He shudders out a groan and holds you to his chest, giving you curt thrusts to ensure he doesn’t push in too deep but still trying to fuck him cum into you. His eyes are crossed painfully and all the air is gone from his lungs as you pulse around him, massaging his tip and forcing him to give you more cum.
Your name is the only thing he can utter as his cock spews its last few ropes into you, softening and letting his cum leak onto your thighs, leaving a slick, shimmering trail on you as it soaks into the bed.
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!
#miguel ohara x reader#miguel smut#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara smut#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miggy o’hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara spider man#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara#2099#sm 2099#miguel 2099#marvel 2099#miguel o hara#astv miguel#miguel atsv#miguel x you#atsv#kinktober 2023#kinktober#kinktober smut
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There was a teen in the cave.
A teen no one knows and looks like he could be a wayne, stands in the cave.
"Actually, I'm a wayne." He says with a shrug.
Bruce, Batman, carefully thinks of the implication.
"Not yet," The teen, Danny, doesn't say anything. Simple smiles. "You're not a wayne, yet. You will be. But not yet."
Then Bruce sighs, dropping the batman mask in order to take in the teen.
"Does future me know of the time travel?"
Dannys smile grows into a grin, deciding to take pity on the man. "You, grandbat, have..." He makes a vague gesture. "Theories, which none of your children ever confirmed."
The bat's mind short-circuits at the choice of words
Dick is sputtering incomprehensibly, there are Baffled expression all around.
Because.
Because that child isn't Bruce's, but one of theirs.
"Who is it?" Jason demands, hand clenching his gun uselessly.
Danny continues to smile, a hint of mischief now peeking out.
The cave is filled with theories, some yell, some sob, yet all eyes leave danny.
All but one pair.
She had known the moment his body language switched just enough for her to read.
She had known the moment he disappeared before the clan.
Had known when his hand found hers, shoulders bumping.
Her heart clenches, throat dry and memories of her childhood flooding to mind.
So she asks, voice soft and hesitant.
"Am I a good mother?"
And danny looks up at cass, adoration and pride laid out plain for her to see and accept.
"You're the best."
And so they both watch the clan together, silent and comfortable.
(Cass doesn't question when she finds him, how and why. All she knows is that she's more attentive when out on patrol, looking and waiting.)
(This is how Cassandra Cain-Wayne returns one night from patrol, a child, barely out of toddler stage and clinging to her form.)
(This is how the Batclan officially meets one Daniel James Cain-Wayne, freshly washed and clothed, a cookie in hand and hiding shyly behind Cass.)
(When they meet, all they say is "Welcome home, danny," and "Good to see you again.", Danny doesn't necessarily get it, but that's okay. Maybe his new mom will explain it one day when he's bigger.)
#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#fic prompt#writing prompt#dc x dp prompt#cassandra cain is dannys mom#time travel shenanigans lead to conspiracy theories#half of the batclan think jason is the dad#or dick#damian and tim are outruled just bc age and tim denying it with no one protesting#alfred knows#danny moves like cass#he gave them both a cookie in the shadows#danny won him over by calling him great grand bat#he tells him of all the mischief they got up to bc no one would believe the baby had alfie wrapped around his finger like that#theyre just in denial#theyre all wrapped around the finger#danny “i mastered how to wrpaonize my cuteness” cain-wayne
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𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐌𝐄
DAY 2: SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK
With: Satoru Gojo
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Sub! Gojo, Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo
A/N: this was actually really fun to write! i did a little research on what subspace feels like, and it says it varies from person to person, but it is a sort of euphoric experience. sooo idk! lol. also, a lot of ppl r here for gojos personality, and I feel bad bc he is not like his usual self in this bc of his headspace...dont hate me gojo simps
Gojo Satoru is kinky. Plain and simple. He has tried many different things throughout his lifetime, and he is now confident enough in many different types of sexual play. He spends way too much time on the internet buying all sorts of toys, cuffs, ropes, whips, just to build his secret obsession. He has been with many people, and has always pulled them down to the dark side with him.
But through it all, he has never found a partner to really push him to his limits. They all get too scared to hurt him, and call their safeword too early. They get uncomfortable when he sobs for mercy, or in other situations, begs for more pain. Gojo doesn't want to be just treated harshly, he wants to be broken. His standards are higher than most.
And finally his dreams came true when he met you. You've been into BDSM for years now, and even if the two of you are dating, you have a strict contract of rules you must obey for eachothers safety. It was cute, he was practically trembling in excitement when he saw the agreement, signing his hame sloppily, and waiting for your next move.
It was strange seeing someone so cheery and upbeat turn into a different breed during a scene. He was long passed the brat now, every defining thought fucked out of him. He's been slapped around, beaten, scolded, forced to orgasm, and humiliated in the past two hours. He has never had anyone treat him this rough.
A huge part of him loved it, and a small part of him twinged in fear whenever he heard you begin to move again. It sent a multitude of thoughts to his brain, What now? Are you going to hurt him? Was he being good now? Another punishment?
His blue eyes follow your every movement, and he flinches when you bring your hand up to his face, expecting another slap. You chuckle at the movement, gently petting his face. It takes him a second to realize what is happening, but from there, he melts into your hold. He presses himself deeper into your hand, eyes heavy from exhaustion.
Satoru accomplished his goal though. He was, for the first time ever, wrecked. His hair is matted against his head, damp from sweat. His body is covered in hickeys, bitemarks, bruises, scratches, and marks from the flogger. He was trembling, muscles contracting every couple of seconds without permission. Drools coats his lips, and it starts to drip down his mouth and onto his chin. His eyes seem to be in a different world, cloudy, and half lidded. His cock lays spent against his thigh, flushed red, and leaking just the last of his cum.
But even through it all, he's smiling at you. It’s a fucked out sort of grin, lazy, but content. His cheek is pressed against your palm, and he's nuzzling into it, basking in the softness of your touch, contrasting your earlier actions. “There ya go. You doing all right, Satoru?”
He blinks at you, slow, and thoughtless. “Yeah.”
You climb onto the bed next to him, brushing his hair back affectionately, and a little worriedly. He looked rather beat, and his exhausted eyes made you want to end the session now. “Alright, lets clean you up, and get you to bed,” You soothe, hands rubbing at his thighs, hoping your touch brings him comfort.
Immediately he pulls away, a small pout on his face. “Noooooo,” He uncharacteristically whines, grabbing at your hand. “Wanna…Wanna go some more. I'm doing good, right Mommy? No more punishments,” He pleads, tears coating his eyes. “Reward. Wanna reward, pleaseeee.”
Mommy wasn't todays title. You were called mistress, and master today solely. His words made your eyes widen, and you instantaneously knew he was deep into the subspace. You've seen glimpses of it, the way he becomes uncharacteristically obedient and he gets slightly giggly, probably from the light headed feeling, but he looked deep into his now. His words dragged out, and his body was obviously spent, but still he craved your approval; he wanted nothing more than to please you now.
Affection, love and care is what he needs right now and you were happy to provide him with it. So, you straddle his lap, and place kisses on every surface you can touch. His body is warm, and he goes slack against your hold, mouth falling open. “Do you want to cum again, ‘toru? Or just attention?”
He goes silent for awhile, his mind hazy, and not liking the idea of making his own choice. He wanted you to take care of him completely, to let his mind slip away, and for you to control his ever thought, movement. “Please,” He mumbles, face scrunching up with frustration.
You are quick to apologize, recognizing his situation almost instantly. “Alright, alright. I'll take care of you. Lets cum one more time, can you do that for me, pretty boy?”
Pretty boy. A nickname unlike the harsh ones he received earlier: brat, slut, dog, whore. In the moment it only increased to turn him on, but now, he wanted to be good. The thought of you calling him those names made him want to tear up, and sob into your arms. He didn't want you to be mean anymore, he wants you to love him. To praise him on anything and everything.
He jumps when he feels your hand drift back to his cock. It aches from all the abuse from earlier, and he lets out a shaky whimper, not liking the pain as much as he once did. “H-Hurts,” He yelps, wishing for you to make it better. To fix it all, why did everything ache so badly? He wants comfort, and as quickly as possible.
You kiss at his tears and pull his face into your neck. “‘m sorry. Was Mommy too rough with you today? Shhh, it’ll feel better in a bit, just relax,” You encourage, beginning to slide your hand up and down his length. He twitches and mewls from beneath you, fighting the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure. He wants this, he wants this, he wants this so badly, but he wishes it wasn't so uncomfortable.
He shakes his head into your neck, “Wasn't too rough. I'm fine, Mama j-just make me feel better, please,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and soft. One of your hands pet his hair, while the other strokes him off, shushing his cries, and reassuring that he will feel better soon.
You were right of course, the pain of overstimulation died off, and Gojo felt like he was melting. Everything is so warm, so light, he feels like he was on cloud nine. He feels loved, and every loose thought was traced back to you. “Love you s-so much.”
You grin at him, pressing your lips to his. His lips are chapped from his excessive panting, but you don't mind, licking at the plush flesh. He whimpers and groans, his hands pawing at you to pull you impossibly closer. When you pull back, he follows you, letting out a small huff in complaint. You pepper his face with kisses in apology. “Love you too. Such a good boy, Satoru, I'm so lucky to have such a pretty boy.”
He withers under the praise, nodding his head dumbly. He wants to coax so more out of you, but he can't think of ways, so he just rest his head on your chest, and chants, “Mommy” on repeat.
Your hand is slow in pace, careful to not overwhelm him. It slides up and down easily, his previous cum acting as lube. His cock is bright red, and you almost feel bad for it after pulling so many orgasms from it earlier. You are suprised he is still even awake, sure, he looks and acts exhausted, but by this long he is usually passed out. He must be awake only because he is searching for praise and comfort from earlier. To not find himself in a sub drop.
You catch his eye, and a wobbly smile pulls at his face. You chuckle at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya want from me?” He asks, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.
“Hmm?”
He taps his forehead against yours, hazy blue eyes staring into yours. “Wanna command. Wanna be useful for you.”
You smile warmly at him and he shivers, leaning up to kiss you again. You hand rubs over his small slit, and he gasps, pausing just centimeteres before you face, and moaning out.
“You are deep in this, aren't you sweet boy?” You murmur, mostly to your self, slightly astonished. It was one thing for him to ask for praise, and to make decisions for him, but actively seeking instructions from you was another. It was fascinating, and adorable to say the least, how desperately he craved approval, or wanted to feel needed, useful. Nothing how Gojo usually was like.
You thumb at his tip, and he heaves, trying to keep up with your words. But everything you say other than “sweet boy,” seems to tuned out. Everything feels blurry, expect for you face, and your sickenly sweet tone. “D-Don't understand. Please!”
“Okay, shhh, it's alright. I want you to cum for me. Can you cum for Mommy, Satoru? That's all I want you to do.” An easy command, one he can definitely fulfill. He can do that – he can definitely cum for you. Gojo feels his chest bloom with butterflies at the idea of what you'll say to him once he follows your wishes. How much praise he will receive. How good and useful he is being. It makes him shiver with excitement.
Your hand picks up speed when he nods, and he gasps, gripping onto your arms from the suddenness. His hips buck upward into the makeshift hole, and you coo at him, telling him to relax his hips. He abides without question, melting into the sheets, and you give him a kiss for a reward.
He feels himself begin to teeter along his high, and he glances up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He needs to ask for approval, he has to ask to cum, the rules were basically engrained in him, but everything is spinning, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the pressure. He feels his voice go dry, and tears begin to pool in his eyes at the prospect of disappointing you.
You take notice of his fearful face immediately, quickly leaning over to cup his face. “You can cum. Relax, hey, its alright, I want you to cum.”
He breathes a shaky sign of relief, and you wipe his tears away, thinking back to earlier of how you wiped his tears away from the ruthless pleasure/pain mix, and now simply because he was afraid that he wasn't able to ask permission before cumming. You would be lying if the power didnt get to your head.
You thoughts are cut off when Gojos entire body jerks, and a muffled, “Fuck!” is let out. His orgasm hits him like a truck, and he trembles, riding the waves. His voice is too scratchy to let out any real noise, so he just silently cries into your chest. Cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, obviously spent, and not having much left to give. You don't seem to notice it though, instead focusing on your lover, and trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.
When he comes down from it, his legs are shaking, and his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. “P-Plea–Coconut,” He weakly gets out, and you hands fly off his body in seconds from hearing the safety word. You pull away, hoping to not overwhelm him, but instead he clings to you. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Mommy, I can't. J-Just–I…Praise!” He splutters, coherent thoughts flying out of his head, as he slumps into the bed.
You nod, staying away from his cock, and instead placing his head into your lap. His body curls around you in seconds, still slightly trembling. “Did so well. Good boy Satoru. My good boy, I am so spoiled. So lucky to have you." You coo, reaching your hand up to run it through his matted hair. "Took everything so well. I'm so proud of you." A small smile pulls at his face, and everything feels so warm "I love you so much, you know that?”
“Hm,” He hums, nodding his head slightly.
You smile at him. “My perfect boy. It's time to go to sleep, I'll take care of everything. Just rest for me, that's all I need you to do.”
But he didn't even hear the last of your statements, already passed out onto you, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathes.
You sigh, and stare affectionately at the man. His naked body littered in marks, and he still managed to sleep contently with them. His body was drained of everything. Just like he asked you to do so hours prior.
Your hands roam the nightstand, grabbing healing cream, bandages, and a wash cloth. And with one last sigh, you place Gojo's head onto the pillow, and begin the long process of cleaning him up.
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#mello.writes#Barkforme!#Kinktober 2023#dom! reader#dom reader#x reader#reader insert#sub gojo#sub gojo smut#sub gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#sub! jjk
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Thinking about reader getting herself stuck in a wall for some reason and asks Scara to help her out. But because her rear end is exposed at his side, he got horny cuz she's helpless and can't help but fuck and fill her up with his seed before actually helping her out
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut.
You stared, wide eyed at what just happened. You'd been reaching for a piece of jewelry to wear whenever your hand twitched. The next thing you knew, it was falling out of your hand, falling in between the dresser and the wall.
You assessed the situation, and gathered that you indeed could fit into the space to retrieve your jewelry. Scaramouche walked into your room just in time to see you bent over in between the dresser and the wall.
"What are you doing?" He asked, crossing his arms as he watched you straining your fingers out to retrieve the jewelry.
"I dropped something," You said, sticking your tongue out in concentration. You smiled somewhat when you picked up the piece of jewelry.
You started to move back, however, you discovered that getting out was a lot harder than getting in. You started to struggle, trying to angle your body in certain ways to see if you could wiggle out.
But to avail.
You were stuck.
You let out a quiet, exasperated sigh.
"What's wrong? Are you stuck?" Scaramouche scoffed, teasing you. You couldn't see the way his eyes were fixated on your ass as he moved closer to you.
"...No," You replied, you could practically feel the shit eating smirk on his face. You wiggled a little before you sighed, defeated. You blushed when you realized what exactly you were stuck on. "...Yes. I'm stuck..on my boobs."
Scaramouche laughed. "It's not funny, Scara. I'm really stuck," You said, trying to move again. Your ass was inadvertently up against his crotch, making him swallow back a groan of lust.
"How inconvenient for you, but," He purred, grinding against you. "Very convenient for me." He pushed your skirt up around your hips, his fingers finding your clit outside your panties. He rubbed and stroked, drawing arousal to dampen your panties.
"Seriously, Scara?! I'm stuck and that's the first thing your mind?" You exclaimed, swallowing back a moan when you felt your clit beginning to swell and throb.
"You are so delicate, so helpless without me," Scaramouche pushed your panties aside, pinching your clit between his fingers. "I'll help you out," He took his fingers off of your clit to unbutton his shorts, "when I am done of course."
Taking out his cock, he pumped his hand on it before pressing the tip against your clit. You could do nothing but moan softly in pleasure, grinding back against him.
"Before I fuck you full of my cum, allow me to tell you how impractical it was not to move the dresser aside some first," Scaramouche taunted, angling your hips before he pushed his cock inside of you, bottoming out with one snap of his hips.
You gasped loudly in pleasure, your fingernails digging into the surface of the floor to ground yourself as he cock kissed your sweet spot. He hit it with well aimed accuracy, bringing your walls to quiver and clamp around his cock.
"You poor thing, you are so sensitive. Your walls always beg to squeeze around my cock the moment I fuck myself inside of you. You know I love it when you are needy," Scaramouche enjoyed the way you were quivering in pleasure, your moans bleeding into broken whimpers and sobs of pleasure.
"That's my good girl, babble about how good I am making you feel," He groaned, shuddering in pleasure from the way his cock throbbed with his impending orgasm.
His fingers found your clit again, he could feel you were close. Just a few more thrusts would push you over the edge, bringing to cream screaming on his cock.
Scaramouche fucked you through your orgasm, his cum painting your walls as it spilled inside of you. His pace never relented while he made sure hardly a drop leaked out of you.
You whined when Scaramouche pulled out of you, grinding needily against him. He chuckled, moving the dresser aside for to crawl out.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x y/n
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