#are you even alive if it doesn't want to make you smile back i don't think so
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siri-ike · 7 hours ago
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DP X DC: empty
Chapter 8
Chapter 1 chapter 7
"I think she's me." He said after a long silence.
"She can't be you. You're you." Johnny responded slowly.
He stalled a moment, "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. of course, you're right. That would be impossible. " There's no way. She can't be him, and he can't be her. But there's something about her. Something so familiar they can't possibly be separate. "I need to see her again."
Having a spirit around that can punch your father's lights out seemed like a sweet deal at first. But just like Scrooge, Johnny was quickly learning how persuasive ghosts can be. And by the time their lease was up, his bags had mysteriously been packed already.
Dani's house was pretty normal looking. She had cleared some hangers for his outdoor clothes, and there was a bedroom ready for him, too. Although it was decorated like an observatory. Does she think he's an alien or something? The ghost seems to like it.
Did he glow like that before?
"Johnny!" Dani shouted from the kitchen. "I got some takeaways from West End Burgers. Yours is on the table, I'll be in my office.
She is the weirdest woman John has ever met. For starters, she's a detective, so she carries a gun. She wears pants instead of a skirt. She doesn't even curl her hair. Or cook dinner, apparently. Then there was the whole violence thing.
When he got to the kitchen, he was surprised to see three hamburgers on a plate, still wrapped in foil. He checked the receipt to see if she actually bought 6 hamburgers for the two of them.
"You seem distraught."
"I'm perfectly traught." Johnny insisted. "I'm probably just supposed to take one, right?"
"They're on a plate together."
Johnny picked one up. "I can't eat 3 burgers." He paused for a moment, then offered it to the other boy.
He hesitated to reach forward. Concentrate, be tangible. He carefully held it with both hands. He watched as Johnny took a bite and followed suit.
"You're supposed to take the wrapper off."
"Huh?" He chewed through the third of a hamburger he had stuffed in his mouth. And without a thought, swallowed it, wrapper and all.
"Never mind, here." Johnny handed the third one over as the first disappeared into a snake like jaw while taking a normal sized bite out of his own food. The sight alone was enough to give him a stomach ache. But not enough to make him not eat.
Come to think of it. Johnny had never seen the, ghost? Eat before. Maybe that's why he's so spaced out all the time. Johnny sure wouldn't like to skip months' worth of meals. "Are you still hungry?"
"I don't understand." His voice was less of a whisper than it was, this clearer version sounded, lively. He sounded like someone. It was a voice Johnny had heard before.
Just then, the door behind them opened, and detective Dani walked in with three empty hamburger wrappers on her plate. She really eats like this!? She threw them in the trash under the sink and got three large glasses from an upper cabinet. "Compleatly forgot water." She smiled at him, filled her's with water, and went back to wence she came.
"You two freaks are cut from the same cloth." Johnny addressed the air beside him.
"Yes... we are, " a nearby whisper follows her.
The room was an office. She sat at a desk covered in Manila folders and paper. The moment he stepped through the wall, she looked up. Directly at him.
She can't see him. No one can see him! How can she see him?
She exhaled a small fog of white breath. "Are you here?" She asked, looking around the room. She can't see him. But she knows.
"I've been looking for you." She paused longingly. "That's OK. You don't have to say anything. Clockwork said you might forget some things." Her smile lacked any emotion. It was like she wanted to be happy but couldn't overcome the hollowness. "I met some of our friends. Walker's still alive... Sydney isn't. I've been working on a way back to the ghost zone, but it's proven difficult without hurting the timeline." She looked so worn out. She looked wrong. This wasn't the person he had recognized. It's someone else. "Danny, please. Just show yourself, let me know you're alright."
He stepped back out. Johnny had left, probably went back to his room. He started in the direction, pretending not to hear the quiet whimpers from the office.
~~~~~~~
"Is it true you're taking the Crane boy?" Asked Commissioner Reynolds.
"Yes, sir. Picking him up after work." Dani glanced at the clock on the wall. One more hour.
"It's a big commitment, Nightingale. Are you sure you're up for it." It was less a question and more of an accusation.
"That's the beauty of teenagers, commissioner, they don't need 24-hour surveillance, just food and guidelines. And, you know, attention obviously."
"That's not what I meant. Are you ready for this?"
The air went stale.
"I read your transfer reports. I know about Pointdexter."
"Sydney was a good boy" Dani defended.
Dani didn't answer. She couldn't.
"Doesn't mean he was good for you."
One more hour.
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ballpitwitch · 1 year ago
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The Matrix Resurrections: Featurettes
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fumiliar · 4 months ago
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self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.
your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.
"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.
kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.
"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.
"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.
"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.
"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"
"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.
"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.
"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.
"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.
"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.
"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.
"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.
restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.
"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.
"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.
"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.
"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.
"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.
"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.
"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.
"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.
"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."
kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.
"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.
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streetlamp-amber · 6 months ago
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never ending night
bruce wayne x femwife!reader
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word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!
CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.
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It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.
“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.
The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.
“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.
“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.
“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.
“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”
“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”
Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.
“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.
“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”
“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.
You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.
“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.
“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.
“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.
You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.
“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.
“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.
“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.
“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.
“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.
“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.
Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.
“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”
“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.
“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”
You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.
“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”
“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.
“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.
“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.
Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”
You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.
As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.
At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.
He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.
As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.
But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.
So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.
Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.
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pearlymel · 7 months ago
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A duty— Capitano
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Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!
Wc: 3.3k
Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.
Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!
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Tick tock.
You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.
Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.
The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.
Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.
The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.
You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.
"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.
He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.
"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.
"Member of the fatui Harbingers."
His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.
Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.
You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.
"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.
He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.
"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.
"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.
•••
Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.
And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.
Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.
You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.
As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.
Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.
"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.
The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"
You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."
Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.
"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.
"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.
The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.
"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.
You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.
You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.
"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.
"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.
"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.
"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.
•••
The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.
The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.
Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.
Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.
He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"
"i was waiting for you."
"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."
Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.
He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.
Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.
"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."
You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?
Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.
Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.
His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.
"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.
"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.
"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.
"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.
"Goodnight."
•••
"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.
"The lady should be at her chambers."
"She's not."
"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.
"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"
"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.
Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.
You couldn't have escaped, right?
Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.
You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.
"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.
Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.
"Have you ever done this before?"
"No."
"Never? It's nice."
"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.
"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.
You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.
"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."
He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"
"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.
Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.
What?
Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!
"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.
But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.
"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?
Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.
You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.
"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—
"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."
You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"
"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.
"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.
•••
Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.
But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.
You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.
He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.
The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.
His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.
He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.
Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.
After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.
But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.
Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.
Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?
But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.
He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.
"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."
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hyprfixate · 23 days ago
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for the taking :: [B.C] x [H.J] x [K.S] x reader
read on AO3
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summary: of your three boyfriends, you like to push chan's buttons the most so that he'll really get things going. you sadly underestimate how wild things can get when you rile him up.
pairing: kim seungmin x bang chan x han jisung x reader
tropes: poly!skz mmmf foursome, porn without plot
smut warnings: mentioned free use dynamics, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, brat play, overstimulation x100000, pussy eating, implied mxm dynamics, dom jisung, soft dom/sadist seungmin, hard dom/brat tamer chan, mentions of safewords (it's not used), unprotected sex but it's a long established relationship, reader initiated slight cnc, dirty talk, reader is called a slut as a degradation thing. it's really just pure filthy, not a plot point in sight.
author's note: i didn't plan to write this at all. idk where it came from. enjoy anyway!!
word count: 8.7k
You're laying on your stomach in your bedroom. The lights are dim, music is thrumming from your speaker, and there's a candle on your wax warmer.  It's a quiet, soft night, the kind that you don't see many of. There's always something going on in the duplex you share with your partners. It can be tiring, but in the quiet, you realize you sort of miss it. You fiddle with the green beaded bracelet on your wrist as you scroll aimlessly through your phone.
Then, the door across the hall slams.
Only you and Chan are home tonight, Seungmin and Jisung off God-knows-where for whatever reason. Chan was supposed to go out with them, but he had a project to finish for his job, the same project that had him losing sleep for the last few weeks. You may never understand what exactly goes into producing music, but from the way he stayed hunched over his computer 24/7, you knew it was complicated.
You're not at all surprised when you hear your door creak open slowly. You turn over, eyes catching Chan's as he stands in your doorway with his arms folded across his chest. He's wearing a haberdash of house clothes, including a baseball cap, but you can still see the dark tint on his eyes.
You feign innocence.
“Hey you,” you smile at him. “Taking a break?”
“Something like that. What're you doing?”
You shift your phone to the hand with your bracelet, holding it up and giving it a little shake. His gaze hardens even more. “Just on Instagram.”
His eyes are trained on your wrist, just like you wanted. He recognizes the bracelet. Of course he does– he and the boys bought it for you after one of your many, many conversations. You give a little smile. "It's cute, right? The green matches my t-shirt," you say sweetly. 
It does, but that's not the only reason you're wearing it.
You're wearing it because they know that green means go. Or yes. 
Or take.
"Did you need something, Chan?"
He doesn't respond, choosing instead to push up off of the doorframe and make his way over to you. You decide to roll onto your back to see him better, and by the time you're situated, he's standing over you, arms still crossed.
You gulp.
"Um, hi," you breathe out. Nervousness was not part of the plan. "I– Did you... need something?"
He drops one of his hands and grips your ankle, and where the skin connects you feel like you've been electrocuted. Your body comes alive immediately. You can only watch as he barely strains a single muscle as he pulls you down to the edge of the bed.
"Put your phone down," he instructs. He reaches the soft part of your thigh and pinches, lips curling into a smirk when you yelp.
"Channie, I—"
"I said," he repeats, a little harsher this time, "put your phone down."
You do as you're told, dropping it on the floor next to his feet. He keeps pulling until your entire lower half is hanging off the bed. With your legs spread like they are, you're certain he can feel the pulsing coming from between your legs.
He hums.
"You know why I'm here," he says lowly. It's not a question.
Despite the speed of your heart, you blink up at him dumbly, fighting against the wave of arousal that licks down your spine when he raises an eyebrow.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you manage.
Both of his eyebrows are up now, his expression seemingly surprised for a second before it fades. He nods lightly, almost as though contemplating what you've said, and then he releases you and takes a step back.
Your heart drops for a second. You think you've messed up somehow, or maybe your tone didn't come out right. You're about to backtrack, but then he's back, hooking his fingers into either side of your waistband, and with one simple tug he has your pajama pants completely off. 
If Chan is surprised that you're not wearing any underwear, he doesn't show it.
You gasp when the cool air hits your lower body, and you watch as he smirks. He returns his vice like grip on your ankle when you start to squirm under his gaze. 
"I see you still like to pretend that you have some ounce of control in this relationship," he deadpans. He tugs you back down the bed when you try to wiggle away. You're embarrassed that his strength doesn't seem to be affected by his sleep deprivation. "Come on, baby. You know better than that."
You fight back the giddy smile that threatens to take over your face at his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about," you lie. "Why're you bothering me? Don't you have work to do?"
"I can't focus," he says smoothly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was working. About how much easier work might be if I could fuck you to clear my head."
"That's too bad," you shrug, hoping he can't see how you're clenching around nothing. "I was busy."
He hums absentmindedly, letting the hand on your ankle travel higher. He runs his fingers up your calf, then your knee, until finally he hooks the inside of his wrist behind it, forcing your legs to part. You gasp and try to snap them closed, but he only has to shift a bit so that his other hand is on your opposite leg, holding you open for him.
"Why do you always act like you're not dying for me to touch you, hm?" he asks, but it's rhetorical.  He knows you don't have an answer. You never do. Even so, when you stay quiet, he huffs out a humorless laugh.
"Okay. I'm going to give you two options, because I'm feeling generous." He holds up one finger. "Option one, you admit you're just being a brat, I'll fuck it out of you, and then we can both go back to what we were doing. Or–"
You whine as he abruptly leans down with your legs still in his hands, effectively folding you in half. "Or, option two, you keep it up, and I can tell the boys to come home. Then we'll make this a lot longer than it needs to be."
Chan is dangerously close to your face now. The brim of his hat is touching your forehead. You're almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through the fabric of both of your shirts.
"So what do you want, princess?" he asks, voice dripping with honey. 
You shiver. His gaze is so intense you forget how to breathe. At your silence, he yanks you further into him, pressing himself right up against your uncovered cunt. Even through his basketball shorts you feel the unmistakable heat of his erection.
"I said, what do you want?"
Fuck.
You can't take it anymore. You feel like you're burning with need. "I'm sorry, Channie," you whine out. You can see the fire in his eyes, the way he's so worked up already, and it makes you weak. "I'll be good."
He gives you a sweet smile, leaning forward to press a kiss against your mouth. You sigh into it, letting your body go lax so he can take control. 
Despite your attempts, brattiness never lasts long with Chan. With Seungmin and Jisung, you love the challenge, love making them crack and beg a little, but Chan is entirely unrelenting. You know better than to get him too riled up, especially if you actually want anything to happen.
The kiss is a stark contrast to what you know is to come, and you know that it's on purpose. He always likes to give you the chance to back out, a way to change your mind. Bracelet or no bracelet, your comfort is still always his first priority. It's what makes you comfortable enough to tease him.
But when he pulls away from the kiss and you chase after his mouth, he only smiles.
"There's my good girl," he says. He releases your knees and presses a kiss against your cheek, and then the tip of your nose.
"Chan," you whine. Your body feels cold where his hands just were.
He only tilts his head when he looks at you. "Hm?" Then his gaze turns sinister. "Did you... need something, princess?"
Oh. 
Shit.
"Wait,” You're scrambling up from your position. “Wait, please, Chan, don't–"
He hums. "You were so mean to me," he says, trailing a single finger down your cheek. "I don't think you deserve anything from me."
You attempt to sit up, eyes widening, but he's keeping you pinned down on your bed. "But I said I'm sorry," you whine. "Channie, please, I'll be good--"
He tilts his head again, pretending to think, letting his hand fall down your face to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"No," he decides, and he straightens up, taking a step back. "I think I'm gonna go back to work."
Before you can grab him, he's slipped away, nearly halfway to your door. "Sorry, babygirl. Maybe next time, yeah?"
The smirk on his face is proof he's anything but sorry. He gives you a fake little pout before winking and stepping out of your room, clicking the door closed behind him.
You're sat up on the bed, staring at the door with your jaw slacked. This is a new level of evil, you think. You hear his bedroom door open and shut, then the muffled sound of the track he's working on vibrates the walls.
It takes longer than you'd like for your wits to come back to you, but when they do, you're both utterly gobsmacked and thoroughly impressed.
He's teasing you.
There's a part of you that's tempted to just give in, to make your way across the hall and apologize. Chan is stubborn, but not unreachable. You know if you march into his room, you could get on your knees and make him relent in seconds.
But fine. He wants to play dirty?
You can play dirty, too.
-
It's less than an hour later when you hear the front door open and shut, the sound of Jisung and Seungmin's voices carrying up the stairs. You hear takeout bags and the jingling of their keys, and then–
“We're home!”
You make no effort to move, waiting to see if Chan will leave his room first. Besides, you're still working through some of the details of your plan.
If you stay in your room, Seungmin would come upstairs to check on you first. You know he'll fuck you good, but it takes time to warm him up. By the time you start getting anywhere, Jisung will get to Chan, who might do something stupid like tell him that you were being a brat, and then he'll come in and ruin the whole thing.
No, you need eager. You need impulsive.
You need Jisung.
You pad to the bedroom door, opening it and sticking your head out. Chan's door is still closed, the track he's working on still pumping through the speakers, so you take the opportunity to get the ball rolling.
You make your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs, where you can see Jisung standing in the entryway of the kitchen. The two have already shed their jackets and shoes, and Seungmin is now busy unloading the food they brought back into the fridge. His back is turned to you.
Bingo.
"Hey," you say softly. Jisung's head whips up, eyes brightening as he spots you. He says something you can't hear to Seungmin before he's jogging up the stairs towards you. He scoops you into a squeezing hug.
"Hi my baby," he says happily, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "How was your day?"
You giggle in the hug. "It was alright. Kind of boring. How was yours?"
"We had fun," he says. He sets you down and leans against the wall next to you, reaching and catching your hand in his. You deliberately give him the hand with the bracelet, but he doesn't see it. "I missed you though."
"I missed you, too."
Jisung grins. He opens his mouth to speak again, but then he furrows his eyebrows when he looks at you, like he's just noticing something.
"Is that my shirt?"
“Is it?” You look down, feigning surprise. "Oh, yeah I guess it is."
He hums, tilting his head. His eyes trail to your hand, and he finally seems to notice the bracelet on your wrist. "That's weird. I could've sworn I saw it in my drawer this morning."
You shrug. "Maybe you're just losing your mind."
He grins, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss against your open palm. "Yeah, maybe. Or are you trying to tell me something?"
You bat your eyelashes up at him. "Am I?"
His smile turns sly. "You are, aren't you?"
Jisung doesn't wait for a response, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you down the hallway back into your room. He kicks the door shut behind him and spins to face you, a wicked grin on his face.
You squeal when he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and laughing against his mouth. His kisses are hot and eager– there's no break for breath as he moves across the room with you. You don't even pause when he lays you down on your bed, hand sliding “his” t-shirt up your body.
You shiver when he brushes against your thigh. His hands are cold from outside, and the contrast against your warm skin feels like electricity. He smiles in the kiss and squeezes the skin tight.
Your own hands find their way around his neck, pulling him even closer into you. Through the thin fabric of the shirt you're wearing, you can feel the hardness of his body all pressed against yours. He shifts against you and the friction makes your nipples harden right under him.
His hands leave your thighs. They wind their way up your torso, feeling you up all along the way until he finds the stiff peaks that called his attention. He runs his thumbs over them, drinking up every sound you make. One of your hands cards into his hair and you tug.
He groans at that, finally pulling away from the kiss with a grunt and instead trailing his kisses down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point and you buck up into him in surprise.
You feel him laugh against you.
"You're so cute," he says into your neck. He mouths over the skin before biting down, hot wet tongue immediately after. A bruise, then.
"Sungie," you gasp out. Your back arches off the mattress as his hands wander all over you. You've always loved how naturally his mouth works its way around your body– he knows just where to kiss, what spots to brush his nose over. Like he's learned the entire road map to your pleasure.
Maybe he has.
He mouths down your body, pausing and sucking on your breasts before leaving wet, soft kisses down the expanse of your tummy. When he gets to your core, he shifts his kiss-trail over to your inner thigh.
"Do you know how hot you are?" He murmurs. "Like all the time. Holy fuck. This is my shirt, princess. My shirt. Don't you know that drives me crazy?"
You do. It's precisely why you grabbed it.
His tongue meets your skin in an agonizing, slow stripe along your inner thigh. The higher he gets, the more your legs tremble around him, until finally his lips close around your clit.
The feeling is overwhelming. Your head lolls back against the bed and you let out a breathy moan. He hums against you, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he holds your legs up. Your hands are shaking, but one winds its way back into his soft hair, and you tug.
He moans at that, a sound that sends vibration up through your whole core. He takes a hand away and brings it down, letting his thumb just press lightly against your entrance. Even in the slightest sense of pressure, you arch further into him, wanting more, more, more.
He sucks on your clit even harder, his tongue joining, and when you look down and see his blissed out expression between your legs, you think your heart might jump right out of your chest.
In all the times the boys have taken you apart, they've never made you come this quickly. You're not sure if it's because of the moment with Chan earlier, or because you've been thinking about having one of them fuck you all day. All it takes is two large fingers, pushing and stretching inside of you while his mouth moves so perfectly around your throbbing clit for you to snap. You come with a sob, your thighs pressing against his head.
If there's one thing Jisung certainly loves, though, it's eating you out. He could spend hours between your legs, kissing and sucking and licking until you're boneless and spent. So there is no sign of slowing in his rhythm, even when you wriggle from overstimulation.
"Sung," you moan. He responds by pinching your thigh, sucking hard on your clit so your yelp turns into a moan.
Distantly, you register the sound of footsteps that pause right outside of your door. You hear knocking, but not on your door, and you realize Seungmin has finally come upstairs, likely to grab everybody for some quality time after a day apart.
You almost laugh at how well this is working out for you.
Jisung slides his fingers back into you, and your attention is split between straining to hear what's going on in the hallway and the blinding pleasure you're feeling. He curls his fingers up and you find yourself gushing on his hand, your own fingers tangled in his hair so tight he can barely move.
"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmurs against you. He almost sounds giddy. "Did you miss me, baby?"
You can't even form a response, only able to whine as he fucks into you with his fingers, tongue flicking over your clit just fast enough to make you tremble. Your orgasm is coming on strong, and you feel like you're floating above your body, every touch electric, every movement monumental.
And then–
"Ah, so that's where they are."
Your eyes snap to your now-open door. Your other two boyfriends are there, and you make direct eye contact with Chan just as your second orgasm reaches its peak. You arch up off the bed, gasping into the air as your body trembles, and Jisung keeps his mouth on you, sucking hard and making your vision go white.
After a minute, he finally slows his pace, pulling away and finger-fucking you slowly and deep. He would never stop completely, especially not now that everyone's in the same room. His voyeurism is likely cranked up to 10, and you know he'll be pouty and whiney for the rest of the week unless he gets to watch one of the other boys split you open on their cock.
From the way he's looking at you, you feel like it'll be Chan doing the splitting.
Seungmin, ever the sane one, pretends to roll his eyes. "So this is why neither of you were answering my texts about movie night? This couldn't wait?"
"Well, she was wearing my shirt and nothing under it," Jisung says, grinning up at him. He gives your clit one last suck before kissing it and propping himself up, fingers still buried to the hilt inside of you. Your brain feels foggy as you stare at the three of them. You can still feel yourself gushing on his fingers.
Seungmin notices, eyes glued to your cunt as he walks over. You see his faux annoyance dissolving. "Fuck, she's really wet, isn't she."
Jisung grins. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh. "Yeah, I think she missed us."
Chan scoffs. He finally makes his way into the room fully, and you can see where his cock is straining against the fabric of his shorts. "No. She missed getting fucked." 
He stands at the end of the bed, eyes fixed on Jisung's hand as he continues to move inside of you. "Did you tell Jisung what happened earlier, baby?"
Jisung huffs out a little laugh, half lidded eyes going back to your face. "Hmm. No. She didn't."
A chill runs down the length of your spine. Fuck. It sounds like Chan got to them first.
"Chan said you were being a real big brat earlier," Seungmin hums. He pulls his eyes away from your center and finally looks at you. "Is that true, angel? Were you being bad for Chan?"
You shake your head, eyes going doe-ish as he gets closer to you. You realize you need to change your plan and do it quickly. It takes less than half a second for a new idea to come: Seungmin is the softest of the three of them, at least in sexual situations. If you can get him on your side you might have a chance.
That thought flies out of the window when his hand makes its way around your throat, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. 
"Don't lie to me, sweetheart." His voice is deceptively soft. "Don't you think Chan already spoke to us?"
You fight back a gasp at the sheer betrayal, but decide to double down anyway. "Wasn't being bad," you manage. You stick out your bottom lip in a pout. "I didn't do anything!"
Seungmin squeezes again, harder, and you really do gasp this time. "Then why did we both get a text from Chan earlier saying you were being mean to him? Hmm?"
"He said he came to blow off some steam and someone," Jisung presses his fingers directly against that squishy part inside of you, "Was being all bratty. Telling him to leave her alone."
It's at this moment that you realize all your planning was futile. You've fallen right into their trap.
You try the Seungmin strategy again, panting as you look up at him. "Minnie, please," you whine. You can't think with Jisung hitting your spot like that. "I wasn't– I–"
He tilts his head. "Oh come on baby. I think you're just lying to us now."
Your chest heaves. Jisung has chosen now to dive back into your cunt, tongue swiping up your slit and circling around your clit. Your brain is too scrambled to think of any other ways out of this situation, so you resort to what you always do: 
Pleading.
"'m sorry, Minnie," you rasp. "Didn't mean to– Didn't mean to be bratty."
Seungmin softens only slightly. "Are you sure?"
"Yes!" You're gasping around your words. "I promise. I just wanted to make him mad, wasn't trying to be mean."
In all of your begging and the relentless fervor of Jisung's tongue, you barely notice Chan making his way to the other side of your bed. Seungmin's grip loosens around your throat, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw as he takes in your words.
"Hm. What do you think, Chan?"
You turn to look at him. He's shed his shirt somewhere along the way, and the hard musculature of his stomach is glistening with sweat. He climbs onto the bed and situates himself so that he's behind you with your head in his lap. You're expecting his hand to replace Seungmin's around your throat, but instead he reaches over you, gripping the hem of your shirt and sliding it up over your chest until your breasts are on full display. Seungmin immediately sinks down to his knees and takes your nipple into his mouth.
You're a gasping, whining mess, eyes rolling back until all you can see is white. You feel Jisung sling his arm around you to keep your body still.
Above you, Chan lets the shirt go and switches his focus to your hands, pulling them up and holding your wrists together in one hand to keep them above your head.
"I think," he murmurs, using his free hand to caress your face, "That if she wants to cum so bad, we should let her."
Your heart drops. To the untrained ear, it sounds like you've won, but you know better. You know Chan, and you know he has something up his sleeve. But when you look up at him, he's looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile.
"If she's sorry," he continues, "She'll behave. Right, babygirl?"
You can't speak. The dual sensations are sending you to the moon. The hand caressing your face grips your jaw tight, keeping your gaze locked on him.
"I asked you a question, princess."
As soon as you open your mouth to answer, your orgasm crashes into you without warning. It's the third one in a row, and you feel much like a washcloth that's been wrung out. Your movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and even as you continue trying to respond to Chan, your voice is not coming out.
"Jisung." He says simply.
The boy in question pulls away from your cunt with a satisfying pop. He's absolutely pussy drunk, eyes half lidded and tongue rolling over his lips to savor the flavor of you. If it were just the two of you, he'd keep going, but amongst the hierarchy of dominance, Chan has been, and will always be, at the top.
"I think she's ready now, yeah?" Chan rubs his thumb against your skin. "Fuck her good for me."
When orchestrating your own plan, you looked at Jisung’s eagerness as something to work in your favor. You hoped he would get you riled up enough for you to scream his name a couple times and really make Chan mad. But now, as he shimmies out of his sweats and boxers, taking his thick length in his hand, you feel nervousness tickle your gut.
Seungmin has pulled away from your nipple, reaching down to hold one of your thighs up. He's murmuring sweet nothings to you as he holds you open for Jisung. The latter is poised at your entrance, stroking himself and watching you with hungry eyes. 
You tip your head back to look at Chan again, and he only smiles down at you.
"Channie," you whimper out. You can barely speak, you're so overwhelmed. "Please–"
"Shh," he coos. "I know, baby. But this is what you wanted, yeah?" His hand moves from your jaw to your mouth, pressing a finger against your lips. You suck it in without thought, letting your tongue swirl around him with your cheeks hollowed out like you would on his cock. "I just want to see you take Sungie's dick. Be good, baby."
You almost choke when Jisung thrusts into you. You're already so wet and so sensitive, and his cock is stretching you so wide, pushing deep inside until you're sure you can feel him in your stomach. He gives you no time to adjust, that eagerness coming full force as he fucks right into you.
"God, she's still so tight," he breathes. One hand finds purchase in the dip of your waist, the other moves to the thigh not being held by Seungmin, folding you up and spreading you open to give him more leverage as he fucks into you hard.
Seungmin hums, trailing kisses along your leg and the side of your neck. "Feel good, angel? You like having Jisung's cock inside you?"
You can't even respond, mind blank as Jisung plows you deep. Your back is arched off of Chan's lap, head pushed back as his finger keeps your mouth propped open. You're a dumb, drooling mess around him, and despite the soft smile on his lips, you know it's wrecking him. 
To prove your point, he digs his nails in one of your palms, a stark contrast to the way Seungmin's hand is gently rubbing up and down your body, playing with your nipples and caressing your sides and stomach.
It's all too much, the sensations are overwhelming, and you're so wound up from earlier that you already feel the orgasm building. You mewl pathetically, eyes watering as you look around for someone to have pity on you.
It's Chan who catches your pleading gaze, but he only raises an eyebrow.
"You're gonna cum again? Already?" he says. It's not condescending or snarky, rather genuine disbelief and curiosity. His finger leaves your mouth and you let out a dry sob as trails of spit drip down your chin.
Jisung doesn't hear this– or can't, rather. He's fucking into you like he'll die if he stops, breathy moans leaving his mouth as he does. He's babbling nonsense, things like how tight you are and how well you take him in. You know he's close too, because his hips have gone erratic in their rhythm. Yet somehow, he gets faster.
The knot in your stomach feels heavy as lead. This orgasm might genuinely take you out. 
"Please," you rasp. "Please, please, I can't–"
Chan shakes his head, smiling. "Oh, but baby, I thought you wanted to cum?" 
"I do," you whine. "Want to so bad but 's too much. Too much, Channie, please–"
"No. Shut up and cum, princess," the grit in his voice is back. "Cum on Jisung's cock. Be good for us."
That's all it takes for you to snap. You let out a broken cry as another orgasm rocks through your body. It's even more intense than the others, pulling all of your muscles taut so you sit up before slumping back into Chan's arms. You barely register the way your hands flex uselessly above your head, writhing in Chan's grip. You can only vaguely feel Seungmin kissing your cheek, whispering little encouragements in your ear, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look when you cum.
And then Jisung is grunting, snapping his hips against yours one last time before spilling into you. Your walls spasm around him as he cums, milking him dry and causing you both to whine into the air.
In typical Jisung fashion, he's still rutting up into you after you're both well past overstimulation. The pressure in your cunt throbs throughout your body, tears springing into your eyes. You're very close to abandoning the little bit of pride you have and begging him to stop.
It turns out you don't need to, because as if on cue, Jisung finally pulls out and Seungmin lets go of your legs, standing up. You nearly sob at the loss of his gentle contact, so you don't even notice he's taking off his clothes until he's standing where Jisung was, hands gripping the soft skin of your thighs to hold you open. 
"Aw, baby," he says softly. He runs a hand up your leg. "You did so well."
You pout, a sob bubbling in your throat when you realize their plan now. They're gonna drag as many orgasms out of you as they can, overstimulation be damned. The thought makes your clit throb, and that alone makes you whine. It's all too much.
Despite knowing you're already so wet and lax and malleable, Seungmin reaches down to rub at your clit in an attempt to open you up. 
"Min," you cry, squirming at his touch. Your cunt feels tender, and even though the first set of tears are long dried up on your cheeks, fresh ones start to come. "Minnie–"
"Shhh. It's okay, angel."
His words are gentle and reassuring, but when his eyes catch yours, all you see is darkness.
Seungmin's gentle dominance has a limit. He doesn't get all stern and mean like Chan, or desperate like Jisung, but there's only so long he can last before that other, darker part of him surfaces, the one that gets off on hurting you, on seeing you in pain and feeling good from it. You can tell by the look in his eyes that this is the part of him you'll be dealing with.
When he finally sinks his cock inside you, it's slow, and the moan that he lets out vibrates through his length and right into you. Your neck seems to give up, dropping you right back down in Chan's lap less than gracefully. It gives him better access to you, and he leans immediately to attach his mouth to yours. He alternates between soft kisses and hard bites that will surely bruise in the morning.
Seungmin is only a bit longer than Jisung, but he's so damn girthy. Every tiny thrust he rocks into you sends shivers down your spine. Your skin feels like it's on fire and you're not even kissing Chan back, basically panting into his open mouth.
"Prop her up, Chan," Seungmin grits out. "Wanna watch her while she cries."
He gives you one final peck, and then the hand that's still holding your wrists lets go. It takes a second, then both hands are under you, lifting you up off the mattress until you're sat up on his lap with his chest against your back. He crosses your wrists against your chest and holds them in one hand, and then the other snakes up and finds your throat. His hand is way bigger than Seungmin's, and he's not as gentle when he squeezes and forces you to look back at him.
He doesn't look mad, or even turned on. He's smiling at you, like you're a particularly good puppy. "Good girl. Gonna give us a big one, yeah?”
You barely have a moment to understand what he's implying before you feel a hand on your clit. Both of Seungmin's hands are occupied, so you're not sure why it surprises you to see that it's Jisung's deft fingers on you. He's standing behind Seungmin, one hand on him and the other on you.
It feels like your eyes are bulging out of your head. The touch is gentle, but it still feels like you're being hit with lightning bolts. You're too spent to even buck up at the contact.
"Oh my God," you choke. "Oh, oh, I–"
“That's it,” Chan purrs when you cum again. He kisses whatever skin is closest to his mouth, his fingers gripping your jaw. Your head feels light, the only thing keeping you grounded to the bed are their hands on you. You feel like you're going to faint, and Seungmin's eyes are only egging you on.
Your body trembles so violently, Seungmin is forced to pause in his motions to hold your knees and keep your legs from buckling in. Your vision is blurry, but you can see Jisung has a steady grip on Seungmin's hair, effectively holding him in place.
"Good girl," he breathes, those big brown eyes trained on your face. "You take him so well."
His words send shivers down your spine. Jisung is always more coherent and in control after an orgasm. You know if Seungmin was today's focus, Jisung would likely be spitting all kinds of nasty, filthy words in his ear, but his gaze is fixed on you. All it takes to get you going is a good stare.
He taps at your clit with his free hand. You jump, moaning loudly at the contact, your back arching off Chan's chest and into Seungmin's body.
"She's good. Keep going," Jisung murmurs, pulling his eyes away from yours to look at Seungmin. He pulls a little at the hair on the nape of his neck, causing Seungmin's cock to jump inside you.
They work in tandem. Jisung's hand keeps circling your clit in the same soft rhythm, and you're not sure how but it's making you even wetter and more loose. You're a mess of moans, not knowing whose name to scream when they all have their hands on you. It's dizzying in the best way. 
Seungmin has started rolling his hips into you with more vigor, the soft sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. The dark shroud over his eyes is back as he stares down at you. "Feels good doesn't it," he grunts. "Look at your little cunt fluttering open for me like a good slut."
You feel another sob bubble out of you, this one accompanied by tears, but it dies in your throat when Chan's grip on you gets even tighter. All you can do is pout and whine.
"Aw, look at the little crybaby." Seungmin starts to fuck into you in earnest, his own moans getting higher in pitch. You can tell by the way Jisung's grip in his hair tightens that he's close. "C'mon angel. You're being so good, you can take it."
"Minnie," you rasp, barely able to speak. "Please–"
"I said take it." He’s looking down, watching where your cunt is sucking him in with each thrust. He thrusts into you particularly hard, and your entire body lurches forward, causing you to gasp. "And if you can't, you know what to say. You know your word."
You do. Somehow, under all the begging and pleading, you're actually insanely giddy with want. It's all part of the little game you play, so you just pout pathetically at Seungmin as his hips snap harder into yours.
"She's not gonna say it," Chan sing-songs. He uses the hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, giving him perfect access to more of you. He nips at your skin. "She likes being treated like this. Like a little toy."
It's all too much. Every inch of you is on fire, the room feels like it's a thousand degrees. Chan's mouth on your neck, Seungmin's cock deep in your cunt, and Jisung's fingers–
It's like something snaps.
A knot you didn't even realize was in your stomach explodes and your vision goes white. It's an orgasm unlike anything you've experienced before. Your brain completely melts, your hearing dulls, and you can feel the drool running down your chin. You feel like you're floating and drowning all at the same time. 
"Oh shit," you hear Seungmin groan. Your cunt is spasming around him. His thrusts become harder, sloppy. "God, fuck–"
He cums hard inside of you, hips jerking as he chases the aftershocks. You've gone completely limp, barely able to move at all as Chan continues to bite at your neck.
The hand on Seungmin's shoulder drops. "That's so hot," Jisung mutters, almost to himself. He's lost some of his in-control voice. "Wow, baby, you should be bratty more often.”
If you could see straight, you'd probably laugh at that.
Seungmin pulls out slowly, and when the head of his cock leaves you, you let out a tiny mewl. You're overstimulated to the point that you're numb. Seungmin smiles softly as he rubs the inside of your thigh.
"Oh, sweetheart, I know. It's a lot. But you're being so good for us.  I think it's Chan's turn though, hm? Wanna make him feel good?"
"Give her a minute," Jisung chides. You hear a sharp intake of breath and you know he's likely yanked on Seungmin's hair again. "She's about to pass out."
You can feel your limbs slowly returning to you, the fog clearing in your head. When Chan moves the hand from your throat, you breathe deeply, taking in gulps of air as moves his hand down to rub against your tummy. Jisung and Seungmin are bickering somewhere around you, and you let yourself relax in Chan's hold.
"Do you want to finish now, princess?" His lips are warm against your ear. "We can be done. You don't have to take me.”
It's a very tempting offer, especially with the way you can hardly remember what day it is. You could easily take it and call this all done. The four of you have almost certainly been at this for more than an hour now, and they've wrung six orgasms out of you. They're sweet enough to offer to call it a night.
But then you think about Chan, and how, despite being the reason this all started, he's barely done anything. Hasn't tasted you, hasn't shoved his cock down your throat– He's usually not one for letting go until you've milked him dry at least twice, and you can't stand the idea of him having that buzz under his skin all night. 
So you shake your head.
"No?" Chan laughs, almost like he's surprised. "Really? You still want to finish with me? Are you sure, princess?”
He's giving you the same offer he gave you earlier. An out. Making your comfort the first priority. The thought alone is what gives you the strength to nod against him.
"'m sure, Channie."
"Oh, fuck, okay." His grip around you goes a little slack as he moves, pulling you away from his lap and  laying you back into your bed. He leans over you and presses a gentle kiss against your mouth. It feels like he's thanking you, almost.
When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling. You want to look into them for hours.
He barks something at Jisung and Seungmin, and the bickering stops immediately. You hear shuffling around you before Seungmin takes Chan's empty space and Jisung appears at your side. They're pressing soft kisses to your face and praising you as Chan works his shorts and boxers down. When his cock springs free, he lets out a hiss of relief.
The sight of him alone makes anxiety rear its ugly head. You start to wonder if maybe you should've taken the opportunity to tap out, or if maybe you should use your safeword, but then Jisung is grabbing your hand and pressing kisses against it, squeezing you and keeping you tethered to the present.
"You can do it, pretty girl," he murmurs in your ear, breath fanning over your cheek. "You did so good for us, just a little longer."
Chan catches your eyes, and he smiles again, reassuring. His hand runs down your body and grabs one of your legs, lifting it and hooking your calf over his shoulder. "Gonna go easy, baby. I know it's a lot."
Your stomach is filled with butterflies, and your hands are shaking a little bit when he ruts himself up against you. You're so open from the others that when his head catches on your entrance, it nearly slips inside.  
Your back arches as you moan, and then his cock brushes against your entrance with purpose and it feels like you're going to split right open. He rocks into you again, pushing in the barest inch and pulling right back out. You whine and shift your hips in an attempt to escape.
"Come on, be a good girl now, princess." His voice has gotten lower, lust taking over. "Relax.”
His eyes flit up from where you're connected to look at you, and in one move he pushes right inside of you.
It doesn't hurt– you're way too wet and open for that. It does feel like your stomach is being forced open, however. Like his cock is pressing against all of your internal organs. You arch up off of Seungmin's lap and he pulls you back to him quickly.
Chan groans, bottoming out inside you. His eyes are closed as he lets himself bask in the sensation, hips rocking shallowly. You're thankful that he doesn't move immediately, but even the barest amount of movement feels like too much, like you'll come apart at any second.
You barely feel it when Jisung slips your hand into his. It takes you a minute to realize it's because your brain has been reduced to nothing. Your body has melted into the bed, your muscles are lax, and there's an emptiness in your brain filled with nothing but static and Chan's name. You don't think about anything at all, can't form a single coherent thought. You don't feel the kisses on your throat or the way Seungmin's hands have taken residence on your stomach. The only thing you feel is the overwhelming pressure in your cunt as Chan slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip, before pushing all the way back in.
He builds a rhythm quickly. Seungmin is holding you tight to his body, as though he's scared you might float away, and you appreciate it because it gives you another sensation to focus on. Your head is lolled against his shoulder, eyes rolled back into your head so far all you see is white.
The sound of Chan fucking into you is absolutely obscene, a mixture of your juices and the remnants of the cum still leaking from your hole. He fucks you slow, but hard, snapping his hips into yours so hard it almost feels like you might get a bruise on your thigh.
Jisung is watching with hungry eyes from your side. He's not touching you at all anymore, too engrossed in the scene unfolding to do much else other than stare with his jaw slacked. Seungmin takes over for him.
"That's it," he breathes. "That's it angel, look at you." He moves the hand on your stomach and lets his thumb rub circles on your clit. You feel like you're going to pass out. You don't get time to beg him to stop before you feel that same hand move to your mouth, and two fingers push past your lips.
"Here, sweetheart," he breathes, eyes fixed on your lips as you suck his fingers. "That's you on my fingers, baby. Isn't it good?"
You moan around his hand, head spinning both at the taste of yourself and the intrusion of Seungmin's fingers in your mouth. He's not fucking them into you with any kind of rhythm, just shoving them in there until you're dribbling around his hand. He hums happily when he pushes in more and makes you gag, kissing away the tears the spill over.
Chan grunts, head falling back. "Min, again, please, she just– fuck, she–"
Seungmin doesn't need to be told twice. He repeats the motion again, making sure his fingers go far enough so you're choking around him. This time, when you splutter and gag, you can feel it when you clench down on Chan and his cock pulses in response.
"Oh my God," he moans, thrusting into you again. "Oh my god, baby, you're so good. You're doing so fucking good–"
Between the movement of his hips and the feeling of Seungmin's fingers down your throat, you're not quite sure you're still on this plane of existence. Everything is spinning around you, your cunt is throbbing, you can hear Jisung moaning somewhere, but you don't know from what.
You can feel Seungmin's lips pressed against your forehead as his fingers fuck your mouth, your eyes rolling back into your head again. You're so lightheaded, so far gone, you can barely remember your name. 
It's when Chan starts to thrust faster that you come back to your body with a jolt, mind filling with white hot heat. The pleasure has long since lost it's edge, and you're a moaning, writhing, teary mess again. The coil in your stomach starts to build for the seventh time, and you're pretty sure your brain has gone empty. The only thing you're able to focus on is Chan. Chan, Chan, Chan.
"Almost done, angel." You register a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, and then another on your forehead. You think the voice belongs to Seungmin. Maybe, if the way he eases his hand out of your mouth is any indication.
Nothing is making sense anymore. It all feels like you're having an out-of-body experience.
Chan's hips falter, and his hand slides up to your throat again, but he doesn't squeeze. Just rests it there as his orgasm approaches, hips snapping against you at an erratic rhythm.
"Sweetheart." His eyes flutter open with strained effort, but they remain locked on yours. "Can you give us one more, princess? Hm? Can I get you to cum on me too, please?"
There's a desperation in his voice that makes your body feel hot. You want to tell him yes, that you're close, so so close, but all that comes out is a weak noise that you're not even certain you made. 
Seungmin seems to get it though, because he slips his fingers down between your legs, finding your clit again. He rolls it between his fingers with one hand while his other reaches up and settles on your jaw. You feel Jisung's tongue flick over your nipple and your world draws to a pinpoint.
Chan curses above you, fucking into you at an almost punishing pace. "Yes, baby, let go for us. That's it. We got you."
It feels like someone's stuck a vacuum in your brain with the incoherent way you're thinking. The sound of his voice saying your name in that desperate tone is all it takes, and suddenly you're floating out of your body, ears ringing as the pressure inside you bursts. Your eyes roll back and the clinging remnants of an orgasm wash through your body. It feels more like an aftershock. You're only vaguely aware of the way Chan moans, loud and throaty, when he finally spills into you.
It takes a couple minutes before the two of you come back down to earth. You can't move, and even though you know Seungmin is holding you tight, it feels like you might drift right off the mattress and float up into the clouds.
Chan pulls out slowly, and you shudder when you feel a trickle of his cum leaking from your hole. It's not long before your eyes droop shut from pure exhaustion. You think you might pass out right on the spot.
The room gets kicked into gear pretty quickly after that. From what you can tell in the hazy state you're in, someone grabs a wet cloth to wipe you down with while someone else finds you a new t-shirt (and panties this time). They dress you like you're a doll, maneuvering your limbs and telling you you're good, you're so good, they love you so much.
Then you're scooped up into a pair of arms while the distant sounds of sheets being pulled off the bed floats up to you. They take you out of the room.
"You did so good for us, baby." The owner of the arms whispers against your ear. From the cadence in their tone you're pretty sure it's Jisung. "You were such a good girl for us, sweetheart. We're so proud of you."
You think you nod against him, but you can't be sure. You hear him kick a door open, and then he sets you down on a bed and you register Seungmin and Chan coming in.
"Okay," Jisung murmurs, going through his aftercare list out loud. "Fresh bed, fresh clothes, we got her some water."
You feel the bed dip behind you. "We got it, but she's gotta drink it, though," Chan chimes. There's fondness in his voice as he scoots closer to you. "Come here, baby."
You let yourself go limp, and a content smile plasters on your face as your boys fuss over you and make sure you're comfortable. They're so gentle, despite what just transpired, and they all take turns pressing kisses against your head, your cheeks, your nose.
When you've all settled into the bed, you feel three pairs of arms around you, holding you close, and you feel insanely lucky for all of it. You snuggle deeper into someone's chest, humming absentmindedly in that dreamy, fucked-out headspace.
"Thank you," you mumble, pressing a kiss to whoever you're snuggled against. You think it's Jisung from the way they nuzzle into your cheek.
"Of course, princess," Chan replies, his voice vibrating against your back. You feel his lips press against your temple, and you smile again. "You're our good girl, even when you're a brat. We'll always take care of you.”
You don't bother replying, simply allowing yourself to sink back into that fuzzy state. You're about to slip out of consciousness when you feel Jisung's nose against your cheek.
"You really do need to be bratty more often, though."
You hear a dull thump as Seungmin smacks the back of his head, and you let their hushed bickering be the lullaby you need to lull you into sleep.
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miange1 · 17 days ago
Text
THANOS
male reader, thanos being pushy, bathroom sex, i'm a heavy believer thanos loves rough sex, aphrodisiacs, reader pretends he feels nothing for thanos, reader is a Korean speaker yet race is not mentioned, italics means switching to english, homesickness, anal fingering, being forced to stay quiet, thanos has a big dick and you cant prove me wrong, im 100% sure he's experienced in every kind of sex possible, brian moser typa freak, reader isn't a virgin he just hasn't had say gex
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"Ah! You're alive!" He smiled, coming to hug you tight in his arms. He took small note of how you looked at him, how happy he was even after many people had died, there was no reason to be happy.
Yet to him, there was. He was seeing you, and he was head over heels just for you. He would pull multiple things just to make sure you wouldn't be hurt in the slightest, whether it meant keeping you close to him, or having others die just to keep you by his side.
Scoffing, you shoved yourself off of him and squinted your eyes towards him. "Don't touch me. You're weird." His voice turned whiney as he did the exact opposite, throwing his body into your shoulders and hanging off of you. "Come on, this ain't primary school is it? I don't have any cooties." He shook you slightly noticing that you laughed, he swore he heard it but you shook your head and frowned— claiming you did nothing of that sort.
"He has no interest in you." Nam-gyu came up behind him, patting his arm. Thanos shook his head, "No, he does. He just doesn't know it yet." Nam-gyu gave him a weird look, looking back over at you and watching as your expression changed when you went to your own group of choice. "See that? He didn't smile at you." Thanos planted his palm on the brunettes face, ignoring him and shoving him off.
"Oh— dude!"
"Shut up." Thanos kept his eyes on you, but his words directed towards his friend. "I can tell when someone is playing hard to get, it's easy." Nam-gyu shrugged, "I can't tell."
"Well of course you can't." Nam-gyu made a noise of offense. What was that supposed to mean?
Night fell, and everyone just wanted to sleep. Needed a break, especially you. It was pathetic to you, your stomach hurt and you felt like crying every single second. You missed your mom, and you just wanted to go home. You wanted to eat at the dinner table with her again, you wanted to mess around again, and feel happy. But now you were here just because you thought this was a quick way to get money.
"Fucking scam.." you muttered, getting from your mattress to head off to the bathroom. It was quiet, the floors squeaky underneath the unbranded shoes you wore on your feet. This whole situation was unsettling.
You took a moment, splashing a bit of water on your face to clear your head.
Multiple thoughts that ran through your head had been interrupted by the door opening. "I'll be out in a minute.." thinking it was a guard, you wiped your face and got ready to leave.
"Leave? I just got here."
Oh, thanos could just hear your eyes roll before he even saw you. "Why the long face, hm?" His purple hair blurred passed you as he leaned on the sink, grabbing your hand to pull you closer to him. When you didn't pull away, he already knew he had you.
"It's none of your business." He looked up a bit, shrugging. "Good point. But I don't like that answer." God he was annoying.
A harsh breath pushed from your nostrils, taking a moment to think about what to say. You thought, and you thought, but then you thought too hard and your lip started to quiver slightly. Eyes getting watery, trying to get something out but it was silent and Thanos didn't expect this from you.
He himself stuttered a bit before he took into action, feeling your hand pull away slightly he tightened his grip and pulled you closer. The usual smug look was much more caring and considerate truly wanting to hear you out. "I'm sorry I just.." more broken sobs came out.
"I'm sick..sick, of this. I want to go home, Thanos I want to go home." From a few inches away, to hugging yourself into his chest he allowed himself to have his arms around you.
A slight smile tugged at the edge of his lips, it's not that he was going to fake comfort you because he really did feel sorry. It's just that this was his chance.
He stopped hugging you for a moment, opening his necklace, taking out an orange pill and offering it to you. "It's something that will make you feel better." He mumbled a small, "I promise." After seeing your suspicious face.
You grabbed it, observing it a bit. "Thanos. Is this a sex drug?" He eyes averted a bit, lips going into a thin line. Your face had pure disbelief, but you popped it anyways. Before he could even smile, your lips connected with his and you backed him into the stall of the pink doors.
The two of you were already hard, grinding on each other and practically swapping spit. His hands were kept on your hips, making sure you stuck to him like glue and didn't part from him.
"Oh fuck.." your voice, God he loved your voice and he needed to hear more of it. His lips came to your neck, open mouthed and sloppy and making sure marks were left for others to see that he finally had you.
Your fingers went to his hair, gripping them due to the pleasure he was bringing you. Damn he was good even if he was just dry humping you and sucking your neck. It made you think how many times he must have had sex before this as well, making you feel just a bit jealous.
You gripped tighter, pulling his head back so he could look you in your eyes. You shivered a bit feeling saliva drip down to your collar bone. Gross. "Fuck anyone after this, and I'll kill you myself." He giggled like an idiot, nodding his head. "Yes sir."
His tongue came to suck on his own fingers for a bit, while his other hand worked on pushing your pants and boxers down. "This gonna feel weird, just give it a minute." His joking tone dropped, giving you a bit of a feeling in your dick. He sounded like he wasn't high 24/7 though the two of you were high off of an aphrodisiac. It was just attractive.
His fingers prodded for a moment, before pushing in and you had instantly yelped. He pushed your head into his shoulder, shushing you. "It isn't that I care." He spoke softly into your ear, "But it would bother you if someone heard, hm?" His painted fingers moved inside of you, thrusting in and out and he knew exactly what he was doing and it had you crumbling right then and there, you were sure he was holding half your body weight up.
"Thanos, Thanos, fuck.." He himself had groaned, his own eyes rolling back hearing you moan out just for him. His fingers pulled out, making sure you kept still. "Don't move too much." Your eyebrow cocked a bit, what did he mean? He took out his own, tip red and sensitive as he messaged it up and down just a bit.
But you, your eyes were wide with surprise and almost regret. "No." He looked back up at you, "No?" But he needed a yes.. "No. No way is that gonna fit." Oh, that was it. He almost thought you were gonna leave him like this. "Oh, but please." He put your chin up, kissing at your neck again to keep you distracted.
"It's only gonna sting a little..tiny.." He pushed inside, too eager to wait it out and go inch by inch. You winced, hitting his shoulder as even more tears pricked at your eyes yet they were tears of pleasure.
"Shush, hey hey, stop moving." You whined and complained. What did he mean stop moving? This fucking hurt! But he only had so much time to prep you up.
"Slow, go slow—" "I am going slow." The feeling of his girth stretching you open was pain you never felt before, yet it felt so good at the same time. Groans turned into moans and whimpers, your harsh grip turning into soft squeezes on his clothes from each thrust he was giving you.
"Shit..so tight.." As much as he had wanted you to moan loud for him, you were getting a bit too loud yet you couldn't help it. He kept you preoccupied by kissing you, muffling your noises down just a little bit.
He was so damn close, could feel your pre on open skin and could feel himself pulsing inside of you, he was so close—
"Player 230, and 231."
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bitchimasnake-sss · 9 months ago
Note
Imagine telling op guys who has a crush on you, that you want to sleep with them. You just plop down next to them cuddle into them and fall asleep. It's just hem turning red and trying to calm down their thoughts
hehe, this is legit so cute. (tweaked the prompt to be a little more suggestive than just thoughts in the end.)
not a dream ft. the monster trio!
set-up: as anon asked! you happened to utter five simple words, "can i sleep with you?" to the op boys (who have a crush crush on you). now these idiots are contemplating if they'd make it out alive. warnings: includes nsfw thoughts!! no actual things happen but the guys are thinking very very perverted shit, so, if not comfortable please skip!!! m.list
luffy:
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💗 you know luffy. do you think luffy— the guy who clings to everyone, doesn't know the word "personal" and "space", who will probably hug you even if you threatened to punch him— will really mind if you told him you wanted to sleep with him? fuck no. even if you stood in front of him with a "i like you, i wanna sleep with you" in a suggestive way, he would say something along the lines of "awh, i like you too. let's sleep."
💗 but well, this was different. cause he liked you. so when you decided to show up at his door after dinner with a cranky look, he was both confused and intrigued. "what's wrong with ya?" the captain mumbled as you sat next to him on the bed. "chopper and ussop. ugghhh." you groaned, "they're doing some stupid shit next door and making so much noise. there is no possible way i can sleep there. and im sure nobody else will let me crash with them tonight in their room." luffy would have probably leapt up and gone to join the other two fools had you not sprawled out next to him. you gave him a tired smile, "so, can i sleep with you?" 💗you hadn't even waited for an answer. mindlessly, you draped a hand over his torso and snuggled into his chest. he pulled you towards himself on instinct. this was normal. yeah. hugging a crewate. yeah. totally normal. atleast for him. then why was his heart beating so fast? mouth going dry? why was sweat clinging uncomfortably to his back although he knew the night air was frigid? 💗you shifted and your chest brushed against his. luffy swallowed wantonly as you shifted again. and then one more time. trying to find the most comfortable position, he guessed. mechanically, you pushed yourself further against him. and this motherfucker went as stiff as a washboard. "luffy?" you mumbled against his skin before tracing your eyes upward. from this position, your doe-eyes bore into his, "you don't mind right? it's just really cold, sorry." how could he mind? your soft body was against his. your fingers drummed faint melodies against his back and your hair smelled like some floral scented shampoo. every time you breathed out, the warm air caressed him and goosebumps painted his hands. he felt your peaked chest brush against his again and he almost swallowed his own tongue. "luffy?" you asked again, your voice saccharine. and he vaguely wondered how would the same voice sound if he tore open that flimsy top your were wearing and held your soft skin against his palm. or if he took the courage enough to dip his fingers below the waistband of your pajamas and felt you up. would you say his name like that? 💗 well, fuck. this was the captain had thought so much in his entire life. and they were thoughts about feeling up his crewmate's tits. and, as a result of such vigorous thinking, a problem had arose in his pants. he tried to think it away. tried thinking about sea-kings or hideous devil-fruit users. of alvida. or anyone else. he even tried to think of food so that his attention could be diverted. but even the most tastiest of sanji's pudding couldn't take away the throbbing in his cock. and the delicious feeling of your soft skin next to his. as a last resort, he prayed that you wouldn't shift more and feel his dick against you. he prayed you would take his silence as rejection and simply drift off to sleep. but ofcourse, this is a godless land. because you moved again. and when you felt his hard-on against your thigh, you looked up at him. lips caught between your teeth, blinking up at him almost innocently, you asked, "got a problem, captain?" before he could answer, you pressed forward, "i think i can fix it." on the other side of the ship nami burst into chopper and ussop's room. when she yelled, it probably could be heard over the entire ship, "LET US SLEEP, YOU MORONS. WE HAVE A LONG DAY TOMORROW. GO SLEEP OR I'LL FINE YOU BOTH A MILLION BERRIES PER MINUTE THAT YOU'RE UP." you're not sure if it was chopper or ussop crying in the distance. but oh well, you have a captain to please 🤭
zoro:
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💚zoro's not even fucking sure how he ended up like this. he's sure it involved some higher-than-tolerable level of alcohol for both the parties involved. and he's sure it must have been your idea that he had drunkenly complied with. "let's sleep together" "okay" what was he thinking? because right now, you were sprawled against his chest. both of you were on his bed. his shirt was off, yours was barely on. a bit of drool peaked out from the corner of your lips. and he found himself quietly rubbing it away with the pad of his thumb, smiling softly to himself. ew?! was he still drunk?? as the realization set in, he pulled his hands back in wicked horror and looked around as if someone had seen him. it was still night, and in the middle of the night, the effects of the cheap booze must have wore off of him and he awoke to you as his bed. 💚"hey." he tried to shake you awake but you just groaned, sinking further into him. he hissed when you buried your face against his bare skin. he whisper-shouted, ignoring the goosebumps on both of your skins, "wake up. go back to your own room, woman." but you didn't shift an inch. instead, you stayed buried against him. he groaned but when his eyes fell back to your face, he couldn't help but fight off the impending blush that crawled up his face. your hair was a mess and your cheek was squished against his chest. you breathed softly and sometimes, your fingers twitched against his skin and you touched him fleetingly. and you were warm. too warm for his liking. he tried to look away but his hand carefully came up to your face. staying there not a moment too long, he dragged it downwards. over your shoulders and over your back. he stopped before he went too far and grabbed your ass, the curve so delicious in his eyes. but he stopped, pulling his hands back to lay on the linen sheets. he was a horny man, not an evil douche. 💚but you must have been hell-bent in proving flaws in his moral-code, because you shifted and your pelvis shifted over his. he bit back a grunt at the movement over the fabric. you were so cozy against him. the way you brushed up against him, the way your hair tickled him. would you like it if he pulled your hair? would you moan? god, what would you sound if you moaned out his name? he was a bad man. thinking all of those things. and he tried to focus on anything but the blood-rush to his dick, really, but the way you started moving against him, almost mechanically. god. that made all attempts to ignore his boner disappear. his hips moved upwards and he closed his eyes, giving into the friction of you against him. soft moans fell from his lips, hips still moving upwards to graze your clothed thighs. 💚"zoro?" you mumbled sleepily, rubbing your eye. you strained your neck up and he looked down at you, dazed. "you okay, zo?" when he found himself unable to talk and you found a harsh roll of hips under you, you connected the dots. a playful smile tugged on your lips, "need some help?" "no." the swordsman swallowed thickly. "fine." you shrugged, clamoring off him. your hips swayed as you made a futile attempt to find your discarded shorts somewhere in the room. you gave him a lingering look, "i should go back to my room. the crew will freak out if they find us like this." "no." he caught your wrist, tugging you towards him, "stay. i could use some help." 💚in the morning, sanji walked into the swordman's room to see if the moron could find you somewhere since you were nowhere to be found on the ship. what he found, instead, was you and the mosshead tangled in his sheets. when you and zoro had finally made it to the breakfast table, sanji may/may not have been crying. luffy, ussop and chopper were laughing in the background. nami decided it was a good enough reason to even high-five zoro. it was an awkward breakfast.
sanji:
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💙sanji was probably in heaven. yes, that's the only explanation. sure, the ship was en route to alabasta but he was on his way to heaven. because there's no way you had come seeking him out in the middle of the night. you had said, "i can't sleep." "oh?" the cook had wordlessly stepped aside and you took on the opportunity to slip in. he shut the door behind you, "can i help you then, love? want me to cook something?" "i would have really not bothered you but i don't know who else to ask. nami and vivi are sleeping together and the bed's not big for the three of us." you rambled, "and zoro probably showered five months ago. and luffy, ussop and chopper are passed out in the common room. so... can i sleep with you?" it's a miracle he didn't pass out on hearing those words. it's an even bigger miracle that that was three hours ago and he had still not passed out. now, sanji lay next to you— as stiff as a corpse— while you snored. your body shifted and your hands reached out towards sanji. your palm ran up and down his torso as to check if he was there. and once you had gotten a confirmation, you scooted in his direction and sanji held his breath as if one wayward puff of air will wake you up. 💙vinsmoke sanji was trying. he was trying o maintain his composure, to not pull you into his chest. he was trying not to think about the way your chest will feel against his, the way his fingers will glide over your thighs, the way your hand will fit around his dic— and it was as if you could hear his wretched thoughts. because your hands moved over his torso. gliding up and down. you leaned into his touch, molding your body against his. you might have been having an interesting dream cause he saw your hips gently rocking, your thighs pressed harder and you eyes clenched shut. you buried your head into his chest and the smell of your shampoo seemed to turn him on more. he ignored his weeping dick, decided to pay it no mind. but all of that resolve crumbled when he heard you moan his name into the fabric across his chest. your nails dug into his shoulders and your nose buried as deeply as it could against his skin. 💙 he gently guided his fingers to your thighs. and you shook under his soft touches. his thumb softly brushed over your clothed pussy and bucked towards his hand. he could probably just feel you up and you'd let him— "—shit." sanji quickly brought his hand back, realizing that you were sleeping and out of it. even if your lips chanted his name, he couldn't do the things his mind was convincing him to do. because if he started, he wouldn't stop. 💙so, to get himself rid of such sinful thoughts, he decided to hide in the shower and pump at his hard cock till he was tired. till you crawled out of his head. till your voice stopped ringing in his ears, making his cock impossibly harder. he slowly pushed you away, trying to climb off the bed. but as soon as you felt his warmth disappear, you cracked open an eye, "sanji?" "uh" his face went red, eyes averting, "just going to the washroom. i'd be back." you sat up, "did i go too far?" sanji's mouth hung agape as you pulled him back into bed, "i thought you wanted me to moan your name like that—" "—wh-what?" "i had a dream." you innocently traced your index nail down his torso and brushed it over his sleeping shorts, "think you can help me?" you blinked up at him, "pretty please." 💙 the next morning, the cook of the crew made the worst breakfast possible. wasn't his fault. all he could think about was you and your breathless moans and your eyes as— "this tastes like shit." the swordman argued. "thEN MAKE IT YOURSELF, FREELOADER." "might as well if you're gonna cook so bad." "—i think it tastes fine." nami sighed, "if i knew you getting some would make you a terrible cook, i would have let (yn) sleep with me and vivi." and the entire ship choked on their (terrible) breakfast.
a/n: i tweaked the prompt a bit (as i was getting stuck with the original ask), but i hope this was good enough anon!! as always, thanks for reading and send in req that you might have <3 (tagging: @bokutosbiceps cause i know you love luffy) m.list
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bananami · 1 year ago
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A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.
I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.
(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)
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"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Yeah Nanamin-"
"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.
"But Yuji calls you that!"
"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.
"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"
"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."
A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.
"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."
"That's not how that works."
"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.
"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.
"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."
Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"
"Itadori. Next question."
"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.
"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"
"She doesn't drink coffee."
"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."
"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."
"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"
"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."
"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"
"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."
Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."
"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.
"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"
"Yuji, that's too easy."
"Yellow."
"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"
"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."
Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"
"Shut up, Gojo."
"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."
"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"
"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."
He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.
Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"
Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"
Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."
Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"
"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"
"Of course you can."
"Can I stay over?"
"If you'd like to."
"Can I pick the movie we watch?"
"Don't push your luck."
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em-ontv · 4 months ago
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Soothe and pamper.
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader
Summary: it had been a long week of hunting, and Dean said he was fine… until you came in, of course.
Content: fluff, Dean being needy and overdramatic (and clingy), no use of y/n, Sam being the third wheel (kind of)
English is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes!
Word count: 653
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Dean Winchester was a master at the "I'm fine" act. After years of being on the hunt, he could brush off a rough week like it was second nature. So, when Sam asked if he was okay after their latest exhausting hunt, he just scoffed, as usual.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Dean said, waving a dismissive hand like he was brushing off a pesky fly, as if he hadn't spent the last seven days chasing after demons across two states.
"Quit worrying, Sammy."
Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't press any further. This was like Dean's default setting—deny, deflect, and pretend like everything was cool, even if he looked like he'd been chewed up and spat out.
But then, you walked into the room.
As soon as Dean caught sight of you, his entire demeanor shifted. The tough-as-nails hunter, who moments ago had been shrugging off his brother's concern, let out an over-the-top groan so loud it echoed through the bunker.
You barely had a chance to say a word before Dean threw himself into your arms like a wounded soldier returning from battle.
"This week—oh, you wouldn't believe it!" He buried his face into your shoulder with a pitiful groan, his voice muffled against your shirt. "It's been so bad, baby. So bad."
You could feel the weight of his body sag against yours, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He nestled his head into the crook of your neck.
It would've been pathetic if it wasn't so funny.
"I don't know how I made it out alive," Dean continued, pulling back just enough to look at you with wide, puppy-dog eyes, his bottom lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout. "The food was nasty, the motel beds were terrible, and don't even get me started on the demons!"
You ran your fingers through his hair as he rambled on, completely lost in the comfort of being with you.
"Do you see this?" He gestured toward his body. "I'm a broken man."
Sam, watching this unfold, rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck. "You've gotta be kidding me."
And Dean ignored him completely.
"You're the only one who understands, sweetheart." He whined, clinging onto you like his life depended on it. "Sam's no help, he doesn't get it."
"Dean," you said, struggling to keep a straight face. "You were fine like five seconds ago."
"What are you talking about?" He squeezed you tighter, feigning innocence. "I was just holding it all in. I didn't want to scare Sammy. But now... now I can finally let it all out."
"Uh-huh," you said dryly. "And how much of this is just you wanting to get pampered?"
Dean gasped in mock offense, pulling back to look at you again. "Me? Using my genuine suffering to get pampered? I would never—"
You raised an eyebrow at him.
He hesitated for a second, then smirked. "Okay, maybe a little."
Sam snorted in the background, shaking his head as he headed for the door. "You two are ridiculous," he called over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.
You sighed, shrugging your shoulders. "Well, what can I do to make it better, Dean?"
He was still leaning heavily into your embrace. "You. Me. Bed. Cuddles... for my emotional well-being, of course."
You smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "And all your troubles will disappear?"
"Exactly," Dean grumbled, sounding so serious you had to hold back a laugh. "Exactly." He sighed, content now, taking advantage of the situation for all it was worth.
"And if you throw in a back rub, I'll be a whole new man by morning." He added, his lips twitched into a smile.
"Alright, drama queen. But only because I know how hard it is to be you." you laughed softly.
"You're the only one who understands." Dean murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.
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zepskies · 6 months ago
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Headcanon: When You're Having His Child...
Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
AN: This one is requested by @cevansbaby-dove, and is kind of a continuation of this imagine: When you have morning sickness.
Tags/Warnings: Potential fluff overload.
HC: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would act while you're in labor.
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Dean Winchester
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Oh, sweet man...
Dean does the thing where he pretends he has his shit together.
He's really trying, for your sake, for his own, and to save face around Sam and Eileen and Jody and everyone else in the hospital waiting room.
They can see it, and he knows it: he's freaking the hell out.
When he's in the room with you, he's either helping you, holding your hand, waiting for you to be dilated enough to start the whole "having a baby" process, or pacing around on those bowlegs, occasionally dragging a hand over his mouth in that telltale nervous gesture.
"Babe, come 'ere," you say with strain. That last contraction really took it out of you. "You're making me even more nervous than I already am."
Dean goes to you and smooths a hand over your hair.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. How're you holding up?"
Tears well up in your eyes, but you try to breathe through it. You're overwhelmed, you're in pain, and you've been in labor for several hours already.
"We're ready for this, right?" you ask, squeezing his hand. He sits on the edge of your bed and makes sure you look him in the eyes.
"We're about to find out," he says, with a bit of teasing. But his gaze is steady when he brings your hand up to his lips. "You don't gotta worry about anything. I'm gonna be with you, come whatever, okay?"
You smile, because you don't just believe him. You know.
Because after years of fighting together, surviving together, living together, you know that this is just one more adventure you get to go on with him by your side.
Now, Dean would rather not see all the gritty details of the birth, but he stays in the delivery room, letting you squeeze the shit out of his hand. He's not going to leave your side. He's wiping sweat from your brow and encouraging you, being whatever kind of support you need.
After the baby's born and the nurses bring her back all cleaned up, Dean holds his daughter for the first time.
He has tears in his eyes. For a long moment, he doesn't even blink. He stares down at that small, perfect face. Already he sees some of your features in her.
He can't put into words how he feels. It's overwhelming in his chest. But one thing is certain...
Dean's never been more grateful to be alive than in this moment.
He blinks, and the first of his tears fall. He brings her to you, sitting down carefully on the edge of your bed again so you can hold her. You're beyond exhaustion, sweaty, and weeping, but one thing is certain...
You've never been more grateful for Dean than in this moment.
You turn to him, giving him a small smile. He returns it, and he leans in to give you a gentle kiss.
"Do you have a name picked out yet?" one of the nurses asks.
You and Dean share a look: his imploring, yours knowing.
"We're not naming her Baby," you warn him.
"Aw, come on."
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Beau Arlen
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Round 2! 🫡
Beau runs the gambit from excited, to anxious, to freaking the hell out, and back to excited.
This is "Round 2" for him. His second child. But he's had reservations about being an "older" father to a new baby. (He's pushing 50 at this point. No matter how much he keeps in shape, he still feels his age in his bowlegged knees.)
You've assured him that plenty of men have children at his age.
Regardless of his insecurities though, you know he's still over the moon. Beau has always wanted more kids, deep down, and now thanks to you, he's getting his wish.
He's the man who's "prepared for anything."
When your water broke, he already had your to-go bag ready with everything you might need.
But he continues to ask you questions from the moment he's got you out the door to the drive over to the hospital, and even in the lobby.
"You thirsty? You comfortable like that? How's the pain? Just breathe, baby. I gotcha. Watch your step now. You hungry? We've got protein bars in the bag, unless you're cravin' something else. First things first, let's check in. Oh, I hope we can getcha in a private room. Let's see--oh damn, they sure are packed today, huh? Okay, how're you holdin' up? How's the pain, level of 1 to 10? Yep, got it, hold my hand. Just breathe through it. I gotcha."
Bless him. The man means well, but he's driving you freakin' crazy.
"Beau, I know. If you don't take a breath, I'm gonna pop you in the damn nose."
He tries not to smile at your grumpiness. "...Okay, I hear ya. Let's just get you into your room."
He rarely leaves your side during the entire labor, just to get you anything you might actually need. The radio at his belt occasionally goes off for work, but he apologizes, having forgotten to turn it off. He put Jenny in charge while he's gone.
"Let's just hope the precinct's still standing when I get back," he jokes. He finally turns off the radio and takes it off his belt, to your relief. And he returns his undivided attention to you.
Beau witnessed the birth of his daughter Emily, so he's no stranger to being in the delivery room. He even ventures past the curtain when your son is born, breathing air into his little lungs and letting out a powerful cry.
Beau laughs with tears in his eyes. "That's my boy."
When the nurses place him into your arms first, Beau supports your hold and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. "Good job, honey. Good job."
"I know," you tease weakly.
Beau chuckles. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and looks down at the small bundle in your arms and his.
"We have a son," Beau says. His eyes are red and shining. "I have a son."
"You have a son," you nod. You look over at him and lean in for a kiss. He obliges you, and rests his forehead against yours afterwards.
Life is meant for moments like this, he thinks.
He's damn grateful it's with you.
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Soldier Boy (Ben)
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Readers of Strong as Blood in the BMD-verse will recognize some of this HC...
This day has been a long time coming, for both of you.
He smells like cigar smoke when he comes back into your recovery room. For which you have no doubt, Ben had been puffing away with Butcher and M.M. outside the hospital. 
Ben was with you for most of the lead up to the birth, but you actually agreed that having him in the delivery room wasn't a good idea. He never did well with you in pain, and with his temper, he might just scare the shit out of the doctor and nurses.
He strides toward you though, when he enters the room. He lays a hand on your head and another on the baby's tuft of brown, downy hair.
"We have a daughter," you tell him, with a watery smile.
Part of him still twinges with disappointment. He didn't react well when he found out you weren't carrying a boy, his future son.
(You'd given him enough hell that he never brought up the subject again.)
But that all fades away when he looks down at his daughter's face.
He carefully sits on the edge of your bed, but he's suspended in time. His chest tightens in a way he's never experienced before.
It's almost like pain, but not. Not at all.
He brushes a thumb along the baby's soft cheek. He's almost hesitant to touch her, knowing how fragile she is.
"Beautiful, like her mother," he says at last. And he means it.
He earns your smile.
"Flatterer," you accuse. You know you look as wrecked as you feel. Somehow, none of that matter's whenever you look at your child's face.
You look over at Ben with a shining smile. His lips twitch. He leans in and meets your lips with a kiss, slow and deep and intimate in this quiet little room.
“You okay?” he asks you, after he pulls away. “Got everything you need?”
He’s become even more protective, of course, but also more attentive to you. Especially in the last few months of your pregnancy, seeing how uncomfortable you've become.
It warms you every time, when you consider how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he can be.
It seems that fatherhood is beginning to soften him, even before he begins. You quirk a smile at the thought, and at his question.
“Imagine pushing a super melon out of your dick. That’s how I’m doing,” you say cheekily.
He snorts a bit loudly at that, and you shush him, as if it wasn’t your fault he was laughing. He expects nothing less from you.
“But I’m okay,” you answer his second question. “All I need right now is you.”
Ben considers you, a slightly gentler smile curving his lips, and he nods.
“All right,” he says. In this moment, he realizes that his entire world is in this room.
He’d never admit it, but it's a terrifying thought, for a man who once had everything and nothing.
You unknowingly stop the path of his thoughts when you ask him, "Want to hold her for a while?"
Ben perks up at attention. He's a bit uncertain on how exactly to hold the baby, but he can't lose face and tell you that. So he just accepts the bundle when you place her in his arms.
As he looks down at a small face that already has some of his features, he inhales a faltering breath.
It's the first time you ever see true tears in his eyes, despite how much he resists. One manages to draw a path down his cheek. 
“You know, you’re blessed to have my genes, sweetheart,” he says. It elicits a knowing scoff out of you. “But you’re also lucky as hell to have your mom.”
Ben looks up and finds the predictable well of tears forming in your eyes. His smirk softens around the edges.
“She’s the best damn woman you’re ever gonna meet,” he says.
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AN: All right, I'll stop. 😭 I hope you enjoy this one, fluff overload and all! Who was your favorite this time: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 💜
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nsharks · 5 days ago
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part thirty —other parts
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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.8k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. SA and implication of child SA (very subtle). summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter is all from Blue's perspective. if anything regarding the abuse or suffering of children triggers you do not read. though it is really not graphic at all (imo) and the SA is EXTREMELY implied and subtle (just a woman looking/potentially touching Blue's private area to check for virginity). I wanted to tell you so there are no surprises.
B
Blue hasn’t been without her father for more than an hour in over five years. There were moments when she'd imagined him disappearing, especially when he said no to her, when he could annoy her, push her too hard, or withhold the words she craved. And yet—now, with her head resting in Twix's lap, she can only long for him. The thought of his absence fills her with cold dread. The kind that erupts goosebumps on her arms despite the stuffy air in the room. Twix’s fingers gently stroke the back of her scalp, but it does little to ground her as her mind drifts to Ghost. He’s alive, that woman said. But it's been over a day, and he still hasn’t come for her.
"Do you think he will come soon?" she asks quietly.
Twix's fingers pause at the top of her hairline. "I think... I think he is doing everything he can to find you."
Blue is old enough to know that is a non-answer.
She knows, deep down, that Twix doesn't think he'll be coming, either.
"I will figure something out, okay?" she promises.
"Okay," Blue whispers noncommittally.
"Hey." A faint smile. "I've done pretty good at getting us out of shit in the past, right?"
Blue mumbles, "I guess so."
But this time felt different from those times. No matter how many times she catches Twix squinting around the room, murmuring things to Nereida, even Blue knows that a bright idea won’t magically appear. Not in here, where there is nothing except the three beds, the bolted cell, and the out-of-reach door that Ghost has yet to barge through.
When Blue's fingers instinctively search for her wrist, Twix’s face softens, and she gently encloses her palm over Blue's knuckles. "Alright. I want you to close your eyes and imagine that beach you showed me once. The one with white sand, and super blue water." Blue plays along with a deep sigh, closing her eyes as she feels a callused thumb brush her cheek. "Almost as blue as your eyes. See it?"
"I guess."
"Good. Now, I want you to imagine that you are lying on the sand, eating all the Twix bars and Nutella you want. Oh, and Grim is there. He was trying to make a sandcastle but got his head stuck in the sand."
Blue's lips twitch despite herself. "This is dumb."
"Dumb? Well, I don't think Grim finds it dumb. He can hardly breathe right now so you better stop eating chocolate and haul his ass up."
Blue snorts quietly, eyes screwing tighter as she imagines it; pulling the bunny out of the sand, giggling, the waves crashing. She falls back onto the sand with him in tow, but he darts away from her hands, toward the water. When she looks over, sun glaring, someone else is there. It's her father, and for a moment she is ready to jump on his back and beg him to play in the waves with her. That's when she notices he is keeled over, ripped apart, bloodied and battered.
Blue jolts, inhaling sharply. When she reopens her eyes, the image is still there. 
"What's wrong?" 
"I just saw—" she rubs her eyes profusely, but he's right in front of her. Blood begins to spurt from a sever in his throat. His head snaps forward, hanging by a thin thread of tissue. "I see him! H-his head is..." 
She jerks upright from Twix's lap, her eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to shake off the vision. When that doesn't help, she buries her face in the pillow, but the image remains too real to ignore. The thread snaps, and her father’s head rolls away silently.
Twix’s voice cuts through, her hands gently shaking Blue’s shoulders, but it feels distant, like a shadow compared to the sickening thud of her father’s headless body hitting the ground. Thick blood pools at her feet, and she tries to move, but her muscles won’t obey. The blood rises and rises, suffocating her, until she can’t breathe.
"Blue, it's just... you're imagining it."
"I can't... I can't..."
Someone flips her over on the bed and hugs her shoulders.
Twix's chapped lips press into her cheek.
"Please, Blue. I'm here."
The touch is enough to drain the blood and free her lungs. Her father's dead body floats away. She gulps for air, cold sweat clinging to her neck, and curls into the body beside her. Lingering panic races through her heartbeat, but then, after a minute, it begins to slow considerably. A new feeling washes over with the force of a tidal wave; fatigue.
Blue suddenly feels so tired that she can't keep her eyes open. It’s as though the terrible images have drained her entirely, leaving only murky water in their place. Her mind begins to float, and the edges of the world blur. Twix's face is in front of her yet feels so far away. Her lips try to part for words to come out, but it takes three tries just to manage: "I feel strange."
Across the cell, Nereida whispers, "I do, too."
Weight shifts on the mattress as Twix tries to sit up, leaning against the wall. Her head dips slightly, then snaps back up. A shaky inhale. "That... that fucking bitch. The oatmeal!"
The oatmeal? Blue’s thoughts latch onto the warm meal they’d been forced to eat, but the memory slips away before she can hold onto it. The slow descent snowballs. Twix’s voice distorts, blending with the chirping of birds outside the window. Her body slides down the wall, crumpling back beside Blue. She tries to hug Twix again, but her arms won’t cooperate.
Minutes later, or maybe hours, Blue hears the metal screech of the cell door swinging open. Veiled ghosts drift in. She can do nothing to run from them. Murmured voices, speaking words she doesn't understand, bleed through the heavy blanket of fog lying over her.
"Vous avez dit que celui-ci était intact?"
"Oui, Maman."
"Nous offrirons son corps pur au Seigneur. Les deux autres seront aptes à avoir des enfants."
"Mais elle est une... Je veux dire, oui, Maman."
She feels something cold and sinuous lifting her—snakes. No, not snakes. Hands. Cold, unfamiliar hands. Twix shouts something slurred. Then Blue is dragged by her feet, her spine no longer supported by the bed. She tries to squirm free, but her limbs feel heavy, useless. More hands clamp down on her arms.
No, no.
She wants to call for Twix, but her voice is muffled beneath a palm, the sound dying in her throat.
A weathered voice coos in her ear. "Sweet child. There is nothing to fear."
She can't scream.
All she knows is Twix is no longer the one beside her.
Cold fear surges through her veins, and she claws at someone’s arm. The retaliation is swift—a prick to her neck.
The strike of pain intensifies her dizziness, the last fight in her body fading away. They're dragging her again. The hard floor beneath her feet melts into soft grass, and the stark white ceiling shifts into a blue, cloudless sky before everything fades to black.
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A gentle melody repeats in her subconscious until she rouses.
The same three-note tune, over and over.
Peeling her eyes open against the buttery sunlight, the first thing she notices is an open window above her head, its thin white curtain dancing in the light breeze. Upon the windowsill sits a small, cooing bird with pearly grey feathers and a black ring around its neck. Its head tilts almost mechanically, two little black eyes regarding her. She stares for a long moment before her eyes fall closed once more, lulled by the familiar call. Only when the bird quiets does she truly come to her senses. The sudden silence jolts her upright.
This isn't the same room she was in before. There hadn’t been a window in the cell, and certainly not one left open. The air there had been thick with the scent of old wood and lingering dust. But here... here, the air is different. It smells of fresh flowers, of the tall grass she used to wade through with Ghost while hunting. 
The bird calls once more before flittering away, leaving her reeling.
"A collared dove."
Her gaze snaps to the right where an old woman sits in a mahogany chair, knitting needles in hand. Without looking up from the red yarn she weaves, she explains idly, "They are very common. Lovely, but common."
The accent of her old voice is nothing like Blue's Mancunian one. But she understands each word.
Her voice pulls through her teeth with great effort. "I don't... Where am I?"
The old woman's brow furrows as if she is deep in thought, but it smoothes over after she undoes a stitch and loops it again, hands moving with an unnatural slowness. "You had them in England, yes? They are very common there, too."
Blue's fingers spread into the fine linen, her pulse ticking as she blinks a few times to sharpen her vision. The woman before her is older than anyone she has seen in a long time, though there is a faint resemblance to a woman deep in her memory who she believes was her grandmother. Unlike the woman who visited their cell with food, this one does not wear a veil over her face. Long wisps of gray hair fall over her shoulders. Wrinkles etch around her eyes and lips. She is still cloaked in white, but around her neck hangs a red cord beaded with a cross dangling at the end.
Her fingers clench. "I don't care about the-the stupid bird. Why am I here? Where are my friends? You..." she swallows the feel of sandpaper in her mouth, "You put something in the food. You made me lose control of myself again!"
Finally, grey-blue eyes flicker up beneath a questioning brow. "Oh, sweet child. You are so full of fire." With an unsettling calmness, the woman sets down the knitting needles on a carved side table. Pressing a palm to the surface of it, she rises slowly, then laces her hands in front of her. "Come, and perhaps your questions will be answered. Though, I wouldn't try to run." She moves toward the door, her gait shuffled but steady. A glance over her shoulder beckons. "Your friends are under my care."
The mere mention stiffens Blue's spine. She forces herself to her unsteady feet, swaying slightly, bare toes digging into the wood planks. Each small step feels lighter than the first time she woke up from being drugged, though her body still protests. Ahead, the woman is already walking away. It wouldn’t take much to catch up, but Blue lingers, her eyes sweeping the room with deliberate caution—always stay aware of your surroundings.
For a moment, she considers grabbing the knitting needle and stabbing the woman. But then what? Everyone, her father included, is under her care, and any misstep could mean their deaths. Ghost always told her to never act without some type of plan—to wait for the right moment. Blue doesn’t even know where the others are.
As she hesitantly steps out of the small house, the realization hits her. There are more people here than she’s seen in a long time. Almost like a town, but not really. Smaller than that, but more than her group. The building they just left is a small, home made of light grey stone. To her right are more homes, smoke billowing from the chimneys. She counts at least four of them. Straight ahead of her is gravel road. This is where the woman heads, with Blue trailing behind her. To the left is a stretch of green lawn, bright and lush. She has the itch to sprint over it, but a voice ends that idea.
"Catch up, girl." 
Gravel bites her toes as she walks to the woman's side. She is still only dressed in the simple, white slip. She hasn't worn a dress before.
"Where are you taking me?"
"There are some things I wish you to see." 
"Why... why can't the friends I was with be here to see them, too?"
From the corner of her eyes, Blue catches the woman smile lightly. "What do you think of France?"
Blue digs her nails into her palms, swallowing down her frustration at the non-answer. "It's... nice, I guess." It isn't a lie. The beautiful beach they left from, the fields of wheat and flowers, were things she'd only imagined before. 
"Good. My husband was from India but owned this land. I never wanted to leave it. France is the most beautiful place. I knew I wanted my son to grow here." She exhales in a quiet appreciation. "My husband said this land would thrive, even after the plague. He was right. The Lord spared it. He did not spare Ashwin, though."
Blue doesn't know what to say to that. If she should feel sorry for this person or not. She didn't state her husband's death in a sorrowful way, merely factual. As they walk, they pass a few men hunched over tree stumps, chopping wood. The smell of fresh earth and spilt sap wafts up her nose. The men glance up, their gazes lingering on Blue a moment too long, making her shift uncomfortably. Then, they lower their heads respectfully toward the woman. She speaks to them in French, and their chuckles follow her words.
Under a warm afternoon, they approach what looks like a large barn, bordered by wooden fence posts strung with taut wires. Inside the fenced area, Blue notices a white horse, smaller than Cherry, along with four cows. More men are working nearby, some tending to the animals while others, farther off, wield sickles to harvest stalks of wheat.
When they stop in front of the fence, Blue can't stop herself from asking, "Where are all the girls at? Like the one who fed us? I've only seen guys so far."
The woman doesn't look at her. "Our community is built around the roles God intended for us. Men have bodies made for working under the sun. Women, like those beautiful young ladies you traveled with, are vessels to be cherished, protected. Especially in these times when they have become rather scarce."
A few of the words fail to make sense to Blue, never having learned them from any of the books Ghost read her. "Um, is that why you separated the girls in my group from the men?"
She hums, a slow sound. "Women are kept in their own quarters with the infants."
"Okay," Blue rocks on her feet and grips the hem of the dress before the light air can catch it. So is her dad one of those men working, then? She squints, confused, and shakes her head. No; if he was anywhere out here, he would've come to her. He must be locked up, too. A wave of anger buzzes in her chest, louder than the cicadas. "That still doesn't explain why you are holding Twix and Nereida prisoner. If women are so special, why are they locked up and I am out here? And where are all the men from my group?" Her mind briefly flashes to the others; Kyle, Price, and... Ari. 
"None of them are prisoners, child. They are merely being readied for the role their bodies were created for, by God."
Blue grits her teeth. "You're not really answering my questions. What about me? Why did you bring me to," she glances back at the working men, who haven't stopped to look at her like the others had, too engrossed in the strenuous labor. "A fucking farm. What could you possibly want to show me here?"
"There is someone I need here before our next stop." She leans closer to the barbed fence and calls out, "Pierre! J'ai besoin de toi et de trois hommes pour nous accompagner jusqu'à la cale. Apporte les chaînes."
A man—Pierre, she guesses—strikes one of the cattle's hindquarters, wipes sweat from the back of his neck, then shouts in French to three others following behind him. They unlatch a gate in the fence and slip inside a small shed for a brief moment, emerging with rusted chains in hand. They approach, causing Blue to falter and step back. An old, strange woman is one thing, but three strong men are another. A fissure of terror cracks through her, and she inhales shakily.
"You need not be afraid."
She blinks up at the woman, who for a moment, conjures something similar to a comforting expression. Blue nods, and then they are walking again, with the four men trailing behind them. The sound of the chains dangling in their grasp makes her feel uneasy. What are they for, and why are they coming with them? She is ready to build the bravery to ask when the woman ghosts a hand on her shoulder.
"What is your name, child?"
"It's... um, Blue."
A soft chuckle. "The English and their strangeness. This is not your real name, is it?"
For some reason, Blue finds the truth stuttering out of her. "No, it's—the name I was born with is Amelia."
"Amelia. Much better. Tell me, Amelia, did your mother have blue eyes?"
Blue nearly chokes, her footsteps halting in the grass as she flinches away from her hand, curling her fingers into fists. "What the fu—why are you asking me that?"
The woman stops beside her and clasps her hands together, the long sleeves of her gown falling over them. She is a small woman, hardly taller than Blue, and can't be any stronger than she is, but something about her emits control. Blue can't look away from her eyes, even as her jaw tightens, stomach swirling.
"There are many answers to questions that can be discovered on their own if one simply looks for them. I know which one of them is your father—"
"How could you know?" Blue demands. "I haven't even said any of them was my dad."
Thin lips twitch at the side. "A daughter gets the shape of her face from her father." A bony finger reaches to trail the edge of Blue's cheek, and she trembles from the cold feel of it. "But the features are all from her mother." She looks away and continues walking, speaking over her shoulder, "A little dove might have also told me he was asking for you."
When the men step forward, Blue is forced to continue walking. It feels hard to breathe, even though the canopy of trees offer fresh, rich air. "Then why are you asking about my mother?"
"Your eyes are blue, but your father's are not. I was simply curious."
"My mother is dead," Blue finds herself gritting out. 
"I figured. Neither of those women were her, and many mothers have been lost. A very terrible thing. A child needs its mother. You will call me Maman, Amelia. This is what French children call their mothers."
"I am not going to fucking call you that. Tell me where we are going," Blue presses, swallowing as she looks back at the farm behind them. Through the gaps between the men's shoulders, she sees that it is rather distant now, along with the small homes. She looks back ahead; nothing but overgrown vegetation. Even the flowers have grown sparse over here. It is quiet and still. She can hear the thrum of her own heart.
"Your fire is admirable, but you need to learn respect." For the first time, Maman's voice carries an edge, one that sends a shiver down Blue's spine. A foreign bird call echoes through the leaves, and the woman holds up a hand, signaling for everyone to stop and listen. "Ah. That’s the Bluethroat, if I’m not mistaken. Much rarer than the dove. You won't often find those in England."
The bird calls again—a trilled chirp—as they crest over a small hill, and the air suddenly grows heavier, more pungent. A smell Blue knows well makes her freeze, but a strong grip on her arm keeps her moving toward the source of the stench: an old, smaller building made of much darker stone. The sharp rustle of wings through the trees fades into the distance, but the tension in her body doesn’t ease.
"You, too, are rare, Amelia," Maman continues, voice steady and unhurried. "A pure, young female like you—so virtuous—carries more favor from God than any other. Your friends have their purpose, and you have yours. Each of us plays a part in shaping the new vision of God's children."
The men move in front of them now, except for one who continues gripping Blue. The tremble in her body intensifies, and a cold pit grows unbearable in her chest, thundering. She is forced to stand about four meters in front of the large door, where one man grips the handle while two others, including Pierre, stand beside it, their hands ready with chains and their stances wide. It’s now, through the stinging film that grows over her eyes, that Blue notices large metal muzzles attached to the chains.
Blue is too stunned—too confused, yet frightfully aware—to move a muscle when Maman procures a knife from inside her robe. Pierre shouts something in French, but Blue can barely hear him. Her senses are fixed on the bead of sunlight glinting off the knife, and on the scratching and snarling she hears from the other side of the door.
"Please—" she gasps, unable to finish the thought.
Maman ignores her in favor of snatching hold of her wrist. Cold fingers force her arm to extend, and a burning pain cries out when the knife slashes a laceration from her elbow to the rim of her palm. 
"Une seule coupure pour les attirer."
The blood weeps, and the door shakes from the ignited frenzy behind it.
Tears finally escape Blue’s eyes just before the door opens. She feels it—the sensation of her body being torn apart beneath rotten teeth. She squeezes her eyes shut, thinking of Ghost, when she hears more shouting and the harsh sound of chains being whipped through the air. When she opens her eyes again, the men are wrestling two Greys into the muzzles.
"Deux c'est bien!" Maman orders, and the door is slammed shut over the others that threaten to spill out toward the fresh wound. 
Blue is alive.
Her arm numb and bleeding. 
Maman yanks something else from her robe—a strip of cloth. She wraps it roughly around Blue's forearm, then issues another command. Without warning, Blue is hoisted from the ground and callously tossed over the shoulder of the man who had held her in place. They start heading back the way they came, the leashed Greys trailing behind them, and finally, a scream rips from Blue’s throat.
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"You said this one was intact?" "Yes, Maman." "We will offer her pure body to the Lord. The other two will be fit to have children." "But she is a… I mean, yes, Maman." "Pierre! I need you and three men to accompany us to the hold. Bring the chains." "One cut to attract them.” “Two is good!”
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l1tw1ck · 23 days ago
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Thunder
Bottom!FTM Cloud Strife x Top!Male Reader
⛈️ Word Count: 1,799 ⛈️
While out on a mission, you and Cloud get caught in a sudden thunderstorm, forcing you to find shelter for the night until it stops. But after a couple days, there aren't any signs of it letting up
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AFAB Language Used | I had writer's block and got bored so i decided to finally continue playing final fantasy. I stopped like 30 minutes in to write this fic at 12AM. i put down the game (temporarily! i love it) after the section 8 stuff so i'm sorry for any inaccuracies, just needed to take advantage of this burst of motivation
CW: Rape/Non-Con, Somnophilia, Power Imbalance, Frottage, Teasing, Creampie
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You peek outside the window, or what was left of it, of the broken down building you're in then turn to Cloud. “Looks like we’ll have to stay the night.” Lightning strikes to reinforce your words. “Think you can handle it, pretty boy?”
“Stop treating me like a rookie.” Cloud sighs. “And stop calling me pretty boy.”
“It's hard when you look like an adorable little kitten.” You smile.
He rolls his eyes and looks around for burnable items.
“It's like watching a lion cub hunt and gather.”
“I can't wait for this night to be over.” He groans. “How about you do something useful, captain?”
“Like what, kitty?”
Cloud grips the damp piece of wood in his hand in annoyance. “Like maybe finding things to keep the water out of here.” He tosses the wood aside.
“Sure.” You stretch.
The two of you worked together to make the old building livable for the night and went to sleep thinking it’d be over by morning.
Cloud wakes up to the loud sound of thunder and sighs. He sees you leaning against the wall. “It's still raining.”
“It sure is.” You chuckle. “We might be here for a while, kitty. Unless you want to run out and somehow dodge all that lightning?”
The two of you are way too far from the base to even consider doing that. The job pays well but not enough for Cloud to not be annoyed with this sudden detour. “I better get a bonus for this.”
“Of course. You could get paid even more if you did me a little favor.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“About 60,000 gil plus your bonus pay.”
“What is it?” He asks, attentive.
You smirk. “Since we're gonna be stuck here for who knows how long, I think it’d be nice to do something as a…pastime of sorts.”
“Stop beating around the bush.”
You motion for him to come over. He rolls his eyes and gets up. “I know you're talented in so many ways,” You grab his wrist and pull him close to you. “And I wanna see if you're talented in this way too.”
He pushes you and steps back, his cheeks red. “Don't even think about it.”
“It was worth a shot.” You laugh.
He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.
The sun set and the sky continued to pour. Then days passed. You rationed food and managed to find other edible things to keep yourselves alive but the situation isn't all that great for you. You're still functioning, but just by a small margin.
The two of you were able to collect rainwater to drink and help yourselves clean up. Cloud insisted on doing it upstairs so you wouldn't watch him. You promised you wouldn't but you were lying.
As time went on, it was getting harder and harder to keep it in your pants. Your mental state started to get a little wonky thanks to your body not getting all the nutrients it needs. You couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted him, especially since it was better than thinking about food. It got to a point where you couldn't even fall asleep.
You look at Cloud’s sleeping face, studying the slight movements in his facial muscles as he dreams. The soft glow of your lamp allows you to properly see him despite the darkness. His chest slowly rises and falls. You know if you made an attempt, he’d wake up, any good soldier would. But it's getting hard to control yourself. Being in such close proximity with him is driving you mad. You hesitantly, and very softly, touch his shoulder. He doesn't react. You poke his cheek. Nothing. You pause.
You trace your finger down his chest and to his pants. You carefully unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn't seem to notice you pulling them down. You take in a small breath. You're so nervous it feels like there's a hole in your chest. You remove his boxers at an agonizingly slow pace. You gulp as you start to see his pussy. Light blond tufts of hair beautifully surround his soft, pudgy cunt and his t-dick. You look at him. He's sleeping peacefully. He must be more tired than usual tonight.
You gently pull his underwear down his ankles and place it on the end of the blanket he’s laying on. You carefully spread his legs and slot yourself in between them. As you begin to free your aching hard dick, you start to feel a little bad. You tell yourself to give him a huge bonus after this. You gently rub your cock along his pussy, knowing you can definitely get off just by doing this. You don't want it to hurt, at least not too much, so you decide not to penetrate him since your luck would probably run out if you tried to prep him properly.
You bite down on your lip. The view is making you feel dizzy. Your ears drown out the sounds of the thunder storm and focus entirely on Cloud. On his soft, gentle breaths and the squelching sound of his wet pussy, aroused by your cock pressing itself against it. Your heart starts to pound louder, ruining your focus on Cloud.
You let out a breathy gasp as you begin to feel your climax approaching. Your eyes flicker over to his face, watching to make sure he's still asleep. You don't know how you’ve gotten this far but you're no longer so sure that you’ll be able to stop here. Your movements stutter as your cum splatters on his body.
“Cloud..” You whisper. His lack of reaction emboldens you to keep going. You move back and slide your middle finger inside his cunt. Squelch. It sucks it in with ease, and same with your ring finger. You slowly open him up while using your free hand to jerk yourself off. He twitches. You pause and look at him before continuing.
You eventually decide to stop and finally get to the good part. You gently lift Cloud’s legs and position the tip of your cock in front of his entrance. You take your time easing into him while constantly checking if he's awake.
Once you're finally fully inside, you take a couple minutes to take everything in. You're in serious disbelief but way too horny to be concerned about it. You know that, at this point, if he wakes up, you’ll be able to overpower him.
You slowly thrust into him, happily indulging in the wonders of Cloud Strife’s pussy. You gently caress his t-dick, smiling when you start to hear him whimper. “You feel so good, Cloud– ‘s like you were made for me, to tempt me..” You murmur, gradually picking up the pace. “I didn't think it’d be so easy…”
“Maybe you're not even asleep. No properly trained soldier would sleep through something like this…I wonder if you're enjoying this. Getting off on me assaulting you in your sleep like a slut.” You notice his cheeks starting to turn red. A chill runs down your spine as you start to get a feeling your assumption is correct. “You like this, Cloud? Letting yourself get taken advantage of? Does it feel good getting treated like a cocksleeve?”
He whimpers, his cunt squeezing you.
“I know you're awake. Answer me.”
His eyes flutter open, his face flushed and deliciously seductive. “It– it feels good-!” He moans.
“Good boy.” You grin. You never would've thought Cloud would be into something like this. You roughly pound into him. He cries out in pleasure, feeling his orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside and you're gonna take it like the good kitty you are.”
“Ye- yes–!” He shuts his eyes, squirting on your dick. His mouth hangs open as the aftershocks hit him. He smiles dreamily as he feels your cum flow inside of him.
You stop and catch your breath. “Did you reject me hoping this would happen?”
Cloud nods softly. “I didn't think it would…but I wanted it to.”
…..........
He pushes you and steps back. “Don't even think about it.”
“It was worth a shot.”
He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.
Cloud climbed the semi-intact stairs and explored the second floor of the building. There wasn't anything noteworthy inside but it did give him much needed privacy. No room to lay down but he didn't need to anyway.
He walked behind a wall to hide himself in case you decided to follow him, and unbuckled his pants. He stuck his hand down them and gently caressed his t-dick. He always knew you were attracted to him, it wasn't like you were hiding it, and he pretended that he hated it. He loves your pet names and the lustful way you look at his body. Part of him hoped that one day, you’d just force yourself on him and claim him like a prize. He didn't think it'd ever happen but he never got tired of fantasizing about it. He hoped he'd have some sort of opportunity for you to finally make your move.
He'd imagine you cornering him in the locker room showers and covering his mouth to make sure no one finds out.
Cloud sneakily rubs his sensitive nipples against the cold wall tiles as you enter him. “Shh, this is what you get for being such a tease.” You spank him, your cock forcefully entering his pussy. Cloud shivers at the sounds of your heavy breathing. He can tell how aroused you are and how much you love his body. He rolls his eyes back as you stretch him wide open, his own heavy breaths making him feel lightheaded.
Or he’d imagine you giving him an ultimatum and forcing him to submit to you in exchange for keeping his job.
Cloud fakes a look of disgust as he stares at your rock hard cock. He looks up at you then back at your length, hesitating before enveloping it in his mouth. “There you go, Cloud, finally doing what I hired you for.” You praise him. He shudders at the thought, his pussy throbbing with need. “This is what you should be doing, not out on the battlefield but here, pleasing me.”
He looks up at you, trying to look angry. You smirk and push his head down, forcing him to shift his focus back.
His latest fantasy was about being trapped together. He hoped that something would happen to keep the two of you together for a long time. And he’d tease you even more to frustrate you. Then you’d finally do it.
He didn't think that exact scenario would actually play out.
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rosenclaws · 4 months ago
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Hii, I saw you were taking requests and was wondering if you could maybe write like slow burn smut for Logan in X-men days of futures past? I was thinking a mutant! reader in their early-mid twenties who are inexperienced and very shy/quiet. They also have powers similar to Jean grey. One night Logan and the reader are left alone in the mansion and during an innocent game of drunk 21 questions, the reader accidentally gets a glimpse of what's on Logan's mind 👀
Sorry if that's too detailed, I had a dream like this recently and I can't stop thinking of it 😭 it's okay if you don't wanna :) tysm 💞
a/n: Hi! So I hope it's okay but I didn't make this a full on smut fic. I can do a part two if you really want but I ended up making this a little different. It's a little angstier and there's spice at the end but no full on smut. I hope it's enough!
warnings: fem!reader, spicy makeout, teasing, flirting, fluff, angst.
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You couldn't stop staring. Just who the hell was this man? When you had opened the door you were met with the handsome stranger. Tight denim pants and that brown leather jacket. You couldn't even answer his question. Too busy staring him down. He smirked and took off his sunglasses, leaning against the door until your faces were inches apart.
"Like what you see sweetheart?" You could barely stutter out a response before Hank and pushed you to the side and took over. Telling you to go back to the lab. With a roll of your eyes you went away.
See you had been at the mansion for years now. It was your only hope and even with it being pretty much abandoned Charles and Hank let you stay. You honed your powers while helping out around the place. It wasn't until dinner time that you finally learned what the hell was going on. The mans name was Logan and he was here to save the world from a future where mutants are being hunted into extinction.
At first you laughed, thought he was full of shit but then you peered into his mind. Only for a moment and saw it. You weren't laughing after that. So now he's sitting in your kitchen drinking beer. You were watching him from the door. Was it creepy? Yes but you couldn't stop yourself.
"You can come out now sweets, I'm not gonna bite." He looks over at you and you hide behind the door. Embarrassment creeping over you as you shyly peek your head out. He was looking at you completely unamused.
"Sorry, I got curious." He smirks and pats the seat next to him. Quietly you join him. Tapping the counter as he sits there silently. He offers you a sip of his beer and you take it.
"Blech." You scrunch your nose up. You never liked beer so you don't know why you thought this time would be different. Logan laughs and takes another sip.
"So, what were you curious about?" You stare at the counter as answer him. You can't look at him, he's too intimidating.
"Everything. Did you really come here from the future?"
"You saw in my head didn't you?" Your eyes widen in surprise. You had no clue he knew about that. Normally people can't tell and you do try to stay out of peoples minds but you couldn't resist.
"I'm so sorry I-" You're cut off by Logan's chuckle.
"You say sorry too much sweets."
"Sorry." He raises an eyebrow and smiles fondly.
The way he looks at you is strange. He doesn't seem like the friendly type and you had just met him so why is he being so nice to you.
"Am I alive in your future?" Logan's face falls, just for a moment. He covers it back up with that handsome smirk but you saw it.
"Tell you what, you get me another beer and I'll answer any questions you have." He sets down the empty bottle and waits. You open the fridge with your powers and summon a bottle of beer. He goes to reach it but you pull back.
"Ah, you answer my question first." He rolls his eyes and makes another grab for it but you move it out of both your reaches.
"As stubborn as always." He shakes his head.
"You're alive." He keeps it short. Not wanting to explain that the last time he saw you he held on so tight he almost ripped your suit. Knowing you were going into battle to protect him, to make sure he could finish the mission. You slowly bring the bottle back and hand it to him.
"So what happened? Why did they send you back? How do you know me? What's your mutation?"
"Okay okay one at a time Jesus." He answers your first question without words. Popping out metal claws from hands to take off the bottle cap.
"Woah." You reach out to touch them but he sheathes them back in before you can.
"Sentinels. They were created by Trask and they can morph to defend themselves against any mutation. I'm here to prevent the events leading up to everything."
"Couldn't this really mess up the future though? Like what if things get worse?" You ask, trying to wrap your head around the idea of time travel. It's not like it's impossible, I mean you literally control things with your mind but it's certainly a confusing concept to grasp.
"It might. But it's the only shot we had." You badly want to see what's going on in his mind. What kind of future he comes from and just how bad it really is.
"You're not asking any questions."
"Why would I?" He snorts and you catch him sneak a glance at you.
"Are we friends? Because you look at me like you know me already." Logan stays quiet. He refuses to look at you as he downs the rest of his beer. There's so much he could say but maybe he should stay quiet.
"You could say that."
"I'm sorry." You reach out for his hand. He flinches away at first but he grabs your hand when you try to pull away. He missed your touch. He missed the life he had before the sentinels. He missed you.
"For what sweetheart?" "Just, it seems like there's always so much pressure on you." He shrugs.
You haven't changed one bit. Always a big heart and a kind smile. He squeezes your hand gently. His hands are rough and they're so strong. You can't help but stare at the veins in his hands that run up to his arms. He lets go of your hand and you frown slightly.
"Logan? What happens if you fail?" You ask hesitantly, not really sure you want the answer.
"Then we're all dead." An uncomfortable silence settles over the room. You don't even know what he has to do but you know the weight on his shoulders must be enormous.
"Look you shouldn't worry about this. Trust me when I say I'm going to do everything I can." Everything he can to save you. Save the world too but in his mind you're his number one priority. He stands up and sadly you realize it's gotten late.
"Show me to my room?" He holds out his hand and you take it. You know for a fact that Hank already told him where he was staying but who are you to say no to more time with Logan.
"You tired?" He asks as you arrive at his room. You shake your head and he holds the door open.
"Want to stay?" He sees the way your eyes widen and he chuckles.
"Not like that, unless you want to." The truth is he wants more time with you.
Selfish as it may be he needs you. Just to be around you, even if you don't really know him yet. Your presence always calmed him. You nervously sit on the edge of his bed, playing with the blankets as he sheds his jacket. He's dressed in a white tank top and pants. He sighs as he lays down in bed, back against the headboard as he lights a cigar. You don't even know where he got that from. After a few moments of silence you decide to ask the forbidden question.
"Can I see what it's like?" You know that you shouldn't. That looking into his mind could be a huge mistake but you need to know.
"It's not pretty in here sweetheart. You might find something you aren't ready to see." His breath hitches as you start to move up the bed. Crawling until you're kneeling right next to him. You place your fingers on his temples.
"Logan," You whisper, asking him for approval. He nods and you close your eyes.
You're met with chaos. It's like his brain is constantly at war. Horrible memories of the future. Destruction, death. His friends are dying, the world is falling apart. Then there's you. You look older and an overwhelming feeling of desperation washes over you. You see yourself from Logan's point of view. He's begging you not to go. To stay safe and be with him but you don't stay. You have to give him the best chance. You disappear into the fog and Logan watches.
"Sweetheart," You hear his voice coming from the real world but you can't pull away. Going deeper and deeper into his mind. All the violence, all the loss this poor man has been through. So much anger.
"That's enough!" Logan grabs your wrists and tries to pull you off him but not even his super strength is enough to match your powers when you're like this.
He can see you start to panic. You haven't learned to control your powers as much yet and he can't stop you. So he takes a deep breath and starts thinking of one thing. You. Slowly the violent memories turn into something else. His brain starts to quiet and so does yours.
Years of your life together with Logan. Every kiss, every flirty glance. The quiet moments. It's like you're watching him fall in love with you. You start to calm down but then his thoughts take another turn. It's still you and him but the scenes are more...intimate.
His hands on your body, caressing, kissing. Loud moans and images that would make a grown man blush. It's dirty. It's hot. Just how much sex can two people have. He has you pinned to the bed, to the wall, over the table. In the shower, in the car, outside. Your hips start to move subconsciously against the sheets. Logan finally gets your hands free. Your breathing heavily, eyes blown wide as you stare at the man before you.
"We're together."
"Yes."
"You love me."
"Yes I do, sweetheart."
"Oh my god you've seen me naked." You gasp as you cover yourself with your hands. Logan laughs as he gently takes your hands away.
"If it helps you'll see me naked too. A lot." Your eyes glance down to his crotch briefly. From what you saw. It's big.
"This is really weird." You mumble as you sink down into the bed.
A concerned look washes over his face. He loves teasing you but never to the point of making you uncomfortable. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.
"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you sweetheart. If you want to go you're free to go." He loves you with all his heart and he knows that he's entered your life earlier than expected. So he's okay if you're not ready to know him yet. Because eventually you'll find each other again.
"It's not that. I promise. It's just. A lot." You explain. You watch the man in front of you. You saw your future together and you want it now. As selfish as that sounds you want it now.
"Can I kiss you?" You ask shyly. This man has seen you naked and taken you in every room in the mansion and yet you still nervous to ask for a kiss.
"Course you can." You cup his face, the scratchy feeling of his beard making you laugh.
Slowly you kiss him. He already knows just how you like it. Nipping your bottom lip to get access to your tongue. He slowly lays you down into the bed. Crawling over you as he deepens the kiss. You taste just as sweet as you always do.
"Logan," You moan as he places his knee in between your legs. Your hands slip under his white tank top. Groaning as you feel his chiseled abs. Fuck he's just perfect isn't he.
"Take it off." You beg as you tug his shirt. He smirks as he sits back on his knees and rips his shirt apart.
"A little dramatic don't you think." You say as he throws the scraps to the side.
"You like it." He growls. His hands coming to lift your shirt above your head.
"I can smell it on you babe. I can hear her calling my name." He bites your neck roughly as he grinds his hips against yours.
"Want me to show you a sneak peak of the future sweetheart?" He purrs as he toys with the hem of your pants. You run your hands over his bare chest. It's insane how hot he is. His eyes swirl with lust and love. A gentle care in the way he promises to ravage you. You look up at him, hands gripping onto his strong arms.
"Show me. Show me everything."
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yuujispinkhair · 1 month ago
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I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 10
🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna
Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 4k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 14 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear
MASTERLIST
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SUKUNA'S POV
He doesn't know how he got into this mess.
Sukuna was never the type to develop feelings. All he ever knew was casual sex. Just a little meaningless fun with no strings attached. Hell, he always thought he was somehow the broken twin who wasn't even capable of falling in love!
But look at him now. He is lying in his bed, wide awake in the middle of the night, staring restlessly at his ceiling because he can't stop thinking about a certain someone. You were here a few hours ago, and Sukuna's pillow still smells like your perfume, and it's driving him fucking insane! He wishes you were still here in his bed, in his arms, your naked skin pressed against his, your fingers tracing his tattoos while you joke around with him and occasionally steal a kiss.
Fuck, he wishes you stayed the whole night again, and he could wake up with you snuggled tightly against him as if his arms are your favorite place in the world.
Sukuna likes it when you spend the whole night and stay for breakfast. It's something he feels he wouldn't mind at all if it happened every night. It's a thought that is so ridiculous that it makes him laugh a low, humorless laugh.
Itadori Sukuna always had his rules. Never get attached. Never stay the night. Never let someone get too close.
But he broke all of those rules for you.
He wants to have you here. All the time. He wants to hold you every night, wants to roll onto his side behind you, and wrap your smaller body in his big, warm embrace. He wants to wake up to your soft, sleepy smile. He wants to have sleepy, lazy morning sex with you that ends in both of you laughing and joking around, making him feel alive even before he has his first cup of coffee and his morning run. He wants to make pancakes for you and walk to class with you, maybe hold your hand while doing so.
Sukuna groans and sits up in his bed, the ruffled sheets pooling around his hips as he runs a shaky hand through his messy hair.
"What did you do to me, princess?"
He asks the empty room, huffing as he rubs his face. It's so ironic what is happening to him. Sukuna has the reputation of being a fuckboy and a heartless asshole who ends things the moment his little fling tries to stake a claim on him. The campus bad boy who only does one-night stands and casual, meaningless sex. The guy who broke so many hearts that he knows there are whole hate groups dedicated to him on Instagram and Facebook.
And now he is the one losing his sleep over someone. Now, he is the one yearning. And his fucking reputation is making things even more complicated because, seriously, how can he expect you to give him your heart when he is known for being such an asshole?
A grim laugh escapes his lips. It's no use lying here and trying to fall asleep with all that on his mind. Sukuna gets up and walks over to his window only in his boxer briefs, not bothering to put on any other clothes, even as he yanks open the window and the chill night air hits his naked chest.
Sukuna hums softly as he sits on the window sill and lights a cigarette, shielding it from the wind in the palm of his large hand. He takes a deep drag, letting his head fall back as his eyes close and the nicotine fills his senses. He exhales slowly, opening his eyes to watch the cigarette smoke vanishing in the cold air blowing in from the street.
Sukuna's gaze lands on his desk and the stack of history books he borrowed from the library. He sighs and grabs the one on the top of the stack, flipping it open, his eyes scanning the page, hoping to distract himself with the descriptions of some Heian-era rituals. A topic that usually manages to keep Sukuna's undivided attention for hours.
But tonight, the words he reads don't register in his brain. Sukuna's mind strays to the smell of your perfume and your beautiful loud laugh, the way you looked at him earlier when he was on top of you and fucked you slowly, your eyes so full of something he couldn't put into words, but it made him feel all strange and almost flustered, and he had to look away, and instead lean down to kiss you with deep tongue kisses to make you stop looking at him like that as if you could see right into his soul.
"Shit."
Sukuna closes the book and stares at the dark street below his window.
He is such a fool.
The thing is, Sukuna really tried to suppress his feelings for you. He distracted himself with hockey, going to the gym even more often than usual, and lifting weights even more aggressively. Hell, he voluntarily agreed to binge-watch trashy horror movies with his brother just so his mind would shut up about you.
And when all of that didn't work, Sukuna told himself he would just fuck someone else to cure himself of those strange ideas that were filling his mind. He went to one of the many parties he always gets invited to, looking for a casual hookup. But he couldn't do it. Even just talking to another girl, one of many who wanted to join the long list of Sukuna's puck bunnies, felt wrong. Seeing her smile at him and flirt with him, so desperate for his dick, made the hairs on his arms stand up in alarm. And when she had the audacity to try sitting on Sukuna's lap, he had practically bolted from his seat and left the party in a hurry without looking back.
He had grabbed a bottle of vodka on his way out and drank way too much of it while he was sitting alone in his room, feeling like the world's biggest asshole (and for once, he wasn't proud of it) just for contemplating fucking someone else. It made him feel dirty. Like a cheater! Even though he wasn't even in a relationship with you, and nothing had happened between him and that random girl.
Sukuna had known right then that he was utterly and completely fucked.
Itadori Sukuna, fuckboy extraordinaire, was no longer interested in casual sex with various partners. He wanted to put his dick only into one person. He didn't want any one-night stands or casual flings anymore because fuck it, none of them were you. He didn't want to touch anyone else or let them touch him! It felt wrong even thinking about it!
And that's where he is now. In love for the first time in his life, scared out of his mind, and absolutely at a loss at what to do about it.
This is new territory to Sukuna. He knows sex, but he doesn't know this! Sure yeah, he wants to fuck you 24/7, wants to fuck you so good the only thing you remember is his name and nothing else, but it's not just that. Sukuna wants to spend time with you outside of having sex.
He wants to sit in the library with you on your little study dates as he has begun to refer to them in his mind. He wants you to visit him in his dorm not just to fuck, but to sit on his kitchen counter and chat with him while Sukuna cooks for you. He wants to meet up with you for coffee at midnight, tell you about hockey tactics, and listen to you tell him about the current story you are writing, hoping that when you write a love story, you think about him.
He wants to see you at all his games, dedicating his goals to you and getting his good luck kiss the night before each game. He wants to see the worry in your eyes when he gets slammed into the boards, wants you to kiss his bruises and dote on him afterward.
All those things make Sukuna feel so strangely warm, even in the most chilly hockey arena. Even lying in bed with you snuggled into his side and watching hockey videos with you on his phone is something that makes him feel happier than he ever remembered being.
It's a mess. He is a mess! Sukuna, who is usually so in control and smart about everything, suddenly feels like the biggest fool because this is something he is completely unfamiliar with. It's terrifying!
All his life, Sukuna was quite literally the King of the Ice. Unfeeling, cold-hearted, not interested. He didn't let anyone in. Always wore his cocky smirk and arrogant attitude like a shield. But then you came along.
And ever since you sneaked your way into his life, Sukuna catches himself, letting his mask slip when he is with you. He catches himself smiling at you instead of his typical smirk. He catches himself laughing genuinely with you, unrestrained and free. He lets you come to his room and stay there as if you belong there. And he hopes you want to belong there. In his room, in his bed, in his arms. He hopes you want to be his just as badly as he is yours.
He doesn't know what got into him when he told you about his past. That's another of Sukuna's rules: He never talks about his past! He doesn't think anyone deserves to know the real Sukuna. They can have this version of him he wants them to see. The rough, bad boy, the star athlete, the fuckboy the arrogant asshole.
But somehow, you make him spill things he has never said out loud before. Hell, Sukuna even catches himself telling you stuff he never even said to his twin brother! His own flesh and blood!
You changed him, and it makes him feel naked like never before. Stripped of his carefully applied mask. Vulnerable.
But as scary as that is, it also feels strangely good. Sukuna feels comfortable with you. It's such a new experience. He can just be himself, and you like him anyway. He suspects you could already see through his mask even before he got careless and let it slip. You seem to be able to read him like one of your books. Sukuna prides himself on his analyzing skills, but he thinks you are really good at those things, too. At least when it comes to him. You never let him push you away with all the stupid shit he says. You seem to find him funny, laughing loudly about his dry humor and arrogant remarks.
You are so close to him. You are his friend. And yes, that's a big fucking deal!
For as long as Sukuna can remember, he has never made friends. His grandpa always told him and Yuuji to go outside and play with the other kids. "It's important to make friends. Look at me. I am old and lonely, and when I die, I am sure only you two brats will be at my funeral. Don't end up like me!"
But Sukuna, who had always been smart, strong, charismatic, and good at anything he started, found that he had failed at that one thing. He didn't know how to make friends. He had just bullied the other kids and pushed them off the slide or threatened to beat them up if they didn't give him the soccer stickers he was collecting. He had always known how to make people fear him, admire him, or a mix of both. But he had never made a friend. His only friend has always been his brother.
But you? You are his friend, and it blows Sukuna's mind.
It blows his mind how you sneaked your way into his life and into his heart. And now everything feels different. He feels different.
Being Itadori Sukuna used to be lonely. Yes, he is the star player of the ice hockey team and, therefore, one of the most popular guys on campus. But those are just superficial connections. None of those people know him for real. But it's not like Sukuna ever cared. He didn't mind being alone. He didn't like most people anyway! He didn't need anyone besides his brother!
But now? He likes you. And he likes spending time with you. He wants you in his life. He feels so much lighter when you are with him. He misses you when he hasn't seen you for half a day! It scares him how much he needs you.
"Ah, fuck!"
Sukuna groans and throws the thick book across his room, not feeling better, though, when it hits the wall with a loud thud and falls to the floor, where it lands next to his hockey bag. Sukuna stares unseeingly at it as he takes another deep drag from his cigarette.
He is fucking scared. Sukuna, who is never scared of anything. Sukuna, who looks every rival fearlessly in the eyes before he takes them down. But this... this thing with you...these feelings he suddenly feels. This is scary.
Why do people act as if love is easy? It fucking isn't! It means someone has power over you. Power to hurt you. Power to utterly destroy you.
Fuck. Sukuna never thought it would come to this, but he is beginning to regret his life choices. Because Sukuna knows his reputation, and he knows you know it, too. And the whole fuckbuddies thing he asked you to do is just more proof of the kind of guy he is. Why would you be willing to give your heart to someone like him?
He is about to spiral more when the door suddenly gets pushed open, and Yuuji stands in the doorway,
"What the fuck was that noise? Did you throw something?"
Sukuna huffs, flicking the cigarette butt out of his window as he jerks his chin challengingly towards his brother,
"Why are you even still awake, brat?"
Yuuji shrugs,
"I was re-watching Human Earthworm. But this is not about me! What's up with you? Why are you throwing your precious history books?"
The way Yuuji says it is what gets to Sukuna. The worry in his twin brother's voice. His wide honey-colored eyes trail searchingly over Sukuna, trying to find out what bothers him, trying to help him.
And suddenly, Sukuna doesn't care about keeping up appearances anymore. Fuck it, this is his twin. This is the brat who has been attached to his hip since they were born three minutes apart. The only person who ever saw Sukuna cry, when they were seven, and Yuuji had chickenpox, and Sukuna was convinced he would die, and it scared him so much that he sobbed like an idiot at his brother's bedside.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking away from his twin and out over the nightly street as he murmurs,
"I like her."
Yuuji makes a "Ha!" sound that sounds way too triumphant and then adds,
"Yeah, I know."
Sukuna's head whirls around, and he stares at his twin incredulously. But Yuuji just rolls his eyes and shrugs,
"Come on! It's obvious! I see how much time you spend with her and how you smile when she is with you! You let her sleep in your bed and invite her over for dinner! It's so cute how you act around her!"
"Shut up, brat! It's not..."
Sukuna doesn't get any further because Yuuji interrupts him, grinning broadly at him,
"You are both so cute! To me, it's like you already are boyfriend and girlfriend!"
And Sukuna's half-hearted denial gets stuck in his throat. He stares wide-eyed at his twin. Just hearing his brother say those words sends a surge of adrenaline through Sukuna. The same feeling that fills his veins before every game. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Fuck. It should sound scary, but it doesn't. It sounds good. It sounds like everything he wants.
Sukuna sighs, hiding his face in his large hands and rubbing it desperately.
"I don't know what to do. I don't want to fuck this up."
"You won't fuck it up, man. She likes you too, I am sure! Just tell her how you feel."
Sukuna says nothing but just huffs softly and stares unseeingly at the wall behind his brother. Yuuji makes it sound so easy. As if it isn't a huge deal. As if this isn't the first time that Sukuna has felt anything like this. He clicks his tongue, and his hands automatically grab his cigarette pack again. Long fingers with black painted nails pull out another cigarette, which he brings to his lips with shaky hands.
Sukuna lights it and takes a deep drag, waiting for the nicotine to fill his veins before he sends his twin a glare and rolls his eyes in annoyance,
"Just tell her how I feel? Tsk. Do you have any other super smartass advice, brat?"
Yuuji makes an incredulous noise, about to complain, but Sukuna stops him by sighing and then adding softly, without looking at Yuuji,
"What if she doesn't want me like that? Or what if I fuck everything up? It's not like I am boyfriend material. The whole campus knows that. With my reputation, it would be no wonder if she runs."
"Oh, shut up, idiot."
Sukuna hears the shuffling of feet and then confident footsteps so very similar to his own before he feels his twin brother's body push against him, joining Sukuna on the windowsill. Yuuji bumps against Sukuna's leg and reaches out to ruffle Sukuna's hair, reversing their roles for once.
"Look at me, Kuna."
Sukuna makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat, but he sighs and turns to look at his brother, the hand holding the cigarette pressed lightly against his forehead.
Yuuji looks at him with that infuriatingly compassionate look in his honey-colored eyes, always treating Sukuna with so much kindness and genuine affection, whether he deserves it or not. Even Yuuji's voice is soft and gentle, understanding, when he tells Sukuna,
"You won't fuck it up. I know you are scared you will break her heart because that's all you ever did to girls. But it won't happen this time, Kuna. I know it. I know you. She is too important to you. And as tough as you like to act, you have a soft spot for the ones you love. Even if we are very few people. But if someone manages to break through your defense and find a way into your heart when you would do anything for that person. And she definitely broke through your defense."
Yuuji laughs good-naturedly and pokes Sukuna's chest with his index finger while he adds,
"It doesn't matter what you did before she came into your life. It doesn't matter that you used to think you would never fall in love. You changed. You have found your person. And that's all that matters. Not your past or what you used to think about relationships. All that matters is what you'll do from now on. And come on, my big brother is always the best at everything he does! So I know you will be an amazing boyfriend if you let yourself walk that path."
There's a lump in Sukuna's throat all of a sudden, and he gulps hard, feeling lightheaded somehow at hearing Yuuji say all those things. Sukuna does the only thing he knows to do in that situation and pats Yuuji's finger away, acting annoyed, even though he feels like he is overflowing with gratefulness for having such a good little brother.
Yuuji chuckles softly, patting Sukuna's hand away, too. His lips lift in a mischievous grin, a grin that is far too similar to the one Sukuna sees in the mirror. Sukuna steels himself for trouble right when Yuuji opens his mouth and adds in a sly tone,
"And if everything I just said wasn't enough to convince you, ask yourself how would you feel if she graduated and moved away and lived a life without you? How would you feel about that? Or if she starts dating another guy right in front of your eyes because you never told her how you feel, and she thinks you don't like her that way? How would that make you feel?"
And suddenly, blood is rushing in Sukuna's ears, and a vein is throbbing in his temple as he stares at his twin. Now that was a fucking eye-opener!
When that Gojo brat tried to hit on you, Sukuna saw red like never before in his life. The thought of seeing you with Gojo or any other guy makes him feel sick to his stomach. He doesn't want to lose you. He could never get over it if you dated someone else because Sukuna was too much of a coward to tell you he likes you.
You're his girl, and Sukuna is your boy, and anything else sounds like a cruel joke! And he realizes right fucking now that it's in his hands! The only way to make you hopefully stay with him is to be honest with you.
And yeah, that is a fucking scary thought. Opening up about his feelings, baring his heart to you on a silver platter, sounds like the scariest thing Sukuna ever did. But the thought of seeing you walk away because Sukuna wasn't man enough to tell you how he feels is scarier than walking up to you and dropping his mask and confessing how he feels.
Sukuna reaches out to clap his brother's broad shoulder appreciatively, wordlessly thanking him for the much-needed pep talk and advice.
He knows what he has to do now. Fuck it! He is Sukuna! He is the fucking King of the Ice! He is someone who laughs fear in the face and wrestles it to the ground, and works his ass off to get what he wants, no matter how big the challenge is!
He won't act like a scared little boy anymore! He will tell you how he feels!
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"Hey, princess."
Sukuna walks up to you, where you are grabbing some books from your locker, looking far too pretty and sexy in the leggings and oversized sweatshirt you are wearing. You jump slightly at hearing his voice behind you. It's so fucking cute.
You turn around as Sukuna stops in front of you, looking up at him with big eyes and a little grin as you greet him.
Sukuna smirks at you as he reaches out to ruffle your hair, a move that always earns him the cutest little squeal from you and a half-joking, half-annoyed roll of your pretty eyes as you pat his hand away. But as always, you cannot stop the happy smile from spreading over your face. The smile that always makes Sukuna's heart feel a lot warmer.
He is so smitten it's embarrassing. But judging by the way you giggle and wrap your small hand around Sukuna's biceps, leaning closer so your face and tits press lightly against his arm while you smile up at him, Sukuna can easily pretend that you feel the same way about him.
Well, he will find out if he is right soon, won't he?
He walks you to your creative writing classroom, carrying your books for you while inwardly giving himself a pep talk, the same one he gives himself before every hockey game. You can do it! You will get anything you want! You will reach your goal. You are the fucking King of the Ice, man!
Sukuna stops in front of your creative writing classroom handing you your stack of books, his lips lifted in a lopsided grin as he cocks his head, silently applauding himself for how casual he manages to act even while his pulse is fluttering nervously and his muscles are all tensed up from how scared he is to fuck this up. But his voice comes out in his usual lazy drawl when he tells you,
"We have to work on your ice skating skills. Meet me at the arena tonight at ten."
You hug the books to your chest, tilting your head and blinking up at Sukuna with a little confused frown on your pretty face that he would love to kiss away right this fucking second.
"At ten? But is it even still open that late?"
"Let that be my problem, princess. So, are you coming?"
Sukuna shoves his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, one eyebrow raised expectantly as he grins at you. If you say no, he will literally start pouting and use every ounce of charm he has in himself until you say yes.
But he doesn't have to worry. You laugh softly and nod,
"Of course, I'll be there."
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I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭💗💗 I had the time of my life writing this chapter from Sukuna's POV!! It always hits me right in the feels when I do that because it makes me feel so close to him.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter and all the things that flow through Sukuna's mind. If you haven't already done it, please listen to "Novocaine" by The Band Camino because it describes Sukuna's turmoil perfectly. While working on this chapter, I listened to it on repeat, and also "Tequila" by Dan + Shay, because it also describes this YEARNING, I think. Oh god, I am so in love with him, it's not even funny anymore 😭😭
Sighhhhh, he really likes us, hm? 😵😍
In the next chapter, Reader will meet Sukuna at the ice hockey arena, but it's a bit more than just the private ice skating lesson that she expects.
Thank you so much for all the love you give this AU! It means the world to me and makes me so happy! I wish you all a Happy New Year! 💗💗
Reblogs and comments would be very sweet.
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daenysx · 8 months ago
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hi! how about remus lupin with a shy reader? or something along those lines haha thank you and have a nice day :)
thank you for requesting!! <333 requests are open
remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff
"morning, dove" someone whispers against your ear. there's a kiss brushed on your cheek. you bury your face further into the pillow with a soft hum. the person in question chuckles.
you blink your eyes open. "remus?"
remus smiles, he leans on his elbow as he looks at you with lovesick eyes. "good morning."
he's in your room. on your bed. he sees your sleepy face and your messed up hair. god, he's so pretty and you-
"morning, remus." you jump from bed, your cheeks blushed under his playful eyes. "um- how did you-"
"shelby let me in."
you can't believe you forget you live with a roommate. how else would he be here? "oh- right." you mumble.
"i'm sorry, did i make you uncomfortable?" remus asks, he sits properly to look into your eyes.
"no!" you say, panicking. "no, of course not. i just- i wasn't expecting you and i'm-"
"so pretty." he says. his eyes are so easy to get lost in.
you shake your head. "um- i just, i'm gonna go to the bathroom, 5 minutes."
remus chuckles behind you, he leans back to your headboard.
you have a small bathroom mirror but it doesn't hide how blushed your cheeks are. "come on." you mutter to yourself. you can't help it, your stomach fills with butterflies whenever you see remus. having him on your bed, waking you up? both a dream and a nightmare apparently. you wash your face with cold water, such a poor attempt to calm down.
you leave the bathroom with slow steps, remus is in your kitchen now. he holds a coffee mug in his hand, you hear the sound of coffee machine. he extends a hand to you, long fingers covering your entire hand when you touch him.
"shelby left." remus says, pulling you closer to him. "i'm sorry again. i thought i'd surprised you."
you try to control your heartbeat enough to kiss your new boyfriend. it's only been two weeks but remus is a charming guy. he made his way into your heart quickly, you don't even know how to react to him most of the time. it's all too exciting- his every word and every touch.
"you don't have to say sorry." you say, lifting your chin. "i was surprised, so it worked."
remus leans down to close your height difference. "can i kiss you?"
you do something in between nodding and smiling. he presses his lips against yours and you close your eyes. you don't think you can manage to see his pretty face so close to yours right now. remus holds your waist to get you closer. you sigh happily into the kiss.
"you look so beautiful by the way." he whispers between two lovely kisses. "when you try to keep sleeping, when you frown against the pillow."
"please." you whisper. he should stop if he wants you alive in his arms.
remus kisses you so sweetly, you think you really need a cup of coffee to get back to yourself. his now free hand cups your cheek to rub the sensitive skin, the other hand still on your waist. you bring your hands to his neck, realizing he enjoys the kiss as much as you do. he is warm, your fingertips rest against his skin.
you have to stop for a minute or you'll lose your mind. can you get addicted to kissing someone? his lips are testing your patience early in the morning, his hands are whole another issue. remus smiles when you break the kiss, he brushes his lips against your forehead to keep you in his arms.
totally buried in remus's chest, you stand in the center of your kitchen. the smell of coffee is tempting but you can't separate yourself from remus. stolen seconds of the morning with him, is it possible to spend every early hours of your days like this now? your poor heart will not take it.
"what do you wanna have for breakfast?" he asks with a low voice.
"coffee." you say against his chest, lifting your head up to see him.
he laughs. "coffee's not a breakfast, sweetheart. tell me something with actual food."
you nuzzle closer to his chest. "avocado toast? and i got blueberries from the store yesterday."
"perfect." he says. "can i make your toast for you?"
"do you want to?" you ask with a stupid smile on your face. god, you're falling in love.
"of course i want to." he says. "okay, breakfast game, you'll sit on the counter and tell me where everything is as i prepare our toasts."
he lifts you quickly, you can see his eyes properly now that you're almost the same height.
you part your legs instinctively, your eyes on the ground. remus stays right there, standing in front of you with your thighs under his big hands. you want to kiss him like this so badly. you wish you can ask him without getting shy but it feels impossible for now.
"what's that?" he asks, his head following every move of yours. "what's with the pout, angel girl?"
are you pouting? you don't realize. you wanna kiss him.
"kiss?" you whisper. remus smiles. you blush. he kisses you, his lips move against yours delicately. his morning kisses are perfect, there's no rush, they are simply slow and passionate. he rubs the soft flesh of your thighs, you follow his lead on kisses.
he breaks the kiss this time. "we gotta eat something or else i'm gonna faint."
you kiss him for one more second. "it's okay, i'll take care of you."
"yeah?" he asks against your lips. "such a tempting little thing you are, and it's only 9 am."
your cheeks heaten up again but it's nothing unusual now. remus looks at you with barely open eyes, you swallow. he takes a step back, taking the mug he had in his hand earlier.
"coffee?" he asks, like he hasn't played with your heartbeat seconds ago. you manage to nod.
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