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sunni-stuff · 5 months ago

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 This is part 4 Part 5

His question hit like a punch, and the pressure of it lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. Armed Forces Day? Three years ago? A sharp jolt of recognition hit you, though the details of that night remained fuzzy. The memories were there, but they felt distant—like something you hadn't allowed yourself to fully remember after becoming a mother.

You steadied yourself, trying to mask the unease rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?” you tried to sound steady but the tightening grip on your purse betrayed the rush of nerves running through you.

Simon shifted, his broad frame nearly eclipsing the dim light of the bar. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle in his own head, as though each word carried a burden too heavy to bear. “There was a night,” he began, his tone low and rough, every syllable deliberate. “Here. Three years ago. You were here. So was I.”

Your heart skipped, a wave of realization hitting with an almost physical force. The hazy recollections of that night flooded back, slowly accumulating together—laughter, drinks, an unexpected connection. Something that hadn’t felt planned but had burned far too bright to ignore.

The knot in your stomach twisted painfully, every part of you urging you to push it away, but the truth had already begun to sink in. “You’re…” The words stalled in your throat, heavy and lodged, the sentence unfinished as the reality stung like an accusation between you.

Simon exhaled sharply, part sigh, part laugh—but there was no humor in it. His gaze locked onto yours with unsettling intensity, and for a moment, it felt like he was waiting for you to break. “Yeah,” he replied simply, the word thick with certainty. “And she’s mine, isn’t she?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine, your body instinctively stiffening. The truth strung in the silence between you both, too glaring to avoid. Heart racing, every sense screamed to deny it, to distance yourself from this conversation before it spiraled out of control. But anything that could be said felt wrong, heavy on your tongue as you forced them out: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Simon’s eyes held yours, filled with something you hadn’t seen before—a desperation that cut through his usually composed demeanor. “Please,” he urged, the plea more potent. “Just tell me.”

How could this be happening? How could something so raw, so unspoken, suddenly spill into the air between the two of you? The weight of the moment anchored you, and for a moment, you couldn’t find a way to move past it.

“She is,” you muttered at last, the confession slipping out like an unwanted secret. Fingers clenched tightly against the table’s edge, grounding yourself against the suffocating reality pressing in. “I never thought… never thought you'd come back into the picture.”

A brief silence stretched out before you spoke again, everything tumbling out in a rush. "I didn’t even know your name. All I recall was you kept making me." The admission hung in the air, lighter than it was, an attempt to lighten everything you didn’t want to say.

The memory refused to stay buried. His face from that night, the intensity of his stare under the bar’s muted glow, how his presence seemed magnetic and overwhelming all at once—it all surfaced, unbidden. The connection had been undeniable, but that was your secret to carry. He didn’t need to know the details you still clung to..

“I don’t even know how it happened,” The sentence barely made it past your lips. “We used protection.” Doubt crept into your mind, unraveling the careful narrative you’d built for yourself. Did we? The past, fogged by alcohol and blurred moments, refused to come into focus.

Simon blinked, the blankness in his expression giving way to confusion, then disbelief. “Did we?” he asked with an edge of uncertainty. He was searching for answers neither of you seemed able to provide. Silence filled the space between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

"That parts a bit fuzzy," you admitted quietly, thoughts drifting away, the edges of the remembrance blurring with every passing second. “And clearly we didn't given our current situation.”

Meeting his gaze, you knew this was the man from that fortunate night. Only different. More mature as if life hadn’t been kind to him. “All I know is… I woke up, and it was just me.” The recollection hung heavier than expected, twisting in your chest. "I never imagined I’d run into you again."

A heavy silence settled between the two of you, the gravity of everything left unsaid pressing down on the air. Neither of you knew how to move forward, or even if moving forward was possible.

“I knew she was mine,” Simon muttered, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, fighting against his own emotions threatening to break free.

You blinked in disbelief, the reality of his revelation settling in like ice in your veins. “You saw her?” The shock was evident. The idea that he had been so close—watching, perhaps even knowing—yet remained silent was almost too much to process.

Simon nodded, his gaze never meeting yours as he began. “Last month. When you were leaving the café with her. Johnny stopped you, and I was there.” He hesitated, swallowing hard as if the bulk of it all was pressing on him. “Johnny and the lads, they were the first to say they saw a little girl with my face. I was skeptical at first But then… then I saw the two of you together. And I saw it. Saw me in her. I had no idea she was even a possibility. Or that you were, for that matter."

Your breath hitched, a sharp sting rising in your chest. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface, the hurt, and the confusion all collided in one sudden wave. “Why didn’t you say anything?” The question shot out before you could stop it, the accusation sharp and loaded with all the frustration. He had been so close. Watching. Why didn’t he speak up?

Simon paused, his gaze dropping to his hands, fingers flexing as if he were trying to grasp for something he couldn’t hold. The silence stretched long between you, the tension palpable, as if the room itself was holding its breath. He wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came.

“I…” He started, staring at his hands as though they might hold the answer. “I’m not good with things like this, love.” He rubbed the back of his neck, having a hard time fully expressing how he felt but this moment needed authenticity. “I needed time to figure out if I could step into a life that was already doing fine without me. I was afraid of complicating things, of ruining something that was just fine without me."

You didn’t expect what he said to hit you so hard. The impact of his confession—that he had stayed away because he wasn’t sure if he was fit to be a part of your life, Adira’s life—settled deep within you, heavier than you could have imagined. You’d been fine, hadn’t you? Raising Adira, carving out a life on your own. But there's always been that lingering voice in the back of your mind, that small, quiet thought of “what if?” What if things had been different? What if he had been there from the start? Maybe you wouldn’t have had to quit those overpriced mommy-and-me classes because of those judgmental women who gossiped behind your back. Maybe things would’ve been easier.

“I wasn’t about to just waltz in, love,” Simon’s voice softened, more vulnerable now, like he was carefully weighing his thoughts. “I needed to know if you’d even want me here. You and her…” His gaze darkened for a moment, his voice trailing off as though unable to bear too much out in the open. “I wasn’t sure if I was the right person to step into something already so… perfect.”

In those words, there was something you hadn’t expected to hear from him: honesty. He was afraid. Afraid of being the one to ruin what you had built. Afraid of not being enough for you or for Adira.

“I guess I understand,” you said quietly. "I just wish you showed up sooner."

Simon didn’t answer right away. Something within him flickered with guilt, and for a moment, you both stood there in silence. He glanced down at his hands, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out, but wasn’t sure if he had the right to.

"Can I meet her?" Simon asked nervously, a grown man fidgeting in his seat, the weight of his request sinking in.

"Now?" You chuckled, trying to brighten the moment. "It's late. I'm sure she's already asleep."

Simon’s gaze flickered with hesitation, but the desire was clear. He was barely holding it together, as if afraid that the chance to meet his daughter would slip away if he didn’t ask now.

"I understand," he mumbles after a pause, almost to himself, but there was a longing there you couldn’t ignore. "I just…I need to see her. To know her. Even if just for a moment."

The magnitude of the situation pressed down on you again, this wasn’t something you had expected when you woke up this morning. You had no clue what to do with all of this, with him, with Adira’s future—your future. But still, you could hear his sincerity.

"Tomorrow," You decided. "We can meet up tomorrow, but it has to be on her terms. She's not exactly the warmest with new people."

Simon nodded, his expression a mix of relief and determination. "I can wait."

You gave him a small smile, a silent acknowledgment of the moment. There was still so much to figure out, but at least now, for the first time, there was a possibility. A chance to rebuild what had been lost. "Bring toys," you suggested sincerely, thinking about what would make her happy. "She likes trains. Doesn’t need to be anything cartoon-ish, just a proper train."

Simon blinked, a touch of confusion in his gaze. "She doesn't like dolls? Like most girls?" His tone had a hint of disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite picture a little girl who wasn’t into the typical, pink frilly things.

The thought of dolls made your stomach tighten, and you shook your head vehemently, as if to expel the very idea. "God, no," you replied, unease creeping into the conversation. "Please, don’t bring dolls. That’s the last thing I want." You shuddered as you spoke, recalling all the unnerving memories. "She gets all Sid from Toy Story with them."

Simon’s brow furrowed even deeper, clearly unsure. "What does that mean?"

You visibly grimaced, the image flashing vividly in your mind. "It means I wake up to doll heads scattered all over the place," you say, your voice low and serious. "And it's... creepy. Like she's planning something with them. It’s like waking up in a horror movie."

Simon chuckled at first, but as he saw the unflinching seriousness in your expression, his laughter quickly turned uncertain. His grin faded, and the unease that filled his eyes told you that he was realizing this wasn’t some joke. "You’re messing with me, right?"

Your stare at him, completely deadpan. "I wish I was."

For a moment, Simon just stared, taking in your unwavering expression. His lips parted, a nervous laugh escaping him as he absorbed warning. "Alright," he said slowly, now understanding your cautious warning. "No dolls. Trains. Got it."

You gave a relieved sigh, feeling the baggage lift off your shoulders. The tension hadn’t fully gone, but for now, at least the toy issue was settled. There were plenty of bigger things to confront later, but this? This was a small victory.

This one is a little shorter than the rest, simply because I want the meet up chapter to be really long for yall! :3

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#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #sunshine-sunni #singlemom!reader

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skzdarlings · 8 months ago

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harmony ; 3racha x reader ; one-shot

masterlist.

porn without plot. you want to have some fun and you know exactly which boyfriend can help get it started.

pairing: 3racha/reader content info: sub!reader, dom!changbin, dom!chan, switch!jisung, polyamorous mmfm foursome (so they’re all involved with each other and interact with each other), very enthusiastic consent with an implied red/yellow/green light system (yellow is employed once). some rough play (esp with changbin), cnc game that reader initiates, face-slapping, choking, dirty talk, pussy eating, double penetration, blow job, all three holes at once, multiple orgasms, jisung having a monster dick for no reason, aftercare. (technically no mention of birth control but it’s a long established relationship and you can safely assume it’s taken care of.)

word count: 5255 words.

enjoy <3

When you want to play – really play – you know where to go.

Jisung can be an overthinker and Chan is always protective, so they hesitate before getting too rough with you. Changbin, however, never holds back. You know how to touch him, how to smile that particularly provocative smile, how to bat your eyelashes and invite him to play.

You are thinking about it when he returns from his work-out, muscles straining in his black tank shirt, body damp with sweat, and looking like pure, unadulterated sex. Chan and Jisung are huddled around a laptop in the living room, their entrepreneurial endeavours a seemingly endless chore, and they are so engrossed in their work they don’t see you leave.

You sneak off to your room to change, ditching your shorts and underclothes, slipping into one of Changbin’s old t-shirts and absolutely nothing else.

You intend to hunt him down after his shower, but it’s Changbin who comes to you. He ambles casually into your bedroom without knocking, comfortable and relaxed and at home. You have your own rooms for personal space but you all come and go as you please.

Your room is dimly lit with strings of fairy lights, the bed crowded with pillows and teddy bears, not to mention a big strong boyfriend who makes himself at home. Changbin is dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, his hair blow-dried soft and fluffy, but body as bulky and powerful as ever.

“Look at this,” he says, holding out his phone. A sweater you were eyeing has gone on sale so he sits on your bed and buys it for you without hesitation. He giggles to himself with all that self-satisfied delight, teasing that he is the best boyfriend and your number one favourite.

He knows the truest harmony lies among the four of you, together, always, but he likes to tease.

You like to tease back.

“Be careful, you big bully,” you say, because he plops himself down at the head of the bed, knocking a teddy bear over. You pick it up and aggressively shove it back into place.

He quirks an eyebrow, his giggling joviality replaced with a studious expression. He seems to finally notice what you are wearing, blinking his gaze up and down your body as you rearrange the pillows behind him.

You bat your eyelashes, all playful innocence.

“Don’t be so serious,” he says. He deliberately knocks a teddy onto the floor.

You playfully gasp, bending over with a flourish and flashing him.

“Ah,” he says, putting his phone on your bedside table. “It’s like that?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, blinking.

“Hm,” he says, giving you another quick once-over. “Okay.”

Changbin hauls you over his shoulder and wrestles you onto the bed. He puts you on your back, upside down so your head is near the foot. He climbs right on top of you, not an inch of muscle budging even when you thud your fists against his firm chest.

“Binnie,” you say, wriggling underneath him, the t-shirt riding up your thighs. “You’re crushing me, you big mean brute.”

“Brute,” he says, laughing. He grabs your hips and pins you to the mattress. “Tsk. You like it like that.”

“No, I – ah!”

Changbin never hesitates. He knows you will tell him if you don’t like something. It’s a game of trust, full of an all encompassing love that boasts such tender affection beneath each action. Being with Changbin is like being nestled in blankets by a warm fire on a snowy winter’s day. You are sheltered in the storm, feeling that protection even more keenly because of the dangerous cold.

Between you, there is nothing but heat.

He gathers the hem of the t-shirt and shoves it up, past the skin of your tummy, exposing your thighs and all the bare softness between them. Oh, yes, all softness against his hard body, the thickness of his biceps as he holds you down, his big thighs shoved between your open legs, broad shoulders relentless and ungiving even where you smack him repeatedly.

“Binnie, be careful,” you say, trying to close your legs around his hips.

You gasp when he puts a hand up your shirt, squeezing your breast in the cup of his palm. His mean fingers immediately find the stiffening peak, thumb tormenting you while you whine.

You buck as if you want to throw him off, but he is right where you want him and he knows it. He knows you, your body like a well-loved instrument, his strong hands drawing every musical gasp and sigh out of you.

“Where’s your panties, hm?” he asks. Undeterred by your continuous bucking and writhing, he slides his hands down to your naked hips. He was slouched half-on top of you but he gets up on his knees now. He pushes your thighs apart, forcing his hips between them.

“Shameful,” he says. He tries to grab your flailing hands to no avail. You smack his chest and shoulders, dodging the reach of his fingers.

He smacks your face, a tap hard enough to register the game has really begun, but not so hard to sting for long. You still gasp, your hands pausing. It gives him time to work a hand between your open thighs.

“Ahh—!”

“Yah, look at you,” he says, rubbing his fingers through your wet pussy without finesse or gentleness. You twitch every time his knuckle rides over your clit. “Bad girl,” he says. “Who are you so wet for?”

He gives you no time to answer, scooting back to drag you to the middle of the bed. You are still upside down, your pillows and teddies piled behind him, all the dreaminess of your girly lace bedroom in contrast to his stark masculinity. It makes your whole body thrum with arousal, hot from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. You feel him even where he is not touching you.

Where he is touching you, you burn, heart erratic with anticipation as he squeezes your thighs, as he shoves your hands out of his way, as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze.

“Ah – Binnie—!” You get louder. Your bedroom door is open. Chan and Jisung might be focussed on their work, but not for long, not if you keep this up. Still, to speed things along, you scream, “Chan! Channie! Ch—hmmph!”

Changbin shoves a pillow in your face, holding it there, smothering you to soften your shrieks. His other hand is on your thigh – no, slipping higher, a surface touch through all that wet desire. Then his blunt fingers are inside you. You moan into the pillow, clenching around the thrust of his fingers. You get dizzy quickly, partially because of the pillow, partially his skilled hand.

He abruptly lifts the pillow. The oxygen goes straight to your head, as intoxicating as a kiss. You realize you are close to coming already, hiccupping with all that sudden breath as he fucks his fingers into you.

Changbin is relentless. You smack his chest but he ignores it, his strong arm keeping a steady momentum. An orgasm builds and builds, your fingers hooking into his t-shirt for some leverage. He puts a hand on your belly and holds you down. He feels so strong and heavy, utterly unmovable, and it makes falling apart so much easier.

“Didn’t you have something to say to Chan?” he says.

You gasp and turn your head. Sure enough, Chan is standing there, watching you. Changbin does it on purpose, knowing when you are close, so you look at Chan just as the orgasm crests.

Chan is standing beside the bed, dressed in his basketball shorts and a sleeveless black shirt, a baseball cap over his curly dark hair. He must have entered the room while the pillow was on your face, and now he is standing there, watching Changbin hold you down and fuck you with his hand.

“Channie, please—” you say, then you come all over Changbin’s fingers. You cry out because he keeps tormenting you, thumb shaking back-and-forth across your throbbing clit. “Ah, Binnie—Channie, please!”

Chan gives Changbin a look, his eyebrow quirked, then he just leans towards the open door and whistles. It’s a sharp, high whistle, a call to attention.

“Han,” he says, not even very loud. Chan never needs to shove or force or yell. When Chan says come, you come.

You always obey Chan. You throw your head back, gasping as you come a second time. It is so soon after the first orgasm that it feels like one long, rolling wave. It continues to shudder through you, even after Changbin slips his hand out.

The shirt is still shoved up your tummy, soft skin and wet pussy on display. Chan does not look away, reaching blindly behind himself for your desk chair. He yanks it closer to the bed and plops down, taking off his cap and tossing it on the floor. He is bare-faced, expression so open and honest, but a hunger in his eyes that darkens his whole face.

Changbin just looks giddy. You look at him as he giggles, that funny little chortle leaving that buff body. Then you realize he is rolling his sweatpants down.

“Channie!” you yelp, shrieking and twisting while Changbin licks his palm and strokes his cock, his other hand effortlessly holding you down.

Chan slouches in the chair. He props an elbow on the arm-rest and puts his chin in his palm. His other hand slips under the waistband of his shorts.

“Careful, baby,” Chan says, seconds before Changbin smacks you again. It is within your limit, but still enough to turn your head on impact.

Like before, it breaks your concentration, and Changbin takes the opportunity to grab your hips, line up, and shove his cock inside you. Chan and Jisung always give you a minute to adjust, the size of a hard cock definitely different from fingers, but Changbin never waits. Even while you wince and complain, he fucks you through it, gripping your hips hard and ignoring your hands pushing against his chest.

“Too much, Binnie,” you say, even though the sting is quickly passing. You’re so wet and it makes it easy for him to fuck you. It even sounds messy, every thrust opening you up, getting you even wetter, the bed creaking as he pulls you onto his cock over and over.

You look over at Chan who is still watching, the shape of his hand and his dick so clear through the material of his shorts as he fists his cock slowly.

You hiccup as Changbin switches from long, deep strokes to short, pounding ones.

At which point Jisung finally walks in, yapping about work, saying, “I was thinking we could postpone the meeting to Monday and—oh, hi, WHAAAT, we’re having sex in here? All right, man, okay, that’s cool, all right, what’s up.”

Oh, your sweet Jisung. He is also in house clothes, black shorts and a sleeveless white shirt, dark hair feathering through his fingers as he runs his hand through it. He walks further into the room, kicking the door closed behind himself for no reason. His attention is firmly fixed on you, holding your gaze while Changbin fucks you. The unmoving intensity of those big brown eyes leaves you tingling, a swoop in your belly that feels as thorough as a good fuck. It crashes into the feeling of Changbin inside you, makes your whole body get tight so Changbin groans and curses.

“Oh,” is all you can say. You cover your face with both hands, gasping when Changbin goes back to longer, deeper thrusts.

“Heyyy, baby, why are you hiding?” Jisung says in his sweetest voice.

You hear him approaching, even above the sound of you getting fucked, above Changbin’s little grunts, above Chan cursing. You feel the dip of the mattress when Jisung climbs up on the bed, sitting near your head. Then his hands are on your wrists, prying them away from your face. You try to wrestle them back but he holds them calmly, his own arms boasting a subtle musculature as he pins your hands to the mattress to stop you from moving.

“Yes,” Changbin says. “Like that. Come on.”

“Jisungie,” you whine, looking down at where Changbin is driving into you, feeling each thrust deeper than your pussy, all the way up to your throat. You tip your head back, looking at Jisung upside down.

He leans down, his hair swooping forward, tickling your face as he kisses your forehead and temple.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. Despite his soft voice, he does not lighten his grip, your hands still locked in place. “Does it hurt?” he asks, wide-eyed.

“Mmm,” you say, nodding, even while shuddering with so much pleasure that a tear spills down your cheek.

“Aww,” he says, licking that tear track, making every nerve spasm. “You’re so cute, baby.”

“She gets tighter when you choke her,” Chan says.

“Awww,” Jisung says. He releases one hand to reach for you. He wraps his fingers delicately around your throat, not even squeezing at first, just a caress as his hand curls around you.

Your adrenaline naturally peaks, body clenching, just like Chan said. Changbin groans his satisfaction and Jisung tightens his grip, keeping you pinned by the throat while Changbin goes still, coming inside you.

“Fuck,” Chan says.

Jisung releases your throat and you suck in a shaky breath. It is interrupted when Jisung swoops in, kissing your lips upside down. You squirm under the confusing messiness of his open mouth at this angle.

He comes up with a breath, one as shaky as your own, ravished from a kiss. He runs his hand through his hair and nods to Changbin, saying, “Turn her around.”

Two pairs of hands find you, manhandling you so easily between them. You yelp, startled by the movement, as they lift you up and turn you around so your head is in Changbin’s lap and Jisung is now the one between your legs.

Changbin hoists you into his arms, holds you in the cradle of his bicep as Jisung lays down between your open legs.

This is one area that Jisung never hesitates to indulge, his open mouth descending on your pussy with ravenous excitement.

You are so, so sensitive down there, almost numb beneath the first few searching swipes.

He presses his whole mouth there, moaning as he sucks on your clit then licks up and down, back and forth, around and around. His tongue rubs where Changbin just came, circling your sensitive hole, pressing there then licking back up to your already throbbing clit.

“Can’t come again,” you say, not entirely sure if it comes out coherent because your eyes are closed and your brain feels fuzzy.

He answers with a hum. He does not seem to be eating you out with the intention of making you come, but purely for his own pleasure as he sucks and licks and tastes. Despite that – and despite your words – you feel a tightening in your belly, a dull throb that feels too feels too deep to reach.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Changbin says when you start to writhe, his big arm wrapped around your neck, holding you tight to his beating heart.

The thud of that heart, the relentless flick of Jisung’s tongue, and Chan’s approving nod makes your thighs press around Jisung’s head.

“Oh—” is your last word before you come again, bucking hard against Jisung’s face. You gasp and cling to Changbin’s arm.

Jisung keeps licking at you, not relenting until your gasping whine is more of a scream. Then he kisses your thighs and hips before pushing himself up onto his knees.

He and Changbin wordlessly work together, sitting you upright to remove your only article of clothing. Both pairs of hands find you again, touching and groping and stimulating everywhere.

You shudder under all the sensation, eyes closing, rocking against nothing. You are desperate to close your legs to relieve the tension, but Jisung is kneeling between them. Fortunately, he knows you well, his hand sliding down there, fingers finding you, curling into you.

“You’re soo wet, baby, it’s embarrassing,” he says. “You need it that bad?”

He is still using his sweetest voice, like he doesn’t know he is about to utterly wreck your shit. Because Jisung always does without very much effort, simply by effect of having the biggest dick you have ever taken. It is part of the reason you usually can’t start with him, or why he takes his time when you do, because it is an aching endeavour whenever he tries to fit all that inside you.

Even the bulge in his shorts is obscene, the material rubbing against your thighs. He brings your hand to that bulge and groans when you squeeze it, saying, “That’s it, that’s it—”

He leans over you. It sounds like he and Changbin might be kissing above your head, sloppily at that. Jisung is probably shoving his tongue into Changbin’s mouth, the same tongue that was just inside you as it licked up the mess that Changbin made.

They press you between their bodies in an envelope of desire, utterly dominating your senses. Changbin smells like his shampoo, a deep scent like mahogany, while Jisung tends to douse himself in cologne, faded now at the end of the day but still a rich, expensive smell. Beneath all that is that simple sweat, bodies getting worked up, raw sex overwhelming all those other scents.

You breathe them in, whimpering because you are pressed so tightly between them. You can feel Jisung twitching in your hand and Changbin beginning to stiffen again at your backside.

There is a wet pop and a shared gasp when they stop kissing. Jisung grabs your face and pulls you up, his mouth hot when it claims yours, that stupidly talented mouth making you crazy.

“Hold her,” Jisung says, speaking against your lips while guiding Changbin’s hands. Jisung grabs your thighs and pushes them up, not quite folding you in half but almost there. He knows you need to be open to take him. Even then, you are already clenching, fluttering around nothing in anticipation.

Changbin holds your thighs back, hands pressed under the curve of your knee. Jisung hastily shoves his shorts down his thighs, leaving them gathered at the knee. He touches you and uses your desire to wet his dick, frantically jerking it as if it is not already intimidatingly hard and ready.

“Jisungie,” you say, already whining, wiping an embarrassing spot of drool as it spills over your bottom lip. Your body is so eager that it thunders out of control, clenching around nothing, and you can’t seem to stop it.

Jisung is so mean, just using his fingertip for a second, circling your fluttering hole. You try kicking him but your ankle manages little more than a flick, your legs trapped in Changbin’s hold.

“Sorry,” Jisung says, giggling and obviously unapologetic. He flicks your pouting bottom lip before finally putting the tip of his dick at your entrance.

The first little bit is always fine. It feels good to be full, your body needing him, pulling him in. He rocks back and forth a little, pushing an inch then another, and that’s when your body realizes how much there is, clenching and stretching and burning as he pushes in.

He goes slow, his whining mouth against your throat. But then Chan sits on the edge of the bed and touches his back. He bottoms out quickly and you squeak, eyes closed and breath coming fast.

You hear Chan say, “Take it off.” Confused, you blink your eyes open. Chan is talking to Jisung, tugging his shirt up his back.

Jisung groans but complies, tugging it over his head with one hand. The few seconds give you a precious moment to adjust, barely enough before he comes back and starts to fuck you with short, rolling thrusts. You think Chan is getting Jisung’s shorts out of the way given the jerky way Jisung moves on top of you, but then you are skin to skin with no obstruction.

“Mmph, yellow – legs,” you say, breaking only briefly to prevent a cramp in your thighs. Changbin is quick to smooth you out, helping reposition you more comfortably.

You sprawl flat on your back as Changbin moves away, wrapping your legs around Jisung’s waist without any hindrance. He holds himself above you, alternatively muttering expletives and cooing sweet nothings at you.

Changbin sits on one side, Chan the other, both fully clothed despite the obvious strain below their waistbands. It reminds you a little of the time Changbin topped Jisung while Chan fucked you, the pair of you kissing and touching between them the entire time.

Today is a little different. You are at the centre of it all, Jisung inside you, Chan’s hand on your chest and Changbin’s fingers circling your mouth. You take those fingers when prompted, sucking dutifully, batting your eyelashes up at him while he softly finger-fucks your mouth.

Chan’s fingers join him, touching your lip. You open your mouth wider and drool messily around the intrusion.

“Fuck,” Chan says. He rips his hand back in sudden needy haste. “Turn over,” he demands, smacking Jisung on the ass.

It makes Jisung yelp but he complies. With some help from Changbin, you roll over until Jisung is on his back and you are on top of him. Changbin kneels upright too, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, tongue penetrating your mouth as Jisung holds your hips and thrusts up into you.

Chan grabs the back of your neck, holding you in place while Changbin kisses you. Chan’s other hand runs down your front, tweaking a nipple and making you mewl into Changbin’s mouth. You are more panting than kissing by the time Chan’s fingers reach your pussy.

Jisung slows down just a little, out of breath and whimpering as you clench around him. This angle makes him feel stupidly deep, your eyes rolling back. He makes a few small, jerky movements, not even a deep thrust, and it still feels like he his hitting your heart.

Chan joins the kiss with Changbin. You are not even sure who is kissing you, just that it is one or the other, back and forth until you are dizzy. You know it is Chan’s fingers between your legs, the unmistakable pattern of his deft, familiar stroke making you spiral towards another orgasm.

“Oh, god, she’s – she’s—” Jisung says, squeezing your hips, going still for a minute to stop himself from coming when you do. He is breathing as hard as you.

You look down at Jisung, holding eye contact while you come hard on Chan’s fingers. Chan and Changbin are each sucking a bruise into either side of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say in a watery voice, thighs shaking, hands on Jisung’s abdomen as you lean forward.

“That’s it,” Chan says, kissing your throat sweetly while Changbin bites you meanly. Both of them swipe their tongue across the mark they leave behind. “Jisung,” Chan says, a demand without further explanation.

“Fuck, I know,” Jisung says, slowly moving his hips again.

It is so quick off your orgasm, it makes aftershocks move through your whole body. You are a livewire, making every ridiculous sound possible as Jisung fucks you, Changbin kisses you, and Chan gets up behind you.

Chan runs his hands down your sides, gently bending you forward until you are chest to chest with Jisung.

“Yup, just like that,” Chan says, rubbing the base of your spine then lower. His hands cup the curve of your ass, squeezing, tilting your hips just so. It gives him a good view of Jisung’s cock moving in and out of you, no doubt obscenely wet and messy, as well as exposing the smaller hole in your ass as he spreads you open.

“Changbin,” Chan says, still with that same confident assurance he will be obeyed no matter what, “Pass me the lube. Bedside drawer.”

As if you were not already sensitive enough, just hearing those words makes everything clench, which makes Jisung fuck you harder, which makes some place inside you that is so unbelievably soft and tender start to ache.

“Ah, that sound,” Changbin says when your moans turn to high-pitched whimpers. He pats the back of your head and reaches for the bedside table.

After a bit of rustling, he tosses the lube at Chan who catches it easily.

“One second,” Changbin says while Chan uncaps it. “She’s gonna come again. Big one, isn’t it, yes?”

The fact he knows before you do is a testament to how closely he watches you, how well he knows you. He is completely right, of course, as Jisung repeatedly pounds into some squishy, vulnerable part of you, so deep and so tender. You are not sure your clit would even respond if someone tried to touch it, but they don’t need to. It is enough that Jisung is hitting that place again and again.

You come with a scream, literally gushing around Jisung as you come. It takes everything in his willpower not to come, nonsensically begging Changbin to help so he doesn’t finish. Changbin just grabs him by the throat, much harder than Jisung grabbed you, making Jisung choke out a strangled gasp immediately. It works, though, as Jisung goes still but stays hard, letting you rock desperately on top of him as your orgasm seems to last ages.

When it finishes, you are completely boneless. You slump onto Jisung who takes a breath when Changbin lets go.

“All right,” Changbin says, smacking your ass. You hear him kiss Chan quickly. “Your turn.”

It is a good thing you feel so willowy; it makes it easy for Chan to open you up on his slick fingers. The few times you have done this, it always took forever, which was fun in its own way, but today it is so easy. He slides a finger right in, then another, hardly any obstruction as your body surrenders so completely to your boyfriends.

“You gonna take it okay, baby?” Jisung asks, his hands on your sides, holding you steady.

You look up at him, nodding, and open your mouth with a whine. He understands, lifting his head, meeting you in a messy, lazy kiss while he rocks slowly inside you. The kiss only breaks when Chan replaces his fingers with his cock, reigniting every spark in your over sensitized body.

“Ugh, god,” Jisung says, barely above a breath as he pants against your mouth. “He’s inside you, baby?”

You don’t answer because he can probably feel it when Chan is fully inside you. It takes a second for them to calibrate, find a rhythm that works. You are not sure if you are more impressed with yourself for taking it so easily this time, or impressed that Jisung has lasted this long and is still coherent enough to keep a steady rhythm.

“Changbin,” you say, his name a moan on your lips. You need to feel him too, his hand on your back not nearly enough.

“Go,” Chan says, groaning, your hips in his hands as he fucks you. “Oh, baby, you’re so good,” he says. “Isn’t our girl so good for us?”

Changbin and Jisung basically just grunt in reply, affirmative but irrevocably distracted.

Changbin kneels near your head, rubbing the back of your neck and gently guiding you to turn your face. Jisung swears when you open your mouth, a bit of spit drooling past his own lips as he watches you take Changbin’s cock past your lips. You mostly just lay there with your mouth open, letting him fuck it rather than really blowing him, but there are no complaints.

Chan squeezes your ass, a gentle knead that just makes you feel more open, stretched to your absolute limits, so full that you do not know how you will ever be happy without them all inside you.

It reinvigorates you. You find strength in your arm and use it to touch Changbin, fist circling where your mouth does not reach. You get him off first but Chan follows quickly, muttering things like you, tight, perfect, baby, baby, baby.

“Oh god,” Jisung says, somehow still holding out. When Chan slips out, it gives Jisung slightly more leverage. He pushes himself upright, letting you slump in his arms and cling to him while he fucks up into you with quick, desperate little uh-uh-uhs.

Finally, he comes, your name melting into a moan as he buries his face in your neck, mouth open where Changbin left his bitemark.

They surround you after that and you hum happily, letting them pass you from one pair of arms to the next. Jisung flops back, running his hands through his hair and catching his breath. Changbin is there with a cloth of some kind – you think it might be Jisung’s shirt, but Jisung is way past caring – and he gives you a quick and gentle wipe-down while kissing your sleepy brow.

“I should buy you sweaters more often,” Changbin says, giggling.

It makes you snort with laughter, blinking up at him with a grin. “Was gonna fuck you anyway, dummy,” you say.

“In that case, I’ll buy you another one right now.”

You giggle when he rubs his nose against yours in a cute little nose-kiss, eyes crinkling with an affectionate smile.

“Mm, c’mere, sleepy,” Chan says, rightfully as you are still mostly slumped in his arms. You manage to string an arm around his neck as he scoops you off the bed and holds you against his chest.

You are still a little dazed from so much sensation. You let your boys take care of you. After some quick inspection and care, you are plunked in a bath with Jisung to clean and decompress while the other two go strip and re-make the bed.

Jisung kisses your face while helping you wash, his careful hands and the hot water soothing every achy limb.

“Totally worth it,” you say, head under his chin, eyes closed and sighing contently.

Changbin comes to help you out. By then, you are bright-eyed, sore but in a way that makes you alive. You feel clean and fresh and loved, bundled up in a robe and then carried off in Changbin’s arms to the living room where food, a comfy couch, and Chan is waiting.

Jisung joins a moment later. The laptop is long since closed and utterly forgotten, the four of you snuggling up in a big blanket. Chan has an arm slung across the back of the couch, your head on his chest, Changbin’s arm around your middle, and Jisung half-asleep where heis slumped against Changbin.

“Round two?” Jisung asks then promptly yawns, making you laugh as Changbin playfully smacks him and Chan just sighs an amused sigh.

Taking the cue from Jisung’s yawn, you close your eyes and snuggle down.

“Love you,” you say, drifting off to each of them saying it back. You know one of them will carry you to bed eventually, so you let yourself drift into sleep, safe and warm, happiest when you are all together, just like this, the four of you always in perfect harmony.

#3racha x reader #3racha smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x you #skz x you #bang chan x you #seo changbin x you #han jisung x you

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trentsgirl · 10 months ago

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— 🤍 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⟡ summary: you play a prank on your husband by asking him to step out of the room so you can change.

⟡ content(s): pure fluff, jude!dad!husband, quite brief, 400 words at most, so not proofread.

⟡ note: just a little scrabble, hope you enjoy. requests are open.

⟡ playing: idk tbh

⟡ masterlist.

FETCHING THE DRESS FROM THE CLOSET, you spun to face jude, who was sprawled out on the bed with little theo perched on his belly, attempting to wrestle with the buttons on his shirt, but failing miserably.

“babe, what do you think of this?” you inquired, showing off the fancy cocktail dress.

jude’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. he knew he’d be a complete idiot to suggest any other dress. even theo chimed in with a “pretty” comment, clearly a fan of the dress too.

“oh yeah, that’s the one,” jude nodded, his smug grin already giving away his stamp of approval.

with a suppressed smile, you playfully nibbled on your lip before requesting, “would you mind leaving so i could get changed?”

jude’s attention was initially occupied by theo, causing him to miss your question. however, as you repeated it, he snapped out of his daze and looked at you with a puzzled expression.

“what? why?” he raised an eyebrow in confusion.

you shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. “no reason, i just prefer not to change in front of you.”

jude’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. had he done something to upset you? did he unknowingly cross a line? after all, you had never shown any hesitation about changing in front of him before. heck, you didn’t even mind walking naked around him .

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he pressed gently, careful not to startle theo with his tone.

once again, you shrugged indifferently. “i don’t know... i just don’t want you watching.”

jude couldn’t help but find this whole situation ridiculous, considering he had seen you naked countless times. nevertheless, if you wanted him to leave, he would comply. but he still wanted to understand why all of a sudden it was an issue for him to watch.

“uh, did i do something wrong?” he asked innocently, giving you those irresistible puppy eyes.

your heart melted, unable to bear witness to his adorable confusion and distress. you sighed, struggling to maintain your composure.

he let out a huff, “come on, love, i witnessed you giving birth. this is nothing compared to that!”

unable to hold it in any longer, you burst into laughter, causing theo to join in with quiet giggles, but still audible enough for both of you.

“i’m just messing with you!” you exclaimed, hint of mockery laced your voice. he responded by rolling his eyes, knowing he should have seen that coming.

“i didn’t expect of you to take it so seriously,” you added, giggling even more, which only annoyed jude further.

clearly, he didn’t appreciate your little prank.

“you’re so mean, you know that?” he retorted, his voice tinged with sarcasm. he glanced down at theo, shaking his head. “your mother is so mean.” he told him, dead serious.

“oh, stop that or he’ll end up believing you,”

“i’m stating nothing but the truth.”

it was your turn to roll your eyes.

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taelophone · 3 months ago

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Co-Parenting⋆.☘︎ ݁˖⋆˙⟡ — BD!Luigi Mangione x Reader ⋆˚｡☘︎⋆ TWs: Porn w Plot . Penetration . Co-parenting (if thats a trigger...) . Semi-toxic themes if u squint . Ambiguous relationships . ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ 7k + words. Im on a fucking roll.

Co-parenting was no easy task– you’ve gathered that from the sleepless nights wrestling a hyperactive two-year-old into bed.

On the days when you only had one set of hands, your daughter seemed to rain down on you like the wrath of a god. A tiny god, but a mighty and merciless one nonetheless.

She ruled and ripped through the white halls, splashing the ghostly white drywall with the many colors of Crayola with her bright and giddy smile not to mention the iron-clad lungs that she seemed to inherit from somewhere in her father's lineage.

But chaos and tribulations aside, you wouldn’t trade her for anything, your beautiful not-so-baby baby girl, Adelina.

She had her father's eyes, void and deep with brown and gold flecks of pale sunlight. She beared his cocoa-colored curls, but your presence illuminated her little nose and the scaffolding of her face. If it was possible to capture two faces at once, she’d be a prime example.

And as you strapped her into her pink and floral-print car seat, she chuckled as you peppered her face in kisses from head to chin.

“Mommy!! Mommy stop! No! You do’d too much! I do it,” Adelina instructed, her little face scrunched up in a full-muscle smile before she leaned over to you, her little nose pecking your cheek with the force of an angel.

“Thank you, Addy! You’re so sweet,” you cooed, your bottom lip jutting out in a heart-warmed pout as she poked at the freckles and acne scars on your face.

You tightened the polyester webbing on her car seat, clicking each buckle and gently pushing her fuzzy pink pom-pom hat back into place. After a glance at the car seat, you shoved your white BMW door closed and trekked around the car to reach the driver's seat.

“You ready to go see daddy, li-li?” you asked, glancing at her reflection in the rear-view mirror before the engine purred to life, the steady flow of heat gradually filling the space between the winter air.

“Yah!” She beamed, throwing her little hands in the air with a girly giggle.

“Alright, let’s go!” You nodded, a triumphant look on your face as you pulled out of the driveway.

The ride to Luigi’s wasn’t long. Unfortunately for you, the angels in heaven decided today would be the perfect day to breathe their frosted breaths down from the heavens, sending snowflakes down from the skies that would stick to the mortal-made machinery for days to come.

Icy slopes of slippery sleet clung to the streets, earning itself a few silent prayers while you navigated through the streets.

Each spark of strength from your tires was met with equal resistance from the frosty roads.

It was clear driving back from Luigi’s would be harder than you thought.

But there was no use in backing out now. After all, you were only ten minutes away from your ex-boyfriend's house. So you proceeded cautiously down the highway, silent prayers falling from your lips until you parked your car in front of the familiar humble abode.

“Alright, sweetie, let’s go see daddy! You got your bag?” You asked, unbuckling yourself to take a deep and self-soothing breath.

“YEAH!” She beamed, her little button nose all wrinkled with excitement as she bore her joy with all her facial muscles.

You chuckled, approaching the back of the car for the second time that day as you unpacked your wriggly toddler. She giggled, her little feet kicking back and forth as you lowered her to the powdery-white ground.

“Be careful, please. We don’t want you to fall!” You gasped, smiling down at your daughter as the white snow crunched under her lilac snow boots.

She giggled, throwing herself down on the snow as you unloaded her bags from the backseat. Her small arms picked up the bright white piles of frosty miracles, cold clouds, as she would call them.

”C’mon, sweetie,” you beckoned, kicking the car door closed with your rubber sole and trekking your way up to Luigi’s front porch after grabbing Adelina’s fur-adorned hand.

A few gentle knocks landed on the heavy oak door, the glossy black paint failing to conceal the beautiful pattern of the tree rings. Jet black with a gorgeous ivory lintel— a little extra for him— but perfect for his cute little family home.

“Mommy, I made a sn-no ball,” Addy said, her little hands showing you the little ball in the palms of her hands.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, sweetie! What are you gonna do with it? You gonna let daddy freeze it?” You asked, hiking the slipping baby bag back up your shoulder.

“No,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I wanna trow it at daddy!”

You chuckled, attempting to mask the sound with a poorly placed cough to discourage her menacing behavior. The little laugh fought back, clawing its way up and out of your throat as you set a hand on Addy’s head.

“Sweetie, that’s…that’s not very nice!” You murmured, taking a deep breath before the front door swung open.

There he stood, leaning forward a little before his legs aligned with his form. When he processed that his door was indeed open, his face shifted into an eager grin as he glanced between you and Adelina, ready to outstretch his arms and greet you both with happy—

Paff!

“Adelina Mangione!”

A big, teethy grin slowly broke out on Addy’s face. One that stretched from the beginnings of her little lips and rose to the crinkles of her eyes. She let loose a maniacal giggle after aiming the freezing snow directly at Luigi’s socks.

Instantly, Luigi’s eyes snapped shut in practiced control. The frosty substance melted into the black cotton, soaking his entire sock and ceasing his foot’s ability to move properly.

“That’s just cruel,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering open as he kneeled to be eye-level with his smug daughter.

“Addy, that wasn’t very nice,” He murmured, his tone deep and stern with the weight of a formal lecture. His voice thumped against your eardrum pleasantly, the bass of his tone reverberating from the depths of his lungs and teasing at your harping heartstrings.

“We don’t throw snow at people when they don’t have their cold clothes on. It can make them sick, and nobody wants to be sick, okay?” He said, holding her little hands between his pointer fingers and thumbs.

She pouted, her brows furrowing slightly as she nodded, giving a little “okay” in response.

“What do we say when we do something not nice?” He asked, tilting his head to the side with a tiny smile.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Thank you, love bug. Now go inside, I don’t want you to get cold,” he chuckled, pinching her nose momentarily to earn a little giggle from the toddler.

No sooner than her mood lightened and her legs carried her inside, Luigi straightened his knees and brought his gaze over to you.

“Hey,” he smiled, immediately taking the bags off of your shoulders, his hands brushing over your shoulder. The contact felt more intimate than you’d like to admit, considering it was the most mundane form of touch you’ve probably ever experienced.

“Hey, Luigi,” you sighed, mirroring his prior gesture of straightening your posture and bringing your right arm to massage your left shoulder.

“How did you get here? It’s been snowing pretty bad…” he murmured, scanning the streets for any sign of footprints before his face immediately dropped upon seeing your car. “No way.”

“What?” You asked, whirling your torso around to face whatever seemed to alarm him.

“Why did you drive here? Actually, HOW did you drive here?” He asked, his brows shooting up in concern.

“I…got in the car and drove?” You murmured, your brows furrowing together like the answer was obvious as your thumb pointed in the direction of your car. Like he couldn’t already see it.

“Okay, first of all,” he began, gently placing a hand behind your back right in between either of your shoulders, and guiding you into his living room. “You could have died.”

“Second of all, it’s in the tens right now, and you’re standing in my house with jeans and a cropped sweater. Pneumonia isn’t merciful and she will take you with her, trust me, I know,” he lectured, glancing back and forth between your daughter and you.

How Adelina was bundled up was almost comical. There was no way she felt the temperature when she stood outside, decked out in her purple coat with white clouds, fuzzy black leggings, lavender boots, and fuzzy little pom-pom hat.

You on the other hand were dressed for a quick coffee run under central heat and warm lighting. Looking back, you thought it would be okay considering you would be in and out in less than thirty minutes.

But now that you stood in front of this man who seemed to have enough energy to discipline and correct anyone before him, you had to admit you felt a little silly.

He opened his mouth before instantly closing it and throwing his hands up weakly before they flapped down at his sides.

“I’ll deal with you later,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way over to Addy to rid her of the many insulated layers you had wrapped her in. He released her from her cozy shoes, her near-sweltering coat, the cute little hat on her head, and the polka dot mittens on her hands before she took off to run rampant in her playroom.

You made use of the presumably short time you had in his living room, leaning against the door with your phone in hand just to check the time.

“Why are you so close to the door? I’m not gonna kill you,” he chuckled, suddenly appearing in front of you with both hands on his hips with an amused smile.

“Oh I thought you wanted me to leave soon—“

“What? No, no no no no. You’re not leaving until the roads clear up a bit. I don’t want you getting hurt or in an accident, c’mon…” he murmured, punctuating his statement by lifting you by your knees and tossing you over his shoulder.

You yelped in shock, your hands immediately clutching at the back of his shirt for any sort of support even if feeble. Luigi chuckled, tossing you on the couch and wrapping you up with a fuzzy white blanket with pretty black snowflakes.

Once he rolled you up like a sushi roll, he crashed down on the couch next to you and stretched, the black cotton fabric of his sweatpants dipping just a tad. What a beautiful sight; his pretty white wifebeater hugging him so gently while he practically flaunted every hard-earned muscle he had.

“How was your day, hmm? Besides the fact that you literally almost died,” he chuckled, his arms draped around the back of the couch carelessly.

“I didn’t almost die,” you dismissed, a light giggle falling from your lips as you shifted on the couch to get comfortable. “And my day’s been pretty good…I was supposed to go home and watch a movie, but I’m here now.”

“You can do that here, though…with me,” he shrugged, tilting his head to the side like this was obvious information.

“Well I wanted to watch a movie in my bed,” you sighed, giving him a feigned eye roll before you slouched back on the couch, kicking your shoes off somewhere in his living room.

“Well you can watch a movie in my bed too,” he added, watching as Addy ran back and forth from the kitchen to her playroom, carrying a new box of snacks with each new trip.

As long as silence wasn’t the only noise that crept from out of that room, he was fine with whatever she did.

“Ew, gross, Luigi germs,” you joked, pretending to lean as far away from Luigi as possible.

He sucked his teeth, shaking his head in faux frustration before he raised a brow at you and poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek. The truth was, he had been wanting you in his bed for a while now, but you didn’t need to know that just yet.

“See now I see where Addy gets it from…your beef with me is literally hereditary” he sighed, shaking his head with a little pout.

“I know, she’s my mini-me,” you chuckled, gently unraveling yourself from your blanket to drape it around your shoulders. “I think I met my match, like, she’s just so much like me when she talks it’s crazy”

“Lina linguine!” He beamed, watching as she toddled into the room at the nickname she had been more than familiar with coming from her father.

“Hmm?” She hummed, her hand cupping the shell of her ears while the free one dragged along a large Snorlax plushie.

“What do you want for lunch, sweetie?” He asked before standing up and taking his usually large strides towards his kitchen, Addy following behind him with little steps of her own.

“Mommy, come on! We makin’ lunch!” She smiled, beckoning you towards her with her little hand.

You immediately got up to your feet, skipping over to your daughter and waltzing into the familiar kitchen with the white marbled counters and gold accent handles. It was clear your feminine touch had left the kitchen, leaving behind the ghost of a reminder in the form of a pink stand mixer with a strawberry shortcake sticker that stood out amongst the black-and-brown decor.

“Daddy, I wan’ noo-noos,” she stated, craning her head up to look at him as she attempted to see over the kitchen counter.

“Noodles? Okay honey, what kind?” He asked, his hip resting against the counter as he looked.

“ba-skeddi,” she murmured, holding onto his pants leg with a full grip. How Italian.

“Alright I’ll make you some spaghetti,” he said, the laugh he was fighting struggling for dominance on his face as Addy toddled back off into her playroom.

No sooner than Addy left the kitchen did Luigi pull out a mini pot and some star-shaped pasta, adding water and salt and letting it boil.

“Now what do you want, my queen,” he joked, putting a hand over his chest and pretending to bow.

“Stop it!” You laughed, whacking him on the shoulder as he straightened back up again with a rugged laugh.

“I’m not really hungry, I’ll just eat when I get home” you shrugged while playing around with your phone, leaning your upper body against the cold marble countertop.

He sighed, rolling his eyes before he walked past you to access the silvery fridge. But, not before he landed a heavy smack on your ass.

“LUIGI!” You gasped, your hand coming to rest on top of the spot he hit.

“See, I was gonna make pasta anyway, so you can have pasta too…how do you feel about Alfredo with broccoli?” He chuckled as he avoided turning around.

He could almost feel and taste the expression you wore; your jaw slack with shock and your pretty brows furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and scandalization. His tongue came between his teeth and peeked out from his smile, a flash of the teenage boy you once fell head-over-heels for in high school.

“Luigi, don’t play with me, what was that?” You laughed, leaning against the counter now instead of on top of it.

“You said you want Alfredo? I got you, don’t worry,” he dismissed, pulling out heavy cream parmesan cheese, fettuccine noodles, broccolini, and an abundance of alternate ingredients that he would end up throwing in a pot or pan sooner or later.

“Luigi!”

“Yes, baby?”

You stared at him, your arms folded and your head tilted to the side In feigned indifference. He mirrored your body language, throwing his hip out to the side and folding his arms across his broad chest before cocking his head to the side as well.

“Don’t get beside yourself, we’re co-parenting,” you enunciated, shaking your head in disbelief.

There was no real bite to your tone…Luigi could tell. The cold and frost to your tone melted the moment he pulled you through his door to shield you from the winter woes of the rocky roads and the icy exhalation from the angels.

Even as you stood in front of him in his kitchen, he knew exactly what that eyebrow meant when it raised at that exact angle. He’s corrected your attitude many times before and was more than willing to do it again if you’d let him.

He smirked, a smug and knowing grin spreading across his face as he reached around you to slide a cutting board over the smooth surface. His hands were heavy as he focused his attention on dicing up the garlic beneath his knuckles and knife.

“Don’t lie to yourself, it’s not good for you” he said, sliding his minced garlic to the side and dicing up his parsley and herbs. The hollow chok-chok-chok filled the momentary silence between the two of you as you watched his hands make easy work of cutting up his veggies.

“Ah, fuck…can you grab the butter from the fridge, please? I love you,” Luigi asked, looking over his shoulder.

You side-eyed him, cutting your eyes at his audacity but waltzing over to the fridge and swinging it open nonetheless, passing him the fat stick of pale yellow butter with a low hum.

“Thank you!” He beamed, brushing his hand against yours.

Again, the warmth of his body heat sent sparks and shivers shooting down your spine despite the casual nature of his presence. Touch-starved was a bit of an understatement, considering the last time you had had any intimacy was over two years ago, plus the nine that you carried your daughter.

Almost three years of celibacy and every bone in your body yearned to break that god-awful streak. You took a deep breath, the oxygen flowing in through your nostrils and exiting your dry mouth as carbon.

You leaned on his shoulder, the fat of your cheeks mashing against the firm structure of the top of his deltoid muscle as your half-glazed eyes mulled over every action his hands made.

You had always loved them. Decorated with three bluish-green veins that led down his wrist, soft with years of baby lotion he learned to slather on an ashy baby, and strong with experience in several forms of combat, his hands had always been the prettiest perfect necklace to wrap around the column of your throat.

The breakup between you wasn’t particularly terrible if you were willing to stand in his kitchen and lean your head on his shoulder, but it wasn’t civil enough for you to let him grope at and flirt with you without at least somewhat of a consequence. It was pretty funny considering you couldn’t yell due to the baby being asleep just one room over, so you had a very quiet argument over time management and Luigi not making enough time for his family.

But those days were behind you. After you walked out the door with your daughter wrapped up in her swaddle, something in Luigi’s brain shifted. He couldn’t explain it if he tried, but suddenly he felt like he didn’t want to work anymore.

If it took getting on both knees and placing his palms flat on the ground— he would. If all it took was begging on hands and knees for you to grant him forgiveness, he would do it with an empty mind and a full heart.

He placed a large chunk of butter in a black skillet, along with his garlic and some of the herbs from earlier. He didn’t want to move around too much out of fear you’d come to your senses and stop leaning on his shoulder.

“Who taught you how to make Alfredo?” You asked, the pad of your pointer finger moving with its consciousness as it came to trace the squishy trail of the veins in his hand.

“My mom used to teach me but I wasn’t really paying attention. So now TikTok,” he smiled, looking down at you with his beady black eyes.

“See I could’ve taught you that,” you sighed, shaking your head with false resignation.

“Shush,” he joked, wrapping a hand around your hip before he leaned over to grab the now boiling mini-pot of water, filling it up with the star-shaped pasta. Now that you had a closer look at the bag, it turned out that the contents were star and moon-shaped pasta.

He poured the dried planets into the foggy, bubbling waters, stirring everything momentarily before putting it back on the stove. Once his garlic was sautéed and the kitchen smelled like domesticity, he added what he felt was enough heavy cream, followed by a nice portion of parmesan.

He stirred everything together with his wooden spatula before adding the sparks of chopped greenery along with salt and black pepper. A simple Alfredo sauce that he’d mix in with some fettuccine that he would inevitably devour with sharp teeth and a pointed tongue that’d glide across his porcelain plate.

The thought was enough to make you shudder. Time and mind seemed to taunt your thoughts, burning hot kisses from Eros trailing down the ridges of your brain down to the core of your soul.

You spent the evening watching him cook in the kitchen, occasional pink and passionate passes passing back and forth between the pair of you. Rogue “I love you’s” flew through the room like dainty doves that had been freed from the golden bars of their cages.

Luigi had since given Adelina her noodles, buttered with salt and parsley, the only way she would consume her pasta of astrology. By now the sky was a dull navy, the final straggling streaks of deep mauve kissing their goodbyes to the sky as they got ready to turn in for the night.

Seven-thirty in the evening, gathered at a cute little dining table with your ex-boyfriend and his near-identical twin. Addy babbled and gabbled about the little tea party she had with her “coworkers”, her stuffed animals, and Pokemon figures, and explained how Luigi missed a very important meeting and that she had fired him for doing so.

He gasped, his fork cluttering down on his plate as he covered his hands with his mouth.

“Addy! Addy no, I’ll go broke and then I’ll starve! Don’t be a capitalist, Lina, I have a family too!” He gasped, pretending to cry as he carded his hands through his hair.

“I have a beautiful wife and a baby girl!” He sobbed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders unexpectedly. You dropped your fork on the table as well, the sudden action causing an amused yelp to flee from your lips.

“Ms. Mangione, please! We won’t eat if you fire him!” You sobbed, placing a hand over one of Luigi’s biceps.

“Nnnnno!” She giggled, her little face glowing with joy from her parents playing along with her bossy little antics. “Fire! No more Daddy!”

Luigi made a show of pretending to fall out of his chair, writhing around on the floor while clutching his stomach and feigning hunger. You had to admit, his theatrics managed to tickle your lungs until you ended up giggling alongside Addy as he “died” on his dining room floor with a final weak sigh.

“That’s why you don’t trust CEO’s, Lina. They’ll make you starve and die,” he explained, pulling himself back up to his feet. “And now, it’s time for you— to go to sleep!”

She groaned, surprisingly loud and incredibly drawn out as Luigi finished the rest of his food, his tongue gliding across the white porcelain before it clattered back down on the table. To avoid getting a headache between your legs, you peered out the window to see if the weather had gotten any better.

Much to your surprise, it was snowing again. Amazing.

“I wan’say nigh-nigh mommy…” Addy pouted, her upper lip mere centimeters away from kissing the top of her nose as her arms crossed over her chest.

“You can still say goodnight to mommy! She’s right there, look,” he smiled, pointing at you briefly as he scooped her up out of her high chair.

She waved at you as she rubbed her left eye, a little “g’nigh, mommy…”

“Goodnight, my love. If you go to sleep now, Daddy will take you to the playground tomorrow and then you can play all day,” you smiled, pinching her little chubby cheeks between your pointer and thumb.

She nodded, the little furrow in her thick brows straightening only slightly. You could hear her fuss and fight as Luigi made his way upstairs to put her in bed.

You finished your food after the pair of them had gone upstairs, grabbing the remaining dishes from the table and putting them in the sink. You doused them with hot water, the steam wafting from the scalding water standing unrivaled from the fog that clouded your head.

Such a pretty man with an even prettier way of articulating his words. There was no room for confusion or misunderstanding with his firm and deepened tone…god his voice was hot when he used to talk you thr—

“Oh thank you, baby, you didn’t have to do that,” Luigi said, his hands resting on the kitchen counter on opposite sides of your body.

Behind you, and close. You could feel the bass of his voice strumming from the back of his throat as his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“You’re welcome!” You smiled, placing your hand over Luigi’s as his hand found your hip in a self-soothing hold. The hot water cleaned the dishes and silverware free of any remaining food and debris, ridding it of sin before you tossed each component into the dishwasher to be properly sanitized.

There was silence after you closed the dishwasher door, heavy and thick as Luigi’s arms wrapped around your shoulders while you fidgeted with the unfamiliar buttons on the dash.

“It’s this one,” he purred, his thumb pressing the plastic button that prompted the dishwasher to click and lock.

Now it was your turn to be thankful. You craned your head up, meeting Luigi’s small smile that features the crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

“Thank you, Luigi,” you mused, your hands coming to rest on his forearms that wrapped around your neckline.

He nodded, his eyes hyper-fixating on your pretty features like this would be the only time he’d get to see them up close. Somehow and some way, something at the back of his mind told him this wasn’t the case anymore.

“Movie?” You offered a short question aiming to cut through the oddly intimate silence between the two of you.

“Sure,” he nods, his arms unraveling from around your neck before they scoop you up by the back of your knees and flip you back into his arms. Bridal style, just like how he planned to carry you someday.

He waltzed over to the couch, pretending to prepare his throw you down onto the scratchy linen before hitting the most abrupt turn you’ve ever seen him make in his life, heading in the direction of the stairs with a giggle.

“On second thought, I wanna watch TV in my room,” he smirked, carrying you up the flight of stairs to his characteristically minimalist bedroom.

“See now you’re just getting beside yourself…” you sighed, but letting him toss you on his bed nonetheless.

“I won’t, I swear…” he sighed, tossing you down on his bed before fetching his remote from the bedside table.

“What did you say you wanted to watch earlier? Did you say what you wanted to watch earlier?” He asked, rolling onto his king-sized bed.

The ivory sheets dipped under his body weight, the memory foam accommodating your memory once again on your side of the bed as you shuffled into familiarity.

“I don’t know, actually, what do you wanna watch?” You asked, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your sweater absentmindedly.

“Uh…” He buffered, his mind completely blank for a moment.

“Oh, right,” you chuckled, tapping your forehead. “You don’t really watch TV like that, I forgot.”

He nodded, staring at your outdoor clothes on his bed with a confused crinkle in his brows. He tilted his head to the side, scanning you up and down like he was almost offended by you still wearing your sweltering jeans and cashmere sweater.

“I have some clothes in my closet if you want to change…you know where everything is already, I think,” he said, powering on his TV with a click of the silicone red button on the remote.

“Actually yeah, sleeping in jeans sounds crazy…” you nodded, rolling out of his cozy comforter and making your way to his closet.

You rummaged through each cotton or nylon article of clothing, the occasional linen or silk brushing your fingertips until you weeded through to find a baggy shirt and a pair of your old shorts that you found in the depths of his drawer. Black with a pretty white drawstring, and slightly ripped at the left leg from Luigi’s habit of impatience.

You slipped away to the bathroom, tugging off your top and bottoms with a silent sigh of satisfaction as you slipped into the soft material of Luigi’s shirt and the comfort of a waistband that wasn’t digging into your midriff.

His bathroom was the same as you remember it being, with the addition of a little pink toothbrush he kept for Addy next to his big blue one. Contrary to his kitchen, there was a presence of a feminine life that decorated the bathtub in the form of Disney Princess bubbles, a plastic tiara, and an Aurora Barbie doll. Cute.

You emerged with your clothes folded over your arm, placing your outfit down on his sleek black dresser and smoothing the fabric over before climbing back in bed beside Luigi. He threw a lazy arm over your shoulder as your leg came up over his, tangling your limbs together like life hit the resume button from where you had left off two years ago.

“I think we should watch Finding Nemo…” He chuckled, immediately booting up Disney Plus without missing a beat.

“Luigi, we're twenty-five.” You deadpanned.

“So?” He chuckled, flipping through the options before ultimately hitting the back button.

“American psycho?” He offered, looking over at you with a tiny smile.

“Absolutely not. How about Coraline?” You smiled.

“We’re twenty-five!” He whined, mocking your tone by putting on a high and effeminate voice with a scrunched-up expression.

“Fine,” you sighed, pressing a hand over his mouth with feigned annoyance. “Midsommar?”

“Never heard of it…” he hummed, typing in the movie name as ‘Midsummer’ and jumping subtly when he heard you gasp like the wind had been knocked out of you.

“You’ve never seen midsommar!?” You asked, your hands resting on his broad chest in shock.

“I don’t really watch movies like that…” he chuckled, the intro to Midsommar filling the room as he turned the volume down a bit to be mindful of Adelina’s room just two doors down.

“Right,” you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his bicep with a light chuckle.

You watched most of the movie in comfortable silence, his large hand shifting down to hold the back of your thigh as it rested between his knees, the cap nestled just at his belly button underneath his white tank. The rise and fall of your chest spurred something deep within him, especially with your concealed silhouette just beyond his grasp as you wore his shirt that seemed to swallow you whole.

The fiery heat from your body should be comforting, but all he could feel was a nuisance every time a wave of red-hot body temperature ran over him and sent flashes of heat down to his slowly hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh began to slowly caress your skin, his rough feather-light and teasing as he kept his eyes glued to the screen.

You weren’t stupid— after dating Luigi for years, you knew he knew how to push your buttons and just what to do to elicit a certain response. There was no mistaking the embers and sparks from his palm as his hand rubbed your sensitive skin.

So you let it happen, allowing his hand to gradually get higher and higher until he reached the edge of your shorts, his knuckles brushing the edge of the cotton fabric.

“I know what you’re doing, Luigi,” you whispered, keeping your eyes trained in front of you as you attempted to keep your attention on the movie.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…” he murmured, his hand snaking down your shorts to play with your sensitive clit through the fabric of your panties.

Normally he wouldn’t be this forward or bold…he’s seen you for two years straight after the breakup, and he’s been just as aroused by your presence before. But seeing you in his clothes and his bed ripped a fresh coat of red ravenous arousal from his brain.

Hungry and heated like a wolf preying on the willingness of a meek little bunny to stay put. How much time until you start squirming away for freedom? Would you push his hand away weakly and complain about the status quo— or are you aware of the hunter behind you and are content with the fate that you’ll meet in his sheets?

You whined at his fingers toying with your sensitive pearl, a wave of wetness beginning to soak the fabric of your panties as the already thin material became damp and cold as it stuck to your plush lips. Your leg shifted off of his lap, a weak and half-hearted attempt to clamp your thighs together in a last-ditch effort to quell the whines and moans that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, don’t do that,” Luigi huffed, pulling you into his lap and hooking one of your legs over his. “Don’t start being a brat now, take these off.”

You moaned, letting him pull your shorts off of you and wrapping a hand around his forearm before he threw them somewhere around the room where you knew you’d discover them again in two years.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his large hand stopping just below your navel to rub gentle circles over the soft skin.

“Yeah, it’s fine, just keep going please…” you panted, the buzzing of the RGB TV fading to the back of your mind as your consciousness focused on the slow pace at which Luigi’s fingers pushed themselves into your glossy and slippery cunt.

There was a natural resistance that came with almost two years of celibacy, but you’d be lying if you said your body wasn’t also sucking in the familiarity of your ex-boyfriend at the same time. The stretch was distantly familiar, like a warm face you’d make a frantic attempt to replicate inside a dream in hopes of seeing them again.

Foggy with lust and hot with desperation, his free hand came up to your face, squeezing your cheeks together between his prime four and thumb until the skeleton of your teeth began to resist his advancement. “Watch your movie…you wanted to see it so bad,” he purred.

He kept your eyes trained on the large flatscreen all the while his fingers pumped in and out of you at a steadily increasing pace. The sounds were sinful; gross and sloppy sloshing noises added their own soundtrack to Luigi’s bedroom as your whines and moans grew louder in volume.

Each time his fingers pulled out of you they appeared glossier— like a lip gloss fanatic caking her lips in the glittery and distantly white oils in a glamorous frenzy. The shinier Luigi’s middle and ring fingers got, the closer he watched the scene below as you wet him down to the knuckle.

“You gotta be quiet…you’ll wake the baby,” he chuckled, the hand that kept your eyes on the screen traveling to fold over your mouth.

You nodded, moans clawing their way up your throat and fleeing from the fleshy gateway into the captivity of Luigi’s hand. At this point his hand began bullying that spongy spot inside of you, the pads of his fingers confronting your orgasm head-on as he worked his hands into an almost painful wrist cramp.

Your body stilled as you cried into his palm, tears of long-forgotten ecstasy brimming in your eyes as he shoved you into an orgasm. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him, coating his fingers in a pretty pearly white as he smirked at the muffled string of curses that charged from your mouth.

“There you go…good girl,” he purred, continuing his relentless assault on your cunt with his fingers. “You can give me one more…It’s been too long, I need to feel you” he purred as the near-painful bite of overstimulation gnawed at your flesh.

“It’s okay,” he hummed, watching as your legs shook and threatened to kick from the speed at which his fingers thrust in and out of you. “You can take it.”

His thumb drew tight and gentle circles over your clit, his hand moving over your stomach to hold you in place as your back arched away from his broad chest. Your heartbeat throbbed in your ears as the white blinding veil of euphoria rendered you blind, and keeping yourself quiet was becoming more and more of a struggle.

The screen had long since lost your attention, your tear-filled eyes now focusing on your achy and abused cunt drowning in the euphoria his fingers gave you. It borderlined on being too much— your mind felt like a thousand butterflies swarmed your senses and blocked the receptors in your brain that made you form a sentence.

“Move your hand,” he whispered.

You hadn’t even realized it, but your limp and shaky hand had grabbed at his wrist in a feeble effort to save yourself from his restless hyper-fixating on your pleasure.

“I ca—…can’t ta-ha-ake it..!” You whined, fighting against the strength of a man gone ravenous— feeding off of your moans like sweet nectar from a fresh honeysuckle.

“Oh, well then I’ll make you take something bigger,” he snarled, pulling you up further on his lap so he could pull his sweatpants and grey Calvin Klein boxers down.

His grapefruit pink tip sprung free, the beaded dribbles of salty precum a sinful testimony to how worked up he had been for the past twenty minutes.

“I’m sorry,” he purred into your neck, kissing up and down your jugular, slowly sinking you onto his girthy length with a hypocritically loud grunt of his own.

Your broken moans charged out in the form of barely concealed cries and whines, whispers of profanities ghosting your tongue as they greeted the world with every breath you took. You forgot how massive he was, the bulge that taunted your womb twitching and spasming between your walls with searing anger.

“I’m gonna give you another baby if you keep squeezing me like this…god—“ he rasped, gripping your flesh with a hold that would leave ripe bruises in his wake by morning.

“Please…!” You squealed, holding onto his forearm as he brought your hips up and down on his fat dick.

You weren’t even sure of what you were asking for at this point, much too focused on the feeling of his pretty shaft making your body go numb and tingly with pleasure. The squelches and quiet whimpers from both you and Luigi bounced off of the walls, filling the crazed man’s head with impurities and temptations that only led to him panting harder in your ear.

Both of his arms wrapped securely around your navel, his treatment of you akin to that of a man’s reckless pursuit of some Amazon silicone doll that he unearthed to relieve the tension in his mind every few hours. His fingers pressed into the opposite sides of your hips, forcing you down with such intensity that you were surprised he wasn’t breaking your bones.

He was everywhere; your ear, your neck, your midriff, your cervix, and your mind as his pants and whines grew gruff and heavy. There was minimal chatter, after all, have you ever heard a beast talk to another while desperately rutting into them?

Your eyes inevitably crossed together before they traveled to the back of your skull. Drool fell from your slightly parted mouth, dribbling down your chin and traveling to the black fabric of Luigi’s oversized shirt.

He quite literally fucked you dumb— if anyone were to call and ask you a question, all that would break free was whiny gargles and choked-up sounds, and if they were lucky maybe a syllable.

You wanted to warn him that you were close, but he could already tell from how your gummy and warm walls began to spasm and flutter around him. Following this immediate realization, his left arm untangled itself from around your waist and found purchase on your throat to squeeze its column.

It was shortly after his little air-restricting stunt that you found yourself tensing up again, seizing and shivering as Luigi’s hand clasped over your mouth to silence the loud and teary moan that he knew you would release in that moment. If you were in your right mind you never would’ve been that loud, so you gave props to Luigi for catching your mistake.

Now it was Luigi’s turn to lock up, a deep and guttural moan fleeing from his throat that was a lot less loud compared to what you would have unleashed. He painted your insides white, thick, and hot ropes of ghostly white release that he prayed deep down would pollinate the depths of your womb.

“Fuck,” he panted, rubbing his hands over your hips to soothe the bruises he’d gifted you with. “I love you, you’re so fucking pretty…”

You hummed, the sound high and drawn out as he kept himself nestled deep in your guts. He didn’t exactly expect you to respond after snatching your right mind right out of your brain, so all he did was let out a deep chuckle.

“Goodnight, babe.��

#luigi mangione thoughts #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione fluff

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itwasthereaminuteago · 5 months ago

Text

|| The Pantyeater Proxy ||

Frank castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: fluff, smut, Max!

💜 Reblogs and comments mean the world, thank you for reading! 💜

"What you got Max, buddy? What is that?"

By the time Frank wrestles the thing from his slobbering jaws, it's too late.

"Aw shit." He's holding up the black shreds that once were one of your favourite sets of lingerie.

"Goddamn it. You tryin' to get us thrown out?"

Max grumbles, looking up guiltily from his place on the floor.

"Ain't no use sayin' sorry now, think we gotta go shoppin' boy."

He only had a few hours until you came back from work. Frank manages to decipher the brand from the small and partly-chewed label, maybe he can pick up a like-for-like replacement and you'll be none the wiser. More importantly, him and Max will avoid being in your bad books.

Frank is, admittedly, a little out of his element. You usually bought this kinda thing yourself, and Christ knows where you'd originally gotten it from. Things had started out okay, he'd gone to the nearest shop on Google, one with really good reviews, but now he was standing amongst mannequins and reams of hanging silk and lace bras, panties, teddies, slips, and anything else he could've imagined, completely lost. He couldn't even see the brand of the thing Max ate.

"Can I help, sir?"

Frank turns around to see a young woman about half his size, her face bearing what he recognises as a well used sympathetic expression for use on lost boyfriends and husbands.

He clears his throat. "Uh, yes ma'am. Any chance you carry this brand?"

She examines the torn label and then slowly starts to shake her head. "I'm sorry sir, we don't. I think it's actually discontinued. Were you looking for something specific?"

"Shit- excuse me ma'am, sorry, it's just my dog he uh... took a liking to my lady's things and made em into a chew toy. Kinda lookin' for a replacement or me and the dog might be sharing a kennel."

"Ah, yes." She smiles politely. "Could you give me an idea of what they were like and I could maybe find something similar?"

Frank scratches at the shorter hairs at the back of his head. "Uhh..."

She examines the frayed edge on the label. "Well we can start with black, right? Sooo lace, satin, silk, a combination? Wired or unwired bra? Full coverage, push-up, plunge, balconette, or maybe something a little more revealing? And how about the panty; brief, short, Brazilian, bikini, thong... crotchless? Do you know what styles she might like?"

Frank's head spins. "Shit, all I know is that she looked killer in them. You think you could gimme a quick crash course in all this, I can try tell you what she likes, definitely what she don't like- maybe find somethin' that won't get me my head ripped off?"

The shop assistant laughs. "Of course."

Frank returns to the apartment feeling more than a little apprehensive. He puts the fancy bag on the middle of the bed with a stern instruction for Max to leave well alone.

By the time you arrive home, he's almost forgotten about the incident, having been distracted with a phonecall from David asking if you guys were free for dinner this Saturday.

"-alright, yeah yeah 'course I'll bring some wine you dope. See ya then." He hangs up as he's walking over to give you a kiss.

"Hey sweetie, how was work?"

"Urgh, just the usual. Who was that?"

"Liebermann asking us to dinner tomorrow. Said yeah, we ain't got nothing else on right?" He helps you with your coat and you kick off your shoes and dump your bag on the couch.

"No that'll be really nice to see them. Okay I'm just gonna jump in the shower, then I'm all yours." You call as you're already walking into the bedroom to undress.

There's a beat, and then-

"Frank...? What's this?" You appear back at the doorway, the the bag dangling from the string handle on your hooked finger.

He sheepishly joins you in the bedroom. "An apology, from Max and me. Mainly Max as I ain't the one that ate your underwear." Frank looks over his shoulder at the dog curled up on the living room couch like he's denying all knowledge.

You snort. "Wait- what?!"

"M'sorry baby, I didn't catch him in time. Was hopin' it's a decent replacement, but if it ain't we can change it. You know I'm crap at this stuff."

You take out the tissue paper package from the bag, sitting on the bed and unwrapping it carefully on your lap. Whatever it is it's black. That's good, not that you were expecting some neon monstrosity from Frank, he was definitely one for the classic look when it came to the bedroom, but then again he'd say he thought you were smoking hot in a tatty old sweater and odd socks.

"You pick this?"

"Well I had some help from the shop (he left a big tip). But yeah. You like it?"

You run your fingers over the soft lacy cup of the wireless bralet, holding it up to look at it more closely. It was the right size anyway, one thing Frank was definitely good at was recon and attention to detail, that is if he didn't already have your bra size and other measurements ingrained in his brain. There were panties to match, not cut too high, again, silky soft, lacy and very sexy.

"I think I'm gonna have to try them on before I make up my mind on whether to forgive Max or not..."

A muscle in Frank's jaw twitches at the challenging look in your eyes as you take the contents of the bag into the ensuite with you, closing the door.

Frank is sat on the bed as you change, patiently waiting, almost biting his nails until you slowly emerge from the bathroom, one mouthwateringly delicious step at a time. You stop and pose, shifting your weight from hip to hip, pouting and biting your bottom lip at him.

"Hmm, what do you think? You wanna eat these panties, Frank?"

You're a fucking goddess. You were aways a goddess but holy crap, you wearing something he picked out and standing in front of him looking at him like that?

You smile a little wickedly as you climb on to him, and as you straddle his lap his hands are already all over your skin, brushing over the pretty straps and seams of your new undergarments.

"Sweetheart, baby, darlin', I wanna eat you."

You grab his face gently, "I was actually thinking that maybe we should save all this for tomorrow night, I'll wear these when we go to David and Sarah's for dinner. What do you reckon? Think you can keep your hands off me till tomorrow night when we get home?"

Frank has to grip his own thighs to stop himself from tackling you to the mattress right now. If this was his punishment it was gonna be unbearable.

"Yeah, okay, whatever you want." He husks, eyes darker than pools of ink.

You boop the end of his crooked nose with your finger before extricating yourself from over his tented sweatpants. "Good boy."

Frank groans as you leave him high and dry and disappear back into the bathroom to shower, wishing he could join you.

It wasn't easy tearing yourself away like that, you wanted him to ravish you as much as he did you. But still, he seemed keen to work for your forgiveness and he was only going to get that through some pretty hard repentance. And besides, you knew how fiery hot the sex was if the two of you had to wait for it.

Saturday night was only the next day and yet it felt like an eternity to Frank after not being able touch you. As he took in your pretty standard jeans and sweater combo his mouth was almost watering as he knew fine well what was hidden underneath. It didn't even matter that you were wearing sexy lingerie or not he just wanted you.

"Frank! Would you pass the fricken potatoes, please?!" David's apparently third request for potatoes shakes him out of his stupor.

"Earth to spaceman Frank, the hell is up with you?" He clicks his fingers either side of his head.

"Huh? Nothin', here." Frank grumbles as he finally sends more carbs David's way.

He's like this all night, and all you can do is try to hide your laughter behind a mouthful of food. Frank's been watching you like a hungry dog the whole time and you're living for it. Sarah knows something's going on but she doesn't ask for details.

"Let's just say he's being denied his treats for a little while." You explained to her with a wink in the kitchen later.

Sarah laughs as she tops up your wine glass. "Oh my god, they get so damn grouchy don't they?"

"And desperate," you add, and she hums knowingly as if she's recalling a specific incident, nodding emphatically.

"Hm, guess we better call it a night. I don't wanna make him suffer too much I guess."

"Oh you're far kinder than me!"

When you make a move to leave, Frank wastes absolutely no time grabbing his jacket and keys.

"Thanks for having us over you guys." You tell the couple, waving.

"No problem," David says, then gestures at Frank. "But hey, look after this big goon will you? His head doesn't seem like it's screwed on right."

"Yeah yeah whatever. G'night." Frank grabs your hand and pulls you towards the truck like the house is on fire as you giggle after him.

"Bye guys!"

When he pulls up at home you've barely shut the truck door before Frank's picking you up and marching to the front door. As soon as he's managed to unlock and slam it behind him he's got you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he attacks your mouth with his. You gasp as he squeezes your ass through your jeans, mouth traveling down the side of your neck as his hips press against yours letting you feel just how hard you've got him. You claw and shove at his jacket, urging him to take it off and you quickly remove your own and kick off your boots as he shrugs it onto the floor and does the same. He picks you back up again, carrying you straight through to the bedroom. Max raises his head briefly and then grunts as he goes back to sleep.

Once you land on the bed Frank is all over you, big hands caressing your body through your sweater which he yanks up over your head but doesn't remove completely, leaving your arms trapped before his mouth is back on your skin worshipping absolutely every inch of you, his lips and tongue trailing over the lace that contains your breasts.

"Frank- fuck!" You buck your hips up against his.

"Mm you want this now?" He growls and lets you free. You tug at his flannel and he's barely pulled it off before your hands are slipping up under his black shirt and feeling over his stomach and pecs, mapping your territory.

"God, you know how hard it was not to fuck you over that goddamn dining table?"

You tug and pull his belt free from the buckle, yanking down the zipper and slipping your hand in to stroke him firmly through his black boxer briefs. You bite down on your bottom lip, it's like a steel rod. "Was it this hard? Huh?"

"Fuck, baby- you know it." He hisses as you work him through the soft fabric, leaning down and kissing you so hungrily you're soaking though those pretty panties he bought you. It's as if he can sense it, unbuttoning your jeans and thrusting his hand down in front without bothering to take them off. His fingers are firm and focused, tracing the line of your folds where the silk is damp and sticking to your core from your arousal.

"God damn sweetheart..."

You moan as he strokes and cups your pussy, ruining your panties with how turned on you are. You move your hips against his hand, enjoying the delicious friction as you keep rubbing and squeezing his rock hard erection until neither of you can wait any longer. It's you that breaks first, pushing him away while you shimmy out of your jeans in record time. He does the same until he kneeling naked in front of you. You're still wearing the underwear that started all this and you intend to keep wearing it as you crawl forward, push him to lay back on the bed and mount him. He watches you transfixed as you spread your knees wide, simply pulling your panties to one side and sliding slowly down to take his cock inside, inch by fucking beautiful inch. You moan together as he bottoms out, feeling the completeness as he throbs and you squeeze. His hands skate up your back and you start to rock your hips back and forth, the feeling of him dragging against this deepest part of you like nothing else.

"God, you're so fucking incredible." He tells you, those dark brown eyes darting everywhere trying to take in all of you at once.

"So are you. Feels so good Frank-"

Your breath soon changes to short pants as you bounce yourself up and down on his dick, and he holds on to your hips, thrusting his own upwards to meet you, your gorgeous tits looking like they're about to jiggle right out of that little lacy bralet.

"Oh fuck, that's it baby, so good.." He looks down to watch his cock disappear in and out of you, getting covered with more of your cream each time. Your fingers dig into his chest as you hold on, throwing your head back as he palms and caresses one of your breasts, earning a wanton moan from you when he rubs and pinches your hard nipple between his fingers.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist and guide him to where you need him.

"Alright sweetheart, I got you." His breath is coming harder as he watches you intensely, seeing the pleasure twist your features into a picture of ecstacy when he slips his hand between the damp lace and your skin and circles his fingers right on your clit. You fall forward against him and he's got you, one hand between your hot bodies and the other holding your jaw, his thumb over the front of your throat as he keeps fucking up into you hard.

It's been a struggle not to lose his mind already before this point, you're just magic, absolute witchcraft to him. The way you had him begging for your touch, the way you look no matter if you're wearing sexy clothes or not, the way you fucking feel riding his cock. He's gonna see stars soon, he knows it.

Luckily you're on the same page, your moans getting louder and higher, the way you still your body, feeling him pounding into you...

"F-frank I'm-" you gasp as he doubles down, hips pistoning as he rubs your slick throbbing clit so fast you'd swear he was using a toy.

"Come on princess, let me feel it." Frank's strained plea drives you over the edge, undulating your hips with his again as the feeling bubbles up and bursts out from your center and through the rest of your body. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you so passionately, tongue twisting and lapping against yours. He groans long and deep as your tremors bring on his own sweet release, holding on to you tightly, burying himself into you in a last few powerful thrusts.

The two of you lie wrapped in each other for a while, just breathing, until Max pads into the room and starts licking Frank's foot.

"Here's trouble." He announces as he lets his head thunk back on the mattress while you gingerly sit up and raise yourself off him.

"I forgive him." You say smiling at Max as he wags his tail seemingly in understanding.

"You know they say don't blame the dog, blame the owner? Will you forgive me?" Frank looks up at you with the saddest puppy eyes you've ever seen.

"After that? And this?" You say, gesturing to what you're wearing. "Yeah, I think you get a pass too."

You grab his hand and help pull him up. "C'mon baby, let's shower and then take Pantyeater for a walk."

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle smut #bernthirst tv tribute

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ducksido · 19 days ago

Text

Aussie! Yuu

General Reactions

Grim:

“What do ya mean ya wrestled a kangaroo once?! What kinda wild place did ya come from?!”

Absolutely horrified when Yuu casually picks up a spider and yeets it outside like it’s nothing.

The NRC Student Body:

Confused but entertained by Yuu’s constant use of Aussie slang.

“Oi, mate, pass me that potion.” Mate? Are we friends now?

Slowly start copying Yuu’s lingo without realizing it. Azul starts saying "no worries" and doesn’t know why.

Crowley:

Keeps trying to get Yuu to "tame" magical creatures because he assumes all Australians are Steve Irwin.

Yuu: “I ain’t wrangling a fucking chimera, mate.”

Crowley: disappointed bird noises

Individual Reactions

Riddle:

Appalled at how informal Yuu is. "You called me what?! A 'legend'?! I—w-well, I suppose that’s acceptable..."

Dies inside when Yuu calls Trey "Trey-o" and Cater "Caito".

Absolutely loses it when Yuu casually drinks boiling hot tea without flinching.

Leona:

“So you’re from a place where the sun tries to kill you?”

“...Respect.”

Starts calling Yuu “Roo” just to mess with them.

Intrigued when Yuu tells him that Australians just don’t show fear when faced with dangerous animals because it makes them more aggressive.

Azul:

Horrified when Yuu tells him about box Steve Irwin and the dangerous sea creatures

“And you swim with these?!”

Yuu: “Yeah, nah, you just don’t step on ‘em.”

Azul, who has spent his whole life in the ocean: distressed octopus noises

Floyd & Jade:

Floyd thinks Yuu is the funniest thing he’s ever met. "A shrimp that fights back?! Hahaha!"

Jade is actually really interested in Yuu’s survival skills. "You regularly handle venomous snakes?"

Yuu: "Yeah, ya just grab ‘em behind the head like this—"

Everyone: SCREAMING

Kalim:

Loves the slang. Thinks "G'day" is the greatest greeting of all time.

“What’s a sausage sizzle? That sounds amazing!”

Will absolutely try Vegemite and pretend to like it even if it nearly kills him.

Jamil:

Watches Yuu eat absurdly spicy food and just nods in understanding.

“I see. You are immune to pain.”

HATES Yuu's bugs

Vil:

Disgusted when he hears Yuu doesn’t wear shoes outside sometimes.

“Your skincare routine is what? You just use aloe vera straight from the plant? I—well, actually, that’s not terrible…”

Reluctantly approves of some Australian remedies.

Epel:

Loves that Yuu swears like a sailor. Finally, someone who talks like him!

“Wait, so callin’ someone a ‘sick cunt’ is a good thing?!”

Adopts Aussie insults immediately. Rook is both fascinated and terrified.

Rook:

Enthralled. “Oho, mon chasseur, you live in a land where nature itself is your greatest foe! Magnifique!”

Thinks drop bears are real because Yuu refuses to tell him otherwise.

Constantly calls Yuu "mon kangourou bondissant" (my bouncing kangaroo).

Idia:

“Australia sounds like a survival horror game.”

“Wait, you just accept that there are huge spiders everywhere? You co-exist with them???”

Never setting foot in Australia, ever.

Ortho:

“Big brother, did you know that in Australia, magpies attack people during breeding season?”

Idia: logs off

Malleus:

LOVES hearing about Dreamtime stories and Aboriginal legends.

Yuu tells him about bunyips and he’s instantly obsessed.

“So, your homeland is filled with creatures that lurk in the dark and attack the unaware? …How delightful.”

Lilia:

“You eat what? Kangaroo meat? Crocodile? How fascinating!”

Probably asks Yuu to cook for him, assuming Australians have insane cooking skills due to their ability to survive in such a dangerous place.

Yuu: “Nah, mate, I just chuck a snag on the barbie.”

Sebek:

Thinks Yuu is insane for casually swearing at dangerous animals.

“HUMANS SHOULD FEAR SUCH BEASTS!”

Yuu: kicks a huntsman spider off the wall with zero reaction

Sebek: stunned silence

Ace:

“Wait, so you’re telling me that in Australia, if you see a random dog, it might actually be a dingo?”

Laughs his ass off when Yuu calls Riddle "Ridz" and gets collared instantly.

Constantly tries to get Yuu to teach him Aussie slang. “So if I call someone a ‘drongo,’ that’s an insult, right?”

Tries Vegemite the wrong way (straight from the jar with a spoon) and nearly dies.

Deuce:

Shocked at how casually Yuu talks about deadly animals.

“Wait, so you just had spiders the size of my hand in your house? And you just left them alone?!”

Starts calling Ace a "bloody galah" without realizing it’s an insult.

Lowkey impressed that Yuu knows how to throw a proper punch. If they ever get into a fight, he backs them up 100%.

Cater:

Obsessed with the slang. Uses it wrong constantly.

“Oi, mate! Let’s hit up Sam’s for some snags, yeah? No wuckas!”

“Cater, what the actual hell did you just say?”

Loves that Yuu calls him "Caito." Absolutely adopts the nickname.

Takes a Magicam pic of himself drinking tea while wearing a cork hat. #OutbackAesthetic

Trey:

Concerned about Yuu’s diet.

“So you regularly eat crocodile?”

Yuu: “Yeah, tastes like chicken.”

Accepts the challenge of making a proper Aussie meat pie and succeeds. Yuu is forever loyal to him now.

Tries a Tim Tam Slam and nearly ascends to another plane of existence.

Ruggie:

“Wait, so you had to fight ibises for your food growing up?”

Deep respect unlocked.

Also loves that Yuu can survive on cheap food like two-minute noodles. “You get it, dude.”

Learns about the Great Emu War and refuses to believe Yuu is telling the truth.

Starts calling Leona "King Ding-a-ling" just because Yuu does.

Jack:

Is the only one who isn’t fazed when Yuu talks about fighting wild animals.

“So you just learned how to handle snakes as a kid? Yeah, that checks out.”

Secretly loves it when Yuu calls him "Jacko."

Takes Yuu seriously when they warn him about magpies. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Puts his hood up for the first time ever when Yuu says, “If you hear a loud swooping sound, run.”

Silver:

Falls asleep standing up outside. Gets woken up by Yuu yelling, “BRO, YOU’RE GONNA GET SWOOPED.”

Yuu fully believes Silver is part koala because he sleeps anywhere and is unbothered by loud noises.

“You remind me of a bloke I knew back home. He fell asleep in a tree once.”

Thinks it’s cool that Yuu knows survival skills but gets worried when they mention how often Australians just deal with dangerous animals.

Professor Crewel:

Hears about how Yuu has picked up snakes before and immediately gives them a 45-minute lecture on safety.

“You cannot just grab a snake by the head, Prefect!”

Absolutely bans Yuu from bringing any Australian creatures into his classroom.

Secretly approves of their blunt attitude. If they weren’t so chaotic, they’d be a model student.

Professor Trein:

“Wait, you refer to your teachers by their first names in some schools?”

Horrified at Yuu’s casual disrespect of authority figures.

Starts carrying a spray bottle because Yuu keeps swearing in class.

Lucius actually likes Yuu because they instinctively respect him like an Aussie street cat.

Sam:

“Ooooh, I like your vibe, little kangaroo~”

Absolutely starts selling Aussie snacks when he realizes how much Yuu misses them.

“I got some Tim Tams, some Milo, and even some fairy bread for ya~”

Yuu nearly cries tears of joy.

Sells Vegemite to unsuspecting students with no warning. Capitalism wins.

Event Characters

Neige:

Thinks Yuu’s accent is the cutest thing ever.

“Oh wow! You sound so cool when you say ‘G’day!’”

Accidentally eats Vegemite by the spoonful because Yuu forgot to warn him. Regrets it instantly.

Chenya:

Thinks Yuu’s chaotic energy is incredible.

“Wait, so your homeland is just one big Wonderland?”

Steals their hat if they ever wear one. "You don’t need this, right?"

Rollo:

Immediately assumes Yuu is more of a menace than the NRC students.

“What do you mean you used to surf in waters filled with sharks?”

His soul leaves his body when Yuu talks about deadly animals with zero concern.

“Surely you exaggerate.”

Yuu: shows a picture of a huntsman spider

Rollo: praying in French

Meleanor & Lilia (when younger):

Meleanor thinks Yuu is the funniest human she’s ever met. "You do what with a shoe?!"

Lilia, even at a young age, respects the chaos.

“So, you just... coexist with nature trying to kill you?”

Yuu: “Yeah, mate. You just don’t show fear.”

Meleanor: “I like this one.”

Other Random Aussie Moments

Yuu introduces everyone to Tim Tams. The entire school becomes addicted.

Someone asks Yuu what’s the most dangerous animal in Australia. Yuu: “The emus.”

Yuu doesn’t flinch when something big crashes outside. NRC students: “Aren’t you going to check?” Yuu: “Eh, probably just a possum.”

Introduces Vegemite to everyone. The reactions range from horrified (Azul) to pretending to enjoy it (Kalim) to “this is fine” (Leona).

Tries to teach everyone how to do a shoey. Vil bans it immediately.

Gets into a fistfight with a goose during a visit to Noble Bell College.

More Random Aussie Moments

Yuu kicks off their shoes and Trein looks personally offended.

They call the cafeteria the ‘tuck shop’ and confuse everyone.

Someone asks Yuu for an energy drink recommendation. Yuu: “Yeah, nah, get a Monster. Maybe a Red Bull if you wanna fight God.”

Rook asks Yuu to track something. Yuu: sniffs air “Yeah, mate, I can track that.” (Has no idea what they’re doing but commits anyway.)

During an event in a desert-like location, Yuu just goes full Aussie survival mode. They thrive while everyone else struggles.

Someone calls Yuu soft. Yuu: "Mate, I survived living in a country where even the plants can kill ya."

They try to ride a broom and end up treating it like a surfboard.

#twst x reader #twst #twst wonderland #twst yuu #australia #twst aussie!yuu #twst incorrect quotes #twst headcanons #culture!yuu

242 notes · View notes

robynlilyblack · 3 months ago

Text

Little sickling

Remus Lupin x fem! sick! reader

Summary: Remus runs his girlfriend a bath when she’s unwell

Warnings/tags: swearing, mentions of eating, being unwell, medication, remus’ furry little problem, treating wounds, nudity, and, talks of sex and attempts at seduction, established relationship, living together, implied reader and remus not being very well off, remus lupin being the sweetest boyfriend

A/n: 3k words, I have been so sick the last couple weeks, I apologise for any errors, this fic is 100% self serving, enjoy ♡

Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist

Remus smiles to himself as he walks home, bag of essentials in one hand and flowers in the other. He didn’t know what to expect when he got in, this morning he had left a very adamant you who swore, and he quotes, that she ‘was not getting sick’. As much as he wanted to believe you, your subtle coughs and sniffles were not subtle enough, hence the bags filled with supplies to make easy stews and soups for you to eat, fresh tissues for that sniffly nose, medicine for those headaches, cough syrup that he’ll likely have to bribe you into taking, and lastly, some flowers, though are mostly to make you smile

He doesn’t mind the extra effort, in fact, it brings him an odd sense of joy knowing he’ll be able to look after you for once. Ever since you’ve known him you’ve been looking after him, and now that you both were living together, far from the wizarding world, you’d have to bear the brunt of it all on your own with his friends off living their own lives. It wasn’t that they didn’t care for him anymore, no, he had encouraged them to go live their lives, and while you were supportive of that, he still feels guilty sometimes that he’s locked you into such a life

He breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of your shared home, even if the gutter was hanging off again…least the plants are getting a good water

As he reaches the front door, he places down the bags and flowers softly, rubbing his achy hand from the weight before using them to open the rather stubborn door you both should really fix. With one hand turning the key and the other pulling the door towards him the lock clicks and he can push it open. His theory you were sicker than you were letting on is confirmed when silence greets him on the other end. Usually you’re like a happy little bunny meeting him at the front door, all excited and practically bouncing as you run up to give him a hug. But today he finds a dim hall, only illuminated by the soft light of the living room as the door has been left ajar

He moves the bags and flowers inside before locking the door behind him and calling out “Love?” but he receives no answer

Abandoning the supplies for a moment he walks towards the light, his smile coming back as he pushes the door open and realises why you were quiet. You’re caught red handed in getting up from the small fort you had created on the couch, smiling shyly as you practically have to wrestle out of the sheer magnitude of blankets you had hoarded

“Hi” you croak a little, embarrassed as you continue to shuffle out

He wishes you would stay seated and let him come to you, but he doesn’t argue, and instead closes the gap “Hey” he coos “How are you feelin’?”

You pout as you approach him “Meh” is all you can muster before your head falls instinctively into his chest

He chuckles, opening his jacket fully so you can slip your hands in to steal his warmth as you always did “Poor baby” he kisses the top of your head, bring his arms around you before looking over at your makeshift bed

Frankly it’s a disaster site, from the multiple blankets and pillows thrown together in no particular order, to the loo roll being used as tissue paper. He over looks at the coffee table next, noting some medicine on the table, a good start, followed by some old tea, half eaten toast, along with a couple forgotten books you clearly tried to read but then opted for generic tv instead when you couldn’t concentrate

Out of everything there was only one thing he was going to give you a little row for…

“No water?” he looks down at you

He has to put on his best poker face now as you look up with the most guilty little face

“I had…some” you reply, face giving away your play while your hands falls to begin playing with the rim of his jumper

“Tea doesn’t count…neither does juice or coffee” he adds when you open your mouth to object

You lower your head to guise your shame “I’m sorry Rem” you mumble

He can feel the pout through his jumper “I’m not mad, promise” he pulls you back gently, giving you a reassuring look before he eyes you “So…are you going let me look after ya this time?”

You don’t try to pretend like this morning nor argue against him, just nod. Gone is the stubborn girl who swore she was okay and was going to get so much done on her day off, and what remains is a very tired and sick one that just wants coddled by her boyfriend

“Good girl” he moves you back towards the couch “Let's get you hydrated first” he tells you as he encourages you to sit down “When did you last take those?” he gestures to the packet of pills

Your eyebrows scrunch before you look over towards the clock “Around 11ish, maybe 12?” you shrug softly, giving him a sorry smile for not keeping better track “Is it really 6 already?” you say mostly to yourself before coughing softly

He just kisses your forehead, saying he’ll be right back as he returns to the hall, hanging up his jacket before collecting the bags and taking them into the kitchen. He quickly puts some things that needed to go in the fridge away before grabbing a clean glass and filling it up with some water. While he’s here he grabs a spare vase from under the sink. Usually he would make you a bouquet but today he opted for the quicker version, allowing him to place them in directly and waste no time in returning to you, flowers in one hand, water in the other

You’re right where he left you when he reenters the living room, and he can’t help but find your idling adorable. Rocking your feet back and forth, hands under your thighs as your head looks around the room, eyes wandering like you hadn’t fully decorated the place yourself

“Love” he gently calls, gaining your attention, his smile widening at your little scooch towards him as he joins you on the couch, placing the flowers on the table in front of you along with the water

“You got me flowers?” you cheese, cheeks barely containing your glee

He nods, his heart flipping like he was a schoolboy again at your silly smile “Like em?” he asks even though he already knows the answer

“Very much” you reach out, thump and forefinger softly playing with the petals before you kiss his shoulder “Do they smell as pretty as they look?” you wonder, struggling with your stuffy nose

Remus’ smile sinks to a sympathetic one, arm sliding around your waist “They do” he confirms “And you’ll be able to smell them sooner once you’re hydrated” he pivots the conversation, picking up the glass and handing it to you

You accept the tumbler with a small eye roll, cupping it as you take small sips, leaning into his side, while Remus’ arm moves upward, hand finding the top of your head, giving you little pets. You cough periodically while you rehydrate, and Remus kisses the side of your head every time you do, after your most recent he nuzzles his nose in a little. You let out a couple of soft hums, the first from the closeness, and the second at the loss of contact when Remus shifts away

He feels your confused gaze as he walks over to your desk, grabbing the smaller bin as he begins to clear away the coffee table

“You don…” you start but he just gives you a look “...have to do that…” you whisper the rest to yourself but he still hears you

“I want to” he says simply, placing the bin down beside the table before leaving the room, taking away the old tea with him

When he returns he finds you struggling with your blankets “Let me make you a proper bed, this ones just sad” he teases, ushering you to get up

“You’re sad” you retort quietly, hiding your little smile at the idea of a getting Remus style bed couch

He lets out a breathy laugh that sinks to amusing admiration at your little waddle over to the nearby armchair, water in tow. As he moves all of the blankets to one side, throwing away any tissues that had fallen into them, he notices you bring your feet up to sit on, warming them up after being exposed to the cold floor.

He picks up one of the spare blankets “Up” he gestures for you to lift up your arms and when you do he drapes the soft material over you “Good girl” he throws you a wink before turning back to the couch, unable to contain his smirk as he hears your little wriggles beneath the blanket at his choice of words

He begins his work, layering the fluffiest of the blankets down, tucking it into the edges of the couch cushions. Next he piles the random assortment of pillows you had hoarded to cradle you, while he takes your favourite blanket and drapes it over, folding it at the top so you can slip in. It’s then he adds the final touches, bringing through a pitcher of water and fresh box of tissues, before flicking on the softer lamp

“There” he says, looking proud of his creation

He looks towards you for confirmation, finding you smiling sweetly at him before sipping your water again, doing your best to hold back the coughs that threaten bubble over

“Doing alright love” he kneels down, hand finding your thigh through the plush material

You nod but then wear a slightly embarrassed smile

“What’s wrong? You want the bigger blanket” he rubs your legs, worried there's a draft he’s not noticed

“Rem…do I smell?” you blurt out, pursing your lips a little “I feel stinky” you confess, nose all scrunched

He does his best not to chuckle, especially as he notices a stray hair that’s falling forward like a depressed little unicorn

“Hmmm” he leans forward “Let me see” he begins to dramatically sniff around you, basking in your croaky giggles before he widens his eyes “Oh my!” he pretends to faint from the smell, head falling into you lap

“Rem!” you huff, shoving him a little before you cough again “Remmy!” you shake him again, your tone in time with the shakes but your coughs get the better of you and it soon turns into a small fit

“Oh…hun” he feels guilty as he lifts his head, shifting to sit on the arm of the chair as he rubs your back softly “Slow breaths, you’re gonna be okay I promise” he assures noticing your slight distress as you struggle to catch your breath

When your breathing stabilises you lean into him “And you say I’ll be the death of you” you meekly chuckle, earning you a kiss to the head

Once he’s sure you’re okay Remus stands “Come on” he helps you up “I’ll run you a bath…” he tells you before adding the next part with a grin “...it’ll help you feel less stinky”

You roll your eyes before your expression drops, realising he said ‘you’ and not ‘we’ just now “You aren’t going to join me?” you say, reaching what must reaching a record breaking amount of pouts in one day

He shakes his head “Sorry love, not this time” he flicks his thumb across your cheek before taking your hand again “That alright?” he starts to lead you

After a semi grumpy ‘hmph’ but allow him to take you upstairs. As you enter the bathroom he sits you down at the end of the tub, feeling your eyes as he goes into the cupboard to fetch you a towel, catching you leaning forward to continue watching as he heads into the bedroom to fetch you fresh clothes, and by clothes a set of his old pjs

“I brought you some underwear if you want it” he gestures to the delicates, well…more delicate as he’s already correctly assumed you probably wouldn’t want a bra

“Thanks” you smile at him, standing to give him a proper kiss but he turns his head at the last minute causing you to miss, catching his cheek instead “Remmy!” you scold in the quietest little voice as not to induce another coughing fit

He chuckles “Sorry little sickling” he pats your head “Can’t have us both sick” he explains “Be tragic”

You cross your arms “I’m not a sickling” you grumble, looking away for a moment before you attempt to broker “One” you plead, but he doesn’t budge “Please…pretty please…chocolate on top?”

It kills him to deny you, especially when you look at him like that…and offer hi chocolate, but he could only have one sickling in this house at a time, and far to often does he take up that mantle

“Bath first, then you can try negotiating little sickling” he uses the nickname again, revealing in how it annoys you in the cutest way

After one last attempt with those eyes you give in, shoulders slumping as you mutter a small ‘fine’d’, moving around him to begin underdressing. Remus takes that as a cue to take your place at the tub, sitting closer to the tap as he runs you your bath, fingers softly flicking under the running water as he waits for it to heat

“Rem honey?” you attempt gain his attention after a couple minutes

I know that tone

“Reeemmm” he can just imagine the poses

He hangs his head a little, smirking to himself, he had to admire your attempts. Still, he lives to annoy you even if you were to quote future you ‘mortally wounded’, so he leaves you to stew a little, focusing on placing the plug in the drain, and pouring some of your favourite smellies and salts in. It’s only after you let out another ‘hmph’ that his body pulses a laugh, failing to hold it in as you must resemble a bunny thumping when their mad or want attention, in fact he’s surprised he didn’t hear your foot stomp

“Lov…” he turns around, words leaving him as he can’t stop the loving smirk at your figure “No” he says half heartedly

“Please” you bring your arms a little closer to your sides, accentuating two particular assets

Remus meant when he said the sight of both of you sick would be tragic but he’s losing that battle with how good you look as you try to seduce him into giving you a kiss…or the getting in the bath with you…or both, probably both

“Rem!” you whine, scrunching your face before your eyes light up turning around, wiggling

He takes a moment to admire the jiggle before he stands, wrapping his arms around you, causing you to turn and face him, a winning smile on your face but it falls as he tilts his head, giving you a downturned smile

“Did it work even a little bit?” you sulk

He chuckles, fingers raking through your hair, being careful of the tugs that have formed “If you weren’t sick love I’d be afraid of flooding the bathroom with how quickly you would have gotten dragged over there” he nods across the hall, causing you to shyly smile “I promise you’ll get all the real kisses you want once you recover”

“Plus interest?” you pose, rocking on your toes as you bite your lip a little, and he’s suddenly aware of the double meaning in your tone

Merlin he could fall in love with you all over again

“Plus interest” he agrees with a chuckle, giving you a big smile and kiss to the top of your head before turning back to the bath before it really does overflow

Leaning back over the tub he turns off the tap, pulling the sleeves of his jumper up as he checks the temperature and gently mixes in the soap. Once he’s happy with the water to bubbles ratio he wipes the soap that clings to his forearms and reaches out towards you

“Ready love?”

You nod, taking his hands and letting him guide you carefully into the tub. A hiss escapes your lips as your foot touches the water, taking a moment to adjust to the temperature, while Remus, ever the gentlemen, Remus keeps a steady hold on you as you sink in fully, and once you’re settled he gently gathers your hair, securing it out of the way before it has a chance to dip into the water, he would help you wash it later

“The steam will help clear your sinuses while I make us some dinner” he tells you as he kneels next to the tub, the backs of his fingers finding your cheek for a moment “I got you”

You lean into it, getting shy under his care “You’re too sweet” you bring your knees up to your chest

Remus’ lips part at the use of his monthly catchphrase being used against him. You were always to patient when he was a grumpy old sod before his transformations, and so sweet and gentle after them, making him warm food, tending to his wounds, kissing everything better

Time to return the favour

He brings his lips to the corner of your own, lingering there before he uses your own words against you “Just treating you the way you deserve” he plants another to your temple then stands “I’ll be back soon”

You give him a small nod, coughing gently “Thank you Remmy” you smile, practically melting into the tub “I love you”

“I love you more…” he blows you a kiss before he leaves, but just before the door closes he adds “...my little sickling”

“REM!”

Thank you for reading ♡

#remus lupin and reader #remus lupin and you #remus lupin and y/n #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #young remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus and reader #remus x reader #remus x you #remus x y/n #remus and you #remus and y/n #marauders era #marauders #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff

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indulgentdaydream · 11 months ago

Note

soft hc’s for Jason please!

I LOVE SOFT JASON

y'all should know by now how much of a SUCKER i am for domestic jason holy

he just likes to hold you.

just anywhere

in the kitchen, his arms are around your waist, hugging you from behind

in bed, that man is holding you like you are his beloved childhood teddy bear

which you basically are but you're his beloved ADULTHOOD teddy bear you know

he is such a teddy bear though

big rough hands yet they are the gentlest in the universe when he needs them to be

which he really only needs them to be for you and any children he encounters on patrol

OH MY GOD JASON WITH KIDS

the way he interacts with the crime alley kids makes my heart CRY

he sits there with them for hours

he'll let the smaller ones climb all over him as much as they want

he'll play wrestle with the bigger ones (though he's still holding back 99%. those "bigger" kids are still as small as he was from the lack of nutrition

you find him in the kitchen one day cooking like three huge pots of some simple yet delicious warm meal all at once

he's like some italian grandmother

"they need meat on their bones"

everyday he comes home from patrol covered in blood

one night he comes home covered in stickers and you break out laughing at him

"SHUT UP AND HELP ME FIND A WAY TO KEEP THEM ALL"

he has a "sticker book" but it's just a blank journal and the pages are filled with all the stickers he's been given

this man wants kids. he wants them. but he doesn't think he'd be a good dad. so he doesn't let himself KNOW that he wants them. he pushes it aside

(if any of you come out of the woodworks saying it's because willis was a bad dad. that's because you misunderstand poor people. sorry not sorry post of you don't get what it's like to be poor and grow up poor)

you see this man when y'all are on dates in public. You look over to ask him something and find him staring off somewhere, a soft yet longing smile on his face.

it's always when he sees a dad with their kid, interacting/playing with them

you lost him in walmart once and found him in the baby section looking at all the clothes with the same exact look that could be spotted from across the section where you were spying on him

give this man a child when he is ready PLEASE

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x male!reader #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x male reader #red hood x male!reader

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boykisser4 · 8 months ago

Text

My Sweet Baby

pairing: young naive Kageyama tobio x male reader, nsfw so minors begone

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) male reader, smut, possessive, corruption, pervy m/n, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist, oral, overstimulation, praise

summary: m/n found Kageyama to be as cute as ever. but Kageyama aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, m/n more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let Kageyama forget him.

The library was an eerie sanctuary in the heart of the academy, a bastion of silence where whispers of knowledge danced between the dusty bookshelves. There, in the quietude, sat a young man with a furrowed brow, wrestling with the complexities of a book that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. His name was Kageyama Tobio, a boy whose youthful innocence was as stark as the white pages he studied with feverish intensity.

Entering the library, the m/n couldn't help but notice the desperate look etched on Kageyama's face. With a knowing smile, he approached Kageyama, whose eyes flickered up with hope at the interruption. "Having trouble, Kageyama?" he asked, his voice a gentle caress that seemed to echo in the hallowed space.

Kageyama nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It's this assignment," he whispered, his eyes pleading for salvation. "I just don't get it." The m/n's smile grew, a hint of mischief playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne wrapping around Kageyama like a warm embrace. "Maybe you just need the right kind of... guidance," he murmured, his fingers brushing against the nape of Kageyama's neck. The younger boy shivered, his pupils dilating at the touch.

"What do you mean?" Kageyama stuttered, his curiosity piqued. The m/n leaned even closer, his breath hot against Kageyama's ear. "I mean, I could help you. But it's going to cost you something," he whispered, his voice a seductive promise. Kageyama swallowed hard, his heart racing in his chest. He knew what the m/n was implying, but the thought of failing his assignment was too much to bear.

With a shaky nod, Kageyama agreed, his eyes never leaving the m/n's intense gaze. The m/n's smile grew into a grin, his teeth flashing white. He slid his hand down Kageyama's back, resting it possessively on his hip. "Come with me," he said, standing up and offering a hand. Kageyama took it, his palm sweaty, and allowed himself to be led to a secluded corner of the library, where a single desk stood, shrouded by tall bookshelves.

Once there, the m/n pushed Kageyama's chair closer, his thighs brushing against the other boy's. He leaned over, his breath warm against Kageyama's cheek as he pointed at the text. "Let's see what you're dealing with," he said, his tone low and intimate. As Kageyama tried to focus on the words in front of him, he could feel the m/n's eyes scanning his body, lingering on his neck and the soft swell of his chest beneath his shirt. The heat from the older man's body washed over him, making it hard to concentrate.

The m/n's hand began to trace lazy circles on Kageyama's thigh, his fingers inching closer and closer to the growing bulge in his pants. Kageyama's breath hitched, his eyes darting around the library, fearful that someone would see. But the m/n's grip was firm, his gaze unyielding. "Don't worry," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "I'll make sure you understand everything."

Kageyama felt his resolve waver, his body responding to the m/n's touch despite his mind screaming for him to stop. The m/n noticed his distraction and leaned in, his teeth grazing Kageyama's earlobe. "You're so cute when you're desperate," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down Kageyama's spine. His hand slid up, cupping Kageyama's growing erection through his pants. "But let's get to work, shall we?"

The lesson began with the m/n explaining the assignment, his voice a soft purr that seemed to coax understanding from the very pages of the book. But his touch remained constant, his hand moving in slow, maddening strokes that had Kageyama squirming in his seat. He tried to focus on the words, but his mind kept drifting to the sensation of the m/n's hand on him, the promise of more just out of reach.

The tension grew with each passing moment, the m/n's grip tightening, his strokes becoming more insistent. Kageyama's cheeks burned, his body betraying him as he grew harder under the older man's touch. His eyes darted to the m/n's, searching for any sign of mercy, but all he found was a glint of possessiveness, a hint of the predator claiming his prey.

The m/n leaned in closer, his nose brushing against Kageyama's neck as he whispered, "You're doing so well, baby. But I think you need a little... incentive." With that, he leaned down and placed a soft, wet kiss just below Kageyama's ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. Kageyama's eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp.

The m/n took the opportunity to slip his hand into Kageyama's pants, his warm fingers wrapping around the younger boy's erection. Kageyama's hips jerked, his eyes snapping back to the m/n's, wide with shock and arousal. "Is this what you want?" the m/n asked, his voice a low growl. "To be mine, to have me help you like this?"

Kageyama's voice was a strangled whisper. "Yes," he managed to croak out, his entire body trembling with need. The m/n smirked, his grip tightening, his strokes becoming faster. "Good boy," he murmured, his other hand coming up to pinch Kageyama's nipple through his shirt. "Keep going, you're almost there."

Kageyama's eyes squeezed shut, his teeth biting into his bottom lip to stifle his moans. The library's silence was a stark contrast to the storm raging within him, the m/n's touch setting him alight. He could feel himself getting closer, his orgasm building like a crescendo in his core.

And just as he was about to reach the peak, the m/n stopped, his hand withdrawing from Kageyama's pants. "Not yet," he said, his voice a command. "You still have work to do." Kageyama whimpered, his body protesting the sudden absence of the m/n's touch. But the m/n was unrelenting, his hand returning to the text. "Focus, baby. You can do it."

The next few minutes were a blur of words and sensations, the m/n's hand guiding Kageyama through the assignment while his other hand teased and tormented him. Each time Kageyama thought he couldn't take it anymore, the m/n would slow down, whispering sweet nothings that kept him on the edge. It was a delicate dance of power and submission, the m/n expertly playing Kageyama's body like an instrument.

Finally, with the assignment completed and Kageyama's mind hazy with lust, the m/n leaned back, his eyes gleaming with victory. "Good job," he said, his voice a purr. "Now, let's discuss your payment." Kageyama looked up at him, his eyes glazed with need. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The m/n's smile grew wolfish. "I want you," he said simply, his hand moving back to Kageyama's thigh. "And I want everyone to know it." Kageyama's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening in shock. "What do you mean?" he stammered.

The m/n leaned in, his mouth hovering over Kageyama's. "I want you to be mine, in every way. And I want to show you off." His hand moved to Kageyama's chin, tilting it up. "You'll be my little exhibitionist, baby. You'll do anything for me, won't you?"

Kageyama's breath hitched, his body responding to the m/n's dominance despite his racing thoughts. He nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "Yes," he breathed, his voice shaking.

The m/n's smile grew, his hand sliding back into Kageyama's pants. "That's what I thought," he murmured, his thumb brushing against the sensitive head of Kageyama's cock. "Now, let's seal the deal."

With a firm grip, the m/n began to stroke Kageyama again, his movements swift and sure. Kageyama's hips bucked, his body begging for release. The m/n leaned in, capturing his mouth in a brutal kiss, claiming him as his own. Kageyama moaned into the kiss, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as the m/n's other hand slipped beneath his shirt, pinching and tweaking his nipples.

The m/n broke the kiss, his teeth grazing Kageyama's bottom lip. "You're going to come for me," he said, his voice a demand. "And when you do, you're going to scream my name so everyone in this library knows who you belong to."

Kageyama's eyes went wide with a mix of fear and excitement. The m/n's hand moved faster, his thumb pressing down in a rhythmic pattern that had Kageyama's toes curling in his shoes. The older man's eyes never left his, a dark promise in their depths that made Kageyama's stomach flip. He tried to hold back the moan building in his chest, but it was a losing battle.

The m/n's other hand slid down to Kageyama's waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, leaving little bruises that made Kageyama's skin tingle. The pressure built, his muscles tightening, his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. "Yeah," the m/n encouraged, his voice low and gravelly. "Let it go, baby. Show me how much you want this."

With a strangled cry, Kageyama came, his body arching off the chair. The m/n's hand never stopped moving, drawing out every last drop of pleasure, until Kageyama was boneless, panting heavily. The silence in the library was deafening, the only sound the rustle of pages and the occasional cough to cover the noise. Kageyama's cheeks burned, his eyes downcast, but the m/n didn't let him hide. He leaned in, his voice a gentle command. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, Kageyama lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting the m/n's. The older man's eyes were dark with desire, his own arousal evident in the bulge in his pants. He leaned in, capturing Kageyama's mouth in another kiss, one that was far from gentle. It was a claiming, a branding of ownership that had Kageyama's heart racing even faster.

When they broke apart, the m/n's hand was still on Kageyama's hip, his thumb tracing circles through the sticky mess on his stomach. "Good boy," he murmured, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction. "Now, let's get you cleaned up before we move on to the next lesson."

Kageyama's eyes widened, realizing that this wasn't the end of their rendezvous. The m/n stood up, pulling Kageyama to his feet and leading him to the bathroom. He pushed him into a stall, locking the door behind them with a decisive click. "Take off your pants," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Kageyama complied, his trembling hands fumbling with his belt. The m/n stepped closer, his own pants now open, his cock standing at attention. He watched Kageyama with a predatory gaze, his eyes hungry. Once Kageyama's pants were around his ankles, the m/n stepped in, his hand wrapping around his throbbing length. "You're so obedient," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "It's going to be so much fun breaking you in."

Kageyama's face was a mask of shock and arousal as the m/n bent him over the sink, his firm grip on his hip keeping him in place. The cold porcelain sent a shiver down Kageyama's spine, a stark contrast to the heat of the m/n's body pressing against him. He could feel the older man's cock against his ass, the tip teasing his entrance. "Please," he whimpered, his voice barely audible.

The m/n chuckled, the sound echoing off the tiles. "Please what?" he taunted, his breath hot against Kageyama's neck. "Please what, baby?"

"Please, just do it," Kageyama begged, his voice shaking. The m/n's grip tightened, his other hand coming down to slap Kageyama's ass with a resounding crack. The pain mixed with pleasure, making Kageyama's cock twitch. "You'll have to do better than that," the m/n said, his voice a dark challenge.

With a growl, the m/n pushed into him, the head of his cock stretching Kageyama open. Kageyama's cry was muffled by the m/n's hand over his mouth, his eyes watering with the sudden intrusion. The m/n didn't stop, pushing deeper, filling Kageyama completely. Kageyama's body tensed, his mind reeling from the sensation. It was too much, too overwhelming, but he couldn't deny the way his body was responding.

The m/n began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. Kageyama's moans grew louder, his body moving in time with the m/n's rhythm. He could feel the m/n's hand on his stomach, the pressure building, the promise of a bruise that would be a constant reminder of this moment. Each slap of flesh against flesh was a declaration of ownership, a promise of more to come.

The m/n's hand moved from Kageyama's mouth to his cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Kageyama's eyes rolled back, his moans becoming more desperate. "That's it," the m/n murmured, his voice low and approving. "You're going to come for me again, aren't you?"

Kageyama nodded, unable to form words. The m/n's grip tightened, his strokes growing more insistent. Kageyama felt himself building to the edge, the pressure in his stomach unbearable. He could feel the m/n's cock pulsing inside him, the older man's breaths growing ragged. "Come for me," the m/n grunted, his voice thick with need. "Come on, baby."

And with that, Kageyama's body obeyed, his orgasm ripping through him like a bolt of lightning. The m/n's hand on his stomach tightened, the pain mixing with the pleasure until Kageyama was seeing stars. The m/n groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into Kageyama, his cum filling the younger boy's ass.

"Now you're mine," he said, his voice a soft whisper. "And don't you ever forget it." Kageyama nodded, his legs shaking Kageyama trembling

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hadesoftheladies · 8 months ago

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to my indian sisters, may you know your grief and anger are shared by many. may you create a more just world with your voices. you are the path toward a humane and fantastic future, you are the explorers and inventors our world desperately needs. your strength is the pride of the human race.

to my usa-american sisters, may you secure your rights and come together in a new and powerful way, pulling away from other divisions in order to come into your power and wrestle your country back from the self-destructive hands of men. to my native sisters especially, may your resilience in guarding the earth from the violence of men yield fruit. may your people roam their lands freely and without fear once again. may your daughters be rescued from the dim trucks of the military ghouls of a society merely pretending at civilization.

to my afghani sisters, may the world, sun and sky, once again see your beautiful faces. may your voices run as free, wild and far as the wind again in song.

to my sisters in iran, may you you once again dance without fear as boldly as the fire. may the evil world of men around you burn and may your daughters and mothers kick up its ashes. women. life. freedom.

to my south korean sisters, you are fiercer than anyone could have ever imagined, a beacon of hope to women everywhere. you have inspired a generation of women to reclaim what is rightfully theirs and there is no reward we could give that would ever measure up to that gift. i will do my best to follow your lead into freedom.

to my sisters in congo, no one knows the pain you have endured and no one can fathom it. i will keep my ear out for your weeping and your crying. i will not turn my face from you. i will see you.

to my sisters in sudan, you have done your best to bear more than can be humanly possible. i cannot comprehend the volume of your suffering. i cannot fathom it. but i refuse to forget you. i ache for you. may your stomachs once again be full and your bodies free of the pain of hunger. may you find shelter from the desert and the wild men that roam it.

to my tigrayan sisters, you should never have had to suffer for the hatred and greed in men's hearts. may your world be once again filled with friends instead of enemies.

to my sisters trapped and corralled in deutschland, may you break out from the display windows and trafficking pens. may your body find rest and comfort. may you find home and love. may you go to bed at night and fear nothing. may the district one day go completely dark.

to my sisters in palestine, may you see the day you rebuild what had been utterly destroyed. may your every need be met and your grief validated. may your anguish be taken from you. may abundance surround you and may there be laughter once again in your homes.

to the immigrant women, the working class women, the mothers, the schoolgirls, the women in cities and countries facing rising rates of femicide and assault, the victims of cyber-bullying . . .

there are so many of us, suffering at the hands of incessant male violence. no matter the age, income, or ethnicity. no matter the location. it is everywhere. and so i grieve with all of you, i am angry on all your behalf, i hope for all of us. and i will do what i can to let you know you are not alone in the world. we are here, all of us, together.

may we all be free.

#radblr #feminism #women life freedom

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arjwrites · 10 months ago

Text

Times You Threatened to Kill Dean Winchester- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: A brief account of all the times you wanted to kill a certain hunter.

Warnings: Language, character death, thoughts of suicide, references to sex, threats... A good mix of fluff and angst! Word Count: 2.3k A/N: This one was a labor of love! I have a few other fics in the works as per a few requests I have received, but this one was speaking to me tonight, so I sat down to write it! Please enjoy- in the meantime, your requests are coming soon! <3

“Dean Winchester, I could just KILL you!”

You were extremely familiar with the Winchester boys’ prank wars by now. You had been witness to a few different cycles of this behavior over the many years you had known them- in fact, if someone were to dig through the old cardboard box you kept hidden in the spare room at Bobby’s, they’d probably find a few faded teenage pictures of a bald Sam after Dean snuck Nair into his shampoo, or a sleeping Dean with some sharpie-d enhancements adorning his face. But up until now, you had always kept to the sidelines. Time and time again, you claimed Switzerland to avoid their shenanigans, because it always got way too out of hand.

But today, when you climbed out of bed, still groggy with sleep, stepping into the bathroom of your shared motel room, an entire bucket’s worth of ice water that had been balanced atop the door came crashing down on you. The sensation sent a shockwave through your whole body, and from the noise that escaped your lips, you would’ve thought you had been shot. And to add insult to injury, the bucket itself smacked against your head on its way down.

So to start your day, you were soaking wet, freezing, pissed off, and nursing a swelling bump atop your head. A blind rage filled your body. You knew it had to have been Dean, it was his turn to retaliate after Sam had messed with the stereo in the Impala so that it only played Barbie Girl. It had been a long, silent ride home after last night’s hunt.

“Dean Winchester, you are a dead man!” The words came bursting out of you as you stormed your way out of the bathroom.

“What did I- Oh my GOD. That wasn’t for you.” Dean’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. He knew he had fucked up.

The first thing to go flying across the room was the bucket, which nailed Dean in the chest with an anticlimactic thud. You followed close behind it. At full speed, you sprinted into Dean, knocking him back onto the bed behind him.

“Get off me! You’re soaking wet!” Dean protested, throwing his arms between you two in an effort to shield himself.

“Yeah, how do you like it?” You weren’t going to back down.

So that is how you ended up wrestling with Dean. You put up a surprisingly good fight for a lot longer than you expected, able to overpower him via sheer force of will. Once Dean got his bearings, though, he flipped you over, hovering on top of you and pinning you to the bed by your wrists. You held an intense eye contact for a brief moment while you each caught your breath. In doing so, you came to the mutual realization that this was ridiculous. You didn’t know who cracked the smile first, but as Dean’s grew, so did yours, until you were grinning like idiots and erupting into laughter.

“You know, this isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted you wet and in my bed,” Dean raised his eyebrows and tossed you a sly wink.

“Yup, I’m doing it. I am killing you.”

“Dean I swear to God, if you keep me cooped up in this motel room for one more minute I am going to lose my mind.”

“Would you relax? Sam and I are almost back at the witch’s house. We’ll gank her, it’ll reverse the spell, you’ll be right as rain.”

“God I hope so. This is driving me up the wall. I will never watch another second of daytime TV after this.” With the press of a button, you hung up the phone and tossed it across the room onto the bed. This was getting seriously old.

While taking on a vengeful spirit case, you and the Winchesters had run into a particularly pesky witch. Long story short, she cast a spell at you, and none of you could figure out what it was. It was driving you crazy, and what was driving you crazier was that the boys had locked you in the motel room for two days while they tracked the witch back down. All around town, all over the area, until they finally caught her trail heading back to her own house. Where they had started.

The problem was, you felt fine. You really didn’t think there was anything wrong with you. You wanted to get out there and help them, do some research, go to the damn grocery store, literally anything. But Sam and Dean had insisted that the safest thing for you to do was to stay behind. We don’t know what she did to you, Y/N. It could be dangerous for you to leave. It’s better if you stay here and do absolutely nothing. It made sense, to an extent, you just weren’t very happy about it.

After a few hours and several more episodes of the most mind-numbing daytime talk shows you could imagine, you heard the sound of keys jingling and the motel door creeping open. In came Dean, wearing a strange expression on his face. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought it was fear.

“So? Ding dong, the witch is dead, I don’t have to blow my brains out?” You asked, more than ready to be done with the whole fiasco.

“Um.” Dean was avoiding eye contact. His hands slipped into his pocket and he sucked in a long, sharp breath.

“Dean.”

“So, uh, maybe…” He slipped a hand across his mouth, stalling his words. “Look, you might have to stick around here for one more day. We uh, think she might be in the town over, but we kind of lost her trail.”

On the car ride back to the motel, Dean had prepared for you to react by yelling, screaming, hitting, anything to unleash the anger he knew was coming. In fact, that was why Sam had waited in the car- to give him a little time to break the news. But in front of Dean was something much, much scarier. Your jaw was clenched, your gaze was distant, and your eyes narrowed. You were just… sitting there. The silence lasted for what felt like ages. It was enough to send the man spiraling. Finally, you looked up.

“Dean?”

“... Yes?”

“You better kill that witch tomorrow before I kill you.”

“Duly noted.”

Losing Sam had been just about the worst thing that could have ever happened to any of you. Watching him fall to his knees after Jake backstabbed him, Dean cradling him as the life finally slipped from his body… It brought you to tears just thinking about it. You had loved Sam like a little brother. But as much as it tore you up inside, his death had happened. So goes the life of a hunter. It was time to let Sam rest.

Dean, however, had still refused to make peace with the loss of his brother. It had been several days and Sam’s lifeless body was still laying out on a mattress. Dean just couldn’t let go. You and Bobby had begged him to let you lay Sam to rest, but he simply wasn’t having it. Dean was angry, defensive, and hurt, far deeper than you had ever seen. After conferring privately with each other, you and Bobby figured maybe it would be best to give him a little time alone with Sam, for closure’s sake.

So a day later when Sam Winchester, live and in the flesh, waltzed into the room to thank you and Bobby for patching up his wound without so much as a second thought, your heart dropped like a rock. The feeling that washed over you was worse than any grief you had felt this past week. Of course, it was amazing to have Sam back- it felt like a miracle. But miracles don’t just happen, especially not to Winchesters. And when you looked to Dean, he refused to meet your eyes.

Not wanting to alert Sam of the situation, you made an excuse to get Dean to follow you outside. You trudged as far as you could in silence, you not daring to look in his direction, until you knew you were out of earshot from the house.

“What did you do, Dean?” Your back was still turned, and your voice was hardly a whisper. You were surprised Dean could hear you at all.

“Y/N-”

“What did you DO? How long did they give you?” The question ripped from your chest, but you weren’t sure you were ready to hear the answer.

“A year.”

One year. You dropped to the ground. The gravel dug into your skin, but all your senses were numbed with hurt. You wanted to ask what made him think he could do this- to Bobby, to Sammy, to you? But when you opened your mouth to speak, the ache that resonated through your chest stifled the words.

Dean slid down next to you in silence. He wrapped a single arm around you, and you leaned your head into him. All you could do was cry silent, heavy tears. For what felt like hours, there was nothing you could say. The pit in your stomach swirled back and forth from anger to despair to fear, culminating in a blinding nausea. You looked up at Dean, who simply stared straight ahead. There was a staggering coldness in his eyes that drove the knife further into your core.

“God damn it Dean Winchester, I could just kill you myself, right now.”

“You’ll have to get in line, sweetheart.”

If you thought a few days without Sam had been bad, four whole months without Dean was your own personal hell. After Dean’s time was up, you couldn’t bear to be around anyone who reminded you of him. You hadn't spoken to Bobby or Sam or any other hunters- any other people, for that matter. You had practically dug yourself a grave, isolated from the world around you, lost and in the dark.

This was the worst hurt you had ever felt in your life. Four months later and the wound in your heart was just as fresh as the day it arrived there. Every time it began to heal, one wrong move and it started aching, throbbing, bleeding again. But at this point, the pain was all you had left of Dean. So you let it bleed.

The knock on the motel room door did nothing to stir you from your place in bed. It had been days, maybe a week, since you had risen for anything but your basic needs. You had called the front desk to extend your stay multiple times, running up a scammed credit card Dean had probably given to you at some point. There was nowhere else for you to go, so you laid down weary roots right here.

The knock persisted but you remained still. It could’ve been the police, the president, or the pope and you couldn’t have cared any less. Go away. There was a clanging noise followed by the shifting of the lock’s mechanisms. Whoever it was, they were breaking into your room. A few months ago, you would’ve jumped into action, but all of your hunter self-preservation instincts were long gone. Whoever it was could come in and take whatever they wanted and shoot you dead in the process. Maybe they’d be doing you a favor.

You rolled over in bed as the door creaked open, prepared to lay eyes on whoever was here to bring your demise. However, you were met with the one face that could have coaxed you out of the bed. The face you hadn’t seen in four months. The look in his eyes teemed with love and longing, which made your stomach churn.

“This is a real sick joke.”

“No, Y/N, it’s-”

For the first time since before Dean’s death, you snapped into hunter-mode, rising to your feet and snatching holy water and a knife from the bag under your bed in the process. It was a little slow, a little clumsy, and clearly a bit out of practice.

“You know, I was about to let whoever you were come right in and kill me. What reason do I have to stick around anymore? But this- this is just sick.” You laughed- your first laugh in months, and yet nothing was funny.

“It’s me, Y/N, I-”

“No. I’m going to kill you now.” And you lunged, splashing holy water with one hand and thrusting the knife with the other.

When Dean caught your hand before the knife could strike him, twisting your arm to defend himself from your lackluster attack, it took you longer than it should have to realize that the holy water hadn’t fazed him. Before it registered, you struggled against his grasp, but months of malnutrition and stagnant muscles had left you weak. You cried out as you fought, before fully dissolving into tears and dropping the knife in a mix of defeat and acceptance. Dean placed two heavy hands on your shoulders as if to ground you back in the moment.

“It’s me. I swear.” The beads of holy water that rolled off his face paralleled the tears that rolled off yours. Your hand reached up to wipe a droplet away- partially out of habit, partially to test that he was real, that he wouldn’t disappear at your touch. He didn’t. Instead, both his hands planted on your face, matching your movement.

“Oh, Dean.” That was the only way you could express it. Dean. Here, real, standing in front of you, and not a demon. Just pure Dean.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered, and it felt like home. He pulled you into a gentle hug, as if he harbored the same fear as you- that you may disappear beneath his very touch. But you were real, and so was he. You wouldn’t disappear, and neither would he. Dean was back, and because of that, you were back too.

“Good thing you didn’t kill me, right?”

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