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#poor girl needs to escape them
mydairpercabeth · 3 months
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FREE LEAH
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hamletthedane · 3 months
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I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.
What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.
What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.
What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.
The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.
And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.
But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.
I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.
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sturniolosstar · 5 days
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accident┆m.sturniolo
summary - matt accidentally does the knee thing while the two of you are making out <3
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pairing - matthew sturniolo x female reader
cw - suggestive, making out, mentions of sex, implied sex, humiliation, teasing, grinding, pet names, lowercase intended
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you paid no mind to the tightness of matt’s grip on your hips as he leaned above you, pressing your body further into the mattress beneath you.
you supported your weight by reclining on your elbows as you laid against his silk sheets, letting him rest in between your legs.
both your tongues lazily danced against each other as he cupped your cheeks, pulling your face implausibly closer to his.
your legs subconsciously widened as the kiss deepened, both of you being too lost in the moment to care how your bodies motioned.
you felt matt smile into the kiss, a reaction caused by the moan that escaped your lips. it wasn’t your fault though, it was his. it was because the nights you would return home from work would always end like this; the two of you down each other’s throats before he fucks you stupid. it wasn’t your fault you needed him.
in an attempt to be impossibly closer to you, matt moves his body further against yours, causing his knee to press against your clothed cunt.
at the sudden rush of pleasure, you cut the kiss short with a moan, your head turning to break the intimate moment.
immediately, matt turns your head in order for you to keep your eyes on him.
‘baby?’ worry laced his tone as he saw your state, eyes glossy and cheeks flushed.
‘are you okay?’ poor boy, he wasn’t aware of the fact that he was the reason for your sudden recoil. in an act of concern, he moves closer once again, resulting in his knee pressing harder against your pussy.
your face scrunches at the throb from your core, trying to avoid his gaze once again.
it didn’t take him long to realise, not when he looked down to see what was causing you to react like this. the confusion was quick to leave his face. instead, it was replaced with a shit-eating grin.
‘oh, honey…’ he coos, purposely pressing his knee harder as he rests his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses meeting. ‘is that too much for you?’
his tone is infused with faux concern as he pouts down at you, mocking your expression.
he giggles at the way you nod your head dumbly, your mind already too hazy for you to respond properly.
‘poor girl.’ he mutters, his fingers finding their way to your face once again. ‘if you can’t handle this, how will you take what m’ gonna give you after?’ he questions you as two of his fingers tap the side of your face expectantly.
‘i- i can take it!’
his brows furrow at the way you huff angrily, crossing your arms. ‘yeah? you sure, baby?’
‘mhm!’ your pout returns to your kiss swollen lips as your hips roll downwards onto his knee, your cunt receiving the exact stimulation that makes your mouth water.
he smiles at your action, his hands trailing from your face to your hips, clasping onto them as he helps you grind down onto his knee. ‘oh, look at you.’ he murmurs, eyes clouding with lust at the sight of you falling apart so quickly.
‘let’s see if you can truly take it then, hm?’
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taglist - @btwsturn @thesturniolos @mattsbratt69 @stramboli4life @ducksturniolo @st4rhubz @sturns-posts @sturniolo14 @sturnioloenthusiast @ivonchetooo1239 @littlebookworm803 @bellas-de3d @mattsneezing @sturniofilmd @athenamossymandella @mattslolita @ellie-luvsfics @st7rnioioss @qwertytit @33sturniolo @ilovechrissturniolo1 @muwapsturniolo @sturniolos-blog @realuvrrr @blahbel668 @sstvrnioloo @mattslutt @styles-sturniolo @wild4sturns @solarsturniolo @cypher-net @erikasurfer @pepsiluvr0209 @gamermattsgf @junnniiieee07 @stonermattsgf @55sturn @lookingformyromeo @nicksbestie @strombolilovr @imsosillygoofylol @riasturns @sturncakez
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moremaybank · 5 months
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thinking about rafe cameron giving his girl booty rubs. his large palms aren't nearly enough to hold the ample amount of flesh in them. in fact, this is the one time where they're incapable of taking up all the space available. he kneads the doughy flesh with strong hands, pulling them apart so he can sneak a peak at your folds. the more he squeezes and plays with the full cheeks of your bum, the more arousal he watches seep out of your hole. he bites at the cheeks, sinking his teeth deep enough to leave prints behind on your soft skin. he sucks harshly enough to leave behind hickies, slaps them to watch the blood rise to your skin and turn your flesh crimson and raw. his cock grows against his pelvis as it's restrained by the cotton of his boxers, jumping and straining to be nestled in the snug comfort of your sopping walls. he watches with pride as you rut your hips against the mattress beneath you, trying to gain friction against your poor, neglected clit. you whine out for him, begging for him to stop dragging out the foreplay and just satisfy you the way only he knows how. but he denies you as if it's nothing to him. his thumbs string along the insides of your cheeks, each time creeping closer and closer of your pussy. he spreads your folds, watching more slick pool from you until your core looks like a glazed dessert laid out just for him. glistening, awaiting his arrival. he can smell your sweetness, his tastebuds salivating the more he thinks about feeling you coat his tongue. "so wet, angel..." he breathes, the pad of his thumb pushing into you just slightly. "you need daddy's cock that bad?" he rises onto his knees, shoving his boxers out of the way and drawing his cock out. he lines himself up with your entrance. "bet if i just slipped myself inside..." he murmured, narrating his actions as he sheathed himself into you. he hissed in content, closing his eyes as he wet his lips. his balls kissed your bum, and he was elated by the cries escaping you. "see that? yeah. soaked 'n tight 'cause my whore needs to be fucked until she's broken."
concepts ; concepts ii
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lilacsandlillies · 1 month
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I was going through the anti Jason Todd tag because I hate myself and want to understand where people who dislike him are coming from and one thing I kept seeing was annoyance at Jason fans who claim that Jason is female coded and realized that the term “female coded” might not be the best term to describe what we mean.
A female coded character in literature and media typically means a character that has no specified gender or otherwise does not have a gender but is obviously meant to be a stand in for a woman or female. Kind of like how Starfire has no specified race (due to being an alien) but is still obviously black coded based on the way she’s drawn and treated by the narrative.
This is slightly different than what we mean when saying that Jason is female coded. It’s not that Jason is literally supposed to be a stand in for a female character, it’s that the way a lot of characters treat him and a lot of the tropes used on him are things that usually saved for female characters, not big buff men like Jason.
To start with, being Robin is narratively (or at least was) very similar to being a woman in a story. Robin is a role made to complement Batman (who we all know is basically the ultimate male power fantasy). Robin’s role is to be an accessory to Batman. Robin can be smart, but not smarter than Batman. Robin can be strong, but not stronger than Batman. Hell, Robin is often kidnapped and used as a literal damsel in distress, a role often regulated for women as a whole.
What sets Jason apart from the other robins (except for Steph) in this regard is that they were allowed to be characters outside of Batman. Dick might not have been the “man” of the story when he’s with Bruce, but when he’s with the teen titans suddenly he’s the smart one who has all the answers. Jason’s Robin was never really allowed this.
Then we get to the most, controversial, part of Jason’s female coding. The fact the he was effectively fridged. Fridging is usually only referred to as frigding if it’s a female character, but Jason’s death checks pretty much all the other boxes needed. An incredibly brutal death that was more about Bruce’s feelings on it than Jason himself.
This is especially apparent when compared to the other Bat characters. For all the female coding, the only other Robin to actually be fridged was Steph (and we all know about the misogyny surrounding her death). Barbara was also kind of fridged during the killing Joke. The only female character to escape this is Cass (to my knowledge). When you look at it through this lens, the fact that the only other characters to be permanently damaged like this for Bruce’s story are female, it’s not hard to see where the idea that Jason is female coded comes from.
You can even find this in Jason’s origin story. Poor little orphan is saved by benevolent billionaire is a role usually saved for little girls, like in Annie.
Despite what you might think, this even continues after Jason’s revival. Jason is still used less as a character and more as a motivation for Bruce. He’s regularly called emotional and hysterical (terms usually used to refer to women).
Jason is first and foremost a victim. A role performed by women in most media. Men are expected to be stoic and “rise above” the things done to them as to not be victims, as continuously shown by the way characters like Nightwing are not allowed to be effected by the horrific things they go through. The fact that Jason is shown the be angry, and sad, and emotional, constantly, and the fact that he’s punished and vilified for it puts him in a place much more similar to a female character.
There’s a reason that so many Jason fans (that like him for a reason past “antihero with guns”) are female. For most characters, when you swap their genders there would be a pretty clear and big difference in the way their story takes place. If you swap Jason’s gender, the story takes place identically.
A lot of this is best shown in men’s reactions to Arkham Knight’s version of Jason. In that game, Jason is similarly angry and emotional, albeit for slightly different reasons. He is also still unmistakably a victim. You’d think the men playing would like him. After all he’s a big cool angsty guy with a lot of guns and muscles. Instead, a lot of men’s thought that he was whiny. That his feelings were annoying.
There’s also something to be said about how his autonomy is regularly undermined by Bruce (specifically in Gotham war) and how his decisions and feeling are constantly treated as if they’re worth less than Bruce’s, but that’s a discussion for another day.
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sttoru · 9 months
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“DO NOT INTERRUPT.”
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༄ sypnosis. toji has bought you to his apartment for a quickie before he has to take on another job. toji’s agent, shiu, seems to interrupt the moment at the wrong time.
༄ note. listen i need them both in me okay.. don’t blame me f this .ehemmm, enjoy. this post contains smut. proceed at your own risk. part 2 here.
༄ tags. dom!toji x female reader. daddy kink, breast play, (implied) threesome, voyeurism, free use, dumbificiation, objectification, belly bulging, p in v — unprotected, you r not in a romantic relationship in this, toji is arrogant and a player ig, reader gets called ‘little girl, pretty, doll, sweet thing’
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“toji. we don’t have all day.”
a muffled, male voice echoes through the hallway of toji’s apartment. it was a voice which toji had grown to dislike; especially due to the fact that it has interrupted many intimate moments he had with his women.
an example of such moments being now. toji had invited you over for a quickie before he had to leave to take care of a bounty he accepted. he needed to relieve his stress somehow (especially due to the constant nagging from his agent).
“tsk,” toji grumbles a few incoherent curses under his breath as he continues to drill his cock into your cunt, “can’t ya let me enjoy my woman properly for once?”
“ah, fuck, yeah—take it.” the assassin grunts, this time to you as he forces your thighs further apart; an attempt to bully his swollen tip as far as it could reach.
you hadn’t even noticed the other manly voice which didn’t belong to toji, nor had you realised that the owner of that voice slowly started to come closer to the living room. you were too lost in the pleasure you were getting as the man on top of you rubbed a calloused finger over your clit.
the heavy footsteps of toji’s agent tapping against the wooden floor increased in frequency until they eventually stopped at the door; shiu leaned against the frame, one hand in his pocket while the other held a cigarette to his lips.
“that a new one?” shiu asks as he nods his head at you, who was clearly too busy to even notice his presence in the room.
shiu’s eyes shamelessly wandered across your naked body. as much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud, the erotic sight was making him forget about the job the two were supposed to get done by the evening.
his lazy gaze was focused on the way your cunt swallowed toji’s dick, your tits that bounced with every thrust and your glossy lips that babbled mindless words.
“yeah—shit, look at her, takin’ my cock so well.” toji eventually answers in a low groan, his grip on the back of your thighs tightening as to not give you the chance to escape, “gonna need to keep her ‘round so i can use her whenever.”
your blurry vision made it hard for you to see anything but toji clearly. your hands were desperately clinging onto his biceps which tensed each time you held or caressed them in the slightest.
your eyes slowly wandered from toji to the figure standing in the doorway. you couldn’t make out who it was.
“eyes on me, little girl.” toji scoffs, one hand coming up to forcefully turn your jaw so he’d be able to look into your teary eyes, “that’s it—lemme see those pretty eyes of y’rs as i fuck you, yeah?”
multiple whimpers reverberated throughout the living room as your poor body was pushed back on the couch due to toji’s massive weight leaning on top of yours. you could see the way the scarred corner of his lips curled into a smirk, completely enjoying the taste and view of your body.
“just like that, pretty. mhm, look at me.”
as toji continues to stretch out your little cunt—entirely ignoring his agent watching the two of you as always—shiu takes a long drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out.
as much as shiu wanted to deny that the sight had turned him on, the slight twitch in his pants said otherwise. the agent keeps his eyes on your body; shiu’d seen toji bring in many women before, however you and your high pitched moans that filled the air were too addictive. hypnotising almost.
though, shiu knew that at least one person in the room needed to stay rational. toji was obviously thinking with his dick and not his head at the moment.
“come on. time’s tick—” before shiu could finish his sentence, toji had already started to talk instead.
“shhh,” toji shushes his agent in slight annoyance, wanting nothing more than to enjoy you without having someone interrupting, “if ya ain’t gonna join, might as well shut it.”
that latter made shiu freeze in place a little, glancing from you to toji and back. shiu quickly clears his throat, rolling his eyes at the words uttered to him.
he takes a quick drag from his cigarette again, letting the ashes scatter on the floor. “i’d have to decline that offer.”
toji grins from ear to ear—eyes still focused on the way your body was quivering underneath him. his thick hand presses on your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of his dick on his palm.
“yeah? ‘re ya sure?” toji hums, finally averting his gaze from your curves to look at his agent. toji immediately knew that shiu was holding himself back, trying to play the ‘professional’ part.
a low, mocking scoff leaves toji’s lips before he looks back at you; slamming his hips against yours even harder, his heavy balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with each pump.
“i’m sure this sweet thing won’t mind being shared,” he adds, voice so sultry that it would be enough to put you in a trance, “right, doll?”
the only thing you were capable of doing was moaning and whimpering. you tried to answer him, however you cut yourself off once you felt toji flick his tongue over your nipple.
“mmh ! aah— nhh, t-toji, toji!” you repeated his name in such a sinful manner that made toji let out an arrogant laugh; he’s never failed even once to reduce the women he slept with to mindless toys who only know how to scream out his name.
“aww, can’t talk now, can ya?” toji snickers, “let daddy do the talking for ya, ‘kay? no need to have my little girl overstimulate herself.”
you nod at his words without second thoughts, drooling over yourself as your legs trembled from literally being pounded into the soft couch.
toji turns to his agent again, keeping the fast and quick tempo, the wet sounds of your own fluids mixing with his almost driving him to the edge. the loud sounds of his thrusts were impossible to ignore as well.
“i’m givin’ ya a nice opportunity here,” toji starts, swearing under his breath as he felt you tighten up around him once he hit that sweet spot inside of you.
“i ain’t the type to share my women, y’know? better make up y’r mind quick before ‘m done with her.”
shiu’s gaze flickers from your spent body to toji and then he sighs deeply. he flicks his cigarette to the side after thinking it through.
he doesn’t have much time to meet women any way. he might as well take the generous chance that was given to him.
shiu walks up to the two of you on the couch, his veiny hand already loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt.
“fine, but we have ten minutes.”
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r3ynah · 3 months
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Extended Family
DCxDP
An Au where, Maddie is Damian and Danyal, Biological mother besides Talia, Basically Talia and Maddie(+Jack) both grew up in LOA and were very best friends(lovers?? at some point including Jack). Talia wanted a natural birth for her son, as she was not really fond of the idea of a test tube baby. so she asked Maddie a favour to become a surrogate. which Maddie happily accepted. because of her experience with Jazz and Danyal's birth, Talia was sure Maddie can give birth to her son safely.
This was approved by Ra's Because he deemed Maddie as someone that could be trusted due to her becoming one of the most strongest and smart assassins in the LOA(He was fond of her, like really really fond.) So he accepted his daughter proposal for Maddie to become the surrogate.
And then Damian was born, Jazz and Danny basically loved Damian and would not go anywhere but the baby's side. Jack loved taking care of Damian due to Maddie and Talia not knowing how to take care of a baby with physical affection.(basically house husband behavior,).
As the kids grew they become closer through the years until you know, it wasn't safe for them in the LOA anymore so they helped Damian escape first to his Bio dad's place(They did let him pick though, if he wanted to stay with the fenton-nightangles or go to Bruce, he chose the latter because if something happened to them he'll have connections.) and then Maddie and Jack escaped with their children in a random town named Amity park. which turns out was a hotspot for Lazarus pits or Ectoplasm. (They decided to change the name cause everytime Jack hears the word pits he started laughing).
The children of course never severed their communication throughout the years. And Bruce never asked about his life at the LOA so he never introduced his half siblings.
Damian hated his older brother, Danyal with all his might. if you asked him to choose between his Half-sister Jazz or Danyal. He'll choose Jazz in a heartbeat.
He hated him, because of his foolishness and absolute neglect of his surroundings, making him a easy prey amongst people who wants to take advantage of him. He disliked Danyal's poor choices in life especially now.
The youngest wayne stood in the middle of one of the many hallways of his highschool as he stared at a certain, black haired and blue eyed girl, who was waving at him ecstatically, he contemplated if he should fight the girl head on or just run and escape.
Obviously in this situation he would pick the most desirable option to make sure his day wasn't ruined by his older brother, so he picked the latter. Damian dashed through the hallways, making sure to lose the girl before the third period started. He slowed down as he looked warily at his surroundings his back against the storage room incase he needed a hiding place from that test tube spawn.
When suddenly a pair of arms phased through the door embracing Damian as he tried to escape.
The girl giggled as she kept her hold on the older boy who tried to get her off him. "Hi uncle Damian!"
she greeted as she finally let go making space for the boy to take a step back.
"Danielle. Why are you here, Did Danyal send you to pester me?" He glared at his niece, as he kept his guard up.
"Kind of, mama sent me here to check up on you." She explained "You kinda went MIA when you stopped answering his texts and calls."
"This is absurd, I can take care of myself. him thinking something happened to me for not answering his calls is offending, I am not like him." Damian stated as he finally lowered his guard. And started to walk away expecting for Elle to follow to which she did.
"Eh.. You know him, His just paranoid he always is" Elle exclaimed as she looked at her schedule. "What's your next class Uncle?"
"Math."
"Ooh Yey! We're classmates, let's sit together!"
A groan left Damian as Elle chuckled and continued to look at her class schedule beside him, Peaceful quietness welcomed the two as they walked to their shared class.
——
"Do you have a apartment nearby?" Damian asked as he stood up from his table waiting for Elle as she packed her notebooks, only filled with doodles from both party.
"Nope, Mama requested that we move here for easier transport but i didn't wanna bother with all the moving stuff." Elle explained as she finished tidying up. "Beside I can just fly back and forth, what's the use of my powers if I can't abuse em."
"Your logic is as worse as Danyal." Damian exclaimed as they both headed out the door. "Follow along. you'll be staying at my manor this week."
"Why?" Elle asked suspiciously
"Because, It is a tiring job to use your flight ability for something so stupid." The boy explained.
"Is that really all?"
"Ofcourse not, As your uncle it's my job to keep you energized and unbothered, But as your mother's brother its my duty to annoy him for thinking i was in danger. so I'm basically taking you hostage at the manor." Damian grinned, as he took his niece's hand to make sure she doesn't get lost through the maze of hallways
"So basically kidnapping? I'm in."
——
"Master Damian, welcome home." Alfred greeted as he opened the front door. "And who might you be?"
"Hello Alfred, This is Danielle your Great-granddaughter." Damian said, making Alfred raise his eyebrows slightly before returning to his relaxed state.
"Well, nice to meet you Lady Danielle" Alfred greeted with a smile, as he shook her hand.
"Please call me Elle, Alfred" Elle brightly smiled
"Very well then Lady Elle." Alfred chuckled.
"Is father home yet?" Damian asked
"No not yet master Damian, you two may go to the living room as I prepare the guest room for Lady Elle." Alfred exclaimed as he headed to the kitchen to finish what he was doing.
Elle looked at Damian, Damian looked at Elle.
"I can feel my phone vibrating from my bag." She laughed. Her mother Danny was certainly going to be sad that his little brother kidnapped his daughter for a Uncle and niece Hangout.
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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More on the poor girl who’s 141’s chewtoy?
She has the worst fate!! Being a pet wife/incubator for one monster is bad enough, but it can be manageable if your new owner isn't an asshole and doesn't treat you like a lifeless object. It's a rare case, sure, but even Konig is somewhat softer after you get his eggs, the mating instincts in monsters are all kicking in. The 141 however...I love to see them as a pack of different breed shifters, maybe were-creatures like bears, wolves, and various birds...they all have this semi-animalistic mentality, they formed a pack bond that is stronger than any blood relations. They are more than family and it's only natural that they share the same darling, yes? Unfortunately for you, it is only natural for them, and you're soon getting dragged from the human pet shop by an excited overgrown werewolf with a dumb mohawk that chirps about getting such a pretty girl for his team!! You are never alone - every time other team members are on a mission, the other ones take care of you, always keeping watch over your silly escape attempts like humans have any future in the monster world now( Gaz is usually the one who is softer with you, his nature as a werebird is making him somewhat more caring, he will drag you a lot of shiny gifts and flashy clothes because he is pretty and he wants his girl to be pretty! Soap is usually the one to always fuck you, unfortunately. Being a classic werewolf, he is too fucking horny for his own good, always stuck in a knot with you, always mating and hoping that you will give birth to healthy pups, even though he is somewhat sad they are mostly taken away for the training needs( his pack mentality is strong, so if you really really really want at least some of your children to stay with you, you should beg Soap to allow you to see them occasionally - he would gladly steal the pups back to base, but it would mean you won't give him as much attention(
@ceilidho mostly inspired me for this, but werebear!Price is literally perfect and I won't stand for otherwise. He is big, burly, with a soft tummy and warm hands that would easily push you down, ass up in the air because you were a naughty little incubator and whined too much about Soap and Gaz being too rough( he knows your limits, and also knows that they are spoiling you too much! You need some discipline and your bear captain is gladly providing you with spanks that make your ass raw, with his teeth and a dick that takes away your ability to walk at least for a few days( he is older than every other member of the pack, and he won't really bother you too much with sex - he knows you're tired, especially if you're pregnant, and he enjoys slow cockwarming sessions and just laying in the nest with you, false hybernating on your swollen, milk-filled breasts.
Ghost is...complicated. You don't even know what type of shifter he is at first, he is too fucking secretive to even talk about it. Only after a few involuntary breakdowns, could you catch a glimpse of his shadowy form - whatever animal-type monster he was, staid in the past. He is all shadows now, dark and glossy with smoke tendrils that help him handle you in place every time you become too squirmy. You were so convinced Simon hated you at first, just a dumb human who disrupts the balance of their pack, but your fears were proven wrong once you were pressed against a wall, thick dark tendrils squeezing in and out of your pussy. Ghost is the only one who can't breed you, and it only makes him more protective whenever you're pregnant.
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innieandsungielover · 2 months
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Restless Nights
a/n: some horny thoughts ig pairing: Bf!Chan x afab!Reader wc: .4k cw: unprotected sex, cumming inside, consensual somnophilia
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He slowly fucks into you, his cock hitting your cervix as you slowly wake up from your daze, rubbing your eyes.
"Go back to sleep baby, you can do that for Channie, can't you?" he whispered into your ear before kissing your forehead.
"I can do that for daddy" you whimpered, your eyes shutting close as he ran his fingers across your nipples.
"There we go, such a good girl for daddy" he grinned before thrusting back into you harder.
"Such a good girl, taking my cock even in your sleep" he whimpered out loud, not even caring that you were too drowsy to understand the words that were escaping his plump lips.
He was grateful to have you, his good little girl, allowing him to fuck you whenever he wants, especially on days like this when he is stressed out because he can't seem to get things working right.
He slowly pulled his finger down to your clit, the other one on your ass, pushing you deeper into him. He needed you to cum, needed to feel the way your walls clenched around his cock.
He slowly felt the fluttering of your walls as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on them as he listened to whimpers escaping your lips.
His cock twitched inside of you, signaling to your asleep fucked out body that he was going to cum.
He couldn't stop his pounding, your poor cunt taking his fat cock, each snap of his hips thrusting deeper and deeper until your walls sucked him in, your cunt cumming on his throbbing cock.
He wasn't far behind, overstimulating your body as he came inside of you, his warm cum covering your walls as he moaned into your neck, sucking on the skin, trying to release himself from his high, he stilled inside of you, your cunt drinking each drop of his cum.
He didn't leave your cunt, but instead stayed in it, pulling your body closer to yours, covering his tired body as well as yours with his comforter.
You were his perfect little girl.
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jinnxedy · 3 months
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needy leon
disclaimer: not proofread, smut, 18+ content, mdni!, just sexual stuff.
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✩⃝ ok, so imagine Leon coming back to your shared home, all needy, stressed and horny for you.
✩⃝ Poor guy has been away from you for weeks, you being the only thing that kept him going.
✩⃝ Masturbating to you whenever he had the chance to, moaning and chanting your name over and over again, hoping you could magically appear out of nowhere.
✩⃝ Still, it wasn't enough for his needy self, he needed to fuck you so, so bad.
✩⃝ Imagine the joy he felt when he was finally able to come back home, to be able to hold you and touch you after so many days.
✩⃝ Leon is just smothering you to death. As soon as he saw you, he kissed you with such hunger and neediness.
✩⃝ He was touchy, sloppy, and very, very vocal.
✩⃝ You could even hear him sighing and whining, finally having you in his arms.
✩⃝ His hands groping and gripping every part of your body so hard, leaving red hand marks all over.
✩⃝ You weren't a stranger to this behavior from him, Leon always got like this when he came back from such long missions.
✩⃝ And of course, you loved it. You loved the attention he instantly gave you, you loved seeing him like this.
✩⃝ It wasn't long before he picked you up and took you to the bed, he wasn't gonna wait more than he already has.
✩⃝ He had you pinned under him, his body weight keeping you there, but it wasn't like you were trying to move. You needed this too, you were as desperate as he was.
✩⃝ You could feel his dick pressing up against your thighs as he rolled his hips against them as his face was pressed against your neck, his mouth open while groans and moans escaped, his warm breath hitting your skin.
✩⃝ In a matter of seconds he had you both naked, rapidly thrusting his dick into your tight, wet pussy.
✩⃝ The sound bed frame hitting the wall and the bed creaking competing against your's and Leon's moans.
✩⃝ He kept whispering things into your ear in such a husky tone as he rammed his dick inside you.
✩⃝ "so fucking good", "take it, just take it", "fuckfuckfuck", "good girl"
✩⃝ You couldn't help but moan frantically as he talked, you two were too far gone.
✩⃝ Didn't take long for Leon to cum inside you and for you to climax, but he still wasn't satisfied.
✩⃝ This kept going, and he wasn't gonna stop until he was satiated.
✩⃝ It's safe to say your night was filled with multiple orgasms and overstimulation thanks to Leon's needy ass.
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sorry for being kinda inactive, uni's been killing me lately. anyway, I was hoping to turn this into a longer/more detailed fic if you guys want??? don't be afraid to interact!! I hope y'all like this :))
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pinkcarnatixns · 1 month
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leah williamson | on your side
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synopsis your girlfriend gives you enough attention to last a lifetime when you wake up with your period [2K] contents more bf! leah, menstrual pain, slightly suggestive?
Waking with piercing abdominal pain and the morning sun barely shining through your curtains, you dreaded the familiar feeling in your gut.
Even worse than the dull ache of your abdomen was having to leave the warm cocoon your girlfriend had created around you while you both slept. Propping yourself up on one elbow from where you had been laid on her chest, you tried to jostle her sleeping form as little as possible. At the slight adjustment, she let out a series of angry grumbles, your body freezing up at the sound. 
You waited for a tense moment, subconsciously holding your breath as the crease between her eyebrows softened back out and her hands relaxed where they had been touching your naked waist. Peeling her arms off your body carefully, you took care to watch that her even breath didn’t change as you manhandled her enough to let you escape unnoticed. Watching her calm expression, golden hair splayed out manically around her, you felt a flash of frustration at the time with your girlfriend that biology had robbed you of this morning. 
Slipping out of bed, the change of temperature nipped at your exposed skin, clad in only a bralette and small shorts so as to not burn up next to your personal space heater. Desperate to return to your koala of a girlfriend and the affection you had been promised for the day off, you opted out of a sweatshirt and briskly padded over to your adjacent bathroom. What you hadn’t accounted for was the lightheadedness that accompanied the action, and as black spots danced in your vision, you grabbed onto the cold counter for support as you guided yourself down to the floor.
Anticipating passing out, you were surprised at the familiar, tender caress of Leah’s hands on your arms. Her touch helped ground you, and as your vision cleared it was to the sight of her crouched over you, looking terribly worried. Her next words were so gentle you nearly missed them, not wanting to spook you. “Hey love, you back with me?”
You slowly nodded your head, not wanting to be any dizzier, and let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry I woke you Lee, just stood up too fast and got a head rush.” 
Usually being the one to coo over her and adoring taking care of the girl, you always hated making her worry. On many occasions, if Leah thought there was anything slightly off with you, she would drop anything and everything to dote over you- usually meaning that her dignity was the first to go. You were constantly teased for her actions when that side of her came out at training, quick to blush at your teammates’ poor caricatures of your girlfriend’s sappiness. 
Truth be told, you still got nervous butterflies when your girlfriend’s full attention was on you, even with nobody else around. However, you had both agreed to a time where you needed extra attention- your period. Leah, also dealing with debilitating cramps and other side effects of her endometriosis, knew what you needed and was quick to drop anything for you the same way you had done countless times for her. 
Her eyes flitted around your body, like she was looking for what was troubling you. Normally she knew when your period was going to come before you even did, but for it to come at this time was highly unusual. “What’s wrong honey?”
“I think I’ve got my period. I wanted to just deal with it and go back to bed.” You sighed, eyes welling up a bit at the embarrassment of having to be rescued from the bathroom floor and the frustration of it having to deal with it when you weren’t due for another week.
She took you into her arms, and you let out a relieved shaky breath at her just smelling like Leah. The faint scent of her shampoo and soap helped greatly to ground you, but as she pulled away slightly you kept your eyes on the tile, shy under the weight of her worried gaze. Her nail tickled the underside of your chin as she prompted you to meet her eyes, yours still a bit misty. 
Taking her appearance in, you giggled wetly and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. Your girlfriend, for all of her beauty, had her fringe sticking up wildly at different angles- looking like she had been electrocuted. To her chagrin, this had upped your mood greatly, the confused look that graced her face at your uncontrollable laughter spurring on your giggles even further. Calming down, your lips stay upturned in what you’re sure is a horribly lovesick smile as you reach your hands up to tenderly brush her hair back into place with your fingers. Letting them fall to the side of her face, you can’t help yourself but to drag the blonde into a heartfelt kiss, leaving her to bracket your legs with her arms to avoid toppling over at your sudden enthusiasm. 
Pulling away, her face is left rosy at her realization of her previous appearance and at the tender act of affection so early in the morning-  breaking out in a matching dopey smile. Delicately removing herself from your intermingled bodies, she stands and holds her hands out to you. “All right giggly, how about you get cleaned up and we can still have some cuddle time?”
You nod as she delicately helps you to her feet, leading your hands behind her back and letting them go to wrap around you once again- fondly kissing the top of your head as you embrace. In a similar state of undress to you, her bare skin feels wonderful against yours and staves off the slight chill from the cold bathroom tile. Reluctant to break apart, she looks you up and down once again before kissing your cheek for good measure and leaving you. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be in the kitchen.”
You snort at the thought of your girlfriend’s cooking abilities, and can hear her yell as she makes her way through your shared apartment. “I heard that!” 
Exiting the bathroom, you feel warm at the sight of the bed made, your favorite sweater of hers perched atop the endless blankets that are normally kicked off in favor of your lover’s body heat. Slipping it on and already missing the blonde, you’re happy to find her exactly where she promised.
“All set?” She's stood in front of the stove, and your hands snake around her middle, nodding your head from its resting place between her shoulder blades. Trying to glance at what she’s making from your position, you tiptoe to look over her shoulder but can’t quite get a glimpse. Finding that venture useless at her height and your unwillingness to detach from her to get a proper view, you nuzzle back into your previous position but miss the earlier feeling of her skin on yours. 
You’re suddenly very glad for the oversized nature of the sweater she slipped on, as you suddenly slide under the back of it, making her jump at your cold hands. Letting out a satisfied hum at her soft skin warming your forehead, you’re jostled at the way her laughs echo throughout her whole body. “Someone’s clingy today huh?”
You pinch her, making her jump, and your voice comes out muffled from under the fabric. “You promised me cuddles and are now depriving me of them. Don’t think you’re so funny.”
“Come on out grumpy, you have to eat first and then I promise you can get all the cuddles you want.” She coos at you, and you consider pinching her again for her condescending tone but leave the warm cocoon you had created anyways. She turns around, resting her hands on your hips and stunning you with her sly smile that gets her out of the trouble she always finds herself in. 
The content that spreads all the way through to your toes is broken when she abruptly places her hands much lower, on your thighs- and hoists you up against her before placing you gently on the counter. You yelp at the action, and smack her arm. “Leah! A little warning would be appreciated!” 
The cold bite of the countertop is quickly quelled by the heat emanating from the stove she’s sat you next to. You’re about to complain further before she shuts you up with a hand on your thigh, causing you to suddenly feel much warmer. She shoots you a smirk at the way your words die on your tongue, and you half-heartedly roll your eyes at her, not very convincing with the way your lips can’t help but curl up at the edges. “No more complaints from the missus I see!”
She smiles wider at your lack of response, beginning to rub circles into your skin with one hand, as she turns back to stirring with the other. You glance over at what she’s making and are pleasantly surprised at what looks to be a pretty good assortment for breakfast sandwiches. You soften at the sight of cut up avocado adorning your beat-up cutting board, the girl forever hating anything green but paying attention to your love. Your gaze drifts back to your girlfriend to find her staring intensely at the eggs she’s stirring around, clearly trying her hardest to not let them get too… crispy.
You admire her in the comfortable silence that’s instigated by her concentration, furrowing her brow while placing ingredients gently atop one another. Momentarily, your gaze is brought to her hands as she turns the stove off, moving to dexterously put everything into place. You Blame your heightened hormones for your momentary distraction, as if you aren’t always smitten for the other girl no matter what she does. 
Broken out of your daydreaming, she appears in front of you proudly, plate in each hand. You resist the urge to laugh at the way yours is teetering slightly, stacked with almost everything in the kitchen that she knows you enjoy. “Voila! A meal fit for a queen.”
Grateful for her work but also just wanting to be close to the girl, you peck her lips gratefully while stealing your own plate and traveling over to the dining table- her hand gripped tightly in yours. Standing next to her, she quirks a confused eyebrow at you as you prompt her to sit down first. As she does, you place your plate next to her, and promptly sit down right in her lap. 
She laughs, but is quick to steady your hips with her hands, maneuvering you onto one of her thighs so that she still has space to eat her own breakfast. “Well hello there beautiful lady! A hello would’ve been nice but I’m sure not complaining.”
“Well I guess when I see such a handsome woman I really just can’t help myself! You can’t blame me!” You punctuate your jest with a pout, moving to place a sweet kiss to her lips before turning to your food. She melts at the gesture, frozen in a stare at your preoccupied form. At the weight of her loving gaze, you once again pinch her, a lot softer than your earlier attack. Snapping out of her stupor, one of her hands reaches for her fork while the other creeps under your sweater- returning to soothing motions over your aching muscles.
Barely able to keep your hands off each other, you both finish your meals in record time, the plates abandoned as you drag her back to your bedroom. Needless to say, she more than fulfills her earlier promise, and for the rest of the day you only leave her arms when she insists on getting you medicine or water. Falling asleep after the fifth movie of the day, you’re sure that she’s the best medicine on the market.
a/n: happy leah day everyone!! this was a super sweet request i couldn't help but to write. they are still open!
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frogchiro · 3 months
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Huh… I’ve always imagined Graves as a coyote or dingo. 😂 I imagine him and silver fox Makarov just snapping jaws and fighting each other for pretty kitty reader. Makarov just thinks Graves is no better than those mindless mutts while the latter just thinks he can definitely provide better for the pretty kitty. It doesn’t help that both chase after, in a competitive manner, kitty reader at nights on the field or around the barn before the dogs takes notice.
Oh yeah they are awful, territorial shits and while both are wild hybrids they still butt heads like crazy😭
Makarov sees in Graves just another stupid mutt who thinks only with his dick, that the only thing on his mind is to spread his seed, breed you with a litter and then off to another adventure while Phil is convinced that Vladimir would never be able to provide for you as well as he could. While similar in size, the coyote is stockier and stronger therefore he could withstand everything the wild would throw at him while Makarov only results to theft and trickery >:(
And yes the chasing is the worst :(( Saliva dripping from their mouths, sharp fangs on display and their cocks hard and leaking as they chase the poor Kitty all around the fields in the dark of the night, laughing and snapping their jaws at the yowls and noises their girl makes as she tires to run as fast as she can but little does she know that it actually turns them on even more :((
Their hormones are raging, testosterone is through the roof and every instinct of theirs is taken over by the primal need to catch the escaping female, make her all nice and soft and submissive before stuffing her full of their knots and spurting all that thick cum inside her, is that so much to ask?
Unfortunately for both Philip and Vladimir, the commotion woke up both Soap and Ghost who came barreling forward after them, barking, growling and yelling their heads off ad chasing the wild hybrids away; Simon's maw almost chomping down on Philip's tail, that fucking bastard.
And now both the coyote and fox were chased from the farm, now having to watch from the outside while panting and catching their breath as the big guard dogs check on you and herd you away back to the barn while Graves and Makarov are left in the middle of the night tired with wounded prides and aching cocks </33
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subbypeterparker · 5 months
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need loser!hazel callahan humping the readers thigh
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just thinking of Hazel enjoying being on top of you, little gasps and moans escaping her lips when your thighs encase her waist, pulling her in closer. your hands are buried in her hair, pulling slightly on those beautiful soft locks.
“jesus baby, your lips feel so good,” she can’t help but whimper, words slightly drowned out by your tongue in her mouth as you hum in agreement. her hands are stroking small circles on the waist band of your shorts, cold rings sending chills through your body. your breathing has sped up a bit, and and Hazel can feel your heartbeat hammering under your skin.
your thigh suddenly slots between her legs, rubbing slightly on the heat in between them, earning you a moan when Hazel feels pressure being added to her clit. you’re both wearing thin matching sleep shorts, and as cute as you both think they are, there’s no denying the thin material leaves sensations easy to feel.
you pull away slightly, just enough so you can see her half-lidded eyes full of lust, her lush lips puffy and wet, and her cheeks flushed from the continuous movements of your thigh. “fuck Hazel, you look straight out a wet dream-” you sigh out as her head ducks down to press her soft lips onto your neck, tongue tracing over marks left over from the previous night.
you can’t help but roll your hips up, accidentally causing your thigh that’s between her legs to jerk up, pressing the seam of her shorts directly on her clit. she moans out, leaning back up to press her lips back onto yours, panting and moaning when you’re still moving your thigh against her cunt.
you notice the little noise she lets out, and smirk against her lips, pushing her hips down and applying more pressure, until she moans out against your lips. her hips begin moving on their own, grinding slowly against your thigh. “baby, you can go faster if you want..” you purr out. poor Hazel’s brain goes completely numb after that, as soon as she realizes that moving her hips faster makes her feel better.
“didn’t think…this would feel…so good-” she lets out against your lips, breathing increasing as she grinds down harder. you can’t help but let out your own groans, seeing your beautiful girl fall apart above you. she’s so wet at this point, you can feel her slick coming through her panties and shorts, and let out a lewd moan of your own.
“baby, take off your pants, please,” you breathlessly let out. her forehead rests against yours while she reaches down to quickly pull down her boxers and shorts in one go. a string of her slick connects her pussy to her panties, and your mouth immediately starts watering. the cold hair hits her wet folds, and she whimpers out at the sensation.
Hazel repositions herself so your legs can lay comfortably splayed apart, knees raised so she can straddle your thigh. your hands are quick to move to her waist, pulling her against the soft skin of your plush thighs. her wet cunt comes in contact with your bare leg, and she throws her head back at the first second of contact her clit has with your bare skin.
you let her sit there, so pretty for you with her cunt exposed to you, and her hips slowly jutting so she’s grinding against you. “good girl, there you are,” you let out, licking your lips at the sight of her. her eyes zero in on your lips as her hips begging moving faster and faster, and she leans down quickly to press fast and breathless kisses on your lips.
your thigh is now drenched with her slick, her hips moving more sporadically than before. “fuck, i’m already close,” she feels so pathetic saying that, but the more wet she becomes, the easier it is for her to slide along your thigh, and the closer she feels to cumming.
“please baby, cum all over me, please,” you pant out into her mouth. her arousal all over your leg feels like heaven, and you need to see her cum from just grinding on your thigh. Hazel angles her hips so that when she thrusts her hips, her clit can deliciously rub against the outlines of your leg muscles.
her mouth opens against yours, a warning she’s about to cum, and you’re quick to praise her with a little “please Hazel, you’re doing so good, cum for me baby, please.”
her thighs jerk and shake against your own thighs, and your hand moves to rub against her clit, sending her over the edge. she lets out quiet moans and sobs as the pressure in her stomach builds until her legs still, and she’s cumming all over your thigh.
“that’s it baby, that’s my good girl,” you pant out, rubbing her hips, which are lazily jutting against your thigh as she comes down from her high. Hazel’s head drops down into the crook of your neck, continuing to let out little moans while she accidentally overstimulates herself. “shhhh baby, it’s okay, you did so good,” you whispered in her ear, pressing kisses into her hair.
she lets out little giggles as she lifts her head up, her hips having stopped their desperate movements. “wow, didn’t know it was possible to cum from that,” she laughs. her face is even more red than before, bangs sticking to her sweaty forehead. but her eyes are shining, clearly elated from her orgasm.
you look at her, face hanging right in front of yours, mirroring the adorable smile she wears on her pink lips. “i know right…how many more do you think you have in you?” you smirk, pulling her in for another kiss.
you don’t miss the way she blushes and shifts her hips in excitement.
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sttoru · 2 months
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER I: you finish your last lecture of the day and head to get dinner before returning to your dormitories. you stumble upon an injured figure on your way home, laying in a dimly lit alley. despite the fear in your heart, you decide to reach out towards the unknown man in need of help.
wc. 3.7k
tags. assassin!toji x female reader. sfw; fluff-ish, angst. reader's best friend oc appearance (yona). mentions of murder, blood, knives, anxiety. general warnings for all parts of the series: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's).
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ten seconds. you shut down your laptop and close it. nine seconds. you put your laptop in your tote bag. eight seconds. you close your books and do the same. seven seconds. you put your coat on. six seconds. you check your phone for any messages.
five seconds. you’re thinking about what to eat once you arrive home. four seconds. you decide on a pack of noodles. three seconds. you realise that you’ve ran out of them. two seconds. you make up your mind to go to your local supermarket. one second. you stand up from your seat.
“..that’s all, students. have a nice day and i’ll see you at our next lecture.”
a sigh of relief escapes your lips. you’re finally freed from the shackles of your statistics class. not like you’ve paid much attention to what your professor had been yapping about anyway. it was too boring. the daydreaming you did about your potential future boyfriend and all the cheesy romantic stuff you’d do together was all the more important.
“earth to my best friend,” your friend’s voice snaps you back into reality. you look to your side and find yourself apologising for not hearing her the first time. yona chuckles and waves her hand dismissively.
“i asked if you had any plans after the lecture,” she continues whilst scrolling through her phone. you take a peek at her screen and notice that she’s already looking up available restaurants in the area.
you’re grateful that she’s looking out for you in her own way, but you’ve already made up your mind. a pack of your favorite ramen noodles will fill you for tonight. you’re low on cash this month anyway. a fancy restaurant would have you surviving on water for the rest of the week.
“ah, i actually do. gotta go grocery shopping ‘n stuff,” you pout apologetically before buttoning up your coat. yona nods in understanding, knowing the struggles of being a college student.
“aww, all right. we’ll go next time then,” she replies with a smile.
you walk out of the building with your friend by your side, chatting about how boring the lecture was. of course, you also learn all about the recent gossip around campus. yona is practically your plug for that.
“did you hear about that one girl that allowed her boyfriend to stay with her in her dorm room for a whole month and then got snitched on by her roommate?” yona snickers, not caring if anyone around you could hear the gossip.
you raise an eyebrow in surprise. your university has strict rules about guests staying over in the dormitories. they can spend a day or two, but you’d have to sign them in. plus the resident assistants usually check the rooms for any unusual activity every other week.
to hear someone had gotten away for a whole month is quite a surprise.
“he could’ve stayed for longer if it wasn’t for the roommate snitching,” yona continues and rolls her eyes. she takes a quick snack from her bag and bites into it.
you shake your head and shrug, making sure you don’t trip and fall down the stairs whilst you’re talking, “guess the roommate got enough of the random man in their room. i mean—they pay for that room as well. not like the girl is the only one living there.”
yona nods and turns a right. you follow, your eyes scanning the busy hallways. some students are rushing between the crowd to catch their train and others are making their way to their next two hour lecture. those poor souls.
“mhm. i wouldn’t wanna live with a man i don’t know either,” yona eventually adds after swallowing the last bite of her snack, “let alone for a whole month.”
she throws the wrapper in a nearby garbage can—which is overly full already. talk about a ‘hygienic’ school.
“right,” you shiver as the thought gets put into your head. a random man living with you. . . sounds like a nightmare. you’ve heard enough stories about how dirty they can be. in both the physical and mental aspects.
after some walking - and getting annoyed by random people who block your way due to how slow they’re moving - you reach the exit of the building. yona stretches her arms and grabs her phone before turning to you.
“anyway, see you later, hun!” she enthusiastically gives you a hug. you return the affectionate gesture with a gentle smile, rubbing her back. you exchange your last words before both going your own ways.
music plays in your ears as you walk down the street. the wind blows against your face. it’s a cold day. you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to rain in a bit.
‘gotta be fast’, you think. you are not carrying an umbrella with you, so you’d have to hurry back with your groceries. your legs pick up their pace and pass all traffic as fast as they can.
it takes you quite a while to get to your destination. that’s the drawback of living in such a packed city like tokyo. there is no way to move, especially in the evening, when everyone is returning home.
you reach a crosswalk and wait for the light to turn blue. whilst you’re waiting next to a bunch of people, your eyes wander across the scenery. from the huge billboards to your right to the multiple cars to your left.
your gaze stops at one specific billboard. it’s playing some of the latest news. a recent incident had taken place just a few kilometres north from your university. three people had been found cruelly murdered in their apartments.
the definite cause of their deaths is still unknown. there wasn’t any sign of a forced entry, even when reports say that all three victims had been killed in the same way.
they speculate that the person involved must have been quite skilled—someone who’s done this multiple times before. there are absolutely zero traces of them left neither. the only reason they’re able to conclude that it is indeed a homicide, are the similar wounds left on the victims’ bodies.
another comment from the investigation team shows that there might be a survivor who’s escaped the cold blooded killer. that person is now considered missing.
the police are still thoroughly investigating the matter; that’s all you get to know before the news reporter moves on to the next subject.
you look down at your shoes. such scary stuff does make you afraid. you’re living on your own after all. you’d be less scared if you had a roommate, but you currently don’t.
some call you lucky for that since it’s a rare occurrence, yet you still wish you had someone living with you. that would make walking back home at night less stressful.
the increase of footsteps around you makes you realise that the light turned blue—a sign for you to cross the street. you eventually reach the other side. you tilt your head back, anxiously staring at the sky.
‘please don’t, please don’t, please don’t,’ you chant in your head. like the weather is going to listen to your desperate pleas. you rush inside of the supermarket.
you’ve been here often enough to know which products are in what aisle. you scurry over to the ramen, grabbing two packs. you get a few snacks along the way. unhealthy crap, that’s what you’re surviving on.
you stand in line at the cashier. you tap your shoe and bite your lip, your gaze fixated on the sky outside. you beg god to give you just a few more minutes. a few more minutes of drought.
you check your phone and go through your recent notifications to kill time. you swipe left on almost all of them—none being time sensitive or urgent anyway.
you greet the cashier politely once it’s your turn and allow him to scan your products for you. you await for him to announce your total before handing him your debit card. your eyes flicker over to the television hanging right behind the cashier’s head.
that gruesome news again. twice in a row. you shiver and try not to think about it. your mind is already overthinking the entire thing; what if you’re next?
well, that should be the least of your worries. you grab the plastic bag and walk to the exit of the supermarket, taking a deep breath. what you actually should be worried about is getting home dry.
“just my luck,” you mutter under your breath. your prayers are left unanswered as the first few drops of rain fall on your head. you kiss your teeth in annoyance.
you can’t help but silently agree as a couple walks past you, complaining about the sudden change of weather. you watch as a few more people rush past you with their bags above their head.
looking at the bright side of things, you won’t be the only one who’s running home with a bag as a shield against the rain and wind.
you take a deep breath again and mentally prepare yourself for the quick journey you’re going to make. you look to the left and then the right. when the coast is clear, you dash into the direction of your dormitory.
the rain is not letting up. you rush past a few people, those carrying umbrellas walking the slowest of them all. ‘damn them’, you think, ‘they have it the easiest right now.’
you turn a corner and nearly bump into a woman. you politely apologise before continuing your little run home. damp droplets run down your forehead. the rain is already starting to block your vision.
you tightly hug your tote bag to your chest with one arm. the last thing you want is for your laptop to get water damage. you’ve wasted tons of money on that thing to help you get through college.
you look down at the plastic bag with your food. that’ll survive. at least you think it will.
you squint. the rain is only getting worse and thus your blurry vision will as well. you try blinking the water away, but end up making it worse for yourself.
great.
your shoes are going through it. the deep puddles you’ve run through leave the material moist and you can already feel the droplets seep into your socks.
greaaat.
you turn a left. this narrow street is one you hate to be near when it’s dark. it’s a fast shortcut, but also a scary one since it’s isolated from the bustling main streets.
you think back to the cruel news you’ve heard earlier. scary images flash through your mind. your heart races a thousand miles per hour. you once again make up a doom scenario that could possibly happen.
what if the killer on the run is going after you next?
it doesn’t make sense, logically, but everything is possible now that your anxiety has overtaken your rational thoughts. you have no connections to those victims and yet you think you’re next.
you are next.
you whimper out of fear. it feels like the walls of this narrow street are closing up on you the faster you run. you look over your shoulder, excepting someone to be there—following you.
no one is there. you turn your head again and run as fast as you can. if only you had someone with you. someone who’d console you and tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of.
that’s the worst thing about the entire situation: nobody seems to pass by this backstreet. the only things that could possibly give you any sense of comfort are the random boxes and trash laying around.
time seems to slow down once you see the end of the backstreet. there’d actually be people once you make it through. you gulp and give yourself the motivation to get over there without scaring yourself any further.
the shadows looming over you due to the lack of lightning in this alleyway creep you out. the entire atmosphere is eerie—like something or someone can jump out of those shadows and grab you by the ankles. drag you into the darkness and finish you off there.
you want to return to those vibrant lights you know so bad. you do.
your eyes are so intensely focused on the end of the streets to the point that you forget your surroundings. it’s already too late to realise that you’re tripping over something. you process that you’ve lost your balance when you’re already mid-fall.
your body lands on the wet ground with a loud thud. luckily enough, your hands touched the concrete first, softening the fall for your head. you grunt and groan; it still hurt.
your ears pick up on the sound of running water. your head lays right next to a broken pipe that’s leaking water onto the pavement. cold droplets fall in a rushed rhythm.
“ah, fuck.”
your eyes widen. the sound of a man behind you sends a shiver down your spine. is that why you tripped? did he make you trip?
‘i’m so done,’ you conclude quietly. it’s probably the killer you’ve heard about—the one who’s coming for you next. just like you had thought.
you shut your eyes tightly, awaiting the strike that would finish you. like the wounds that had finished the other victims. though, it never comes. the stabbing doesn’t happen.
the only thing you can pick up on is heavy breathing. low grunts, barely audible. the sound of cloth ripping. a man mumbling under his breath.
you sit up on your knees and look over your shoulder. slowly, little by little.
the revealed sight is like a dream. or a nightmare. you don’t know which it is. perhaps a mixture of both.
all you know is that this is the last thing you expected to see. the last thing you expected to experience today. you feel your heart drop and you freeze in place.
you’ve seen your own fair share of blood, but this is simply too much. it’s like time has stopped for you. like time has stopped inside of this backstreet.
the world outside of this alleyway continues moving. the people keep walking, chatting and living their lives. the rain keeps falling. as if nothing is occurring at the moment.
as if there is no bloodied man on the dirty ground, leaning against the wall, with crimson stained hands clutching his abdomen. his wet bangs cover his eyes which makes his identity even more mysterious.
you probably tripped over his leg that’s stretched out in front of him; also bloody. you feel bad for not noticing him earlier. your own selfish desires to get out of this alley caused you to overlook a person in need of urgent aid.
you don’t think twice before reaching out towards him. it’s like your body moves on its own command—not waiting for your brain to figure out what to do.
“oh my god,” you’re shaking badly, but your body crawls closer to the injured figure. you don’t think twice. something you have always taught yourself to do before diving into unfamiliar situations.
not right now, however. you don’t hesitate to check up on the stranger. if you didn’t see his chest moving with each shaky breath, you’d have concluded that he’s dead.
“s-sir?” you panic. what do you do? you’ve never landed in such a predicament before. you look to your left and then to your right. no one to help you nor the bloodied man.
he doesn’t reply to your voice. that further worsens your anxiety. your eyes wander down towards the man’s abdomen. the wound was deep and painful, that much you can tell from the way he’s holding tightly onto it.
a bullet wound? you’re not sure.
right—the piece of cloth he’s keeping against the wound. that’s what you do to try and stop the bleeding. the warm red liquid stains the man’s baggy pants. his black shirt is nearly ripped to shreds, the material hanging on by a thread. literally.
“uhm, uh,” you look around and spot your bag on the floor. in a puddle. you pray that your laptop has made it. you don’t recall having anything with you that could help treat wounds.
you gulp and hastily take off your scarf. you carefully kneel in front of the half-conscious man. his head is held low. you don’t know if he can even hear you.
you reach your hand out towards him, aiming for his own bloody hands that hold onto his abdomen. you cringe due to the sight, but try your best to be of assistance.
the man hisses the moment you touch the his hand. your fingers stop mid-air, not wanting to touch him if he didn’t want to.
what am i thinking?
now is not the time for that. he’s bleeding out and you have this urge to get him to safety as soon as possible. even if you’re internally panicking because of the huge responsibility that fate has suddenly assigned you.
“i’ll call an ambulance. please hold on,” you try to be reassuring, however your choked up voice betrays your true feelings. you change the old cloth with your scarf, pressing it tightly against his injury.
you fish out your phone from your pocket using your other hand. the rain makes it hard to do anything. your screen is wet, your vision blurry. you type in the first number of the emergency services.
suddenly, a bigger hand swats yours, causing your phone to go flying to the other side of the street. you watch with wide eyes as your cellphone comes to a stop right next to a big puddle of rain.
you whip your head to the direction of the injured figure in front of you. the man tries to lifts his head, slowly, so he could look you in the eye. your heart stammers in your chest.
“sir, you’re bleeding out, you need to—“
“i don’t need anythin’.”
you don’t dare to move nor let out a single breath. you can feel the tip of a sharp blade rest under your chin—nearly penetrating the flesh. one wrong move and you will lose your life.
the man had moved too fast for you to even process. you don’t know how you even ended like this. with a bloody knife to your throat and an unknown man’s face right up against yours.
“leave,” the stranger demands. you know he’s not to be messed with, even in his weakened state, “i don’t need y’r help.”
his voice sounds rough. deep and raspy. it shakes you to your core—makes you listen to what he has to say. it’s hypnotising. a gust of wind blows over the both of you.
his bangs move and your gaze finally meets his. the background noises fade for a split second. your entire focus is on those beautiful emerald orbs staring into your own eyes. they’re gorgeous.
they're gorgeous; even if they lack that sparkle of life. his eyes tell stories—the rough journeys this man probably had to endure throughout the years. you’ve never seen such a sight. it tugs at your heartstring and urges you to help him.
you don’t know where these feelings came from, but amidst your anxiety, there’s an underlying desire to take care of him.
you shake your head, showing your unexpected defiance. you’re playing with fire. you know that all too well and yet you don’t care.
“no. i won’t leave,” your breath hitches. you notice the dangerous glint in the man’s eyes. he looks like he’s going to lose consciousness any second now. though his grip on the knife tells another story, “i won’t leave you alone. not like this.”
the injured stranger grunts in annoyance, but also in pain. your persistence makes him want to shove you to the side. to leave this place already and find a way out on his own. he doesn’t want your help.
he may actually need it, but he does not want to accept it.
despite those thoughts, he’s too weak. way too weak. he doesn’t like being weak. feeling weak is not his thing. vulnerability doesn’t suit him.
“you have a fuckin’ death wish,” the man scoffs. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto consciousness, but that is the last thing he cares about. he wants you gone. out of sight.
you stay in place. even through his chilling death threats. you can feel the blade start to invade the first layer of your skin. it hurts already. normally, you would’ve run. you want to. your mind tells you to get the hell out, but your heart and body yells at you to stay.
“i’ll give ya three seconds,” the stranger continues. he’s close. so close that you can feel his hot breath against your freezing cheeks. it’s intimidating, however not enough to scare you away.
the tighter your grip on the scarf against his abdomen, the tighter his grip on the handle of the knife. time will tell who’ll win this battle.
“three.”
the countdown starts. you swallow your own spit. the rain has you completely drenched. you catch a glimpse of the puddle underneath you both. the colour of it a light red as the man’s blood flows and mixes with the clear water.
“two.”
his voice is quieter than before. he’s losing his strength, but is stubborn enough to firmly keep the knife below your chin. you’re sure that your own blood is already trickling down the shiny metal.
the man’s lips part to announce the last number. your last chance. your final opportunity to escape and act like you have never seen him. you can go back to your normal life—continue living in your own world. the one you are familiar with.
one without this unknown man. this man with an aura of a cold hearted killer.
you fingers curl tightly against the scarf pressed against his wound. you refuse to let up. even if it means your own death. your eyes close—cold damp droplets roll down your cheeks. you don’t know if they’re your tears or if it’s just the pouring rain.
you hear a low, frustrated groan. he sounds so close yet so far from you. you can feel the man’s arm move to adjust his grip. probably to try and flawlessly puncture your jaw.
if only you accepted to eat out with your friend. if only you turned around and went back to your dorm the moment you knew it was going to rain. if only you didn’t take this shortcut today.
if only your fates hadn’t clashed.
“one.”
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TO BE CONTINUED. . .
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509 notes · View notes
writingworlds · 2 months
Text
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐄 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑)
Pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x Porsche!reader
Summary: The Porsche Princess, that nickname has followed Y/N around since birth. And who better for a princess than a prince?
Warning(s): more shitty google translate
Author’s Note: Once again thank you for all the love on this!!! I think there’s going to only be one part to the series after this one and then I’ll head onto other things 🥰🥰.
I hope all the tags work (some of them didn’t work last time and I’m unsure of how to fix it). Again, let me know if you would liked to be tagged for the final? part of this and maybe any of my future writings!!
Much love 🥰🥰
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Pierre Gasly
Charles…why are you appropriating French culture 🤨🤨
Charles Leclerc
I lost a bet man
Pierre Gasly
You?? Lost a bet?? To who???
Charles Leclerc
Y/N
I was hoping I’d win
That way I’d have an excuse to ask her out to dinner
Pierre Gasly
You poor poor lovesick fool
Ask her out anyway
Charles Leclerc
No way
My ego is bruised 🫠
Pierre Gasly
…..
I can’t believe this
Charles Leclerc
Pierre…don’t you dare
Pierre Gasly
Don’t I dare do what?? 😁
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Charles Leclerc
PIERRE GASLY WTF
QU'EST-CE QUE TU AS FAIT
Pierre Gasly
You’ll thank me later 🙏🙏
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Mila Bolinsky
Y/NNNN
Y/NNNN
GIRL ANSWER ME
Y/N Porsche
WHY ARE WE SHOUTING
Mila Bolinsky
You know how you said if Charles won the bet he would take you out to dinner?
Y/N Porsche
Yeah?
Mila Bolinsky
Look at this!!!
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You know who Pierre is best friends with
Charles
That little Ferrari man wants to go out to dinner with you
Y/N Porsche
🤨🤨 Charles has my number he could’ve just texted me
Mila Bolinsky
Y/N…he’s a man
Who lost a bet
His ego is probably bruised
Y/N Porsche
Men…such fragile creatures
Mila Bolinsky
Yes yes
But disregarding that
Text Charles
Ask him out to dinner yourself
Y/N Porsche
And why should I do that?
Mila Bolinsky
Bffr
You’ve had a crush on him for forever
You made a BET with him
If that’s not how you flirt then I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did
Y/N Porsche
…..you got me there
I’ll text him
yn_porsche
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liked by charles_leclerc, milaaa, papaporsche, and others
yn_porsche a good night out 🥰🥰
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milaaa I TOLD YOU
milaaa also stunning as usual 😘😘
papaporsche Y/N, meine Prinzessin ... ist das ein Date? Muss ich jemanden bedrohen?
yn_porsche Nein, nein, nein, du musst niemandem drohen, Papa 😭😭
pierregasly 😁😁
username 🤨🤨🤨
username now that’s suspicious
username this wouldn’t have anything to do with your tweet would it?
username is…is mother taken
username I SEE YOU LURKING CHARLES
username he’s just like us fr fr
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yn_porsche, milaaa, and others
charles_leclerc 🌹🌹
view all comments
pierregasly say thank you Pierre
charles_leclerc no
milaaa 🤭🤭
papaporsche ….
username is that….IS THAT A PORSCHE LOGO I SEE
username ARE THOSE THE SAME ROSES Y/N HAD
username OMG I THINK THEY ARE
username BF CHARLES ERA???
username jaw is on the floor
username Pierre and Mila in the comments I fear the best friends are cooking something
username they better be 😭
username the Porsche princess with the Ferrari prince?? Yes please
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Fred Vasseur
While I hope you had fun on your date you can’t be showing the Porsche logo Charles
It’s bad for branding
Charles Leclerc
My apologies boss 😅
Fred Vasseur
Oh shush, no apologies really needed
Now go get that girl
Charles Leclerc
Yes sir 🫡🫡
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Prestige Taglist:
@405rry @chasing-liberosis @h4miltonforza @escapism-writer @spilled-coffee-cup @dutifullyannoyingfox @or-was-it-just-a-dream @nessacarty1 @cherry-piee @nomie-11 @believeinwarrior @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @blushmimi @valntynebaby @loloekie @lightdragonrayne @woozarts @formula1cl16 @meadhbhcavanagh @marshmummy @aquangxl @justdreamersdream @trouble-sistar @iamahallucinationnn
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empress-simps · 21 days
Text
Uncle Padfoot’s Motorcycle
Pairing: Dad! Remus x Mom! Reader CW: Language and Remus who’s gonna face the wrath of his wife. Summary: Uncle Sirius takes baby Moony out for a ride on his motorcycle and you aren't happy about it.
Note: I’ve literally enjoyed writing this, and dad! Marauders literally make me hdiskskssjska ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS YOU GUYS🫨🥹 I LOVE Y’ALL
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"Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin!"
Sirius could feel his soul practically leave his body as he saw you, in your ever angry form, march to where he is handing your year old daughter to Remus' awaiting arms.
This is it, this is how Sirius thinks he’s going to leave the face of the Earth.
"Erm, I have to go! See you next week yeah?" Sirius clambers onto his motorcycle, praying to any deity that he would fly faster than you hexing him with your wandless magic.
"Bye pah foo!" Lyra grins, her four teeth in clear display as Sirius looked back and waved, "See you soon, baby moony! Have to go before mummy hexes me to no end!"
Remus watched his friend blankly, deep down wishing he too was in the back of the motorcycle with Lyra so he could escape the imminent wrath his wife that was to rain down on him.
“Remus. John. Lupin.”
Each word you uttered was like a nail on his coffin. He tried his best not to wince as he heard how utterly cold and sharp you spat his name out. So, gathering up his remaining courage, he faced you with a smile- and he definitely didn’t place your squealing baby girl in front of him, making her somewhat his shield. He hoped the cuteness of Lyra would soften the blow quite a bit.
“Hi, darling! You’re back early- “
“Tell me I did just not see our one-year-old baby land in front of our house riding Sirius’ flying motorcycle or so merlin help me I will strangle you.” You warned, taking Lyra from his hands, who happily snuggled in your arms.
Well, shit.
There goes his only chance of living.
He offered a wry smile, ignoring how sweaty his hands had become. “Alrighty, I won’t tell you- “
“Remus! You seriously thought it was a good idea to let our child ride a flying motorcycle? She just turned a year-old last week for Merlin’s sake!” You scolded, poor Remus. Call him a seer because he can already see himself sleeping on the couch for the entire week, a few days if he’s lucky.
“Darling, Sirius and I made sure it was completely safe.” He tried to explain, “Lyra doesn’t even have a helmet! What were you guys thinking?!” You hugged your baby closer to your chest.
“Well, Padfoot said it’s unnecessary since they’re technically flying.” You scoffed in disbelief as you comforted Lyra who started to fuss. “Remind me to make Sirius fall next time I set his eyes on him on that darn vehicle of his.”
Remus could only let out a nervous chuckle. "Erm, I will."
“Why was Padfoot even here the first place?” You raised an eyebrow, going back inside the house to place Lyra in her playpen as Remus followed you like a servant who’s trying to regain your favor. “He also took Harry out for a ride. After that, he went here and told me Lyra should also experience it.”
You turned around and faced him, a hand on your hips. “I’m guessing Lily isn’t aware- because there is no way in her right mind that she would let her two-year-old son ride a flying motorcycle.”
His silence was the only thing you needed to hear from him.
“Where even were you when he took Lyra out for a ride?”
He blinks stupidly, “Outside, watching them.”
“You better choose your next words carefully Lupin.”
“I was supposed to ride with them, darling! But Sirius already took off when I was about to get onto the motorcycle!” He explains, hoping it’ll be enough to save him as he recalled the events from earlier.
“Pah foo!” Lyra grinned as she clapped her hands excitedly, her sandy brown hair that was tied in pigtails was swaying with every move she made. Sirius returned her excitement, bypassing Remus who answered the door and made a beeline to the squealing baby.
“There’s my baby Moony!” He lifts Lyra up from her playpen and peppers her face with kisses while Remus smiled, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m starting to think you���re just visiting so you can hang out with my daughter, Padfoot.”
Sirius turned to look at him, smiling playfully as Lyra tugged on his curls. “I’m afraid so, Moony.” He then turned his attention to the child. “Now, who wants to go on an adventure with uncle Padfoot?”
Sirius’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he held Lyra aloft, her giggles filling the room. “We’ll soar over the treetops, chase the clouds, and maybe even race a few owls, eh?” He bounced her gently, eliciting more delighted squeals.
Remus watched them, a fond smile on his face, thinking that his best mate wouldn’t seriously do it. “Just make sure you keep her within sight, Padfoot. No loops or dives,” he added with a mock sternness that fooled neither Sirius nor Lyra.
Sirius mock saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Moony!” He turned to Lyra, whispering conspiratorially, “Your dad’s just worried we’ll have too much fun without him.”
Remus didn’t even know how it happened, he just suddenly became aware of the situation when Sirius and Lyra were off, the flying motorcycle roaring to life as they took to the skies, leaving a trail of laughter, the faint smell of engine oil in their wake, and a faint ‘I fly, dada!’ from Lyra.
You sighed, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts. “At least Lyra’s safe, I know Sirius wouldn’t endanger his god daughter.”
You watched as Remus’s eyes softened; the worry lines smoothed out from his forehead. “Yes, Lyra is safe, and Sirius might be reckless, but he’s also fiercely protective,” he agreed, his voice carrying a note of gratitude. You hummed in agreement.
Remus tested the waters, “So… I won’t be sleeping in the couch, right?”
You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, the tension from earlier dissipating like morning fog in the sunlight. “No, Remmy, you won’t be sleeping on the couch,” you said, your voice laced with a hint of amusement. “But let’s agree that any future flights require both parents’ approval, alright?”
Remus let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Agreed, and I promise, no more surprises,” he said earnestly, reaching out to take your hand.
Just then, Lyra’s babbling caught your attention, and you both turned to see her playing with a small, plush fox, looking eerily similar to your animagus form that Sirius must have sneaked into her playpen.
“Maybe we can’t protect her from everything, but we can make sure she knows she’s loved and safe,” you mused aloud, watching Lyra.
Remus nodded, his eyes reflecting the same sentiment. “That’s all we can do,” he agreed. “And maybe teach her a few tricks so she can outfly Sirius one day,” he added with a wink.
You glared at him playfully, then laughed, imagining a future where Lyra, with her inherited Marauder’s cunning, would indeed give Sirius a run for his money. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind,” you said with a smile.
As the night drew on, the house filled with the soft sounds of a family at peace. The day’s adventures were recounted with laughter and gentle teasing, and plans for a grounded tomorrow were made. And in that moment, all was well in the world of magic and mischief.
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