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#what i don’t think he would ever do is lash out at others when he knows the blame lies with himself. bruce is very self critical
comfortless · 2 days
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i have been thinking about this for a while and i love how you write, so what do you think of biker!könig with a gf that studies in uni? how did they meet? does he get jealous easily of her classmates? what is the aftermath of his jealousy (😏)?
thank you so much 🩷
-🌵
content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. fem (afab) reader, suggestive, but mostly just two sillies attempting to flirt.
They first cross paths at a gas station. Sundown and desolate apart from the woman who approaches the tiny shop on foot whilst he straddles his bike at the pump.
She doesn’t notice him, and that’s just fine. More often than not, people do but for the wrong reasons. It’s always the height or the face only his mother could love. This is a good thing, shows she’s not hasty with her judgment, shows she’s just unaware enough to let something like him in.
It’s stupid, completely ridiculous at how he feels his heart thump to life, ribcage squeezing and stomach a whirl with butterflies at the mere sight. The furthest thing from love comes to mind at the sight: plush thighs peeking out against the hem of shorts that cut off just below her bum, the tight tanktop that displays her cleavage in a way so enticing. But that’s what he immediately thinks of, that word that seems foreign to him even in his mother tongue.
Love.
König could be a gentleman, lie her down in his bed instead of fucking her over the bike, if she were kind enough to follow him home. That offer feels heavy as lead on his tongue, lost someplace in his throat when he really gets a good view of her.
He’s never been good with talking to women, anyway. Especially not an angel so far out of his league she would surely only scoff with her sweet drink in hand, turn away from him with her nose held high and dark circles under her eyes as she suffers through another paper back at her dorm or wherever she came from.
So, he leaves her be as much as he can and should, only watches her with his helmet in place and that dark visor masking where his eyes wander from her face down to the retreating view of her legs as she walks.
The next time time is during the rain.
König is good at refraining from acting on base instinct. There’s a lot to consider before stealing away some miserable dove on the sidewalk, the light drizzle from above soaking into her dress and battering her lashes as she sits and waits for a ride that just doesn’t seem to be coming. He’s got his military background, keeps his house tidy and rarely muddles in the affairs of other people.
It’s just that she’s cold.
He tells himself that the only reason he stops his bike some meters away is because she will get sick if he doesn’t offer her a ride. He’s just being a gentleman. There’s nothing more to it.
So he does. Keeps his helmet on and masks his face as well as the weird excitement and nervousness in his voice when the muffled offer taints the wet air.
It doesn’t matter that he wouldn’t have never considered any of this if she weren’t so cute. If she didn’t look so fragile and sweet. She smiles and nods immediately, fusses with her dress a bit when she climbs onto the bike behind him when she tells him that she’s only just been on a date. It just hadn’t turned out well and whoever the bastard had been had dipped before even the entree was served.
It sends his mind spiraling when it shouldn’t.
It’s deranged to think of her misfortune as fate when it isn’t.
“I’m sorry… I don’t know where to put my hands,” she laughs someplace against his shoulder, chin just slightly tilted up to bump his damp t-shirt. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever heard, not mocking at all, only shy.
“Around me.”
He sounds like an old pervert, feels just like one when he takes her hands into his own and guides them around his middle. Presses in a bit too tight, because it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman so close and it feels good to be held like this.
She makes some quiet noise, a soft gasp, then presses her face into the darkness of his shirt to hide away from the rain or maybe…
“You can come home with me. It’s close.”
She laughs again, and he’s reminded of just how little tact that he has with the fairer sex. She must think him an idiot, some hopeful vigilante that scoops women up from the street after nightmare dates with bad food or bad dick. It sounds so stupid to his own ears, he knows he’s burning crimson beneath the black helmet.
Until she squeezes him a bit, gives what must be her best attempt at a hug from their positioning. Again, too, maybe out of surprise that there’s muscle there. Something a woman like her might like.
“I’ve got nothing to lose, huh?” and then “You seem a lot nicer than he was, anyway.”
The air gets stolen from his lungs and his jaw grows loose. She had only told him yes to maybe sitting on his couch, watching some miserable war film until he brought her back to her academic wasteland, but not a part of him had expected that.
It takes a moment for him to realize he hasn’t said a word, that he’s sat panting like some stay being offered a meaty bone. He takes a moment to reposition her grip around him, too ashamed of the way his cock springs to life at her closeness and the ridiculous fantasy playing out in his head.
“Right… you can dry off there.”
He doesn’t immediately remove the helmet when she steps into his abode, just guides her over to the washroom when she asks if he would mind if she used his shower and lets her be. That room has never known a woman’s touch, and the shirt he gives her to change into isn’t comparable to the cute, floral thing she was wearing.
He takes her dress to the dryer to distract himself from the fact that she’s naked in there, just a flimsy door away. Changes out of his own sopping wet clothes after considering that maybe she would want to touch him again. Maybe it felt nice for her too, just to hold someone. He could hold her too, if she wanted that, bring her right to his bed and keep her safe and warm.
“You’re out of conditioner,” she peeps as she steps back out of the bathroom. “Just thought you would want to…”
Her eyes trail over him for a time as her words taper off to nothing. Then, they’re locked to his face and any hope goes up in an inferno. The scars are probably scary, the dark circles from weeks of minimal sleep are probably even worse. She probably thinks him some sort of monster or a demon, something no girl should be left alone with.
Then, she smiles.
“Wow…”
“What…?”
He expects the worst and instinctively casts a sideways glance toward the helmet sat by the door. The perfect covering to avoid situations like this. It’s not that he’s dependent on it, but… maybe he would have had some sort of chance had he not taken it off.
“I’m sorry for staring, you’re just really…”
Ugly. Scary. Whatever words she’s considering, he doesn’t care to hear them. She could just ask to go home, save herself some fear and save him from another rejection.
“… cute.”
“Okay.”
Scheisse.
That wasn’t a “thank you” or anything of substance, but this is more mortifying than anything prior. Even the women who had pitied him with a date before had never called him something so endearing, never likened him to some adorable little thing or stared up at him like she does now. She only seems giddy, a fire burning behind her eyes like she’s just discovered some secret treasure.
“… cuter than your date?,” he hazards, rolls his shoulders and tilts his head at her. His attempt at sounding confident only comes across bitter and jealous. Maybe he is, but that fucker blew his chance, and she’s blessing König with far too many.
“Definitely.”
The tension feels tangible, despite the absurdity of all of this. He’s not sure what to do with his hands, where to look, what to say or how long to take between breaths.
She’s stood there in his shirt, looking as if she’s already his and he’s the one left feeling ashamed and embarrassed.
“I think you’re pretty.”
“Yeah?”
“Ever since I first saw you, I…” He’s babbling too much, losing any composure because she just keeps her eyes trained on him, that adorable smile curling at her lips. If he sounded creepy, like he’s been following her, she doesn’t even seem to notice.
“Maybe you could take me on a date sometime,” she suggests, her voice coming as a breathy little whisper. Maybe she is shy, but she’s giving him the OK to push and prod and see just how far he can go, to expend all of his luck on this very night.
The rain outside only grows louder, threatening to cut the power and leave this docile angel in some dark pit with a mad king. He wishes it would, it grows harder to keep the prominent excitement in his crotch concealed the more that she talks and bats her eyelashes at him.
Being over-eager was a turn-off, right? He weighs his next words the best he can, considers playing it safe for just half a moment before they escape him anyway.
“Come here.”
There’s a darker storm brewing in his eyes when she takes those first, fragile steps toward him. But she graces him with the light of a spark when her hand finds his chest and presses there, feels his heart beating like it’s a normal thing to search for, like she’s just as mesmerized and surprised as she is now.
She’s snared in an instant with a face buried into her damp hair, lifted up with her legs guided to wrap around his waist. A decade worth of luck spent just like that, but he’s always been greedy.
The demand for more comes with a callused hand guiding her chin up. Her lips part immediately, eyelashes fluttering until they rest atop her cheeks, already warmed with the anticipation of what’s to come. His kissing begins gentle, soft for a second as he tries to memorize the plushness and curvature of her lips with his mouth alone.
Then, it’s only punishing.
He tries to hold himself back, but knowing he could have had this weeks ago while she was wandering about barely dressed drives him insane. The moment she gasps against his mouth, his tongue slips inside to find hers, rolls over it with such a ferocity that the corner of her mouth begins to glisten with their shared drool. She whines, then moans as her hands curl over his neck, petting at the short hair at the base of his skull.
His hands fall to her ass to keep her in place, gives her a pinch and then a grope when he realizes she’s not wearing underwear at all.
And that’s where the well must have run dry, because she tilts her face away with a series of soft pants, squeezes her trembling thighs around him as if to make a silent demand to stop, or maybe not. Everything she does makes him feel both hot and crazy; she doesn’t even attempt to wind out of his grip here, only looks up at him sultry and helpless. She must be wet, he can smell it, practically taste her already, but he doesn’t persist when she halts this dance.
“Wait… waitwait. I don’t even know your name.”
“König.”
She laughs breathlessly, then dips her head to press against his shoulder. His hand immediately rises to pet at her hair, twirling a few strands between his fingers as she tells him her name in turn.
“I don’t really want this to just be… one night, you know?,” she says, and that intrigues him.
“That so..?”
“Mhm…”
He slowly lowers her back down until her feet meet the carpeted floor, then takes her face into both hands while she gives him a cute pout. He could be sympathetic, could make her love him even… she’s left the door open for him already, after all.
“I could just hold you,” he mutters, tracing a circle into her cheek, savoring in the way her eyes seem to light up at that.
“I would like that.”
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rainylana · 2 days
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“Don’t cry.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.
requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!
warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??
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Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?
One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.
Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.
But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.
You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.
Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.
“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”
“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”
“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.
The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.
“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”
He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.
“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”
“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”
You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.
“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”
You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”
He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.
“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”
“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”
You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”
He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.
“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.
“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”
You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”
“Yes, you do.”
It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.
You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.
“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.
“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”
Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”
“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”
Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”
“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”
Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”
“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”
“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”
“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”
“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.
“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”
He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.
“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.
“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.
“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”
“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”
Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.
He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.
“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”
You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.
“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.
“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”
You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”
He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”
You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.
“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”
It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.
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simplynotcapable · 2 days
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listen to me: prince daeron “the daring” targaryen is one of the most moral people in the dance (by targaryen standards)
barring jacaerys, baela and rhaena, helaena, and the children—daeron is the ONLY moral character in the dance. there’s probably commentary to be made here of how he grew up outside of his mother and grandfather’s influence, but we aren’t talking about WHY he’s a good person just that he IS.
comparatively, we have:
Aegon II: a drunken, usurping rapist who paraded a dragon’s head through his city
Aemond: a mass murderer who at the very least coerced Alys Rivers into engaging in a romantic/sexual relationship with him
Daemon: Blood and Cheese, killed his wife, penchant for teenage girls, the entire Laenor situation
Rhaenyra: Blood and Cheese, the entire Laenor situation
Rhaenys: slaughtered HOW many innocent smallfolk in her grand escape
(very quickly: do not argue with me that Aemond/Alys is some grandly tragic love story or that he’s the victim because she’s older; he murdered her entire family in front of her, and a yes is not a yes if no is not an option)
(very quickly: WHAT do you think would have happened to Laenor if he told Daemon and Rhaenyra, who have just gotten into their heads that they can finally have what they wanted all along, that he isn’t going anywhere?)
(very quickly: i will never believe that book!Rhaenyra had no idea that b&c was going to happen and until the show settles it this summer, i am not going to believe that show!Rhaenyra is innocent in it either)
And then there’s Daeron, who admittedly does commit mass murder.
But this is Daeron’s only real crime.
And, I mean.
Maelor was torn apart by a *mob* of people. This was not a death that Daeron could say “okay this singular person is responsible” because so many people had a hand in it. There was no way to punish the singular person that killed his nephew because a singular person *didn’t*, and there’s no way to only punish the mob because how do you pick out the two dozen people from an entire town?
Sure, Lady Caswell says she executed them all, but she’d have every reason to lie about it when faced with Targaryen wrath. If she didn’t find them all, or if she really has no idea if the people she hanged are the right ones…why would she ever admit that to the Greens, who are rightfully enraged? And so why would Daeron believe her?
Was it right for him to exterminate Bitterbridge?
No.
But Daeron lashed out in his grief over what, in my opinion, is one of the most brutal deaths in the Dance.
He lashes out at the place that holds all the people who did it, even though he can’t pick them out one by one—or, at the least, the place that created these people, the place that spelled his nephew’s death. These people killed him. Daeron kills these people.
Is this misguided? Yes.
Is it an overreaction? Yes.
But he’s also an 18 year old boy with a pet nuke whose toddler nephew was torn limb from limb.
The other Targaryen atrocities involve the knowing and intentional harm to people that the perpetrator knows is innocent of any wrongdoing against them— Rhaenyra and Daemon having Jaehaerys killed after Lucerys’s death, Aemond burning the Riverlands and massacring the Strongs, Rhaenys causing the death of dozens of smallfolk while escaping, Aegon constantly harming those around him—but Daeron’s atrocity is aimed only at those he blames directly for his nephew’s death.
Is the entire town responsible? Of course not!
But, as misplaced as the blame is, at least Daeron is punishing the people/place he blames for his grief instead of intentionally seeking out people who are completely unrelated to the crime.
It isn’t right. But I understand his actions more than I do most other atrocities that take place during the Dance, and I don’t think it’s enough to paint him into the horrible monster that a lot of people do. And being as he’s actively described as gentle and chivalrous and Bitterbridge is his only terrible act…
My son is a good guy who did his best and deserved better than what he got
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roobylavender · 1 year
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do you believe Bruce is emotionally abusive? ik fans prioritise physical abuse and ultimately ignore emotional abuse tactics like parentification etc because it’s not “that bad”. I don’t believe Dick ever resents Bruce for letting him be robin (he’s grateful for it) , but in ntt he mostly resents him for being emotionally closed off, and rejecting him as a partner. Bruce worries for his kids safety so he pushes the whole “if you’re not perfect you’re dead” mentality onto Dick which ultimately is harmful to him. He’ll never regret being a hero but the rift between the two isn’t just a “we want different things” scenario but more that they’re incapable of giving the other what they want.
bruce being emotionally closed off from dick is what’s revisionist about that version of canon though. i think bruce can be bad at communicating sometimes esp when he’s deeply pained (like in knightfall, for example) but for the most part he and dick are shown to have great communication for decades before new teen titans and the adjacent post crisis starlin canon starts to rewrite that dynamic into something else entirely. per that version of canon i do believe he’s emotionally abusive but it’s not a version of canon i particularly appreciate bc it requires overriding the dynamic they had previously where they could certainly be prone to disagree at times but bruce was nonetheless willing to have an open and understanding conversation with dick about whatever the disagreement was. even the whole idea that bruce is responsible for dick believing that he has to be perfect or he has to be dead is one that new teen titans cements (or that issue of batman where bruce makes dick quit and jason is introduced thereafter)
i get that it’s easy to take new teen titans as gospel bc it is in essence the textbook source for dick but i think there should be some awareness too of how it twists that relationship between them and not necessarily for the better. i’m not opposed to bruce having faults he has to answer for. i absolutely agree he’s not cognizant enough of the complexes dick develops as a result of wanting to be seen as an equal, and thereby can’t realize the effect it has on dick for him to still be protective and fearful even if it’s ultimately out of goodwill and love. and there’s also the fact that even if he gives dick the space he desires to lead his own life it doesn’t mean he should be hesitant to reach out bc he’s afraid he’ll overstep by doing so, as a parent he should reaffirm his love for dick regularly regardless of knowing he might get some pushback bc dick is growing into his own (again, knightfall is a really superb example of this). but i also think those are tensions you can wholeheartedly explore without rendering bruce into a controlling and abusive figure, and i’m not sure who it benefits to write bruce as such in the long run
some of dick’s problems have to be his own, and he’ll never escape bruce’s shadow if the only source point of issues in his life is his relationship with bruce. that’s something i would actually apply to the robins at large. hardly any of them are allowed to explore problems entirely unique to themselves and i think that’s in large part bc writers simultaneously portray a mildly to explicitly abusive bruce at their leisure while refusing to ever actually address the elephant in the room that is literally of their own creation. a lot of people believe the bruce shouldn’t be an abuser argument is framed entirely as a resistance to bruce’s character assassination and for me i can admit that’s part of it, but a more pertinent part of it should also be the fact that bruce being written as an abuser is what truly chains his children to him forever to the point that they can never grow beyond that abuse bc writers refuse to allow them to. imagine the problems the robins could be addressing individually in their lives if not everything came down to them being fucked up bc that’s the way bruce raised them or failed to thereby. there’s a lot about the robins as individuals that’s deeply interesting and i think it’s not just a disservice to bruce but to them as well to write the relationships this way bc it obscures their own agency and ability to be explored for more than a haunted legacy narrative
#sry this is so very long. please know it is not me venting at you i simply have many thoughts 😭#but yeah like i think something that gets lost in translation is like. i absolutely do think those portrayals of bruce are abusive#i simply don’t think he should have been portrayed as such to begin with#starlin era bruce is very bewildering for me in all honesty i dislike it deeply#the issue where dick meets jason is one of my least favorite for the way it portrays bruce it feels so out of character for me#considering bruce was more than happy for dick to go off to college or to find his own place with the titans#and even with that famous issue where dick meets bruce after learning jason has died the writing is quite odd to me#i think bruce is very much someone who directs blame and frustration inward as opposed to outward#he’ll let himself get dog walked if he thinks he deserves it. which i think knightfall illustrates fabulously#the beginning of no man’s land as well#what i don’t think he would ever do is lash out at others when he knows the blame lies with himself. bruce is very self critical#so honestly that whole scene in the cave with him and dick. doesn’t exist to me i would literally rewrite it 😭#and i think it is very significant that wolfman chose to recreate that slap three times if memory serves while every other write in bat#editorial at the time straight up ignored it and acted like it never happened. like idk that plus the way bruce was characterized during#knightfall to me says a lot about how that was not supposed to be the status quo at all#anyway. sorry this has devolved into a whole other rant please do not mind me 😔#outbox
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myfictionaldreams · 4 months
Note
I have such a specific idea for poly marauders so please bare with me .
James and Sirius were out to a fancy party and they come home early to see reader and remus having sex in the kitchen , remus has her spread on the table while he fucks her and she arches her back and sees sirius through blurry vision and calls his name, remus doesn’t notice them so he thinks shes calling her other boyfriends name “ wrong boyfriend sweetheart “ so he fucks her harder until she calls his name “ there you go love”.
You could continue this however you would like Maybe james and Sirius join them. I also love the idea that after everything when they’re showering she reassure remus and says something like “ it’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you , you’re all consuming “ and the boys agree THATS SO CUTE.
I’m so sorry that this is long and graphic.
Say My Name // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader
A/N: Whoever you are, anon, I thank you for giving me this request because, holy shit, it has turned me (and Remus) absolutely feral, and I have no regrets.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, werewolf troupes, feral remus lupin, dom/sub undertones, possessive sex, size difference/kink (!), praise kink, dirty talk, self-confidence issues, gentle touching/kissing, rough oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, overstimulation, table sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, crying, body worship, anxiety attack (nearly), restraints, blindfold, begging, aftercare :)))
Words: 5.7k
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“You both look so damn handsome!” you admire dreamily with a thick lace of sarcasm as you tighten the burgundy scarf around Sirius’ neck. The mischievous glint in those twinkling grey eyes brightened as he rolled them in jest, matching the doting smirk on his full lips. “Maybe you should forgo the leather jackets more often for the waistcoats”, you say with a lustful undertone to your words as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Hmm, you think so?” he asks, dipping his height ever so slightly so that he could press his lips to yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss that still managed to pull desire in your abdomen as you leaned in for more but whined as he stood back to full height and straightened the waistcoat you loved so very much.
From behind you at the entrance to the bathroom, James was attempting to knot his bowtie when he wondered, “Are you sure you both don’t want to come with us? We each can have a plus one, which means there’s room for two. We don’t mind being fashionably late”. Glancing over your shoulder, you took in his slick attire that also caused warmth to bloom beneath your cheeks. A simple black jacket shaped perfectly for his slim waist, a crisp white shirt beneath and a matching shade of burgundy to Sirus was the colour for his tie.
The matching colours were an idea of Remus’, who was lounging across the mammoth bed, his long legs stretched out beneath him with one ankle crossed over the other. He watched James intently, the corner of his eye twitching at the messy-haired Marauder's attempts to tie his bowtie.
Remus stood and approached him, batting away James’ fingers as he began to do the job for him. You watched them fondly before answering the unanswered question. “No, it’s ok, James. Remus and I have a lovely night filled with a romantic home-cooked meal and a fancy bottle of wine. Who knows where the night may take us? Might end in some lovely… hand holding”, you say with a simple shrug to your shoulders, returning to straightening the already pristine waistcoat of Sirius.
“Oh yeah? Some strong hand-holding, Moony, is that what you’ve got planned? You might need to up your game”, Sirius jokes under his breath as he watches your fingers closely with a dipped head.
Remus snorted, smiling to himself, knowing that your night would be filled with anything but hand-holding, especially as the hours ticked closer to the following day. It was approaching the full moon, not tomorrow but the next day, but that didn’t matter as the changes were already beginning to affect Remus, and it all started with his desire for possession.
The wolf in Remus took a keen liking to you, even from all those years ago when you met the Marauders on the train to Hogwarts. It was an obsession, a need that devoured him completely to be with you. It had been described to you like a mating. Remus’ wolf thought you were his mate; therefore, as the gap between Remus’ and the wolf’s mind thinned with the full moon, the desire would take hold of Remus. There was still the deep, adoring love that he held for James and Sirius, and thankfully, this stopped him from ever deeming them a threat against your love, but others? Well, that’s where the danger lay, and therefore, it was easier for everyone if you and Remus stayed in for the night rather than have a territorial wizard with werewolf anger in a room full of people.
“Remember to please be safe out there tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and for the love of Merlin, James, please don’t drink and fly again. I’m not having another incident like last time”.
“Yes, Mum”, James grumbles sarcastically as Sirius chuckles under his breath.
“I’ll make sure that Prongs is on his best behaviour”, Sirius reasons with you as his hands come to rest around your waist, pulling you ever so gently closer.
“Good”, you say promptly, whilst curling a piece of his long hair around your fingers before reaching up to kiss his lips with a fierce press. “You look so handsome tonight,” you try to praise him as your mouths are still kissing together.
“Don’t I always?” he responds cheekily, earning a half-hearted eye-roll as he eases away, swapping places with James so that he can say goodbye to Remus and James with you.
Your fingers automatically try to tangle through James’ hair, attempting to flatten out the messy strands, but after a couple of minutes of attempts, James tugs you by your wrists. “I don’t know why you even bother; you know my hair will just stay messy. Anyway, doesn’t it add to my roguish good looks?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he gives you a broad grin whilst kissing each of your palms.
Your fingers cup his freshly shaved cheeks, caressing the smooth skin as you say, “I hope you have fun tonight”, whilst leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him with as much vigour as you could hear from the groans across the room with Sirius and Remus.
James sighed into the kiss, one hand matching yours by resting along your cheek and the other on your lower back as his lips pecked across your face until hovering next to your ear. “If you need us to come back, just send a note as we taught you; two flicks of your fingers and it should disappear, and we’ll come back straight away”.
Nodding your head in understanding, James kissed your cheek quickly before standing up to his full height and looking over at the other two men. “Sirius, take your tongue from Moony’s mouth; we must go!”
You tried to stifle your laughter as the two men pulled away from each other with rosy cheeks and wet lips.
Sirius and James disappeared with a flurry of green fire through the flu network installed in your shared home's kitchen. Remus turned to you with a heartwarming smile as he asked, “Shall we put some music on and start with dinner, love?”
You left it in Remus’ capable hands to find suitable music on his record player, and it ended up being a medley of David Bowie, which you were always happy to listen to. The two of you worked in unison to cook a beautiful roast dinner, moving around one another without getting in the way but making sure to remain at arm's length. Lingering touches to arms or backs, sipping slowly on the bottle of wine as Remus sang along to Bowie under his breath. You’d told him he could sing louder as you wanted to hear him, but he simply smiled and kissed your cheek, like he was embarrassed at being caught, but it was a rare day where Remus Lupin was embarrassed about anything.
The dinner was beautifully cooked, and there was enough for many more people than just you and Remus. Soon enough, you were stuffed full, thankful for deciding to wear a loose dress today with your expanded stomach. Remus was still eating as you sat and slowly digested your food, talking idly about fond memories from Hogwarts and how your work had been this week. Just anything domestically happy that the two of you could as you shifted closer in your seat so that his large scarred palm could rest on your thigh and your fingers interlock over the back of his hands.
“It’s a rare time when it gets to be just the two of us”, Remus muses, his hand squeezing your fingers and thighs as he pushes away his empty plate, his eyes solely focused on you.
“It’s been nice. As much as I love having all four of us together, sometimes it’s hard to keep up and give each of you all my attention, so when it's just one-on-one, it feels so intimate, wouldn’t you agree?”
His eyes softened as he nodded, “I definitely agree. You look so beautiful tonight, by the way. Have I told you that?”
Warmth filled your cheeks as you looked away to the glass of wine in your other hand. Even after all these years, one small compliment from Remus felt like the world, and it wasn’t the first time he had said that tonight; he’d said it every other sentence, but that didn’t hinder the giddy feeling from spreading in your chest.
“You, Mr Lupin, are a smooth talker”, you say, drinking a sip of your wine, ignoring his growing smile. Placing the glass onto the table, you shifted closer to Remus, resting a hand on his chest as you realised how much time had passed over the night. “So pudding, what would you like? I think we have some ice cream in the freezer, or if you’re lucky, James would have left us a couple of slices of his mum’s cake from yesterday”.
Remus didn’t answer immediately as you realised he was just silently watching you with the beautiful twinkle back in his eye, a curve to his lips that you itched to caress with your thumb. But then, he shifted forward in his seat so you were only mere inches from your faces touching, and the soft flop of his mousey brown hair fell into his eyes. “You’re so pretty, Remus”, you admire and then hold back a giggle as his cheeks flare with colour at your compliment.
“Pretty and scarred”, he muttered in response, cupping your wrist and bringing your fingers to his lips so he could kiss them carefully.
Your automatic response was to shout at him. It wasn’t that he had said anything remotely negative, but you knew the self-conscious thoughts that laced his words that he rarely spoke but still thought. You wanted to remind him of the hundreds of times he had ever scolded you for making negative comments about yourself or any self-doubt. Still, if you did, you knew it would ruin the positive mood for the night, so you wanted to continue with words of affirmation.
Closing the gap between each other, you kissed the tip of his nose whilst cupping both cheeks, paying specific attention to the thick pink scar that ran down from his temple, over his brow and his cheek. “I love you, scars and all”.
Remus’ tension seemed to ease from his shoulders as he breathed lightly out of his nose, his face lowering to rest on your shoulder as you held him for a moment before he began to stand and offered a hand, “What about a dance m’lady, then I’ll find you something sweet to suck on for desert”.
Ignoring the innuendo, you grinned up at him, placing your hand into his much larger palm. James and Sirius had lessons growing up from their families on how to dance for special balls they were forced to attend. You and Remus, on the other hand, were utterly clueless, but this only added to the joy and laughter as you both clumsily tried not to step on the other's toes or twirl without knocking into furniture.
You’d laughed so hard that a stitch formed in your side, causing the vivid dance to settle into a light sway. Your head rested on Remus's shoulder as his cheek pressed against the top of your head, arms around your shoulder as he lightly sang the next Bowie song.
Everything was perfect, especially as his rough fingertips danced up the nape of your neck, carefully tipping your head back so that you were now staring up into his kind eyes, his lips no longer moving along to the lyrics as he licked them carefully, moistening them before dipping his head. The kiss was as gentle as his hands now cupping your face, and you wondered for a moment if you were lightheaded from holding your breath in anticipation or from the effects of having your boyfriend kissing you.
Remus was soft, lovely and perfect as he eased away to put a gap between your mouths, but only so that he could adjust his position by keeping one hand on your jaw and the other around your waist before taking your breath away once more. Instantly, your body rose to the tips of your toes to be closer to him and firm the kiss.
The breath you’d both been holding released, noses pressing into each other's cheeks as the warm air tickled your ears. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, and as you relaxed into the kiss, many things seemed to happen at once.
The grandfather clock in the living room chimed midnight, and the soft Remus you’d been carefully kissing and exploring with your lips was now firmly gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you whilst simultaneously stepping towards the table as you squealed in shock, desperately gripping his shoulders for support.
Plates and glasses smashed onto the floor as Remus shoved aside the lovely table setting so that there was a firm blank canvas for you to be led on.
“Woah, Remus, just give me a minute.” You try to reason with him to at least get your bearings. Having been standing up two seconds ago, you were now led on your back with your boyfriend having become frantic with his actions. His shoulders shook with restraint, and his eyes didn’t lift from the edge of your skirt as he reached for the material. Not only this, but the brightness in his eyes had one, replaced with sinful hunger.
“Need you-” he muttered with a gruffness that hadn’t been there moments ago.
This was why you’d decided to stay in. Sometimes, Remus would curl around your body with the need to simply just breathe you in and declare that you were his; he’d become somewhat feral.
The fire in your body scorched to life as the need seeped into your core. As lovely as it had been, seeing him like this just did something to you. You wanted him just as desperately.
Frantically, you tried to help him lift up your skirt, but he was in control, pushing the material and tearing it in places with his firm grip until your legs and underwear-covered pussy were revealed. For a moment, it looked like he was going to dribble as you tried to reach for him to tell him to take a breath and compose himself, but all you were able to do audibly was scream out, head tipping back as Remus devoured you.
The Marauder hadn’t even waited for your underwear to be removed before his mouth was on you, hands not-so-gently wrapping around your thighs to push your legs apart, the slippers you’d been wearing now flying off in different directions across the kitchen. It was like he’d not eaten a single thing all night with the way his lips and jaw moved against your most sensitive of areas.
The sensation was odd with the barrier of cotton in between your cunt and his mouth. All you had was the pressure, wetness beginning to soak through from his tongue and the overwhelming heat from his mouth. Remus moved hungrily, licking and caressing with his mouth as you lay with your arms gripping onto the edge of the table above your head.
“Rem-Remus! Merlin, please don’t stop!” you begged desperately, allowing your body to succumb to his touch. You couldn’t even open your eyes without feeling dizzy with the sensations of his body all over your lower half as he pressed his tongue firmly against your throbbing clit, circling it with intention.
The hands on your thighs pushed harder, giving his face more room as a deep groan burned from his chest as he needed more. Still, as you whimpered from him to not stop, he stayed in place, stimulating your clit over and over again until your body was tensing with the pulses of desire from your cunt as your orgasm erupted.
His motions continued through the waves of pleasure, and even after, he carried on with his devouring, even as you verged on the edge of becoming overstimulated from the rough material of your panties rubbing against your delicate area. Remus needed more, and he was ready to take it.
The pressure on the back of your thighs suddenly disappears as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, giving you a better angle now to reach down and run your shaky fingers through his soft hair.
With your eyes firmly closed, you hadn’t noticed that your underwear had been torn clean from your body, only noticing when there was no barrier between what you both wanted. Your back arched from the stimulation of him sucking on your bundle of nerves, making an obscenely wet noise as your juices and his saliva caused a heavenly mess. 
Your legs had begun squeezing his face as you weren’t able to control your body, but he didn’t stop; he just simply continued to eat your pretty cunt. “Please….please Remus”, you continued to beg but unsure of what as you were thoroughly warm head to toe with the effects from your last orgasm, but his playful mouth knew just the right ways to keep you at the elevated bliss.
The thickness of his tongue pressed against your throbbing hole, delving as deep as he could go before curling it and exploring the warm softness of your cunt as the tip of his nose stimulated your clit.
It was intense, primarily as his large hands now rested on your abdomen, pushing down and forcing your hips to remain against the table so that he could remain in complete control of the stimulation to your body.
Clenching relentlessly around his tongue, your body couldn’t tell if it was calming down from an orgasm or having another. The overwhelming sensation caused tears to well in your eyes as the apples of your cheeks burned with heat. Everything was too much; even the clothes covering your torso felt claustrophobic as your nipples ached to be free.
“Ah!” you babbled, unable to even say his name as more intense waves of pleasure rocked from your cunt as it pulsed around his tongue. The tears escaped down your cheeks as you tried to gasp for air, your body finally slumping in exhaustion against the table as Remus began to stand from where he’d been on his knees for you.
Each of your legs was carefully eased from his shoulders to dangle off the edge of the wooden surface, not that you could keep them up anyway, as your entire body felt as if it was made of jelly.
“Did so good for me, Love. Taste so fucking good, wanna try?” he asked from where he now looked down at you, hovering only inches away from your face as his fingers wiped away the evidence of the tears. You nod quickly, opening your eyes for a split second to see Remus’ dark eyes and swollen, wet lips before they were pressing against yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth and allowing you the vulgar opportunity to taste your own juices from his mouth.
“My pretty girl tastes so good”, he admired, staring down at you, memorising every flicker of emotions on your face. You mewled at the compliment, nuzzling your face pathetically into his palm as he cradled your face. “What do you want? I want to hear you say it”.
His tone indicated that he was teasing, which was a rare attribute for Remus as he usually just liked to do whatever he had in mind, but when he was like this, wishing to get the very most from you as his werewolf subconscious began to flicker through his thoughts.
“You, I want you. Please!” you stress whilst trying to look up at him, fingers trembling at your side with the need to touch him somehow.
The corners of Remus’ lips tilted up as he smiled down at you, “Have I ever told you how much I love to hear you beg?”
Before you could respond, you were gasping as coolness licked over your chest as he’d swiped his wand down the centre of your clothing until it was falling off of your shoulders, and your body could be free from the confines. His eyes lowered, focused on your pebbled nipples as they begged for him to be touched, but he didn’t rush to them.
Instead, Remus began the long journey of exploring the rest of your body with firm kisses and licking with the flat of his tongue. He paid special attention to your neck, as he always did this close to the full moon as his sharp teeth grazed over your pulse point, the animalistic side of his begging to bite down and mark his girl, but he restrained, knowing it would be painful for you. The last time he’d done so, he’d had a right bollocking off of James and Sirius, who prattled on about how you weren’t his chew toy, even though you had insisted that it was ok.
Moving lower, Remus worshipped your breasts. He was licking the skin around the areola before drawing your nipple and some breast tissue into his mouth, sucking with enough force that the area swelled with the rush of blood. The fire in your core intensified as you gained enough energy to lift your hands and grip his shirt.
“I need you, Remus, please stop teasing me”, you beg, but all that earned in response was an approved grunt.
“Relax, and just let me kiss you”, he sniped with desire as you wanted to sass back but found yourself melting into the table instead. Each inch of your stomach, hips, legs, arms, everywhere he could reach in this position, he praised with his mouth until he was once again hovering above your lips. “All I can think about is you”, he admitted, his tone caught between hunger and pain as his thoughts were becoming too clouded by the wolf’s desire to be close to you.
Your fingers combed through his hair as you tried to sound as calming as possible, “I know, Remus, it’s ok. I’m right here. Take me”.
A shiver ran down his spine as he finally began to unbuckle his trousers, freeing his cock between your bodies as he rested on his elbows on either side of your face so that his face could nuzzle into your neck.
You took the honours of reaching between your legs, grasping his impressively hard cock, admiring the soft skin and veins that bulged as you pulled him closer to where you needed him most.
“Tell me you’re mine”, he begged as you directed his tip to your soaked hole.
Tilting your head so that you could kiss his cheek, you implored, “I’m yours Remus - FUCK!”
All you could do was curse and cling to him as, with one powerful thrust, the majority of his cock stretched into your pussy. You could never take his entire length unless it were through anal play, but that didn’t stop him trying as the pressure became overwhelming as he nudged against your cervix.
Your thighs trembled once more as he gave you time to adjust, sighing blissfully against your neck as if he had finally found what it was that he was looking for. However, as your cunt frantically fluttered around Remus as you adjusted to the intrusion, Remus began to rut his hips in short, snapping thrusts slowly.
You groaned at the sensation and found your hips meeting his until all restraint was gone, and Remus was fucking you hard and fast.
Pushing up on his hands so that he was looking down at you, Remus fucked you hard. The table beneath you groaned just as loudly as you were as it rocked against the floor, and for a split second, you hoped it wouldn’t suddenly collapse beneath you two.
Remus suddenly moved as if hearing your thoughts, widening his stance as he stood to his full height, hands on your thighs and bringing your body to the very edge of the table. In this position, he could fuck you with quick snaps of his hips. Your back arched in this new position, pleasure pouring into your soul.
However, a noise over the sound of the fucking caught your attention as the fire flickered with green flames, and you couldn’t help but gasp, “Sirius!” as he stepped out of the fire, followed closely by James.
Remus, still with his head hunched slightly from where he was watching you intently, growled at the name used, his gaze hardening on you as he leaned back until you looked into each other's eyes. “Wrong name, Sweetheart”, he demanded lowly, fucking into you with as power as he could, causing you to cry out and tense with the pleasure. “I only want my name coming out of your mouth, do you understand?”
“Yes, Remus! I’m sorry!” you plead with him as he fucks you harder.
“There you go, Love. See, it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” As he talks, he lifts his hands and covers your eyes so you can no longer look at Sirius or James as you’re plunged into darkness.
“Don’t be too hard on her, Moony”, James teases from somewhere across the room as you hear him and Sirius shuffling around but are unable to see what they are doing.
Remus grunts but doesn’t stop with his motions, making sure that your next orgasm is just as overwhelming and powerful as the others as your cunt clung to him for dear life, attempting to milk his balls with the powerful clenches but he didn’t stop fucking you all the way through your orgasm.
Having his hand over your eyes was a disorientating position to be in, especially as he would every so often kiss your cheek or neck, savouring your soft skin before moving away so that his momentum could continue.
A hiss echoed across the room from wherever your other two boyfriends currently were, and as another whimper sounded from what you assumed was Sirius, Remus then decided it would be a good time to completely pull out of your pussy, leaving you gaping and empty.
Before you could moan, more disorientation flowed through you as his hand was removed from your face, and your body was being manhandled so that you were now being turned over on the table until your front was pressed against the wood. With a gentle kick to your ankle, Remus made room between your legs for himself and fucked into you. He was even deeper in this angle, which you didn’t think was possible as his chest pressed against your back.
His and didn’t return to your face, allowing you to look at your other lovers. Sirius was currently sitting on James’ lap, both of their fancy clothes more dishevelled from earlier as the bowtie and scarf were off and the top buttons were undone. They stared intently at you and Remus as they touched one another. James was kissing the column of Sirius’ neck whilst his hands groped at the bulge at the front of his trousers. At the same time, Sirius was grinding his hips down on James, who you assumed had a matching bulge that was rubbing against Sirius’ arse.
“You’re mine, Love. Aren’t you? My pretty girl”, Remus whispered with deep penetrations of his cock into your cunt.
“Yes! I’m yours, Remus! You’re so deep”, you proclaim with a cry as you find yourself already wanting to peak and cum over his thick dick again. However, Remus knew you just as well as you knew yourself and could feel the tightening of your soft walls and stopped all thrusting as you sobbed with the beautiful feeling washing away.
His hand eased beneath your face, holding your jaw and forcing your sight away from your boyfriend's until it was tilted to look over your shoulder at Remus. “You only get to cum after them”, he demands before nipping your ear love with a sharp tug of his teeth.
“Moony, you really are tense, aren’t you” Sirius jokes breathlessly as he moves more eagerly against James, whose hand is now fully inside of his boyfriend's trousers, wanking him off in time with the movements.
Thankfully it didn’t take them long to cum, Sirius first with his head thrown back and trousers staining a dark colour in a little puddle. James then rutted up into Sirius a few minutes later, groaning and stilling his movements. Both breathed each other in deeply, lazily kissing and holding onto one another until your sudden gasp echoed around the room as Remus continued with his fucking.
Your head moved to drop onto the table as you accepted the fucking, but Remus’ hand remained beneath, cushioning your face from the hardness of the wooden table as his lips moved to the junction between your throat and shoulder.
With each thrust, Remus repeatedly grunted the possessive word, “Mine!” until it was all you could think about. Your orgasm nearly caused you to pass out with its intensity. Juices streamed from your cunt, dripping down your thighs as waves of clenching pleasure constricted around Remus’ cock until he was forcing as much of himself as he could into you, and thick seed spurted into you. The warmth was welcomed as it soothed your pussy from the inside out as it began to trickle down your thighs, mixing with your own juices.
You were half aware of your movements, more concerned with the fact that you couldn’t control the tremble and sobs as Remus pressed himself harder over your back, making you feel grounded and safe.
“Shh. Slowly breathe in and out for me. That’s it. Slowly breathe for me again, keep going, well done”, Remus encouraged for some time as you’d been close to a panic attack with the overstimulation, close to tipping into the submissive headspace that would have taken them a lot longer to draw you out of.
“It’s just… a lot”, you say shakily, eyes closed and absorbing every warmth he was willing to give you”.
“I know, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”, he reassured calmly.
You’re exhausted, ready to fall asleep right there on the kitchen table as you whisper, “I wanna go to sleep”.
Remus kissed your naked shoulder, “After we clean you up, ok, Love?”
As Remus begins to stand, his half-hard cock slipping out of your well-used hole with a slurp and shudder from both of you, did James finally step forward whilst readjusting his softening cock in his trousers.
Squatting down next to you, his fingers tentatively caressed your cheek while keeping an eye on Remus behind you to ensure the action wouldn’t trigger him somehow. “You alright there?” James asked softly.
“Mmhm. Just a little sleepy”, you say whilst closing your eyes at the ticklish touch on your face.
Sirius stepped forward from behind James, raising his wand and pointing it to the destroyed rest of the kitchen mess, “I’ll clean up here, you guys look after her, and I’ll join you in the bathroom”.
Remus had to carry you to the bathroom as liquid drips flooded out of you and marked the direction you had been giving Sirius more to clean up. As this house was altered for the four of you, the shower was wide enough to provide you with Remus and James plenty of room to wash together.
You attempted to stand up on your own but ended up leaning heavily on Remus as James washed the remnants of the fucking from your body was skilled, careful fingers.
“You know I didn’t mean to say the wrong name, right? I just didn’t expect to see them standing there and-” you begin to explain with Remus, worried he’d been upset by you saying Sirius’s name earlier.
However, his lips quickly cut you off with a simple peck, “I know”.
Kissing his cheek several times, you mumbled against his skin, “It’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you. You’re all consuming, Remus”.
Against your lips, you feel the heat radiating off of him in a quick burst of rare embarrassment as he actually blushed at your words.
“She’s right, Moony. Without you, there is no us without you”, James quips in a rare statement of sincerity.
A cough from the bathroom door catches all your attention as Sirius casually leans against the door frame, cheeks round with roast potato as he joins in with the Remus praising. “There’s a reason why we all argue every night to see who gets to be spooned by the magnificent Remus Lupin”.
Three of you chuckled before you asked, “Are you eating my leftovers?”
“What?” he says with a shrug, stepping further into the room and beginning to take off his clothing at last. “The food was scarce at the party, and Moony’s roasties are always so fucking good”.
You nod in agreement before looking up at Remus once more, who looks quite proud of himself for the flow of compliments coming his way. However, as you attempted to lean up onto your tip toes again to kiss his handsome face in some way, your knees decided they were finished holding up your way as you nearly collapsed to the floor, only stopping because of his strong arms wrapping around your waist.
“As much as I appreciate this little pep talk, I think we need to get someone to bed”.
Remus lay in the centre of the bed, where he rightfully deserved to be tonight with you on top of him, face resting on his chest and legs on either side of his hips as each of your hands held his. Sirius and James joined later, deciding they needed some extra alone time in the shower together, as the dry humping hadn’t entirely filled that horny spot for either of them.
You were asleep by the time both men crept into bed, resting either side of you and Remus with arms spooning around your back as the three shared a kiss goodnight. “How was your night?” Remus asked, looking between James and Sirius. “You’re both sober, so I’m assuming no mischief?”
“Oh, Moony, like we need alcohol to cause a riot. Why do you think we’re back so early?” Sirius declares whilst flicking out the laugh and curling in closer to the warmth of bodies as Remus chuckles into the darkness.
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miserycanary · 1 month
Text
BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next
pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you
tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence
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He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you. 
That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night. 
The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you  
What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind. 
Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.
You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not. 
“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you. 
“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you. 
Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest. 
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well. 
“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.
Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows. 
“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.
“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”
Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle. 
The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt. 
“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“
You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him. 
God, what has he done? 
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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poge-life · 1 year
Text
Thirst Tweets ~ Drew Starkey
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(Gif creds to kasmira)
Summary: After reacting to thirst tweets about your boyfriend, you just couldn’t help yourself when you got home
Warnings: spit kink, choking, dom!drew, sub!reader, oral (m&f receiving), name calling, minors dni, all underaged readers will be blocked
“Oh, fuck.” Drew threw his head back with a groan as you took his cock deeper into your mouth.
After you guys left the ‘thirst tweets’ interview, you had been all over him in the car. There was just something about the way he had reacted to the tweets about him and how he didn’t shut them down, that just got you going.
Especially his reaction to you guys reading the tweet about ‘Rafe’ spitting in their mouth. You saw the smirk on his face and how he bit his lip. Clearly, there were a few things about him you still had to learn.
You two had been together secretly for a year. You both had decided to keep it private between just your friends and family, not wanting it to be public just because you knew how it would go.
“What’s gotten into you, huh?” He asked, voice laced with arousal as he tangled his fingers into your hair and tugged on it. You looked up at him through your lashes as you released his cock with a ‘pop’ but kept your hand around him, slowly jerking him off as you rested your head on his leg, “I learned a few things about you today, baby.”
He tilted his at you, signaling for you to elaborate. You pressed a kiss to the vein on the side of his cock before placing one on his hip. You pressed kisses all up his torso as you leaned over him, “Don’t think i didn’t see the way your eyes lit up when we read about you, or well, Rafe, spitting in people’s mouths. There something you wanna tell me?”
Drew placed his hands on your waist as he flipped you two over, “I think someone forgot who she was talking to.”
The kiss was messy; all tongue and teeth. Drew dragged his hand down the side of your body before wrapping it around your thigh and hitched it around his waist. You moaned into his mouth at feeling his cock graze over your panty covered clit.
As soon as you two got back to your apartment, you stripped both of you down and immediately went to work on him. Ever since he started to grow his hair out again and got his ear pierced, there hadn’t been a day where you didn’t jump his bones.
“Is that what you want me to do? Spit in your mouth?” Drew asked once he pulled away from you. He nudged his nose against yours but quickly pulled away when you tried to kiss him again, “do you?”
You bit your lip as you nodded, “I think about it a lot.” Drew’s pulse picked up at your words and you watched as his eyes darkened
There were things about you he still didn’t know, sexually, at least. Despite the fact you two had been dating for so long, you were still shy when it came to certain things.
Drew let out a groan before licking his lips, eyes never leaving yours, “yeah? What else do you think about?” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek; jaw, and then your neck. Tilting your head to the side to give him more room, you ran your fingers through his hair, “I think about you fucking me against the the window, so everyone could see it. I-“
You cut yourself off with a moan as he nipped at the skin, before mumbling, “what else?”
How the fuck were you supposed to focus when he was grinding his hips against yours. Drew brought your attention back to him by slapping the side of your thigh and you let out a yelp, tugging roughly on his hair in return, “what else do you think about?”
“I think about you fucking me like you do when you’re frustrated,” you moaned as Drew now adverted his attention to your tits. He left wet kisses on them before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples while his other hand came up to tug on the other one. You let out a content hum as you relaxed into the bed, “I also think about you spitting in my mouth.”
He released your nipple with a ‘pop’ before looking up at your, “yeah? You want me to treat you like a whore?”
You whimpered, nodding your head at him. Drew smirked as he sat up on his knees and grabbed hold of your panties by the middle and tore it.
“Drew!”
He simply waved you off as he buried his face between your legs. You shot up, a hand on the his head as the other gripped the sheets, “oh, fuck.”
Drew lapped at your pussy, tongue barely grazing your clit each time it passed. He looked up at you as he pulled your legs apart, forcing them onto your shoulders. He sucked your clit into his mouth and his tongue prodded the bundle of nerves.
You tightened your grip on his hair and threw your head back with a groan. You brought your free hand up to paw at your breast, tugging on your nipple.
Drew looked up at you and nearly came at the sight of you playing with yourself. He released the hold on your leg before sliding his middle and ring finger up and down your wet pussy before sliding them into you.
“Oh, fuck.” You moaned as he thrusted his fingers into you at a brutal pace. Not having the strength to hold yourself up anymore, you let your arms drop and you fell back onto the bed. Drew pulled his mouth off of you and placed kisses on your stomach.
He kept with the brutal pace with his fingers as he leaned over you. He could feel your legs start to tremble once he brought his free hand up to wrap around your throat, “open your mouth.”
Your eyes lit up as you eagerly complied, sticking out your tongue. Drew leaned closer and let his spit fall into your mouth. You let out a moan, closing your mouth before pulling him down into a kiss.
He pulled his fingers out of you before wrapping his hand around his cock. Moaning into his mouth as you felt him drag the tip of cock over your pussy, you pulled away from him and looked down as he pushed in, “oh, shit.”
Drew dropped his head onto your shoulder as he started to set a sensual pace. He moved his knees under your thighs and spread them apart so he was able to move deeper. One of your hands was in his hair and the other was digging into his shoulders.
Drew grabbed hold of your jaw, tilting your head to the side so he could leave wet kisses on your neck. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip and you couldn’t help yourself; you nipped at it before wrapping your lips around it.
Not diverting his attention from your neck, he pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth. The hand that was in hair moved to hold onto his wrist.
He gave a particularly hard thrust and you moaned, pulling his thumb from your mouth, “right there.”
Drew pushed himself up onto his hands as he pulled away from you, “doesn’t matter how many times we fuck, you still turn into a little slut.”
“You're such an ass,” you groaned, which quickly turned into protests when he pulled out of you, “no, no, no. Please.”
Before you could process anything that was happening, drew had flipped you over and held your hands behind your back as he harshly thrusted back into you, “It’s like you’re begging me to punish you.”
“I thought you liked it when I begged.” You smirked, looking over your shoulder at him. Drew brought his hand down on your ass and gave you a dark look, “You really think you’re in any position to be smart with me?”
“Guess your just not fucking me good enough.” You shot back, which you quickly regretted when he lifted your hips and pushed your head down into the pillow before fucking into you, “just don’t know when to stop running your mouth, do you?”
All he was met with was a moan and he couldn’t help but smirk, “there we go. That’s what i like to fucking hear.”
All that could be heard was the sound of skin slapping and the moans coming from you, with the occasional groan from Drew. He wrapped your hair around his hand and tugged your head up, “C’mon, baby. Tell me what you want.”
“Wanna cum. Please.” Was all you could let out. You thrusted your hips back against Drew’s, matching his pace. Drew stopped moving and just watched with a glazed look in his eyes as you eagerly threw your ass back on him,”there we go. Fuck yourself on my cock.”
After a few minutes, drew wrapped his arms around your stomach and pulled you up against his chest, slowing down his pace as he turned your head to pull you into a kiss. It was the exact opposite of what was going on 30 seconds ago. One hand was on your tit, a firm grip on it as his other slid down the front of your body and down to rub your clit.
You jerked at the feeling, pulling away from the kiss as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, “Fuck.”
“That feel good?” He mumbled, eyes not leaving yours as you nodded, tugging your bottom lip into your mouth, “Mhm.”
“Do you think you deserve to cum?” Drew asked, tilting his head down to nip at your ear, “cause I don’t think you do.”
You quickly shook your head, eyes wide and terrified of not getting to cum, “No. Please. I’ll be good.”
“Yeah? Gonna be a good girl for me?” He asked, rubbing your clit faster, “not gonna run your mouth anymore?”
You let out a whimper as you reached behind him to thread your fingers in his hair, “just wanna be good for you.” You pulled his head down for a kiss before tugging on his lip and looking up at him with big doe eyes as you stuck your tongue out.
How could he refuse when you looked at him like that?
He gathered the spit in his mouth before letting it fall from his mouth and into yours. Before you could bring your tongue back into your mouth, Drew pulled you in for another kiss. You could feel his spit dripping down both of your chins but neither of you cared. Tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away, Drew smirked as he pushed you forward and pulled out of you, “gonna have to work for it, baby. I want you to ride me.”
He laid down next to you on the bed, arms behind his head as he watched you kneel on shaky legs before swinging one of them over his hips. His hands came to hold onto your hips to help steady you as you reached for his cock. You could practically feel it throbbing as you slid down onto it.
You both let out a moan at the new feeling. Drew was well endowed and you always felt so full when you were on top.
“You okay, baby?” He asked, rubbing your hips with his thumbs. You couldn’t help but smile at him; even when he was railing the shit out of you, he was always making sure you were okay.
“Never better.” You laughed, placing your hands on his chest as Drew moved his hands to ass, squeezing it before placing a harsh slap on both cheeks, “Good. Now show much you’re gonna be good and fuck yourself on my cock.”
Slowly moving your hips up, leaving just the tip in, you brought your hips back down and you both let out a moan. Drew grabbed hold of your ass and helped with your movements.
You leaned down and pressed your lips to his jaw before moving down to his neck. In response, Drew held your hips down as he thrusted up into you.
“You’re squeezing-oh fuck- the shit out of me.” Drew let out as he sat the two of you up, moving your hips against his. You tugged his head back as you looked down at him.
Drew was the hottest man you had ever seen and you were so damn lucky to have him.
His pupils were blown, eyes droopy, and his lips were red and pouty. If he looked this fucked out, you could only imagine how you looked.
“That’s because y-you’re so big.” You stuttered, as your clit brushed the hair that was right above his dick. Drew smirked up at you as he brushed your hair back, “yeah, that right?”
“Mhm.” You mumbled as Drew leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your nipple and tugged on it before moving to your other one.
He pushed you backwards until you were laying on your back, taking advantage of your blissed out state as he moved both of your legs over his shoulders and thrusted back into you at a harsh pace.
“Oh shit,” you moaned, as Drew pushed your thighs to his chest, hovering over you as he rolled his hips into you. Your back arched off of the bed at the new feeling, You grabbed onto his biceps, digging your nails into them, “right there!”
Drew rolled his hips into yours with a smirk on his face, as he reached up to wrap his hand around your throat, “You know what you need to do if you wanna cum.”
‘Smug little bastard’
“Please let me cum…daddy.” You begged, grabbing hold of the wrist that held onto your throat, “I wanna cum for you.”
“Are you gonna be a good girl?” He teased and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes, “Yes. I wanna be your good girl. Please let me cum.”
He gave short but deep thrusts as he tilted his hips, which was all he needed to do to make you cum.
“Oh…fuck!” Your legs trembled on his shoulders as your pussy continuously pulsed around his dick. It didn’t take long for Drew’s orgasm to approach and he leaned down to kiss you, “where do you want me to cum?”
You blinked up at him, mind hazy and taken back by his question, “I-in me. I want you to cum in me. Please.”
Drew let out a loud moan at your words, not realizing how much of an impact they would have on him, “want me to cum in you? Fuck a baby into you? Hm, is that what you want?”
‘Well, it was now’
You whimpered as you nodded your head, “want a baby, Drew. Your baby.”
“I got you, baby. I’ll give you a baby.” Drew moved your legs so your thighs were pressed together and against his chest as he fucked into you relentlessly, desperate for his release. He threw his head back as his hips faltered against the back of your thighs.
You could feel his cum spurt into you in long ropes. And it felt… euphoric.
“Oh…shit.” He groaned as he pulled out, watching as his cum spilled out of you. He leaned over you to give you a kiss on the forehead, flopping on top of you, burrowing his head into your chest, “love you.”
“Love you, too, baby.”
A/N
When I tell you that this probably the best work I’ve ever done, I mean it. I do wanna start a tag list for my works so please let me know if you would like to be added!!
@nct-whore @willowpains @simpforboys @leigh-kay
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angelltheninth · 10 months
Text
One Inch at a Time
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, first time (with Miguel), size kink, cockwarming, gentle sex, nipple, cock riding, affirmation, porn without plot
Word count: 1k
Ao3
A/N: I think Miguel has a real gentle side to him when having sex cause of his size.
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“Wait, wait, wait.” Miguel hissed as he watched you position yourself on top of him. Normally he would be on top but he figured since you commented on never having someone as big as him before it would be best to let you ride his cock at your own pace. He couldn’t stop his big hands from shaking as he grabbed hold of your hips, lifting you up, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit and your slick dripping down on it and down his length, “Oh fuck.” His cock pulsed with need.
He couldn’t just bury himself inside of you, he needed to wait, for your sake.
“Miguel. What’s wrong? You said I could ride you.” He’d been fingering you and eating your pussy for the past hour or so, leaving it slobbering wet, “If I’m not wet enough now I don’t think I’ll ever be.” There was also his cock, with the head sticky with pre-cum, looking so tasty. You knew well how tasty he was, you spend many nights fucking your fingers and toys while he fucked your mouth, but now was finally your pussy’s turn.
Eagerness aside you knew he would be a lot for you to take, most your toys paled in comparison to his size and thickness. It was a little scary when you saw him for the first time but you sucked on his cock like your life depended on it and have only gotten better at it since.
One of your favorite ways to suck him off was while he was in his chair, your knees propped up on his shoulders and his hands holding your ass cheeks firmly, his tongue poking, licking and prodding at your pussy, your tongue vibrating against his cock from the mutual pleasure. You watched him fuck many if his toys from the videos you sent each other too, imagining it was your pussy instead. “Gonna fuck you just like this sweetheart, just like this.” Miguel would promise as he would unload into the toy, showing you how much flowed out after.
“I did say that, and you can ride me. I... don’t want to see you hurt yourself. I know I’m a lot and there no need to take all of me.” He was always mindful of his larger size in comparison to you. The fact that he could toss you around like a ragdoll, or use you like a fuckdoll in this case made him mind go places he was scared to bring you along for. “If I hurt you... I wouldn’t forgive myself. This is supposed to be pleasurable for us both.”
“And when have you denied me my pleasure, Miguel? Did I ever tell you I was unhappy with your performance? Were you with mine?” You teased as you tried to break free from his hands, only riling him up further.
“You know I’m happy. Promise me to go slow.” This felt like something you should be asking him, he’s the one with the massive cock. When you smiled and nodded, batting your lashes at him you felt his grip let up, not leave but ease a little. With a deep breath and an encouraging smile you stretched yourself around the tip, “You have no idea how much I want to go all in. I’ve been thinking about fucking that pussy for months now.”
Shit, you thought you could take him easier. Your dildos don’t do him justice at all, and after this you know for sure that they won’t. “I wanted your cock so many times Miguel, on so many nights. When I’d see you walk back I wanted to drop down and suck you off so bad. You drive me crazy, not having your cock drives me crazy.”
“How do you think I feel?” Miguel’s eyes roamed your body, taking in all the hickies he left so far, going all the way down to your clit, “With a body like that it’s a miracle you haven’t brought me to the brink of insanity yet. Every time I see you my cock gets hard, its impossible not to think about fucking you day and night. Although I don’t think your body can handle that.” He had such a smug aura about him as he gloated about his stamina. Cocky, for good reason too.
“You let me worry about what I can or can’t take okay? You stay hard for me hm?” Yeah, like you needed to tell him that, he had the opposite problem. “You... feel... so... good... inside... me.” With every word you sunk down a little more, your whimpering painful and a big distraction for Miguel.
“Stop if you can’t-”
“I can!” You persist, taking more before you have to stop, your pussy clamping down around his cock, your nails scratching down his abs, leaving marks you didn’t mean to leave. “S-Shit. Sorry. Let me try again.” You gave him a small smile, your body trembling above his.
Miguel bit his lip and tried to soothe you by massaging your thighs. His contact was reassuring, as was the warm way his eyes looked at you. Maybe you didn’t have to take him but you wanted to, more then anything you wanted to feel his cock fully sheathed inside you and... “Fuck! Oh my god... yes...! Finally where you belong.” You almost felt dizzy, orgasming as soon as he was inside, “N-Not yet.”
“Oh. Hey. Look at me.” You let tears of frustration run down your cheeks when he cupped your face, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m really, really proud of you okay? You’ve a good girl for me, taking me all the way like this.” Miguel beconed you closer for a sweet, comforting kiss, “Rest. My cock will stay hard for you when you’re ready to go again.”
No one had a boyfriend more understanding then you, in any universe. You snuggled against Miguel’s strong, soft chest, your walls pulsing and trembling around his cock, feeling little squirts of cum pumping inside of you but for all that Miguel didn’t move, he wasn’t tense but fully relaxed underneath you, his knees bent just a little as his hands explored your bare back, shushing an comforting you. You gave him your all, which is more then he ever dared to ask, he couldn’t be happier.
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impishjesters · 6 months
Text
Pomni, Kinger, Caine & Jax's reaction to their s/o abstracting
warning(s): angst, hurt no comfort, self-blame, "death" of the reader, implied "death"/abstraction of another character (spoiler: Kinger), hopeful outcome note(s): There's nothing incredibly heavy or detailed, just tread carefully if "death" is something you are sensitive to, please. The "hopeful outcome" implies that Caine will at some point in time be able to fix those who've abstracted. A/N: I was feeling particularly cruel and wanted to write some angst, this came to mind and I'll be honest. I made myself a little sad.
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Pomni
She never saw it coming, of course, you were acting different lately but she didn’t think it would… lead to you abstracting…
It took forever for things to get some semblance of normalcy, and you being with her was a major part of it.
Sure the relationship in a place like this was a bit, weird, but you cared about her, and she cared about you.
You kept her sane and grounded, so when you were found abstracted? It felt like she failed you.
Ragatha tries to assure her that you aren’t completely gone. Like Kaufmo you’re being kept in the cellar. Caine claims the abstracted are being kept there until he can find a way to “fix” them. (Whether he’s genuine or not though, none of them know.)
It’s all empty promises though, she still feels like she failed you.
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Kinger
Not again…
Kinger silently promised himself not again, he was fine being friendly with everyone else that fell into the circus, but he had no intentions of being more than that.
But then you happened, and while he was still in shambles from the time and the insanity spent here, you were there beside him. Like a knight in shining armor.
He hadn’t been around when you abstracted, in fact, he didn’t know you abstracted until there was yelling, and boom an abstraction was causing chaos.
Kinger didn’t know who it was until it was sent off to the cellar, actually, he didn’t know who it was until he realized everyone was present except you.
There’s a high probability that losing someone again, losing you, is what ends up being his own downfall. The other’s (not including Jax) try their all to get him to calm down but it’s not enough, it’s too late…
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Caine
Of all the humans to be pulled in he never once got attached.
This was never supposed to happen, he’s incapable of love.
Caine does his best to keep the humans from abstracting, and as many eyes as he has over the place, there are always ones that slip through his grasp.
Of course, he’s not around when you abstract, it takes a bunch of hooting and hollering from everyone before he shows up and oh hey an abstraction.
At an immediate glance, he knows it’s you, abstractions never remotely look like the person they were before but he knows it’s you. You don’t recognize him as you lash out, of course you don’t, you can’t.
He’s unsure about tossing you with the others in the cellar, there’s nowhere else he can truthfully keep you without causing problems. So into the cellar, you go.
Caine visits you though, not for long but he does check in on you. Not that anything changes, but out of all the abstractions down there, he knows exactly which one is you.
You’ll be the first human he fixes as soon as he’s able to.
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Jax
His s/o abstracted? Nice joke, though it’s in poor taste. You’re completely fine, he just saw you earlier.
Jax doesn’t believe it until he sees it, and seeing it absolutely ruins him. He’s seen countless others get abstracted and thrown into the cellar, but why, why does it have to be you?
Why couldn’t it have been literally anyone else? He didn’t give a shit about anyone else, the one person he cared for, and you…
Similarly to Pomni, he feels it’s his fault like he could’ve, no should’ve done more. Was he so wrapped up in everything else that he didn’t notice the signs? Why didn’t you talk to him? You didn’t, didn’t do that on purpose, did you?
For the first time ever, the others are genuinely worried about Jax, they all saw/know how much you meant to him. The two of you even spoke fondly about what the two of you would do if you got out of the circus.
For a while Jax becomes even more irrational and unhinged, they try not to hold it against him too badly, even when he oversteps. He’s grieving and none of them know just how long that’ll go on.
Jax isn’t quite the same afterward, but he makes sure that nobody else tries to worm their way into his heart.
If it’s possible, he’ll make sure Caine fixes you the second he’s able to. Even if Caine can fix only one person, it’s going to be you.
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garoujo · 10 months
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU ; — you can’t help but feel a little upset thinking that your boyfriend has forgotten your anniversary.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, none, fluff! although it gets a tiny bit hawt at the end! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! an anon suggested this drabble idea literally like sometime last year + the new szn finally gave me some motivation to write it! i hope u see this!
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3 years.. 3 years and gojo didn’t leave you with so much as a “happy anniversary” as he left this morning. you’d have even taken an extra smack on the ass during your usual morning makeout session, the taste of his two sugar’s too sweet coffee on his tongue as it twists with yours and his hands on your waist.. but that’s it, that’s all???
so now you’re here, angrily stomping back to your shared apartment after the few errands you had to run today because you took the day off to celebrate. but your dumb, stupidly handsome boyfriend doesn’t even know what for as he rambles on the other side of the phone.
“can feel you poutin’, what’s gotten into my sweet girl? hm?” gojo hums like hes thinking about something, his same sickly sweet tone dripping through you like honey despite the way you want to be mad at him right now— you would’ve ignored the call all together, just to be petty if you didn’t know he’d turn up at the door a second later.
“nothing. i’m just almost home that’s all.” you’re lying and you know he can tell, he always could. he could pick up every slight, little change in your attitude like he seen right through you.
“oh yeah? nothing at all on your mind?” gojo drawls again, there’s a teasing lull to his voice and it makes your pout puff out even more before he breathes out a low chuckle and sighs. “and here i thought you were mad at me. you almost made me cry at work— who would take me seriously then, huh?”
“you’re not funny.” you huff out, short and a little clipped as you finally come to a stop infront of your apartment door — fiddling with your keys in your hand while your pout still rests on your features.
“you sure?”
you really can’t be bothered playing gojo’s games right now and as amusing as he seems to find himself, it’s only making you burn hotter — making your stomach twist with the lump in your throat that you’ve been fighting to keep down all day. you don’t want to get upset, but it meant a lot to you.
you just wanted him to maybe put in a little effort on the one day that you guys really get to celebrate eachother.
“positive. so i’m gonna g—“ you can barely finish your own spiralling, upsetting thoughts before your snapped response through your phone fades on your tongue. but suddenly, the tears youd been fighting to hold back all day seem to come so ruthlessly, gathering along your lashes as you gaze onto the ocean of red that greets you as you open the door.
you’re not sure how many bouquets there are waiting for you there. hundreds? thousands? sitting pretty along the floor, decorating the shared space so beautifully that you don’t even realise that you’ve gone quiet. ofcourse gojo would do something like this, and suddenly you feel a little silly for even doubting him.
“ah, fine. i guess i’ll get the guy to come pick all of those back up then, huh, sweet thing?”
but the smooth tone that sounds from your phone speaker sounds a little louder, closer when it’s accompanied by a long arm wrapping around your waist from behind as kisses are pressed up the side of your neck.
“but, you—“ you try but you feel so overwhelmed, so full of love as gojo’s large figure drapes over you from behind. his face is stuffed into the crook of your neck and you can feel the way his crooked smile sits on his features as it presses against your skin. he feels warm, although you’re sure he’s more than smug right now when he pulls away with an exaggerated gasp that cuts off your sentence.
“as if you’re perfect, good looking boyfriend would ever forget. what do you take me for, hm?” you giggle at that despite the way he’s teasing you again, squeezing at your sides until you’re meeting his gaze and you’re sure you must look so in love when you notice the way his features soften slightly.
“happy anniversary, princess.” gojo grins as he leans into kiss you breathless, twisting into your mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and you almost rock back with how dizzy he makes you feel. but his hands are on your hips, keeping you close against his chest with a stability that you’d always found in him.
another long press of his lips with yours and you whimper sweetly as he pulls away to look at you, pretty gaze glowing slightly from under the snowy peaks of his hair before he’s smirking again, maybe a little wider this time.
“you gonna laugh f’ me when i tell jokes again? i can feel the tears threatening to start again.” he’s like a professional when his cheeky grin twists into an exaggerated pout, making you laugh again— a little harder this time before you’re pinching at his cheeks playfully and bringing him in for another quick kiss.
“you’re such a dork.” you tease and gojo groans against your lips like he’s offended.
“mmm, no thank you? oh i’m hurt, sweet girl. what’ll i do with you now, hm?” the look he gives you as he pulls away is suspicious, a raised brow as his head falls to the side and he really looks like he’s considering it. until the next moment his large palm is coming down heavy on your ass before his next handful squeezes.
“satoru!” you squeal but that only seems to make him chuckle as he leans down to kiss you again, rougher this time despite the way you’re both smiling giddily into the shared, messy press of eachother. almost too quickly finding yourself pressed up against the wall in the hallway as he melts into you.
“let’s see! oh, i’ve got a few ideas.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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lale-txt · 6 months
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✱ confessing to you w/ Gojo, Nanami, Higuruma & gn!reader
@snailor-bee asked: LALEEEEE!!! (o゜▽゜)o♥ WHAT'S THIS I HEAR?? REQUESTS ARE OPEN?? FOR MORE FANDOMS?? You just know I just gotta... May I please request Gojo, Higuruma, and Nanami trying to confess to reader? (*/ω\*) Like headcanons/drabbles whichever. I just think it's real cute. And you're real cute. It just works out perfectly, hehe. Hoping you're doing well!! ;3; Sending you hugs and kisses!!
a/n: BEE my sweet (´⌣`ʃƪ) it feels like forever since i for around writing something for you, so i was super excited when you sent something in for me! i had a lot of fun writing these small drabbles, i hope they're to your liking! ps: i think YOU are super cute love you ok bye
➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐: Geto, Toji & Shiu
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❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Gojo is used to being fawned on. He has the good looks and he knows. Keeps running his mouth without any consequences because there simply are none when you’re Gojo Satoru. The strongest. The balance of the world depends on him. He’s untouchable.
And then there’s you, who is tearing his whole act down with such ease, it makes his heart stop.
You don’t fuss over him and you don’t bow before him. His name doesn’t fall out of your mouth as if he was a deity, someone holy; and still it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard. When you call out for him, Gojo wants to be there in an instant. There’s this unknown calmth whenever he’s with you, his heart feeling lightweight somehow. He’s drawn to you like the tide to the moon.
For someone as grand as Gojo, he loves so quietly. 
He can’t bring himself to say those words out loud, as if they carried a weight that threatened what you two have. Still, he doesn’t know what to do with all this love; he never learned where to put it down. You can handle it, can you? The burden and the curse of being loved? You wouldn’t be scared to love him back, right?
So Gojo makes sure to show you his love in the most mundane things, so there’s no room for doubt just how tight he holds you in his heart. Midnight strolls to the candy aisle at the supermarket. I love you. A hand on the small of your back when you’re moving through a large crowd. I love you. Your fingertips brushing over his long white lashes while he rests his weary head in your lap under the cherry blossoms. I love you. 
It’s only when you kiss him one night, in the middle of the parking lot, that those big words get caught in his throat. Six eyes aren’t enough to comprehend the feeling in his chest when his big hands cup your face, as if he wants to hinder you from ever pulling away from him. It would be so easy to mumble his confession against your lips, but you already know. So instead he simply kisses you back, sweeping you off your feet when you lose your balance from being on your tiptoes. 
He smiles when you shush him with another kiss. He doesn’t need to say it out loud; you know, you’ve always known.
❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
Nanami’s confession is apologetic.
The words have been weighing on his heart until one night, they just fall out of his mouth. Maybe he had one drink too many, not enough to be drunk, but enough to loosen his tongue. His thumb rubbing over the rim of his glass, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, his tie not so accurate anymore. He isn’t looking at you; it’s easier if his gaze doesn’t catch yours, if his eyes can’t wander to your lips. Your hands are next to each other on the bar counter, almost touching. He could close the distance so easily, but he’s aware that he wouldn’t be able to let go of your hand anymore.
“I’m in love with you.”
His voice is low, whisky-raspy. The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable; it’s a warmth that’s surrounding you like a veil. At this moment, it’s just you and him. In another life, this could have been so easy, couldn’t it? In a life where he doesn't have to worry about fighting curses, and the horrors humans are capable of, and about the day he might not come back home to you from work. He wouldn’t have to break your heart like that.
“So deeply, utterly in love with you.”
In another life, you could have had it all. The shared books on the nightstand, the matching rings on your fingers, the messy blankets in the morning. Maybe he was being greedy, yearning for this. He couldn’t help himself when you tugged on his heartstrings like that. He tried to fight it, this attraction to you; but the more he tried to keep his distance, the more he yearned for a glimpse of your attention. Your bright smile from the other side of the room–it should have been enough. And still…
“I hope you can forgive me.”
Was it really greed that made him cradle your face in his palms, gazing into your eyes before leaning in for a kiss? No… no. But he knows he can never let go of you now, not when he tasted the sweetness of your lips. Not when you kiss him back with such hunger, years of yearning unraveling in this very moment. Not when forgiveness lies on the tip of your tongue, asking to be devoured. All he can do is hope that when his time comes, you’ll let him pick up the pieces of your broken heart and that the light of your love will guide him somewhere south; back to the warmth the two of you feel in this very moment with his lips on yours. 
❦ 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀
Higuruma has no doubt in his heart regarding his feelings for you. They’re clear as day to him. His heart leaps in his chest when you enter a room and your laughter washes away all of his exhaustion for a bit. 
He studied you from afar for a long time; he can read all of your small gestures and expressions like a language only you and him know. The way your tongue pokes out between your lips when you’re in deep focus, reading over a file from a case you’re working on with him. Your fingertips picking up a tiny piece of lint from his suit before you enter the courtroom together and the small smile playing on your lips when he looks over his shoulder to catch what you’re doing. That one strand of hair that seems to be loose no matter how often you try to tuck it away, much to your annoyance and his adoration. 
“I’d like to ask you out.”
His words are as clear as his intentions. Higuruma is a straightforward man, not brash but gentle in his own way. With him, you don’t have to wonder what's between you two, he’ll tell you what’s on his mind and he’ll expect the same from you. Never pushy, but longing for connection, for mutual understanding. He sees no point in hiding his feelings and he knows you’re clever, you’ve probably had them figured out anyway. 
Higuruma and you have to face them daily, the abysses of the human mind. It’s easy to let your heart go cold over them, to lose a bit of your own humanity. And yet, when your eyes meet, it’s all forgotten. It’s like he can see the essence of your soul and you can see his and it’s all golden; so golden.
You don’t pull away when his fingers weave between yours one night when you leave the office together. He feels a sense of relief wash over him in this moment, not because he was afraid that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but because his world got a bit brighter in this moment, a bit warmer. He missed this for much longer than he’d admit.
To Higuruma, loving you comes easy. It feels as natural as breathing. It calms him, as if you’re the eye of a storm. And so he doesn’t even hesitate to say those words out loud, almost stating them like a matter of fact, and sealing them with a kiss. Guilty of loving you.
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mistiell · 7 months
Note
The one request that’s bouncing around my head is Astarion dealing with a sick mc like fever chills and no sense of balance because of vitiligo
Hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k
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You feel like shit. Total and utter shit.
What started as a sore throat has evolved into a fever and chills, along with an absolutely skull splitting migraine. The sheets twist uncomfortably as you turn onto your back, clinging to your sweat slicked skin. You can’t bring yourself to kick them off. Not when the ache in your bones makes it feel like they’re breaking.
The sun has been up for nearly an hour, now. If you don’t come out soon, one of your companions will come get you. A strangled whimper forces it’s way out of your throat as you force yourself up, curling in on yourself and dropping your face into your hands.
After trying to decide between attempting to take a breath through your sufficiently stuffed nose or through your mouth, you choose the latter. Which you realize is a terrible mistake when it suddenly feels like a thousand tiny knives are skinning the inside of your throat. It makes you cough, which makes it a million times worse, which makes you cough even more.
It’s a good minute until you can finally breathe again; throat raw, beads of tears drying on your lashes. You’re sure you’re a sorry sight. It makes you glad no one is here to see you in all your disease ridden glory.
“Sweet Hells, are you hacking up a lung in here–?” Not even all the way inside your tent yet, Astarion stops immediately after he lays eyes on you. The disgust is immediately replaced by a hesitant sort of concern, brows just barely creasing, “Oh dear.”
“Do I look that bad?” He grimaces at the way your voice grates, gaze flitting over various parts of you before he meets your eyes again.
“You look dreadful.” You think it’s meant to be playful, but he looks and sounds just a little too concerned for it to land that way.
You snort anyway, rubbing at your sweaty forehead, “Thanks.”
He hovers there, uncharacteristically quiet as he glances outside before sighing and coming the rest of the way inside. He’s still in his regular clothes, which makes you think the others haven’t started getting their armour on yet. Thank gods.
He sits down in front of you on your bedroll, knees barely a hair’s width from yours as he cradles the nape of your neck in a gentle hand and presses the inside of his wrist to your forehead. Eyes fluttering shut, a small sigh of relief escapes you when his blessedly cool skin meets yours. You barely think about it as you place a sluggish hand over it to keep him there.
“You’re nice and cool.” You sound listless.
“And you’re about as hot as the hells.” He sighs. You can hear the frown in his voice, “This has gotten out of hand.”
Peeling your eyes open, you blink at him in confusion, “What?”
He lets his wrist fall but keeps a kind hold on your neck, looking deadly serious.
“I know how much you love flattery, but you should know you really don’t have to go to such lengths to get me to wax poetic about your eternal beauty.” It seems like he can’t help the smile that cracks that through the act he’s putting on, “I truly appreciate the effort, but a simple, ‘Astarion, my dearest love, tell me I’m pretty.’ would do just fine.”
A giggle bubbles up from your throat, and you list forward to hide your face in his shoulder as you rasp weakly, “I do not sound like that.”
He hums, giving your nape a gentle squeeze before stroking a little line behind your ear with his thumb. You can feel his teasing smile against the side of your head, “Thankfully not. Should you ever call me your dearest love, I fear I may just drop dead a second time.”
Your laughter dies down, and you’re left with an astronomical wave of fatigue. He wraps his free arm around you when you slump further into him.
“Darling?” He jostles you a little bit. Again, he attempts a joke. Again, he’s too worried for it to come out right, “Don’t go dying on me now. With all we’ve been through, it would be such a waste.”
You huff a small, breathy puff of laughter, turning your face so the bridge of your nose rests against the side of his neck, “I won’t.”
He eases his hand up and down the length of your spine. You barely register it when he turns his head just enough to nose at your temple briefly.
“You should lay back down.” His voice is softer now. The feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear makes you shiver. Although, that could also be the fever.
You sigh, pulling yourself away from his shoulder. The movement sends the world tilting over and over in one direction. Breath hitching, you feel yourself sway as your eyes squeeze shut.
“What’s wrong?” He sounds a little alarmed as you drop your head into your hands.
“Vertigo.” You breathe. Everything keeps spinning behind your eyelids.
You can hear him shift before his hands find one of your forearms and your shoulder blades, guiding you to lay back.
“I have to–.”
He cuts you off, suddenly stern, “The only thing you have to do right now is rest.”
“But the others–.” You try again. It’s in vain.
Scoffing, he turns his nose up. “The others can shove it, as far as I’m concerned.”
You huff, ready to argue until you open your eyes and notice the anxious quirk of his brows. Instead, you sigh, sluggishly placing you hand over his, “Fine.”
You just barely manage to hear the small breath of relief that escapes him as he turns his hand to give yours a squeeze. He leans forward to press his lips to your forehead before pulling away, “I’ll be right back.”
You only nod.
He comes back five minutes later with a small bowl of water, a cloth, and two slices of bread balanced carefully in his arms.
“You don’t have to eat it yet.” Is all he says as he sets the plate down a little ways away. After wetting the cloth, he rings it out into the bowl and folds it in half before laying it over your forehead. You sigh as it cools your skin. It only lasts a few moments before your skin has warmed it again.
He tries again, then again, before huffing; frustrated.
“I’m sorry.” You croak, and he tuts, shaking his head.
“Don’t apologize, darling. It’s not you.” He sighs, looking properly perturbed now.
“Maybe Shadowheart–.”
“I asked. There’s nothing she can do.” It comes out bitterly, but you know it’s only because he’s worried.
You suddenly have an idea, but first you have to ask, “Can you get sick?”
Looking confused, he shakes his head, “No, I can’t. But, what-?” Pulling back the covers, you open your arms. It clicks, and he chuckles as he climbs in beside you, “Plan to use me as an ice pack, do you?”
“That’s the plan.” It comes out more deadpan than you mean it to. It makes him laugh a little harder, and you can feel the vibrations as your head settles over his chest. Having him next to you is like a balm in more ways than one.
Eyes heavy, you sigh as his hand trails idly along the length of your bicep. You guess he can hear your breathing and heart rate slowing when he whispers, “Sleep, my love.”
And who are you to deny him when he asks so nicely?
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dadsbongos · 7 months
Text
ANOTHER ONE
fucking stupid part 2 i did for my yuuji fic for ao3 :) and decided to post here lol
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2.1 K words
warnings - 18+ mdni !!, pwp, penis IN vagina, thigh fucking, tummy bulge (+pressin on it), minor headlock action, yuuji is hesitant but not NOT into it, a lot of drool, mentions of sukuna's cannibal past (not sexified)
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Yuuji excels at the single most important tenet of being a boyfriend.
Compromise.
A giver at heart and selfless and so, so loving, he practically bends to your every whim - something Nobara and Megumi love teasing him over. Yes, he would crab walk over glass if you so much as asked, but he will not bend to this.
“I don’t trust you,” Yuuji is stubborn on this, and this alone.
“I’m the reason you’re with her!” the red eye stabs him through your bathroom mirror, “You forget that, vermin!”
“You’re literally in my body,” he sighs, “And keep your voice down, I don’t want her hearing us argue,” at the unimpressed stare Sukuna levels him with, Yuuji only sighs louder, “I don’t know why you even think she’ll want you.”
“I know her body more than you could ever hope to, worm,” if Sukuna notices the way Yuuji huffs, he certainly doesn’t let it be known, “Studied it to perfection years ago, and spent my time in solitude remembering every detail. Every stretch mark and curve and swell of fat - I know her body better than you. I know it.”
Well, he was stubborn on this.
“Be nice,” Yuuji grips the smooth counter of your sink, he could never hold out against you and your batting lashes and sweet voice, “I’m taking over the second she seems upset.”
Another low-lidded, testing glare from Sukuna, and Yuuji shakes his head before throwing the bathroom door open.
“Well?” your fingers lace together in your lap, bottom lip tight between your teeth.
Centuries ago, in different bodies, the two of you were in this same position - with a different question on your lips.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” Sukuna had settled in beside you, the tatami mat squishing beneath his heavy weight and he still towered over you, “Speak up.”
“Well,” you leaned back, head falling against your pillow and fluttering your lashes up at Sukuna, “Would you eat me?”
Rolling over, Sukuna planted a knee between your legs with two arms holding himself from crushing you, the remaining two curled around your waist, “How do you mean, hm?”
Reaching a hand up, your soft palm cradled the unhardened side of his face, giggling when his tongue lolled against the tip of your thumb, “You know how I mean.”
He did. It’s something you’d mentioned since falling into poor health - a stiff question that leaves his heart cold and skin raised. When he should’ve been used to this. He was. He’d eaten many people before you and, even then, he was certain he'd eat many people after you. You’d fed him. You’d helped Uraume cook his meals. You were used to this.
Sensing his hesitation, you slid your hand from his cheek to ghost your fingertips over his lips. Kissing the pads of your fingers, Sukuna’s lids were low as he stared down at you - and he knew the answer you didn’t want to hear.
“It’d be an honor,” you cooed, because of course you already knew which way he was leaning, “To be with you like that. Forever.”
“Greedy,” he teased, slipping from his knees to sit back. He scooped you up with his hold around your waist to settle you atop his lap, his other two hands cupped your cheeks. Your own hand moved down to the base of his throat, fingers tracing the bridge of his collarbones, “Eating you would be a disservice to this beautiful body.”
The word is nourishing, spring water on a dry tongue. You used to fear a long, drawn-out death (not death, not around Sukuna), you’ve seen these same sunken eyes and shaking hands in others. And you did not find them awe-inspiring. But Sukuna has given you no question if his eyes still fell upon you kindly.
You frowned and he scoffed, “You won’t even think about it?”
But Yuuji has no idea about any of that.
Yuuji sits beside you and takes your hands tightly between his, “I can always come back.”
“I know!” you lean in and kiss his cheek sweetly, “I’m just curious.”
Because there has to be something Sukuna can offer if he insists on maintaining this obsession with you (in front of your boyfriend, no less).
“Are you nervous, bunny?”
Your heart beats in your throat. Your palms soak into the sheets when you grip them. Your bottom lip is on the brink of bleeding between your teeth. But no, no you are not nervous.
No matter how much you probably should be. And no matter how much it should’ve taken, Sukuna doesn’t take long to put you on your back - lips locked to yours. He cackles cruelly when you huff after he pulls away.
Sukuna binds your knees together, plush thighs trapped against one another. Releasing one knee just to feed his cock through the wetted spot between your thighs, he quickly flushes his chest against the back of your thighs. Both arms winding around your legs to keep them shut around him.
“So wet from just a little kissing,” he stares down at where the head of his cock peeks out, kissing your clit on the way. He fucks your thighs slowly, taking earnest joy in how you whine.
Your teeth sink into the back of your hand at the sensation of Sukuna parting your lips and bumping your clit with his dick. He groans, deep in the back of his throat, when he can feel that gush of slick from your cunt.
“I knew this brat couldn’t care for my bunny as I can,” he slips from between your thighs entirely to press his tip inside you. Your chest rises in a quick gasp, jerking at the intrusion, “You missed me,” he states simply, settling his weight on his elbows beside your head as he teases slow thrusts, “Cunt’s sucking me back in,” he snickers at your squeaking as his hips speed up, “You missed me so much.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t call him on it when he’s clawing at your sides and thighs to flip you onto your stomach, perking your hips snugly against his.
“I’ve seen him,” his hand presses against your lower belly, thrusting down and deep and hitting that spot Yuuji magically detects and obsesses over - that spot that makes drool humiliate the corners of your lips, “That brat abusing your poor clit. Like you can’t cum without it.”
“Huh…” your mushy brain barely registers the disrespect to your boyfriend, “hey…!”
“Do you wanna show him I can fuck you better?” despite that questioning lilt, you don’t think a response could change his pre-determined mind, “I can make you cum without setting a fire between your legs.”
He pulls out slow and miserable, smoothing the hand not on your tummy down your back and curling into your hair.
Sukuna leans his weight into you when he bottoms out, he laughs watching your cheek smush against your mattress. He laughs as his hand untangles from your hair to squeeze around the soft fat of your hip. He laughs when you wheeze with the springs as he pulls out and thrusts back in, rolling his hips flush against you.
“What a good bunny I have,” he coos, slicking his hot tongue over the exposed flesh of your neck, relishing in how his skin audibly pap, papa, paps against yours. You moan, lightheaded, and your forehead hangs into your pillow. He presses on that spot where he bulges inside you, going mad over the choked gasp in your throat, “My sweet bunny.”
Curling an arm around your throat, Sukuna’s muscles squeeze around the soft flesh of your neck. Desperately, the skin of his chest clings to your back as he leans down, teething at the sensitive spot on your shoulder - the one Yuuji bites and the one he bit for himself centuries ago. Licking the sweat from your body and cackling as you squirm under the slick, wet run of his tongue.
His hips quicken, borderline battering that spot in your cunt to really make you messy. You bury your face into the soft pillow, but Sukuna ‘tsk’s and undoes the arm from your neck to lift your chin. He licks up the drool from your lips and swallows the pitchy moans he’s been starving for from behind Yuuji’s ears.
He consumes you, melding your skin to his and ensuring you cannot leave again.
“Good- “ he grits it between clenched teeth, “girl! Good girl. Good girl,” he grunts each word between thrusts. He groans, thick and gravelly, digging his nails into your soft skin, “My best fucking girl.”
Your face is on fire, the backs of your thighs clinging to Sukuna’s, and the wetness of your cunt stringing between the both of you. Loud, sloppy echoes of that wetness only make the fire burn hotter. You whine, hands scrambling back and clinging to Sukuna’s thighs, nails biting into the thick muscle.
“Aw, you’re squeezing me,” Sukuna refuses to slow down, bouncing your body on his cock from behind, “Are ya gonna cum, bunny?”
And any respect you were trying to maintain for your out-of-commission boyfriend is quickly tossed aside, “Yes! Yes, ‘m gonna cum, Sukuna…!”
“You want me to make you cum?” he reaches both hands down and takes hold of your face, fingers dipping into your open mouth, “Say it, bunny - fuck - say you want me to make you cum.”
As best you can through his fingers parting your lips and pressing on your tongue, you cry, “Please, Sukuna- please, please make me cum. Wanna cum, wanna cum with you, need you to make me cum…!”
“Need me,” Sukuna repeats, palms soft against you despite bullying his cock into your weepy hole, “Need me, need me, need me…”
“Uh… huh,” you whine, the coil in your stomach eats at itself and your thighs shake, “Need you, Sukuna! Need - hah! - need�� cum, please!”
“Cum for me, bunny,” he teases his fingers further into your throat, just to see if you’ll remember.
“God- fuck!” your hands cinch around his thighs just as your cunt does to his cock, tugging him closer, deeper as you finally soak him in your cum. Chanting his name with a sugary, soft, “Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna!”
You don’t seem to recognize it, the need to cum overshadowing the need to meld your bodies into one.
His cock spits hot cum in your tight, sucking cunt despite the realization. He keeps himself pressed against you, dragging his fingers from your mouth and circling his arms around your soft waist.
Sukuna rolls onto his back, pulling you on his chest and letting his softening cock slip from you. He peppers your raw, marked shoulder in tender kisses - then moving to your neck - then your cheek. He feels your cheeks ball up in a grin under his attention.
Your ditzy head falls against his shoulder and he doesn’t know how much longer he has like this. So he ignores the cooling saliva on his fingers and the mixed cum flowing from your hole and onto his thigh. He never minded the mess before, and he certainly doesn’t mind it now.
“Don’t forget me, hm?” you blink up at him drowsily, “If you ever get tired of that brat.”
You don’t remember asking him to gobble you up, and you don’t remember wanting to clutch his hand in your final moments, but you still see something in him. Something he thought was sealed away long, long ago.
He misses you. Whatever life you shared, he hasn’t been able to mourn.
Giggling, you nod and kiss his cheek. He slips hair from your hair and studies the way you flutter into sleep. Commits it to his memory and lets Yuuji take back the body with little more than a scoff.
You rouse later in the night, feeling your bed dip beside you, a thick warm arm sweeping you into an equally warm chest. A steady heartbeat ba-dumps into your ear. You nestle into the cradle.
“Cleaned ya and then showered,” Yuuji murmurs, lips soft against your forehead, “I take it you liked the big guy?”
Snorting, you nod sluggishly, cheek sticking to his skin, “Mhmm.”
“Good,” he suddenly groans, “Sukuna doesn’t know anything!”
“Mh?”
“I can make you cum without your clit,” he pouts, looking down at you despite your closed eyes, “You believe in me, right, babe?”
“Mhm.”
“Exactly. Thank you!” he kisses your forehead this time, “Alright, we’ll try that another day. Get some sleep already, jeez!”
“Hm!” you huff fitfully.
“Okay, okay,” he whispers, “Shutting up now.”
And, for now, you ignore how right it felt to have Sukuna’s mean fingers fucking your mouth.
~~~
people i think will be into this @moonlitdivination @kingofthe-egirls
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freedomfireflies · 7 months
Text
Jealous*
Summary: The fourth part to 404*
The one where Harry's even more annoying when he's jealous.
But he's kind of cute, too.
Word Count: 5.6k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)
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“Head back, tongue out.”
Quickly shifting onto your knees, you glance up at the man before you. Watching eagerly as Harry’s large hand strokes the hardened cock that lingers near your lips.
His other palm reaches out for your neck, slowly sliding up into your hair before tugging you back even further. “Like this,” he murmurs, only satiated when you oblige. “Good girl. Show me your tongue, Tink. Come on, not gonna ask you again.”
Quickly, you rush to obey, presenting it to him willingly as you scoot closer and silently plead for his offering.
He gives you a rare, pleased smile that makes your insides jump before he brings his cock closer to your mouth, tapping it twice. “Gonna swallow it all, yeah? Like a good little cumslut?”
Nodding fervently, your lashes flutter in a somewhat desperate attempt to coax him closer to release.
To this, he exhales an amused breath, smirk growing until you see that familiar and infuriatingly charming dimple. “You’re a lot less annoying when you’re desperate, you know that?”
You swat at his thigh. “Shut up and cum in my mouth already.”
“Eager, are we?”
“The fuck do you think? Just do it, come on.”
“See, there you go again. Don’t know how to romance a guy, do you?”
“And why would I ever want to romance you?”
He laughs and sweeps the tip of his cock along your bottom lip. “Because deep down…you like me. Don’t you, Princess?”
And before you can reply with another quippy retort, he’s sliding himself along your tongue, and filling your mouth completely.
It doesn’t take long for that warm, salty tang to go slipping down your throat. Effortlessly coating your taste buds as Harry tightens his grip on your head and releases a rather lascivious groan.
“Fuck…there you go, that’s a good girl,” he murmurs, using his other hand to brace himself against the wall to keep upright. “Take it…fucking take it, Tink, good. Feel so fucking good, don’t you? Such a tight little mouth, yeah?”
He’s babbling, a string of nonsense and praises falling from his tongue, but you revel in it. Indulge in the way you’re the only one on his mind, the only one to make him fall apart so quickly.
And you imagine you’d both like to stay here in the lobby coat closet for at least a few more minutes (or a few more rounds), but before you can entertain the idea, your phone is going off.
The shrill alarm cuts the moment in two, slicing it right down the middle as you pop off his cock and reach over to turn it off.
In turn, Harry blinks, breathing still a tad ragged as he steps back. “What…what is that for?”
“Oh, I have a meeting with Mr. Prescott in five.” You straighten up onto your feet and swipe the back of your wrist across your mouth. “This was fun, though. Thanks.”
Harry blinks. “Wow. Way to dine and dash.”
“Funny,” you snort as you head for the door. “Anyway, I think I’ll be good for a while, so…no need to keep dragging me in here.”
“I didn’t drag you,” he argues with a huff while yanking his jeans back up. “I casually suggested it and you jumped at the opportunity.”
“Mm…wrong.”
“Mm…right. Face it, Princess, you can’t stop thinking about me.”
“Actually, I think about everybody but you,” you tell him. “Seriously, just the sound of your name kills my libido. It’s quite sad.”
His eyes roll. “Fucking go already, I have shit to do.”
“Fine, but you have to wait at least three minutes,” you remind him as you slip out into the hallway. “I mean it. Cassie almost saw us last time and I was mortified. So be less suspicious this time.”
“Come on, do you really think I want people to know we’re shagging?” he retorts, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall in wait. “Getting seen with you at the bar was already bad enough.”
“Yeah? Is that why you stuck your hand down my pants in front of everybody?”
“Okay, you know what—”
“No, I don’t. Bye,” you call before swinging the door shut.
Harry’s muffled grumbling follows you all the way to the elevator.
You can’t help but grin as you step inside and hit the button for the fifth floor, flashes of his hands and practiced fingers flooding the forefront of your mind.
You might still hate him, but you suppose you don’t mind his company as much anymore. He’s not as irritating as he was when you first started this little arrangement, and you’ve noticed his technique has gotten better. He’s always been good, but recently he seems to be trying incredibly hard to make each time the best. 
Not that you’d dare complain. After all, it’s not like you’ve really—
“Wait, hold the door!”
Quickly, you reach out and press your palm against the sliding entrance, keeping it inside the frame as the stranger swiftly slides through.
You watch as he gratefully slumps against the railing, seemingly out of breath as he nods his appreciation and allows you to release your hand.
“Thank you,” he exhales, head dropping back against the wall as the elevator takes off. “Thought I was gonna have to take the stairs.”
“No problem,” you return before gesturing toward the buttons. “Which floor?”
“Fifth,” he answers, smiling when he notices it’s already been selected. “You, too?”
“Yeah, I work in the lab.”
Curious, the man straightens up. “No kidding. You’re one of the engineers?”
“Mhm. For about four years now.”
“No fucking way,” he replies, studying you with interest. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah, actually. Pay is good, hours are better.”
“Ah, very nice,” he muses. “In that case, do you think you’d be able to show me to Prescott’s office?”
“Sure. I’m headed there now, actually.”
“Yeah?” His head tilts. “Wait, shit…you wouldn’t be working on the Keaton Project, would you?” 
Surprised by his knowledge on your current work, you blink. “Uh…yes, actually. How did you…?”
“I’ve been hired to help with your development operations,” he tells you. “Just for a couple weeks, see where you’re at.”
“Oh, that’s good. Harry and I could use the help.”
The mystery man smirks. “Good. S’what I like to hear.”
With that, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open, allowing you and the stranger to begin down the hall and toward the main office.
After a rather interesting discussion with Mr. Prescott, you learn a bit more about Lucas, your new project partner. 
He’s incredibly smart and well spoken, he’s got some wonderful ideas for the website, and he’s absolutely going to drive Harry up the goddamn wall.
You’re practically giddy as you lead Lucas back to the lab to help him get set up. Already imagining the scowl on Harry’s face when he learns he’ll be sharing a space with someone else. Someone arguably much better suited for the position and with much fresher ideas. 
Unfortunately, Harry has already left for the day by the time you return. And while you’re somewhat disappointed that you’ll have to wait on the introductions, you use the rest of the shift to get acquainted with Lucas.
Turns out, he’s delightful, and you laugh harder with him than you have anybody else in a long time. He’s rather flirty, too, you notice, but you don’t mind. It’s nice to have such forward attention and you revel in his sneaky smiles and playful remarks.
You leave the lab that afternoon with a large grin, laughing when he calls, “Goodbye, Duchess,” as you walk out the door.
Come Monday morning, Harry is in a foul mood. You notice it before he’s even set foot into the room, the exasperated expression on his face visible from the parking lot.
He walks differently when he’s upset, you realize. With his hunched shoulders, clenched fists, and heavy footsteps that echo through the halls.
Everyone within a hundred-foot radius takes notice, shooting him odd looks as he strides by, but he pays them no mind. Instead making a beeline for his corner of the room where you reside before throwing his things down with a huff.
“Morning, Sunshine,” you call, turning in your chair to watch while he slumps into his. “What the hell is going on with your hair? It looks…well, like shit.”
A venomous glare is shot through the dark frames of his glasses. “Blow me, Princess. I’m not in the fucking mood today.”
“I can see that,” you reply calmly, hiding a smirk behind the rim of your coffee mug. “Hope you’re at least a little nicer to the new guy.”
Harry’s frazzled and irritated shuffling stills. “What new guy?”
“The new guy,” you say, nodding toward Lucas who’s beginning to make his way through the lab. “Prescott told you, right? He’s working with us for the next couple of weeks on development operations.”
Harry’s attention follows the tall, lanky figure as he moves between the tables, a frown beginning to form. “What the fuck?” he scoffs quietly but full of repulsion. “I’m sorry, since when do we need a fucking babysitter?”
“He’s not a babysitter, Harold. He’s just extra help—”
“We don’t need extra help,” Harry bites back. “Okay, I had it covered—”
“Clearly, yeah. Is that why the simulation kept glitching—”
“It wasn’t glitching, the code was just off. But I had it handled—”
“Sure, yeah. Obviously. That’s why Prescott hired someone else—”
“Duchess,” comes a new addition to the conversation, forcing you and Harry to lean back as Lucas approaches. “Hey, listen. Thank you again for showing me where to set up my shit, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” you return with a smile. “Seriously, anything we can help you with, just let us know.”
He nods. “Perfect, yeah. Most of it is just working on the HTML, but eventually I’d like your input on the file transfer.”
Peeved, Harry’s eyes flitter across the man’s face. “Right. And you are?”
“Lucas,” he replies brightly, offering you both a charming smile. “Yeah, sorry. Met Duchess here the other day on the elevator. You must be…Harry, right?”
Harry’s eyebrows begin to weave together, broad shoulders straightening up ever-so-slightly. “Why the fuck were you in our elevator?”
“Well, Duchess was showing me up to the lab," Lucas says, nodding his chin at you while you share a smirk. "Helped me set up, which was really sweet.”
You wave the compliment away while Harry slowly turns to you and subtly mouths, “Duchess?”
You shoot him a pointed look. “Yes. Well. Anyway, Harry and I are really excited about working with you. Aren’t we?”
Harry merely returns your stare with a glare of his own before gritting his teeth. “Fucking ecstatic.”
If Lucas picks up on the charged air between you, he doesn’t comment on it, instead grinning again as he steps back. “Perfect. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
You nod. “Absolutely. Oh, we’re still on for lunch, right?”
“Of course,” he calls before returning to the hallway, leaving you with a very displeased partner. 
You blink.
“Lunch?” Harry repeats, almost incredulously. “You’re having fucking lunch with the babysitter now?”
You snort. “It’s lunch, not an orgy. Relax, Harold—”
“And what the fuck is with the degrading nickname?” he continues, nodding his chin in the direction Lucas disappeared to before nudging his glasses back up. “He sounds like a fucking twat.”
“For your information, Duchess means queen,” you tell him haughtily. “And I love it. It’s a lot nicer than anything you call me.”
“I call you the same fucking thing—”
“No, you call me Tinkerbell,” you correct. “And Princess. Which is nice. But Queen trumps Princess. Sorry.”
He makes another noise before spinning around in his seat, turning his back to you. “Fucking ridiculous. Fine, have your fucking tea parties and your fucking nicknames while I get some real shit done.”
“It’s not a tea party, it’s lunch—”
“Oh, my apologies, your Royal Fucking Highness.”
You smirk.
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“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Got it stuck right up there. Poor thing had to go to the emergency room just to get it removed.”
Lucas laughs – a loud, infectious laugh – while glancing down at his plate with a shake of his head. “Shit. I bet he enjoyed that.”
“No. No, not at all,” you chuckle. “And he wouldn’t speak to me for about a week afterward. Honestly? It was the best week of my life.”
“I imagine.” He runs a long finger around the rim of his glass in thought. “So, he’s always been like that, then? Kind of…sullen? And moody?”
Smiling to yourself, you run through your memories of the brooding man you’ve known for years. Remembering the first day you met, and the way you instantly became enamored by those bright green eyes and chestnut curls.
“No,” you admit. “No, he used to be…fun. Nice. Shy, even.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he was…I mean, he was nervous, I think. It was one of his first jobs out of university, and I think he just wanted to do a good job.”
“Makes sense,” Lucas replies. “From what I’ve seen, he’s quite good at what he does.”
“He is,” you agree, almost begrudgingly. “Always has been, which is really annoying.”
He smiles. “So, what happened? What made him switch?”
You release a heavy sigh and shrug your shoulder. “Honestly…I don’t know. There was a bit of a dark period. He stopped talking to people, stopped going out. Got a motorcycle of all things. And then he just…wasn’t the same.”
“And he never talked about it?”
You snort. “No, Harry doesn’t…talk. About personal things. At least not with me. And asking never gets me anywhere.”
A quiet pause settles over your small table before Lucas leans closer.
“I think he trusts you, Duchess,” he says. “And I think he’s scared of how much.”
“That’s quite an observation from someone who just met him.”
“What can I say, it’s my superpower,” he teases. “But I mean it. His hostility felt…forced. Like he was putting up a wall to save face. And if he really didn’t like you…he wouldn’t spend so much of his time trying to be near you.”
It’s a nice thought. Sweet, even, and you’re almost tempted to entertain the idea.
But you know Harry. You know his cruel jokes, and his pensive demeanor. You know that he fucks to drown out the rest of the world, and that he’d rather spend the rest of his life alone than in someone else’s company.
So, you simply sigh, and offer Lucas another shrug. “Yeah, well. If that were the case, I’d hope he’d at least—”
“The fuck is all this?”
The two of you turn toward the sound of Harry’s huffed remark, smirking to yourselves when you see that familiar frown.
“Uh…lunch,” you reply calmly, raising an eyebrow. “Like I told you.”
Harry comes to a stop just beside the table, flicking his glare between you. “It takes you a fucking hour to eat?”
Your eyes narrow. “It hasn’t been an hour, and we were talking.”
“So you were wasting time?”
Lucas grins, and you catch the way he glances down at the table to hide his amusement.
You straighten up and direct your displeasure toward Harry. “We were not wasting time, we were eating and getting to know each other. Is that all right with you?”
“No,” Harry says simply, and it infuriates you. “You don’t get paid to talk shit.”
“We were not—” You suck in a sharp breath, silently commanding yourself to remain relaxed. “Do you want something?”
“Yes, actually. Prescott wants to see us.”
You blink. “Why?”
“Don’t know.”
You look to Lucas, confused and slightly annoyed while Lucas leans back curiously.
“I’ll come with you,” he offers as you both stand. “If it’s about the project, maybe I can help explain—”
“We don’t need your help,” Harry interjects bluntly. “And he didn’t ask for you. He asked for us.”
You shoot another peeved look his way. “Harry—”
“Really, it’s no problem,” Lucas tries. “I probably need to get caught up, anyway—”
“Then catch up on your own fucking time,” Harry nearly snaps, large hand outstretching to snatch onto your upper arm. “If we need you, we’ll ask for you.”
With that, he begins to drag you away from the table, leaving Lucas and his mystification behind.
Stumbling along, you begin to fight against Harry’s firm grip, already wildly annoyed. “What the fuck is your problem—”
“Your car is fixed, right?” is all he says, keeping his eyes forward as he leads you through the lobby and toward the parking lot.
You hesitate. “Uh…yeah? Why?”
“Where is it?”
Your lashes flutter as you look from him to the array of vehicles before you. “Um…there. By the tree.”
With a short nod, he yanks you forward, guiding you to your car without so much as an explanation. 
Still irritated, you slip yourself free right as he stops beside the trunk. “The hell are you doing—”
He opens the backdoor. “Get in.”
“What?”
“I said get in,” Harry repeats, “Duchess.”
You frown. “And why would I do that?” 
“Because I’m gonna fuck you.”
And you almost want to laugh because you can’t believe where he got the nerve. “You’ve got to be kidding—”
“I’m not,” he says, rather assuredly before guiding his glasses back up. “Get in.”
“Harry…this is so fucking—”
“Don’t care.” He nods his chin toward the backseat. “In, Princess.”
You reckon you should stand your ground and refuse him. Tell him how childish he’s being, how vulgar, how rude. Make it clear that he doesn’t get to stomp his foot and demand you do as you’re told just because he’s upset.
And yet…your legs urge you forward until you’re slipping inside the car and settling on the other side.
Harry follows suit, yanking the door shut to close out the rest of the world before facing you. “Take off your jeans.”
However, your expression is menacing as you begin to fumble with the zipper on your pants. “You’re so fucking pathetic, you know that?”
“Yeah,” he says simply, but he’s beginning to smile as he tugs off his own belt. “But I’m not as pathetic as whatever the fuck that was.”
“What was? A harmless, friendly lunch?”
“Please,” he snorts. “He was clearly flirting with you, and it was hard to watch.”
Your eyes roll as you tug your jeans down your legs. “He was not flirting with me, he was just being nice—”
“Guys aren’t nice,” he retorts. “Not for nothing. He wanted something from you, and I spared you from having to pretend you were interested. You’re welcome.”
“Oh, really? And what did he want? To fuck me? Like you so desperately want to do?”
He scoffs, but he’s smirking. “I fuck you to make you feel better.”
“Right, okay.” You wiggle your underwear down your thighs. “Who’s to say he wasn’t gonna do the same?”
“He wasn’t,” he replies simply. “Trust me. Get up.”
With a huff, you oblige, turning around so you can settle on your hands and knees while Harry gets situated behind you. Strong hands melding to your hips to keep you steady.
His fingers move to smooth between your cheeks and down to your cunt, stroking it softly to prepare you.
Then, he chuckles. “And who is this for, hm?” he taunts, dipping into your arousal to spread it around. Ignoring the way you inhale a sharp hiss. “Me or him?”
You brace yourself against the seat of the car, chin dropping to your chest. “Him,” you grit. “Obviously.”
Harry hums, thumbing at your clit. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, there’s a sharp smack to your left ass cheek that makes you reel, the pain instantly dissolving into pleasure as you whine. 
“Try again,” he tsks before slipping a practiced finger inside. “And this time…be honest.”
“I’m always honest,” you argue, already breathless from the feel of his touch. “How could it ever be for you?”
You can’t see him, but you imagine he’s smiling, entertained by your bratty behavior as he adds a second digit. Curling and pumping at a deliciously slow pace. 
“You’re right,” he finally answers. “You hate me. You’d never get wet for me.”
You swallow another noise. “Exactly.”
“And if I fuck you…you’ll moan his name. Won’t you, Tink?” 
“Yes.”
“Think about him the whole time. Beg him for what you think he can give you.”
“Shit—”
“Imagine his tiny, soft little cock. Too small to get you off. Probably wouldn’t even feel it, would you?”
He’s cruel. Sadistic and outrageously annoying. But he knows exactly how to play you, and you damn him to hell for how well it works. 
He reaches around your body to tug your shirt up, pushing it over your tits until he can take a nice handful.
You love his hands. Love the way his skin feels against yours. The way he tweaks your nipple and rolls it around.
“Like that, don’t you?” he coos, the rhythm of his strokes through your pussy ever steady. “Know you do. Cause I know your body, Princess. Better than he ever will.”
You try to ignore the pleasure that ripples across the deep of your stomach, keeping your focus on the stitching beneath you. You hate when he’s right.
Suddenly, and without warning, he rips his fingers out, leaving you empty and dripping while you groan.
“Easy,” he tuts, now tugging his cock free. He shifts some, propping his leg up onto the seat while his other foot remains on the floor. “Gonna have to be quick, aren’t we? Since you wasted so much of our lunch break with him.”
You exhale a scoff at this, glancing back just long enough to glare.
He grins.
“Stay still,” he instructs, dragging the tip through your folds. Spreading you gently and moaning when he sees his cock glisten with you. “Just like that, s’a good girl. Gonna make it better. Gonna fuck you right.”
The first push in is heaven. It always is, and you aren’t sure why. Like adding the final piece to the puzzle. Complete, in a sense.
Your nails curl into the seat below, a futile attempt at finding some stability as his thick cock stretches you open. 
You hear him hiss through gritted teeth, his hands once again finding your waist to hold you in place. “Breathe,” he suddenly calls, smacking your leg once. “You’re not breathing.”
“Sorry,” you gasp, forcing air back into your lungs. “Don’t…don’t know why I do that.”
He makes a small, entertained noise before allowing you a moment to adjust. “Feels that good, yeah? Do I take your breath away?”
“Blow me,” you retort, but you can’t help smiling. 
Finally, he settles himself all the way, sinking into your warm cunt rather comfortably as you both release sighs of relief. 
“There it is,” you hear him murmur, his fingers curling into your side before he pulls back. “Okay, easy. Easy, Tink, yeah? Shit—”
The rapid but hard pace is addictive. Perfectly full and pleasurable with each thrust and snap of his hips against your ass. 
Despite the somewhat small space, Harry finds a way to bend your body to his will. Keeping you below him as he drives himself faster and faster. Uncoordinated and unrhythmic. He’s merely chasing the feeling, chasing the way your pussy pulls him in. Clenches around him, soaks him, keeps him warm.  
“You know what?” he suddenly seethes, surging forward until he finds a new angle. “I think you were right…think you should have gone with him.”
You want to respond – want to make any other noise besides these strained whimpers, but it’s useless. Your voice forming around his name yet again as your toes curl.
“You were better before he came along,” he says, hand coming down to slap against your ass. The sound echoing around the tiny constraints of the vehicle. “Tighter. Needier. So fucking easy.”
Your lashes flutter, eyes rolling back. He’s feeding into the part of you that likes to be degraded, and you feel a chill dance down your spine.
“Did anything I fucking wanted. Took my cock like a good girl,” he continues. “Let me stretch you. Let me train you. Break you. Have my fucking way with my fucking pussy. Behaved so well for me.”
Another spank is had to your tender skin, and you cry out as you bury yourself into the seat below.
“Now, well…now you're just useless to me. Aren’t you, Princess?” His movements get sloppier. Faster. “Now you waste your time with him.”
In any other moment, you’d refute his comments. Play his game, egg him on.
But in this moment – a moment where your singular focus is him and only him – you find that you can only shake your head quickly and with misery. “No. No, just you.”
You hear him chuckle, and it makes a new wave of arousal rush between your legs. A type of praise you thrive on. “Just me, huh? But you’re not my whore anymore, are you? You’re his—”
“No,” you whimper, writhing when he reaches down to press his fingers to your clit. “Yours…you…only you.”
“I don’t know, Tink. Seemed awful smitten with him. Same way you used to be smitten with me—”
You can do nothing but whine pitifully as you push back into his touch, ass raised and spread in front of him.
Another smack ripples across your cheek before he kneads the flesh with his free hand, circling your clit with the other. “What? What do you wanna say, baby, hm? Wanna beg me to let you cum? Is that what you want?”
You try to nod, but your cheek is pressed firmly to the seat of the car. 
“I know you’re close,” he murmurs, shifting some so he has a better position to fuck himself into you quicker. “God, you’re so fucking close. Can feel your pretty little walls clamping down on me. You’re fucking shaking, baby, come on. Come on, let go. I’ll let you cum. Go ahead.”
To accompany his instruction, he begins to rub the sensitive nerves in a harder fashion. Pressing them down as he forces your body to comply.
It happens all in the same moment. There’s no time for preparation or warning as you release a strangled gasp that disappears into his equally fervent moan.
Instantly, he releases your clit to take hold of your hips with both hands, and slam his cock into you – sheathing himself completely as he releases his load.
It’s familiar and incredible. The car is hot and filled with the sounds of your ecstasy. You’re drowning in it – drowning in him. In the way he makes you feel, in the blinding pleasure that still travels down the back of your neck all the way to your toes.
It’s deep and it’s full and it’s endless. One of the best you’ve had, and you can’t help but smile as you work to catch your breath.
You begin to slump forward as Harry chases after you. Slipping his arm beneath your stomach to keep you upright and turn you toward him as his cock slips out. 
“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, glancing over the part of your face he can see. “You all right? You breathing?”
You nod weakly. “Mhm. M’good. So good.”
You catch his soft smile. “Good.”
He reaches for your panties, gently dragging them back up until they settle around your hips. Keeping what’s left of his cum inside of you.
“Just in case Lucas gets any ideas,” he teases, shooting you a wink before helping you sit up. 
You both begin to wrangle your clothing back on, redoing belts and buttons as you work to catch your breath. 
Oddly enough, Harry doesn’t rush to exit the car, and you find yourself somewhat surprised. Instead, he merely readjusts his glasses, runs a hand through his hair, and slumps back against the seat.
And for some reason, the sight of his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils makes you grin. And you find that you can’t resist moving closer and crawling onto his lap.
Once you’re straddled across his thighs, you dip down, and take his lips with yours. Kissing him hard and with everything you haven’t been able to give him before, ignoring his look of his surprise. 
But he kisses you back, exactly the way you knew he would. Taking hold of your body once more to keep you close.
Tongues and teeth clash – it’s messy and rushed, yet effortless and easy. And you can’t help but smile giddily as you tug on his bottom lip.
When you finally pull back to breathe, Harry is wearing a similar expression, seemingly dazed and amused as he holds you on his lap.
Chuckling, you swipe your thumb across his mouth. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”
He nips at your finger to make you squeal. “I know.”
A quiet moment settles then as you study him, feeling entranced and relaxed by the soft green behind his crooked glasses.
With a gentle smirk, you push them back up, and whisper, “Were you really jealous?”
His snobby scoff makes you laugh. “I was not fucking jealous, Tinkerbell. You just don’t know him.”
“Neither do you,” you retort. “He’s really nice. He just wants to help.”
He groans again, letting his head drop back. “For fuck’s sake, Princess. You’re so goddamn trusting—”
“Yeah, I am. After all, I trust you.”
His eyes fall to yours. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He smiles again, and you feel your heart flutter. Reminded yet again of the way things used to be – a time before the hostility and angry comments.
You think back to what Lucas said. His inquiry on the shift, and while you’re sure nothing good can come from your prying, you find yourself asking, “What happened?”
Harry blinks. “What?”
“To you. To us, I guess,” you ask, growing oddly nervous under his confused stare. “When you first started, you were so…nice. And happy. And sweet, even.”
His expression falls, settling into a chilling frown.
“And then…I don’t know, something happened,” you continue, now a bit quieter. “You changed, you got…angry, and tense, and you just…you hid yourself away, you know? And don’t get me wrong, I like bickering with you, I just…I guess I’ve always wondered what…went…wrong?”
You feel him tense beneath you. The way his hands tighten and the way that soft green turns into a raging storm of indifference and spite.
Almost within the blink of an eye, he disappears into another version of himself. One that refuses to participate in this discussion and one that desperately wants to remove himself from you.
You can feel him slipping away. Can feel the drop in your stomach – a pit a mile deep. Normally, you like to piss him off. But this is different, this is…this isn’t what you want.
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing once. “Why does it fucking matter?”
“I don’t…I guess it doesn’t,” you stammer, shrugging once. “I just wondered, is all. I don’t mind, or anything, I just…I was thinking about it—”
“Why?”
“I…I don’t know. Lucas asked, and I thought—”
“Lucas?” It’s a venomous scoff that makes you jolt. “Let me guess. He was just trying to help—”
“No, he just…he asked what you were like, and I said that you…you—”
“I what?”
“That…fuck, I just said things used to be different,” you huff, but your cheeks feel warm. You’re embarrassed. Disappointed in yourself for pushing. For ruining the first calm moment the two of you have ever shared. “And it made me think about it, so I…I wanted to ask—”
“Well don’t,” he seethes, releasing your waist as if trying to get away from you. “It’s none of your fucking business.”
“I know,” you agree, sliding off his lap to give him a bit of space. “I know, I’m sorry, I just…I thought maybe I could help.”
He shoots you a look that splits right through you. It’s cold and it’s incredulous and it makes your throat run dry. 
“Why?” he says again, studying you closely. “Why the fuck would you want to help?”
Truthfully, you aren’t sure. “I don’t know. Maybe because there’s a part of me…a very small part…that doesn’t totally hate you? I guess?”
You wince as you say it. You hate the way it sounds. Hate what it implies because you do hate him. 
But not enough to leave him when he needs you.
Harry’s lashes flutter at your response, and he watches you for a moment more before he leans back, and his expression twists.
“Yeah, well…it doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, almost to himself as he reaches for the handle on the door. “So don’t fucking worry about it.”
Confused and somewhat dejected, you lean forward. “Har—”
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“…what?”
He sighs, looking down toward the floor. Refusing your eye. “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t…I don’t want to do this. With you. It’s too fucking…there’s too much extra shit. All right, it was fun, but I don’t…I’m done.”
There are a hundred things you want to say. A hundred excuses, a hundred pleas, a hundred retorts.
But none of them feel fitting as you watch him push the door open and step out. 
He hesitates, almost as though expecting you to stop him. To argue and call him back.
Yet you don’t. Because you know that nothing you say will ever be able to change his mind.
He’s already decided.
“Fine,” you whisper, offering a short nod. “Yeah, fine. Whatever you want.”
He looks at you. Finally. Expression filled with a solemn sort of goodbye before he nods as well.
And the door slams shut.
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
Text
just tonight pt 2
summary: you and chris are forced to discuss moments of your past when the night before changes everything part 1
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I woke up with the sun shining far too brightly through the partly closed curtains. The hotel room air conditioner hummed as a chill overtook the room. I tried to pull the covers over me, but I struggled, dead weight on top of them.
I turned over my shoulder, finding Chris, knocked out. His lips were parted slightly, the slightest snore leaving his mouth. I would normally find this annoying, but he looks so peaceful. His curls are messy, flopping across his forehead, some strands holding a tighter curl than others. I want to play with them while he sleeps like this. 
His body rises a little bit through every breath. I’m in a trance, watching his movements. I don’t realize how long I’ve been staring, but it’s long enough for him to feel my stare burning into him.
His eyes open slowly, barely, before he shuts them again, closing his mouth and humming. “Good morning.”
His low morning voice sends chills down my spine in the best way. I mumble, “Morning,” in response, the events of last night playing on repeat in my head. 
He gives me a soft smile before lifting his head weakly, making his fatigue known. He places it carefully in my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw before I feel his eyes shut, his lashes fluttering against my cheek. 
I can’t stop myself from wondering if we made a mistake. It was just a kiss, and it doesn’t have to happen again. We don’t have to take it further. 
But right now I feel our hearts beating against each other and all I’m thinking about is how great it would be to wake up like this every day. 
We lay alone with our thoughts until Chris’ phone rings, a call from Nick. He sits up straight, his back on display as the duvet cover lays across his lap. 
“How fast can you get dressed?” Chris asks me, stepping out of the bed.
I do the same, assuming we’re in a rush. “I won’t take long, why?”
He digs around in his suitcase, pulling a graphic tee out and pulling it over himself. “Breakfast closes soon downstairs, and you’re in all my stuff. The boxers only make this look worse.”
I lower my gaze to my bottoms - a pair of his underwear. They hang lower on my hips due to my sleep, and Chris’ eyes can’t move them away. 
“Yeah,” I nod. “You’re right.”
The morning goes on with me and Chris back with Nick and Matt. Things have unfortunately gone back to exactly how they were before this trip. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I don’t know why I thought things would be different, but I would be a complete idiot to think that Chris would ever not treat me like shit. 
“I was looking around at places we could take pictures later today if you guys are down,” I suggest.
As Nick peeks over at my phone, a groan leaves Chris’ mouth. One full of disgust. Nick gives him a look and asks, “What’s your problem?”
“The less time I have to spend with her, the better,” he comments. “I’m miserable enough having to watch her while I eat, not to mention having to sleep in the same room.”
“Well, at least this way you can prove to Santa that you’re not a naughty guy after all and you can be moved to the nice list,” Matt teases, trying to break the tension at the table. 
I’m embarrassed at how my mood has been ruined because of Chris. Ten minutes ago he was curled in my arms, kissing my jaw softly, and now he won’t look at me. 
The worst part is, even when we’re alone in the car, or alone in public, he still won’t look at me. 
I can understand him trying to keep things ‘normal,’ whatever that means for us, in front of his brothers. But for him to completely ignore me and blow me off when we’re alone is uncalled for. We still have yet to talk about what happened last night, no matter how many times I have wanted to bring it up. The first step is getting his attention, but he has no intention of letting that happen. 
When the day ends and we all head to our rooms, I silently get myself ready for bed, ignoring him, just as he did to me. 
As I’m standing in the mirror removing my makeup, Chris comes up behind me, leaning against the wall as he watches me. 
“Can I help you?” I ask with a snappy tone, trying to set him off just as he was doing to me for hours today. 
He sinches his eyebrows together, like he can’t believe I would ask that. “Something wrong?”
I scoff. “You tell me.”
I finish up in the bathroom and walk back out to the bedroom. Without realizing what I’m doing, I scoop up my belongings, stuffing them into bags and hooking the straps on my arms. 
His eyes go wide as he races over to me. “What are you doing?”
“Getting another room.”
“No,” he stops me, or tries to at least. He makes an attempt to pull the bag off my arms, but I yank it back.
“Get off of me.”
“What are you doing?” he asks again. 
“I’m not staying in here with you,” I say simply. 
“Why not?”
“You know why!” I shout. I have this feeling in my throat like I’m going to crumble any second. I feel betrayed, taken advantage of, used. I feel awful. Why is he doing this to me? 
“I’m sorry,” he says, doe eyed. “Please, stay here with me. We can talk, we can kiss again or–”
“No, Chris!”
He takes a step back, defeat lingering around him. “I don’t know what I did,” he says softly. 
I head towards the door. “Then you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Do you think I want to act that way in front of everyone?” he fights back. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted things to be different? I’ve thought every day about how we could change things. I would change things if you’d let me, but I was never what you wanted. You pushed me away time and time again, and the only way for me to get over you was maintaining what we did have. We had a light hearted, teasing relationship, and whenever I threw something back at you, you threw it back with ten times more baggage.”
“So this is my fault?” I challenge his claims. “You’re using that excuse to let yourself believe that ignoring me all day as if you weren’t in my arms this morning was justified?”
“Please,” he mumbles. “Put your bags down.”
He looks at me like he’s on the verge of exploding. Like the dam is seconds from breaking. Like he needs me.
I toss my shit on the floor and stand in front of him, waiting. 
“None of this is your fault,” he promises. “None of it. I shouldn’t have treated you like this today, but after last night, I didn’t know how to be around you and them and act like I wasn’t daydreaming about you laying with me all night. I kept picturing you in my lap, kissing me. I wanted it all day. I wanted you. Every time I think I have you, you’re gone.”
I’ve never left him. His brothers are my best friends. Even when Chris is a dickhead, I still love him. I would never want anything but good things for him. 
“I would never leave you guys, Chris.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Chris, we used to be closer than anyone,” I remind him. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how to be your friend anymore in the way we were. You won’t let me be that for you anymore.”
“I do,” he insists. “Please, just hear me out. Don’t go anywhere.”
I let out a sigh at his desperation. Before I know it, he’s leading me to the bed.
“Prom senior year,” he starts. “Your date didn’t show up.”
He promised he wouldn’t mention that again.
“Chris–”
“It was Nate’s idea,” he interrupts me. “He told me to step in, and I finally had the balls to. I was running down the street to the store in a fucking tux. I ran in and got you flowers, and when I came back you were gone. Everyone was gone.”
My heart drops. No one ever told me why he was late to prom that day. No one told me he was making an effort for me. Everything would have been different. 
“You were gonna take me to prom?”
He swallows harshly as he nods, like he’s partly embarrassed for letting me know he failed, but that he’s proud of himself for trying.
“A few weeks later you came running into my room with the biggest smile on your face. You pulled my headset off while I was playing a game and made me guess why you were so giddy. I couldn’t guess, and you told me he asked you to be his girlfriend. The same guy that made you cry because he stood you up at prom, you were now his girlfriend. I felt like fucking shit. I tried to clean up the mess he made that night, and when I failed, he still won you? How was that fair?” he asks me. 
I don’t have any answers for him. 
“Then you spent the whole relationship telling me how awful he was,” he reminds me. “I was obviously going to be there for you if you needed me, but any time we were together, I had to pretend like I wasn’t interested. I had to try to respect your relationship with him, even though I hated him for making you miserable. I hated watching your smile fade and I hated that it was because of him. I did everything I could to cheer you up, and it worked, you know it did, but when you guys broke up, I thought it was my chance. You had no interest in me. It was so obvious. I just lost any hope of there being a chance with us, and the only way for me to get over that was to push you away.”
His words pour out of his mouth in a deep confession. Memories of us come flooding back into me like it was yesterday. Every look he gave me, every touch, every word shared.It’s all there. 
I can’t help but hate my ex even more for keeping Chris from me. 
I’m not mad at Chris anymore, but the frustration coursing through my veins masks my confusion for anger. And I aim it at the wrong person.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I thought you knew!” he shouts. 
We both stand in silence, staring at each other as our chests heave, trying to regain our composure. 
I shake my head, completely in shock at his confession. I used to cry to Nick, wondering why his brother was so mean to me after everything we shared together. He went from being the most important person to me to someone I barely knew. 
I feel like an idiot for wasting so much time trying to hate him when in reality he was trying to protect me from anything bad in the world. 
He couldn’t help it that he couldn’t catch up.
My face presses to Chris’ chest. I don’t know the moment I flung my arms around him and refused to let go, but the feeling of his heart beating against me brings me peace again, just like it did this morning in bed. 
“I called the hotel,” he says. “I changed the reservation.”
I pull back from his chest, staring up at him.
“If that makes you uncomfortable, and you want to go stay with Nick, I completely understand,” he says. “I didn’t think we were going to kiss. I wasn’t planning on making any moves. I just wanted us to be friends again. I wanted you back in my life in the right way.”
My hands hold his cheeks as my lips desperately search for his. His arms wrap around my back, holding me as close as possible. The kiss is rough, both of us trying to gain dominance. I pull back from him to catch my breath, staring at his glossy eyes. The guilt is written on his face. The secrets he held from me for years. 
“You could never lose me, Chris,” I assure him.
He rolls his lips into his mouth before licking his lips, basking in the taste of us. He nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. Fear takes over him before any sense of hope can. 
“We’re going to be okay, I promise.”
It was his idea to sit in bed and watch cartoons, and we did just that for the rest of the night. It was my idea to order room service. We laughed in that bed, sharing innocent kisses that were stolen from us over the years. I wasn’t going to let anyone or anything take that from us again.
“Chris?”
“Hmm?” he hums in response, his fingers tracing over my back where it had snaked up his shirt that was hugging my skin, just as it was the night before. 
“We won’t ever be just friends.”
He pauses for a moment before he responds.
“Good.” 
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luveline · 16 days
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i love the kbd universe so so much! could you please do one where sweet little bethie (☹️) has been getting a hard time from other kids at school/nursery for being ‘weird’/‘different’ and how steve and reader would handle it?? sorry if that’s too specific my lovely! hope you’re having a good day!! 🫶
thank you!! kbd au —steve employs your help when your daughter needs a pep talk. 1.5k
“Why’s my girl so sad?” 
“I’m not sad.” 
Steve raises his brows at Beth. She looks especially like you when she’s down. It’s sort of sad, thinking about it, how her lips turn like yours would, how she won’t meet his gaze or hold his hand when he tries to intertwine their fingers. 
“Aw, honey, don’t tell me tall tales,” he says, no actual scolding in his tone. He sees the shimmer of tears aligned on her bottom lashes and can’t abide her fibs anymore, scooping her off of the couch and into his arms. “Bethieeeee,” he whines, “tell me what’s wrong! You know I hate not knowing everything about you.” 
“Dad,” she says, letting her head loll in the curve of his neck, “nothing is wrong.” 
Liar, he thinks. From the kitchen he can hear you and Dove and baby Wren singing. Avery potters around in the downstairs bathroom, humming. Steve knows Beth is sad, because Beth is quiet, but she still has as much energy as the rest of her sisters when she’s home. She isn’t introverted when she’s with him, or her mother, and especially not the best big sister in the world. 
“Okay,” he says. He should poke and prod. Instead, he lifts her up as high as he can, which, not to brag, is quite high. “Hi up there. How’s the weather?” 
She jabs him in the chest with her foot. “It’s windy.” 
Steve laughs like an idiot and brings her down for some adoring kisses. “Super windy. Babe, you get funnier and funnier everyday.”
She wraps her arms behind his head. “Thank you.” 
“Ooh, you’re welcome. Should we go and sing some songs with mommy?” 
Beth shakes her head. “No.” 
“No?” 
“No.” She sounds like a baby. 
Steve sits down with an arm behind her back. He’d quite like a bit of peace and quiet. He doesn’t mind if she needs some too. “Then let’s stay right here, bub, jus’ me and you.” 
Dustin once said that Steve was about as much use as a paper cup in a hurricane when it came to comforting people, but that was nearly a decade ago, and it was before he met you. You rushed into Steve’s life (by accident on both sides) and showed him how it felt to be properly looked after for the first time ever. He can’t forget how that felt. Robin loves him but she couldn’t love him like that, couldn’t kiss a bruise and fix it whole, couldn’t ease a migraine with her fingers in his hair. You touch Steve’s arm and he can lift a ten tonner. 
He’s more equipped than ever to comfort someone now. He had a good teacher. 
“You have a long day today, huh?” he asks. 
“Not much.” 
He smiles. “Not much long?” he asks. 
“Dad,” she grumbles. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do… so you didn’t find it too long?” 
“I guess.” Beth touches under his chin. “You have sharpies.” 
“My stubble? Should I shave tonight?” 
“Yes,” she says emphatically. “Don’t like scratchy kisses.” 
“Oh, so you wanted more kisses?” he asks. “Would that help you feel better? How about we meet in the middle and get mom to kiss you? She’s not so sharp.” 
She sighs, her nose shoved into his collar. “Dad, can you rub my back?” 
Steve rubs her back immediately. She makes no other request, lips firmly shut and secret upset sealed away, feeling at his stubble with gentle fingers. She loves foreign sensations like this. It’s why she likes having her back rubbed, Steve theories; the pressure of his hand on her spine is dragging, and grounding. 
He shifts against the grain of a cushion behind his back. 
“I want to tell you,” Bethie says finally. 
“I always want to listen,” he promises. 
She doesn’t sound teary, more uncomfortable as she finally forces it out, “Nobody at school likes me.” 
“Babe, that’s not true at all.” 
“It is true. They all think I’m weird.” 
“I bet they don’t, babe.” 
“Dad, they all say it.” 
Steve bites his cheek as his mouth snaps shut. “Well,” he says quietly, cupping the side of her face, encouraging her head back to meet her eyes. They’re big in her little face, pupils like pearls, “that’s not very nice.” 
“It’s true.” 
“Not true.” 
“It is true,” she says angrily. 
“It’s not true, Beth, you’re not weird, and if you are weird then I’m weird, and that’s not a bad thing after all. Is it?” 
Internally, it breaks his heart. Beth has been different than the other kids for a long time and in lots of ways. She’s picky, peculiar. She eats things in her own fashion, and has interests outside of her peers. Steve didn’t know she was ‘abnormal’ until people started telling him —she’s his second baby. He didn’t think they were all the same, and so didn’t question her differences, and still doesn’t care to beyond wondering what he can do to make her happy. Who cares if Beth eats two bites of sandwich for every celery stick? 
The other kids. Some parents. 
“I don’t want to be weird,” she says, hanging her head. 
You arrive like a well-timed miracle, shimmying past the half open door with a smile. “Hi, guys. I want you to come and do karaoke, what do you think? I’m making everybody mocktails! We’re having pineapple juice and–” You lean back, hand on your hip, a slip of your stomach peaking out of your tank top, total picture of a cool mom as you cross your naked arms over your stomach. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?” you ask teasingly. 
Steve squeezes Beth to his neck. “Hey, none of your business!” 
“No, tell me,” you say, crossing the room to sit beside them on the couch. 
“You wanna tell her?” Steve asks. 
Beth shakes her head. “Didn’t want to tell you, dad.” 
“You did, lovely,” he says, all sympathy as you cuddle up to Steve’s side and wrap an arm around them both. “You said you wanted to tell me. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell us again, though. Mommy just wants to make you feel better, right?” 
“Right,” you say. When you smile at her, it’s with all the love in the world. 
She’s quicker to cry in her mother’s lap. She wiggles closer to your shoulder, her voice fraught as she confesses, “Everybody at school says I’m weird,” and erupts into breathless sobbing, like she’s terrified of the idea. 
Your eyes wrinkle as you close them tight, frowning into the top of her head. “Oh, my poor girl. My baby. Please don’t cry, because that’s not true. You’re not weird.” 
“Everybody says I am!” 
“I’m sorry,” you say, pushing Steve away accidentally as you wrap her into a proper hug. “Who says that?” 
“Mom, it’s everyone. Even my friends.” 
Kids can be so mean, when they aren’t trying and when they are. You mumble sweet placatives, fingers running up and down the length of Beth’s shuddering back. She cries like she’s hurting. Steve’s reminded of the time she fell down the stairs and hit her face on the baby gate, she was shocked but more urgently in pain, and she couldn’t work out why she’d fallen. 
“That’s not nice, Beth,” you’re saying, “I’m so sorry they’re saying mean things about you, but you’re not weird, I don’t know why they’d say something like that. They’re just not as nice as my girl.” 
“I’m different,“ she says. 
“That’s not a bad thing, Beth. You’re perfect. I wouldn’t want you any other way, and neither would your dad.”
Steve jumps in. “Right! We like you like this, babe. I don’t want you to change, I don’t care what all the meanies at school say, me and mom think you’re awesome. Avery and Dove and Wren all think you’re the best sister and best friend ever. Avery’s your best friend. Has she ever called you weird?” 
The baby talk is sinking in. If you used your bubbly voices on Avery it might not work anymore, but Beth is just about young enough for it to take. “No… You really think I’m not weird?” Beth asks sadly. 
No kid wants to think they’re weird, even if they are, and even if that’s okay. 
You sink down into your seat, taking Beth with you. Steve has to fight to cuddle you both. “I know you’re not,” you say. 
For a good five minutes, you just hug her. Steve ends up laying his cheek against your temple, hand on Beth’s back so she knows he’s there. When the baby starts babbling loudly for you to come back, Steve takes the short straw and leaves you both for cuddling. 
“What’s up, dad?” Avery asks, standing on a chair by the baby’s high chair, feeding her youngest sister cut up strawberries on a spoon. Dove eats her own strawberries with sliced bananas and peanut butter, the evidence of the latter staining her blue t-shirt.
Steve pats the top of Avery’s head. “Nothing much, baby. I’ve come to make you your mocktail.” 
“Oh, yes! With sugar? Bethie loves the sugar.” 
She doesn’t know how glad he is that she’s Beth’s big sister. “With the sugar.” 
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