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#it'd been wrapped and everything already
distantsonata · 8 months
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I fucked up like two pallets today and drove into a rack. so. uh. yeah I'm fucking nailing it fellas
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kenananamin · 7 months
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Tie my tie, marry me
Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him
It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.
You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.
Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.
He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.
"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.
Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.
Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.
The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.
It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.
You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.
"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"
You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.
Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.
Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."
His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.
Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.
Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.
Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.
"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"
Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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simon isn't a man you take home. he's for the literal streets. dresses like he's homeless because all that matters is that his throwing knives and handguns are pristine. the only reason his home is spotless is because he doesn't live in it, it's all for show. his pantry has only salt and mouse traps, his fridge a long expired bottle of ketchup and something that if anyone ate, they'd gain superpowers.
he's got a crazy look in his eye, and who can blame him after all that shit he's been through? gut-wrenching betrayal, unimaginable torture, then buried alive shoulder to shoulder with his ol rotting buddy, ol decaying pal? he joined the military a butcher's apprentice, and now he's an echo of what simon riley used to be, a fading silhouette that wanders the corridors in base. a ghost.
he has to play music whenever he's not at work just to keep the screaming voices in his head at bay, and it has to be loud enough to drown out the incessant high-pitched ringing in his ears. a cacophony of noise that wears his thin string of patience into in-existence.
he's a killer, he's a man who's donned his skull mask for so long that he's forgotten the face underneath.
you don't bring a man like him home. and when you eventually did, even your parents had agreed.
he looks one clown short of a circus.
he hovers over you like a ghost. (ha)
possessive, obsessive, paranoid.
he'll kill you if you try to leave him.
simon heard everything, not like they had tried to keep their voice down. it hadn't really mattered to him, empty words pelting knotted flesh only a sharpened knife could cut through. but you hadn't taken any of it.
his little hero, coming to his defense. it'd been the first time- in a long time- that his icy cold, tiny heart skipped a beat.
simon's always been his own savior. he saved himself from the shit life he had with his family by joining the army. he'd clawed his way out of his own grave, freshly turned soil stuck under his fingernails for weeks. he'd gone after the head of roba, in the name of vengeance. even now, he's a part of the justice league, the task force 141.
unsung heroes.
and here you were, standing in your parent's kitchen, all bared teeth and scalding temper- over him.
simon's so aroused that when he rises from where he's seated, he sways on his feet. there's no stopping him from briskly walking over to you and hoisting you up and over his shoulder, heading for the door.
there's no stopping him from throwing you into the backseat, and climbing in after.
you weakly try to stop him with stammered words, just wanting to know what the fuck he's doing but when simon starts to impatiently undo the button of your jeans, his confined manhood pushing up underneath you, it clicks.
you don't want him to stop when the calloused pad of his thumb rubs your slippery clit with expertise, thick fingers curling inside your swollen cunt.
you definitely don't want him to stop when his cock slides through your slick folds, his hand wrapped around his thick base. his tip pushes inside, mild discomfort already flaring. gravity then does the work, slowly sinking you onto him until his thighs are flush against your arse. the sweet, decadent burn of him splitting you in half sparking your nerve endings alight, from the waist to your knees.
you beg him not to stop when he fucks you in earnest; desire, sticky and wet, dampening the coarse trimmed hair of his cock. the air inside the truck muggy, heavy and thick with sex. he places his hand under your navel, right when he knows he is, and grunts when he gently presses down. the noises coming from you and your sodden pussy are obscene, lewd, downright vulgar and he wonders if you'd let him record it- to replace the banal music he usually listens to.
your breath hitches beautifully, and simon makes sure to watch how you let go of his shoulder to weave that hand downward to take yourself over the edge.
"impatient little pet, can't even wait f'me to get ya there, eh?" the low chuckle he lets out is cut short at the feeling of your slick walls fluttering around him, making him groan. he keeps his sharp gaze on you when your body tenses, back arching as you jerk fast, little circles over your pearl. he plants his feet and begins to thrust upward, your weight nothing to his strength and-
how beautiful you look in the pleasure he brings you.
it's cliche, truly, that he comes when you do, but he couldn't care less in this instance. your cunt squeezes him like a silken fist, a tight vice that milks his cock almost painfully so. his grip around your waist is bruising, but it only adds to the sensation- the delightful bite of pain prolonging your pleasure.
the base of his spine tingles from his climax, and his breathing is ragged. alive. your hands skim the wide breadth of his chest, as if brushing off the dirt he'd once been buried under.
his little hero.
you took him home, so now he takes you to his.
(...don't look in the kitchen, pet.)
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moondirti · 12 days
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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.
if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.
and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.
so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.
it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?
granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.
jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.
until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.
because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.
by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.
it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.
and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.
johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?
he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.
"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.
"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."
he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.
besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.
but–
"are you a doctor?"
"n-no."
"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."
he just can't help himself.
over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.
his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.
on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.
then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.
"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?
"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."
"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."
and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:
you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"
ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.
"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.
"hm."
"is this how it usually-"
"sometimes."
"oh."
"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.
a few moments later, you speak up again.
"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."
he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.
"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."
you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."
and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.
if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.
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shoyoist · 5 months
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── 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : hinata shoyo.
content: fem!reader. public sεx in the back booth of a cafe. dirty thoughts, teasing, fingering, a little overstimulation, shoyo is a liiittle mean but he's just so eager to have you!! mentioned pussy eating at the end.
— . 。˚ ♡ you just can't wait to have shoyo's fingers in you. and neither can he.
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one of the first things you notice about hinata when you meet up with him after his years away in brazil, is that his hands are big.
he'd already been growing taller and filling out when he left — but that was nearly three years ago, and seeing him for the first time after so long felt like a dream — because despite looking the same, he also looked just that different. it wasn't just his hands, really — he was big. 
his neck was thicker, the expanse between his shoulder and neck offering much more space for your arms than it used to, as you wrapped them around his neck in a hug. his arms, his chest, his stomach, as they press against yours in the embrace, they feel bigger, more muscular than you remembered.
but what you notice the most, what would be a subtle change compared to everything else — is that his hands are so big. maybe because you hadn't seen his hands properly in any of the pictures he'd sent you, but it was the most surprising change about him.
his fingers that just used to be long and lithe, are now thicker — knuckles tough and edges calloused, the backs of them rosy and tanned and the palms hard and smooth, pink at the rounder points.
and as he holds your hands in his, gives you a smile that pours love and longing and happiness and tender adoration into you as he tells you, “hi, baby. i missed you.” — all you can think about is that you want your pussy stuffed with those fingers of his.
and eventually — because he is after all, your beloved shoyo that would do anything for you — you tell him.
hand in hand, walking the distance from your place to the café you used to frequent together, you tell him that his hands are so nice. 
his fingers are so thick (“look! see how big they are compared to mine?”) and then while you're talking to each other over cups of coffee, you finally tell him — albeit slyly and mostly as a tease, you admit that you want his fingers in your cunt.
what you don't expect is for him to immediately oblige.
you're sitting together at the very last booth of the small, cozy little cafe, away from all the windows and concealed from clear view — and you'd thought it'd be cute to fluster him with a dirty little comment, and get him hooked for when you both get home.
but when you tell him, “they'd feel so nice curling deep into my pussy, don't you think?” hinata stares at you for only a few seconds — before he has you pressed against the back of the booth, one legged hooked over his knees and the other dangling over the edge of the seat as he forces your legs open.
“mhm,” he giggles at your wide eyed, stunned expression, wrapping a muscled arm around you and adjusting your position so effortlessly, as his other hand slides past the waistband of your skirt to palm at your clothed cunt. “let's see how it feels, then. oh — pretty pussy's wet already, huh? missed me much?”
you're too dazed by the contact and the delicious feel of his touch on your clit to form words and tell him yes, yes yes you missed him so fucking much, more than he knows — but you think you missed him more than even you know.
his eyes are brighter than you remember as well, you see as you blink up to meet his gaze— 
his body language, his confidence, it's so different compared to how he was before.
you'd only gotten together in your third year of highschool, and really you'd only fucked once before he left for brazil — but you'd loved him long enough to know.
this isn't the same hinata that you kissed good-bye at that train station years ago.
correction: he is the same — but he's also more. 
you stare, stars in your eyes — and he gives you a handsome, rogueish grin as he slips two digits under your panties and into the slick mess of your hole, like he knows every single thing he's doing to you right now.
to your body, to your mind, to your soul.
it's overwhelming enough, to have the love of your life return home to you after more than two years of being so, so far away from you.
overwhelming enough to see that he has changed so very much, to see that suddenly the sunny, sweet boy you'd fallen in love with has become a fire, a hot searing flame that's ready to sweep you off your feet and singe you, burn you with his kisses and his touch.
but right now, you can't even think clearly about it all — because fuck, fuck, fuck, he's sliding his fingers into you, and it feels even better than you thought it would.
“sh—shoyo,” you whimper, cheek pressed to his chest as he shields your body with his, just in case. “wait, wait — didn't mean right now, i—”
“hush,” he hums into your ear, thumb gliding up to find your clit, and when he presses into the sensitive bud, you can only obey and hush — pressing your lips shut tight to prevent the gasp of pleasure that builds in your throat from getting away.
the café had been pretty quiet and peaceful when you'd both walked inside, and even as you ordered from the counter and brought your trays to the back booth — but suddenly, you're so afraid that people might come and see. afraid that a waiter might come over and see.
“sho—” you try, but he shushes you again, and you feel so hot, it's all so sudden you can't think.
“couldn't wait, sunshine, 'm sorry.” he mumbles into your hair, pulling you even closer, and you feel a little cramped as he tugs your legs even further apart, fingers sliding knuckle-deep into you. “was thinking things the whole time, you're so gorgeous now, can't wait when you're so hot.”
“i—” you whimper again, grabbing his shirt and curling it in your fist. “me too, shoyo, me too.” there's an impatience in the both of you that was hardly satiable when kept apart from eachother, but now, with the two of you like this, there's no way to keep it at bay.
the stretch of his fingers in your cunt is impossible. so much compared to your own fingers, so hot and hungry compared to the toys you use (ones he'd bought and sent home to you during his time in brazil).
he fucks his digits into you like he's been dying to do this to you, like he's desperate to hear those pretty sounds you make in his ear again, like he's been thirsting to make you cum like this forever.
you're going to hit your orgasm so quick, you can already feel it.
you're going to cum slumped in the back booth of this little café, that you'd visited so long ago on your first date with hinata. this little café where you'd first kissed him. this little café where you'd had a valentine's day brunch with him, just two months before he left.
“shoyo,” you can't help the moan that slips out, pussy only clenching around harder his digits when you see the way his eyes cloud with lust upon hearing your voice. “shoyo, shoyo — gonna cum.”
you hope nobody hears you — and you hope that if they did, they'll stay the fuck away and mind their own business, and let hinata take care of you.
you need it. he's so warm, so hot, and he's fucking you so good with just his fingers — thumb rolling your clit just fucking right while he curls his fingers into your velvet walls, giggling under his breath when your pussy squelches messily each time. 
“that's right, baby,” he coos, kissing your hair. “cum for me. nice and hard, mkay? else we might hafta try again.”
his voice cracks so well at just the right moment as he says it — and you don't know if it's the zap of need that courses through you at the sound of his voice breaking, or if it's just the bliss he's giving you with his fingers that makes you cum instantly, but you do.
your pussy wraps around his fingers so tight — your own hand flying up to clamp over your mouth and muffle your cry, as your body finally unfreezes and you crash into your high.
knees knocking together and squeezing hinata's arm between your legs, you fall lax against the leather seating of the booth — cushioned by his body because he still has his other arm secured around you — and you cum. “fuck, shoyo.”
“that's good,” hinata encourages, his whisper hot in the shell of your ear. “fuck, so messy. so messy, baby, how do we clean you up?”
you can't help it — and he's making it worse, curling his fingers in, knuckles digging into your walls as he tries to go even deeper, never relieving the pressure he's out on your clit, god— “shoyo, fuck, fuck.” you’re afraid you might shatter into a million pieces right there on the damn seat. you haven’t had someone else touch you in a long time, and getting an orgasm ripped from you like this is almost too much. “sho—shoyo, please.”
“please, what?” he giggles, still unrelenting, like he’s missed having you like this, like he really can’t be a good boy and wait until you get back home before he eats you up and makes you his girl all over again, for the first time in years.
“not here,” you say breathlessly, gulping down the cry of pleasure that springs up your throat when he lets go of your clit for a moment, only to flick his thumb at the ravenous bud again. “not here, please. i can’t—”
“can’t what?” he asks, almost impatient. he bites at your ear, and you feel so fucking hot, so dizzy with pleasure, but you can’t. not in the back booth of a god damn café, where you could just be caught with MSbY’s newest outside hitter fitting his fingers into your starving little cunt.
you grab his wrist and tug, giving him the most serious look you can with all the stars in your eyes. “can’t be like this, shoyo. not here. please? wanna go home. want you in me. at home.”
his lips pull downwards into a disappointed pout, but he only presses his body closer to you, hot and heavy, his weight so new on you. “you promise t’ let me fuck you like this in your bed then?”
the fact that he can make you blush harder with a few words even as he’s got your pussy full of his fingers is astounding, really. but you feel your face heat up as you nod, telling him you promise. you need it more than him. you need him so, so fucking bad.
with a delighted laugh, shoyo pulls away, almost too quickly and you’re forced to stifle the needy whine you want to let out because you know he’ll be on you again in no time if you act like that. he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking on your slick, eyes dulling with lust as he gets a taste of you. “let’s go, then. we can have this date later.”
“wh—what about our food?” you can’t even ask before he’s getting up and pulling you to your feet. he gives you a quick kiss, and your eyes widen when you taste yourself on him. god, it’s almost embarrassing.
“i’ll pay for it now, we’ll tell them we’re coming back in a bit.” he grins at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you up against him. “i can think of something else i’d like to eat right now.”
by the glint in his eyes and the lingering taste in your mouth, you know exactly what he means the instant he says it. and you can’t help but blush again. god, he’s such a fucking charmer. “mm, alright. let’s go then.”
“that’s my girl.”
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quaintii · 10 months
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Across the Street
Pt.3
Pt.1, Pt2.
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synopsis: Miguel calls you in once more for babysitting. He has a day off from work and something inconvenient happens.
content: 18+ MDNI - babysitting, DILF miguel, fingering, m!receiving bj, praise and degrading, dirty talk, spiccyy overall.
A/N: thank you guys for the support!! Love u all 💞
extra: art is on Twitter by kimmy_arts0912
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Miguel woke up to the sound of his phone burring on the bedstand, clicking the stop button.
9:04 a.m.
He slowly rose off the bed, rubbing his temples and heading to the bathroom. He took his time getting himself ready, it was never easy for him since he would regularly work for long hours but today was a day off.
He took a shower, shaving off his stubble beard with a mirror glued on the bathroom wall. He got out with a towel wrapped around his waist and a small one on his wet hair.
Soon as he finished changing, he went downstairs to drink some black coffee and eat some peppered eggs with bacon.
As he scrolled through his work emails on his laptop, he saw Gabriella at the corner of his eye. She stepped off the stairs, approaching Miguel and hugging his legs.
"Como dormiste, mi changa?" (How'd you sleep, my girl?) He let out a hearty laugh, ruffling her messy brown curls. His focus was now on Gabriella, carrying her with one arm while his other hand pinched her swollen cheeks.
"Bien, papi!" She said as she swinged on his arm. Miguel smiled and lifted her back on the floor, reaching for the chair for his daughter. He placed two plates, a small stack of pancakes with strawberries, butter and syrup while the other was a bowl of fruit.
"Make sure to eat all of it, mija. It's bad to let things go to waste." He spoke as he washed the prior dishes from last night, making him vividly relive the memory of his fingers in you. He couldn't shake the thought of you, he kept spacing out on your touch.
He snapped back to reality when he peered his eyes to his phone ringing, his wife. Well almost his ex-wife, the divorce was still in date for court but they went their separate ways months ago.
He wrapped a towel around his hands, drying them and answered the phone. "Hello?"
"I'm picking up Gabriella later today around 6."
Miguel's brows furrowed together. "What do you mean?!? This whole week is my time to spend with her. I have a day off today and tomorrow." He snapped back at her.
"What's the reason for the sudden change?! Im allowed to spend time with my daughter too." He was fired up but whispered into the phone so Gabriella wouldn't hear.
"She just got home a couple days ago, que te pasa en la mente?!" Miguel spoke. She scoffed into the phone. "You're more in love with your work than our own daughter."
"Well I planned a trip for the both of us and I already have everything packed for her. Relax, you'll get her back in a couple days, bye!" As Miguel was about to yell at her, she hung up on the phone.
"Pinche pendeja.." he muttered softly on his lips.
He was furious but had to remain calm to not raise Gabriella's suspicion of why her dad was breathing so heavily and palming his face with his hands.
After a couple minutes pass, he sat next to Gabi watching a cartoon show to ease himself down. He would then urge Gabi to go brush her teeth and change into something else rather than her unicorn pajamas.
Miguel decided to take Gabi to a new toy shop that just opened. He was still pissed about the call earlier but the thought ended up leaving his mind as his focus was now on his daughter's happiness.
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5:04 p.m.
It'd been a day or two since what happened. Miguel hadn't sent you a message to babysit Gabi, until this afternoon.
"Hey, can you come over to babysit Gabriella? That is if you're not busy with anything."
"I'll be on my way in 5 minutes, Mr. O'Hara."
"Perfect..thank you. Again, Miguel is fine."
You felt so queasy about stepping in foot back to his house but so excited. You wore a summer dress due to the heat emitting from the sky. The afternoon would always be the hottest time of the day where you lived.
You face the mirror to fix the messy curls that sprung up due to the frizz. You apply some lip liner, finishing it off with a red tint gloss.
5:12 p.m.
You knock on the door, patiently waiting. You hear a click and the door finally opens, the sun shined on his caramelized skin. He look almost jaw dropping.. with a slicked back hair look. Loose black fit pants with a loose button up shirt. His eyes gave off a smile smile and invited you in.
You looked around to find Gabriella drawing at the table.
"Hi Gabi!" You squeal and wave at her as she rushes into a hug towards you. "Yay! You're back!" She was eager to see you. "What are you drawing? That looks great!" "I'm drawing a forest with fairies and unicorns!" Her high pitched voice rang in your ears.
You lean in closer to look at her drawing, acknowledging it. You give her a sweet smile, she returns it back.
You step back and walk to the cabinets to get a glass of juice. Your body jumped when you felt a hand rubbing in circles on your ass.
Miguel grazed his hands on your shoulder, whispering near your ear and dragging you further to the kitchen. Gabi's back facing the both of you two, you felt his hot breath fan you; shivers down your spine and to your core.
"How have you been, muñeca? Te ves muy...hermosa." He husked in a low tone. Your breathing slowed down, worried to even peep a sound. "I missed you..was worried you wouldn't come back." His rough hands rub the soft skin on your hips.
His tongue teased your neck, sucking and softly nibbling on it. "N-not here Miguel..your daughter.." You whispered, trying hard to restrain your small whimpers. He hummed in your ears, nibbling on it before detaching himself as soon as he heard a doorbell ring.
Luckily the kitchen had the blinds closed so whoever was outside, couldn't see.
He sighed and you quickly headed to open the door, facing a woman. She had on black sunglasses to block the sun in her eyes.
"You must be the new babysitter right?" She questioned as she placed her purse on the island countertop. "Yes! I was recently hired by Mr. O'Hara, Ms.." You waited for a response from her. "Mrs. O'Hara." She spoke, she reached to grab Gabriella by the waist; a suitcase near the table.
You had thought that he was divorced, you thought pretty quickly to it maybe they just haven't had gone to court yet to fix their situation.
"Mom? Where are we going?" Gabriella prods her head at Miguel and you. "We're going to Disneyland!!" She squeals as she hears the exciting news.
Miguel sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing that she never really gave attention to Gabriella, just spoiling and bribing her.
Gabriella was brought down back to her feet, hugging you and her dad by the leg, waving goodbyes.
You helped her out with packing some of her toys upstairs. When you both finished packing up some extra stuff, you head downstairs, slightly peering your head to see Miguel and his wife whisper about stuff. Miguel's chest heaved as his hands ran through his hair, frustrated.
Gabriella prods her head at what you're looking at and you quickly distract her by asking her something.
"Did you grab all of your toys, Gabi?" "I think so," she said as she rubbed her head and headed towards the door.
The lady drank some champagne from the glass, eyeing you up and down, questionable about you. You were never this nervous, but you worried if she had known.
She averted her gaze back to Gabi, holding her hand and the suitcase near Miguel. "Bye papi!" Gabi squeaked as the door behind her closed. Miguel waved non-stop til he couldn't see her anymore.
He laid his elbows on the countertop, tilting his head sideways back and forth. "Everything okay?" You walked up to him.
"Yeah.. um..it's just.." He hesitated to tell you. "Oh, don't worry! It's fine you don't have to tell me, Mr.-.. Miguel." He sighed angrily, "No no, it's just that..this week I was supposed to have Gabriella. She comes unannounced, not even a heads up that she would take Gabi with her."
As he vented more of his frustration, he felt relief by letting it all out. You were open eares with him, softly patting his shoulder blades to ease him.
"Wow..that's really messed up. Do you have custody of Gabriella, if you don't mind me asking." You spoke softly.
"Yeah, I do. We haven't had the court fully decide yet, it's coming up in a couple weeks. I just hate how she's nowhere fit for her to be actually caring for Gabriella." He sighed and took a big sip from the champagne bottle.
You hummed in return, heading to the snack closet for something to ease him up. "Want some snacks?" You asked. Miguel gets up and walks towards you.
You tip-toed to reach a cardboard box full of gummies, until you felt your body shivering to the touch of his hands around your waist later reaching your bra.
He wraps his arms around you, his touch becoming a bit more daring this time.
"You're very tempting. It's difficult to resist you right now..."
Miguel smiles at you and whispers his words. He then places his lips on yours again, his kiss passionate and eager. He wraps you as tight as he can, his hands roaming your hips.
"Oh, I would love something sweet. Don't you?" He murmured on your neck. His hands pushed your dress up, caressing your plush skin. "Mr. O'Hara-.."
You felt a sharp slap to your ass. "What did I say? Llámame Miguel.." (Call me Miguel)
He placed a hand on your chin to face him, kissing you softly. The second kiss seemed more like hunger.
"Get on your knees for me, cariño." He husked in a low tone, you obediently listen and laid your knees on the cold marble floor. He caressed your face once more, "Good girl.." The praises that came out his mouth made your cheeks heat up, your blood pumping to your pooling cunt.
Miguel's face lights up with pleasure, his eyes staring at you seductively as you kneel down in front of him. He watches your movement as you kneel, breathing slightly heavier. The way you look at Miguel also makes him feel good.
"Mm..."
Miguel's hand then reaches down and he grabs your head, making you look up at him.
"Open your mouth..."
Miguel moves his hand down to one of your shoulders, moving his thumb along your collarbone and then along your cleavage.
"Open wider, muñeca..."
Miguel's smile grows more and more as he sees you opening your mouth. You see his hand moving around your lips, just touching your face sensually here and there. Miguel's eyes never leave yours, and you find his stare to be both attractive and also exciting.
"Mm... Good.."
Miguel's eyes move down to your tongue and then back up to your face. He starts to whisper in your ear, his voice going slightly deeper.
"¿Como se siente esa boca, chiquilla?"
Miguel's breath slows, clearly aroused. He stuck in two fingers into your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks softly as you sucked on them for a bit. He went deeper, making you gag continuously, he took his fingers out licking them clean.
Your eyes landed on his bulge, palming it with your hands, rubbing it harder each time, pulling groans out of Miguel.
You begin to remove his pants by unzipping it and pulling down his boxers, his hard cock slapping his abdomen. The red brownish head was practically fuming for your touch.
You part your lips, laying your tongue out and licking the pre-cum streaming down on his tip. You try fitting all of his cock in your throat but you can't so you stroke the rest of him.
His eyes drop down to your face, his eyebrows furrowed together, savouring the delicious feeling of your tongue around his cock. You bobbed your head faster when your throat relaxed, being able to take in more of him. You clench your inner thighs together to feel some relief on your swollen clit.
His breathing becomes shallow the more he becomes impatient. When you looked up at him with small teary eyed..
He loses it.
He needs and wants to feel more of you, he slammed his cock deeper down your throat. The squelching sounds and low groans of his voice made you whine but it was muttered by his cock in your mouth.
You dig your nails into his thighs to keep yourself steady, you feel like you've ran out of oxygen. But you couldn't care less.
"Puta madre..." He whispers.
The feeling of him driving you absolutely mad, his grip on your scalp tightening with every thrust he took. The aggression shocked you, but you couldn't move since he took complete control of your mouth.
His cock pressed harder into your throat, making you gag on and on while tears streamed down your face. Your flushed out face drew him to his final straw.
His hips snapping against your cheeks, the slapping sounds echoing. The feeling of your fingernails digging deep into his skin, your muffled moans clenching harder around his cock whenever you hollowed your cheeks, made him lose his control.
"F-fuck...you're so good...such a pretty little slut aren't you? So fucking good f'me baby..." He scowled.
You kept muffling mhm's as he would praise your touch on him. His hips began stuttering, his thrusts slowly becoming slower as his cock became more and more sensitive with every warm touch of your tongue around him.
He held both sides of your face in a firm but gentle grip, abusing your throat to catch his orgasm. "I'm c-coming..mhmmf..mierda..." He whined.
His massive body shook with his imploding orgasm, he shoved his cock to the back of your throat and shuddered as his cum was hot and sticky on your tongue.
The moment he pulled out, he angled my face to his, towering over my frame. "Swallow it f'me." He spoke bluntly.
Miguel removed your mouth off his cock, his erection still hard and pulsing. All he wanted right now was to be inside you but he had different plans for you. He was going to return the favor back to you now.
You let out a few coughs to catch your breath and swallowed just like he asked. Bittersweet taste left on your tongue.
"Eres tan buena y hermosa, ma." (You're so good and beautiful, ma)
"Llevantate, amor." He panted on your neck.
He grabbed you by the shoulders and lifted you up, resting your quivering ankles on his broad shoulders. His fingers stroking and prodding at the wet stain on your underwear, his cold touch setting you on fire.
"Let me touch your pretty pussy, amor. Déjame ver ese bello coño.." (Let me see that pretty pussy) He tore your underwear off, the cold air washing your cunt makes you shiver. He lightly slapped your folds to see your face contort and furrow.
Suddenly, his hot tongue flicked your wet folds, and heat swirled in your stomach, your clit throbbing. Your skin burned to his touch as he reached for your perked nipples, rubbing it with his hands and whenever he would pinch your nipples, you would jerk forward; making his nose hit your clit.
"M-more Miguel.." You begged, your cunt clenching around nothing left you feeling empty and so needy. Your fingers wrapping around his brown curls, gripping onto them dearly as his tongue lapped on your clit.
"You're doing such a good job f'me, mi amor. Keep moaning my name like that. Fuck.." He groaned into your cunt. He slid into another finger and the feeling was too much for you to handle.
"M-miguel.." Your pants filled with wanton and lust. Your body jerks forward as he slid a finger inside you, your eyes impossibly rolling back to the back of your head as you choked on your moans, mumbling his name as he continued to eat you out like a starved man.
"Mirame, corazon. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?"
You felt too much and too little all at once, it wasn't enough for you but you felt like you were about to get thrown off the edge as his fingers started pounding you deep inside your velvet walls. You kept twitching and trembling, your back arching off the wall as your body hopelessly writhed for him.
Your nerves began stuttering, going numb along with a knot starting to untie. Miguel wouldn't stop sucking on your folds, his nose nudging your clit. His eyes never left your face, he loved seeing how you responded to his touch.
You started feeling a fire pooling low in your abdomen, your heartbeat pulsing faster than before.
You started losing composure whatsoever, when he slid in another finger inside. He didn't stop lapping on your sopping cunt, your pussy clenching around his fingers made his cock ache for your walls to tighten around him.
"It's t-too much.. m-miguel please mhmgf..fuck!" You sobbed and wailed. Your tears wouldn't stop, his fingers plunging in deeper inside your swollen cunt.
"You can handle it, doll.. I know you can." His ears relished the wet squelching sounds and your sweet little moans. You tugged harder into his hair as you felt a wave crashing down, the dam broke which released a leg-shaking orgasm. Fire sprinted throughout your body, the feeling of it taking over your mind with nothing but his fingers and tongue on your cunt.
Your orgasm came in flooding in and electrified every nerve in your body. Your vision fading to black. Your throat welled with moans and mewls, as you kept blubbering incoherently.
Miguel devoured you without mercy, savoring your juices as it ran down his chin. He kept you steady by holding you tight on your hips as you wiggled non-stop, shaking and writhed under him.
You loved drowning in helplessness of the pleasure as it surrounded you by the waist, leaving you breathless, shaky, and light headed.
You became almost feverishly whimpering since Miguel would still suck on your clit, tenderly. He finally removed himself from your folds, smirking at you while caressing your flushed out face. "Te ves bella así, muñeca. Eres mia..que no?" (You look beautiful like that, doll. You're mine, right?) You nodded as your orgasm finally came to a stop. He rested your ankles back to the floor, holding you up by the waist so you wouldn't succumb to the floor.
Just when he was about to tease you with his cock slowly on your folds, you both hear a ding from the door. Keys ring through your ears and the door creaked open. Heels clacking on the hard floor echoing around the spacious house, heading upstairs. The both of you quickly start to dress up quickly, you knew exactly who this was.
"Miguel!! ¿¿Dónde estás?? Do you know where the monster high dolls are?!?" A woman voice yelled upstairs. Miguel gave you a quick peck on the lips and a wink.
"What is it this time?" Miguel's voice responded back to her. "Gabi forgot her stupid toys..anyways just tell me where they are. She won't stop crying and I need her to shut up."
Miguel refused to give into his emotions and snap back at her so he gave off a small response to her.
"They're in the hidden basket under her bed, the lock is in the bedstand drawer." He answered, looking back at you tip toeing to the door.
You sent yourself off by going back home quietly and hurriedly.
Miguel was once again incredibly frustrated for the intrusion.
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A/N: it's 12:31 am rn, gonna have the best sleep ever. I finally finished it! Leave any feedback, always room for improvement, thank you guys!! (Sorry for the ending once more 😭😓, I promise to make part 4 hella dirty and long)
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Taglist: @thedevax @missussmorales @mxtokko @roronoaslover @livytofine @lolaiitip @luvstuffies @sweetirilly @avatricu @minnbinn @rqdior @migueloharasgirlfriend @t-sillay @brittney69 @honeycovered-bandaids @whatdudtheysay @tuskjohnny @spideys2cute @mushy-mushroom04 @yuki9912 @yumeeesss @noyasanify @ewan-tef @ilonasthing @lia-77 @migueloharaluhver @notsussybaka @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @usagijoestar @itzsab @gh0stcatss @ihateuguys @nyoxklo @xstormstriderx @bontensbabygirl @jroshtssn @realalpacorn @toecurlingstories @lunamoonbby @amberpanda99 @minihorizons @kathleenisdaraptor
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Please forgive this fear of mine (it used to keep me safe)
let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here
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pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.9k
genre: fluff, happy ending to the angst
warnings: slytherin reader, here's the happy ending folks, reader is described as very attractive in a lot of different ways by the boys but it's all ofc still gender neutral
a/n: here it is I PROMISED I would give you the happy ending to I don’t know you anymore (maybe I never really did)
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"You made James cry." You flinch at Remus's words, looking up at him from where you're sitting in the astronomy tower. He sits next to you as you look back out at the night sky, the stars blinking in and out.
"I wanted to talk to him to fix things, not make it worse," you say stubbornly. Remus raises a brow at you.
"Did you really think what you said would help?" He asks dryly. You stiffen.
"I'm trying my best."
"We all are." His words sit heavily in the silence between you, Remus looking at you pointedly, patiently, while you stare up through the clouds. As the constellations stare back at you, you find your hands bunching into fists as you miss Sirius sitting next to you, leaning against your side and pointing out stars and their names to you. You feel suddenly nauseous at the realization that you'll never have that again. Oh well.
"I would've thought it'd be Sirius up here right now. I'm sure he wants to chew me out for this," you say. Remus looks at you knowingly. 
"He's upset right now. We thought it would be best for me to come talk to you while he calms down. He loves you too much to knowingly hurt you."
"Don't say that," you snap back. Remus doesn't flinch.
"It's true. He loves you."
"Stop."
"Why is that so difficult for you to hear?" Remus pushes, gentle and soft in all the ways that make you crumble. You grit your teeth as you begin to feel your eyes burning, knowing that if you start crying, it'll make the whole thing so much worse.
"I didn't mean to do this," you say bitterly, a defensiveness in your voice that has Remus straightening. "And it'll be my fault when it wrecks everything - it already is."
"What do you mean by that, dove?" Remus asks patiently. You look at him and he stares back, lost in whatever it is you're trying to communicate.
"You think I'm horrible for leaving," your voice warbles against your will and you dig your nails into your palms. "You think I'm heartless and cruel for stringing you all along and then running away."
"Hey, love, we don't think that -"
"But it's not my fault," you barrel on. Now that you've opened the floodgates, the words burn your throat in your desperation to get them all out. "The only way to make sure the three of you don't fight over me is to leave. If I'd stayed, you would've demanded I choose one of you and no matter who I choose, it would have been wrong and it would've hurt you all and the stupid jealousy you all would've gotten lost in would've wrecked everything." You stare at Remus after your outburst, desperately wiping away the tears that have begun rolling down your cheeks. Remus stares back, shock painting his features.
"I beg your pardon?" Is all he finally says. You huff and begin to turn away, but he stops you with a delicate hand on your cheek, gently forcing you to look at him.
"I love you," he says firmly.
"I'm sorry," you whisper back.
"No, listen to me. I love you -" 
"And I'm sorry," you interrupt. Remus sighs and smoothes his thumb over your cheekbone, but lets you continue. He's never seen you hysterical like this and there's an anxiousness eating at him at your distraught state, but he can't think of anything to do other than just walk you through it. "I told you, I didn't mean to do this."
"You didn't… mean to make us fall in love with you?" Remus hesitates.
"Yes," you huff back like it's obvious. And then, much quieter, "I didn't mean to ruin everything. I swear, I didn't mean to." Something in Remus's heart clenches painfully at the sad, small, warble in your voice and he draws in a deep breath.
"Ok, sweet thing. Can I just… speak for a minute? Just listen, ok?" You wince like you're being chastised and Remus rushes to speak before another apology can tumble out of your mouth. "It's alright, you're alright. Just… I love you, ok? Hey, no, look at me. I love you. And so does James. And so does Sirius. They love you as much as they love one another and as much as they love me. And I love you as much as I love them."
"…I don't think I know what you're saying," you respond slowly, blinking rapidly. Remus smiles sheepishly and something in you softens as you let your head rest a bit where he's got your face held securely in his palms.
"It was never a competition, dove. There's no jealousy. We're… sharers. You share me with the others, right? And you share them with me? We all… share you the same way." Remus strokes your cheeks with his thumbs gently, waiting and watching as you put together what he's said.
"Oh," you say abruptly. "Oh. I hadn't - I didn't… oh." Remus lets himself laugh a bit, pulling you closer with an arm around your shoulders and smiling when you slouch against his chest, although he assumes it's mostly out of shock. You pull back after a moment, though, narrowing your eyes at him. He blinks.
"You're all awful communicators, you know," you say haughtily. He kisses you on the forehead.
"Sorry, doll."
"Whatever. I tortured us all for nothing."
"Yes, well, you do have a flair for dramatics. I think it's what Sirius loves about you." Remus pokes your side gently. You squirm a little but sit up straighter at the mention of Sirius.
"Tell them I'm sorry, will you?" You ask gently. Remus frowns.
"You'll tell them yourself… won't you?"
"Yes," you huff out a laugh. "I'm not running away again. But you'll see them before I do."
"Alright, love," Remus plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth, so soft you barely feel it. "I'll let them know."
You wonder, sort of desperately, if Remus kept his word. The way Sirius is staring at you makes you shift, rolling the tension out of your neck before you slump further down into the couch you're sitting on, looking back at him. Sirius is sitting opposite you rather pointedly, choosing the couch farthest from you as the two of you sit in the Gryffindor common room. James and Remus are supposed to be here by now, but your constant glances toward the doorway don't materialize them in front of you.
"I thought you weren't angry at us anymore," Sirius's voice snaps you back to the present. It's soft, the way he speaks to you - kind, your brain supplies weakly.
"I was never angry at you," you sit a bit straighter. Sirius shrugs, but his eyes stay trained on you.
"Avoidant, then. You're looking at me like you're waiting for me to tear you a new one."
"Well," you blink. "Are you going to?" Sirius frowns at your words, shaking his head and letting loose strands of hair fall over his eyes.
"I'm not here to have a row with you, doll," he says gently. Your shoulders drop.
"Well… you could," you point out. "I don't expect all to be forgiven just because I bat my eyes at Remus and let him kiss me a bit." Sirius leans forward at your words, propping his elbows on his knees and looking at you intently. You shift in your seat and glance at the door again.
"You seem to be under the impression that your beauty is some horrible weapon you use against us. It's really not - you're just pretty."
"Just pretty?" You say indignantly. Sirius laughs.
"Drop-dead gorgeous, of course. I didn't mean it like that - you know I think you're fit. All I'm saying is that you haven't ensnared us in any way that we're unhappy about." Sirius grins at you, canines exposed, and you roll your eyes. "I'm happy to be caught in your trap, baby."
"Oh, aren't we all," James says as he flounces into the room, Remus coming in right behind him. James settles next to you on the couch and pulls you into a crushing hug, murmuring something about how you had him so worried and he's so desperately relieved to have you back here with them all.
"What are you doing all the way over there, love?" Remus questions Sirius as he settles down next to James, fondly watching the way you smooth his curls out of your way as James buries his face in your neck.
"Didn't want to crowd them," Sirius says dryly. "Not that we all got that message." James pops his head up, blinding you with one of his million-watt smiles. 
"Am I crowding you, love?" He asks. 
"I'm alright," you respond easily, sending a smile in Sirius's direction. He stands at that, making his way over to you.
"Alright, shove off, Jamie - learn to share," is all Sirius says before he's pushing through James to get to you, Remus pulling James by the waist to sit curled up against him instead. James takes it in stride, settling with his back against the armrest and letting Remus flop against his chest. Sirius, on the other hand, is wrestling you into doing the same. He grins at James once he's got you planted on his lap, leaning against him. You only have the energy to pretend to be a little annoyed.
"Anyway," Remus begins, and all three of you soften at the lulled, sleepy quality that's taken over his voice as he melts against James's chest - you all know it's a lethal position to be in. "What was it that we heard about you not being pretty enough, dove?" You huff and James pouts sympathetically.
"I'm too pretty, I guess. That's the problem." Sirius laughs at your words, smoothing a hand over your hair when the abrupt movement of it jostles your head against his chest.
"I'll keep telling you, love - we're willing participants in this. You're not conning us into anything," he insists. You mumble out a whatever and sink further into his embrace. James nudges your leg with his foot and Remus catches you by the ankle when you go to kick back, rubbing soothing circles into the skin there.
"Our sweet baby," James coos. "You're a precious little thing, aren't you?"
"Shut up," you quip back, your voice muffled against Sirius's chest. He rubs a firm hand up and down your back and drops gentle kisses onto the crown of your head.
"I admire your confidence, lovely," Remus murmurs, his hand smoothing up and down your calf. "But I promise you haven't bewitched us against our will."
"Nah," Sirius whispers against your hair. "You've only bewitched us because we begged. So really, we're the ones who caught you." You smack Sirius's chest at his words and he grins, holding you tighter against him. "Go to sleep, doll. I promise we'll still be right here when you wake up."
"Because we'll still be under your spell," James supplies. You sigh wearily.
"Please shut up," you beg. They take no notice.
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freyito · 5 months
Note
can you write something on how the Lin Keui trio would react to their s/o who can't handle the cold as well as them?
tis the season or something guys! but it's been snowing for two days and guyys oh my GOD i love the snow so much. i love christmas season so much, actually. im like emo or something but i dont care i love christmas season !!! its funny cause i dont celebrate christmas LMFAO. I ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING PLANNED OUT SO JUST YOU WAIT!!! also given the release of the new season i think i am riiiiiight on time, readers.
cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread
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ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴ ᴋᴜᴇɪ ᴛʀɪᴏ
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Bi-Han...
takes note of your shivering right away. He scoffs a little, then wraps an arm around you. It'd be cute! IF IT HELPED.
He's fucking FREEZING. It takes him a moment to remember that he's naturally cold.
After that, he apologizes quickly, and wastes no time getting you a jacket. And some blankets. A lot of blankets, actually. He gets you some scalding hot tea, too. Let it cool down a bit. Please.
Bi-Han's only a little bit prickly about the fact that you're a bit more susceptible to the cold. Considering he's a CRYOmancer, the cold is like a lifestyle for him. But he forgives you.
Aside from a little panting though, he actually cuddles up to you. If you two are in private and he knows no one will interrupt you two. He finds it hard to swallow his pride. But he won't let you freeze.
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Kuai Liang...
is already glued to your side. So it's pretty hard to be cold around him. He's like a walking space heater. And it can only get better.
He'll pull you in close, reaaaal close, and just keep you there. Cling to him, he begs. Seriously. There's no need for jackets or blankets with him. Maybe some tea.
He'll even gradually increase the temperature around you two, like a testament to his love. He actually gets kinda defensive if you still need gloves or something.
Speaking of gloves, Kuai Liang LOVES holding your hands in his hands. Not just like holding hands, but cupping his hands around yours.
Anywhere, he's holding you close to keep you warm. Show you off a little, while he's at it. He especially loves it when your clinging to his arm.
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Tomas Vrbada...
actually worries himself sick over you. So when he catches you shivering, even if it's just for a second, he's already all over you.
He's got a surprisingly warm body temperature! Unfortunately he cannot heat up anymore, so he's got like a whole checklist on what to get you. Especially on particularly cold days.
Blankets first. He actually kinda forces you inside. But for good reason. He's got like 17 different blankets picked out for you. He's also got some hot cocoa for you, as well.
And if you don't want to stay inside? He has you put on some gloves. Shoves two more pairs in your coat's pocket as well. Like he makes sure you have more than enough layers.
But Tomas does it all out of love! He's kind of a worrywart over you, he can't help but be protective over... literally everything!
Rest assured, you won't be cold around him. Like he really doesn't want you to be. Any little slip, a soft chatter of your teeth, and he's freaking out!!!
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© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
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withleeknow · 4 months
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remedy.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; implies that minho has anxiety, unedited bc i am me and you shouldn't expect much from me lmao word count: 1.2k note: hello hello!! i've been meaning to write this since the day of the rock-star comeback but i'm only getting around to finishing it now lol. but the timing's pretty neat so consider this a christmas present from me and mine to you and yours!! <33
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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when the sun rouses you awake in the morning, you feel two arms loosely wrapped around you that weren't there before you fell asleep last night.
you smile to yourself, enjoying the warmth and comfort that he brings you. home, finally.
you turn in his hold, as gently as you can to not disturb your slumbering minho.
you don’t know when exactly he got back, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours ago. sometimes, when he has night schedules, he doesn’t usually return until the sun is peeking over the horizon. you’re used to him having to work throughout the wee hours of the night every other week. you don’t like it, but you’re used to it.
you expect to find him snoozing peacefully beside you, with his handsome face and his lips parted cutely as he lightly snores, but when you finally shuffle around to look at him, you instantly frown.
a frown that matches his own.
baby, you think, what’s wrong?
even in his sleep, minho’s brows are knitted together, the corners of his mouth tugged downward like he’s having a bad dream. the instant concern that rushes through you parts the hazy fog in your brain, and then... you remember.
it was only half past three in the morning when your phone buzzed to life, the vibrations resounding brassily against the wooden surface of your nightstand. reaching out blindly for the device, you only needed to peek through one eye to scan the time and the caller id before you held it to your ear, your face still smushed against your fluffy pillow.
"hmm?"
"i'm sorry," minho was quick to apologize. "did i wake you?" he sounded rushed, like he had wandered off to a corner to steal a few minutes for himself before having to go back.
you made a noncommittal noise, already feeling the exhaustion luring you back to dreamland. it had been a long week and you'd endured five whole days just to get to the weekend, to be able to spend hours on end with your boyfriend. it'd be just you and him, wrapped up together in your cozy little bubble, all your stresses and troubles kept at bay. he was always the best part of your days, your weeks, your months, even your years.
even though you were drifting, you still managed to ask, "is everything okay?"
"yeah, everything’s fine. i just missed you."
it made you smile nonetheless. he didn’t often disturb you in the middle of the night just to be sappy with you whenever he was stuck working odd hours, but it wasn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary. minho could still be needy and clingy sometimes. it was one of the things that you loved most about him - that he could be a grumpy cat most of the time, but underneath that prickly exterior, he was just a big softie. you loved it even more that you were the only person who could bring out that side of him.
"missed you too," you mumbled. it didn’t sound at all lively, but you knew he could tell that you meant it.
you caught a sigh from his end before he continued. though this time, he let his defenses down when he spoke. his voice came out along with a tired exhale, laced with something that you would’ve been able to pick up on had your mind not been delirious with sleep. "wanna be there with you," he said in earnest. "want you to be here with me."
"when are you coming home?" you asked, even though the words came out a little garbled, your voice heavy with sleep.
"in a couple hours. i'll be home right after this."
"okay. we can-" cue a big yawn. "we can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning."
"yeah, that sounds nice."
"then i’ll see you in a bit, okay?"
he paused briefly before his next words came out a little unsteady, hesitant. the unease with which he spoke bypassed your unassuming radar completely. "can we just stay on the phone?"
"min-"
"you don't have to talk to me. just... stay with me for a while."
you think you might've passed out again after that, the subsequent silence and his breathing on the other end having lulled you back to sleep in a matter of seconds.
my love, it brings tears to your eyes just thinking about it, how could i have missed it?
you quietly move closer to him, shuffling inch by inch until you’re chest to chest, hoping his body could sense your warmth and be comforted by it, even just a little bit. you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, but even that simple touch stirs him awake even though minho is usually a deep sleeper.
his eyes slowly open, and you suppose the tug on your heartstrings loosens when the furrow between his brows eases as he takes in the sight of you.
he heaves a sigh of relief, and it’s like you can actually see some of the tension leaving his body as he pulls you to him, holding you against him so tightly that it’s impossible to move even if you wanted to.
"hi," you say, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling further into him until it’s hard to tell if the heartbeat you feel is yours or his.
"hi," he replies, his soft lips placing a greeting kiss on the top of your head.
"bad day?" night, but oh well. technicalities. 
his answer comes muffled against your hair, though you feel the slight vibration of his chest when he mutters, "it wasn’t that bad. i was just a little overwhelmed."
"but it's better now?"
"much better, now that you’re here."
truthfully, you don’t really know what to say in moments like this. you want to be able to offer him reassuring words that could ease his nerves and calm his raging sea, but you’re not good with words. you never have been. you don’t think you ever will be, as much as you want to. for him.
it makes you feel guilty at times, not being able to give minho the peace he needs.
you do try though, to comfort him as much as you can.
"i love you," you say quietly. your arm wraps around him, your palm landing on his upper back where your fingers tenderly soothe the firm muscles you find. i'm sorry i wasn't there for you. i wish i have the right words to say to you.
"i could listen to you breathe and feel ten times better," he admits, putting some distance between your faces so he can look at you, as if it'll help emphasize his words. "i don’t even need you to do anything. i just need you. you’re more than enough for me."
his eyes bore into yours, glittering with nothing but a kind of sincerity that he never shows anyone but you. you kiss him then, soft and slow. you want to pour as much love into him as you possibly can. and even then you don't think it can amount to a fraction of what he deserves.
but nonetheless, you try. you try because he means the world to you.
i'll do better for you. let me share your burdens with you.
pulling away, you tell him, as your palm gently holds his cheek, a touch which he leans into instantaneously. "go back to sleep. i’ve got you."
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.12.2023]
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elixrr · 5 months
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My love was mine, all mine.
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You were supposed to be his.
He could've sworn that he just had you.
So, why?
Why weren't you his?
Your lips. Your lips pressed against another's.
Your arms. Your arms wrapped somebody else.
You— beautiful, glorious you— entwined and sparkling with somebody who wasn't him.
The sky above did not depict those dark, mournful sceneries that books and shows would often have. No. The clouds dispersed; the sun shone as if everything he felt was fake; the crowds around clapped and cheered for your kiss—for your newfound love.
It's almost as if none of his feelings mattered in the first place. You belonged to someone else now, and what was there to do about it? His eyes won't tear away from your smile, the same one that he adored so much. The way your eyes crinkled with love, the way your nose scrunched with pure happiness. It'd make him want to smile, too, and with all the same feelings.
But not this time.
Your smile was someone else's now.
Your smile belonged to someone else now.
It wasn't his. Never belonged to him.
Would it have ever been for him?
None of the material items that he possessed would've made him as joyous as you would. You, even as his friend, already gave him so much to smile for, so much to look forward to. Your heart was the biggest reason for his heartbeat.
So, why? Why couldn't he at least have you?
Did he possess too many items?
If so, then consider them freed from him. None of it will belong to him anymore if it means that you could just turn your gaze towards him. If you'd just let go of that person and run up to him instead, embrace him, kiss him like you did with the other, then his losses will only sum to the biggest gain.
Yet, you turn your head elsewhere. Your back faces his front as you cheer. You're the happiest version of you that he's ever seen. He's jealous, not of your happiness, but of the fact that he could've been standing there next to you, arm wrapped around your waist to hold you dearly, and he could be just as happy as you.
Your love could've been his. In his head, it should've been—
But it's not.
And then you— with your hand in someone else's— walk away from him. Your feet glide farther and farther away from him as the crowd follows in celebration.
Everyone left him behind.
You left him behind.
He wants to scream, run up, and cry— to beg you with his confession to be his— but he knows he can't. All he can do is extend his hand out to yours, that which remains empty, yet it disappears from view.
And eventually the crowd closes in, and you are nowhere to be soon.
Was this really the gift of love? Heartbreak?
His hopes; his dreams; his chances, were they all really for naught? All of that effort he put into trying to be yours, and all he gets is loneliness?
Maybe it wasn't enough.
Was it already planned by fate above that you were destined for another? That his love for you, a love that runs deep within his veins and flows straight to and through the beat of his heart, was already unrequited from the start?
He collapses. No one's there to see him fall onto his knee, hand grasping his head as the internal storm within begins to rain and rage. His tears finally form, and they pour like a faucet. The pain in him began to ring throughout his body, and he felt his heart fully sink.
In his mind, he had just lost everything,
And all of that loss reduced to no gain,
And all of that loss summed up to nothing.
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signedkoko · 5 months
Note
Hello! May I request a romantic scenario with Husk and a gn!reader? The reader is a worker at the hotel and does like Husk, but knows Angel feels the same, so they try to push their feelings aside because Angel is their friend. They confess their feelings for Husk in a letter, intending to keep it hidden, except they accidentally give him the letter instead of the envelope full of money that they owe him for the drinks.
Thank you for taking the time to read this and happy holidays! :)
Husk X Reader [Romantic]
In which you accidentally confess your feelings to your crush, Husk.
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One of the ways you heard people could vent their feelings to others was by writing it all in a letter and giving it to them
In practice, one of the hardest parts about telling others your more personal thoughts was doing it face to face, so penning it down and slipping it under the door made that easier
You figured you could do something like that, except rather than hand it over, you'd keep it to yourself
So after confessing your deepest emotions about how you'd fallen for him, you signed the letter off to Husk and tucked it deep into your journal, where it'd likely never see the light of day
While keeping things so childish to yourself rather than confessing may seem silly, you knew it'd hurt your friend who had told you many times of their feelings for Husk
Angel Dust trusted you, and who were you to take someone he had finally come to love away from him?
Though, whenever Angel spoke to you about the future they imagined with Husk, you always found yourself silent, like your mood was suddenly crushed by stacks of lead
With another night wrapped up at the bar to celebrate some recent successes and milestones in the hotel, you'd forgotten to pay your tab and tucked into your room to rest
Not that it was uncommon, Husk knew where to find you if he needed it
Nevertheless, you knew your usual and kept note by placing what you usually owed into an envelope with his name on it, and slipped it into your bag without much thought
Later in the day, when you found yourself heading out the door for an appointment, you quickly swooped to the counter with the payment in mind
" So sorry about last night, I have everything I owe right in here somewhere- "
" Ah whatever, it's already been handled. On the house. "
Husk was shuffling a deck of cards in his hands as he spoke, seeming to avoid eye contact
Nevertheless, you insisted on paying him, and slammed the envelope you'd felt around for on the bar
" Oops! I accidentally left my dues on the bar! I gotta go! "
Rushing out the door, you never turned back despite his protests
It was only later, when you were finishing up at your appointment and picking up a quick refreshment to bring back that you pulled out your wallet, which had the very envelope you made this morning stuck between it
Oh no.
Hurriedly ploughing through your bag, you were terrified to see your journal was empty of any letter
Oh god, no.
The rush back to the hotel was like no other
When you finally shot the doors open, the bar was empty, nothing but a closed sign hanging from one of the bottle racks
Your next stop was Husk's room, which you took a moment to compose yourself before knocking
" There's no lock on the door. Just come in. "
Relaxing on the bed was no other than the winged demon, drinking from a bottle with his eyes closed
On the nightstand, your letter was wide open, pages sprawled on top of the envelope
" Husk? "
When he heard your voice, he shot straight up, wiping his mouth and hiding the bottle behind his wings
" Shit, hey. I didn't expect you to be here so soon. "
The silence was drawn out
" Listen, I really gotta give it to ya, your handwriting is really nice- "
" Just forget any of it okay? It's a stupid joke. "
" I don't think jokes have tear stains embedded in the paper. "
Begrudgingly, you shut the door behind you, exhaling a deep sigh with hands pushing into your forehead
" Oh calm down. Is the idea of datin' me really that bad? So what! We go on a few dates, I tell you I love you back, yada yada. "
He was extremely nonchalant about the topic as he continued on about your new relationship with him
" Wait. You…Want to date me? "
You pointed at yourself, to which he chuckled and rolled his eyes
" I dont give free drinks to people I don't like. "
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Author's Note - This was kind of long I am so sorry I got too into it!! I may as well have written a oneshot but also I am lazy so here this is 🖤 Thank you for requesting!
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Note
HIII! HOPE YOU'RE DOING GREAT!!! I would like to know if you can do one where Reader dies to protect them (jujutsu boys) like there's a special grade curse and Reader know that just one can go left alive so she pushes them away to save them (I have this idea while I listened to Tinkerbell Strange Sight, I don't know it's just hits perfectly whit the jujutsu boys *sigh*)
Hey lovely, I listened to the song, and I see the vision. And even if it's pain, I shall deliver. It'll be done drabble style for each so I can fit it all here w/o it being too long!♡
Content: Reader death, sad jjk boys, mourning, depression (mentioned), violence, gore (slight), mentions of blood, it's angsty, so be warned and read at your own pace. Not proofread. Gojo. Getou. Nanami. Choso. Toji.
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Gojo
Shock. Everyone knows he's the strongest. Which is why this hurts so bad. Everyone knows, you knew and still you shoved him out of the way. Taking the brute force of the hit that eventually led to your death. He could barely process it. Why hadn't his eyes seen this? They shook behind his blindfold, even his hands shook too as he looked down at your mutilated body. Blood pouring from many places, he should try to stop it. But in his heart, his soul, he already knew you were gone. It hurt. It felt like his heart was ripped out, smashed, and placed back inside his chest cavity. I wouldn't be surprised if he went overboard when killing the curse after he finally got his bearings.
Getou
Immediate anger. Full on, eyes squinted with his brows furrowed as he clenched his fists. He was angry. With the curse, with society, and even you. How dare you sacrifice yourself like that? He knew he preached for a world where Sorcerers sacrificed themselves for one another. But you were different, as much as he tried not to let you be. He could've taken that curse in seconds, absorbed it. But the stabbing pain of your death to his heart had him obliterating the curse instead. There was nothing left for him to absorb.
Nanami
Pissed off. We saw that episode, he would be extremely pissed off. But unlike Getou, his anger wasn't aimed at you. No no, it could never be. His love. His everything. As your bloody lay on the ground by his feet, he yanked off his tie. Wrapping it around his hand, he didn't care if he died trying to avenge you. He knew this was a special grade. And he understood what your intentions were. Even if he so desperately wished he could've taken your place. Maybe, in his pursuit of revenge, he'd meet you again.
Chosou
Crying/Anger. I think at first anger would boil in his veins. We saw how pissed off he was about his brothers. It'd be the same with you. And like Nanami, he wouldn't blame you or point his anger towards you. Even if he didn't understand why you sacrificed yourself like that, he still would never be angry. Though he hated this decision. It took you away from him. Once the curse was dealt with, his anger slowly subsiding. He'd clutch your dead body in his arms, attempting to somehow move the blood back inside your body. Attempting to fix what had already been broken beyond repair. And it's then, he'd cry. Holding you close to his chest as he weeped over your body.
Toji
Disassociating. I personally believe his mind would go blank. Not in a shocked sort of way, but simply he would go elsewhere. While he ultimately took care of the curse, subconsciously making sure it was erased away from your body, his mind would be long gone. Slicing over and over through the curse, blood splattering on his skin. His brain would be lost in some of his favorite memories with you. And thats where he'd stay for at least a week. Forcing himself to push it down, forget it. I see that as how he chooses to deal with his pain. Though he rarely admitted it due to his personality, he cared a lot about you. And I think he holds some regrets not telling you that more.
A/N: Just a disclaimer that this is how I think they'd handle/react. If you think they'd feel differently, that's okay! You can even tell me about it if you'd like, just be nice about it♡
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meownotgood · 6 months
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thinking about aki who's a bit of a pervert.
you find yourself over at aki's place to drink an awful lot these days. he's been inviting you, and it's not like you have any reason to say no. work has been stressful, you could use the break. it's more fun to drink with him anyways, with just him. aki is kind and thoughtful, he's reserved and he isn't like all the other guys in your department that turn into idiots the moment they've had a drop of alcohol.
no, aki is sweet. gentlemanly, you'd say. innocent, even. he told you one time that he's never had a girlfriend before.
aki's your best friend, the kind of guy someone might bring home to their parents — the only guy you have absolutely no problem getting shitfaced around because you know he'd stop at nothing to take care of you.
and once you've had a bit too much to drink (because you always seem to) aki will do as he always does: insist you stay the night instead of trying to go home. it'd be dangerous for you to try and travel when you're this inebriated. he's looking out for you, that's all.
although, tonight, one thing is different from before. usually, he'd give you his guest room to have all to yourself. but now that denji and power have moved in, aki supposes there's no other option than to have you sleep with him.
he's not going to allow you to sleep on the living room floor, that's just rude. you're a guest. his closest friend. it's getting cold these days, you'd be freezing if you had to do that. besides, you trust aki more than anyone, so you have no problem sleeping in his bed next to him, do you?
of course not.
aki's just being polite, like he always is, and you're none the wiser. he's polite when he offers to toss your clothes in the laundry and give you his to sleep in. he wants you to be comfortable, that's certainly true, but it definitely isn't also because he was hoping for a chance to touch your stockings and your bra. he commits the feeling of the fabric to memory, the way your stockings stretch when he pulls at them — they stretch the same way around your thighs, too. he drags his fingers across the intricate lace of your bra — lace? he didn't think you were the type to like something like that, but it makes sense. it'd look better if it was on you.
he compares the size of his hand to the size of your bra and tries not to forget that either before tossing everything in the wash. maybe he'll get lucky, and you'll forget to grab your clothes before rushing home.
he scoops you up and carries you to bed when you're too exhausted and drunk to move. he's trying not to think anything dirty as he sets you down in the center of his bed and props himself up over you; he's breathing hard, starting to sweat, the sight of you under him is the prettiest thing he's ever seen, but his breath gets caught in his lungs when you wrap your arms around him and pull his body close to yours with a drunken giggle. aki leans his head into your shoulder, and he doesn't attempt to separate the two of you.
yeah, and it's really only out of politeness that aki's offered to have you sleep in his bed. it's not because he grows warm to the ends of his ears at just the thought of someone, of you sleeping beside him. nobody's ever slept with him like this before. he can hear your breathing, he can feel it on his neck. he shifts away from you a little and he can see the bare skin of your collarbones peeking out when his shirt that's way too big for you starts slipping down your figure. god.
he won't sleep tonight, he's already sure of it. but how could he? between this and the way you were acting earlier, how is he supposed to get any sleep?
you're such a sweetheart when you're drunk, more than you are usually, you'll sway left and right and end up clinging onto aki's arm to keep yourself steady. you'll coo his name so sweetly into his ear, you'll thank him for inviting you and mumble something about how much you appreciate him, how good of a friend he is.
you're welcome, aki tells you with a completely level tone, despite the fact his heart is fucking hammering in his chest so hard it hurts because you've really just thanked him, you're happy because of him, you really are. he wants to make you even happier, he wants you to sing his praises more. he wants to hear your soft voice pant his name over and over again.
he's terrible, really. maybe it's because of his lack of intimacy. maybe the frustration of always being alone. maybe it's his fault to begin with for falling so head over heels for you. aki has no idea.
he can't help but feel guilty every time he invites you over, knowing it's because he wants to be close to you and have you all to himself. he hates how he can never seem to stop ogling you, hates how he can't even get a moment of sleep right now because you're hugging him, you're fast asleep with your arms around him and he can't think, he's so hard his poor cock is throbbing.
aki shifts off of you, tearing your arms away from him and curling up at your side. he mutters a quiet I'm sorry when you grumble with displeasure in your sleep, he tugs the blanket around you and lifts your head to tuck his pillow underneath.
turning over, he forces his eyes to close. aki ignores the ache in his gut, he resists the urge to slip his hand down his pants while you're lying right beside him. he breathes in shuddery gasps, says a silent prayer to himself that you'll stay for at least a few more hours tomorrow.
it'll be fine. he'll forget about all of this until next time. when you're gone.
because if you've slept with him, even after you've left, his sheets and his blankets will smell like you. the clothes you wore, too. then, when he's lying in bed at night, all alone, with the shirt you were wearing pressed up to his nose, and maybe the stockings you wore the day before in his fist and around his dick (if you managed to forget them), it'll be so much easier to imagine whatever the hell he wants about you. and you'll have no idea.
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usedtobecooler · 2 years
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hey, squealer | virgin!eddie x fem!reader
part one // part two // part three // part four
Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), oral m receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), fingers in mouth, blowjobs, dirty talk (a lie, reader is just mean and likes to make fun of him), taking of virginity, mocking, fluff, mentions of horror movie scenes, mention of death.
Word Count | 3k
A/N | i'm back again and none of you can stop me!!!! virgin!eddie has me in a fucking chokehold and i couldn't rest until i wrote and published this. i've linked all parts to this series at the beginning so we have on place for everything. enjoy!!
It'd been a few days since your bathroom encounter and things were so much better this time. You were back to goofing off at work, speaking about anything and everything and you even had taken an interest in Eddie's D&D campaign that he'd been buzzing on about.
It was cute watching him be so passionate about the things he enjoyed doing, the way he'd excitedly tell you about how Erica had defeated his campaign again all whilst mocking Lucas for being useless, how Will had joined Hellfire since returning from California and fit in perfectly, how Gareth finally had a girlfriend.
It was so endearing to watch him like this, you were pretty sure if he paid close enough attention to you he'd see the hearts in your pupils.
"You wanna come to my house tonight?" You'd asked him after your Saturday shift, twirling your hair in your finger as you leaned on the cash counter, watching him bounce around slotting vinyls into their correct places.
Eddie's movements halted abruptly, looking at you and narrowing his eyes, "Your house? To do what?"
"Watch a movie?" You ask hopefully, a glint in your eyes, "Do you like scary movies?"
"I love scary movies, sweetheart," Eddie places both of his hands over his heart, fluttering exaggeratedly at your words, "what movie were you thinking?"
"I rented Halloween from Family Video," You smile all giddy as you watch Eddie's movements, so endeared by how goofy he was, "the first one, of course. No other compares."
"You're right about that," Eddie smirks, "give me your address and I'll be there, seven okay?"
"Perfect."
-----------------------------------------------------------
Seven came around pretty quickly and now you were getting a little nervous. Your parents were out for the night at some fancy event for your dads company that was out of town, so they were in a hotel for the night and you were home all alone.
You hadn't asked Eddie if he wanted to stay over, but you sort of hoped you could reel him into staying with your sweet words. Especially after watching a horror movie like Halloween, what an awful idea that was.
The doorbell rings and you very nearly shoot out of your skin, making to the door and opening it to find Eddie standing there looking all dopey and tired.
"Thank God this is the right house, I got nervous I was somehow on the wrong street," Eddie sighs, stepping into the house without an invite and toeing off his Reeboks as you shut and lock the door behind him.
"Nope, you're right where you need to be," You say, lips popping on the 'p', "the VCR is in my room, my parents hate movies so I get it all to myself, you okay to come up to my room to watch the film?"
Okay, so maybe that's a bit of a white lie and maybe you had spent the last half hour dragging the VCR upstairs and fiddling around with all the cables to make sure it was set up in your room, but Eddie would be none the wiser.
Eddie looks at you with wide eyes, nervousness apparent in the way he balks at you, "Uh, are you sure?"
"Course, we'll be comfier on my bed anyway," You smirk, grabbing hold of his hand and tugging him upstairs with you. Your bedroom door is already open, to reveal your pretty made up bed with a baby blue comforter effortlessly tucked in and a million pillows.
Your room is small, like the rest of the house really, so your TV is pretty close to the end of your bed, only a dresser and bedside table as other furniture.
"Make yourself at home," You shoo Eddie away to sit on the bed, watching as he removes his denim jacket just leaving him in his shirt and loose sweatpants, "don't think I've ever seen you in anything other than jeans."
"Oh, uh, I wanted to be comfortable," Eddie says, voice nervous and slightly sheepish as he gets cosy on your bed, "Jesus, how many pillows do you need, sweetheart."
"I like to feel like I'm on a cloud." You giggle, sliding onto the bed and automatically resting your head on Eddie's lap. You choose to ignore the sharp intake of breath he takes when you get comfortable, your big oversized shirt riding up to reveal a little expanse of your panties.
The TV was already on, video tape in and ready to go, so once you're sure you're both comfortable you press play and the movie starts, soon enough little Michael is walking through his home in Haddonfield to murder his sister in the front bedroom.
You lay in silence as you watch, in no mood for teasing as you lose your focus on Eddie and become engulfed in the movie playing out in front of you.
Eventually, it gets to the part where Lynda and Bob sneak into Annie's home to get it on, and you're trying to ignore the way Eddie is squirming under your head, when all of the sudden-
You shoot up from your place in Eddie's lap, "Are you seriously getting a hard on over Lynda's tits? She's about to die a horrible death, you freak." You're mocking him but your mouth is watering a little as you watch his cock strain in his sweatpants.
"They're nice tits," Eddie shoots back, voice weak and strained as Michael strangles Lynda with the telephone cord, "not as nice as yours though."
You lay a hand over your chest, acting all bashful, "I'm flattered, but you haven't even seen my tits outside of my top."
"Show me then." Eddie says, raising his brows as if to challenge you. What he doesn't expect is for you to actually pull your baggy shirt off over your head and expose your bare breasts to him, nipples hardening from the cool air right away.
"There," You say all triumphant and pleased with yourself, "I don't wear a bra at home, so jokes on you, pretty boy."
He's all flustered, wide puppy dog eyes drinking in the look of your tits, hand coming out hesitantly until you nod, letting him cup one in his palm, thumb rubbing over the hard nub of your nipple. A sweet sigh escapes your lips and you shudder from the contact.
"Can I help you with that at all?" You ask sweetly but still mocking, nodding towards his straining cock in his pants, "Looks like you don't wear underwear in the house either."
Eddie barks out a nervous laugh, "You caught me, princess." Your heart flutters over the nickname, core quivering as he stares at you intently, "I suppose, uh, I suppose you can if you wan'. Don't feel like you have to."
"I don't, I want to," You confirm, changing position so you're sat on your knees between his spread legs, "can I blow you?"
He chokes on his tongue, face going beet red, "Are you sure? Shit, you don't have to-"
You cut him off by digging your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, forcing him to lift his hips up so you can pull them to his ankles. His cock springs up all proudly, flushed red at the tip and already leaking a little.
"You're such a virgin," You sigh, just a little teasing coming out behind the admiring way you say it, all happy with yourself that it's only you who's ever done this for him.
"And you're such a slut." Eddie quips back, though there's no heat behind the words. You look up at him, furrowed brows and a dumb look on your face, all quiet for a second to make him squirm.
"I didn't mean that." He says eventually and you laugh at him, leaning down and gripping the base of his cock, spitting on the head to get it nice and wet.
"No, you're right," You admit, hand jerking him up and down and you don't miss the way he starts whining right away, "just a slut for your massive fucking cock."
A broken moan escapes Eddie's lips as you sink down on his cock, hot mouth gliding over the flushed skin and tongue licking over his head, hand twisting over what you can't fit in your mouth - which is a fair amount, and you're disappointed in your own skills now.
You force yourself to take a bit more of him in your mouth and your throat closes up, gagging a little as the head hits the back of your throat and Eddie shoves his hips up and cums with an embarrassingly loud shout.
You choke and splutter on his cum but still swallow it down, a little dribbling out the sides of your mouth as you pull off of him, "Could've warned a gal, Jesus Eddie."
He's embarrassed and you feel bad at the way he clenches his eyes shut and cringes like he's about to cry, "I am so, so sorry," he stumbles over his words, voice raising an octave, "I didn't expect you to, well, try to deep throat me and it caught me off guard."
You're smiling all pretty at him now, "Don't say sorry, I'm not mad," you say it sincerely, no mocking as you shrug, "that was kinda hot. Gives me a bit of an ego."
You slide off of the bed and retrieve a muslin cloth from your dresser, plopping back onto the bed with a huff as you clean him up, wandering hands ghosting all over his limp cock and his balls for him.
You pretend not to notice the hiss of breath he takes in and the way his eyes wander down to where your hands are taking care of him.
Eddie's back is pressed firm against your plush headboard and he's all flushed red, clearly still orgasm drunk from his first blowjob -- if you could even call it that.
"Do you trust me?" You ask gently, making to hover over his lap but not quite settling, still on your knees to keep distance.
"Of course I do, sweetheart," Eddie's eyes have a little twinkle in them, a dopey smile spreading across his face as he gently reaches his hands out to settle on your waist. You melt into it, body going a little lax and keening into his touch.
"You can absolutely say no, but," Your fingers dance over the front of his Hellfire shirt, the first time you'd seen him in it since you were both in high school, and it's making you feel a little juvenile, "I was thinking it was maybe time for you to pop your cherry."
You inwardly cringe at your words, you were hoping to be a little softer with him and a bit more serious but you can't help the teasing, it's like your brain is hotwired to automatically make fun of him.
"You're, wha-," Eddie's stuttering over his words, at a bit of a loss, "I didn't bring a condom."
The barking laugh that escapes your lips sounds mean, and you know that, but he's just so precious, "Honey, Eddie, baby..." you coo at him, "I'm on birth control. I'm totally clean too, trust me, surely you'd want to feel everything the way it's meant to feel for the very first time, right? So I'm sure the condom doesn't matter, unless it's what you want."
You can feel Eddie's cock pulsing between you both, clearly perking up at the thought of getting buried in your tight cunt for the first time. His face isn't so easy to read, though, you can tell his brain is running at a million miles a minute trying to soak in everything that's going on.
"You can say no," You say helpfully, a little bashful smile tugging at your lips, "I don't want to pressure you."
"You're not," Eddie says it in a rush, sitting up a little, "you're not rushing me. I just - I'm worried it's gonna be shit for you and over as fast as that was." He's clearly referring to the blowjob you just attempted to give him, face screwing up as he cringes.
"Hey, second orgasm usually doesn't come so fast," You shrug, like it's no big deal because it isn't, "you'll get better with practice, last longer, find what you like and don't like. It's normal, handsome."
"God," Eddie clenches his eyes shut momentarily, like your words are throwing him through a loop, "what'd I ever do to deserve a gal like you being so understanding."
"You were yourself," It's honest, that's what captivated you from the get go, just the way Eddie was in himself was enough to pull you in, "and now I get to mold you into my perfect little sex god."
You sink down a little now, your still panty-clad pussy dragging hotly against Eddie's cock, now fully erect again and slapping at his stomach. His eyes shoot open, biting at his bottom lip to stifle a groan.
And maybe this would be over quicker than you thought. But you were okay with that, the night was young and round two and three were always an option.
"I'll move these to the side," You say, voice quiet as you motion toward your panties with your left hand, "and then I'll do all the work, 'kay? You just tell me what you like and what you don't, and when you're close."
Eddie's mesmerized by your cunt, watching as you loop your fingers into the black material and tug them to the side, exposing yourself to the cool air, "Do you not-," he struggles, "do you not want me to... get you off first?"
"Trust me, honey, I really don't need it," You smirk, grabbing his hard cock by the base and hovering over it, slipping the head between your slick folds. You watch his eyebrows furrow, his mouth fall open as his head falls back and hits your headboard, clearly overcome with pleasure.
Eddie's silent, all words caught in his mouth as you let the tip of his cock breach your hole, sinking down little by little, gasping at the stretch of it because Jesus he's massive, until you're fully sat and nestled.
"Tell me when you're ready for me to move, Eds," You whisper, a whimper dying in your throat as your hand comes up to tug at the collar of his shirt pulling on it until he's looking at you, just to make sure he's listening and still okay.
He's really big, not that you didn't know that when you got your hands and mouth on it, but it feels bigger nestled inside the tight heat of your cunt, like you can almost feel him in your stomach.
Eddie nods eventually once his breathing evens out and you don't waste any time in getting started. To begin with you take it slow, only lifting yourself up just enough for a few inches to come out before sliding back down again, gauging how he reacts. His mouth falls open in a broken moan, eyebrows furrowing as he gets used to the feeling of your wet cunt gripping him so well.
He risks a glance down to watch your bodies meeting, the way his cock slides in and out of you and maybe it was a mistake because you're feeling his cock twitching already, whilst he watches your creamy release pool around his thick expanse of dark pubes, matting it down.
"You're - fuckfuck - making a mess," Eddie's voice is so whimpery and subby it makes you shudder in a breath, a whine coming from your throat as you swipe two fingers through the mess, picking some up and forcing your fingers into his mouth until he's sucking them clean.
"Shut up," You moan, finally bouncing up and down properly now, never taking your eyes off of his own, big and wet and perfect, your cunt gripping him so deliciously, sweet spot being abused with every stroke, "rub my clit."
Eddie lets your fingers slip from his mouth, thumb coming down to rub messily at your clit, absolutely no fucking rhythm to it whatsoever but at this point it didn't matter because you could feel your stomach tightening already.
"You're so wet," Eddie sighs, all mesmerized and struggling to rip his eyes away from his thumb on your cunt, until he catches your tits bouncing up and down and he leans forward to latch onto your nipple, licking and sucking it tentatively.
"You're gonna make me cum," You whine, crying out as you continue bouncing, trying to ignore how Eddie's own hips are fucking up to meet your thrusts and how it's driving you crazy, "Jesus Christ."
"Nah, just me," Eddie moans, and it would've been funny if he didn't sound so fucked out, "m'gonna cum, shit, fuck."
The sounds are so fucking hot it's driving you wild, the loud slapping of your skin connecting in this delicious smack, your sopping wet cunt sucking him in, the panting and whining escaping Eddie's lips and you are gone, clenching around his fat cock as you cum, shoving yourself down so he's all the way in to the hilt.
Your pussy clenching like a vice around Eddie's cock is enough to have him shooting off, grip on your waist so tight it almost hurts as he cums, buried deep in you. His orgasm face is so pretty you watch the whole thing without blinking, the way his curls fan his face wetly from sweat, his glossy eyes pricking with tears, his swollen red lips parting in a constant string of moans.
There's silence for a moment and as usual you ruin it by letting the intrusive thoughts win, "There's no way any other woman is allowed to have this fat cock. It's mine now."
Eddie barks out a little laugh, looking up at you with this big dumb smile, rosy cheeks flushing even darker, "Yours if you want it, sweetheart."
You lean down with hands on either side of his face to pull him in for a kiss, giggling and smiling against his lips whilst his softening cock slips out of you.
(i was gonna do a taglist but for some reason the tags wouldn't work send help - i hope everyone who wanted to find this does!!)
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vhstown · 7 months
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love our a.m.
— hobie brown x gn!reader
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summary: Hobie hates mornings, but the ones with you aren't so bad.
warnings: hobie pov, fluff, alarm clock murder 😱 /j semi-edited
word count: 0.8k
a/n: wrote at midnight in like 2 seconds 🙏 p shabby but it's ok a little ooc hurt nobody thank you qiuwey for title idea ly
BRRIIIIII— Smash!
It didn't even get past the first ring. That was the third alarm clock Hobie had broken so far. If was almost a skill by now; he didn't even have to open his eyes. In fact, it was too bright to open his eyes. Everything was too much in the morning. Too bright, too loud, too cold. Why was it so bloody cold?
You. Or the lack of you, for that matter. The lack of you — and the back of you facing him. He stopped himself from moving you when he noticing the gentle rise and fall of your breath — that faint exhale he could listen to forever. Well, maybe not forever, given the way his arm was now cautiously hovering over your sleeping form.
Hobie inched just a little forward, peering over, his face tensed. You were asleep, alright. He couldn't tell if the expression on your face was a smile or a frown. For a moment, Hobie debated getting up and rotating his entire bed to stop you facing the wall, but his strength was only used for destroying appliances this early in the morning, it seemed.
With a sigh that had much more frustration than he'd like, the punk fell back against his pillow. He wasn't being needy, or anything, was he? Sure, he hadn't seen you in a while, and he hadn't held you in a while, but he could wait until you woke up at the very least — right? Hobie tried checking the clock, but it had already suffered fate of his fist. Truthfully, he hadn't slept a wink. Hobie thought about you often enough, sure, but you were all that had filled his mind last night — and arms. He surpressed another grumble. Not needy, of course — maybe a little cold.
You looked so warm — and comfortable. It'd be a crime to wake you up (not that he was much more lawful around you, but he didn't want to anyway.) The fact that his short-lived scrap with the alarm clock didn't alert you was a mystery. The wretched thing was from you, Hobie recalled: brand new from that little junk shop near the docks, now as good as a drumkit without sticks. There was probably a spring he'd dislocated somewhere on the floor for him to step on later. Another reason to hate mornings.
His pillow was starting to feel uncomfy. And the mattress. And all of his clothes. It was freezing now, as well. The blanket was too far, and was also probably too itchy, of course.
He relented, but not entirely. It was far more uncomfortable for him to try and keep his weight off of you, arm moving over your side and bent an awkward angle. If he wasn't so needy, this would be enough. No, this was enough, obviously... Hobie wished he had a second alarm clock to punch right now.
A sudden twitch of movement from you — and Hobie nearly punched himself. He held his breath, the muscles in his arm straining as you moved under him. He debated letting go (though he wasn't holding on much in the first place), before you were still. Hobie let out a quiet exhale.
It was a second later that your fingers curled around his. Then you squeezed his hand. Hobie's eyes flew open; his breath was trapped in his chest again.
"Hey..." He wasn't sure if he was just whispering to himself. "...You awake?"
Another squeeze to his fingers. Hobie sucked in his stomach. The expression on your face looked more like a grin. He had been, what one may call...
"You little—" Fooled.
Hobie couldn't finish his sentence before you turned to bury yourself in his chest, arms slotting between his to wrap him in a hug.
"Little what?" Your voice vibrated against his chest, still somewhat sleepy but awake enough to prove your guilt; you'd been awake all this time. All he could do was pull you more against him, closing his eyes in defeat. "Thought so."
Hobie sighed, soaking in your warmth as his body curled around you. He was like a bug to a radiator; the strange accuracy of that thought made him frown. He wasn't as small as a bug, but he could be as small as he wanted around you. Maybe one morning you'd hold him, but was more than enough, for now. He opened his eyes again when you shifted, yours narrowed by a faint smile.
"Morning," you whispered. The word didn't sound so bad coming out of your mouth.
Hobie leaned down to kiss your lips, if only for a moment, before pulling you back into his chest.
"G'mornin'..." he mumbled, yawning and closing his eyes again.
It was warm, comfortable. The sunlight had mellowed and the only sound was of your breathing, soft and even. Hobie hated mornings, but this one wasn't all that bad — not with you in it.
He decided he'd apologise about the alarm clock later.
🕸️🔭🎸
oho thank you for reading ^^ im trying to write more often but i have exams like... every week now so 💔 tis life but i hope u enjoyed
reblogs & feedback appreciated as always <3 find the rest of my atsv stuff here!
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pray4saint · 10 months
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Daughter!reader meeting Sirius in Azkaban for the first time ever. Bonus points if Remus tags along because as her godfather he’s protective.
seeing dad!sirius in azkaban for the first time
masterlist & descrip. pg-13. 13+. angst. comfort. semi-implied wolfstar. caretaker!remus. uncle/dad figure!remus.
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”you know we don't have to go sunshine, he'll be alright.” you twiddled your thumbs, taking a deep breath as remus tried for the fourth time in twenty minutes to reassure you.
it'd been almost a year since you'd seen your father and you'd been in remus' care, and despite how unsure you were that remus had forgiven him for what happened, he'd insisted that anytime you wanted to see your dad you could.
”i want to see him.” remus raised a brow at you. ”i need to see him, please rem.” it was more than you wanted to say but the entire time sirius black had been locked up you had never mentioned missing your father. of course remus knew better, anyone who had a dad like sirius would miss him, which is why it was so hard to believe what he'd done.
remus turned away from you, hand on your shoulder, nodding to the gaurd. the gaurd opened the door and you walked through, remus trailing closely behind you.
the room you entered was dark, a couple of gaurds around, a few dimly lit candles here and there, the strong stench of people rotting, and standing up at a table about fifteen feet from you, sirius black. he looked like he had lost some weight, that much was obvious. as you got closer though, you could see the bags under his eyes, the new wrinkles that had appeared around his eyes and forehead, now his smile was weak and he looked unwell.
from across the table, despite how horrible weak he looked, his eyes still glimmered when he looked at you, full of love. ”hi sunshine.” even his voice was different, more hoarse, drier. ”hi dad.” you both sat down and remus pulled up a chair close to you. ”hi remus.” your father gave the man beside you a crooked grin however he wasn't met with a verbal response, only a nod and low grunt of recognition.
in a matter of minutes, talking about how school was going, watching your father listen with such intent and interest, it took everything in you not to cry. he genuinely looked so happy to see you and a little part of you wished you'd come to see him sooner, but then again it felt like a huge favour to ask of remus.
”is anything else going on?” sirius smiled at you, his hand nervously playing with the rest of his fingers. ”no, not really. but i do miss you dad.” you slowly reached your hand out, palm up, looking around at the gaurds. sirius' hand was shaky as it reached for yours. once his hand was in yours, you squeezed, and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes when he squeezed back. ”i miss you more sunshine.” his smile looks more genuine, bigger, as if he's finally been set free.
remus taps your shoulder. ”y/n we've gotta get goin' pumpkin.” he whispers the words, and you turn to him. he can see how the tears threaten to leave your eyes, your cheeks already pink. you don't even get a chance to respond before he speaks again. ”i can give you a few more minutes, but really, we've got to get home. marls is bringing soup for dinner, remember?” you nod and he smiles at you.
”five minutes.” one of the gaurds behind you gives the warning and all of a sudden you're aware of the time. you wipe at your eyes, ”fuck, dad i need more time.” he kisses your hand, ”i know princess.”
”can i have a hug dad?” the words, almost breathless, cause your father's eyes to brighten and all of a sudden he's up and walking around the table to you, kneeling down so he can wrap his arms around you. with your head in his neck, you finally let the tears fall, as does he. ”i love you so much sunshine.” you only sob harder against his hair and he squeezes you closer to his chest. ”you've gotta go now.” he pulls away, wiping away at your tears while you wipe at his.
hesitantly, you let go, trying to pull your remaining tears back into your eyes. ”i love you dad.” he nods at you with a smile, the same weak smile he had at the start of the visit. you turn around in your seat and nod to remus.
on your way out of the room, remus stopped you and turned back to your father. ”you know,” sirius' head snaps up to remus and you give him a confused look. ”it was good to see you pads.”
”you too moons.” you smile, although the origin of the nicknames is just as lost on you as it always has been.
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pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.
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