#how disgustingly common it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoshigray · 2 months

Note

Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)

“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”

“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”

You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong…

Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.

With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.

That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko.

Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.

In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.

Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!

How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.

Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.

And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”

“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”

Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??

But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.

The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.

However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.

“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”

Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life.

Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men.

This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.

So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”

His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.

However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.

“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”

You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing!

“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,” he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”

You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste.

But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“

“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”

With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”

He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”

And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better.

“Aww, you two are so cute together~”

You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.

Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.

The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”

“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”

The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”

Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”

“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”

The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.

The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?”

“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”

“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”

Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”

“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe? You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder.

Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“

“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”

And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”

Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”

It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get.

It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating!

When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight.

Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you!

Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence.

“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?”

The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.

You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him.

“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”

The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”

“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”

With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss.

And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again.

“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”

Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris.

“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!”

“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.”

“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”

“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.

Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”

You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”

Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips.

“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”

You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again.

“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”

Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…”

“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“

“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him.

“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“

Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm.

After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”

“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”

“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”

Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.

Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower.

The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“

“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”

“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”

“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”

Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”

“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”

“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”

“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”

“Oh, eat horse shit.”

“Croak and die.”

You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.

…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?

Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk imagines #anime smut

12K notes · View notes

sunnami · 4 months

Text

❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”

You blink.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say.

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”

“I know.” Harry grins.

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”

“Oi!”

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!”

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”

Harry’s eye twitches.

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.

“In your dreams!” You shrill.

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”

Harry nods. “Is it time already?”

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”

“One date, then.”

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.

“And I want to—”

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.

He falls in love.)

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.”

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader

4K notes · View notes

dolldefiler · 2 months

Text

[Requested in an ask, forgive the lack of formatting]

C/W: Manipulative, possessive

There you are, you stupid, disobedient bitch. How did I find you? I have a fucking tracker in your necklace, you brainless pair of tits. The real question is what the fuck are you doing here? How dare you go behind my back, coming to this place of filth and hedonism, this night club of all places? You even left your phone behind to throw me off?

I don’t give two shits that you’re hanging out with your girlfriends. Can’t you see there are guys here? Are you trying to finally cheat on me? Is that it? Is that why you’re wearing this disgustingly low skirt? Come here. Shut the FUCK UP and COME. HERE.

No, I’m not fingering your cunt, you dumb cunt. I’m checking to see if you’re wet. You are. I can’t believe it. Did looking at those other guys really get you that wet? Fuck, I should leave you right here, drive back, and throw your shit to the curb. No, stop fucking pleading. Look at these fucking fishnets and tight, slutty tank top. I told you that you’re only allowed to wear this inside the house. Now you just look like some common whore.

Get on my fucking cock. Now. I’m going to go through your phone in front of you, and if I see a single fucking guy on it, I’ll dump you right here. If not, I’ll pump my cum in you and drive home. Now let’s see.

Girl, girl, girl. Who the fuck is Sam? Your co-worker? That’s not what I fucking meant. A girl? Good.

Girl. Girl. Me. Girl.

Nothing suspicious here, I suppose. But I’m still disappointed in you. God, if this cunt weren’t nearly as tight, I’d have ditched you immediately. If you didn’t have this insane rack, I’d have left years ago.

God, shit, ughhh, wow. Are you fucking milking my cock harder to apologise? Keep at it. I might even forgive you if you make me cum hard enough. That’s a good fucking whore. Keep going. I can’t believe you’d fucking ditch me to come here. Am I not enough? Is that it? ANSWER ME. Do you just hate me? Be honest.

You don’t? Then why the fuck are you— FUCK, ughh-- why the fuck are you trying to be such a disappointment then? Running away like this? Do I not give you enough freedom when I let you choose your aprons? When I let you choose what’s for dinner? That’s right, cunt. I own you. I. OWN. YOU. Don’t you dare think of running away ever again or I’ll be extremely angry.

Aaah, god, now hold still. I’m going to fucking cum in you. I’m going to pour so much fucking spunk in you that you’ll never even think of another man again, you cheating whore. FUCK, I’M POPPING!

God, get your pathetic ass back to the car. We’re leaving this place. Which slut convinced you to leave me? I want her deleted and blocked. Don’t ever talk to her again. Is that clear?

#manipulation kink #cnc free use #public kink #obsessive love #r@pe fantasy #degradation k1nk #rough kink #rough cnc #cnc k!nk #humiliation kink

911 notes · View notes

malum-forev · 6 months

Text

In My Head

Bucky was past the point of anger. Sam could tell by the way Bucky stared at him with tense eyebrows. He had been for the past sixteen hours.

“What the hell is wrong with you now?” Sam massaged his temples. They had barely escaped death days prior, he didn’t have the time or energy to deal with whatever Bucky’s problem was.

But the Sergeant kept quiet.

Sam huffed, leaning his head back on the wall of the plane.

Just three more hours and we’re back home. Sam thought.

Bucky grinded his teeth, keeping his eyes set on the floor. He felt his blood like fire, rushing through his whole body. His thoughts were racing, a thousand miles per hour. His muscles felt weak but he couldn’t fall asleep, not after what happened.

A flashback to the moment where everything almost ended came back but Bucky shook his head, trying to erase the memory. But nothing would let him forget what he saw in those last seconds.

Then the all-consuming rage came back again.

Bucky had been going through this vicious cycle for the past 72 hours.

His body tried to betray him when the plane landed, Bucky’s sore body begged for mercy. Even one hour of rest would help but he was on a mission.

Bucky stalked off the ramp directly into the compound’s common area.

“Buck!” Steve rose from the couch, happy to see his best friend alive and back.

But instead of greeting his friend, Bucky kept walking. “Where is she.”

“She? Who?”

“She’s got you too, huh.” Bucky scoffed. “Un-fucking-believable.”

The elevator ride up to the bedrooms was too long for him. He needed to unleash the rage he’d been filtering for days, and there was only one person responsible for everything.

You thought you were getting a relaxed Sunday. No one needed help, the world was at peace, and you were going to watch disgustingly cheesy movies all day.

Key word- thought.

Suddenly your door was being almost smashed by a couple of knocks.

“I know you’re in there.” Bucky’s voice boomed.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible. He would go away eventually, right?

“Open the damn door!” He yelled. “I can hear your breathing pattern.”

Your “relationship”, if you could even call it that, with Bucky is strained to say the least.

He’s a veteran who should be retired, you’re a newer hire. He likes things to be done a specific way, you always try new things. He wants to lead, you want to lead.

“I’m not on the clock right now so technically, you’re not my boss.” You yelled back, throwing a popcorn kernel in the air and catching it in your mouth.

“Open this fucking door you witch!”

“Sorceress.” You corrected him. If he was going to try and use your powers to insult, he should do it the correct way.

You heard a growl then a pop. As you sit up in bed, the door handle from your side of the room falls to the floor and the door flies open.

“Guess the door was open after all.” Bucky gives you a fake smile.

“Why are you here.” You turn away from him, partly to act disinterested and partly to stop looking at him. He wasn’t your favorite person in the world but you’re only human! You hadn’t seen him in days and the ruffled ways of his hair and unkempt beard made your breath hitch.

“You know why I’m here.” He gripped the metal pole on your bed’s footboard, you turn only your head towards him blinking a couple of times at the sight of his rolled-up Henley exposing his forearms. When the fuck did you start being attracted to forearms, when did that even become a thing! You followed the popped-up veins traveling from his knuckles to his elbows where they disappeared completely.

“I don’t have time for your mysterious ways, Barnes.” You turn back to your movie. “Either tell my why you’re pissed or get out.”

With two steps he’s standing next to you again. His stern blue eyes pierced through you, forcing your head up.

“How did you do it.” Bucky says through gritted teeth.

Your eyebrows furrow.

“This is the last time I’ll ask politely.” You could see the anger in his eyes. “How the fuck did you do it!”

You stand up. He was still ways taller than you but no one was going to come into your room and speak to you like that.

“I have no clue as to what you’re talking about.” You crossed your arms. “So, this is the last time I’ll ask you properly. Get out.”

Bucky let out a humorless laugh. “Is this a joke to you? This job? Be careful how you talk to me because I can make everything go away in a second.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Your breathing quickens as your anger rises. “You have no right being here when I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong?!” Bucky yells coming closer to you. “You almost cost me my life that’s what you did! Now you say nothing’s wrong?”

“Your life? How the hell am I responsible for a mistake you made thousands of miles away!” You stand inches away from his face, rage hovering over both of you like a cloud.

“You got in here!” Bucky points to his head “I know you did some spell just for me to mess up!”

“I didn’t do anything! I wouldn’t try and get you killed!” You yell.

“Then how the fuck did I see you when I was going down!” He yells back and your room suddenly goes quiet, only the sounds of your heavy breathing could be heard.

“Y- you saw me when you were dying?” You whisper, looking up at his crystal blue eyes.

Bucky sucked in a breath, his eyes going from yours to your lips.

“You were in my head, I know you did it on purpose.” Bucky’s eyes stopped at your lips.

“I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Your mind must have been playing tricks on you because you were almost certain Bucky was coming closer to you.

But suddenly, the heat radiating off his body was ripped away from you. He jumped towards the door and out the hallway.

“I need to leave.” He said, coughing into his hand. Red splotches adorning his cheeks. “I’m sorry about your door handle, I’ll have someone come by and fix it.”

All you could do was nod.

“I-my-I’m.” Bucky stuttered.

“Have a nice rest of your Sunday, Sarge.” You said and he nodded his head, hurrying down to his bedroom.

You fell back onto your bed. This has got to be the weirdest Sunday ever.

774 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 4 months

Text

Appearances (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession, mention of arranged engagements ]

[ description: All Aemond cares about is the recognition and attention of his younger sister, but she seems to ignore him and shun him, driving him to an ever-increasing state of withdrawal and dark, grim agony. Something inside him snaps when his grandsire announces that it is time to marry her off. Sexual tension, understatements due to lack of communication, obsession. ]

This oneshot has its sequels: Experience and Refinement, but can be read as a stand-alone story.

My other works: Masterlist

_____

It seemed to him, though because of this his throat squeezed in pain and rage, that his little sister was simply afraid of him. He couldn't explain her behaviour otherwise – the way she quickly looked away, meekly lowering her eyelids adorned with her long, dark lashes, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture as she met his gaze.

She was the only one who didn't have their pearly white hair, the only one who didn't have the eye colour due to the gods.

Even when she witnessed his duels with Criston Cole, when she could see how much he had changed, how skilful he was in wielding his sword, defeating him again and again, she did not congratulate him – she turned and left the square, no longer bestowing even a single glance on him.

Confronted again with her wordless rejection, he thought in the back of his head that she was disgustingly ordinary with her dark hair and eyes inherited from their mother, that she could be the daughter of some commoner walking up to his knees in the mud feeding his pigs.

However, his great annoyance usually lasted only a moment, after which he went back to his state of despair.

He didn't follow her, wanting to spare himself this humiliation and discomfort, feeling his heart twitching in rage, in shame that he so desperately desired her attention, a few words of recognition, one warm look.

He saw her one morning through the window speaking to her servant, gesturing vigorously and laughing pearly, joyful; he thought with regret that she was consorting with people who might take advantage of her, who cared only about her position.

That if she were his he would protect her from them.

She would be safe.

She was so careless, innocent, wise and naïve at the same time, looking at him with those big dark eyes of hers when someone in her presence annoyed him, begging him with her gaze not to explode.

His tongue was like a blade, cutting anyone who approached him – she knew this and was afraid to open her mouth in front of him, imagining for sure how cruel his reaction would be.

He didn't know how to explain to her that he would never hurt her, his sweetest little sister, his greatest joy.

He watched from the distance like a cool, sinister shadow as her fingers intertwined with Helaena's, stretched out side by side on their armrests during supper, observed her leaning towards her with a sweet smile, whispering something tenderly, from which their older sister giggled quietly – there was something mythological in these scenes, making a shiver run down his spine.

He knew that they sometimes met in her chamber and even slept together, confiding in each other about their feminine affairs that were beyond his comprehension, however, he couldn't stop the feeling of burning jealousy that filled his chest when he thought of how he wished it was him she visited at night.

He thought then of how tender he would be towards her, how his arms would enclose her warm, delicate body in his tight, firm embrace, protecting her from anything that might frighten her.

He imagined how wonderful she would smell, her oils teasing his nostrils constantly, sweet and intense – looking at her figure seated next to him he felt the need to bite into her flesh like a ripe fruit.

He thought she would taste like a peach.

When at last they had finished their conversation and her beautiful, soft hand reached for her cup her gaze finally met his – her plump, glistening lips parted slightly, as if the intensity of his gaze frightened her, her breasts quivered in quick, shuddering breaths.

He felt what he saw in his breeches, his length all swollen, demanding her closeness.

Wanting to keep her attention on him he lifted the platter with her favourite dish, sweet cinnamon pie filled inside with apples; he saw that she blinked quickly, her cheeks flushed at the realisation that he knew she favoured them.

He watched her swallow with difficulty, her trembling hand set her goblet aside – his manhood throbbed hard when their fingers brushed in the air as she took the silver platter from him. She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, her sweet, plump lips parted to whisper a quiet, barely audible thank you.

He leaned back again, looking at the pleasing profile of her face, her long eyelashes gleaming under the warm candlelight, a drop of sweat on her skin shimmering like a small diamond ran down her neck.

Gods, how he craved her.

He wanted to touch her, stroke her shamelessly exposed back with his large hand, rough from holding the hilt of his sword, and dig his fingertips into her warm, smooth skin, with a subconscious gesture proving to whom she belonged, that she had been his right, his delight and his duty since she was born.

Why didn't she realize this?

He watched with a squeezed throat as she took a piece of pie into her mouth, the involuntary lick of her tongue with which she brushed her lower lip focused all his attention.

The thought that this fleshy lips could in the same way clench around his painfully swollen cock, suck it and squeeze it, barely able to fit it in with her sweet cry of effort.

He grunted, looking away, feeling his length twitching and pushing against the tight material of his breeches.

She didn't look at him again that evening, absorbed in a discussion with their mother and grandfather as he drank Dornish wine, staring dully ahead, its tart aftertaste melting on his tongue.

"I spoke to your mother about the importance of slowly deciding on a suitable candidate for your husband, my love." Began their grandsire with his eyebrow raised in satisfaction, directing his words to his younger sister, who froze in mid-motion – he saw that her hands, in an involuntary reflex of terror, clamped down on the material of her gown.

She remained silent.

"She's still too young, for god's sake." He hissed out feeling rage like a burning fire pulsing through his veins. He grew hot and took another quick, deep sip from his cup, an uncomfortable silence fell around him.

Otto grunted, turning with a creak of wood in his seat, his fingers stretched out and clenched into a fist on the table top in front of him, apparently wondering why such a sudden and aggressive reaction on his part.

"I understand that as an older brother you feel responsible for her safety, however, she is now of the right age and has begun to bleed, and that's why…"

"Father." Muttered their mother, looking at him pleadingly, clearly not wanting him to bring up such intimate and sensitive topics at the table, moreover in the presence of other men.

He saw out of the corner of his eye how his sister dropped her gaze, her dark eyes shining from the tears of shame that had gathered under her lids, her brows arched in pain.

If she had only asked him to marry her he would have done so at once, freed her from this laughable obligation that her marriage to some mere lord would be.

He felt his jaw clench at the thought that no one would ever love her as devotedly, dearly, warmly as he, her blood, her protector, her brother.

"In the coming months, we would like you to meet a few candidates we consider worthy of your hand." Concluded their grandfather, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet; he felt rage filling his chest when he saw that his sister merely nodded her head, accepting her fate without a word of protest, looking down at her plate.

He got up from the table, bitter and furious, leaving the hall without a word, unable to look at her, once again letting his anger take over him, accusing her in his mind.

Her lack of reaction, her lack of opposition, when it was so obvious that her husband could only be him, him, him.

He walked into his chamber, undoing the buckles of his tunic, throwing it angrily to the ground, remaining in only his chemise and breeches. Although he did not usually do so, he reached for the wine jug and poured himself a full cup, grabbing it and sitting down with it in the chair by the fire, tilting his head back, letting out loud sigh.

He shuddered when he heard a quiet, tentative knock on his door – he ran his hand over his face, guessing it was his Queen, as usual wanting to be his voice of reason, to come to him with her stoic calm, explaining to him why he had to accept the responsibilities that faced their family, including those standing before his sister.

He didn't feel like having this discussion, however, he acknowledged with reluctance that he couldn't dismiss his own mother.

"Come in." He said coolly, staring into the flames.

He heard the creak of the door opening and closing a moment later – he glanced involuntarily over his shoulder and froze, feeling his heart stop in his throat at the sight of her, beautiful, teary-eyed, her face all flushed red with pain, her fleshy, plump lips parted in a hastened breath, her brow arched in pain.

"Lēkia (big brother)." She mumbled out with difficulty, choking on her own tears – he stood up at her words looking at her with eye wide open in shock, driven by some sudden emotion, moved that she had come to him as he had always imagined she would, vulnerable and desperate, seeking refuge and a reassurance in his arms.

"Come closer, hāedar (little sister). Come." He whispered softly, extending his hand to her in a gesture of encouragement; she moved tentatively towards him, looking up at him with her wonderfully dark, large eyes, tear drops glittering on her lashes like little stars.

He parted his lips and swallowed loudly when her smooth, warm hand touched his, thought with tenderness that compared to his she was so small, so fragile.

When he dared to lift his other hand to her cheek she twitched, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly, distrustful like a maiden who was afraid of a stranger's touch, simultaneously craving his closeness and fearing it.

He breathed quietly as she let his fingers touch and run over the wonderfully soft, firm skin of her pink cheek, her eyelids closed for a moment, a quiet, sweet sigh leaving her lips.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked in a calm, low, trembling voice, ashamed of how scared he was of her answer, of her rejection.

She looked at him surprised – her lips parted in astonishment as if she didn't know what to reply to his words, her quivering fingers touched his hand stroking her cheek.

"I fear your harsh judgment, brother. It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience." She muttered in shame, lowering her gaze; he felt a squeeze in his throat at her words, not believing what he heard, what she confessed to him.

I am afraid of your harsh judgment, brother.

It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience.

How could she think so? Was his eternal desire, his suffering so expressed in his gaze, his facial expressions, his gestures?

Did she perceive his rage at the lack of her closeness as his constant displeasure at the sight of her?

He was horrified by how deep the misunderstanding reached – he didn't know what he should do to fix it now, to reverse it, he ran out of words that could describe what he felt.

How glad he was that she was standing before him now, that she trusted him, that he had adored her from the moment she came into the world, cherished her with a love that was warm, tender and devoted, that he believed she had been born to be his, his sweet joy, his beautiful little sister.

He swallowed loudly, parting her plump, fleshy lips with his thumb, looking at her in emotion, feeling a painful tightness in his throat.

"My sweet sister, where did these words come from? How could I feel anything but adoration towards you?" He asked softly, feeling her whole body quiver at his words – her mouth parted involuntarily, letting his thumb go deeper, between her puffy, sticky lips.

Something changed in her gaze, dreamy and warm, from which he felt heat in his chest and lower abdomen, her fingertips digging into the skin of his palm.

"Ivestragī umbagon issa (let me stay)." She whispered in a trembling, uncertain voice, and he felt his breath caught in his throat, his manhood throbbed aggressively in his breeches at the thought that she wanted to stay in his bed, in his embrace.

His surprised silence made her lower her gaze, ashamed, apparently panicking at the thought of what she had suggested, of how indecent it was, surely thinking that he would now despise her.

"Very well." He muttered quickly, not wanting her to leave his side.

She lifted her hopeful gaze to him and nodded, swallowing loudly, her cheeks pink with emotion. He rubbed his thumb over her wet skin and leaned over her placing a tender, lingering kiss on her forehead, her wonderful scent filling his lungs again.

He took her small hand in his, guiding her towards his bed, sitting down on it with his face towards her, letting her stand over him and decide what would happen next, looking at her pleasant, girlish figure.

It seemed to him that she had no idea what they were doing, whether it was right – he could see thoughts and doubts running across her face, fears of what would happen if their mother found out.

"Come. Do not fret. Your big brother would never hurt you." He whispered in a voice trembling with emotion – he was hot, his heart pounding like mad in his chest, he felt butterflies in his stomach, a sweet delight of satisfaction spread through his body.

His words emboldened her; she stepped closer to him, standing between his thighs, breathing loudly. He sighed and closed his eyes as she took his face in her soft hands, stroking it for a moment with gentle, slow movements that made his throat dry up; he felt with horror that his cock was completely hard, all swollen and throbbing.

In a gesture of desperation he snuggled into her abdomen, clasping his large hands on her back – he heard her surprised gasp, her hands froze upwards for a moment before they began in a soft, calm motion to stroke his head as if he were a small child.

He closed his eyes, snuggling into her body, the material of her gown pleasantly delicate and soft; he could feel her flesh throbbing from beneath it, her womb that could swell with his inheritance, his dragon seed that could root deep inside her if only she noticed his devotion and love, if only she understood that they had always been destined for each other.

He clenched his fingers tighter on the material of her gown when he felt her lean in, enclosing him in her embrace – his face was locked between her shoulders, her womb and her breasts, enveloping him in her warmth, her hands running down his back with such tenderness and gentleness that he closed his eyes, wanting to focus only on that feeling.

"I am terrified, lēkia." She whispered softly, her breasts trembling in a broken breath – he moved away to look at her, his hand cupped her soft, warm cheek.

"Marry me, issa dōna rūklon (my sweet flower). Marry me and I will protect you. I will caress you, adore you, hold you in my arms, I will give you everything." He said in a quivering, low voice, placing the emphasis on the last word, so final, direct, betraying how desperate he was.

She looked at him for a moment, shocked, her lips twitching in disbelief, in terror and something else that shone in her dark eyes, but which he did not comprehend.

"You don't have to do this. Sacrifice yourself for me." She mumbled with a blush of shame, as if she thought his suggestion stemmed from his logic and tactics, from helping her not to leave her home, rather than from his feelings.

"How much longer do you want to torment me? Shall I fall on my knees before you and beg?" He asked resentfully, pain emerging from his throat with every word he spoke – her eyebrows arched in disbelief, her breasts began to rise and fall rapidly in accelerated, ragged breathing.

Her face expressed that only now did she realise what he meant.

"Marry me, brother. Marry me and never leave me again." She whispered so quietly that he barely heard her – they looked at each other with wide eyes, not believing what had just left their mouths, flushes of shame and doubt burning their cheeks.

He shuddered and drew in a loud breath as she placed her hands on his shoulders and climbed tentatively into his lap, startling him completely – he felt a jolt of heat, his cock so hard that he felt like it was about to explode.

All he felt was a squeeze in his throat and the heavy pounding of his heart when her soft fingers gently grasped his hand, her face blushing with embarrassment, a sigh full of arousal escaped her lips as she pulled her gown up, slipping it slowly between her legs.

They both opened their mouths wide and gasped loudly, surprised apparently at how intimate and shameless this sensation was – he thought in disbelief that she was leaking with desire, her hot opening pulsating restlessly under his fingers, her hand pressing them harder against her quivering flesh, eager to feel him deeper.

"− please − please −" She whimpered, breathing loudly, looking at him pleadingly with her dark eyes full of tears. He stared at her in shock wondering if it was possible that he had made a mistake, that he had misjudged the situation, that contrary to what he thought, she was reciprocating his affection.

His lack of hesitation, his fingertips that dug into her fleshy, hot womanhood surprised her so much that she squealed and hopped up on his lap – he put his free arm around her and held her in place, not letting her escape.

"− easy, little dove − shhhh −" He hushed her, his two fingers sinking into her plump muscles, collecting her moisture that leaked from her thirsty, throbbing core. He stared at her, seeing the expression on her face indicating that this experience had shocked her, sweet, soft moans erupted from her puffy, glistening lips, her hips involuntarily began to move to the rhythm of his hand.

"− that's it − let me take care of you − brothers know what is good for their sisters, don't they? −" He hummed low as if he were speaking to a small child and she only nodded, clearly having trouble concentrating. He sighed in pleasure as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her moist, sweet lips pressed against his in a sticky, loud kiss.

He murmured into her mouth with delight, thinking with awe that indeed her skin felt like the flesh of a fruit, wet and sticky to the touch, his fingertips teasing her bud hidden between her folds. He could feel her bouncing in his lap and trembling all over, quivering in his arms as his fingers roamed around that spot, their breaths raspy and loud, full of desire.

"− y-yes − right here, lēkia − mghmm −" She babbled in between their messy, saliva-wet kisses – he dared to slip his tongue between her plump lips answered by her sweet purr of pleasure, his hand all soaked with her juices, his long, slender fingers digging into her skin in circular, sure strokes.

"− just like that − soaking wet for me − issa dōna hāedar (my sweet little sister) −" He cooed in delight, feeling his swollen length pushing impatiently against his breeches, thinking only of how wonderful it would be to feel her, to watch his fat cock open her wide, her tight folds glistening from her moisture.

"− mhm −" She hummed between passionate, deep, ferocious kisses, a combination of their lips, teeth and tongues licking against each other.

She tilted her head back and moaned loudly as his fingers slowly made their way inside her, exploring her throbbing, swollen core – his thumb rubbed her her pearl, his fingertips searched intensely for the spot he'd read so much about in books, and when he found it her walls began to clench around him in convulsions, a pathetic whimper escaping her lips.

"− o-oh gods, brother, yes, please, please, please −" She mewled desperately, clasping her hands in his long hair, rising and falling on his fingers with a loud click of her moisture – he grasped the nape of her neck with his free hand and pulled her close, forcing her lips, swollen from his caresses, to join his in sticky, hot kiss.

"− come on, little one − I can feel you are close − thaaat's it, there we go −" He gasped out into her throat when a powerful shudder ran through her body, her moans of delight erupting from her mouth again and again as her hot muscles began to clench greedily around his fingers, sucking him inside, his hand all sticky with her fulfilment.

He was panting loudly along with her, cuddling her quivering body, thinking of how wonderfully warm and fleshy her insides were, how perfectly she would squeeze his cock once he could possess her whole, his sweet wife, filling her to the brim with his seed every night.

He intended to perform his marital duty with passionate devotion.

"− such a good girl − you did so well for me, dōna hāedar −" He praised her, wanting to reassure and soothe her, stroking her soft hair, pressing her face to the hollow of his neck, his hand between her thighs cupped over her pulsing, moist womanhood.

The smell of her wetness, of her flesh, of her sex filled his entire lungs, so lewd, ungodly and wonderfully carnal – his mouth placed involuntarily little butterfly kisses on her beautiful face, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted in delight and disbelief, her hands clenched on the material of his chemise.

He grasped her fingers in his and lifted them to his lips, kissing them with tenderness and reverence as his other hand stroked unashamedly her plump bare buttock hidden beneath the material of her gown.

"Now it's my turn."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses

941 notes · View notes

fuckmyskywalker · 9 months

Note

🕯️🧺 w anakin? plz? 🥺❤️

Prompt: 🕯️ "You weren’t supposed to hear that.” | 🧺 Stepcest. — Anakin Skywalker.

CW: 18+, smut!. stepcest, dub-con/non-con (reader is drunk and under other substances, they don't explicitly say yes but they don't say no either so). Anakin is quite violent in here, and mean, and a bitch. Dirty talk, Oral sex (m), struggling with feelings, Anakin is an idiot tbh but he is my filthy, pervert idiot. | Word count: 2.9k (...somebody kill me.)

a/n: This is so disgustingly delicious I couldn't help myself, sorry. It was supposed to be a short drabble but ended up being almost 3k of pure filth.

His feet tap the rug of the living room anxiously; Anakin knows he should stay away from all this, lock himself in his bedroom, and jack off before bed.

But as usual, his thoughts are even more complicated than that, he is caught between a situation that he isn’t sure has a positive outcome or even one for that matter. It’s the same conflict he has been going through ever since his wonderful mother had the great idea to marry your awesome dad who treated her as she deserved and welcomed Anakin as his son. But that wasn’t the problem.

It was you.

Anakin wanted you, so bad it burned his skin and chained his heart to a cold wall of self-restraint. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept repeating to himself every night he heard you in the adjacent room, moaning softly under your own caresses and all he could do was rub his uncomfortable erection to at least ease some of the yearning. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept whispering in the shower, closing his eyes to not see his hands squeezing your bottle of shampoo and consuming his sanity in the sweet scent of strawberry shortcake, relishing in the calmness your characteristic smell brings him. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept saying in the solitude of the obscure living room, waiting for you to come back from whatever fucking party you decided to sneak out that night.

It was easier to mask his desires and sinful lusts for you under a coat of anger. Always snapping at you, yelling, pushing you away. Anakin found that nasty attitude as an effective coping mechanism. For a while. You suddenly stopped talking to him, searching for his friendship or a simple common ground so you two could be in the same room without screaming and throwing insults at each other until either his mother or your father had to step in.

Neither of them tried to interfere unless things got heavily verbal and one time, physical. They both concluded it was only the edge of getting used to this new dynamic. You and Anakin just need more time to grow accustomed to each other’s presence, that’s it. Plus, Shmi didn’t feel entitled to scold you, and your father was never good at dealing with “women’s emotions”.

Deep down, Anakin was feeling guilty, and he, much like your father, wasn't good at dealing with others’ emotions, less alone his. He never tried to apologize either, which perhaps was why he was doing this. Aside from that repetitive statement of “this is wrong”, he tries to swallow his guilt and add to the mix a hint of “this is how I show my worry for her”. Which, if being brutally honest, was a pretty shitty way of doing so. Glancing at the digital clock on the fireplace, his anxious tapping gets stronger, it is almost 3:30 am. He hesitates, should he call you? Would you even pick up the phone? Should he just drop this whole act off and go to bed? Anakin feels too tired to even masturbate, or too angry, it doesn’t matter. The thoughts and “what ifs” begin to drown him, and if there is something that the unstable bastard is, is an overthinker.

As luck would have it, his head snaps up when he hears the front door click open softly, followed by a muffled giggle. He stands up slowly, careful not to make a single noise. Are you alone? He hopes you are. The idea of seeing you with someone else twists his stomach with jealousy, quickly followed by that familiar wave of guilt. He has no right over you, that is a fact, and yet he forces himself to look over it, using the poor, sick excuse of being your stepbrother to worry about you; Even if his worry is translated into being a bitch, spying your every movement, and fucking his fist to the thought of you.

He sees you stumbling through the front door, clicking the latch with what appears to be shaky fingers. Anakin remains silent as he scoots closer to you, resting on the frame of the arch that leads from the living room to the hallway that connects with the front door and the kitchen. You fail to notice his presence, too busy struggling to keep both feet on the floor as your heels hang from your right hand and your purse on your left. The tiniest bit of relief travels through his veins, at least you are alone. You walk past Anakin, but he doesn’t let you wander more than three steps.

“Had a fun time? He asks in a sarcastic, dry tone. Cold blue eyes scan you up and down unashamedly, taking notice of how revealing and tight your outfit looks.

With a loud gasp you turn around in a split second, your eyes widen and your mouth contorts into an expression of shock and drunken panic, Anakin predicts your scream and sprints towards you clasping a hand over your mouth and pushing you against the nearest wall. If he was upset before now he is fuming. “Shut the fuck up” He whispers against your face, his hot breath fanning over your nose. Up close Anakin notices how your eyes are droopy, puffy, and red. “If you wake them up I won’t save your ass”

You try to push him away but to no avail, Anakin is stronger than you, and your drunken state completely eats up your stability. Your head shakes side to side trying to remove his hand from your mouth but it only makes him push it harder until your lips begin to feel numb. “Where were you?” He asks, towering right in front of you in a frightening yet… arousing way. “And what the fuck is that outfit?”

It’s rather ironic how your stepbrother keeps interrogating you but also takes away your ability to talk— You let go of your heels that fall to the wood floor with a muted sound, trying to push him away with your palm against his chest.

Which apparently infuriates Anakin further. “Keep your hands off me, who knows where they’ve been” He hisses and slaps your hand away and pins it to your side with frustrated force. “Were you with someone?” Anakin hisses, so close to your face you can see how deep his eyes are. You never recall they were such a pretty shade of blue.

You shake your head at his last question, the only verbal indication you can give. His shoulders seem to relax the tiniest bit just to return to his usual tense shape. “Don’t fucking lie to me” He warns you and spits your name in a venomous way that should hurt your feelings and bring tears to your eyes. You shake your head again this time more desperately, this is the closest he had ever been to you ever since your father married his mother and it’s borderline scary. “You smell like a damn distillery, fucking disgusting”

Instead of pushing him again, you raise your knee to hit his hip, your goal was his crotch but you missed by a lot. Anakin grunts in pain and lets go of your mouth for a second letting you take a heavy, desperate breath. Your body feels dizzy and sweaty and it’s all because of him. The altercation only lasts a few seconds and you don’t even reach the first stair before Anakin yanks your hair and slams your body back to a wall.

“Let go of me—” You whine with little conviction. “Get the fuck off Anakin I—” Your voice isn’t a plea, it’s an irritated complaint that makes you focus on everything else besides the burning ache that is beginning to form in between your legs at the tussle between your stepsibling. You expect his hand to clasp over your mouth again and the little self-consciousness left in your mind decides to bite his palm if he does so—

But instead, his lips crash over yours messily, punching all the air from your lungs. Your body reacts faster than your mind and the first thought that swirls in your hazed head is: His tongue tastes like heaven. Anakin quietly grunts at the strong flavor of liqueur and cheap cigarettes that fills his senses, pushing his hips forward basically rubbing his half-hard cock against your hip. Using his grip on your hair he yanks your head upwards so his lips can attack your jaw and neck, rapt in your heavy panting. Anakin’s knee finds a comfortable spot between your thighs, rubbing the sharp bone over against your needy core. Your body jolts slightly and you mewl into the cold air of the staircase hallway. You want to touch him, run your hands through his hair, cup his beautiful face, embrace this sick, prohibited feeling— but the emotional grip he was on you is doing its job. You can’t seem to find the strength to move a single muscle, melting into a wordless puddle for the person who you were supposed to hate.

Anakin’s knee picks up an acceptable pace forcing you to move your hips involuntarily to relieve some of the ache. You couldn’t remember when was the last time you were this wet, and even if you wanted to— it would’ve been impossible. He leaves wet, lewd kisses over your neck before sucking and biting your skin, ravishing you as if you were his prey, and perhaps you were. Anakin’s hand which isn’t gripping at your hair so hard your scalp is burning, squeezes your hip with the same brutal, appealing force.

“You don’t have any idea how bad I want you” Anakin breathes against your neck, his voice lingering with that dangerous edge, mixed with what appears to be compassion, but not for you, for himself.— or even emotion. “You get under my damn skin, you make me lose my damn mind” His white teeth are like a threat, sinking into every inch of skin available, marking you.

To care? You don’t have it in you. Probably not even if you were sober. Your mind struggles to come up with a reply, the ocean you are swimming in has everything except guilt, which was burning Anakin’s soul. “I know…” You whispered weakly, pushing your hips forwards and biting your lip to choke a moan at how good it felt to be humping your stepbrother’s knee. “I heard you jacking last month— you moaned my name” It was a miracle you could even build the sentence together, your voice was slurred and broken, but Anakin understood every word.

He curses under his breath, and the surprising sight of his flushed, red cheeks seems to break your drunk trance for a moment. Anakin hides his face in your shoulder, resting his forehead on the muscle. “You weren’t supposed to hear that” He mutters, it feels humiliating, but the simple act of unintentional humiliation makes his cock twitch inside his grey sweats.

“I did”

“Shut up”

“I liked it”

Anakin’s head snaps upwards, meeting your half-lidded eyes. He wants to believe you. The doubt flies around his head: He is not used to having what he wants— Why would you be the exception? Is this his chance to be greedy and take the only thing he has been craving for months now? Is this how Eve felt when the Devil offered her the forbidden fruit?

Are you his forbidden fruit?

Is this the way out from Eden?

It was too much.

Lowering his knee he glares at your discontented groan, placing both hands on your shoulders and forcing you to kneel. The intention is clear, and it doesn’t take you long to pick it up. Your shaky hands fumble with the little bow on his swears but Anakin just pushes them away, muttering something about ‘how stupidly drunk you are you can’t even do something for yourself’. What is also not a surprise, is the lack of underwear— but what it is— is his cock.

Your mouth waters at the sight of it, completely hard right in front of your face. Swallowing, you allow him to guide the tip to your open, awaiting mouth. The first touch is like touching heaven, or hell— Your warm tongue swirls over the sensitive head tasting the salty precum, wondering what could you do to be able to savor him again. Anakin places his large hand on the back of your head fighting the urge to push you all the way in. He is trying to be nice, at least a little. Although, it seems like you have other plans; He is bigger than other guys you’ve seen, not massive but certainly above average. Perhaps big enough that you can see the outline on your lower stomach if he fucks you. Sliding a couple more inches inside your wet mouth you roll your eyes at the way Anakin’s breath hitches and how his hips push forwards the slightest bit.

The wonderful weight of his cock on your tongue is hypnotizing, and you waste no time bobbing your head back and forth, sliding a bit more of his cock after a couple of minutes. Raising your eyes, you find Anakin staring directly at you, his blue irises dilated and almost glowing in a predatory manner.

His breathless chuckle catches you off guard. “You must be a slut if you suck cock this good.” It’s a double-edged compliment, either way, it feels good. You whine around his dick making him hiss in pleasure, biting his lower lip to keep the noises down. He can only imagine the catastrophic consequences if his mother (or your father) wakes up and finds his son’s cock buried in his stepsibling’s throat. “Fuck— I wish I could have you on your knees all day…”

You try to nod at the idea, it sounds great— it fucking does. The struggle for air starts to hit you, and the lustful haze replaces the alcohol haze in your head and bloodstream— You are no longer drunk in cheap tequila, vodka, and whatever the fuck was in that igloo; no, you are drunk in his cock, his scent, his voice, in him.

You decide to go big, because well, you already are home. Deepthroating him rewards you with a delightful moan, not loud enough to bounce over the walls of the first floor but enough for you to pick it up and moan as an aftereffect. Your throat contracts around his hard cock and Anakin is a dead man. The little restraint he had left breaks and the next thing you feel is your head banging against the wall to keep you in place as he fucks your face. His hips thrust on and on, your gags and chokes sobs only spurring him further. Your nails dig into his thighs and his balls graze against your chin with every frantic snap. Anakin is painting, sweating, sinning.

If this was the forbidden fruit, could he blame Eve at all?

Your tears, your smeared makeup, the drool that trickles down your chin is like a work of art. Anakin thinks you look beautiful, but it isn’t enough. The muted pounding of the back of your skull against the wall shouldn’t be as erotic as you register it, forcing your mouth open, letting him use you, ruin you, own you in the nastiest way possible.

Anakin’s release comes without warning. His cock twitches inside your mouth and some thick, hot ropes of cum slide down your throat before he moved out of the warm paradise that your mouth was to paint your face with his cum. He exhales shakily, stroking the base to make sure everything is out and on you. The thick globe of cum that slides down your cheek reaches the corner of your lips and you stick your tongue to catch it, making Anakin squeeze his eyes close and wipe the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand.

The silence is everything but tense, it even feels comforting; as if all the words that you two wanted to scream were now said— in such a carnal, animalistic way. Anakin’s hands are gentle as he helps you get up, giving you the time you need to calm yourself and settle the unsteadiness of your legs. His arm wraps itself around your waist, trying so badly not to look at your cum-stained face in order to not get hard again.

“Sorry,” He whispers as the familiar sensation of guilt makes itself present and commences to weigh his shoulders down. His nose scratches your shoulder, and every negative thought begins to swirl inside his mind.

“Don’t be” You reply, trying to smile but you are too tired to even do it.

The clock ticks 4:12 am.

“Is it wrong if I say I love you?” Anakin’s voice is searing with regret, what has he done? The martyrdom rings inside his chest, constricting it and echoing like big, golden bells.

“I don’t know” Your answer is sincere. You blink some tears away, wiping some of his lukewarm cum away from your face, it’s beginning to dry up. “But I love you too, so, if it’s wrong…”

He knows what you are implying.

The clock ticks 4:16 am when he helps you undress and wipes your face with a makeup remover wipe. Anakin helps you get dressed, noticing your pajama top was an old t-shirt that belongs to him, a piece of clothing he simply imagined he lost in the washer machine. His lips are soft when he tucks you in bed. You smile at him tiredly, kissing him back.

No more words were needed.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn’t my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya answers!#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skwalker #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #stepbrother!anakin #stepbrother!Anakin Skywalker

718 notes · View notes

patolemus · 6 days

Text

Sterek fic recs: Fake Dating AU Edition

Because @oldefashioned requested a fake dating rec list, here it is. These are all very funny, as fake dating fics ought to be, so I hope you get a good laugh out of it.

1. Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Notes: Domestic pack, my beloved. Stiles and Derek are precious here, I LOVE THEM!! The visiting pack, not so much, but who cares about them?? It's all pretty lighthearted, all things considered. It's completed.

2. Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Notes: Werewolf convention fics are so good! I actually haven't found all that many, considering how common a trope it is, and it's a tragedy because they're always so well done! This one is no exception, and the mini-world building is also great! It's completed.

3. can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma." (Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Notes: this one is just *cheff´s kiss* wonderful! It's all pretty domestic and the humor is on point. College student Stiles and the Sheriff are strong armed into spending Thanksgiving with Stiles' grandma, and they find nothing better than to bring Derek with them. Pining and misunderstandings ensue and thus comes the fake dating. It's completed.

4. Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so… “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“ “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.” “A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Notes: this had such a chokehold on me when I first read it. Absolutely wonderful. Enemies to lovers?? Maybe. Assholes to assholes-in-love, is a better descriptor. There's werewolves, and magic, and it's awesome! It's completed.

5. He’s Not Mine by Sonnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Notes: again, it's all very domestic, like most fake dating fics ought to be. It's a kid fic, Sterek are mates, we have all the love. Not much else I can think to add... it's completed.

6. Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Notes: this one had me cracking up because it's so funny! Stiles is living his best life, for real. Derek... suffers. But it's okay, because he gets a boyfriend out of this whole thing! They are disgustingly sweet in that assholish way they have. It's completed.

7. You look like my next mistake by Vendelin

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes. His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to. In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Notes: this one had me HOWLING it's so good!! Frat boy Stiles, my beloved. It's technically not fake dating because it turns into an actual relationship pretty quickly, but it starts as fake dating so I'll take it. Stiles is an absolute sweetheart in this one, I love him! And Derek is shy, and insecure, but he's so great, and everyone gets a happy ending except Kate, which is always a good thing. It's completed.

8. All’s Fair In Orgasms and War by bleepobleep

AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE "We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!" ~ The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

Notes: okay but is this fake dating? Maaaaaybe. It's kinda complicated. Basically everyone here is a porn star and the pack has this studio where they cater to werewolves and have a whole thing about established relationships, which is where the fake dating comes up. It's surprisingly very fluffy, considering this is a porn au, and Derek is the softest goober in this one. Stiles is completely enamoured. It's completed.

9. Wanted from the You Are series by Asterekmess (Livinginfiction)

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

Notes: Alright so this series is wonderful. The world building done for the Alpha pack is also great, and that's the center of the second part (which has the fake dating). I do recommend reading the first part before jumping on to Wanted because it is a direct continuation. Also, it's an amazing au! It's completed.

10. For Love is Not Ours to Command by weathervaanes

Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right. -0- “Why does my dad say that you and your boyfriend are a bad influence on me?” “What?” “Yeah, what boyfriend? Dude, you are not allowed to not tell me crap like this. You didn't think I'd like be a douchebag or something. Right?” “No, wait, what? I have no boyfriend.” “He says you were with him at the police station.” Stiles blinks. “Uhm. Oh shit.”

Notes: Stiles just wanted to find dirt on Raphael McCall to blackmail him. Somehow, he got himself a whole ass boyfriend. It's complicated. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MareLoup

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles...what are you doing right now?” *** Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work. Partly because their visit was a complete surprise. But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend. Or even know who Derek was. But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Notes: this is to date one of my favorite Sterek fics. I laughed so much while reading this, I'm not even joking. The whole thing is a comedy of errors gone right. Stiles somehow finds himself pretending to be Derek's boyfriend, only he has no idea who Derek even is and why his family knows Stiles at all. His inner monologue is one of the funniest I've read, and his slow descent into (good natured) madness is wonderful. It's completed.

12. Love Like An Ache In The Jaw by Anonymous

“So let me get this straight,” The sheriff massages his temples, “You found a magic book, and performed a magic spell that has backfired and magically bound you to Derek Hale, rendering you both in agony if you’re not in the same room.” Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Um. Yes.” Stiles says sheepishly. “Right. And just to be clear, when we’re talking agony… exactly how agonizing is the agony?” Derek clears his throat. “Sir, I’ve had a pole stabbed through my chest and held there for an hour. This was… similar.” - In which boredom, magic and dumbassery come together to produce a Christmas miracle slash disaster. Oh, and Stiles' grandmother who knows absolutely nothing about the supernatural happens to be in town. Oops.

Notes: another hilarious one. Stiles does Stiles things and ends up magically bound to Derek. No one is amused except Stiles' grandmother, who's having the time of her life, here. It's completed!

#fake dating #fake dating aus are great #and sterek has this natural chemistry that makes it even better #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fic recs #fic rec #sterek #sterek fic recs #eternal sterek #eternalsterek #teen wolf #ao3

160 notes · View notes

whereserpentswalk · 10 months

Text

People need to realize how the internet changes the context of things, because everyone acts like an authority or like they're an example of common public opinion when they're online. I recently met someone who had a lot of reddit environmentalist takes irl. And while those are things that would seem like serious climate takes online, when they say them irl in an actual conversation my internal reaction tends to be "do you need help, I don't think thinking about this is good for your mental health". And now I'm thinking of analyzing things I read online (or even say online) as if they were meatspace statements. '

Someone calling a kid's interests cringe. Imagine them doing that irl. Imagine how disgustingly unseemly an adult making fun of a teenager's interests to their face would be. Or if they're calling you out for not being good enough at something that's a hobby, imagine them saying that to you while you're showing off your hobby, imagine how terrible they look.

Someone has a hot take about how it's wrong to be attracted to adult women with short heights or flat chests, imagine someone telling that to a guy with a petite girlfriend. Someone tells you that enjoying a story with incest means you support incest, imagine someone telling that to someone reading an ASOIAF book on the train. Someone says you can't enjoy something with a problematic creator, imagine them saying that to someone reading Lovecraft on the train.

Someone has a hot take in activist space that seems really violent or somewhat facisty. Imagine them saying that irl, even with fellow activists. Imagine someone trying to defend Stalin in an actual human conversation, or trying to defend population control for environmentalist reasons.

I know I'm privileged to live in a large city and be pretty socially active, and even I can easily fall into overly online ways of thinking. But remember, even if you can't touch grass, you can imagine how things would be on the grass.

658 notes · View notes

yourdiamoness · 4 days

Text

Live for the applause

Tiny thingy thing I decided to write bc can't NO ONE. Tell me izuku midoriya doesn't love the fact everyone loves him.[debating if I wanna make this a whole fic]

Warnings; izuku x f!reader, praise k!nk, v@ginal fingering, reader calls zuzu a good boy.

Growing up izuku didn't get much love from anyone besides his mother, she was all he genuinely had, so you can imagine how thirsty and desperate he was for more of the delicious praise he received from others.

"oh izuku, you're so strong!"

"midoriya, you're so manly!!"

Izuku this, midoriya that. No matter what the praise was, he enjoyed it. He lived for it, and thrived in it. It was all he could ever hope for.

But sooner or later it began to not be as special anymore. like the joy and thrill he would get from being praised by commoners is simply..gone.

However, when you and izuku got closer he began to enjoy the smallest things about you and what you'd do.

From the way you smiled, your loud laugh, your grumpy faces, how you eat, and more.

Everything about you was simply mesmerizing.

One time whilst you guys were having lunch together, he had opened your soda for you, simply because you didn't feel like doing it yourself. (Not that you'd ever need to again w your big n strong zuzu around!!)

He handed it back to you with no problem, not expecting anything in return. Nor for you to thank him it was just a decent gesture between friends.

"thank you, zu. You're so strong!" You tease and coo at him with a honey like voice. rolling your eyes at your words.

Well shit.

That really got him going.

He was a mess, a sloppy, mushy, flustered mess.

He couldn't stop stuttering over his words, and moving his hands and arms about, attempting to cover his reddening face.

So many people call izuku strong nowadays, he doesn't get affected by it anymore. But when you.. oh you, say something as common and basic as that, a compliment he receives from every little old lady, to teen girls in high school, to every woman his age, all the time whilst on patrol and doing simple deeds, telling him he's strong. even if you were just teasing, it got him going.

So much that before either of you knew it, he was on top of you in his dorm making out with you, shoving his tongue down your throat whilst whimpering, eager for more of you.

He was so needy, the noises he made were so lewd and dirty, you were surprised it came from him. Sweet moans leaving his soft plush lips like slippery butter. The ultimate golden boy, a symbol of hope and a beacon of light, a smile that shines so bright that it could light a boats way through a terrible storm.

He was so excited to be doing something like this, with you too?? Oh yeah, he was in heaven. He was absolutely smitten about you, and when you give the slightest praise, or even just a lick of your attention, he's a mess.

With that being said, you began kissing along his jawline moving further down his neck, rubbing your hand on his chest through his shirt, feeling along his well toned chest. (canon he works out)

He shivered at your touch wanting more. Hell, want is an understatement compared to the absolute bliss he was feeling from just your touch, getting drunk off of it, he craved you. He longed for you in the most devious and disgustingly unholy ways.

But he also wanted to hold you, caress you, gently and soothingly rub circles into your back and tell you everything would be okay while he's here.

But even with wanting all of those sweet like pie moments, he knew what he longed for more...

He whined at your touches, moving your hand further down his body until he stops it right above his cock, awaiting for a reply or some type of sign to know you want exactly what he needs.

You giggled at his bold movements before pulling him into you, his face burying itself into your neck.

"I have another idea." You coo into his ear in the softest most soothing tone ever.

Hes like a prince under your evil spell, and he has no intentions of breaking out of it.

You grab his hand before pulling it up to your lips, kissing the scars that scatter his hand, looking into his eyes lovingly.

This breaks him ultimately, he fights back a ton of emotions, not wanting to ruin the mood with tears, while watching what you do closely. You continue moving his hand down your body, grazing lightly over your boobs, then your tummy, and eventually over your thighs and what's between them.

You open your legs, which almost makes his body drop on top of you, however he holds himself on his elbow, making sure to not fall on you while you occupy his other hand.

You move his hand in between your thigh, his fingers gliding softly between the flesh, the warm, welcoming, soft to the touch, flesh. And it was yours. Oh you, how he wanted to please you so. How he yearned for your voice to get him there, that bliss he knew he needed.

But as for now, he'd wait. He'd be patient, and let you control him. Anything you wanted. Needed. He'd do.

All for you.

You glared at him. Eyes staring directly into his deep emerald eyes that shine oh so bright and look oh so eager to please. You, and only you.

You stopped his hand suddenly, and in an instant he whimpered. Looking into your eyes pleasing, begging you to bring his hand where he wanted it most.

All you can do is giggle at his reaction, the sweetest and neediest sound leaving his lips.

"do you want to touch me, zuzu?" You whisper to him your eyes never leaving his during this intimate moment.

"yes.." his voice hushed and barely above a whisper.

You hummed letting go of him and leaning back on your hands against the pillows, he takes that as a sign to do whatever he wants.

With a nervous gulp, he finally touches your wet slit, getting flushed at the fact you weren't wearing any panties.

He rubs his fingers gently up and down on your slit letting one of his fingers spread your lips slowly and gently touching your intimate area.

Your soft breathy moans. Closing your eyes, you weren't expecting such little movements to get you going this much, guess you were just as excited as he is.

He puts his finger all the way inside pulling it in and out slowly at a steady pace that makes your brain melt. How you needed more. His fingers are so thick and longer than yours.

There was no way you could go back to fingering yourself after having his inside of you.

You lean back more taking what he's giving you, he can tell you're enjoying yourself by the way your moans go from breathy to more loud, your voice going up in octave as, surprisingly, you're so close to coming.

He could tell by the way you were tightening around his finger, that you were gonna come. He wanted.. needed, you to come hard on his fingers.

He added another finger and sped up his movements, pushing them in and out at an even quicker pace, guiding you through your upcoming orgasm.

"oh gosh, izuku.." you moan just loud enough for anyone who were to walk by his dorm to hear.

He was at a loss for words, he has you, in his dorm, In his bed, nearing your climax, as he finger fucks you through it.

There really was a god, and he had just blessed izuku with you.

He wanted to speak to you really, he wanted to tell you to come hard for him, come so hard on his finger you see stars, but he couldn't, his throat had suddenly gotten terribly dry.

So instead he bit his and put his other hand on your lower stomach and presses down gently.

His warm hand on your tummy, pressing down oddly felt good to you, the pressure being applied adding more pleasure to your upcoming climax. you were so close you could practically taste it.

You pull him closer into you and hushed moans into his ear, whimpering and rolling your eyes with a smile on your lips whilst chewing on your lower one.

"come on izuku, make me cum baby.." you whisper with breathy moans taking over the end of your speech as he did exactly what you asked with expertise.

Still not speaking,he curls his fingers up inside of you while taking his hand off of your tummy to pay attention to your clit, he rubbed soft, fast circles on the little bud, matching the pace of the thrusts of his fingers.

And finally you came hard on his fingers, body arching and jolting into his.

You groaned sweetly into his ear as you held onto like your life depended on it.

He wanted you to see stars. And by the way your eyes were rolled back and how deep your teeth were into your bottom lip, he could tell he successfully made you see the bright stars that blinded and blurred your vision.

You practically saw the whole milky way, just from his odd expertise in fingering.

You sigh looking up at him with a smile still on your lower lip and bite marks slightly on it as well.

"good boy zuzu."

Izuku couldn't help but smile back, with glossy eyes like a dumbfounded puppy, his invisible tail wagging at an extreme speed.

You were kind of confused about his eyes at how glossy they were.

You shrugged it off mentally and looked down toward his pants to see a tent and a wet patch on his pants.

His face instantly burning in a deep shade of red at the sight of you eyeballing his clothed cock.

"oh sweet zuzu.." you say softly rubbing his chest still looking down at his member.

You giggle looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

"did you cum your pants, love?" You say simply not really expecting an answer since well.. it's him.

And you were right. No answer, just him whimpering and pushing you down into the bed and climbing onto you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

He sighs through his nose as you feel the warmth pool in the area as you sigh in comfort as a sudden familiar wave of ultimate comfort washes over you.

The both of you doze off an icky sticky mess<3

AN; I hope this was enjoyed, I wrote this originally in like? January and just finished it at like 2 am so.. yeah!

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #deku smut #izuku x reader smut #MikahSpeaks!!#izuku is so girlie pop

130 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

For the requests! I present to you...

Eddie reacting to Steve in a crop top and super short shorts for the very first time ever as Steve's just minding his own business and doing the most mundane things ever 👀

Oh what FUN. I needed this prompt SO bad and I had fun with it. Honestly I relate to Eddie so much here: just completely feral over Steve in a crop top and shorts. Hope you enjoy! - Mickala ❤️

—————————————————————

Hawkins was hot during the summer, but that was nothing to the Florida heat.

Florida wasn’t Eddie’s idea, to be clear.

His idea was anywhere not south.

July was hot enough everywhere, why make it worse?

Apparently, he was the only one with common fucking sense.

But Steve insisted on a beach trip, and apparently the only beach that was sufficient for the kids was in Florida.

Eddie wasn’t built for this. He was pale, only owned long black jeans, and his hair stuck to his face and neck the moment he started to break a sweat.

But Steve was so excited and the kids were so excited and so Eddie was tolerating it.

Steve bought an actual RV.

When Max got out of the hospital, basically adopted her when her mom was nowhere to be found, he bought one, not too big, but big enough for everyone to have a space.

Robin took the couch, insisted on it, not sharing with anyone, not even Steve. El and Max took a bottom bunk, Dustin the other bottom bunk. Steve didn’t let Mike and Will share a bunk because he went full parent mode the second he saw them holding hands, so Will took one top bunk with Lucas and Mike took the other. Which left Steve obviously taking the queen bed in the back, and Eddie the bed with him or the floor.

So Eddie argues with himself for a week leading up to the whole long two day ride to Florida about sleeping on the floor, about maybe trying to bunk with Dustin, who kicks and snores like a grown man fighting in a boxing ring. Considered begging Mike to suck it up and share so he wouldn’t have to face what he’d been ignoring for six months now: that he was ass over head, disgustingly, write songs about him, in love with Steve Harrington.

He barely even talks to Steve, probably coming across as an asshole, but Robin covers for him, makes sure he’s given the space he needs to come to terms with the fact he has to share a bed with Steve on this journey.

By the end of the first day, he’d managed to come to terms with sharing a bed with him. A queen bed was big enough for space between them, he could wake up first so there’d be no chance of Steve seeing how hard he would be. He could make it work.

Making it work apparently meant not sleeping at all.

He didn’t even close his eyes. He felt every movement next to him, heard every breath Steve let out, every groan when he moved in a way that caused his healed but still sore bat bites to twinge.

He felt every twinge in his heart knowing that Steve was turned towards him, getting closer with every movement, and he had to ignore it.

He had to ignore it because if he didn’t, he’d turn around and pull Steve against him, play with his stupid, soft hair, and run his hand up and down his stupid, muscular, naked back.

So he was a bit tired on day two of their travels. Steve asked if he could drive for a couple hours so he could braid the girls’ hair. What was he supposed to say? No?

Not fucking likely.

So he drove, even though he was exhausted, and hadn’t drive an RV before in his life, and probably shouldn’t have been allowed near a real map for any reason other than passing it to someone else.

Robin, luckily, saw him struggling, and quickly made her way to the passenger seat to be navigator.

She didn’t say anything about it, she didn’t ask about his night, and she didn’t offer to trade sleeping spots with him. He tried not to be a little bitchy about it, but honestly, she was supposed to be Steve’s best friend, why couldn’t she sleep with him?

When Steve finally yelled to him to pull off the next exit to switch, he felt like he could breathe again.

Maybe he could take a nap in the bed since Steve was driving now.

But then Dustin wanted to talk about the campaign they’d do when they got to the campsite and Will got involved and then Mike had to add his (wrong) opinion about a trap that he was convinced Eddie would throw in. Eddie’s head was starting to hurt and they still had six hours to go.

Eddie managed to sneak away to the bedroom after they stopped for gas and lunch, slept for maybe 30 minutes, then got woken up by El, who wanted her nails painted to match her bathing suit and he couldn’t say no.

Of course, Max decided she wanted her nails painted too, and then Robin said she needed a touch up and didn’t trust herself to do it so Eddie got wrangled into painting everyone’s nails.

He barely even realized when they arrived.

But suddenly, Steve was standing next to him, smiling down at him, making Eddie want to die and also propose marriage at the same time.

“The kids are already running to the water. Wanna help me set up?”

Steve could have asked him to murder someone and he would, so he said yes.

“Cool, I’ll just change. Can you get the awning out and the chairs set up?”

“Yep, don’t take too long and make me do all the work.”

Steve laughed. Eddie laughed.

Eddie was serious, but if anyone could get away with making him do all the work, it was Steve.

So he got started on it all.

He watched Robin walking slowly towards where the kids were running along the water’s edge to keep an eye on them, all of them just a little nervous to let them out of their sights still.

He started turning the crank of the awning, already sweating from the heat and humidity, the breeze just blowing more hot air and sand at him.

He’d never been to the beach before, and he was quickly realizing why he didn’t mind that.

Once the awning was set, he opened the side compartment to pull out some of the camping chairs Steve bought for the occasion.

“Everything going okay?”

Eddie looked up to answer Steve and froze.

Steve had changed.

He’d changed into the shortest crop top Eddie had ever seen and a pair of shorts that his ass was going to pop out of the moment he bent over.

He couldn’t breathe.

Steve’s skin was just. There.

His scars, the scars that matched Eddie’s, were there.

Out in the open.

So much skin just happening right in front of Eddie’s eyes.

“Eddie? You okay? Need help?”

Eddie coughed, trying to hide the fact he was practically choking on his own spit.

“Good. I’m good. So good. Great.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, but he nodded.

“Okay, well I’m gonna hook up the plumbing and electric. Think you can get the hot dogs and buns out and start the fire for when the kids come back super hungry?”

Eddie knew he was asking him something, possibly something important, but he didn’t understand any of it. He nodded, though.

He watched Steve walk around to the other side of the RV.

So much skin.

Holy shit.

Eddie wanted to rip those clothes off of him. He wanted to taste the sweat that was dripping down his neck. He wanted to carry him back into the RV, lock the door, and fuck him into the mattress of the bed they had to share later.

He could do it. Robin would keep the kids busy. She’d understand.

But no. There was a reason he hadn’t acted on his feelings. There was a reason he’d been keeping his distance, making sure he was never alone with Steve.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice when Steve came back around the corner, sweatier than before, his skin glistening in the sun.

God, this had to be illegal. This was a war crime. This was torture.

Survived almost being eaten alive by demon bats just to die in Florida watching Steve hook up an RV.

Sounds like a sick joke by the universe, but not that hard to believe considering his history.

“Eds? You good? You look like you need some water.”

Steve was walking up to him now, using the crop top to wipe his forehead, showing off even more skin. Jesus Christ.

“Maybe I do need to cool off. Um. Let me go inside and get some water. Great idea.”

Eddie was somehow making his legs work, rushing into the RV so he could get some space before he did something stupid like kiss Steve and tell him that he loves him.

But Steve was concerned, he should’ve known he would follow him inside.

“Eddie. Hey, just relax. The heat is a lot, maybe you should get your bathing suit on and just cool off a bit. I can handle the rest of this stuff,” Steve said as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink.

Must’ve got the water working then.

Steve, to Eddie’s horror and delight, sat down next to him and put his arm around him, handing him the glass of water with a worried look.

Eddie took it, ignoring the way his hands were shaking, hoping Steve would ignore it too.

He didn’t.

“Eddie, shit. You overdid it. I shouldn’t have had you helping out in that heat like that. You’re still technically healing.” Steve’s hand ghosted over where Eddie’s worst scars were on his sides. “I’m sorry. Just stay in here, I’ll get the AC going so it’s cool. You can change, maybe you’ll cool off faster.”

Eddie knew the problem wasn’t really the heat. And Steve wasn’t going to stop this.

Eddie was watching the way the crop top rode up the more Steve fretted over him, the way his thighs were fighting their way out of the shorts.

He had to tell him.

Eddie pulled away from him for a moment, took a really long look at the scar on Steve’s thigh that wasn’t Upside Down related, and then sighed.

“You’re killing me. The heat sucks, but it’s nothing compared to what you’re doing to me.”

That should’ve been where he stopped. But he didn’t.

“Stevie, you’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Like, hotter than Ozzy and James Hetfield combined. Which is crazy because you are nothing like them. You’re you. And like I’m me. And I’m really gay. If that wasn’t clear yet then now it is. I’m super gay. I’m also super into you. I know you’re not into guys, even if you were, you wouldn’t be into me. So like, I get that this is weird and you don’t even have to look at me for the rest of the trip. I’ll sleep on the floor or something. It’s just this outfit is sending me over the edge. I didn’t even know they made shorts that short. And that top? It’s breaking my brain. It’s leaking out of my ears.”

Steve was laughing by the end, which isn’t the worst thing that could be happening, but it certainly wasn’t the best.

“And I mean, when I say super into you, I don’t just mean stupid little high school crush. I mean like I’m in love with you. I love you entirely too much. Like, probably enough where I would be creeped out if someone loved me this much. So I think you should go back outside and let me just wallow in my self pity for a bit in here and then I’ll come back outside and pretend I didn’t just tell you the biggest secret I’ve been keeping for months.”

“Are you done?” Steve asked, no longer laughing, but smiling fondly at him.

Eddie nodded, worried that his outburst probably ruined everything.

But then Steve’s lips were on his, and his hands were in his hair, and his thighs were straddling his lap.

Eddie’s brain shut off and his body took over.

It wasn’t his first kiss by any means, but it was the first kiss with Steve Harrington, which made it more special by default.

He let his hands fall to Steve’s naked thighs, moaning into the kiss when he felt his muscles shift under his palms as he adjusted to a more comfortable position.

Steve pulled away and looked at him with droopy eyes.

“What were you thinking about out there? You were lost in your own world.”

“I was thinking about fucking you into the mattress of that bed while Robin distracts the kids.”

Steve groaned and kissed him again.

“Can we do that?”

Jesus. Steve was something else.

“Sweetheart, as much as I know you’d far surpass any fantasy I’ve had, the kids could be back any minute and we won’t have an explanation for them.”

“We don’t need an explanation if we just tell them the truth,” Steve pouted, trailing soft kisses down Eddie’s neck.

“So you wanna sit them all down and tell them their dad was fucking their mom into the mattress?”

Steve pulled away and smacked Eddie’s chest.

“No! I just figured we could say you needed a nap. Since you didn’t sleep last night.”

Eddie paled. How the fuck did Steve know that?

“Relax. I was asleep last night, it’s not like I was watching you struggle to keep distance between us. But I saw how tired you were this morning and Robin let it slip that you couldn’t get comfortable and made my assumptions.”

Eddie shook his head.

“Well then you’ll know I am actually tired. I probably could use that nap.”

Steve placed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Then you should take one. I’ll finish up outside.”

“Kinda want you with me though.”

“One of us has to be the responsible parent who sets everything up and gives the kids dinner.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie smirked. “This is like your ultimate fantasy isn’t it? Road trip with your kids and your partner?”

Steve blushed.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m right! That’s why I love you, Stevie,” Eddie said before kissing his forehead. “I’ll come start the fire for the hot dogs. You stay away from me so I can focus.”

“Damn. I was gonna take off the shirt, though.”

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I am begging you to keep it on.”

“Oh. Is this like a thing for you?” Steve teased.

“So what if it is?”

“Then I’ll keep it on and you can fuck me into the mattress with it on later. How’s that sound, big boy?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Using my own words against me? Unbelievable.”

Steve shrugged and got off his lap, much to Eddie’s dismay.

“I’ll have Robin bring the kids on a night walk along the beach later. Sound okay?”

“Sweetheart, nothing’s ever sounded better.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #the party #ficlet #request #steve in a crop top and short shorts #it broke me picturing it and Eddie is long gone

808 notes · View notes

arthenaa · 1 year

Text

in your arms — sebastian sallow x fem reader

plot summary: Sebastian, more often than not, annoys the fuck out of you to get your attention. Your friends think it's disgustingly adorable.

content tags: fluff, FUCK i love seb so bad, me just projecting my love on to this man, established relationship natty, poppy, imelda, ominis, you and seb hangout in the room of requirement, you're in your 7th year, kiss kiss mwa mwa, you makeout w ur bf while ur friends are in the room aw, you and seb third wheeling everyone in the room, ominis w a niffler simping for his face

"So this is where you hide every afternoon." Imelda marvels at the spacious room from where she's sitting. You had invited Natty, Poppy, Imelda, Ominis and Sebastian for a cup of tea and relaxation in your base of operations; The Room of Requirement.

You had alerted Deek beforehand that you would be inviting a couple of friends over. The house elf had been generous enough to tidy up the place before promising to leave you alone during the allotted time. You take note to find something in Hogsmeade to give to Deek as a thank you.

In the center of the room of requirement, sits a lounging room facing towards the vivarium. Sat on one of the small chairs is Imelda and on the other is Natty who sips on her cup of tea. On one of the sofas is Ominis who has a niffler on him for some reason, gawking at his face like it's some sort of jewelry and on the other sofa is you and Sebastian. Poppy, on the other hand is inside the vivarium, basking in your beasts' company. Specifically your common friend, Highwing who she had not seen for weeks.

"Professor Weasley was kind enough to let me use this to catch up on my magic." You reply as you lean back against the couch. Imelda's eyebrows raise in surprise at the information.

"Talk about having favorites." Imelda leans over to Natty who laughs at her insinuation. You playfully glare at the Slytherin gal before feeling an arm around your shoulder. You glance at the boy beside you who only gives you a boyish grin before placing peck on your cheek. Imelda lets out a disgusting groan.

"How adorable." Natty scrunches her nose as she smiles. She then turns to Ominis who is busy patting the niffler on his lap. "I do wonder how you deal with this everyday though."

"Thank Merlin, I'm blind. I never would've otherwise." Ominis snorts. Sebastian reaches over to smack his knee in retort. The young Gaunt only glares at his direction before moving farther from where Sebastian is seated, bringing the niffler with him.

"It's not my fault you all suck with your game." Sebastian sighs as he settles down to lay on the couch causing you to be pushed all the way to the end. You send your boyfriend a glare as he rests his legs on your lap. He only smiles at you. "People tend to overshadow their jealousy with jokes."

"As if I'd be jealous of you, Sallow." Imelda scoffs. "The only way I'll say that is if I was under hostage by a Giant Purple Toad and it told me the only way to live is if I had to say the most vile disgusting thing I could think of which is you apparently."

"How long is she going to take in there?" Natty intercepts Imelda's bickering as she glances at the glass doors to the vivarium where a happy Poppy coos at Highwing's offspring. Caligo chirps behind Highwing, nudging his beak against hers.

"It's easy to get yourself lost in Y/N's vivarium. I don't really know how you were able to get this many beasts in here without Professor Black's knowledge." Ominis adds as he feels the niffler crawl up his arm and sit on his shoulder. "Is he staring at me? I don't have anything shiny on my face."

"I think its because the shiny thing IS your face." Imelda chuckles as she stares at niffler leaning against his cheek. You laugh at the situation before feeling a tug on your arm. You turn towards your lover who has his eyes trained on you.

"What?" You whisper softly as your hand gently caresses his leg. He shrugs, back leaning against the arm of the couch. You roll your eyes at him. You try to turn yourself back to the conversation before there's another tug on your arm. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Do I really have to pull it out of you?" You sigh as he smirks mischievously at you. Sebastian always had the knack of annoying you. He (according to him) enjoys seeing the numerous expressions on your face whenever you got mad at him for his silly little tries of getting your attention. It always makes him want to coo and baby you whenever you've reached your limit. Apparently now is the best time to do it to you.

"Maybe." He teases as he now nudges his leg against your stomach. You slap his leg, giving him a glare which only fuels his drive to annoy you more.

He rises slightly from his position to pinch your arm before dodging the incoming smack from you. "Sebastian!" You whisper-shout. He laughs softly before glancing at the three who seem more immersed in their conversation than chastising the two of you.

"C'mere." He mumbles as he opens his arms. You raise an eyebrow at him.

"No." You say firmly as you move farther to the other side of the couch. His resolve only strengthens.

"Come here." He tries again but you decline with a shake of your head. He drops his arms on his lap with a pout before staring at you.

You know from experience that whenever Sebastian pauses for a second that something bad is brewing in his head and so you look at him with cautiousness.

"Don't." You smile nervously as you turn your back against the arm of the couch. Sebastian only smiles at you as he begins to crawl over to your side. You glance at the three as they erupt into laughter, not noticing your cry for help. Before you could try and dodge Sebastian's attack, he had already pulled you in his arms, trapping you as he pulls you on his chest, laying the two of you down.

"Sebastian!" You squeal as you try to push your hands against his chest but his grip on you is unforgiving.

"I've got you, little dove." He smiles into your hair as you playfully groan. You could only wrap your arms around him in fear of falling off the couch. He turns the two of your carefully to your side, his back to the three still lost in their conversation.

"You're annoying." You mumble as you look up at him from your position. He smiles, diving down to place a kiss on your forehead.

"To be fair, you said it was only going to be us two hanging out and then suddenly a crowd's in here." He pouts playfully as he pinches your cheek. You pinch his side in return to which he yelps in response.

"Is it so bad that I want to hangout with my friends and my boyfriend? I missed them." You retort as you hug him closer. He hums against your hair, arm under your head and his other hand caressing your waist.

"I missed you. Why don't you give me a kiss, hm?."

"No way." You raise your eyebrows at him with a stern look. He only dismisses it as he tries to lean in but you cover his mouth with your hand.

"C'mon." He whines as he removes your hand from covering his mouth. "Just a little peck?"

"Last time I allowed you to do this, we almost got caught. I'd rather not add their horrified faces with Professor Garlick's wink in my memory. I've had enough trauma this year, thank you." You reminded him with a sigh. Ever the clingy lover that he is, after your Herbology class had asked you for some affection and attention which had escalated to something more intimate. You had positioned yourselves in a bad corner which allowed Professor Garlick to catch you red handed. With your reputation as a good student and a Hero of Hogwarts as well as having a good mentor-student relationship with her, the young professor had dismissed it and claimed that she had not seen anything. Only sending you a teasing wink before moving along. You were mortified.

"They won't mind." He smiles, brushing a stray hair away from your face. "Besides, they won't see you."

Sebastian had grown out to be a wondrous and handsome man after first meeting him in your fifth year. He had grown taller, fitter and broader as a 7th year and it doesn't help that he'd more often than not, use it to his advantage to fluster you. The man knows he's attractive.

You roll your eyes at him. "Just one."

"Just one." He repeats. You raise your chin at him as he dives to place a kiss on your lips. The hand on your waist pulls you close as he tenderly moves his lips against yours. It continues on for a few seconds before he suddenly pinches your waist, making you gasp and opening your mouth in the process. Sebastian uses this opportunity to slide his tongue in. Cheeky bastard.

You softly sigh at the contact of his tongue against yours, his free hand now on the side of your face, angling it to kiss you deeper. The kiss is soft and slow allowing you to just bask in his presence. It's not fast and aggressive enough to create a fire in the depths of your stomachs but passionate enough for you to feel the spark between the two of you.

He continues to kiss you in soft pecks as he gently opens his eyes, staring at your blissed out face as you take what he gives you. "Pretty."

You only hum, lost in his affections. You could've let yourself be babied right there and then if it weren't for someone clearing their throat.

"You could've waited for us to leave the room before you ate each other's face off." Imelda cringes in disgust as she stands up from her seat. "I'll be joining Poppy now. It's like watching my parents snog each other. I'm afraid that I'd do an unforgivable on myself if I stay any further."

Sebastian gives her his middle finger as he continues to kiss you. The Slytherin girl leaves with haste as she enters the vivarium. Poppy looks at her with confusion as Imelda talks animatedly, probably ranting about her issues with Sebastian Sallow. Natty rolls her eyes as she places down her teacup to join the two other girls.

"It's best to leave the room, Ominis. Just in case those two might do something.... inappropriate." Natty laughs as she enters the vivarium as well. You would've been embarrassed by the situation if it weren't for Sebastian's constant kisses on your face.

"Again, thank Merlin, I'm blind." Ominis sighs as he stands up as well. He stops for a moment before smirking. "Make sure to use protection!"

"Fuck you, Ominis. Leave!" Sebastian playfully yells to which the young Gaunt laughs before entering the vivarium as well. The Sallow boy turns to you with a flushed face.

"You need to learn some self control, young man." You tap his nose as you smile at him.

"Have you seen yourself?" He jokes as he rubs his nose against yours, basking in your laughter. He then feels your arms around his neck, forcing his face to be close to yours.

"Anyway, who said you could stop?" You whisper as your eyes glance at his lips. Sebastian only smirks at you before brushing his lips against yours.

"Yes ma'am."

A/N: when i wrote that scene when sebastian crawled on the couch to grab u in his arms, yk that dog that creeps up on her owner before attacking her yea thats it. i think her name was coconut. kinda funny. anys another seb fluff for the people.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #poppy sweeting #natsai onai #imelda reyes

963 notes · View notes

rayshippouuchiha · 7 months

Note

Ray Ray, darling Void. I need to impart to you the AU that has been eating my brain for months:

Casually Magical Stark Industries.

Just, sure, there's the Statute of Secrecy, and most creatures have their own rules about "don't tell the normies" but it's an open secret in SI and a good chunk of their behavior policies revolve around keeping accidental harassment to various creatures at a minimum (and getting the targeted harassment destroyed with prejudice. Let's just say that leaving a silver crucifix in any of the common areas, and especially in front of the fridge, is grounds for immediate termination... of employment.)

Like, I imagine it starts with Tony, who has known that magic is real his whole life. He believed as a little kid believes, but (and I will take this headcanon to my grave) Howard had to bring him on one of his Cap Finding Expeditions for Reasons(tm) and during that time Tony and some of the workers met Santa. And once you've met literal, actual Santa Claus, there's no room for disbelief. So, once he takes over SI and sees all of the magic going on, he goes to legal to get some protections put on the books; and legal, most of whom are fae, look at this normal ass human (normal as in not magical, ofc) who is Supremely Unbothered by the supernatural presence in the company and actually seems to want to protect and... encourage it? Well, he has accidentally won the undying loyalty of a very small, but quickly expanding, Court.

Also, lets be real, Tony grew up a disgustingly wealthy genius. He has Zero concept of what is normal for people. He can build a circuit board at age 4 and an engine at 8, other people can teleport or turn into wolves, it's all on the same level to him.

Suddenly, there are two orientations: one for "this is your new job" and one for either "so, this is how you avoid getting cursed by legal/eaten by accounting, yes those are literal" or "welcome to SI, yes, we know you're magical" depending. SI eventually becomes the go to place for non-baseline human people to get a job and just an unintentional magical hub. A good 2/3rds of the entire company is some flavor of non-baseline and it works because the board and most of the baselines in upper management are too disconnected to realize that their employees are magic, or everyone has silently agreed that There's Nothing To See Here.

Tony doesn't know magic is supposed to be secret, he just thinks some people are more shy about their natures than others. Legal and PR (filled mostly with various types of demons/fiends) have a long running bet for when he'll finally get clued in (they, of course, being bound by the Rules, not to inform him themselves.) He manages to keep magic a secret completely on accident, by not realizing there's a secret at all.

I love everything about this

#RayRambles #prompt #MCU #Marvel

221 notes · View notes

nochukoo97 · 10 months

Text

seven dates a week - tuesday

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: a series of you and jungkook’s dates throughout the week, A LOT of petnames and they r super super cute 😭

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

“what?”

word count: 1.2k+

seven dates a week masterlist!

“baby come on we need to get up now,” jungkook pulls the blanket away from your sleeping figure, your hair messed up from rolling around in your sleep.

“gguk,” a whine emits from your mouth as you snuggle deeper into the pillows.

“come on, weren’t you so excited to go to the park yesterday? you didn’t even want to sleep last night,” he taunts you, his morning voice making his laughter raspy, as you smile secretly into the pillow, mumbling an incoherent reply.

before you know it, a pair of arms slides under you, making you squeak in surprise

you wiggle out of his hold before he can fully lift you up, instead repositioning yourself to wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, your head lazily leaning on his shoulder.

“such a baby,” your boyfriend tuts at you, but still carries you over to the bathroom willingly to get ready.

“your baby”

—

you and jungkook begin the day with going to the park, walking hand in hand as he hums a tune

in your hand is a half empty bag filled with expired bread, as you swing the bag, excited to feed the ducks at the pond.

smack

you’re swinging the bag of bread at your boyfriend as you two walk, each swing harder than the next as you giggle mischievously.

“yah! stop it!” jungkook attempts to grab the bag of bread from your hand but you swing it away from his grasp, grinning at his loss. he let’s you ‘win’ anyways, fondly ruffling your hair.

you soon reach the bench facing the pond, a common area where you and jungkook go to on your free days,

also the place where he had confessed his feelings for you then planted his lips onto yours three years ago.

the feelings in your chest are still the same, maybe ten times more as he kisses you in the same spot again today

jungkook leans in for another kiss, his eyes closed as his lips are inches apart from yours, you admire the sun gleaming onto his face, the small scar he has on his left cheek prominent in the light.

quack.

your boyfriend’s eyes crack open as he jumps slightly at the sudden sound, eyebrows creasing as he frowns.

the goddamn duck stopped him from kissing his girlfriend

“that piece of shit,” jungkook grumbles as he glares at the white duck sitting and peering at the bag in your hand, probably recognising your presence from the number of times you had fed it and its family.

“stop being a bully to the poor duck,” you scold jungkook as he sinks deeper into the bench, not happy with how you had sided with a freaking duck instead of him.

“aigoo, do you want some bread?” your voice raises a few octaves as you baby-voice the duck, oblivious to your boyfriend sulking next to you.

as the duck munches on the expired, almost disgustingly slightly molding bread, you look out at the large pond, where a whole family of ducks swam near the edge

“ohmygosh- baby look! there’s the whole family! let’s go and feed them!” you grab onto his hand, not looking at him as you attempt to pull him up from the bench.

but jungkook has other plans when he refuses to get up, sulking further when you finally, pay attention to him

“are you seriously jealous over a duck?” you laugh at him, but jungkook doesn’t give you a reaction

you sit back down on the bench, laying your head on his lap as you peer up at jungkook.

“baby~” you pout at him, and jungkook chews on his lip, trying his best not to fall into your temptations.

in one swift motion, you grab a piece of bread and smoosh it against your boyfriend’s mouth, causing him to let out a muffled sound of shock.

“come back here!” jungkook is now laughing and chasing you as you sit up quickly and take off with your bag of bread,

despite you running as fast as your legs would carry you, jungkook manages to catch you, wrapping his muscular arms around your figure and swinging the piece of bread that was once smacked to his mouth in front of your face

“should i do the same thing to you?” your boyfriend taunts you, as you squeal and squirm in his grasp

“baby don’t you dare!” you try and turn yourself to face his chest instead, but jungkook is too strong

your boyfriend laughs at you struggling in his hold

“i have makeup on! if you do that my makeup will be ruined!” you sneak one hand up towards jungkook and quickly smack the bread on the floor as he yelps,

“hey!”

the duck, who had been following you, eats it up.

jungkook turns you around and kisses you, panting from all the running and laughter.

—

“baby i don’t think this is a good idea,” you whine as your boyfriend pulls you gently to approach the pond

“people do this all the time jagi, just put your feet in the water, its cooling,” jungkook pats the grass next to him, making you sit down

you sink your feet into the shallow water, splashing a little as you cool off under the slightly hot sun.

“this is actually quite nice- JUNGKOOK!”

you definitely said that too soon.

“stop it! baby you’re getting me all wet!” your boyfriend uses his leg to splash water all over the both of you as he laughs

when you run away from the man who was splashing water and laughing to himself, he calls you back

“jagi im sorry, hah- come back here,” he holds out his arms, signaling for you to walk back after keeping a distance from the splashes

you glare at jungkook as he tries his best to hold back his laughter.

——

a picnic mat is laid out on the patch of grass as you and jungkook sit amongst other people enjoying the summer breeze at the park

you both eventually were bored out of your minds, jungkook deciding to lay down and relax on the mat while you mindlessly scroll through your phone

you aww silently at the video playing, a worm in a stroller as the cartoon bird takes care of it

it’s time to ask the question, you decide.

you turn to jungkook with a serious look on your face.

“baby, i need to ask you something important,” you tap his shoulder as jungkook sits up, eyes squinting slightly at the sun shining into his eyes.

“what is it jagi?”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

“what?”

“i said, if i was a worm would you still love me?”

jungkook frowns at you

“so i guess you won’t, probably feed me to that duck,” you grumble as you plop yourself back onto the mat, closing your eyes

you head your boyfriend’s laughter from the side, and theres a shadow casting over you that makes your vision under your shut eyes slightly darker

when you peer open your eyes, jungkook pecks you on the lips

“okay fine, i will love you if you was a worm,” he pushes a strand of hair away from your face.

“i’ll put you in my pocket and bring you wherever i go,” he grins boyishly at you, and you can’t help but smile back

“you better”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #boyfriend jungkook

393 notes · View notes

winterlynightlystories · 1 year

Text

My nocturnal serenade

Tw; Sukuna being Sukuna I guess. Angst!

Do not copy or steal my work please

Sukuna/Sorcerer!Male!Reader

Note; I had this story in mind for a long time. Probably will make a part two! I just wanted some angst with our favourite curse.

Summary; Facing your tomb, Sukuna still remembers you a thousand years later. Yet, you still find a way to surprise him.

~~~~~~

Standing there, on the doorstep of your tomb, stuck in a kid's body, Sukuna felt strangely numb. Of course, he knew you could not still be alive after a thousand years. After all, you were nothing but a mortal.

His mortal.

His sworn enemy.

His greatest and dearest lover.

Your smell and the sound of your heartbeat haunted every second of his awakening, leaving a hole in his existence. Freedom had, somehow, lost its taste. Because what was freedom if you weren't here to fight him? To taunt him and force him to surpass his own limits?

Sukuna almost grunted, feeling Yuji poke at his cheek where his eyes normally opened. The kid was a pain in his ass. Somehow the damn kid had provoked him enough that Sukuna had, accidentally, mentioned you.

And of course, the brat had run to Gojo Satoru before Sukuna could force him to silence.

And now here they were. Forcing themselves inside your last resting place. It felt so wrong. A feeling Sukuna wasn't used to and hated.

- “My, my! Look at that door!” exclaimed Gojo, a big smile plastered on his face.

- “Senseï, what door?” asked Nobara, pointing at the rock slab against the ground. “That's just a big rock.”

Sukuna felt anger rise inside him. How dare she, a worm, judge it? He could remember you whining about your family's luxurious tomb and how you hated it. You just wanted a humble grave. Nothing fancier than a commoner would get. He didn't understand at first, because you deserved so much more than a hole in the ground.

‘At last, no one shall find and disturb me.’ you had told him.

And it was true until now. Could he really let those rats desecrate your tomb?

- “ Yeah, doesn't look like it. The guy was apparently humble enough to refuse to be buried with the rest of his family.” replied Gojo, cracking his fingers. “I call bullshit. Pretty sure by opening it, we will find one or more of Sukuna's fingers.”

- “Why?” the question came from Megumi who stared at the tomb.

- “Why? But because he was a traitor of course!” exclaimed Gojo, chuckling.

For a second, Sukuna only saw red.

The next, his fist hit Gojo Satoru right on the jaw, sending the sorcerer flying back a couple of yards. By his side, both of Yuji's friends screamed the name of their senseï. And as fast as he got it, Sukuna lost control of his vessel's body.

- “Oh my God, Senseï! I'm so sorry!” Yuji's voice was disgustingly guilty.

Again, Sukuna didn't care. He just couldn't let that piece of shit talk badly about you. Not after everything you did for those fuckers you called friends or family.

Not when he could remember your last conversation together.

Your last request.

His faces rested against your naked chest, ear pressed hard to listen to your heartbeat. He wanted, no, needed to hear it one last time and memorize it. For this was the last time you two would be together. The next time, you would fight until one died.

The silence was heavy, and Sukuna savoured the feeling of your fingers playing with his hair and the heat of your body against his. Then, you had to talk.

- “Sukuna, I want you to kill me.”

- “What?”

- “You heard me right.” you chuckled, pulling his hair playfully. “Only one of us shall stand, the next time we met. And I do not want it to be me. I made my part, now I want to rest. I'm tired of fighting.” You slapped his shoulder before adding; “Imagine how much fear they will all have? They won't call you ‘King’ anymore, but God. Wouldn't you like it? It sounds so nice.”

It did sound nice. But only on paper, because the only thought of your lifeless body laying on the cold ground made him upset. Sukuna couldn't bare the thought.

-” Oi, are you listening to me?”

-”Yes.” he replied, his arms closing tighter around you.

Your hand stopped playing with his hair and came resting against the nape of his neck. He heard you sigh.

-”You do not like my idea, do you?”

-”I would rather have you by my side forever than lose you to the cold embrace of Death.” he said, lips moving against your skin. He felt you slap his shoulder again.

-”If I was a curse, I’ll make those legs my necklace!” you said, kicking his legs.

-”And if you were a curse, I’ll let you!” he chuckled, feeling you laugh.

-”As if!”

-”Oi! Are you calling me a liar?” he asked, falsely offended.

-” Well, I’m not calling you a truth-teller.”

At that, Sukuna smiled.

-”But, I am serious. I wish to die by your hand. Life without you will be boring. You are the only good fighting partner I have.”

-”Let’s make a deal. I’ll accept at one condition; if I’m vanquished first, eat my heart so I can be by your side until your last breath.”

-”And you eat mine if I die first.” you replied and Sukuna could swore he heard your smirk in your voice.

-”You got yourself a deal.”

-”You know... The sound of your legs as a necklace sound pretty tempting.”

-”Shut up!”

And again, you laughed. At the moment, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

Gojo walked back to the group, his blindfold gone and blood dripping from his split lips. Yuki wouldn't shut up and kept saying he was sorry and asking his teacher if he was fine. The cruel and cold smile on the sorcerer's only told Sukuna that Gojo had all anticipated.

- “Ah! Don't worry Yuji. It only proves my point.” The blue eyes stared at the one Sukuna had opened. “So he really was your whore, huh?”

- “He was less a whore than you. Own many prostitutes did you whore yourself to? I'll bet more than you have hair on your head.” Sukuna barked, voice growling. If only he was truly in control!

- “Sorry!” said Yuji, slapping the demonic mouth.

After that, the group returned to the tomb. Again, Sukuna hated it. You just wanted to rest, be left alone. Now, he had to stand there, powerless, and let them do as they pleased.

A part of him also refused to see your remains.

His last memory of you was of your bloody body. Of the plead in your eyes as your lips mouthed ‘please’ and he mouthed back ‘I can’t. He had seen the chock, then the understanding in those beautiful eyes of yours.

Powerless, Sukuna could only watch them take the rock slab away. With one look to the inside, pure joy filled him and Sukuna burst laughing.

-”Senseï, what does it mean? Where’s the body?” asked Yuji as he jumped in the hole, grabbing the only thing the tomb held. “What is that?”

The kid showed the object; one big monstrous heart carved in black stone and fused to it, another heart, but human.

- “Troubles. A lot of it.” said Gojo, grave, his eyes on Sukuna's mouth and eye.

#JJK #sukuna x male reader #jjk x male reader #gojo satoru #x male reader #male reader #jujutsu kaisen #My Nocturnal Serenade

978 notes · View notes