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seeingivy · 4 months

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french toast

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: enabled by @babiemay thank her for giving me the BIGGEST best friends older brother sukuna brain rot i've ever had in my life. (ooc sukuna again btw)

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

based on the seventeen years that sukuna has known you, he figures that you’ve already worked up some type of overthinking storm in your head when you arrive at his apartment two days later. and he knows for a fact that he’s right, because you’re at his doorstep with a pinched look on your face, clutching your purse like you’re about to get robbed.

“hi pretty girl. did someone make an attempt on your life today?”

you can feel your cheeks burning at the term of endearment, so phased you can barely coherently respond - or understand - what it is he said.

“no?” you respond, nearly sweating under his eye contact as he smiles.

“then why are you looking at me like you think i’m going to eat you?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for you to walk into the kitchen.

you feel your head run in a spiral, at the implication of his words, as he places his hands flat on your shoulders, and guides you to sit at the stool on his little kitchen island. the entire ordeal - the breakfast, the fact that he’s peeling off your coat and pressing a kiss to your temple, and the lingering touches - they make your skin burn, almost itch with nervousness.

he stands on the other side of the counter, leaning forward on his forearms, as he smiles at you. and you try your best to figure out what exactly it is that’s beaming in his eyes as he leans forward.

“pick your poison.”

you feel yourself pale.

“huh?”

he frowns, as he leans back.

“for breakfast? what did you want to eat?” he clarifies.

you breathe a sigh of relief.

“anything’s okay. don’t trouble yourself. i-i can even help.”

you walk over to his side, pulling up your sleeves and giving him a peachy smile, as he takes the opportunity to step towards you. your back hits the counter and sukuna makes it a point - resting both of his arms at your sides - as he traps you within his hold.

“talk.” he states, almost sternly.

“hm?”

sukuna leans closer, leaning his forehead against yours, as he takes a deep breath. it reminds you vividly, of two nights ago, when he pulled you straight onto his lap. and murmured into your skin that you were his pretty girl. and that he was going to prove it to you.

“talk.” he states, the tone in his voice irritated.

you look up at him, at his eyes razor focused in on yours, and spot no inclination of irritation on his face. despite the fact that you were almost positive that it was dripping from his tone. though, you always found him particularly hard to read.

“now.” he murmurs.

you sigh.

“what are you trying to do right now?” you ask.

he rolls his eyes. there’s the irritation you were hearing.

“make you breakfast.” he deadpans.

“is that all?”

“what are you getting at?” he asks.

sukuna often finds that talking to you is like digging a hole. that it takes patience. because he’s not going to find what he’s looking for forthright. but he knows for a fact that there’s something down there.

it’s aggravating. but he persists.

“promise you won’t make fun?” you ask.

“i will do no such thing.”

“sukuna.” you whine, crossing your hands against your chest.

sukuna finds this part of you endearing. because it reminds him of all the different ways he’s seen you. when you were four and barging into his house to play wii with his little brother, explaining barbie movies at the dinner table, and tagging along on his family vacation when he was fourteen.

and how after all this time, you still have the same tendencies. you bounce your right leg when you’re nervous, tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re finished rambling, and curl your hands into little fists and cross your arms - entirely unable to meet his eyes - when you’re embarrassed.

sukuna clears his throat, as you look up at him. and you know the expression all too well. that he’ll wait all day if he has to.

“no making fun. i’m serious, sukuna.”

“it’s almost like you know you’re going to say something stupid.”

“don’t call my feelings stupid.” you murmur.

“well, i’ll keep calling them stupid until you tell me what they are. i’ll be honest if you let me.”

this is something you can appreciate about sukuna. that he won’t beat around the bush. or say things just to coddle. it’s the same as the other night, where you told him about what happened at the bar, when he didn’t rush to your defense like almost everyone else does. and when it comes to this, you figure that he’ll be straightforward.

“are you trying to have sex with me right now?” you ask.

you look at sukuna, specifically at the way his eyes widen, before he breaks out into a laugh. and not just any laugh, because he’s nearly keeling over with how amusing he finds it. howling even. and it makes even more blood rush to your cheeks, humiliated for even bringing it up.

sukuna grins, lifting his hands up from the sides of the counter and wrapping them around your neck.you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, as you instinctively shut your eyes. he’s going to be straightforward.

“your feelings are stupid.” he whispers, right into your skin.

you pull back, staring at him dumbfounded, as he places one of his hands on your waist. and he’s staring back at you, the expression in his face slightly amused.

“that’s not nice.”

“i’m not a nice person.”

it’s frustrating. the tone that he uses with you. it teeters between placating and teasing you and you find it hard to decide which one exactly it is. and it seeps right under your skin, lets your irritation come to a head faster than it usually would.

“okay, well. sue me! you had no problems doing god knows what in my room the other day. and-and then you were making jokes about how you were going to eat me. the second that i got here. and-and you know how you are-”

“and what’s that?”

you pause.

“what?”

“you said you know how you are. well, i don’t. enlighten me please.” he clarifies.

sukuna’s pleased with himself. because he’s figured out exactly what it is, that’s brewing in that head of yours. and naturally, he has every intention to make you mince your words.

“you-”

you’re not sure how to say this. if there’s a polite way to call him what he is.

“i’m what? a manwhore?” he asks.

“no! you-”

“you think i’m a horny freak, right? that i want to lift you up, take your skirt off, and have you right here on my kitchen counter?”

you feel your eyes go wide, as you swallow hard, and feel the nervousness take residence in your stomach. sukuna senses it fast enough and makes his efforts to diffuse it.

“do you think i would only invite you here because i want you to please me? do you think that’s the only way i can enjoy your company?”

you can feel yourself getting too overstimulated, your head nearly steaming - at the implication, at the way he’s looking at you, and the fact that his lips are a few feet away from yours - and his smug grin crawling underneath your skin and making you twitch.

you cover your face with your hands, feeling the warmth on your palms, as you feel his hands curl around your wrists, prying them off of your face. and when you look up at him, at the soft smile on his face, as you can’t help but frown at him.

“no…”

sukuna smiles.

“are you lying to me?”

you deflate.

“maybe a little.”

sukuna secures his hands around your waist, before fully lifting you up and placing you on the counter. and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before he wordlessly starts rummaging through different cabinets in his kitchen and the fridge, fully intent on making you the breakfast you were promised.

you can’t help but watch him, as he muses around his kitchen, slicing vegetables on the cutting board and fruits on the side. at how he entirely discards the conversation you just had like it was nothing.

from two feet away, sukuna is very, very appreciative of you. because you’re not very proud. and despite your first attempts, you’re honest too. because he knows for a fact that your hesitation to state your thoughts is because you don’t want to write sukuna off as something so…lewd. even if you think it’s true. and that of course, any hesitation on your part comes from something deeper than him.

the deep seated distaste you seem to have for yourself. though sukuna’s entirely unsure why it’s there in the first place. he slices a strawberry in half, letting the eggs cook at his side, before he makes a residence standing in between your legs.

he hands you one of the halves of the strawberry, before popping the other in his mouth and leaning into your space.

“i don’t think you’re a manwhore.” you clarify.

“okay. i don’t think you’re one either.” he responds.

you smile.

“but you do think that’s the only reason you’re here?” he pokes.

“no! no, i don’t think that. i just-”

you sigh, placing your hands flat on the fabric of his hoodie, as you crumple it into your fists.

“sorry. i’m not very good at this type of thing. and-and you’re like…you know. reputation. and you obviously have needs! and megumi thinks you’re a womanizer.”

sukuna snickers, as you release his hoodie, and you deflate slightly. mainly at the fact that he’s not offended. and letting you ramble - and say ten different things you shouldn’t - openly.

sukuna doesn’t shy away from what exactly it is that you think of him. or what that godawful sea urchin megumi thinks either. because it’s naturally, quite simple. and somewhat true. because he finds it hard to stay in one place for a long time. and as you very keenly put it, he had needs.

though, that rule, as sukuna was painstakingly reminded of, didn’t apply to you. because again, you transcended any normal guideline that sukuna had. which is why he was keen on making you breakfast two days later, on his day off. and make your favorite, which he specifically remembers from the camping trip.

“i’m not sure what thing you’re referencing. and make no mistake. i don’t talk in tongues like you do. if i invite you over for breakfast, it’s because i want to eat breakfast with you.” he responds.

“you were the one who said you were going to eat me.” you defend.

“you were looking at me like you were scared of me. like how prey looks at a predator before it gets eaten?”

“oh.”

sukuna pushes off the counter as he starts plating the food onto and feels his ego inflate when you jump off the counter and cling to his arm when you realize what exactly it is that he made.

“sukuna. i love french toast!”

“yes. i’m well aware.”

"how'd you know?" you ask.

sukuna looks over at you, the look in his eyes so devious, that you know you've certainly walked into something by stating it.

"you told us. on the camping trip. you've always been my pretty girl. even when you were fourteen."

you barely have time to even stomach what it is that he said as he lifts both plates as he makes a gesture for you to follow, seating the two of you back on his kitchen island. and when you settle in, sukuna gets to pick at your mind, with the questions that have been stuck in his head for the past two days.

“before i divulge my manwhore adventures for you, you have to indulge me first. how many guys have you dated? or talked to?” sukuna asks.

you hate sukuna’s choice of words sometimes. indulge. it’s almost like he knows he’s saying words that make you nervous. that make the sweat accumulate on the palms of your hands.

“where’d you learn how to make french toast like this?” you ask, deflecting.

“i asked first.”

you swirl the eggs around on the plate - moving them from the left, to the right, and back to the left - before you answer.

“i had a crush on this guy named dean from sixth grade to eighth grade. all of the boys in school got dared to slow dance with different girls and he picked me. it was an awkward four minutes of halo by beyonce but i loved him after that. he was funny. and cute.”

“did you date?” he asks.

“oh, of course not. he started liking this girl named kimi in eighth grade.”

sukuna’s not exactly sure if this is the question he asked. but you keep going. and it’s intriguing to him nonetheless.

“in my sophomore year of highschool, i had a crush on this guy named parker. he was kind of nerdy, like the stupid type? my english teacher would always put us in group projects together, and when i asked him why, he said it was because he wanted us to get married.”

“that’s an appropriate thing to say to a fifteen year old.” sukuna bites.

“no! my teacher had this dream to go to two of his students weddings, that met in his class.”

“and what killed that extremely inapprorpiate dream, dead in its tracks?”

“my best friend. we all somehow ended up in the same friends group our junior year. and they kind of started flirting. dated all the way till our freshman year of college.” you respond.

sukuna curbs the question that comes to the forefront of his mind. because it occurs to him that his plausible answer to it, one that he despises, is exactly what’s going to be the answer. that if they liked each other, you were going to let them. despite the fact that you liked him first.

“any more for me?” sukuna asks.

“my first boyfriend was in my senior year of highschool.”

sukuna feigns shock, as you fight the urge to laugh.

“have we finally arrived to a real boyfriend?”

you laugh, as you settle your hand into his underneath the table. there’s something so inviting about him, the way he’s hanging off the ends of your words and listening intently, that makes you continue.

“we don’t speak his name.” you state.

“oh?”

“he’s not a good guy. we dated until….my freshman year of college. december. and we officially stopped talking the summer of my sophomore year.” you state.

sukuna bites the urge to ask every question in his mind. on who this guy is, why you continued to talk to him almost an entire year after, and most importantly, why you haven’t talked to anyone else since.

except for him anyways. for the first time, sukuna finds himself being the exception. in a way that’s favorable to him.

“that’s all of them! your turn.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s all?”

“mhm! it’s kind of boring, i’m assuming. in comparison to you.”

sukuna concludes one thing. that all three of these men, especially the last, were not deserving of you. in the slightest. and that each one had wrecked a sizeable amount of havoc. he curses himself for not paying attention when he was still there.

“oh definitely. you’d need to stay here all day if you wanted to here that.”

you smile brightly.

“that can be arranged.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward, lips a few feet away from yours, before he speaks again.

“you like to play hard to get, don’t you?” sukuna asks.

“what? what do you mean?”

sukuna places his hands on the rung of your chair, before pulling it flesh with his own. and he tests the waters, by placing his hand on your bare knee, right near the pleats of your black skirt. and he feels you instinctively press your legs together, but make no moves to push him off.

“i didn’t make the list?”

you swallow hard, entirely embarrassed. though, your first real crush you supposed is naturally the one that you’ve denied, vehemently, since you were four years old and yuuji asked you in passing.

because when your eyes lingered on him for too long, after he fixed the wii controls and dutifully handed you both your controllers back - of his wii, that he was letting you play on - yuuji halfmindedly asked the question.

why are you looking at him like that? do you like him or something?

it was a joke, of course. because yuuji just asked so he could start the match of wii tennis while you weren’t paying attention. that in the rush of it, you never got to consider the answer to it in full. though you suppose there’s no better time to answer it than now.

“i have this best friend. his name is yuuji.” you start.

sukuna’s alarmed. so alarmed that he pulls his hand off of your thigh, retreating it behind his back.

surely you didn’t really like yuuji. because that would stop whatever it was that was blooming right now. because he was not his brother, despite their identical pink hair. the farthest thing from it actually.

“i met him when i was four. and i barged into his house because he wanted me to play wii with him. you see, his big brother didn’t really like to play with him so he figured that i was the next best thing.” you state.

“he had greasy hands. so did you. it was disgusting.” he states.

“and yuuji didn’t know how to turn on the game. or-or remember which one it was in. so he called his very cool, much older brother, to help us. i’d never met a six year old before, and naturally if i had, i wouldn’t have thought he was so cool.”

“shut up.”

sukuna desperately wants you to continue.

“seemed like the real serious type. kind of quiet. dark blue shirt, black shorts. the socks that only go to your ankles. i didn’t even know that his name was sukuna until a few days later, when he walked with us to school. he didn’t even introduce himself to me.”

“did you want to know him that badly?”

“and he fixed the remote, obviously. had some six year knowledge we didn’t clearly. and-and he turned to me. gave me a smile before he handed one to me and walked away.” you state, shrugging at him.

sukuna’s satiated with your answer. mostly because, it seems you seem to remember the ordeal in as excruticating detail as he has. that you were wearing a pink dress, gold earrings, and a ribbon in your hair. that your skin was the softest he had ever felt, that you were the first girl who had brushed fingers with him when he handed you the remote, save for his mom of course

sukuna brings his hand back into your hair, feeling the fabric of the blue ribbon in your hair today, matching with the short cardigan that you were wearing. and he wants to keep this one too. yank it out of your hair and secure it to his keys next to the pink one he refused to return.

sukuna looks down at the fabric, at your hair sprawled over your shoulder. he can make out the length of your collarbone from underneath your tanktop and settles his lips right into divot, before pressing a lingering kiss into your skin and feeling you keel over in his arms.

“france.” he murmurs, right into your skin.

“what’s that?” you ask, dazed from the contact.

“i learned to make the french toast in france.”

he kisses up the length of your neck, making no inclination to stop even as you barely stutter your words out. and for the second time, can't resist and places his hands on your waist just to pull you straight on top of him.

"makes sense. that's just-just toast for them." you mumble.

sukuna can't help but laugh. he's never going to tire of you.

next part linked here

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siriuslovebot · 9 months

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˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ➸ 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: slytherin!reader x sirius enemies to lovers possibly? thanks love!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), enemies to lovers, mean/condescending sirius, lots of teasing and arguing, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, petnames (doll, pet), explicit sex scenes, etc.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader and sirius are always at odds. after earning a detention, they decide to sneak to the kitchens at night and get sidetracked.

𝑨/𝑵: ugh i'm such a slut for enemies to lovers with sirius eeeeek. i had had had to write this! btw sorry for going mia for a few days; work has been exhausting me :( i'm gonna work on some requests tomorrow since i'm off and hopefully that can hold you all over until i have more time. also, to clarify, my smut posts are for 18+ audiences only! i will be blocking minors who interact with my smut posts. as always, this is unedited, so sorry for any errors/typos! hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.7k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

“you bloody prat!” the foul words leave your mouth before you have a chance to stop them, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. immediately, your gaze finds the figure of professor slughorn at the head of the classroom. his eyes are wide, set in a surprised expression as he looks over you.

“miss y/n,” he says, in a rather mild voice for his looming presence.

you flush, skin burning. the entirety of the class watches you, fists clenched around a handful of wormwood as it crumbles. beside you, there’s a self-satisfied smirk on sirius black’s face. he’s got a smear of flobberworm mucous over his sleeve, where he’s just emptied his entire container into your cauldron, effectively rendering your sleeping draught entirely useless.

“i’m sorry, professor,” you say. in an effort to placate him, you glance at sirius and sigh in exasperation. “sirius just– bumped into me, and knocked all of this flobberworm mucous into my cauldron. promise it won’t happen again.” you cut your eyes at the elder black brother, his expression slightly bemused at your sudden change of tone. there’s no need snitching to professor slughorn; you’ll get sirius back, and it’ll be far worse than any detention with the head of your house.

“very well,” says professor slughorn. he’s taken your bait, and you’re glad for it. “mr. black, i’m sure you won’t mind miss y/n assisting you, since her potion is now–” he peers over your shoulder, having lumbered over to your table. his lips curl up into a grimace “--ruined, yes, quite awfully. sharing is caring, after all.”

sirius grunts as professor slughorn slaps him on the back like an old chum. your features curl up into a sneer, your eyes glowing with retribution. sirius huffs a quiet, “yes, professor.”

he glares at your shit-eating grin as you settle yourself beside him. his own potion doesn’t look much better than yours; he’s clearly been focused on making your life a living hell rather than on his potion-making, and it shows. “this looks shit,” you say, making a face at him.

“‘course it does,” he says, sourly, “dumped all my flobber mucous into your potion, didn’t i?”

“serves you right, you dirty, conniving little–”

sirius cuts you off with a snort, “ugh, y/n, if you want to fuck me so badly just say that.” his sarcastic words send a jolt through you, your stomach bubbling with rage.

“in your dreams, sirius,” you spit, knocking your shoulder into his with enough force to make his stool wobble. professor slughorn is none the wiser, gloating over lily evans’s potion across the room.

sirius grumbles under his breath, tapping his wand mindlessly against the cauldron in any effort to help his quickly deteriorating potion. after a moment he says, “help me out here, will you? it’s your bloody potion, too.”

“i’d rather die,” you say dramatically, lifting your chin haughtily as you distract yourself by scratching a star into the tabletop with your fingernail. the fury radiating off of him is enough to satisfy you for now; he’s swearing under his breath, dumping odds and ends into the cauldron in a futile attempt to save his mark for the day. you prod the inside of your cheek with your tongue, trying not to smile at his frustration. karma, karma, karma. you can only hope he’ll have to endure extra credit hours in slughorn’s office, listening to all the stories of his talented old students. you couldn’t imagine a more boring saturday night.

“stupid, fuckin’ thing, what am i doing wrong?” sirius says quietly, startling you with a particularly hard thump of his wand against the cauldron. you glance inside, the mixture having congealed into something nasty and grey. you wrinkle your nose.

“everything, by the looks of it,” you say. you answer his tight-lipped expression with a sickeningly sweet smile and a bat of your eyelashes. you’re sure he’s starting to rethink his choice to ruin your potion this morning.

“shut up,” he hisses, a particularly foul emphasis on the words. if looks could kill, the daggers he stares into you would be piercing straight through your heart. you almost want to goad him even further, provoke him into a reaction that will be enough to get him in trouble with dumbledore himself, but you know better. you’re very good at playing the long game.

thus begins your blood-thirsty rivalry with sirius black. of course, neither of you were particularly fond of the other in the first place; you supposed it was his hatred of slytherins. he approached you as if you were some scum-of-the-earth, less-than-human creature, solely because of the house you were placed in. funny coming from someone whose little brother shared the same house. from your first interaction, you decided you could be exactly who he envisioned you to be, and you made it your mission to do so.

at first, the incidents are easily passed off as “accidental.” sirius charming your quills to pelt you in the head, aiming for your eyes. you muttering a particularly difficult to reverse rendition of, “engorgio skullus,” that put him in the hospital wing for a week whilst madam pomfrey tried to shrink his head back to its regular size (though, in your opinion, it wasn’t much bigger than normal.) you began to map your paths through the corridors, purposely avoiding the places in which you knew sirius would be present. he grew very fond of casting non-verbal tripping jinxes, sending you and all of your belongings sprawling through the halls. similarly, when you found him pestering remus in the library, you were quick to employ the oppugno jinx, sending a spattering of books barreling towards him.

you earned a detention from madam pince for that one, but it was well-worth it when you saw sirius’s battered appearance the next morning. the antics go on and on, until you’re both at odds to the point where the entire school is invested in who’s going to one-up the other depending on the day. you hear james and remus making bets on it as you pass the gryffindors on your way to herbology one day; you can’t help but smirk as remus bets on you. you always knew he was a smart man.

after a horribly timed jelly-legs jinx from sirius, you wobble into the slytherin common room to get ready for bed. your muscles ache, as your legs collapsed beneath you just as you were at the top of a staircase. toppling down the stones, you were too busy screeching in anger to notice the almost worried look on sirius’s face at his handiwork. he’d even bounded down the stairs, muttering a half apology before you hissed, “flipendo,” and sent him crumbling into the staircase himself. as you passed his crumpled frame, groaning in pain, you were pleased to see a sheepish james handing over another galleon to remus.

you wince as you finally make it down the passage, stopping for a second to rest your burning limbs. regulus reclines on one of the sofas, feet kicked up as he flicks through an old book. his eyes find yours briefly, flashing with mirth.

“what are you looking at?” you breathe, putting pressure on an especially sore rib. a sharp pain causes you to frown, doubling over for a second.

“y’look like hell,” says regulus.

you roll your eyes. “you know what–” you take a sharp breath at another pain. “--i get enough shit from your git of a brother. don’t you start on me, too.” you point a finger at him, wagging it.

he laughs, dropping the newspaper onto his stomach. he clasps his hands over it, cocking his head as he eyes you carefully. there’s a wicked little grin on his chiseled, handsome face. his intelligent eyes scheme for a moment, thoughts crossing through them to the point where you can practically see the gears turning.

“what?” you repeat, impatient with his conspicuous contemplation. he’s clearly dying to speak his mind, and you’re sure you won’t make it another two minutes standing in the common room before your legs give out completely. you’re dying to get into bed.

“i was just thinking,” regulus contemplates, smug as he leans up on his elbows.

“didn’t know you could manage that,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. if nothing else, regulus is as dramatic, if not more, than his brother.

he wrinkles his nose.

“go on,” you urge. “i’m dying to know what you’re thinking, reg.”

he smiles, the curve of his lips meant to be placating in spite of his words. “how long are you and sirius going to play cat-and-mouse before you give up the act and admit you want each other?”

“i hope you’re joking,” you say flippantly. you turn immediately from his lazing figure, marching towards the girls’ dorms.

“deny it all you want,” he calls from behind you. “everyone knows!”

you find your dorm, luckily empty, and slam the door behind you. your neck and ears burn, as you suddenly feel quite embarrassed. there’s no way sirius likes you, and you certainly don’t have any feelings for him; other than hate, annoyance, and frustration, that is. yes, you’d like to throttle the eldest of the black brothers, and you’re sure you would get a great deal of pleasure from it. but want, lust, affection? regulus has officially lost his mind.

you seethe as you get ready for bed, a dozen reminders of sirius as you ache all over with each movement. hate certainly brews a certain sort of passion within a person, but you’d march into the forbidden forest wandless, robeless, and blindfolded before you had a single warm thought for sirius black.

you’re still fuming as you nestle yourself beneath the duvet. and as awful as it is to admit, your last thought before you sink into slumber is of that stupidly handsome, haughty face that you think you hate so much.

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“not like that, you dumb–”

“please, sirius!” you retort, frustrated with the dark-haired young man sitting beside you. he’s genuinely dancing on your last good nerve, offering a snarky comment for your every movement today. “just shut up.”

somehow, you’ve been sat beside him in transfiguration. professor mcgonagall had the ever-so-lovely idea to come up with a new seating chart, placing you and sirius at a table together. you’re moments away from throttling him and being sent to azkaban for murder.

“i’m trying to help you, here,” he says, shrugging. “do it wrong, then, if y’want. i couldn’t care less.”

“oh, you’re so good at it, are you?” you stare at him, a sour look on your face. today’s lesson was supposed to be easy (according to professor mcgonagall), and you were having an impossibly hard time as it was one of your first lessons on human transfiguration. you had yet to be successful in any of the other human transfiguration lessons, either. sirius’s nagging presence wasn’t doing anything to help.

“seeing as i’ve been doing it for the last half an hour, i would think so.”

“well, show me, then, you bloody genius,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest. you blink at him, waiting for his enormous display of intelligence.

“so easy,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “i mean, ‘s not like you’re turning yourself into a bleeding dragon or something…”

“i’m just growing my hair by magic,” you say, hot under the collar with frustration. “not everyone’s mr. perfect like you.”

sirius rolls his eyes. you watch him for another second, trying not to look impressed as he does exactly that. his dark hair grows longer before your eyes, sweeping down over his collarbones and skirting just above his elbows.

“okay, show-off,” you mutter, turning away with a frown on your face. “an inch is the requirement.”

he chuckles, smug. “‘s all right,” he says, reaching to tug on a strand of your hair, rather harshly. you gasp at the sting, swatting his hand away with a blush on your face. you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “maybe we can do it manually.” he pulls on another strand over your hand.

“sirius,” you whine, grasping his wrist to stop him. your heart thumps wildly at the look on his face, a pleased smile on his lips. he’s apparently enjoying teasing you. maybe a little too much. “that hurts.”

“aw,” he says, his voice mocking as he feigns pity. “poor baby. hurts, does it?” the condescending tone in his voice has a pit growing in your stomach, your heart sinking into it by the second. he dodges your grasp. there’s another pull on your hair. he raises his eyebrows at the whimper that comes from your lips as you shove him.

“can– can you— stop it, you shit,” there’s a flash of hands as you and sirius battle it out, him reaching over to pester you some more as you block him as best as you can. truthfully, you’re embarrassed that him teasing you is stirring your insides, exciting you in a way that is very wrong. plus, you refuse to let regulus be right. you’d rather have a slap-fight with sirius in the middle of class then let him make you crumble at his taunting actions.

you wince as he jerks your hair again, this time hard enough to make tears prick your eyes. you respond with a sharp SMACK against his forearm, which rings through the room not unlike a gunshot. there’s a split second of complete silence, as mcgonagall is comprehending your misbehaviors.

“miss y/n, mr. black,” she says, voice strict. “ten points from gryffindor, and slytherin. see me after class.” she peers at the two of you over her spectacles, meaning business. you sink into your seat, chastised. sirius nods, pressing his lips together as he settles back into his own place.

“nice one, dumbass,” he says quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“i told you to stop a dozen times.”

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“bleeding candelabras... my fingers are going to fall off,” you complain. it’s well past midnight, filch having finally decided that you and sirius had sufficiently completed your detention. after a miserable few hours, crouched in his office polishing the silver, the two of you are finally free to go.

“tell me about it,” sirius yawns, shaking his head. “don’t think m’hands will ever be the same.” he holds his palms out in front of him, wrinkling his nose at the cracked skin.

“gross,” you peer at his dry hands. “it’s those muggle chemicals he insists on using. much safer to use magic if you ask me.”

sirius chuckles, “poor guy wants us all to know how hard it is to be a suffering squib.”

you laugh despite yourself, then shake your head. “i hope mcgonagall’s not expecting us to go back tomorrow night. don’t think i can miss dinner again.” you clutch at your stomach. “‘m starving.”

“let’s sneak into the kitchens,” sirius suggests.

you look at him as if his head’s fallen off his shoulders. “are you out of your mind?”

“oh, c’mon. james and i have done it plenty of times. the house elves aren’t going to tell anyone.”

“we’re in enough trouble as it is, sirius,” you say firmly.

“suit yourself,” he stretches his arms over his head, turning on his heel. you watch him pad down the hall, his shirt lifted slightly to reveal his lower back as he stretches. you swallow hard, averting your eyes as your hands go a bit clammy. he rolls his neck side-to-side as he lowers his arms.

you think about it for a second, then you call, “wait–wait for me.” it takes more than a few strides for you to catch up, and then you’re slinking downstairs with him, headed for the kitchens. a midnight snack couldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“knew you couldn’t resist,” he says, voice teasing.

you roll your eyes.

there’s a certain thrill to stalking the castle’s corridors at night. you’re not sure if it's the adrenaline or the repeated image of sirius’s bare skin burned into your mind that has your pulse hammering endlessly. a giddiness employs itself in your stomach, churning as you follow him on the familiar path down to the kitchens; it’s clear that he’s been out after hours plenty of times. he knows the place like the back of his hand, barely batting an eye as he leads you through the corridors.

“are you sure we won’t be caught?” you whisper, voice hardly audible through the sound of your own heart.

“we’ll be fine,” sirius says, confident. “don’t you trust me?” he quirks a slender eyebrow at you. his grey eyes have a dark cast in the low light, only the shine of a few candles illuminating his features. you shrug, your mouth dry as he grins at you.

“i–i mean, sure,” you say, half-hearted. his laugh is low, gravelly. accompanied with his tired voice, it’s enough to make you swoon.

“right, then,” he says, “we’re nearly there.”

you’re close to your destination when sirius stops in his tracks. you nearly trip over him, grasping his arm for balance as he stops, listening.

“what?” you tug at his sleeve. “what is it?”

“shut up,” he mutters, seeming much more like his normal self. “someone’s coming.” his eyes scan the corridor ahead of you, then he spins around, shoving you towards a door a few feet away.

“what–where are we?”

he’s shoving you into a dark room, pulling the door closed very gently behind him. a heavy-sounding lock clicks into place. you push past him, hands finding the door as you place your ear against the heavy wood. you hold your breath as you listen for footsteps outside the door.

the room is very small; your feet shuffle to find somewhere to stand, through piles of junk on the floor. sirius does the same, crowding in behind you to listen along at the door. you try to ignore the heat in your stomach as he presses his body against your back in the small space. it’s the only way he can eavesdrop at the door alongside you. at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

you’re both dead quiet, your hands shaking as you listen. the footsteps echo closer and closer, and stop. you bite down on your lip, trying to pay attention. however, sirius’s lithe frame pressed against you is proving to be a great distraction. you feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes calmly. he’s pressed against you, solid and unmoving. the heat radiating from his body is lighting your skin on fire; sweat prickles your skin.

“scared?” he whispers, voice barely perceptible.

“no,” you lie. you hope he doesn’t know the true root of your fear; the sinking possibility that he could find out just how much you’re enjoying this. how much you’ve been dying to be this close to him for the last few weeks.

“liar,” he mutters. he’s still listening. “it’s mcgonagall out there,” he says.

“how can you tell?” you ask. the darkness has heightened your other senses, but you’re not as observant nor perceptive as he is. at least not with him pushing you against the wall like this.

“dunno, the cadence of her footsteps or something. remus can probably explain it better than i can. i just know.”

“you just know,” you say simply.

“mhmm,” he hums in agreement. “i just know a lot of things.”

“like what?”

there’s a second of loaded, thick silence. the air is thick enough that you swear you can feel it wrapping around you, suffocating you.

“like how much you’re enjoying this.”

“what?!” your voice is more of a hiss than a whisper, and he shushes you gently.

“careful, pet,” he says, “want mcgonagall to find us like this?”

“we’re not doing anything,” you say, embarrassed.

he chuckles darkly. “not yet.”

sirius presses closer to you, his body pinning yours against the door. a gasp escapes you, your mouth hanging open as his hand finds your chin, lifting your face towards his. “such a pretty noise, doll,” he says. you can hardly see him, but you can imagine the look on his face from his tone. his eyes dark, lips quirked in a pleased expression, eyelids hooded.

“sirius,” you say, though it sounds more pleading than you intended.

“gonna start begging for me already?” there’s that laugh again, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core.

you’re burning up, embarrassed that you’re so needy already. you shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are, enjoying your least-favorite person pinning you against the wall in an old supply closet. not to mention your professor stalking the hall just outside the door. your head spins.

“shut up,” you mumble, though you don’t mean it. you squirm, taking a breath as you feel his length pressed against you from behind. he sucks air in through clenched teeth at the feeling. his face dips down to meet yours, his lips catching yours in an open-mouthed kiss. he licks into your mouth, your tongues uniting messily in the middle. there’s a clash of teeth, a grunted noise from him, and strings of saliva as he pulls away for breath before he’s diving back in. you relish in the obscene sensation, the messiest, wettest kiss you’ve ever been privy to. you’re enjoying every second of it, however naughty it may be.

your stomach flutters, enjoying the sharp dig of his other hand gripping your hip. another soft noise from you, into his mouth. he groans, his long fingers still holding your face in place. he pulls away, lips swollen and chin coated with saliva. he trails wet kisses down your jawline, biting at the tender skin of your neck. you rock back against him, your core throbbing as he muffles a low noise in the back of his throat.

“fuck,” he slurs, breathing heavily already. “you don’t know how bad i want to fuck that smart fucking mouth…” he whispers, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. “shut you up for once…”

you’re throbbing at his words, aching so bad that you’d get on your knees and beg him just to touch you. you’d do it yourself, even, if only he’d talk you through it. but sirius has other plans, clearly as desperate as you are.

“please,” the soft croak of your voice has him grinning at you. you can faintly see the outline of his wolfish smile, his hazy eyes as he looks at you.

“no time right now, pet,” he grinds his hips against you, still fully clothed. his bulge is rock-hard against your ass. he’s grunting softly, running his hands up and down your body. his fingers grasp your breasts, roughly squeezing through the material of your shirt. “wish i could take my time with you… it’ll have to wait.”

“just do something,” you mutter, growing impatient at the ache between your legs. you can feel your panties, soaked and sticking to your center with your arousal.

“use your manners, you fucking brat,” he snarks, nipping at your earlobe.

you squeak, and he stiffens for a second. his hand slides up, wrapping around your throat. “and shut up. how many times have i got to say it?”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you whisper. the footsteps don’t come any closer. you wonder if mcgonagall is even out there at all, but your mind slips back to sirius as you feel him dragging the waistband of your trousers down.

“keep that pretty mouth shut, pet, or i’ll shut it for you,” he warns.

you nod. you’ll do anything he says just to have him buried inside of you. you need it so bad, your entire body begging for his touch. you brace yourself, spreading your legs to allow him access as his hand delves between your legs from behind. his fingers drag through your slit, slow, spreading your juices.

he takes a deep breath, burying his face into your neck. he’s smiling against your skin. “that pretty cunt’s just dripping f’me,” he says softly, the contrast of his filthy words and gentle tone making your head spin. “wish i could make you scream and cry for me…”

you barely register his words, flinching as he prods a finger at your entrance. he swirls it at your swollen hole, enjoying the way you jerk against him, sensitive. you bite down on your bottom lip, hard. your eyes are half-hooded, struggling to stay open as he teases you. he pushes your legs further apart, then his hand is gone. you hear the clink of his belt buckle, feel him adjusting his position behind you.

tears of pleasure prick your eyes as he sinks into you; you want to cry out, the sound threatening to rip from your chest at the slightest movement from him. he feels your whole body tense, his hold on your throat tightening. “not–” he pulls out briefly, before burying his cock to the hilt inside of you again “--a fucking sound.”

you nod, “yes, yes sir,” you breathe, as quietly as you can manage. you take trembling breaths, trying to contain yourself at the mind blowing drag of his swollen cockhead against your walls. his pace is slow, but forceful.

his every movement is making your body tick closer to release. his thrusts are steady, wet noises squelching through the room as your juices drip down your legs. your legs are weak already, but his body pinning yours against the door is enough to keep you upright as you claw at the wood in front of you. he squeezes your throat just enough to cut off the sounds that you can’t help. his other hand finds your stomach, palm pressing into the flesh to feel the bulge of his cock buried deep inside of you.

“god–” you breathe, throwing your head back. “can’t take it much longer…”

he makes a noise, half laugh and half moan. his voice is condescending as he says, “gonna come f’me already? pathetic little pet…” his hips rut into yours with increased force; you wince at the sudden sound of soaked slapping skin, the noises cutting through the quiet broom cupboard like a knife.

“s–slow down, sirius,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as the feeling becomes overwhelming. you slump against him, head lolling back onto his shoulder. “someone’ll hear us.”

his hips snap into yours, sharper. “won’t hear anything if you’d just listen,” he says, his voice sharp. “how many times do i need to tell you to be quiet?” his fingers snake up from your neck, two of them sliding between your swollen lips. you moan around them, your jaw going slack.

he’s hitting the perfect spot inside of you, your vision going fuzzy as he forces you to the brink of orgasm. he doesn’t even have to touch your clit, having gotten you so worked up that he can just hammer into your g-spot and drive you over the edge. he hums his approval, dragging his teeth along your collarbone as you dissolve into moans and whimpers around his fingers. you drool around his long digits, teasing the back of your throat. you gag around them, your saliva leaking down his wrist.

“there’s m’good li’l pet, being so quiet for me,” he praises in that mean voice. you clench forcefully around him, your entire body overtaken by waves of pleasure that send your knees crumpling completely. a gravelly moan comes from him, the repeated tightening of your walls pushing him over the edge. the feeling of him coming inside of you sends renewed waves of ecstasy through your body, your mind going blank as you lose yourself in the feeling. your mind can’t conjure a single thought except him, his hands all over you, his teeth grazing and marking your skin, his cock rearranging your insides.

“sirius,” you gasp, appreciating the strength of his grip on you as he helps you regain your footing. he plants a kiss against a dark spot on your neck as he holds you upright. there’s a second where the two of you catch your breath, the quiet overwhelming after the overload of emotions you just experienced. he pulls out of you, and you whimper softly at the emptiness. you struggle to adjust your trousers, smartening yourself.

“i wasn’t too mean, was i?” he brushes a sweat-soaked strand of hair from your forehead.

you smile gently, shaking your head. “you’ve been much meaner, trust me.”

he laughs. “seems like i’ve fucked the attitude out of you.”

“watch yourself, black.”

“right,” he nods, looking a bit flustered at the sharp look on your face. then, he says, “still up for sneaking into the kitchens?

#sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #marauders era fic #marauders smut #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #smut #slb.works

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darlingeto · 5 months

Text

gojo satoru and his half ironic half bashful romantic gestures.

he’s gone quiet while you’re yapping about some dumbass thing someone did to you, his eyes hazy with gentle adoration as he resting his squished cheek onto his hand, lips pursed in a certain pout as their default resting form.

you notice how the himbo in love look he’s sporting probably means he wasn’t listening so you ask with a cocked brow.

“..earth to the chosen one..hello?”

and in the most damsel in love tone he says with a small chuckle.

“sometimes i think you’re edible, you’re so pretty, like cotton candy..”

after the initial baffle washes out you poke him on the forehead and he giggles while taking your hand into his large 2+1 apartment of a hand and softly kisses at your palm numerous times.

sleepy satoru is basically a domesticated fox.

his responses have a short range of biting for no, making a certain “mhm!” while nodding eagerly for, well all other stances and flat out ignoring you and nuzzling his face somewhere on your body, preferably chest.

if he’s laying his head on you and you try to move to go to the toilet, the man traps your thigh with his own fully wrapping his long limbs around your leg. you tap his shoulder a few times matching it with a short groan of his name “sa-to-ru..i need to go badly..” he grumbles in his own, set of sounds, before biting at your cheek softly and kissing your face all over after. then as if he hadn’t even registered your words he nuzzles his face at your neck and within minutes he’s fallen asleep.

whenever you two are sleeping and you even remotely move or shift, his arm you’ve rested your head upon will enclose around your back and rather tightly press you onto his chest and its always followed by some barely understandable “what..baby it’s okay..what is it..” and you definitely know he’s asleep by the way he’s drooling at the corner of his mouth. and he talks in his sleep if he’s had too much sugar during the day, you hear it all, from “finder’s keeper” to some extremely soft whisper of “baby i got you, you’re okay..” usually this will bring a deep upturned furrow to his eyebrows and his hands squeezing the parts of your flesh closest to grab.

btw more..ahem..content below.

he goes to town at any given moment, tired? might as well have you sit on his face while you basically fuck yourself on his tongue. if he’s trying to make a point, usually after you go overboard with insults you yell to his face and his smug demeanor breaks, since he doesn’t exactly engage you in vocal arguments, he will put you in a vulnerable position such as a deep arch to your back with your bum up and your face onto the pillows. will slap the hell out of your most sensitive parts and his entire goal is to get you to squirt but will warn you not to make a sound if you’d like to have enough voice to speak tomorrow. however that’s rare because eating you out is “the reason he was brought in the world.” in his words while he’s drunk off of your taste, so if satoru is anything he is going to war for that pussy. but one thing is certain, if the man will have you on his tongue he must and i mean gojo satoru (30) whines if you don’t let him hold both of your hands, and must have your fingers tightly intertwined as he holds you in the place at the edge of the bed he pulled you to, the only time he allows for your interlocked hands to detach is if he uses a hand to fist his dick as he more often than not will finish when he eats you out.

he most definitely loves something flamboyant but effortlessly so, like pressing his chest to your back and speaking lowly in a huffy tone about how you’re ruining the sheets followed by a whiny “what a bad little girl..” while his lower body pistons his dick into you at a scary pace.

i will most likely add more to this post like its a goddamn journal. but the brainrot will never end until the war does, give me my spouse back gege akutami he was your golden character.

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk season 2 #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #pussydrunksatoru

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borrelia · 7 months

Text

frontiers dlc cutscene simulator:

amy: we CANT let ANYONE DOWN!! sonic and the koco are COUNTING ON US i'll do ANYTHING to protect them!!! i love everyone so much im gonna BREAK SOMETHING!!

knuckles: grr i love to hit things. i love to dig in the dirt. i love to punch things WITH MY FISTS! and break things WITH MY FISTS! aww is poor widdwe sonic tired? aww too bad you have to do your little platforming boohoo Grow Up. tails, kid, you are doing amazing no notes. amy. would you like to break some things with me. with my FISTS 👊💪💪👊💥💪💥💥👊

tails: uwa i don't know if i can do this... but i have to.. but i dont know if i can.. everyone is counting on me im the Most Important guy here.. sonic don't worry about me i can handle myself. also did you know that these islands have incredible capacity to harness emerald power. by my calculations 🤓 i've hacked the mainframe.

eggman: mmyes. sonics stupid friend and his girl friend and his very scary little fox friend and also sonic. can you even appreciate that some of the set dressing on this island used to be a highway powered by emerald energy harnessed by ancient spaceships which btw are buried underground so you cant see them but theyre there. i wish i had a spaceship. i could do so much evil with that kind of power.

sonic: yooooo sup amy. tails. things are getting pretty rough, you doing alright? you are both so cool, i know youre gonna do amazing things💗. hey Treasure Hunter. seems like im better at finding the emeralds than you, Treasure Hunter. HA! eat my dust--im gonna go fall off that tower 20 more times. btw i wonder whats up with this building. can someone real quick explain what it does in 5 paragraphs or more?

sage: we are running out of time. you must find the emeralds or we will have success rate of zero percent. but since you asked. this building was a facility designed to stockpile or store grain. In the grain trade, the term "grain elevator" also describes a tower containing a bucket elevator or a pneumatic conveyor, which scoops up grain from a lower level and deposits it in a silo or other storage facility. In most cases, the term "grain elevator" also describes the entire elevator complex, including receiving and testing offices, weighbridges, and storage facilities. It may also mean organizations that operate or control several individual elevators, in different locations. i would also like to drop some casual race science into this conversation. do not worry about it.

#myaa #sonic frontiers spoilers #btw the race science hing is 'one tribe of these people was The Smartest'#which is. A Choice #anyway this post brought to you by me finishing my cutscenes and getting like 3 knuckles ones in a row where he refers to his FISTS!!!#long post

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zinzinina · 2 years

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okay I'm not sure I'd you're still doing the uh. thing where you write a scene from a different pov but if you are and have time/interest, would you feel like doing poe pov with that part in directions where he asks how many other guys she's been with? I love love love that fic so much btw and I'm gonna go through your masterlist when I get off work <3

Hello! ✨ A little confession: some of these have been sitting in my inbox for months. I secretly didn't plan on fulfilling this request because it meant that I'd need to go re-read Directions, and I very rarely read my own writing again once it's been posted. But I was in the mood for something fun and easy, and then I actually had a great time revisiting this story! So thank you so so much @buckyisdisabled, @lostinwonderland314, @mandaloriandin and sweet Yearning Human anon for asking for this and for your lovely messages. I really hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it x

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: PIV, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, squirting, feelings, implied cum eating, overstimulation, masturbation, friends to lovers

This is reworking of a scene from this fic, told from Poe’s POV.

from a certain point of view ask game ✨

———

Poe sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, and her taste hits his head like spice; sharp and sweet.

She pants up at him from his pillow (his pillow) her eyes wide as a nervous animal’s, her hands curled into fists. It takes everything he has not to blow his load in his pants right then and there.

He feels a little drunk. He needs to course-correct.

Drastically.

He’d meant it when he told her he thought this would be fun. Because everything is, with her. He thought she’d be giving him shit the whole time. He’d expected her to be unimpressed with him in the way only she ever is; doing what she does best and keeping his feet nailed to solid ground even while his head did tailspins around the sound of her laughing at him.

But she’s not laughing at him. The way she’s looking up at him…

This, right here, is extremely fucking serious for her.

Maybe he should’ve tried to make this nicer. Maybe he should’ve lit candles.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, he catches himself remembering a particularly fucked up day from several months back. His comms and tracking had both shorted out after a hit in the middle of an above-planet dogfight with no visual, and for about two hours, the Resistance network listed him PKIA.

When he’d eventually landed back in the hanger, it was chaotic with smoking, twisted astromech parts. Unbeknownst to him, Black One was a ghost ship.

Mechanics and pilots alike had turned and gaped in silent shock as he’d climbed out of his cockpit, and he’d only had a moment to wonder whether there was something growing out of the top of his head before he’d been knocked off his feet by a sobbing projectile stinking of sweat and smoke in an oil-stained flightsuit.

She’d only stopped crying after socking him in the chest, her voice hoarse as she told him how much of an idiot he was for not switching over to his backup signal.

He’d never wanted to see that look on her face ever again, and if he hadn’t pushed her into verbalising the source of her terror here, he’d be too turned off to go any further. He doesn’t go in for that shit; he wants his partners relaxed and comfortable and enthusiastically willing.

But it’s knowing what she’s actually worrying about—stuck in her head as always, thinking about everyone else; what he thinks of her, rather than focusing on how she feels—that makes him determined to stick with her, as long as she says.

He’s staggered by the amount of trust she’s putting in him. Shit, he doesn’t know whether it makes his heart ache more, or his dick. Like she has anything to be nervous about. Like she isn’t the prettiest fucking girl he knows. Like making her smile isn’t the single greatest source of pride he gets to hold over himself.

Doesn’t she know? Can’t she already fucking tell? He’d worship the ground she walks on if he knew she wouldn’t laugh herself sick at him if he tried.

It would be funny, if it weren’t so painful. That for all of her quick, sharp perception, she’d miss this, so entirely.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he says softly, and he can see how little she believes him. “Told you. Nothing wrong with you. I wanna try something,” he continues, before she can say anything to piss him off. He can handle her putting shit on him. He isn’t letting her do it to herself. “You’ll like it, I promise. And if you don’t just tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, nodding, her eyes still huge. A sudden throb of affection makes his head feel like it’s filled with tibanna gas.

“I’m gonna take your pants off,” he tells her, grasping each of her ankles to do exactly this.

She lifts her ass toward him as he wriggles her underwear and pants over her legs, giving him a brief glimpse of the most beautiful view he’s ever seen in his life.

His brain’s still catching up when he sees the furtive way her eyes keep flicking down toward where it feels like his dick’s trying to bust through his fly.

“Don’t you want…?”

“It’s not about me,” he cuts her off. And if you touch me right now I won’t make it, and I’ll ruin my reputation, and kill any chance of living any of this shit down with you ever again, he decides not to add.

He bends, spreading her legs with both hands. Her clit’s so swollen her labia are parted around it, the soft skin inside her thighs smeared with her first orgasm.

Her first orgasm—the first one another person’s given her, anyway—and it’s his.

And, oh, it had been so easy.

His ego is not immune to this.

But, nice as it is, it doesn’t quite feel like a boost in the traditional sense. It feels something more like a twinge, hard and new, right under his ribcage. Like vindication, maybe, or—and he feels like a fucking moron for even thinking it—fate.

He bows from the waist and nudges into her with his nose, his tongue laving a stripe up the entire length of her pussy.

Her skin tastes like soap. Somewhere in the dimmest corners of his head he’s annoyed at this; imagines her scouring every inch of herself raw in the showers before coming to him, filled with nerves and doubt under the spray. He presses the muscle of his tongue into her opening in search of more of the her he’d found on his fingers.

The sound she makes zips lightning-hot straight to his guts.

His eyes roll briefly closed, and he sinks down onto his elbows, the twisted line of the sheets digging into his skin under his weight.

She shifts her thighs together, her fingers twitching at her side. He steals a glance up and finds her watching him, her lips parted, her eyes too-bright.

“Open your legs,” he encourages, his lips barely lifting from her skin. She sinks her teeth into her lip as she lets her knees fall flat to the bed.

She’s spread out open in front of him, and he dips his head to continue.

She flinches and tenses and exhales in turn, reacting to every touch of his mouth as though speaking aloud. It makes him feel violently impatient, and so he moves slower, trying to temper himself.

He wants to be inside her.

He wants to swallow her, and to be swallowed by her. Fuck, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

He’s pretty sure he’s leaking precum into his pants; all the blood having long vacated his brain to swell bruise-achingly hard in his cock. He tries to stay focused, but the reality is that Poe’s thoughts ran away from him the second she set foot in his room. The challenge now is to just try not to do something stupid.

Something stupider than fucking his best friend.

She hisses, tossing her head back, her legs twitching so hard his tongue nearly loses its place against the hot nub of her clit.

He slides both hands beneath her thighs to lift her hips to his face in an attempt to keep her still, barely managing to tamp down the urge to rut helplessly against the mattress in search of relief.

The smell of her, the taste, fills his senses. But it’s still not enough. He wants to bring her to insensibility; to work that softness into the bed, glutting himself until her whimpers turn to those of overstimulation.

He’d never really considered himself a possessive person, but as she quietly sucks in a sharp, shallow breath, he realises he wants that sound all to himself.

He pulls it out of her with his tongue again, and again, his attention unwavering.

He wants her thinking of this, of him, from now on. Every single time she comes, alone or otherwise. He wants her to dream about him inside her; tongue, fingers, cock, he doesn’t give a fuck. At briefings. At meals. Waiting around bored for launch clearance in her fighter, standing alone in the showers, when someone else presses their hands to her skin, and lifts her chin to meet her lips (and fuck, that hurts to think about, like hitting realspace at-speed, hard enough to grind his bones together).

She comes with a pained-sounding cry, her pubic bone bumping into his nose and pushing his face away. He drags himself up and finds her reaching her hands out as though to stop him.

“You okay?” he manages.

“Poe, I want…please…”

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He leans up, bracing himself over her. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s had enough and she’s going to tell him to stop, to give her back her pants, to never mention any of this again.

It’s still more than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

Her eyes stay on his and she blinks slowly at him, as though trying to remember who he is. His heart thunks hollowly in his chest, and he waits.

“Fuck me.”

He pauses. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. His already-painful cock jumps in his pants at the demand. “You need a break first?”

She answers by trying to drag him down toward her, her hips lifting to press against him, ankles hooked around the backs of his legs.

He doesn’t wait to be told twice. He shifts his weight, kicking his pants down, settling himself between her legs.

She ducks her chin and kisses his shoulder.

His head swims. He barely feels the touch of her lips through the material of his shirt, but it hardly matters. The gesture is so small, so careful, so quick, as though she couldn’t help herself.

As though it’s something she’s thought of before.

Which is when it hits him: the one thing he’s never seriously let himself entertain. Does he…actually have a chance?

Without undue vanity, Poe knows that his looks are the one area, at least, that he can afford not to worry about. He’s not an idiot. He knows exactly how people respond when he flashes his teeth at them, or holds their eyes with his own for a protracted moment from beneath a quirked eyebrow.

But never her. She’s somehow always been frustratingly, crushingly immune to every single weapon in his arsenal. It had been a source of ire in the early days, while he was still learning the colour of her voice, and the shape of her mind.

The sadder, slower ache of acceptance had come later; gathering like thunderheads, lingering long.

She wasn’t for him. She didn’t want to be. Letting himself pretend otherwise would have only ever been an exercise in masochism.

Despite all of this, Poe’s still human. And, as he had come to realise, knowing something intellectually is very different to knowing it physically.

Whenever she smiles at him, and bumps into him, and rolls her eyes at him. Whenever he’s inside somebody else, tasting the sweat on their skin, or stretched out around their pleasure. Whenever he jerks his cock alone in his bunk late at night, ashamed and furious at himself for such a disgraceful breach of their friendship, for the things he’s imagined.

Everything he’s ever done with anybody else; every filthy, beautiful fucking thing, he’d turn himself inside out and crawl over hot coals to do again with her, to her, for her, if she wanted.

And now, here she is.

He might not ever get another shot at this.

He needs to make it count.

“How many other guys’ve you been with?” he says, his voice coming out rough. She looks mortified, but he doesn’t care. “How many?”

“S-six,” she says.

He nods. He’d already known about Kip and Terrett, and he’d had his suspicions about Rau and Valen. He’s a little disappointed at the knowledge that Rau had let her down with all the others; he wouldn’t have expected it.

“Then that’s six other times we gotta make up for,” he says, distractedly.

He presses forward, and the first millimetre he sinks inside her already has him panicking.

She immediately feels far too hot and close, but the hardest part, the part threatening to undo everything, is the way she’s looking up at him, as though silently pleading with him, and Gods, how she doesn’t need to.

“Oh, sh...shit. You good? I’m good. That’s…ungh, so fucking good.” He’s aware he’s making no sense, but that’s the only thing left in his head, probably the only thing he’ll ever know again: good, good, good.

Her fingers are clenched tight around his forearm, and he thinks she might be holding her breath, but then she lets it go, and the wet bloom of her cunt swallows him fractionally deeper.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he groans, hoping he doesn’t sound as wrecked as he feels, his guts on fire with need.

She squirms under him, and fuck, she feels incredible. After coming twice he can feel the evidence of how wet she is, the smooth glide of her body gripping close around him, giving way slowly.

It’s suddenly too fucking hot in his room. He can feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck and around his ears, and it’s vaguely annoying, but he couldn’t give a shit.

Her warm breath meets his chin, and he follows the line of her attention down the length of his own body, to the place where his hips are flush against hers. Between her parted legs he can see his cock half-sunk inside her, and his face presses to her damp, salty skin as he murmurs to her, pressing forward, enveloped entirely by her.

He has no idea what he’s saying. It just feels important for her to know.

Whatever it is, he never gets the chance to find out.

Because then she’s kissing him, and her mouth is on his and her lips are parting and they’re soft and her teeth are catching at the dry ege of his lower lip and her breath is hot and it’s hers and it’s in his mouth and it’s in his lungs and it’s oxygenating his fucking blood and pumping through his heart and his brain and searing through every single part of him until she’s all that’s left.

He’s pretty sure he’s dying.

“Holy fuck,” he thinks he’s trying to say, and he feels her smiling, gently biting into his lip, keeping him quiet.

She rolls her hips up against his, pushing herself off the bed. He can feel himself rapidly losing control as she throws her head back, her brows drawn, teeth cutting into her own lip.

“Baby, wait, wait a sec,” he pants.

“What’s wrong?” she gasps, and of course she doesn’t listen; she never fucking listens to him, rocking up toward him, making him see stars.

“Just…fuck, hang on.” Cold showers, he thinks, grimly. Freezing cold showers, and depressurised-cockpit earaches. Nine hour-long diplomatic debriefs. The rancid-smelling mucus trail Klaud leaves behind everywhere he goes.

“Is this…not good?” she says, low and weak. “Poe?”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as she whispers his name, and the sound jolts through him—her voice, the one he knows so well—like this, with him.

Whatever pitiful electricity’s still left in the meat of his brain fizzles out. “Oh shit, say my name again,” he begs, not even waiting for her to do so.

He’s already moving, needing to feel the walls of her cunt stroking and sucking at his cock. “D’you know how many times I’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this? And I never, ever thought you’d wanna…”

He shouldn’t be saying this. He’s gotta be real fucking careful, if he doesn’t want to accidentally tell her every shameful daydream he’s ever had about her and disintegrate what’s left of their friendship into dust.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he tells her instead. “Your pussy is perfect.”

She recoils, and it’s equal parts adorable and infuriating that even now she’d be embarrassed to hear him say this.

He almost laughs. “Why’s that make you shy? You don’t like me talking about your pussy? You wanna know how good you taste, baby? You’re sweet, so sweet and tight and—” and fuck, he can still taste her on his lips, and he watches her carefully, finding the place that makes her fall boneless and focusing there, right there, until the viselike grip on his arms weakens and she’s coming again.

Her voice breaks, but he doesn’t slow. She can take it.

He pushes her hips down, fucking her into the mattress, skin clapping on skin. She’s yanking at his hair hard enough to hurt, but he relishes the pain because it keeps his vision clear; exactly where he wants to be.

Her orgasm tumbles into another, and he seizes her knees, lifting her toward him as he picks up his pace. She moans, belatedly trying to cover the sound with her hand, and it’s the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He is never, ever going to be able to get that sound out of his head again.

“Hey, hey. Let me hear that,” he says, leaning closer, dragging her hand away. “Don’t you cover that up. Come on, baby, I wanna hear you.” She presses her lips together, and he huffs, driving himself into her just a little harder than strictly necessary.

He’s rewarded with a weak, throaty whimper, and he grins at her. “That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he confesses.

Her nipples stand through the thin, sweat-sheer fabric of her tank top, her softness rippling upwards with every stroke. He watches her body greedily, wanting more, wanting everything all at once.

He wants, very badly, to lick her again, all the way from her neck to her sweet, trembling cunt. He can still taste her on his tongue as he presses his fingers down to her clit, just above the place where he’s still pumping in and out of her.

She cries out, coming again until she’s melting wet into the bed.

He still doesn’t slow, but his thoughts have run away from him and all of a sudden he realises it’s too late, far too late to stop himself.

He wants her full of his cum, until he’s emptied out all of the ache of himself into her, and her pretty, swollen cunt’s overfull with him until he dribbles out from between her lips and onto his fingers, making a mess of the sheets so he can start all over again.

Right at the precipice of his climax, she opens her eyes and looks up at him. There are tears of overstimulation clinging to her eyelashes, and her fingers are clutching gently at the back of his shirt.

Nobody has ever laid me down as low as you, he thinks, surprised at the strength of his emotion, willing her to understand.

But then he’s coming so hard his limbs go numb, and he isn’t thinking anything anymore.

He presses himself deep, deep inside, shaking violently as she swallows every pulse of his orgasm. His heart is thunderous in his ears, his muscles liquefied. He slumps, panting.

If she objects to the deadweight of his body over hers, she doesn’t say anything. He stays there, smothering her, trying to regain his breath, until he can feel her beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath him.

“Was that…okay?” she says, ridiculously, like his soul didn’t just leave his body.

He doesn’t even bother responding to the question. “You’re crazy,” he muses instead. “She’s crazy.”

He’s lifting himself off her when his chain swings from the neck of his shirt, clocking her between the eyes. “Oh, shit,” he says, as she gasps in pain. “Sorry, baby.” He presses his fingers to the spot, feeling guilty. “Normally I’d’ve taken that off.”

He’s usually far more thoughtful than this when he has company, but this time he hadn’t unclipped his necklace, or changed his clothes or sheets. The thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. Because she doesn't feel like—has never felt like—a guest in his bed. In fact, her absences have only ever felt like temporary discomforts to be endured until her return.

She’s scowling at him, her nose wrinkled up like a Weequay’s, and it’s so fucking cute he wants to kiss her again. “Why didn’t you?” she says.

She needs to ask? “Because it’s you.”

As he crawls back down between her legs, he finds a spectacular mess of cum and sweat and the evidence of her orgasms on the sheets, and fuck, it’s soaking down here. He wonders whether she even realises what she’s done.

He’s disappointed he didn’t get to watch. He’s sure he can get her to do it again, though.

She blinks down at him, her eyes glassy. “What are you doing?”

His mouth waters watching the way her wet skin shines and he feels an answering twitch in his recently-softened cock. “Cleaning you up. We’re not done yet.”

Her eyes widen, but whatever she does next, he misses it.

He’s preoccupied.

Just tagging a couple of the lovely people who commented on the original and might be interested in this, absolutely no pressure of course! x

@saradika @oscarseyebrow @the-little-ewok @bacarasbabe @writeforfandoms @hardc0rehaylz @moonlight-prose @lcvenderblues @onfiretakemehigher @littlemousedroid @viceofdionysus @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @ifimayhaveaword @millllenniawrites @liamakorn @lilhawkeye3 @grumpymuffinmama @dailyreverie @mandelirious

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #from a certain point of view ask game #poe dameron smut #star wars smut #poe dameron fanfic #star wars fanfic

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monstrouslyobsessed · 1 year

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Concept : Reader is a shrine priestess and have a crush on the shrine priest. But he is so powerful that people made a contract with the snake demon. They let him eat the priest in exchange for not attacking the village. The priest tried to fight the snake, but he was defeated. The villagers cut off his arms, so the snake can eat him better. Reader tried to save him, but was locked away in the shrine. But the priest cursed the village and his fused with the snake making him a snake monster he killed all the villagers and cut off six arms to replace those he lost. And now he can claim his sweet shrine maiden all for himself. (Sorry if its quite long and detailed, do as you wish) Thanks! —anonymous

—a/n: alright, i’ll bite and do this one with my own take, but please add the source behind such suggestions next time lol this one is originally from the compilation manga ive read forever ago, Hachishaku Hachiwa Keraku Meguri (TW!!! under-age, noncon, horror, extremely dead dove!!!), specifically the 4th story. i…don’t recommend reading every story btw, some of them are very…yikes, but the 4th one is pretty good if you can get past a certain issue (namely, the mc’s vague age range). the main difference is that the monster is a woman and mc’s a guy.

if you want my personal recs, stick with reading 3rd (the statues, is okay), 4th (6-armed snake lady, fave if only because of the monster’s beautiful design and backstory but wished the mc would be someone older), and 5th (swamp-worm monster in the forest, warning, pregnancy/birthing is involved, is okay) story and ignore the rest. 2nd (the monster on the road) is okay, actually, but i hated the monster’s creepy old man design lol rest is just a big fat no to me for various reasons.

anyway….i rambled enough. i think…i might actually keep this character, even if he isn't entirely original and is (almost) literally the genderbent version from the manga. i actually envisioned him with dark-colored skin though. hm, so the setting might even be different! i’ll let yall decide~enjoy!

—tw / tags: gn reader, horror, gore, violence, imprisonment, neglect, implied multiple deaths, amputations, general yandere themes, sfw…ish

—featured character(s): 6-armed snake-god / cursed priest

You can hear the screaming in your ears, the horrible gut-wrenching shrieks heralding the arrival of death. The earth rumbled distantly beneath your feet, striking unspeakable fear in your cold veins, pounding your heart, and your empty stomach twisting with nausea. You shuddered and your voice came out weak, dehydrated, “N-no…”

Raking your throbbing nails down the wood, bloody raw from scratching and pounding on the chained door, you fell to your knees and bowed your head. You’ve warned them, that the demon would not accept the trade—or that the priest wouldn’t retaliate in some way. A choke erupted from your dusty throat at the vision of the priest you cherished so, so much flashed within your mind.

His warming smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, had transformed into something wrathful and malicious. His expression became one that spoke of murder, of dark, malevolent intent, as the hateful village men severed his arms and fed him into the yawning mouth of the snake-god. It wasn’t his cruel fate that had broken your heart and shattered it into pieces though.

The very moment before he disappeared into the slicked depth of the demon’s belly, the priest saw you and wore a horrified face. With blood tears running down his eyes, he interrupted his furious cursing with a soft whisper of your name. You remembered screaming through your tears and fighting against the fisted hands of burly men then, when the snake-god folded its mouth shut and swallowed him whole.

That was the last you’d seen of him and wept his name as the men dragged you from the forest clearing, satisfied that you were too weak to save the one they all feared.

He shouldn’t have died fearing for you.

As they’d thrown you into the dilapidated shrine, you were numbed with fury and sorrow and shouted that the demon would hunger for their flesh once more, that the priest had cursed them all, when they slammed the door shut and leave you for the dead. Your pleas and cries grew hoarse as you screamed your grief to the sky. There was no reply, only jeers from the village in the distance, as if laughing about your foolishness, that you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the priest.

Their cruelty was beyond your comprehension

You had no idea how long time had passed, there was no light in this rotting shrine, not even a single peek of any warm sunlight or the moon’s soft glow. There was no water, for your throat ran dry and your skin tightened on your bones, and there was no food as your stomach stopped rumbling some time ago. The villagers intended to let you die alone, pitifully and bitterly alone.

It could’ve been days, it could’ve been weeks, when you rose your head from the coarse ground, confused. Weakly, your hand reached towards the wooden door, and your calloused fingers traced around its edges, feeling along the rough surface and finding the raw marks you left behind, until they settled on a crook. Something familiar electrified the air, the sense of power pressed into your senses. You furrowed your brows—before fear sunk in your nerves once more.

The demon had returned to welt its hunger.

Screams followed and you remained in the shrine, with no more tears to shed. You couldn’t weep for the cruel men and your tongue was too dry for you to utter even a single prayer for the innocent children you once tended to. You bowed your head between your knees, but you were still alive.

You still knew fear, trembling with the desire to live.

Your hands were shaking wildly, but you forced them back into prayer as the screams continued unabated. The walls rattled with thunderous crashes. Louder and louder, until finally, after hours of agony, they stopped. Silence followed.

Only silence and the smell of blood, lingered. And an ominous feeling.

You slowly rose from your hunched position, your gaze fixed on the wooden door. The air had turned heavy with tension, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Something approached, quietly grinding the pebbles and dirt underfoot as it moved closer and closer.

Somehow, the walls started swaying and the sound of cracking timber reached your ears, rising above the deafening sounds of your heartbeats and your shuddering breathing. You clasped your hands into a prayer once more and begged the gods to answer, to spare you from the belly of the snake-god. Your prayers became desperate begging, for mercy.

As if in response to your prayer, the ceiling creaked and groaned and a low growl emanated from above. Your eyes widened, and you stumbled backward, barely catching yourself on a nearby pillar. The walls rumbled, and cracks began appearing along the floorboards.

Then, the light.

It cut into the pitch-black darkness you’d been trapped in for days and blinded you. Clasping your hands over your eyes, wincing in discomfort as if light burned you, something exploded overhead, shattering the roof tiles and raining tiny chunks onto your head. You flinched at the loud noise, shielding your face and ducking your head between your legs from any further danger.

As the crackling groan quietened, you remained still—half expecting the pain to cut into your skin and long teeth tearing into your brittle flesh. But, silence hangs thickly above into the air. As if in waiting for you to unveil your eyes to the world.

You hesitated, before slowly lifting your head, squinting and blinking against the light. When you adjusted to the brightness, you blinked and saw shadows. Shadows cast by a massive serpentine being coiling amidst the splinters and rocks littering the ground all around you, staring down at you with glowing golden eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat and you staggered forward, your arms reaching above your head, “—! You…you came back…?” Your words broke and dissolved into hiccupping sobs that shook your frail frame.

Long discolored arms distended from the being’s side, wrapping around you in a dangerous embrace. The priest’s pale face buried into the crook between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling into your dirt-caked hair and releasing a deep purr. Its body vibrated and you felt yourself being lifted from the ground. Your arms instinctively snaked themselves tighter around its thin neck, your cheek pressing against its strangely scaled skin, and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. “Don’t leave me…please don’t leave me again…” You cried, with rivers of tears falling down your cheeks.

Tears you thought were completely dried out.

This was not the priest you remembered, his ashen body protruding from the mouth of the dead-eyed snake-god, his grin jarring with a smile too large for his handsome face, and having a few arms too many stitched to his sides. But as his fiery golden eyes warmed and his touches overly gentle on your skin, you knew. This was the same man you loved, the very man who never ceased to cherish you and always looked for ways to make you smile on bad days. Even after all this time. Even when everything else changed, he remained steadfast, loving, and kind.

—though, only to you, as he held you as if you were the most precious jewel in his world. Despite his loving gaze, he was dressed in the blood and guts of those he’d gleefully slaughtered for their slights against him, glimmering on his eternally long tail in the moonlight. Yes, he gripped your tiny body tighter to his emaciated body, all he’ll ever need is you.

—end

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willowfolksong · 2 years

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Hi i just discovered your blog and your writing is so amazing and fluffy! I'm not sure if you're taking requests right now but if you do can i request a cute scenario where kageyama+hoshiumi and atsumu+hinata (not as couples btw they all have their own spouses) team up to dress their babies in their respective jerseys and organize a mini competion like see whose kid crawl faster or something like that lol. If that's too chaotic you can just do kageyama and hinata because i know they'd absolutely compete with their kids while their spouses are shaking their heads lovingly in the background 😂

MSBY Jackals against Adlers. Baby edition 🍼

- Atsumu Miya x Reader | Kageyama Tobio x Reader | Hoshiumi Kourai x Reader | Hinata Shoyo x Reader. Implied: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader | Kiyoomi Sakusa x Reader

Plot: The guys put their kids in a mini race against one anothers, in mini t-shirt versions of their teams.

- SFW

a/n: hiiiiii @leuyen2004 !!!! so sorry for the late response! I absolutely adored your request!!! One of the most wholesome ones I've ever gotten 🥺🥺🥺♥️ I hope you like it!!! and thank you much for your words, you're so sweet!!

Love,

Willow ☀️

(Requests are currently closed, but I'll let you know as soon as they open ☀️)

This is it. Finally, the most important and decisive match against the Addlers and the MSBY Jackals.

One that could change sport's history.

"Alright, let's do this!" Atsumu yells, and places his kid on the ground. The little toddler of only two years looks around, at the other babies that form a perfect — for now, at least— line, and then proceeds to stick his entire left fist on his mouth "No don't do that" Atsumu says, squatting down beside him "Don't eat your hand. It's match time!"

"That's because his teeth are coming out" Kageyama explains, looking smug. His own kid looks at him curiously, before leaning his little head full of dark hair against his leg, clearly in search of a quick nap "My son has all his teeth out already"

Hinata snorts and blows a raspberry at his former teammate, now on a rival team "What's your kid? A shark? That can't be!"

"Shut up you know nothing!" Kageyama yells.

"I literally have a little girl of my own! What are you talking about?" Hinata says, rolling his eyes and rocking his little girl back and forth "Right, princess?"

"Alright, let's do this!" Hoshiumi finally snaps, clapping his hands. His little girl on the ground looks ready to start crawling, and Hoshiumi actually has to stop her from starting to move "Or are you all really that scared of my girl?"

"Fine, fine" Atsumu nods "Come on!"

🍼 When Hoshiumi finally gives the signal, only his little girl moves. A small, little bolt of energy with a puff of white hair on top of her little head. She starts crawling forward with all her might, only to stop short, look back at his father, and automatically turn back around.

🍼 They all decide it's best to use something that can motivate the babies to crawl forward, and so go looking for their toys.

🍼 All the babies are, of course, dressed in miniature versions of their teams shirts.

🍼 Once the toys are in place, the parents get their kids in position again.

🍼 When Hoshiumi gives the signal this time, all the babies start moving forward, except Kageyama's boy, who's already sleeping against his father's leg.

🍼 "Hah! Your kid is so gonna lose!" Hinata screams, pointing at the sleeping toddler, and the clapping at his little girl "You go princess!"

🍼 "Shut up you stupid idiot!" Kageyama yells back, bending down "You're gonna wake him up!" then he gently picks up his kid, moving his head so it can rest on his shoulder "Hey, are you that tired? Maybe I should take you to your mom..."

🍼 Atsumu's boy suddenly stops in the middle of the mini race, and looks back at his father, just as Hoshiumi's girl had done before. Suddenly finding himself too far away from him, his eyes fill with tears and he starts crying uncontrollably.

🍼 Atsumu tries to encourage him to keep crawling forward, suddenly panicking a bit.

"Don't cry! Don't cry!" he says, slowly walking towards his kid.

"It doesn't counts if you help him move!" Hoshiumi tells him, keeping a close eye to his girl "Come on! Let's beat this guys!"

Atsumu kisses his little boy cheeks and ruffles his hair, trying to calm him down a bit "Come on, come on, please stop cryin'. Your mom will kill me if she sees you cryin'"

"Maybe he's hungry" Hinata pipes up, making Kageyama snort.

"Hey, go feed your kid or something"

🍼Both Hinata and Hoshiumi's girls are the only ones that keep pushing forward by then, on a clear intent to reach their favorite plushies, while both dads cheer them on excitedly, hoping to bring victory home for their team.

🍼 It's a close race, with Hinata's baby girl giggling as she moves, and Hoshiumi's daughter crawling forward with the same energy his father always has.

🍼 Then, when they're almost about to reach their respective toys, a side door opens, and both Ushijima and Kiyoomi emerge from it, making the toddlers stop short.

🍼 "What is this?" Ushijima asks, looking down at the babies, and then at the parents.

Kiyoomi makes a face behind him "You shouldn't let your kids crawl on the floor. What kind of parents are you?"

"Ignore them, baby girl!" Hoshiumi yells "Go get that teddy bear!"

🍼 But it's in vain, as both girls start crawling again, but this time towards the two men that just entered the room. Ushijima looks at them with the curiosity of someone who still doesn't has kids, while Kiyoomi slowly retreats back.

"I have a child too" he says, trying to keep his facemask in place "I shouldn't be getting near other kids, so I don't get their germs and infect mine"

"What the hell is your problem?" Kageyama angrily whispers "My child doesn't have any germs!"

🍼 Both babies end up being picked by Ushijima, and the race ends with no winners whatsoever.

"Babies are...interesting" Ushijima says, juggling one on each arm. "And this small t-shirts of our teams..."

"Aren't they so cute?" Atsumu asks, having finally managed to calm his baby "Mine is the cutest tho, of course. But still"

🍼 At the end, the mini match didn't had any winners, but it might have served to convince Ushijima to try and have his own child.

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trans-michael-shelley · 1 year

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my contribution for Mutuals Powerpoint Night!!!!!! @wherearetheplants @astralrunic @multi-lefaiye @cnnamonrolls @abouttogetshellshocked @approximately20eggs (this is @/nicola-writes' TMA sideblog btw for those confused).

anyway. one more thing under the cut :))) you should click i promise

hello jon apologies for the deception but i wanted to make sure you started reading, so i thought it best not to announce myself. now:

JURGEN LEITNER? STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING JURGIEN LEITNER? GOD DAMN FOOL BOOK COLLECTING DUST EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT AVATAR OF THE WHORE BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING JURGEN LEITNER

STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT JURGEIN LEITNER I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP BOOKS WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT JUST SET THEM LOOSE IS HE DEAD IS HE A BASTARD MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM NEVER SEEN HIS FACE AND I KNOW HE HAS THE WORLDS SHITTIEST BEARD GET AWAY FROM ME

if i wanted to get into heaven and god said jurgein leitners waiting inside i would piss on gods feet for the sole purpose of getting sent back down

if i have to deal with jurgen leitner speaking one word in person on voice in podcast not only will i close the tab i will delete my bookmark out of spite and have to rewatch the entire series again for the experience of being able to skip all the times when he is mentioned or alive

i dont even know why i hate him so much. he collects books but i am just mad because i am angy

he better have some fucked up backstory to explain this if hes just some rich shithead whose just a fan of creepypasta and wanted the irl version ill go ham

BETTER have had a book make him kill a man cuz if he didnt im going to make him

paypal.com/IFuckingHateJurgeinLeitner

episodes not even about him. vaguely mentioned what is supposed to maybe be his library and i lost it

where the fuck is jurgen leitner if hes still alive im going to so deeply wish he wasnt

crusty old man

ill punch leitner and his sad frail old man twig bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge meat fist and he will desintegrate until all thats left of him is one final book he kept on him at all times simply titled Now You Fucked Up in ancient yiddish

im not breathing im hyperventalating at this point

i hope theres a date given for when jurgen died or will die so i can make it a reminder on my phone

everyday once a year i will see it and do anything but pay respects to the man who had so many fucked up if true books

(congrats on experiencing both HELLO JON and the leitner rant now <3 youre in the fandom already)

#tma #the magnus archives #nico posts #mutual powerpoint night

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felix-of-all-trades · 1 year

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READ THIS REAL QUICK CUZ I NEED A SECOND OPINION!!!!

I'm trying to write a one-shot because I'm trying to get a feel for the characters, but I think I'm stuck or have writers block or SOMETHING. so I just need to post what I currently have so I can prove to myself that it's something that people would want to read.

It's in Neo Agent 3's perspective and I may or may not have inserted too much of myself into Neo but it's whatever, this is just practice writing. basically what happened was Neo and Octavio somehow got transported to ROTTMNT post movie by a few months(there are no spoilers for the movie here btw). and now they're trying to figure out how to get back but for now they're just having dinner. and a bit of angst. hope you enjoy! HERE WE GO!

“So… Do we tell them?” I turned off the translator, and looked at Octavio with anticipation. Me and Octavio were having a pretty normal dinner with our hosts, four mutant turtles, a mutant rat, and a human boy. We were all brainstorming ways on how to get Octavio and I home safely.

“About what, Neo? About how Inklings pushed Octos underground, About how I remixed my entire army’s brains?” Octavio was growing more and more annoyed at the conversation. Raph had offered more food, and when Me and Octavio declined, Mikey asked why not; After all, we hadn’t eaten very much already and there was enough for everyone to have thirds if we wanted. The reason why is… complicated? Heavy?

“... you might not want to explain, but I think I’m ready to talk about Kamabo co.” I looked at Octavio with as much confidence I could muster, but I knew Octavio could see right through me. I was still very much afraid.

“You wanna tell ‘em all that? Why?” Octavio looked at me with what I can only describe as concern. Even Octavio has no idea what happened in The Deepsea Metro. Agent 8 gave a brief rundown of what happened, how the old telephone wanted to create a new world, but never any specifics. I’ve only ever told him bits and pieces, nothing that would give away the entire story.

“Because they’re helping us. Because despite us being basically aliens from another dimension, they have taken us in and are taking care of us.” “So you feel like you owe it to them?”

“... not really… I kinda feel like I owe it to you.”

“What? Why?” I could sense Octavio was getting a bit confused.

“Because you’ve helped me so much, not just with the PTSD but with showing me everything good about the world. Yeah, I already had been living on the surface for a while before we met, but you gave me a sense of home. Like, no matter where I am, if you’re with me I feel safe.” I started to pet Chum, a nervous tic I developed soon after joining the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

“I… I see… but, you don’t have to tell me about the Kamabo co. stuff until you’re ready, you don’t owe it to me” Octavio put his hand on my shoulder, something he does whenever we’re having a heart to heart.

“But I am ready. I’ll probably start to cry a little but I’m ready!” That’s a lie, I’m already starting to cry. Octavio narrowed his eyes in worry,

“Alright, then go for it kid.” Octavio nodded. I looked up at him, and his face was comforting.

I turned the translator back on and looked back at the turtles. I coughed into my fist, trying to grab their attention because while Octavio and I were talking, Mikey and Leo went into their own conversation, with Raph and Donnie jumping in on certain topics. Splinter was still eating. With everyone now paying all (or most) attention to me, I got nervous. I've never been the greatest when there’s a lot of attention on me, but I tried holding steady. I took a deep breath as I allowed the memories to flood back.

“So… I won’t be speaking for Octavio, but the reason why I don’t eat a whole lot is because I’m used to it. I was raised, if you want to call it that, in an underground facility that wanted to take over and create a new world.” I looked at everyone for any sort of emotion, and when I looked at Octavio, he looked stern like he always does. Until I looked a little closer, then I saw the encouragement that was hiding under that grumpy face, hidden in his eyes. I don’t know how, but that filled me with more courage.

“The facility kept their employees in line by a type of brainwashing called sanitization. Everyone… “ I took a deep breath, I don’t know how I’m not breaking down yet. “Everyone in the facility got injected with sanitized ink which is supposed to do most of the brainwashing and keep the subject brainwashed. Then there was music that would continually play throughout the facility, and I’m not sure how but that also helped brainwash everyone.” Everyone had a little bit of discomfort on their face, with Splinter and Octavio showing the most, and Octavio had a little bit of anger and guilt hidden throughout his features. Was this bad? The tears were trying harder to spill from my eyes.

“We were all forced to be soldiers in these sorts of trials. The trials were for anyone who wanted to escape to the surface, and all were unsuccessful. Except for one, but this story isn’t about him. Throughout our whole lives we were forced to eat almost nothing and perform at 110%. There was no half-assing it when quite literally all of your muscles are in control of someone else. Another thing, when you’re sanitized, you're connected to a sort of hivemind. Everyone is sharing information all at once and somehow you’re still able to understand all of it.” I was holding themself now, somehow it made me feel better to hug myself. “I was constantly overwhelmed and unable to do anything about it.” The tears were falling now, I couldn't do anything about it so I looked down. Trying to look at anything that was easier to look at than faces.

“Some time after our leader was defeated, three people came to the underground with music. I don’t know how, but that song broke everyone free of the sanitization. All at once, everything was quiet, and I was able to see again. I was able to feel again. So then I escaped, and soon after that, I met Octavio. That’s… that’s the end of my story I think.” I looked up at everyone with a nervous smile.

“You really went through all of that?” Mikey was the first to speak up, and I nodded.

#splatoon 3 #octo expansion spoilers #splatoon 3 spoilers #neo agent 3 #dj octavio #rottmnt #mikey rottmnt #leo rottmnt #raph rottmnt #donnie rottmnt #rise mikey #rise leo #rise raph #rise donnie #rottmnt splinter #rise splinter #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rottmnt #aaa i dont know how to feel about my own writing

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dashielldeveron · 1 year

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Whew, okay this is a little embarrassing the length of this and commenting in the first place(I prefer being a silent appreciator of writing) but I'll get over myself for like 10 minutes.

Okay where do I start? Omg there's so much to talk about. But first off can I say I love the soulmate trope so so so so much. Like it activates the full on feral can I have some more sir part of my brain.(yes that exact meme) I came across this purely by accident digging into the aizawa x reader tag. Fav pairing with this man btw. But once I got acquainted with the overall story and the plot.

I blew through the entire first part of the story in an about an hour and a half. I may be a little late to the party but your writing is *chef kiss*. Ugh yes! The entire plot is amazing and the idea of a villan with a soulmate type quirk along with the later introduction of a villan with a sex pollen quirk for some drama. Like I was tearing into this hand over fist, giggling at the slow burn of it all. It's not over done and the pacing was perfect. When I was read the part about the reader choking up a flower. My eyes got so big, I even said out loud this fic has hanahaki too? Heck yeah! I'll admit I was touch disappointed when it wasn't an actual thing but I understood how Aizawa jumped to the conclusions about from soulmates to hanahaki being a real thing. Lol I got duped right along with him.

(Definitely sounds feasible in this soulmate AU and would love to see how you'd explore it, should it be something that you'd consider in the future)

The club scene? Oh my god. Someone get me a wheelchair because that moment with him being tipsy and let-me-teach-you. And just playing into being a dom and calling reader a brat. Crying.

And the paperwork mix up lol. Suprise! We've been married for 8 months now. That was so sweet when he admitted he already had the ring at home.

And what slow burn 38k fic is good without some spice? It was amazing. Better words are failing me at the moment. But I haven't seen anything better written in years.

All in all, I wanted to say thank you so much for writing this. Am I going back to read the other soulmate pairings, because I need more in my life? Yes, yes I am.

I'm sprinting not walking to read the rest lol.

But seriously if I could pop a little confetti cone through the screen, I would. Because you did that, you ate it all up and left no crumbs. And I am eternally grateful and excited to see more of your works. No matter what they may be. This will be my new brainrot for the weeks to come and will forever live in my head absolutely rent free.

oh my god. oh my god i need a minute. i just need a minute

*snatches up each piece of confetti to eat it* how are such kind people like you walking about on this bitch of an earth?????? your pointing out of details and being so generous made my heart fucken stop.

yeah idk if i'm gonna use hanahaki for real later? i am vaguely entertaining it for a character not committed to a route yet. here, i just wanted aizawa to freak the fuck out. fun fact: that hanahaki scene was the OG ending before i decided that aizawa and reader needed to suffer more :) and him teaching reader sexy things after teaching her school things????? i thought that would kill him :)

you are NOT late to the party; the fic isn't even done yet!!! there are at least three more routes (shinsou, dabi, and shigaraki) and a writer with a terrible uploading schedule!!!

thaaaaaaaank you so much for reading!!!!! xx.

#dash it all

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bolithesenate · 21 days

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Hulloooo!

For the ask game: 🥞🙊🌈🌠👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 and Purshee?

all the Purshee love! (i already answered the pancakes one previously, but i'll gladly take the other ones :D)

SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

Any sort of mistreatment of Archive material (╬▔皿▔)╯

perps are gonna catch these very tiny yellow fists so fast!!!

RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

Do not eat that fried vegetable of unidentifiable origin from that random moon's night market stall. You are incredibly allergic to something in it and it derails the entire mission.

SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

Canon timeline? That the Sith never resurfaced and the Jedi Order wasn't destroyed.

The AU in my mind where all is well and nothing hurts? That she didn't ever have to sleep again so she had double the time to read new and fascinating sources on random and obscure Force-user lore from across the galaxy

FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

lol okay, so I am going to put this under the cut because it's theoretically mild mud fic spoilers, but...

regarding her bio family:

her mother was a shili immigrant to Serenno. Purshee inherited her latent and underdeveloped Force-Sensitivity. Her mother realized what her daughter was quite early on and secretly requested the Jedi to take her to the Temple because her father, born and bred on Serenno itself, was all aboard the old Counts' witchunt against anything Force-sensitive. He didn't know about his wife's abilities until he died.

Her mother, whose name is Nebre btw, eventually leaves him after the birth of Purshee's younger siblings, a pair of Force-null twins. Purshee herself in the canon timeline has had zero contact to her family for her whole life. The only thing she has is a small copper amulet of the serennian Kika'lekki faith, which Nebre gave with her as a good luck charm.

regarding her lineage:

She's the first Padawan of Vima-Da-Boda and as such a member of Nomi Sunrider's extended lineage. She absolutely adores her Master and her Master loved her and when Vima's daughter was born, Purshee practically helped raise the baby.

Sadly, Neema (Vima's daugther) eventually developed a one-sided rivalry with Purshee over the affection of her mother and Master. In 'canon' Purshee never managed to rectify that situation and eventually distanced herself from her lineage after Neema's fall and death and Vima's mental breakdown over the loss.

In my mind where canon is but a vague suggestion tho none of that happens and hey are a happy family forever and ever.

Though Purshee never takes a Padawan of her own, she's always there as a helping hand for any fellow Archivists or Masters during their child-rearing adventures.

#answering asks #this is a long one #but fun!#me writing #ask game #star wars oc #purshee izleze #star wars #random boli thoughts

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freemindedspirit · 4 months

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Hello Miaro,

How are you doing? I'm doing well enough.

I wanted to ask for a dream interpretation if it's ok with you. This was originally a text message to one of my friends, btw.

I just had a very cool dream with my beloved Moonlight. Where they were taking me to events with them and their friends. Mostly dinners. We'll eat together.

Someone in the group took a picture of our table, and we hugged for it. We'll go to different restaurants each time, and I was mostly focused on the desserts. I think a couple of people were commenting on that.

At some point we went to a function and there was a girl wearing a green dress, kinda young. I was the only other one wearing green, so we did a fist bump, and I said twinsies or some random nonsense like that.

Also, there was a point where my beloved went to one of those without me (probablycause I hate going to public places). And people were speculating that we broke up, and then they pulled up a laptop cause the event was being live streamed and they were video calling with me. They put the sound so everyone could hear me. When I noticed, I started making creepy sounds and comments to the people who said we broke up.

I don't remember exactly what I said. But was the style of "can you hear me. Im watching you. Im always watching. Im in your walls. You can't escape from me." I also did my maniacal evil laugh. They let me go on for about 10 seconds and then told me to cut it out 😔 .

I dont remember if this was before or after, but we went to an amusement park together. We even got in a ride. They were holding my hand the entire time. Some of their buddies were there, too. I think one gave me some shiny small toy that I liked and probably immediately put it on my mouth cause I never grew out of that stage when I was a toddler.

Anyway. The dream ends on a kitchen, and there's Gordo Ramsey. It seems like a show. There's this girl who baked a cake. Look like a humongous wedding cake. And inside the first floor there was another mini wedding cake. And then Ramsey walked in and was like, "No, no, no. What did you do? She's going to eat this." He was holding a piece of cake, and you could tell the filling(ifk what the cream between levels is called) was the wrong color or something. The girl said she was sorry. The "she" Ramsey was talking about a sort of very important elderly celebrity. She looked like Audrey Hepburn looks rn. And that was a bizarre end to the dream.

Could you tell me if it means something. Im theorizing that sometimes my soulmate and I connected our dreams when we slept at the same time. I'd say this is one of those, especially for the Gordon Ramsey part. I don't even like that man. Never showed in my dreams before today. No celebrity has to be fair. So the Ramsey part made me really want to know if this mean something.

Thanks a lot!

For the first part : You are craving unity and companionship with this "Moonlight" and this group that you feel like you are desperately needing in your 3D life. You project your insecurity onto this person and are therefore desperately protective over the relationship, you feel like people questioning it are putting your relationship, and therefore your self-esteem in danger. You want people to SEE, to BELIEVE you are with that person and meant to be that way. You want to hold onto that so strongly that some much darker sides of yourself are willing to come out to defend it. This is telling me you have an unhealthy attachment to the way others view the relationship, maybe even to the relationship itself. It seems you are not dating this person in the 3D currently, you should check in with yourself and your guides as to why you are holding onto it so strongly and if it is truly what they want from you. If you are dating them currently ( which i strongly, strongly doubt), you should really discuss together what it the role of the public in your relationship and how to keep a healthy relationship to it . I think the girl in a green dress is a younger version of yourself, I dont exactly see her role in the dream, but I think you are meant to see it for yourself. The person who gave you the toy is one that brought you a new experience or a piece of information that you found precious and hold onto dearly. For the Ramsey part, I think this is mostly due to things you thought about or saw lately, but in general it tells about your relationship to authority. You want to show a big deal to someone you think is respected, but ultimately you are not even focused on the right thing (making a huge wedding cake instead of of doing a smaller one but with the right cream). There is absolutely no sign here that any of the people involved is your soulmate or of their presence in the dream.

#dream analysis

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babyboibucky · 3 years

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The Match - Part 5

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You find yourself in the middle of a predicament.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: SMUT as always, sort of public sex??? Unprotected sexy times, emotional damage lmao

A/N: Buckle up, babies!!! You’re in for a rollercoaster ride for this chapter ajckjasncjak I apologize in advance and please don’t hate me

AND BTW if you guys haven’t seen, I found the perfect playlist for this series lmao I saw the title and I was like HOLD UP this is perfect https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Eg5ZH6wMq4iocF5fWSesb?si=aff157a6198a4446

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Still awake, baby?

Fuck.

You screamed into your pillow upon reading Bucky’s text. It was quarter to midnight and you couldn’t sleep, especially not after Bucky told you that he wanted to make the relationship official.

It’d only been three months and you felt like he was moving too fast. And when he promised that he would find a way to snatch your heart the old-fashioned way? You wanted to explode because obviously, he already did.

But you weren’t going to say that to someone who already had a huge ego (and cock, too).

You composed yourself and typed in your reply, throwing your phone to your side after sending it.

Yeah. Why are you still up tho?

Not even a minute later and your phone began to ring. You sat up on your bed and squeezed your pillow, hating how Bucky had such an effect on you. Jesus, what are you, a high school student?!

You stared at his name on your screen before swiping and accepting the call.

“What’s up?” You answered as calmly as you could.

Bucky’s low chuckle sounded so fucking sexy that you had to bite your lower lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

“Still working. Can’t concentrate though, I keep remembering how you looked like with my cock in your mouth.”

You exhaled through your nose, “Jesus, you’re insatiable.” You said.

“Only for you, baby. You know that.” He said and your heart did a little somersault inside your chest.

“Don’t stay up too late, you have an early meeting tomorrow, right?” You asked, trying to change the topic because if you didn’t, you were sure how things would go.

Bucky let out another chuckle, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll just finish signing some papers and then I’m off to bed.”

You hummed and laid back down on the bed. It was completely silent but it wasn’t awkward. You heard the shuffling of paper on Bucky’s end, followed by the squeaking of a chair.

“You still there?” Bucky asked.

“Mhmm, you done?” You asked back.

“A few more papers left, baby. Can you wait ‘til I finish?”

There was something about talking to Bucky on the phone like this, so casual and so...mundane. It felt natural and comfortable, to think that this was the first phone conversation you had with him. He only sent you texts previously so this was new, but you had to admit, you loved it.

Bucky heard you yawning and let out a soft laugh. He sounded sleepy too when he spoke, “Almost done.” He reassured.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow.” He added.

“Yeah, okay. As long as it’s not in the same restaurant we went to after my promotion.” You groaned at the memory.

Bucky snorted, “We’re banned there, babe. Even if I wanted to go back there, they wouldn’t allow it.” He said.

“No shit, Sherlock. We got caught in their bathroom, of course they’ll ban us.” You huffed out.

“I was looking forward to dessert, you know.” You pouted.

“I got my dessert though.” You could hear Bucky’s smug smirk through the phone.

“Are you done?” Bucky whispered into your ear as he placed an arm on the back of the booth.

You shivered at his voice and nodded, grabbing your champagne and drinking it in one go.

“I promised you something, didn’t I? That I’ll give you something right before dessert? Meet me in the bathroom in five. Again, don’t be late.”

And with that, Bucky slid out of the booth and adjusted his suit before leaving for the bathroom. You clutched your heart and waved at the waiter who passed by, requesting for a refill and downing it before following Bucky.

You adjusted the black dress that Bucky bought you, you were surprised at how perfect the fit was. The lovely dress though, made you uncomfortable because of its length and the fact that Bucky still had your panties with him was making you feel even more conscious.

You were immediately pulled into the men’s bathroom as soon as you got there. Bucky tugged you into one of the cubicles and wasted no time to bend you over, lifting your skirt up to squeeze your ass.

“I knew I picked the right dress, you look good enough to eat.” Bucky grunted as he unbuckled his belt.

You moaned and pressed your palms against the door, pushing out your ass towards Bucky until you felt him line his tip up to your entrance. In one swift move, Bucky bottomed out and didn’t give you enough time to adjust.

It was fast and violent, the way Bucky fucked you inside that stall. Both of you were too caught up in the pleasure to even hear the commotion happening outside.

“Not gonna last long, Bucky...” you whimpered, feeling your legs tremble.

You’d been on edge the entire time, having been denied your orgasm earlier. And Bucky kept on squeezing your thigh teasingly during dinner, palm always inching higher until it settled close to your bare mound.

Of course, you wouldn’t last long!

“I know, baby.” Bucky said, sucking the skin on your exposed shoulder as he continued to fuck you from behind.

Once done with the sex escapade, the both of you were welcomed by the restaurant’s manager with a disapproving (and scarred) look on his face.

You blushed at the memory, “Let’s not do that again, please?” You said.

Bucky laughed, “Fine, fine. But dinner tomorrow, okay?”

You yawned at the same time you hummed, “Just dinner.”

“Wholesome dinner.” He confirmed. “Alright, I’m done with work. Sleep now, baby.” He cooed and you nodded even though Bucky couldn’t see you.

You heard footsteps and then the sound of the door closing shut.

“Good night, baby.”

“Hmm, good night, Bucky.”

To say you were giddy the next day was an understatement. You were on cloud nine after having a phone conversation with Bucky last night. You even greeted Janet the snitch a very good morning when you shared the elevator with her.

You entered your floor and offered everyone a smile, but you also noticed that they seemed to be preoccupied talking to each other.

“What’s up?” You asked Martha and the other girls who were huddled together.

“Haven’t you heard?” She asked. “Sophia shared an elevator ride with Mister Barnes earlier. He called a flower shop, asked for their most expensive bouquet and then went on to make dinner reservations at an elite restaurant!”

You paled at the discovery and cleared your throat, “And that’s a big deal because?”

Martha snickered, “Girl, we’re talking about James Barnes here, a rich and eligible bachelor. It is a big deal. And ugh, I wonder who the lucky lady is! What I’d do to be her.” Martha dreamily said.

“Do you think it’s an employee here? Fuck, I’d be so envious if that girl happens to be working here!” Sophia added.

“Is that even allowed? Sounds pretty scandalous to me.” Kate chimed in.

“Oh my god. Remember the pantry incident that Janet reported? What if that was Mister Barnes and his girl? Damn, that’s juicy. It’d be horrifying if they get caught.” Kate added.

Your head felt light-headed at all the information that was going on. Hearing their conversations felt like a bucket of iced water was being poured on you. It was like a moment of a major realization.

Shit, what has gotten into you, getting all tangled up in this mess? Damn you, Tinder!

Even if Bucky agreed to take things slow, you realized that it wouldn’t really help. If news got out that you were dating the CEO of your company, you’d still receive some backlash for it.

Maybe making it official wasn’t the right thing to do. At least, not yet.

“Ladies, gossip time is over.” You announced and tried to stay calm. “And speaking of Barnes, I need to submit a report.”

You nervously knocked on Bucky’s door, hoping that he was back from his early morning meeting. You could hear him talking inside and thought that maybe he was busy.

“Come in.” He called before you could even turn around.

Slowly, you opened the door and slipped inside his office. Bucky was on his chair, talking to someone over the phone. When he saw that it was you, he quickly put his phone on mute and smiled.

“Yes, baby? What do you need?” He asked softly.

Goddammit! Bucky was surely getting used to that pet name. Initially, he’d only call you that in the throes of pleasure. But somehow, Bucky began to use it so casually that it made you nervous. What if he slipped and called you that during a meeting, in front of everyone?

You hated how Bucky was becoming soft and gentle around you, well, except maybe when he was in a certain mood. It was confusing the hell out of you. But you also enjoyed being the only one to witness his soft side.

Was his offer to make things official because he truly liked you or was the fucking that good to make him want to commit all of a sudden?

“I uhh, I think I’ll just come back later if you’re busy.” You stammered.

Bucky held up a finger and then unmuted his phone, “Hey, something important came up. I’ll call you again later.” He said and quickly ended the call before turning to you.

“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He said, his eyes the softest you’d ever seen.

There goes your heart.

“I think...” you trailed, not sure how you were going to say it.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you, urging for you to continue. You heaved out a deep sigh. Your hands balled into fists at your side as you walked closer to his desk.

“Can we raincheck on the dinner tonight?” You asked.

Bucky frowned, “Why?”

You shrugged, “No reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I’ll have you on my lap for some spanking.”

How the hell does Bucky do that? Become all sweet and soft and then rough and dominating all of a sudden?!

You squeezed your thighs together because the image of Bucky’s hand landing on your ass was doing things to you. You willed yourself not to give in, you came here for a reason.

“There are rumors about you. Someone heard you making dinner reservations and now everyone’s talking about it. I just...” you paused to check Bucky’s reaction but as usual, you couldn’t read his face.

“Maybe making this official isn’t...the right thing to do.”

Bucky pushed himself up from the chair slowly and stalked towards you. Was he mad? Fuck, you hoped he wasn’t. When he reached you, his hand came up to brush your cheek with his knuckles.

“What do you want then?” He asked.

Shit, you never actually thought about it. What do you want? Keep things casual between you and Bucky? Completely stop whatever it was that was going on between the two of you?

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“I like you.” Bucky stated and stepped back. “You’re intelligent and you don’t take shit from anyone, myself included. When you said you wanted to take things slow, I agreed to it. Hence, the flowers and dinner. Now that I’m giving it to you, you still don’t want it.”

Bucky’s livid. He was composed but the way his jaw tensed as he spoke was enough proof that he was mad, really mad. It’s his calm demeanor despite being angry that somehow scared you. The calm before the storm. What the storm was going to be? You didn’t know and honestly, you weren’t sure whether it was something that you even want to find out.

Maybe you were being confusing or indecisive but only because things happened too quickly for you to even properly process it. To think that you addressed your concerns last night, you actually that Bucky understood where your feelings were stemming from. However, it seemed to have gone over his head.

“Bucky, I don’t think you’re getting my point here.” You explained, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“If you heard what your employees have been saying about you and your...girl, you’d understand.” You said and placed your hands on your hips.

Bucky made a face, “Then make me understand. What did you hear?” he asked.

“We already talked about this last night! They’d think that the promotion was given to me because we fucked! That’s going to taint my image for the rest of my life.” You huffed out.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand as he paced back and forth, “They’re idiots if they think of that. What do you want me to do? Give a detailed presentation why I decided to promote you? Go through your evaluation one by one? He sarcastically said.

“Oh my god, Bucky. You really don’t get it, do you?” You let out a humorless laugh.

He shrugged, “You’re confusing the hell out of me. Just tell me what the hell you want to happen.”

“Maybe I just want keep things professional.” You blurted out in the spur of the moment.

You didn’t mean it. You so didn’t mean it. Fuck. You word vomitted and now you were going to regret it.

Something in Bucky ticked, you saw it. He approached you until he was towering over your frame. It was intimidating to say the least, the way Bucky stared down at you with a blank expression on his face.

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky asked, his eyes looking down at your lips for a quick second before moving back up to your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.” you retorted and you’re not sure why.

Bucky exhaled through his nose and this time, you could read his face. He was fuming.

“I told you, you’re mine.” He said through gritted teeth.

The tension in the air was thick. The close proximity was making you dizzy, Bucky was so close that his scent was invading your senses. His jaw was clenched tightly as he looked down at you with piercing eyes and you were so tempted to just grab his face and kiss him and tell him that you liked him too.

But of course, your pride just had to be in the way.

“You don’t own me, Bucky. I am my own person.”

Another word vomit. You were Bucky’s the moment he laid his hands on you and you liked it.

Bucky inhaled and shrugged, loosening up before taking a step back. “So you want to keep it professional, huh?”

No.

“Yes.”

Bucky nodded, “You’re lying. I know you are. But okay then, professional it is. Let’s see how long you can keep lying to yourself.”

You watched Bucky walk back to his desk, sitting down on his chair with his arms crossed over his wide chest. His face was void of any emotion all of a sudden, he didn’t even look angry anymore and you hated how you couldn’t seem to figure him out.

“Anything else you’d like to discuss?” he asked, the professional tone of his voice sending chills down your spine, but not in a good way.

You slightly nodded, placing a folder on top of his desk before backing away. “It’s this month’s report.”

“Okay. You’re dismissed.” He casually said, grabbing the folder and skimming through your report as if you weren’t standing right in front of him.

You felt a pang of pain hit you right in the heart when he looked up at you questioningly, as if he was wondering why the fuck you still haven’t left his office. At that moment, you wanted to take back all the things you said and just give in to your damn feelings.

But would you really let your career nosedive just to be with Bucky? You weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

You straightened up and maintained a calm demeanor, “That’s all. Thanks, Bucky.”

“That’s Mister Barnes for you.”

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ahjustroza · 3 years

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Do you have any hcs abt Last Legacy modern au?

Sorry for the wait! I just write very slow 🥺😭 btw I am still writing other requests! I'll post them as soon as I finish writing ✨😌😏 And YES I still take requests😏😏😏

Lol btw I haven't played the catboy Felix tale yet but found his delicious CG. Also, there might be typos etc. My dyslexia was a hoe for the last couple of days (･_･

Last Legacy Modern Au Headcanons

Sage

Lmao the first time you went to his place you faced with an ancient-looking old computer that he found in a garage sale

"It still works"

"Sage with its monitor alone you can heat your entire house in winter"

"Aye, but I don't have to use that to get heated if you catch my drift."

Let me give you a concept: thrift store dates

You took him to a thrift store once and thought it might be fun

But at the moment you entered the store Sage found a damn fake fur jacket and gold sunglasses

He will buy anything with a famous brand logo and say it is original and is an antique

But he'll only do that to annoy people

Mostly.

Sage cares about his looks but doesn't go crazy about it

Before dating you he just lived his life like a street kid like in cyberpunk 2077

Sage and Tulsi grew up in slums and then Sage got an apartment so that Tulsi could grow up in a safe environment

He didn't go to college but made sure that Tulsi did

Sage basically works as a mercenary in the modern au as well

He travels a lot and has to disappear for a looong long time

Tulsi is used to it but you aren't

Once you two are in a relationship and he feels ready to settle down he might get a job closeby to your shared house

You made him realize that he needs his family around him

And now he is not alone to carry all the burden by himself

He knows that if he can't make it in time you will be there to help out Tulsi or take care of all the work for him

He feels lighter around you

Also, he makes many people jealous on the streets lol

Whenever you two are on a date no one can believe that you, a literal divine being, could look at a Boku no pico catboy maid-sama man like him.

He is also jealous of you

But never possessive

He likes to send you out of context memes in the worst possible times ever

Like you got Luigi and Mario animations, doing the waltz, with the Britney Spears' Toxic song during the busiest hour of your shift

He also texted "This us"

The audacity

Sage would also LOVE video games

Especially Final Fantasy games

But he suck at playing them so he makes you play instead

And he'll give instructions too

"I saw a checkpoint in the other room babe,"

"Love, I gotta run away from the boss right now."

"It's not the boss, bosses have their boss rooms. This is an obstacle"

Sage also suck at filing taxes

So good luck with that

I can see Sage having PTSD treatments because of his traumatized childhood and the life he had to live until now after settling down with you

You convinced him to go to therapy and Tulsi backed you up

So he will take medications every day

At first, you had to remind him a lot, but then he just made it an addiction and now doesn't need reminders

He was never happier and finally had a taste of a healthy and caring relationship with you

He is also not so terrible with putting the IKEA furniture together.

Felix

He got expelled from Harvard.

Then his rich father had to convince the headmaster to reconsider the decision and Felix ended up with suspension instead smh

Felix's grades are great but he has disciplinary issues

I can see him majoring in criminal justice and mortuary science

Or maybe just mortuary science

Escell was very disappointed in him.

He is also famous for dating with the valedictorian among Harvard graduates

Then they broke up and you yeeted yourself in his life

Or he yeeted himself to your arms

He literally dramatically fell one day and you happened to be close to catch him

Then the Titanic music played in the background with the slow summer rain fell down to your heads

You are hot so he was flustered

Like he internally screamed when he fell in your arms

Or shall I say fell in love?

You two then started as friends since not too later he found out that he might actually have a chance with you after you mentioned your love of video games and romance books

After starting to date he confessed that he has an AO3 account asddgf

Rime was a burden too

He was the one who broke Felix's heart

But still wanted him to only love him and him alone

Then you were like

"Hoe listen to me..."

Rime hot

But no

Felix cried until morning the day you fist fought Rime in the grocery store parking lot

AAHGDHFA

Scylla secretly approved your determination that day and watched the fight afar

Escell got drunk and Florian came home the day after for everyone's explanations

The deeper your relationship got the more a part of his family you become

I mean every Friday it was now a routine that Felix and you attended family dinner

No one even asks anymore they just put your plate down and Escell hides his most expensive wine bottles from everyone

Felix is not good to live in his own house though

He always lived with someone in the house so he wasn't alone

Ever.

When you moved into the same house with him Felix was relieved

You two will be emos together and watch fifty shades of grey movies during the quarantine

Please ask Felix if he thinks the movie is interesting, he will avoid you all day long

Then become a blanket burrito at night lmao

Oh btw he might tell you random facts about mortuary

Like you are in the shower and he comes in to brush his teeth

Then he'll tell you a fact you didn't have to know then leave

"Truly fascinating, if you ask me."

He is also the type to text you from the other side of the room

Or call you from the other room to ask you if you can bring him something to eat

Felix would also love to go to the farmers' market too

"Finally some quality food."

Whenever you two go on a vacation together

lmao someone ALWAYS takes his hand and reads his palm

Only to be ended up getting scolded and getting a proper palm reading from Felix

Anisa

Call her and ask if she wants drive tru

"Love, it is thREE IN THE MORNING, I have work tomorrow-"

"So two? Or nah?"

"Get a coffee."

Actually, she wants a cookie but won't admit it

She knows you'll get her a cookie

You always get her a cookie with coffee

Anisa might be a great investigator if you ask me

If not a detective or a police chief or lieutenant

But I think she would work in law enforcement

Or she might also start her own company and rise as well

Unlike Sage and Felix, Anisa will not live in the same house with you before she decides to settle down for good

It's not because she doesn't want you around her

But because she is always at work and doesn't want to leave everything to you to handle at home

But she is always with you on her day offs

Will call you once a day at least

Text you during her breaks or whenever she can

If you can show up at her workplace during the lunch break she will take you to the nearest coffee shop

"Their coffee is not nearly as good as yours, but among other shops, this is the most drinkable one."

She will spoil you during your dates!

She likes to see you smile and will do anything for you to have a good time with her

So expect sweets, movie nights, amusement park dates, or just traveling during both of your yearly week/month offs/breaks

She won't admit it but likes it when you try to match your clothes with hers

She will know your favorite everythings lol

Take her to a dinner date and she will be so happy and feel spoiled

She will let you paint her nails

Let you get all the hot water in the shower

Will let you wear her clothes

Pillow fights are allowed every now and then

When she gets sick she'll try to power through but likes it when you baby her

Whenever you get sick she will try to not fuss over you but every 15 minutes she'll ask to take you to see a doctor

She is a cereal gal

You might have to drag her to bed many nights because she will take work at home

Oh my god, do play dungeons and dragons with her

If you visited somewhere she has never been she will ask a lot of questions about your trip

Likes to binge a tv series you two found online

Also enjoys just silent but comfortable moments with you

When you read your book she will gaze at you

All heart eyes

Will put her favorite picture of you two as her profile picture in her social media accounts

Will like your every post

ALWAYS TEXTS BACK TO YOU. ALWAYS.

Never leaves you on read/seen

She will either give you a proper text or just let you know that she is busy at the moment

Also if you come home later than her she will ask if you want her to prepare anything special you want for dinner

otherwise, she'll do dishes that you both like anyway

If she is late, she'll call you to ask if you need anything from the grocery store, etc.

#last legacy #felix escellun #fictif last legacy #fictif games #sage lesath #fictif #fictif felix #fictif sage #sage last legacy #felix iskandar escellun #felix headcanons #last legacy sage headcanons #sage lesath headcanons #anisa headcanons #anisa anka headcanons #last legacy headcanons #some writing

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