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#implied future poly
Noelle was having a bad day. She definitely had a cold, but her mother wouldn't let her stay home sick; and both Susie and Kris had called in sick so she had no one to talk to ... besides Berdly. During class he talked over her, and it was now lunchtime and she was tired of him.
He was droning on about a kill he'd gotten in Pubnite, and she just wanted to be anywhere else.
Anywhere else.
She had found Kris and Susie ... about to make out? Noelle wasn't entirely sure what they were up to, but considering they had been out all day the previous day she wanted to investigate that closet.
She stood up
"I'm going to the bathroom. Please take notes for me?"
"Anything for you," Berdly said.
Berdly really needed a reality check. Or twelve.
Noelle went to the supply closet.
She opened it, only to find an open void.
She tripped.
The fall didn't feel like a normal fall. She had fallen out of a tree more than once whilst playing with Kris, and this felt much ... slower ... longer. She landed on her face, somehow injuring only her dignity.
She stood up and rubbed her eyes. This couldn't be real. She must be on something, like maybe marker alcohol? She was far too lucid for that, though. The world in front of her was a small town nestled in a forested valley. It was dark; maybe nighttime? But the town was busy; monsters of all shapes moving from place to place. And beyond the town was a large castle with a pillar of even deeper darkness past it.
She walked into town, hoping to find someone she could talk to. Some way home, no matter how much she wanted to collapse of fatigue.
She tapped the -- was it a shoulder? -- of a passing pawn.
"Hi. Where do you think I could go for directions back home?"
"Well, lightner, the Prince would be your best resource for this. Go to the castle."
And so she did, wondering whatever a lightner might be -- she only knew herself to be a boss monster, afterall.
The castle apeared to be backlit; though from what, Noelle didn't know. She walked into the entrance courtyard, but there were still no guards to be seen. As she knocked though, the fatigue started to get to her. A white furred monster called for help as she fainted.
As she came to, she heard the muttering of the monster who'd called for help.
"They're sick ... gonna hafta keep them here until they get better. Fuck, Ralsei. Do you know how to help a sick lightner?"
She tryed to, and failed, to sit up.
"Don't do that, please. What's your name? Pronouns?"
"Noelle. She/her." Talking hurt so much. She coughed a storm as soon as she stopped.
"Mine's Ralsei. He/him," he said. "Your throat sounds ter... There's water on the side table, though I guess you might need help."
He picked up the cup, and brought it to her lips.
"Sorry about the lack of a straw, couldn't find one when I grabbed this."
"It's okay."
Ralsei, now that she had a better chance to look at him, was cute. A thought of which, if she were more lucid, would've brought her to contemplate her sexuality. He wore a simple green dress over a black sweater, with a pink scarf and matching green glasses.
"Do you've anything else you need? I'll be making some renovations, so ring that bell if you need anything."
Noelle was already asleep before he stopped talking.
When Noelle woke again, a little blue monster was in the chair next to her bed.
"Hey miss lightner! I'm here to watch over you while little kindboy sleeps. You've anything you need?"
"Water?"
"One glass of water coming right up!"
They grabbed the glass off the nightstand. It now had a pink straw in it.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. You know Susie? Big, pink thrashing lady?"
"Yeah. I'm in the same class as her, and I guess we're friends? Kris has been talking to me more, and she's always with them."
"We should hang out sometime!"
"When I get better."
"Yeah, when you do."
Ralsei knocked on the door as he entered the room.
"My watch up?"
"Yeah."
The little blue monster ran out of the room.
"What's their name?"
"He's Lancer. About the only person I trust to take care of you."
"He knows Susie?"
"Yeah. Kris and her first came down here a few days ago. We had an adventure and a half that first day." Ralsei looked contemplative. "Do you know them?"
"I've known Kris all my life. Susie ... I've only just started to know her as anything other than a classmate." And both as crushes. Though Ralsei needn't know that ... no matter how cute he was.
"I think I'd love to train you, once you get better. It'd be nice to get to know you!"
Was he blushing? No, couldn't be. Why would he like her? Noelle pushed down these thoughts to pay attention to Ralsei.
"Would you like a book or something? You must be bored."
Noelles stomach growled.
"You're hungry! Right, you've not eaten since you got here. What do you wanna eat? What do lightners eat when they're sick?"
Noelle wanted Toriels chicken noodle soup, but would Ralsei even be able to make that?
"Chicken noodle soup would be nice."
"Kay. I'll go make that now."
Ralsei ran out the door. The room Noelle was in was relatively barren: there was a nightstand, the bed, and the chair opposite the bed. There was nothing to do, and she felt like cotton was stuffed in each sinus. In other words, she felt like shit.
The nightstand did have a drawer, though. Seemed to be easily reachable. She wondered what might be in it? Her own nightstand had her journal, and she had no clue who's room this was. The colors did match Ralsei's clothes. Could this be his room?
Ralsei entered the room again. He was carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming chicken soup on it. Not that she could smelll a thing, though.
He placed the tray on the nightstand.
"Um. I might have to feed this to you. You okay with that?"
Noelle nodded.
Ralsei fed the soup to her daintily. He seemed nervous? While she had been close to the Dreemurrs she'd never been good at reading faces.
Once the soup was done Noelle felt far better. And far sleepier.
"Thanks for the soup."
"You're welcome."
And she slept again. Dreaming fever dreams, with the more pleasent ones having Ralsei, Susie, and Kris in them.
The -- was it morning? -- after started much the same. Lancer being Lancer, and Ralsei keeping her fed and watered. It was much more pleasent then this sounds! However, when Ralsei left to do some renovating, Noelle's curiosity piqued.
What was in that drawer?
She opened and reached it; all much harder to do when laying down.
It was a book. Ralsei's manual? It said please read on the cover.
Well.
If it says so!
The book was written in stuffy prose, but it wasn't anything too difficult to decypher.
Noelle read about the prophecy. About how a human, monster, and prince from the dark. Ah. So the monsters she'd talked to here weren't monsters, but these darkners. The notes in the margins, written in a much more conversational tone, put Kris, Susie, and him in these roles.
The rest of the book was a battle guide. Didn't seem much to relevant to herself.
"You actually read that thing?"
Apparently it was Lancers shift already. How long had she read Ralsei's book?
"Yes. It's not to bad, once you crack the prose."
"You're a strange one," he said, "anyway, you should drink this tea. He said that if you were still up it'd maybe, uh, help you sleep."
That was sweet of him.
"Uh, thanks."
"You're welcome. Glad I don't have to help you drink it."
The tea was calming, and as soon as she placed the cup on the nightstand she fell asleep.
She woke, and sat up to the view of Ralsei with a tea set.
"Lancer said you enjoyed the tea, so I thought I'd bring you some breakfast tea."
"Thanks."
"You're very welcome." He poured the tea. "What did you think of my manual?"
He seemed exited.
"Seems useful. The prose was a bit stuffy, though."
"This is my first book. Kris and Susie found it boring, though."
"That makes sense. Neither one of them is one for ... traditional literature."
Ralsei looked contemplative.
"Do you want to see my library?"
"Yes!"
Noelle immediately coughed.
"Maybe another t--"
Noelle was already out of bed. And wobbling on unused legs.
"If you insist I ... I have an idea."
He was already out of the room before Noelle could respond. Noelle sat, wondering what his idea could be.
When he came back it was quite clear what his idea was.
"I remembered I had this wheelchair. Should give you some mobility."
Noelle got in the wheelchair, and tried to move herself.
"Please, could you push?"
"Yep."
Ralsei pushed her through the castle, pointing out all the rooms along the way.
"That's Susie's room; that's Kris's; that's the dining room."
The library had the largest door thus far. It was a simple, arched, wooden door.
"And this is the library."
The library's defining feature was, after its books, the massive arched window overlooking the lake. On both sides of the larger, central aisle were rows of bookshelves, each fifteen feet high.
"This so cool!"
"It's my favourite place. I've read many of these books, some good, some bad, some worse."
A thought popped into Noelle's head. How long had she been in the dark world? Her dad would be worried sick about her. She was missing so much schoolwork.
Her spiraling slowed when she noticed that Ralsei was hugging her. It felt ... nice. He was so fluffy.
Noelle was ... crying? When had that started?
"There, there."
"I just ... my dad ... he might've..."
"Are you missing home?"
"A bit."
"I think you're almost better; how are you feeling?"
He started to unhug her, but she didn't want to let go.
"Stay. I'm so tired."
"Do you want to go back to m-- your room?"
"Not yet."
They stopped hugging, and Noelle's face became flushed. Was she ... into him? She'd never been into a guy, though she'd only really had three real world crushes before.
"Um, what's a book you'd reccomend?"
Noelle seriously wanted to think of anything other than Ralsei's fur and voice and outfit and how kind he was and that she was apparently bi and--
"What did you say?"
Was he blushing too? Now was to soon to confess a crush, right?
"Um... did you mean to say that out loud?"
She said that aloud? Fuck, he's gonna think she's trying to come on to him and hate her and --
"Because I've one on you, too. I think: I've never really had a crush on anyone before ... except maybe ..."
He continued to speak, but Noelle couldn't focus. He had a crush on her. She wanted to ask him out: that was what you were supposed to do if you confess and the feelings are returned, right?
"I mean, you're very cu--"
"Do you want to go out?"
"Yes. As boyfriend and girlfriend, right?"
"Yeah. Um, we should probably establish boundaries now?"
"Yeah, probably. Sounds like"
Ralsei was still right in front of her. She couldn't do this with him there.
"Let's do it in the sitting area over there."
The boundary discussion was, to say the least, very awkward. Noelle sat in her wheelchair next to Ralsei, and they both blushed feverishly throughout.
"What boundaries should we discuss? I've never seen this in any story I've read."
"According to Ms. Toriel, we should discuss exclusivity, romantic gestures, simple touch, and sex."
"Sex? Now?"
"Yeah, we can have that conversation later. Um... what's your boundary on exclusivity?"
"Yes? Um, where does being Poly lie here?"
Noelle was pleasantly surprised by that. She'd figured she was poly when she brought up her romantic fantasies involving Kris and Susie to her dad. She was ... not confidently poly.
"You're poly too! How did you figure out?"
"I've crushes on a couple ... friends of mine." Ralsei stared at his paws.
"No need to tell me who yet. I want to wait before ... attempting to ask out more people."
Noelle yawned, then coughed up a storm.
"Let's finish this discussion as we head to your room."
As Ralsei pushed Noelle to her room, they established their boundaries regarding touch. Hugs would be ok as long as they accepted noes, kissing would require asking, and anything beyond that would require further discussion.
As Noelle crawled into bed, they said their goodnights. And Noelle had a restful sleep.
In the morning Noelle felt much better; no longer was her throat sore. The day started as usual: with Ralsei bringing her food and water.
"Morning, Noelle."
"Morning, Ralsei. Did we really do that last night?"
"Yep. You appear to be better?"
Noelle was. And thus the day went. After breakfast, Ralsei took her to the library.
"You'll be going home later today. How does that sound?"
"Good. Cannot wait to see dad and Kris and --"
Was that Susie wielding that axe? She looked even more butch down here! Kris was beside her, looking ever the perfect knight. Noelle could have swooned over them. They appeared to be in the middle of an arguement with Lancer
"I was told not to let anyone near Noelle until she's not sick. And she was sick last I saw her!"
"Can we at least visit he- She's down there?"
Kris pointed right at Noelle, then waved.
Noelle waved back.
Susie barrelled down the hall.
"How did you end up down here? Did you fall? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine. Got to meet Ralsei!"
Kris made a sign that seemed to suggest --
"Not yet, Kris. It's none your busi--"
"Not yet what?" Asked Susie.
Ralsei blushed and put his hands on his face.
"Um," Noelle said as she too became flustered. Had she really said 'not yet.'
"I asked if her and Ralsei have fu--"
"Not in front of Lancer," Ralsei interrupted.
"Fine. You two are together, right?"
"Yes."
Susie looked confused.
"Wait. You two just met?"
"Yes."
"How? Kris and I haven't even defined our rel--"
Susie stopped herself. She was so red!
"Enough about our relationships. We need to take Noelle home."
And so they did, Kris and Noelle bantering the whole way back.
"Goodbye, Ralsei," Noelle said at the way out, "Let's have our first date next Wednesday, if that's okay with you?"
"That'll work. Um, you want a goodbye kiss?"
And they kissed.
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sunnami · 3 months
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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞
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summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.
pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)
tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.
note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.
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“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 
You blink. 
“Get the fuck out of my room!” 
Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 
At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 
“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 
“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 
“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 
You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 
“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 
You slam his head against the wall.
Definitely the wrong thing to say. 
Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 
“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  
Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 
“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 
“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 
Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 
(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 
“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 
“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 
Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 
You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 
You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 
Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 
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ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)
“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 
Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  
“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 
(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 
You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 
Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 
Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 
“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 
“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 
Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 
“I know.” Harry grins. 
“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 
“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 
You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 
(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  
The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 
You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 
“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 
“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 
You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”
James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 
“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 
“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”
(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 
Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 
James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 
Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 
“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 
“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 
“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 
“Oi!” 
Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 
James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 
“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 
“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 
(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 
“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 
“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 
Harry wants to barf, actually.
After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.
“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.
“Away from you, Potter!” 
And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”
Harry chortles.
“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 
He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 
“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”
It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 
“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 
“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 
James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”
Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 
Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 
Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 
“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 
Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 
Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 
“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 
“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 
“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 
“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 
Harry’s eye twitches. 
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IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 
Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 
Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”
You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 
The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 
Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 
James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 
“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 
“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 
“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 
“In your dreams!” You shrill. 
You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 
Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 
“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 
“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 
Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 
“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 
Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 
Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 
“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 
You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 
Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 
“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 
To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 
“One date, then.” 
You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 
Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 
“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 
“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 
“And I want to—” 
“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 
You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 
“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  
“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 
“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 
“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 
“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 
“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 
“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.
(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 
“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 
“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 
“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 
“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 
“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 
(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 
“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 
“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”
Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 
He falls in love.) 
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FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.
“Oi.” 
The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 
“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 
Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 
You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 
Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 
Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.
She stiffens.
Oh.
part two
4K notes · View notes
captainfern · 6 months
Note
*comes sniffing in your ask box for treats*
throwing in a silly little request for Simon and Price sharing a partner maybeeee? ily 👉👈
🐩
Fade To Black
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader x Captain John Price
["Fade To Black" by Metallica]
[18+]
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• summary - your boyfriend's love making you feel good <3 that's the summary lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, all porn zero plot<3, established poly relationship, oral [f!receiving], fingering, m!masturbation, voyeurism?, unprotected piv, soft!ghost [use of pet names, praise, obsessed boyfriend things], implied dom!price [minor degradation, minor dumbification], ghost loves you, price loves you too, breeding kink [predictable with my writing i know 😭], both men are possessive, strong language
🍪 - for you !! with a side of cod smut, of course ;3
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Your relationship with John and Simon was, quite possibly, one of the best aspects of your life.
They both took care of you so well, and ensured you had everything you could possibly need. They both spent quality time with you, together and individually, and both spoiled you like good boyfriend's should. They both protected you, too– Simon's hand on the small of your back in public, shooting dark glares at other people brave enough to glance in your direction– John's warm hand in yours, guiding you through a crowd, his thumb brushing soothing stripes across your knuckles.
Both of them loved you. Both of them were totally, utterly obsessed with you.
How could they not? You were just so good for them. Always worrying about them, patching up the wounds they often returned home with, cooking for them after a long day working. You tended to their needs first, in more ways than one– example, you never complained about dropping to your knees in front of them if they needed some kind of release.
God, they loved that part. They loved the part of you that was so eager to be good for them. Both of them. How willing you are to let them toss you back and forth between one another, bend you over the couch, spread you out on the rug, pin you up against a wall. Obviously, they loved everything about you, but a pretty thing like you being theirs and theirs alone? A blessing.
But just as much as you loved to service them, they loved to service you. It was in their nature, of course. Looking after their girlfriend? Their future wife? It was instinct.
And besides, even when it was their turn to give more, you were still always good for them.
Late one evening, John returned home and kicked off his shoes. Usually, you'd rush to the door to greet him, even if you did have to wriggle your way out of Simon's hold sometimes. You'd wrap your arms around him and hug him tight, and he'd return the hug with a kiss to the top of your head.
This time was different. You didn't rush into the entry-hall to greet him with the most beautiful smile. Instead, John was greeted by complete silence as he walked further into the flat.
Well, it wasn't complete silence.
Other times where you'd failed to greet him, he couldn't help but frown. This time, his lips quirked into a knowing smile as he made his way towards the living room.
Your breathy whimpers filled the flat, paired with your own laboured breathing and low grunts from Simon. He had you sitting upright on the couch, your legs folded over his shoulders as he kneeled on the ground in front of you, his face between your legs. Simon's grip was tight on your thighs, gripping the flesh and holding your legs in place, which were now beginning to tremble. He grunted with each flat lick of his tongue up your wet folds, followed by another low-pitched noise when he shoved his tongue deep into your cunt, his nose nudging your puffy clit.
You had a handful of his dark blond hair, almost brown in the low light of the living room, fisting it tightly as you arched against the couch. Your eyes were closed, your mouth parted as more whimpers fell from your lips, including whines of Simon–! which made Simon moan against you. He was painfully fucking hard in his trousers.
John watched from the doorway for a moment, leaning his shoulder against it, listening to your sounds. After a moment, Simon pulled away from you for just a moment to utter "Look who's home, baby" before sliding his tongue back inside you.
John couldn't help but chuckle at the fact Simon knew he was there without even turning around.
Your eyes flew open, immediately finding John's. You sucked in a breath, trying to hold your whimpers at bay, long enough to greet him with watery eyes and a small pout.
"John." You keened, eyes immediately closing as Simon's pace picked up. You let out a loud moan that made John's cock twitch in his trousers as he crossed the room and sat beside you on the couch.
He leaned over to kiss you– smoothing his lips against yours before slipping his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss by grabbing hold of your jaw and angling your face closer to his. You moaned into his mouth, his other hand finding the back of your neck, pinning you in place so he could lick further into your mouth.
Below, Simon grunted into your core, muffled. John pulled out of the kiss, still holding your head, looking down to meet Simon's eyes.
"Got something to say?" John asked, cocking his head to the side. You whimpered in his hold, and Simon's eyes darted from John to you, and back and forth a couple times.
John knew Simon all too well. Each time you let out the smallest whimper, the breathiest whine, the longest moan, his cock would twitch, growing harder in his boxers. He loved the noises you made. So with John kissing you...
John smirked, slotting his mouth back against yours, his eyes still on Simon. You moaned into his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut. The noises were quiet now, just deep hums in the back of your throat. Simon's brows pinched as he glared at John. John winked at him.
Simon grunted against your cunt, his tongue moving in and out of you. Small dribbles of your slick slipped down his face, coating his chin as his efforts increased, pace quickening, nose pressing tighter against your little bundle of nerves. He could hear the way you were moaning into the kiss, and his eyes remained firmly on your face.
He knew you were close. Your thighs were slowly tightening around his head, and you were arching further off the couch. Your thighs quivered in his hold, the slick walls of your cunt pulling tighter around his tongue. He groaned into you, letting one hand run up your thigh and over your mound, cupping you there while this thumb pressed heavily against your clit. He rubbed fast circles and finally, finally, you broke the kiss– pulling away from John to moan, "S-Si, fuck, please– please, please–!"
Before John could pull you back into the kiss, you came around Simon's tongue. You moaned, long and drawn out, as Simon licked you through it, still thumbing your clit gently. The sound filled Simon's head, making him reciprocate his own moan, lips parted against the slick mess of your core. He continued swiping licks up your folds, around your leaking hole, until you were squirming against him, John placing kisses along your jaw.
Simon pulled away, kissing your thighs as he went. After placing one final kiss to your inner knee, he got to his feet, knees cracking as he pushed overtop of your body, shunting John out of the way so he could grasp your face and kiss you.
John let out a laugh. "S'that how it's going to be tonight, hm?"
Simon didn't respond. He simply cupped your face and pinned you back against the couch. His knee slotted between your legs as he kissed you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You tasted yourself when your tongues met, and you whimpered his name into his mouth.
When Simon– begrudgingly– ended the kiss, he flopped down on the other side of you. But he pulled you with him, grasping your hips and pulling you into his lap, your back against his chest. He immediately attached his mouth to the curve of your neck and shoulder.
John watched you and Simon for a moment. "Has he been treating you well, sweetheart?"
You nodded, Simon's arms now winding their way around your midriff, holding you to him. Your head lolled back to allow Simon more room, but your eyes remained on John.
"D'you have a good day?" You asked.
"Mhm," John replied simply. "I missed you, though."
"Missed you too." You mumbled, eyelids fluttering when Simon sucked harder, skimming his teeth against your sweat-slicked skin.
John cocked his head, watching your expressions for a moment. He smiled, content, before grabbing a half-smoked cigar from the ashtray at the end of the couch. He relit it, and the familiar sound of the lighter clinking had your eyes opening like some sort of Pavlovian response.
John inhaled and then exhaled, smoke curling out above his head. You watched him with glistening eyes, and he could see your focus drifted across the way his fingers held the cigar. His smile widened, and he lifted his free hand, beckoning you over to him with a curl of two fingers.
Straight away, you weaselled yourself free of Simon's hold. He frowned.
Of course, he let you go and you didn't actually force his hands away. If he wanted you to stay, his arm's wouldn't have even budged.
You crawled into Price's lap, smiling at him when his free hand rested hot and heavy against the bare expanse of your lower back.
"Hold this for me." He whispered, grabbing his cigar and handing it to you. You took it from him, a wisp of smoke fluttering across the skin of your cheek.
His other hand skimmed down the front of your body, over the dips of your breasts and tummy, until he reached your cunt. He groaned when he ran two fingers down your folds. You were so fucking wet. With ease, he slipped his fingers into your sopping cunt, straight to the knuckle. You hummed low in your throat, head tilting forward.
"Fuck, you're wet," John muttered, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. "S'this just from getting your pretty pussy eaten, hm? S'all this 'cause've Simon?"
You moaned. "Yes–!"
Behind you, Simon grunted, and was pulling his cock out of his trousers and fisting it slowly. His eyes watched the two of you closely, the head of his cock leaking pre-cum. What was left of your arousal on his fingers, he smeared it across the hard shaft of his cock, his other hand cupping his balls as you rocked yourself against John's fingers.
John chuckled lowly. "Naughty fucking girl, aren't you, sweetheart? Listen to how wet this cunt is." He pulled his fingers out and then thrusted them in roughly; the sound eliciting was a loud, wet squelch that made your tummy flutter. John hummed, appraising you with dark eyes. "So fucking wet, isn't she, Simon?"
Simon grunted, the movement of his hand speeding up. He jerked his cock, gripping tighter at the base, pausing only briefly to thumb at the reddened tip.
John grinned, then nodded at the cigar you were still holding. You got the hint, drowsily holding it out for him to take into his mouth. He inhaled deeply, and you pulled it away when the hand on the small of your back danced upwards. He cupped your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. He exhaled the smoke into your mouth and you whimpered as you felt it sting the back of your nose and throat.
The kiss was wet, messy, and tasted of smoke. His tongue was relentless against yours, saliva pushed from the corners of your mouth, running down your chin as he forced more and more whimpers from you. He continued to fuck you with his fingers, adding an abrupt third while he sucked on your tongue, before pushing his tongue back into your mouth with a grunt. The smoke was bitter in your mouth, his saliva tasting of it, but it made you moan out anyway– a sound that had Simon dropping a whispered "oh, fuck" behind you.
The heel of John's hand pressed hard against your swollen clit, causing your entire lower body to shudder. The sensation of three of his big fingers inside you was enough to have the pleasure in your lower stomach rise. The roughness of the digits inside you, thrusting against your warm, slick walls and that spongey spot inside you, had your head spinning.
"John, m'gonna– please can I come?" You mewled out, almost dropping John's cigar as your fingers began to tremble.
"You wanna come?" John whispered. "You wanna come? And you're asking your captain for permission? What a good fucking girl you are, sweetheart."
You always loved it when both your boyfriends brought their ranks home. Maybe it was because you were a civilian, but it always had you feeling some type of way.
You mewled again, high-pitched at his words. Behind you, you could hear Simon grunting and groaning, and the wet fap fap fap's of him stroking his cock. You wished you could see it. He always looked so pretty when he jerked off. Such a pretty boy.
"Come 'round your captain's fingers, then. Go on," John said, fingers nailing that spot inside you each time. "And kiss me while you come."
You did– when your orgasm crashed over you, you crashed your mouth onto John's. You shook against him, cunt squeezing his fingers tightly and thighs shaking against his lap. You whined his name into his mouth as, once again, his tongue found yours, pushing more of the acrid taste of smoke into your mouth. His free hand left the back of your head and he plucked the cigar from your hand when he pulled away from the kiss. He placed it back into the ashtray, his other hand leaving the wet heat of your cunt. He grabbed hold of your hip and began grinding you down against the bulge in his trousers. You blew out a long, whiney breath.
Behind you, Simon's orgasm was approaching. Tired and bordering overstimulated, you managed to turn your body to watch Simon as John slowly rocked you against his lap. You whimpered out "you're so pretty, Si" when you finally got a good look at the way he was fucking his fist, his hair dishevelled, lower face still shining with your slick. His cock twitched in his hand at your words, and he moaned your name. Your clit began to throb with need.
"Christ," Simon hissed. "Can– fuck– can I come on your tummy, baby?"
"Please." You whined, butterflies filling your stomach.
John helped you twist in his lap until your back was against his chest. Simon got off the couch and approached, still pumping his cock with his lower lip snagged between his teeth. He grunted with each movement of his hand.
Meanwhile, John weaved his arms around you, large palms cupping your tits as he leaned back further against the couch, exposing more of your midriff to Si. He squeezed your tits, rolling your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefingers, his smoky breath brushing over your shoulder. He nosed at the pulse behind your ear, eyes watching Simon as more pre-cum leaked from the blond's cock.
"Beg for Si, sweetheart," John whispered in your ear, loud enough for Simon to hear. When you whined, John tutted in your ear, rolling your nipples harder between his fingers. "Use your words."
You gasped out. "Fuck– please, Si. Want your– oh, fuck– want your cum, please."
Simon's mouth dropped open, a guttural groan following as he jerked his cock once, twice more, before pushing his hips towards you. He came in hot spurts, covering the soft shape of your tummy in stripes of milky white. He grunted out your name, fisting his semi-hard cock with cum-covered knuckles.
"Fucking hell..." Si breathed, standing over you and John still. John let go of you, running his hands down your body soothingly.
He looked up at Si, who was now ripping his shirt over his head and pulling his trousers and boxers all the way off. John was the only one still completely dressed.
"You want her first?" John asked, rubbing your thighs. You leaned back into him, humming contentedly, eyes closed.
Simon cocked his head. "You don't–?"
"I'll watch first," John said with a smile. "Besides, I've got a cigar to finish."
The real reason John loved watching was, well, exactly that. He always loved watching how you reacted to Si– how you reacted to his touch, his mouth on your skin, his praise. He also loved the way Simon bullied his fat cock into the tight heat of your cunt. John's eyes almost closed in pleasure at the thought.
Simon offered John a grateful smile, before he was gently guiding you off of your other boyfriend's lap. He gathered you in his arms, hugging you for a moment. You squirmed slightly; his seed being smushed between the two of you.
"How do you want me, baby?" He asked you as John grabbed his cigar, situating himself more comfortably at the end of the couch, beginning to unzip his straining trousers.
"Want you on top of me..." You whispered, carefully prying yourself from Si's grasp and flopping onto the plush rug beneath you. You spread yourself out on the rug, sighing through our nose, your body on perfect display.
Simon was hard again. "On the floor?"
"Mhm..." You smiled at him, and you heard John chuckle in the background. You looked over at John. "So the captain get's a good view."
John cracked a smile. "Yeah? You want to get fucked on the rug like a good little whore, hm?" He had pulled out his cock by this stage, pumping himself slowly. Like Si, he was big, the tip reddened and leaking dribbles of pre-cum.
You smiled, biting your lower lip.
Simon settled onto the soft rug between your legs, large hands massaging your knees before grabbing the backs of them and pulling you closer to him. You couldn't help but giggle as you were yanked down the rug, but the giggle dissipated to a stretched out moan as you felt the solid warmth of his cock against your inner thigh.
He grasped his cock at the base, running the ruddy tip up and down your soaked folds. He hummed in pleasure, smearing more of your arousal against the curve of your arse and your inner thighs. The sensation made you shiver, and he squeezed your thigh in comfort.
"S'alright, baby, I'm here," Simon cooed, circling the wet tip of his cock around your swollen clit. "I'm right here..." He mumbled, dragging the tip through your folds until he reached your leaking hole, pressing against it gently.
Your back arched off the rug, your entire body heating up. The one hand he had on your thigh felt like it was burning you, searing into your skin. You whimpered out for him– Simon, Simon, Simon– hands scrambling for purchase, grabbing at the soft rug.
"I know, my girl, I know, 'm gonna give you what you want," he told you, circling the head of his cock over your cunt. More arousal leaked from you, meaning more arousal smearing onto his cock. He stuttered around a groan. "Such a p-pretty pussy, baby. So wet. And such a good girl, too. Been such a good girl for me and John."
John groaned from the couch, muffled around the shape of his cigar. He had stopped stroking himself, and was gripping his cock, hand resting near the patch of dark hair at the base. A hazy cloud of smoke hung in the air above him, and you could smell it– smell smoke, John, Simon, sweat and sex. You took a deep breath.
"Here you go, darling, take what you need," Simon whispered, leaning over your body to place a delicate kiss to your lips as he slid his cock inside you. His pace was deep and slow, dragging against your gummy walls and dragging embarrassingly loud noises from your mouth. Simon groaned too, the feel of your wet heat around him almost too much. When he bottomed out, he mouthed at the crook of your neck. "I love you."
Tears were in your eyes now. He was just so big. But he was so, so soft with you. Gentle.
"I love you too, Si," you said, kissing his cheek. You then looked over at John. "I love you too, captain."
John bit back a moan. Captain. Cheeky girl.
"I love you too, sweetheart."
Simon shifted his hips, dragging his cock out of you. It glistened with your arousal, and it made his face grow hot. He bit back a whimper when he pushed inside you. You gasped, and he did it again. Again and again until he had a set a rhythm that had your entire body on fire, writhing against the rug.
"Si." You moaned, arms moving around his shoulders until the tips of your nails were scraping across the muscular planes of his back.
The head of his cock filled you deep, knocking up against the base of your cervix. The sounds were wet and lewd, paired with your moans and Simon's hushed grunts. John watched and listened, his cock twitching against his stomach as he pumped himself, his cigar resting between his lips.
"You feel so good, baby, fuck. Such a good fucking pussy," Simon grunted into your neck, before he lifted himself back up to look into your eyes. He ground his hips against yours, his cock bullying up against the plug of your womb, stretching you open. You mewled, high-pitched and desperate, scratching at his back. He smiled, strands of damp blond hair falling over his forehead. "That's it, baby, mark me up."
No doubt his back would be striped with red lines by the time he was done with you.
Your body was burning hot against the rug, sweat building at the base of your spine as that familiar knot in your stomach began to grow tighter– pulling and pulling as Simon fucked you.
He had both hands on your hips now, pulling your body to meet his with each of his timed thrusts. On the couch, John had to slow the movement of his hand so he didn't come too soon.
"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" He asked you, taking the cigar out of his mouth for a minute. "Is Simon making you feel good?"
"Yes..." You whined, overwhelmed. You felt so good.
John repressed a groan at the whine in your voice. "Then tell him. Tell him how good his cock feels inside your tight cunt."
Simon closed his eyes. "Christ, cap–"
You moaned, then moved one hand away from Si's back, to his head. You grasped a fistful of his hair and tugged gently, forcing your boyfriend's eyes to open and a strained moan to fall from his mouth. You kissed him, then uttered against his lips, "You're making me feel so good, Si. I l-love your cock– oh my god–!"
Si had reached a hand down and was now rubbing circles on your clit. Your words had his brain swimming, his thrusts deepening and pace quickening. The tight ball of pleasure was drawing tighter and tighter in the base of your tummy, your cunt fluttering around his cock.
"Yeah? You love this cock. baby?" Si mused, a noticeable quirk in the corners of his mouth. "Well, it's all yours, isn't it? S'your cock, jus' like this is our perfect– fuckin'– pussy."
Si punctuated the last three words with heavy thrusts, making you cry out. His words were slurring as his orgasm neared, sweat dripping down his abs.
Our.
That made John groan and come all over his hand and stomach. He moaned your name, head flopping back against the couch, the remnants of his cigar already in the ashtray. The moan of your name was followed by a "Jesus Christ, Simon."
"John–" You moaned, wriggling against the rug. You were so close, and as Simon maintained his deep, heavy thrusts, it wasn't long before your cunt was beginning to squeeze him tighter, your legs shaking around him.
"Please, Si," you gasped. "Please, please–! M'gonna, oh my god, m'gonna come– please don't stop."
Simon grunted above you, his fingers still working against your clit, his cock still rutting into you deeply.
"Come for me, baby," he whispered. "Come on my cock. That's it, baby, yeah– good fuckin' girl."
You came around his cock with a sob of his name, your cunt squeezing him tight as the ball of pressure snapped in your tummy. Your orgasm was hard, slamming over you and rendering you breathless, your head floating. Your clit pulsed beneath the movements of his fingers, and in your blissed out state, you vaguely noticed the shapes he was drawing across your clit.
S... I... M... O...
That cheeky son of a bitch.
N...
You sobbed out, your orgasm finally settling and your body going lax against the rug. Simon moved his fingers away from your clit, and used both hands to grab each of your knees. He bent your legs, pushing them up against the rest of your body, folding you in half so he could split you deeper on his cock.
You wanted to scream. He was hitting so deep. You were so fucking full.
"Good girl..." You heard John mutter behind you. That made your stomach flip.
Simon was close. He was huffing, grunting. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated so much his eyes almost looked black. His gaze never left your face as he pounded into you, his cock sliding against your slick walls, drawing dribbles of your arousal out of you with each thrust.
"M'gonna come in this tight cunt," Si whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. He spoke louder when he continued his sentence. "You want my cum, baby? You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up, fill this pretty tummy?"
"Please–!" You sobbed.
"I will, pretty girl, I will. Want you to take it all... take it all like a good girl," he moaned. "Get you– get you pregnant. Fill you up with my kids. I'd look after you, baby. We'd look after you."
You were almost crying now.
"M'comin', baby," Simon all but growled above you. "Take it all. Take it, take it, take it–"
He came, moaning around your name. He came a lot, too– liquid warmth flooding your insides, leaking out around the shape of his cock, punching a moan from his lungs. You shook beneath him, trickles of his cum dripping down the soft flesh of your arse.
He didn't pull out. He simply moved to the side and kept you hugged against him, lying against the rug with you. He looked up at John, who was still sitting on the couch, half-dried cum splattered across his shirt.
Simon smiled. "Join our girl and I on the rug, cap?"
John smiled in return. "No time for rest, Simon. It's my turn."
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ended it here cause i'm lazy but i hope you enjoyed x
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weebsinstash · 10 months
Text
I'm sorry but I can't stop thinking about a certain angsty idea
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Like pretty sure this is implying getting married is a canon event? But in a way, doesn't that kind of, really strip the choice and actual love and magic out of it? Or, could you at least understand the idea of a Spiderperson who may feel that way? Did you genuinely fall in love with someone if it was "supposed" to happen? And the universe could fall apart if you don't so you arent really even given a choice to say no? Isn't that like having a preprogrammed robot instead of a true lover?
Still kinda obsessed with the concept of a Spider Reader where you didn't get scouted by Miguel until after you had already lost your loved ones, but, it's clear that some Spiders are scouted before they have all of their events (Pav), and, I can't stop thinking about, you're in the Spider Society and making friends and having fun and stuff and you're. Still supposed to get married or have a relationship or something and you're just, completely avoiding having anything at all, not even dating anyone, nothing really feels natural to you and you just don't really want anything?
Months and months and months pass and you've turned multiple people down in your home dimension and Spiders at the Society are told not to interact with you in certain ways, which becomes overboard when no one ever seems to want to hug you or even high five you or touch you at all (because "oh don't let them get a crush on you, they can't break canon" or some dumb paranoia) which just eventually develops into isolating you from the Spider Society, and they all think, "ok good they'll spend more time at home and then start the route for this canon event and we can talk to them again" but it just. Doesn't happen. You're starting to show up to the Society less and less but the only thing that changes when you get back home is a loneliness that you fill with a pet and some platonic friends
Peter B is trying to "subtly" nudge you. "Ya know kid, aren't you in your 20s now? Isn't it time you try and, I dunno, get into college or something? You've got so much potential!" as he willingly omits how he met his wife in college and maybe it's in the model that you could meet your spouse there too as a potential option
But I like the idea and already lowkey established concept that canon changes and has tweaks here and there and can be bent in certain ways so, imagine like, idk, imagine Reader already being with the person who is supposed to your soul mate, and, you find out about The Model or whatever, the Arachno Humanoid Poly Mutiverse or whatever, and you just realize kind of on accident that, oh having a relationship at all is kind of just another prison for you to be in, huh? Another choice stripped away from you, another thing that made you feel like a rubber stamp in existence in the weird copy/paste Spider Society. So you just. You don't intentionally bomb the relationship but you become so extremely depressed and refuse to talk about it with your SO that they actually leave you, making the choice independently, changing canon but not breaking it
But here's Miguel, which I guess you could imagine as a protective obsessive romantic figure or even platonic parental, and he's all but grinding his teeth because, as he sees it, you're not only risking completely breaking your canon which you know Would Fucking Kill You, but, why are you constantly shooting down what are supposed to be good changes for your life? No relationships? No college? No aspirations at all? Why are you not living up to your full potential? He's so frustrated because he KNOWS you could "be better than this" and that you're "supposed to" be better than this, but you just seem. Depressed and defeated. He wants you to be better because it's better for your life, your future, your safety (even if depending on preference it absolutely gets under his skin to see you with anyone else romantically or sexually)
And I have no idea how they would externally force you into some kind of relationship but, I've also thought about, alternatively, the tried and true "Reader lost their home dimension but somehow didn't disappear and lives on Earth 928B now" (the movie specifics its 928b ok, pet peeve I know, 928 is comic Miguel, 928b is ATSV movie Miguel) and eventually, somehow, your bracelet comes off one day and you're about to freak out and it's like, wait, you aren't glitching??? Why aren't you glitching? I mean, you're happy to not be in pain and flashing colors, but, this doesn't make sense? And you don't wanna tempt fate but you don't bother to get a new bracelet or, other people are around to witness this weird event and so, Miguel is immediately investigating what happened. I imagine maybe they scan you with the Go Home Machine and it's just like "ha ha yeah you're home already :)" you know like some "Dimensional Match: 928B" and the machine doesn't even activate, it just scans you with the drone, is like "yeah you're good lmao" and goes back to sleep
And now Miguel is like, you know. Understandably concerned because now there are two Spiders for Nueva York, but, also, he's just like, unbeknownst to you absolutely over the moon necause if you're technically a part of his dimension now, maybe you can complete your canon and have some sort of happy ending. But. Miguel never had his wedding either? Or at least not the "true" one, like how Peter moves on from Gwen to Mary Jane? Cue Miguel suddenly spending suspicious amounts of time on his platform in the dark looking at holograms and algorithms and asking Lyla to calculate the probability of you two maybe becoming spouses for each other
AND YOU'RE SO FUCKED IF IT SAYS YOU CAN LMAO. Cause now not only is he all the more obsessed with you (you were BROUGHT to his dimension by a miracle, can't you SEE you're destined for each other) but now it's "don't you understand? Not only are we MEANT for each other, you don't have a choice! You CANT break canon!" And he's fucking putting a finger in your face and lecturing you about how, you know what, it's ok if you're scared and you're not ready. You know why? Because you two were made for each other, and, he must have been made to be this strong so he can protect you and make decisions on your behalf, right? It's all in The Model. It's all in God's Plan. The two of you are going to get married whether you think it's the love you're fantasizing about or not, and Miguel is more than thrilled that he was essentially just handed a certified excuse to keep you all to himself on a silver platter
Also. I guess this is preferential but. Imagine if Earth 928B's solution to two Spidermen, like how Miles' "corrected" itself with getting rid of blonde Peter, what if the universe and canon just went, "actually it's all cool though cause technically one of them isn't going to technically in name be a Spider anymore, they're going to be forcibly turned into a cute little pampered house spouse" and ON GOD he's getting children out of you if you're capable of it and that ISN'T optional. He's thinking you can start at AT LEAST three babies and then talk about how many more from there? He's always wanted a large family with lots of cute little girls and boys, you know 👉👈
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moonstruckme · 7 months
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Helllloooooo!!!! So, I know you wrote a slytherin!cap × James once, but I was wondering if you could maybe write like, poly!marauders with a slytherin reader, who is like annoyingly academic and puts a lot of pressure on herself for her school work bc her parents put a lot of pressure on her growing up???? If not it's totally okay, I hope you have a lovely day and take care of yourself :]
Hi honey, thanks for requesting! I hope you enjoy it and had a lovely day as well :)
Modern AU I guess? Since I couldn't think of what a Slytherin party would look like in the 70s but had a very clear vision of what it'd look like now haha
on that note, cw: Mo Bamba, and also mention of drinking
poly!marauders x Slytherin!reader ♡ 981 words
Remus looks up from where he’s splayed out on his bed, James doodling on his hand with a pen, when you stalk into their room.
Sirius lowers the small mirror he’s been using to do his eye makeup. “Hi, gorgeous. What brings you over from the snake pit?”
“Too fucking loud,” you grumble, sitting on James’ unoccupied bed. You’ve got a thick textbook with you, your fingers keeping your page. “Why does there have to be a rager every other night? It’s excessive.” You open your book, cutting a glare towards Sirius. “Your brother keeps saying he’s going to hex the next person who tries to play Mo Bamba, by the way. Could hear him all the way from my dorm.”
Sirius grins. “Sounds justified.” 
“Sweetheart, it’s a Friday night,” James says, resuming his patterns on Remus’ hand. Remus hasn’t looked, but they’re beginning to feel oddly word-shaped. “We’re about to have a party here, too.” 
You scowl. “Think you guys could at least keep it down?”
He makes a noncommittal sound. “You should join.” 
“I have to study.” 
“What do you have to study for on a Friday?” Remus asks, at the same time as Sirius mutters “Killjoy.” 
You huff, your eyes moving over the page though you can’t be reading. “Doing research for Slughorn’s essay.”
James makes a sound that’s half amusement, half bafflement, capping his pen and freeing Remus’ hand. “Angel, that’s not due until next Tuesday.” 
“I know,” you say, starting to sound prickly. “I just want to be prepared. I need a good grade on this.” 
Sirius rolls his eyes at you. “You’re doing fine in Potions already, sweetheart, just like in every other class. You don’t need to spend your Friday studying to pass.” 
“I don’t just want to pass,” you sneer, looking up at him sharply. “And I want to do better than fine.” 
Sirius raises his hands in a don’t-shoot gesture, and James and Remus exchange a look. You’ve implied, now and then, that your parents weren’t easy on you growing up. They know that every time your family writes to you, they ask for details about your grades and how your classes are going. You’re proud of the fact that your father was head boy and your mother graduated at the top of her class. And it’s a good thing to be proud of your family, but it’s also a lot to live up to, at least in Remus’ opinion. He’s seen how you tear yourself apart when your performance on an assignment doesn’t live up to your standards, and how you worry your lip when reading letters from home. 
Remus understands the desire to do well, and of course you’re ambitious—it’s the core trait of your house—but he worries you take it too far. Although your boyfriends drag you away from your books whenever they can, oftentimes (like now), you seem hellbent on slaving away to build your future rather than enjoying your youth. 
James watches you worriedly, and Remus gives his hand an encouraging squeeze as he stands, moving to sit behind you on James’ bed. Your eyes still skim the page mechanically, shoulders stiff with your habitual rigidity. Remus sets a hang between the blades tentatively, waiting to see if you’ll flinch away before beginning to massage with gentle fingers. You relax as though reluctant, at first slowly and then not. The resistance under his hand falls away, and the look you give him over your shoulder shows your hostility has gone with it. 
“We all know you’re already doing better than fine,” he says softly. “You’ve got the highest grades in our class, love, and you’re going to do well on this essay whether you spend the entire weekend on it or not.” 
You soften further at the praise, but there’s still something wary in your eyes. “I don’t get my grades by just not trying,” you say, the words blunt though there’s no malice in them. 
“No one’s saying you shouldn’t try,” Remus reasons, fingers still splayed between your shoulder blades with a light pressure. “All Sirius is saying is that you can afford a night off. Maybe even a few every now and then, yeah?”
“Right,” Sirius says, eager to rectify himself with you. “You’re fucking killing it, dollface. You’re obviously going to smash this essay, even if you get shitfaced with us tonight.” 
James grins at that. “Yeah!”
“Well,” Remus says mildly, “maybe not shitfaced—”
“Oh no, it’s happening,” Sirius insists, his eyelid glittering as he winks at you. You crack a smile, and something in Remus’ chest eases. When he reaches around you to close your book, you let him, but then grab his hand, snickering. He whips it away, reading for himself. 
“Prongs, why did you write ‘The Casanova of Gryffindor’ on my hand?”
Sirius laughs. “Because it’s true. Can we add ‘Property of the Marauders’ though?”
“Wasn’t room,” James says regretfully. “But I did put a bunch of hearts, did you see?”
“I see,” Remus replies wryly. “Don’t suppose this’ll come off anytime soon.” 
James aims for sheepish and misses, his telltale dimple appearing. It’s completely unfair that Remus is supposed to be upset with him, and yet he still wants to kiss it. “Did it with a charmed pen, so unlikely.” 
“Superb.” 
“Is that the standard decoration for a Gryffindor party?” you ask, seeming back to your snide self. Why does Remus fall so hard for assholes? “Seems rather tame.” 
“I can’t believe we’re finally getting you to one of our parties.” James bounces on the edge of Remus’ bed. “You’re gonna love it, sweetheart, they’re so much fun.” 
You look at him dubiously, though your eyes are playful. “Pretty sure Slytherin throws the best parties in the school. Are you so sure you can measure up?”
Sirius scoffs. “Gorgeous, they’re playing Mo Bamba in there. I think we’ll be alright.”
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Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part I
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Well, it happened... After trying to evade the hype for so long they finally got me 😂😂 This story has had me in a chokehold (haha, get it?) since I started toying around with the idea of it. Hopefully you guys enjoy it, let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for future chapters and/or Sleep Token one shots!
WARNINGS: None
Part II
My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!
Credit to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, ily bb 💗💗💗
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You sat with your feet propped up on the counter, one of the magazines you had yet to sell spread open on your lap. "Be fashion forward this fall." You read out loud to the empty store in a mocking tone as your eyes grazed over the pictures of chunky sweaters, jeans, and boring, brown leather boots. The bell over the door jingled as a customer entered the store, your eyes darted up, expecting one of your regulars. You were met with the sight of someone in a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over their head. 'Great,' you thought to yourself, 'just when I thought I was going to have an easy evening.' You watched the man carefully, waiting to see what exactly he was going to stick in his pockets. Now, you normally turn a blind eye to shoplifters up to a certain extent, everyone deserves to have something to eat. But, being an independently owned store you could only take so much of a loss on your inventory. To your surprise, the man didn't pick up a single item. He took his time looking over the contents of each shelf, his hands never leaving his sweatshirt pocket. "Can I help you find anything, sir?" His head turned slightly in your direction, but not enough for you to see his face.
"What time do you close?" You were caught off guard by his British accent, it was an uncommon occurrence to get outsiders in your small backwoods town.
"Eight o'clock." He nods his thanks and hurriedly exits your store, almost bumping into one of your regulars on the way out.
"Everything alright?" He asks as the strange visitor leaves your store.
"Do you know him?" You ask quietly, as if he would somehow be able to overhear you despite having rounded the corner of the building already.
"Yeah, he's one of those… those cultists that set up shop in the woods." He explains. You were a bit shocked at the realization. You had been seeing headlines in the local newspaper for months as curiosity rose around the small group of men that had built a few Cabins on the very edge of town. Reporters didn't dare venture into their camp for an interview, but that didn't stop them from snapping a few pictures from the safety of the treeline. Four cabins sat at each corner of a small clearing, a large fire pit dominated the center. From what you could make out they seemed to have some sort of root cellar and a lackluster garden, which would explain why you hadn't seen any of them in person until this afternoon. "You be careful, (Y/N). Freaks like that might just try to sacrifice you to some goat demon they worship." He warns. You can't help but roll your eyes at the outlandish statement.
"Mark, those boys haven't done a single thing to bother anyone since they got here. They've been out there for months, if they were going to take someone they would've done it by now." You argue.
He chuckles, "Trust me darlin', I hope you're right. But until then me and a lot of other folks around here plan on keeping a close eye on them. You'd do best to stay away from them."
"You think I can't take care of myself?" You challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Now, Miss (Y/N), you and I both know you'd beat my ass to next Sunday if that's what I was implying." The two of you shared a laugh. "I just don't want something bad to happen, that's all. These strange men show up out of nowhere one day and no one knows where they came from, hell none of us have ever seen their faces. They all wear these black masks, least that's what the reports are saying. You can never be too cautious."
"I'll take my chances." You smile politely in an attempt to get him off his soap box. "Now, I take it you're here for your pack of Marlboros."
"Yes ma'am, and an extra one for Donnie if you don't mind." He responds with a nod as he fumbles for his wallet in his back pocket.
"You got it boss." The rest of your evening was spent rather uneventfully, save for the fact that you would practically jump out of your chair every time the door opened. You glanced up at the clock, there was about twenty minutes left until you closed. "Maybe he decided to not come back." You shrug. Moments later an old, beat up pick up truck rumbled into the parking lot. You watched as the driver got out, his head dipped low to hide his face in the hood of his black sweatshirt. He pushes through the door, the jingle of the bell the only sound to cut through the tense silence. "Welcome back." You tried to sound friendly despite your unease. He nods at you in response, not saying a single word as he makes his way quickly and directly to everything he needs. He approaches the counter, unloading his arm load of supplies before taking a step back. "You got a name to go with those big, broad shoulders of yours?" You ask in a bit of a teasing tone, trying to do what you could to lighten the mood. He remained silent, despite the fact you couldn't see his face you couldn't escape the feeling of his piercing gaze. You opened a bag, carefully organizing his contents inside. "$18.75, sir." He slaps a twenty dollar bill on the counter, not even waiting for his change as he grabs his bag and flits out the door. You watched as he drove off, not sure exactly what you were supposed to make of that interaction. You had a similar occurrence every day for almost a week. He would come in, grab an armful of groceries, put down his money, and he left. You would try and greet him whenever he would come in your store, it was always met with a curt nod.
"Vessel." You froze as he finally spoke up. You looked up, your eyes met with 6 slits on an odd looking mask. "You can call me Vessel." You couldn't think of how to respond at first. He had barely acknowledged your existence before tonight, what had changed?
"Vessel… (Y/N)." You stick out your hand to shake his. "It's nice to finally meet you." You smile as his hands clap into yours.
"You're different from the other people we've run into from town." He remarks.
"The reporters?"
"Some of them, a few others we just happened to cross paths with." You could feel him studying you. "You don't seem scared."
"Vessel, you've been coming in here for over a week now. If you were going to try and hurt me you would've done it by now." You notice the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smile.
"I guess you have a point." He chuckles. You finish scanning his items and give him his total. He places the money down on the counter and picks up his bag.
"How come you never take your change?" You ask as he's almost out the door.
"I know you run this place by yourself, think of it as me tipping a small business." He flashes a brief, brilliant smile at you. You try to hide your shy smile by fixing up your register. "Oh, and (Y/N)?" You glance back up at him. "It's nice to finally meet you too."
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Tag List: @herripinkle @mustluvecho @jumpcauseimfroggy (If you would like to be tagged for Sleep Token stuff let me know!)
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damned-punk · 3 months
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Stress Relief (Killer x Reader)
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Content Warning: kissing, self-esteem issues, implied poly relationship w/ Kidd
Content Description: gn!reader notices Killer is working himself to death so they do their best to relax him but Kidd wants attention too
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It had been one of those unrelenting days at sea and you could tell that it had taken a toll on Killer. He’d never admit it, but constantly barring Kidd from his worst inclinations while also maintaining his duties as vice captain could be extremely strenuous. Having the time to relax was a rarity but he needed it now more than ever. Even more telling than his body language, he’d made dinner several hours earlier than usual which consisted of the same pasta dish he’d made for the last four days. Everyone knew it was the result of burn out and although you appreciated his efforts, you knew it was time to intervene.
After making sure that he’d eaten his fair share, you approached him and let him know that something was wrong with the bed in your shared cabin. He followed you down the hall where you prompted him to layback so he could feel what was wrong. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the bed and when he laid back you pounced on top of him in order to prevent him from getting back up. He protested but you informed him that you’d already worked everything out for Wire to take over the remainder of the evening. He huffed, but removed his mask which surprised you. Even though the two of you had been together for a while, he still preferred himself under the mask. He only ever really took it off to sleep or shower, occasionally when he needed extra air.
You glanced up at him, meeting his blue eyes which were full of adoration at your gesture. He thought he’d been doing a better job at hiding his exhaustion but even Kidd, who wasn’t always great with emotions, could tell he was overworking himself. Killer pressed a kiss to your forehead which prompted you to press a kiss to his lips. You reveled in his beauty, getting to admire him like this was a rarity but you were always happy to oblige when he was in the mood.
“What’re you thinking about? I know that face.”, he called you out as you were very obviously lost in thought.
“I’m thinking about you… How much I love you, how much you do for me, how hard you work for everyone…”, you complimented him, watching as his smirk grew with each passing phrase.
Killer had always had a hard time accepting his own strengths and features. He’d always lived to serve his friends and loved ones, never himself. That was the symbolism behind the mask. He didn’t care for himself and wouldn’t work through it because he was always focused on others. It was an admirable quality and of course Kidd would never let anyone use him, but it pained you to consider his innermost thoughts. He always went on about how he’d die for you, he’d fight to the death for anyone he loved, he’d work himself to death if it meant securing the future for you and Kidd. You knew it was true but at times you wanted to snap at him and ask if he’d rest for you. Would he take a break for you? Relax and allow himself the chance to be happy for you?
“You’re doing it again…”, He pressed a kiss to your nose and squeezed you in his arms.
“Sorry Kill, I just love you so much.”, For the moment, this would have to be enough.
This was as much of a break as he’d ever take and ultimately, you were going to make it as stressless as possible. You readjusted yourself to lay on your back and instructed him to get comfortable. Once his weight was adjusted over top of your body, you went to work massaging his scalp and running your fingers through his hair. He could be particular about how his hair was handled, but he always melted under your fingertips.
You worked your way down his neck and to his back. It was obvious he was into it when he pulled his shirt up and off to allow access to his bare skin. You giggled at him a bit, he wouldn’t ever ask you to do this but you knew it was one of his favorite things. You also knew that it was a sure way to put him to sleep and when soft snores occupied the silence in the room, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. His arms were wrapped completely around you, pinning you underneath him and you certainly weren’t complaining. His face was so peaceful, free from constraint and worries of ridicule.
Just as sleep began lulling your senses, you heard footsteps approach your door. You peaked up as the door was cautiously cracked open to reveal the Captain. He was careful when peering into the room, not wanting to interrupt any specific activities that may be taking place in private. His eyes settled on a sleeping Killer and he seemed somewhat relieved. You didn’t know what you’d expected him to do, but you definitely didn’t think he’d kick his boots off and take up the only available space left on the bed.
You threw some playful punches at Kidd’s shoulders, aiming to tease him while preventing him from waking Killer. He grabbed your wrist and easily overpowered your movements. He’d positioned himself to face Killer and put your hand on top of his head.
“Scratch.”, he demanded while closing his eyes, looking to take a nap.
“I don’t really feel like it.”, you teased again, pulling the goggles from his head.
“I didn’t ask. Scratch my damn head… Please…”, he mumbled, knowing he’d get what he wanted if he asked somewhat nicely.
Your intentions were to pamper Killer but Kidd’s addition wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Killer would likely be more satisfied being able to relax alongside the man he loved like a brother. Where there was one, there was always the other. Sometimes it felt like they were two halves of the same whole, existing in tandem with one another. Either way, you were just happy to be a part of it all.
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 10 months
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Poly!Larissa x Morticia x Reader with the shapeshifting and all, if you don’t want to do it just let me know cause I know some of the request can make people feel uncomfortable.
😊
Hey hey hey anon! I am absolutely comfortable with writing this 🥰 Thank you for requesting it! Had some inspiration from one of @prettyprettyprettybaby ‘s posts on this one. Hope you Enjoy 💞
Some Fun… ~Poly!Morissa xFem Reader
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Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, threesome, semi-public sex, pet names, praise kink, shapeshifted d!ck, g!p fucking, eating out, implied exhibitionist kink…?, implied future smut, etc.
Enjoy (;
You weren’t one to usually got to restaurants and such especially not alone, but tonight you had spontaneously decided to go wine and dine yourself.
That’s how you ended up in this high end Italian place, known for their wine. So with a glass of red wine in your hand and having already eaten, you were spending your night away in this fancy place.
The bell of the door rang, indicating someone had walked in. You turned your head slightly to see who walked in, and your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. In walked a tall, blonde goddess accompanied by another less tall, raven haired goddess.
They say a few table away from you but you had a direct cross view. They only ordered salads and then went straight to wine. Your eyes kept fluttering to them. You tried to stop staring, but you were finding it extremely difficult…
A little while later, the women began to get up to leave. A part of you was saddened that they were leaving your presence. But you were even more stunned when instead of going to the exit, the women started to approach you. The raven haired woman took a seat across from you, and the blonde stole a chair from another table to sit adjacent to both of you.
“Um… hi…?” You stuttered, your gaze flickering back and forth from woman to woman in a frenzy.
“We understand that this is not customary, but you see, we saw you staring, Darling, and we thought we might come introduce ourselves…” the blonde spoke with the most sinfully delicious British accent ever.
You gulped and nodded with a strong blush.
“I’m Morticia and this is my partner, Larissa, and we’re in an open relationship…” the raven haired goddess spoke with a sultry tone.
“Oh…?” You chocked out, setting your wine down.
“And we thought from your lingering gaze, Darling, that you might be interested…” Larissa purred.
Your mouth went dry and your breath hitched. Then both women got up. Your eyes frantically looked back and forth. Then Larissa leaned down to the shell of your ear.
“Meet us in the bathroom in 10 minutes if that is indeed the case…” she husked.
~~~
Those was the longest fucking 10 minutes do your life. You stared at the clock intently, and as soon as the clock hit minute 10, you scurried to the women’s restroom. There was only one stall and so you knocked.
“It’s me…” you spoke in a hushed tone.
The door swung open and a creamy, strong hand pulled you in, closing and locking the door behind you. You were slammed against the bathroom door, the raven haired woman’s lips smashing against yours. You moaned into the kiss with need. The blonde was leaning against the door, drinking in the show unfolding before her. At one point, you both pull away breathless from the heated kiss.
“I want to feel her…” Larissa lustfully husked, taking Morticia’s place and trapping you flush against the door.
You gasped as your hips instinctually started grinding against her now very apparent bulge.
“Want to feel your walls fluttering around me, Darling…” Larissa groaned.
You bit your lip and nodded eagerly.
“Please please…” you chanted.
The both of you stripped down to your bras quickly. Morticia helping the blonde with the zipper of her dress and you currying to removed your pants and knickers. With the final throw to the side of Larissa’s knickers, your eyes widened as you got a full look at the woman’s hardened cock. Your needy eyes fluttered back up to the blonde.
Larissa didn’t even take the time to shoot you a teasing quip about your lingering gaze. No, she tapped her sides, indicating for you to jump up, where your legs straddled her waist and she held you against the wall while lining her veiny cock up with your throbbing cunt. She slipped into your heat with ease, causing a throaty moan to escape from your lips.
“God yesssss—” you hissed, Larissa’s dick filling you up in a deliciously overwhelming way.
Morticia was right next to both of you, now teasing her own cunt, moaning at the sight of the two of you. With the pressure of you being pressed between the blonde and the wall, Larissa began thrusting into you.
“Harder, faster Larissa please…” you whimpered, dying of her slow, torturous pace.
Larissa smirked at your plea, looking over to Morticia who was grinning like a Cheshire Cat and nodding eagerly.
“Alright, but you’ll have to stay quiet, Darling…” she breathily purred, “Can you do that…?”
You bit your lip and nodded eagerly.
“Words, Sweet girl…” Morticia warily purred.
Your eyes widened and your breath hitched.
“Yes yes, I can take it please—!!” You whimpered.
At this, Larissa’s lips crashed into yours, before she was pounding into you relentlessly. She pulled away from the kiss only to start marking your neck and shoulders. But you couldn’t keep quiet… Whimpers, moans, and mewls escaped your lips, as the blonde pounded into you without mercy. Morticia hushed you and her hand snaked up to your mouth, covering your helpless moans up tightly.
“Gotta be quiet, sweet girl…” she hummed.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
Oh Shit—!!
You began panicking. But the two women were ahead of you. And the blonde didn’t stop pounding into you. Your screams were muffled by the raven haired woman’s hand.
“Shhhhh, we’re not going to stop for a mere stranger, hmmm Mon Amour…?” She purred.
Larissa chuckled darkly, “Oh no, not gonna stop until we’ve filled our pet up with my cum, so deep she’ll be having my baby…”
You let out a particular leud moan now, the idea of being caught along with being bred.
“I can feel your walls clenching harder and harder, Darling…” Larissa groans.
“Oh my, does being caught turn out pretty, little pet on…?” Morticia taunts, her eyes blackened fully with lust.
You nod vigorously, nuzzling your head in the blonde’s shoulder to muffle your screams. All of this being enough to send you over the edge unexpectedly. You came with a violent spasm and many muffled cries. And Larissa was quick to climax after you, filling you up all the way. Morticia followed right after that, riding out her high on her own fingers.
From there, Larissa slid out of you, catching you as your legs buckled. You looked around and found the raven haired woman was sitting on the counter with her legs spread out wide.
“Be a Good pet and eat me out…” Morticia purred.
“Yes Ma’am…” you panted.
You nodded vigorously and crawled over to the raven haired goddess, placing your hands of her creamy thighs and diffing your tongue deep inside her soaked pussy. The woman’s hand snuck it’s way into your hair, pushing you further into her cunt. You worked Morticia up to the edge quickly and with skill. And she came with a leud groan, which Larissa quickly silenced by smashing her lips to Morticia’s. You happily lapped up all of the raven haired goddesses juices, before meeting your own lips with hers.
The three of you were a panting mess as you hurriedly cleaned up in order to let the next person have the bathroom. You said your goodbyes, Morticia taking one last heated kiss from your lips and Larissa pecking each of your cheeks lovingly.
Then the two women left first. And you followed out after five minutes. When you went back to your table, you found that your bill had been paid and that Larissa had left her business card with her number and a note that read,
Don’t be afraid to call, Darling <33
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
Morticia Addams Masterlist
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 11 months
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❝ Take my soul (need control) ❞
slashers dating slasher reader | erratic!slasher!male!reader | fluff, smut | graphic description of violence, brief mention of animal cruelty in Brahms H. section, mentions of nsfw things |
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Amanda Young | Brahms Heelshire | Corey Cunningham | OG!Michael Myers | RZ!Michael Myers | poly!Ghostface (Stu Macher, Billy Loomis) | Sinclair brothers
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as a preface, (Y/N) is implied to be erratic and unhinged as a slasher. their s/o's are the only ones who can calm them.
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Amanda Young (Saw) -
You didn't fit in her future.
At least, that's what Amanda's initials thoughts are when you two stared down each other from across the parking lot, panting as you held your weapons.
She's heard of you through the news. The infamous (slasher name), the monster that lurks in the shadows and savagely crushes anyone who had the misfortune of wounding up as their victim.
Your methods were unlike hers. Not calculated, not planned, not meticulous - completely erratic, like a hurricane.
But she needs the man that one of you has knocked out in your scuffle. While you? You just saw him walking past you while he was making his way to his car and decided he'd die tonight. She stiffens and reaches back for the gun she brings for emergencies as you straighten up but finds herself bewildered as you begin laughing maniacally.
"Have 'im, Ms Piggy" She sees your grip loosen on your weapon and her fingers uncurl from the handle of the gun. "Ya' clearly need 'im more than I do" and just like that, you're gone. The only thing she hears is her own breathing and her racing heartbeat.
Amanda is feverish about finding you. She reads everything she can and scours wannabe psychos and sociopaths' blogs dedicated to your crimes. (slasher name) becomes an obsession.
When you meet again, you find 'Miss Piggy' eyeing the interiors of your home. She's unsure of what she feels as she imagines you moving about the space but she smiles when you begin chuckling like a hyena and reach for the knife you had on you.
"I need your help, (Y/N)"
"Will it be fun?"
Amanda's smiling under her mask. She's seen your research of her work. The newspaper clippings, paint (or blood) of your theories on the wall (among other 'deranged' scribbles) you were familiar with her.
"Wouldn't have asked if it wasn't".
Fun was an understatement. You were a wildcard, someone that could cost her this entire game but the carnage you spread was so beautiful...she wasn't sure if any device or game she sets up could compare.
You two end up working with each other more and more. Your unpredictability makes the FBI tear their hairs out - you were, ironically, the balance she needed in her scales.
When you two confess to each other, you're soaked in someone else's blood. She approaches you from behind, watching your shoulders and chest rise and fall.
You lick the blood from your lips, your smile stretching over your cheeks looking almost uncomfortable.
Her eyes flick to your lips then up to your eyes.
"Come 'ere, Miss Piggy" she leans in and you meet her halfway.
Most would argue that you would be the worst guy to be in a relationship with.
They're wrong.
Amanda knows the ins and outs of your twisted heart because you bare it to her as it beats for her in your palm.
She doesn't take advantage of it. Tests it? Sure, just to feel more secure, but never to the point where you doubt her love for her.
Amanda thinks your ingenuity and creative mind is her favourite part of you (among other things).
You've jokingly told her she could split your skull open to get those ideas fresh - she giggles and you gather her in your arms.
Amanda leaves the window of your bathroom unlocked. Just for you. She knows you need to 'hunt' sometimes and doesn't discourage it (though she makes sure you know her targets so you don't end up killing them). When you crawl back home, you make sure to shower first before you shuffle back into bed.
She tends to your wounds, scolding you only if she knows you could've avoided it in the first place. "More fun that way, 'Manda" she huffs "So you'd leave me forever just for more fun?"
She knows you're pretty screwed up in that brain box of yours, she's not above manipulating you to bend to her whims but she only ever does it out of love, (Y/N)!
She's highly protective of you. She'll ensure your identity is safe if there are any loose ends during your 'hunts'.
She can't lose you. You can't lose her. Both of you are monsters. Both of you belong together - can't live without the other.
If a victim manages to get an upper hand on either of you God help them.
The second one of you is in danger, the other only sees red.
You've literally taken several bullets for Amanda.
She was so gentle with you that night. Her kisses silent apologies. Seeing her cry as she looks down at you makes you move to sit - despite the pain and her protests. Her breath hitched as your tongue slithers in, Amanda's lips warmed by yours.
"You're hurt, (Y/N)" "Don't care, need you"
"You're hurt because of me!" her yell makes you tilt your head "I should've been more careful!" she continues.
"I want you, Amanda" you whine, cupping her weeping face in your hands. "I'll want you even if you hurt me, even if it kills me. Don't say no to me, Piggy?"
The nickname wins her over.
By the way, she calls you Froggy or Kermit (Kermy too!). It's cute.
(She buys green and pink items because they remind her of the two of you and you've gifted her two hearts that you'd cut in half, coloured pink and green and sowed together. She placed the gift on the desk she works on, it's displayed in a dome glass case and she fights back a smile every time she lays eyes on it)
The satisfaction she gets when victims scream as they spot you in the same room as them. Just so fucking proud of her killing machine.
When you go overboard, if the emotions get too overwhelming for you and you only think of how to get rid of the pain - Amanda grips the nape of your neck and pushes you onto your knees.
You bow because it's her. You breathe because it's her.
"(slasher name)" Your eye twitches, gaze still floating around the room but she knows she has your attention.
"You all there, Kermy?"
"I'm right here, Piggy".
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Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) -
Initially, you'd taken the babysitting job as a cover to lay low. Things were getting heated in (insert wherever you're from) and this secluded manor was perfect.
The sight of the doll didn't make you falter. Hey, you got a few screws loose yourself so you didn't judge the Heelshires for how they cope.
Brahms was intrigued by you from the second he laid his eyes on you. The way you instantly gathered the doll in your arms without an ounce of judgement makes butterflies flutter.
He is elated to know that there's a chance you won't freak out if you see him.
He quickly finds out you're not exactly the Average Joe.
You brought the rat traps inside, he inches closer to the hole in the wall when you suddenly froze. The rat squeaks furiously and your non-dominant hand idly reaches for the drawers. Brahms did not expect you to pull out a meat tenderizer.
There's a mix of emotions in the boy as he skitters to his room. He laid awake that night, a part of him wondering if you were just like him and the other feeling guilt at the excitement.
His parents tried their best to nurture him into a decent man. Even if it didn't work, their voices still linger in his head but when he sees the tender way you cradle the porcelain extension of himself the next morning? Your voice sickly sweet, lips pressing into the cold temple of the doll?
Brahms craves you.
Malcolm, poor, stupid, Malcolm.
Brahms wasn't the only one that wanted him gone. The only reason you reciprocated his advances was to fulfil a different type of lust.
(Malcolm wasn't your type anyways.)
Brahms's nails nearly break as he digs them in the wood of the walls, breath labouring as anger consumes him. Malcolm was on top of you, unworthy hands gripping at you like you were some common whore.
He's moved from behind the walls to the closet when you're on top of him. The grip of the 'missing' meat tenderizer was so tight his hand was trembling.
Malcolm yells in pain and Brahm pauses as he watches you laugh in pure delight as you dig your thumbs inside Malcolm's eye sockets.
You turn to him, smile still etched on your features and Brahms gulps as you bring your thumb to your mouth to suck the blood and gore clean.
"Cute mask"
The kitchen utensil drops with a comical 'THUD!' while you two stare at each other.
Your relationship falls into a steady, domestic, pace much quicker than both of you anticipated. How could they not? The secluded land was beautiful when the weather wasn't so dreary. Even if it was, the grand fireplaces were extremely nice to cosy up next to. It's hard NOT to fall deeper and deeper into each other when everything was so romantic.
Malcolm's death was covered up thanks to the wild animals on the land. Brahms watches from the window as you whistle, beckoning the scavengers as you spread a few of Malcolm's innards around.
You tell him everything about your kills. Effectively burying his parent's voice in his head as you sink him deeper and deeper into your hell.
"You're beautiful just like this, Brahmsy" he pants from beneath the mask and you place a kiss on those cold lips. "They won't understand like I do, we're meant to be like this so we can find each other" his pupils are so blown out as he stares up at you.
"You're my good boy, Brahms, forever and always. Okay?"
"Okay, (Y/N)". Your smile was sculpted by the king of hell himself and Brahm's eyes roll back as you move your hips.
Brahms feels vindicated and free. For once, guilt doesn't whisper accusingly in his shadow. Instead, there's you.
Your routines overlap his. Your hands pull him from the darkness. Your voice haunts him every second of every day.
The bodies pile up in the woods. The rats are scarce with the sudden spike of scavengers drawn to the Heelshire manor.
You love spoiling him with victims, love watching him release his creativity and curiosity. He's so good with his hands and all that raw strength? It's not an odd sight for you to make love in the showers after 'play time' was done.
He loves helping you freak the shit out of your victims, pretending to be the ghost in the walls and making them so paranoid they think they've gone crazy.
When they're dealt with, Brahms often makes snacks for the both of you.
Oh! He makes a mask for you. To show his love and for you to wear when you need it.
He doesn't like that you leave the manor. It causes BIG arguments. Vintage vases flying to the wall kind of arguments. But you were a bloodthirsty hound, you needed to stretch your legs.
He'll be sullen but he gets over it. This routine annoys the shit out of both of you though but over time, he learns you need it just as much as he needs his quiet times.
He welcomes you when you get home, lifting his mask to kiss you and you giggle as your hands slide up his wifebeater.
"Miss me, big boy?"
"Always" he pouts.
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Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends) -
Corey knew before you did.
You were just like him. The darkness spills from your eyes as you tell him how the front of your car got wrecked.
"A deer scared you?" he wipes his hands on the front of his uniform, turning to you as you nod and stroke the large dents and scratches on your hood. "Swerved into the woods, didn't hit a tree head-on - Thank God, right?" Corey nods.
He pretends not to see the splatter of blood and hoses down the hair and chunks of flesh from your tires.
Guessed you missed a spot, hm?
He's good at being undetected. People...people avoid him nowadays.
You don't have to ask around much to learn about the cute, outcasted, mechanic's past. You find it all a bit pathetic. These people were really that terrified of him over what sounded like an honest mistake?
Corey wonders why you've gone to Allen's family's abandoned house during his nightly routine of stalking you.
He watches you from the windows, knife in hand though with no real intent of using it...on you anyways. Blood had already stained the blade.
You pause at the sight of dried blood and gaze up the spiralling staircase. Much to his chagrin, you lay down and place your head right on the bloodstain.
Your laughter makes blood pool under the skin of his cheeks. Your hands splay out to your side and you're laughing so hard your sides hurt, Corey finds himself pressing a hand to the window and wishes he was right beside you.
The next day, Corey's parked right out of the supermarket just as you come out. He grins boyishly and you ask if he needs anything. He holds himself back from saying "you" and instead asks if you're free tonight.
You don't expect him to be so forward but you're intrigued. So you ask if he'll be the one to pick you up (considering your car is still in his garage) and Corey pretends to be interested as you write down your address as he imprints the sight of your semi-focused expression. He already knows where you live but you don't have to worry about that, (Y/N).
The night was perfect from the get-go. Your warmth pressed against his back as he drove the two of you to a bar that was further away than usual but was the only one he could go to without people whispering — you don't mind.
Then drinks got involved and suddenly you're dancing with him, some shitty pop song playing over shitty speakers but neither of you cared.
Then reality came crashing in. Someone had loudly — drunkenly — mentioned Corey's past. Everyone gives him looks and although he could care less he pretends to by pulling you out of the bar.
"Corey, wait" he's too drunk to drive and his hands are itching to feel blood so he pauses as you chuckle the command out. "Stay here, baby" The nickname makes his heart flutter and he nods as he leans against his bike. When you disappear back into the bar — probably left something, he thought — he curses and tries his hardest not to storm in and strangle the life out of that asshole who ruined his date and the closest bar he could go to without reproachful glares.
He contemplates the thought of moving away from Haddonfield with you when his phone rings. It's you. For a second, he thinks you're in trouble but when he answers you're breathless pants of glee tells him otherwise.
"Come to the back, Corey".
The sight that greets him is the asshole with a bleeding mouth and a broken nose. The burst veins in his eyes and the wooden plank that you held loosely in your arm paint a clear picture.
"Night's still young, baby" you muse as you make a faux swing that makes the man whimper from where he was sprawled on the ground. "I know you wanna" Your purr makes Corey shudder.
The Cheshire grin on your face is absolutely maniacal as Corey sheds his jacket and pulls out the pocket knife he kept in his back pocket.
The same one you'd felt against your thighs when you were riding his bike.
Haddonfield was lucky the two of you decided to spread your chaos elsewhere because the two of you were insatiable.
The fact that neither of you stayed in one city for too long also didn't help. You were basically doing an American-wide murder spree.
And Corey would not have it any other way.
You were just like him — wilder, sure, but you understood him in ways no one else had ever done.
"Fuck, baby" Corey has you on the bed of some engineer whose blood was currently being used as lube. The man's body was somewhere in the room but Corey barely gave a shit when you're looking down at him with that toothy grin that makes your eyes twinkle with bloodlust. "Mm, you feel so fuckin' good, Corey".
Somehow you two decide to settle down in a quiet town. Corey going under a different name as he works at a garage. Everybody around you thinks you guys are the sweetest couple — cooing at how young you are and sighing about young love.
They don't know that your weekend trips are spent with blood, guts, and sex. Two maniacs completely enamoured with one another.
"Baby, look" Corey eyes the silver band on your finger. Then the other one is on your palm as you extend it to him. You drop the chopped-off hand of the man the both of you had just killed and inched closer and closer.
"Pretty, hm?" he nods "Till death do us part" At that, he scoffs and pulls you in closer.
"Not even Death can keep us apart, (Y/N) (L/N)" he brushes the tip of your noses together and plants a bloody kiss but your giggle cuts it short.
"Don't you mean, (Y/N) Cunningham-(L/N)?" Corey's grin is nothing short of loving and he claims your lips again.
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OG!Michael Myers (Halloween (1978 - 1982)) -
To be completely honest, the way you two met was a blur. Before you met Michael Myers your life had little to no meaning.
When he decided to break into your family home one night, he jump-starts everything. He had you pinned on the dining table, his mask already coated with the blood of your kin. Your feeble attempts at escaping his inhumanely strong grip leave you gasping for breath and you're sure that the building pressure in your head isn't a good sign.
But when you stare into Michael's eyes a sudden force tugs your lips apart into a bloody smile. Your laughter is nothing but strained gasps and squeaks and it makes Michael's grip falter enough for you to finally grasp the make-shift stake beside you (from the chair he'd thrown your way) and drive it into his shoulder.
Michael staggers and without missing a beat, you're lunging at him again. No fear, no hesitation, and frankly, no thoughts behind such a brash action.
The force of your body slamming into him throws his momentum off but he feels something in his chest suddenly beat as your shrill laughter fills his ears.
You, with your wild hair and wilder eyes...
Michael craved you.
He knocks you out.
Then, he watches you. From your recovery in the hospital to the 'safehouse' you were placed in. The detectives thought this could be their chance — to finally catch Michael Myers as he 'finishes you off'.
Michael knows you're done with your kill just from the shift in the air. He enters the safehouse and stares at the splatters of blood and bullet holes in the drywall. He follows the sounds of your laughter and finds you in the dining room in a familiar pose.
You have the detective pinned under you, fingers crushing his larynx as he weakly fights back against you. Michael waits politely, when you're done he moves to the back door and you wordlessly follow.
Eating rats was new but strangely enough the act of catching them was a great bonding activity. Your jokes about meeting the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles — and eating them — fly over Michael's head but his amused silence tells you he doesn't mind your babbles.
He learns fairly quickly that, unlike his silent, effortlessly, intimidating self, you're erratic, loud and pumped with energy when you're hunting.
He doesn't dislike it but it takes some getting used to.
You don't always go on hunts together but when you do he appreciates your gore-y creativity.
The Shape of Haddonfield now has Hellhound by his side — isn't that a cute nickname for yourself, (Y/N)?
While victims shit themselves at the sight of Michael, his stony demeanour is what makes him all the more Boogeyman-worthy. He feels inhuman. That both terrifies and comforts some — but you?
You're entirely too human. Your glee, your rambles as you stab your victims, you're laughter full of excitement.
"Mikey" he glances your way as your fingers stroke up the neck of his mask. Here you were, sprawled all over Michael Myer's lap like a goddamn kitten. You lean up and kiss his rubbery lips, he hums as your tongue licks his mask and pushes you back just enough to lift his mask above his nose.
"Thank you, Mikey" you chuckle, letting him taste the romantic spaghetti dinner you two had helped yourselves to after murdering the old couple.
Their home was isolated enough, that both of you could enjoy living above ground for a few days.
"You taste so good, Mikey" The grip on your waist makes that addictively sweet laughter bubble in your throat.
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RZ!Michael Myers (Halloween (2007 - 2009))-
You were the only good thing in his god-forsaken life.
The mental institution had made a big mistake in housing two monsters — especially when those monsters were always so drawn towards each other.
No matter what punishments they inflicted on either of you for sharing glances. It did little to stop this undeniable, instinctual, need to be close to one another.
Initially, the doctors had thought Michael's curiosity was a good sign. A sign that he was showing interest in making friends. Even if you were less than ideal in terms of 'fixing' him considering your own streak of homicide (that landed you in this shithole in the first place) but they were desperate.
So, they allowed controlled meetings. Michael's stare terrified others but you seemed to thrive under his attention.
Guards had reached out to pull you back as you climbed the table and got right up in Michael's face but he is as still as a statue as you carefully brush his long locks of blonde hair back.
"There you are, pretty boy" and with those words and your eyes that reflect back his darkened soul right back at him — Michael is smitten.
When he escapes, he finds you.
When he enacts his revenge, you're the shadow that devours any sacrificial lambs that managed to stray from his grasp.
Oh, he's all yours.
Michael swears that if you're not near him the air feels thinner.
He relishes in the way you mercilessly slaughter anyone in your way — he doesn't ask why you kill but knows that whatever the answer he'll support his batshit insane boyfriend.
"Is this for me?" he nods, showing you the new mask he'd created. You smile warmly, sitting across from him as you carefully place the mask on your face.
"How do I look, pretty boy?"
He places his large hand on your thighs and begins tapping. You encourage him with careful strokes to his bicep.
.--. .-. . - - -.--
Your grin makes his heart flutter. "Thank you, baby" and you reward your darling lover with a kiss which makes him grunt at the mask that blocks him from properly kissing you.
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Billy Loomis & Stu Macher (Scream (1996)) -
They had an inkling you were just like them.
Billy says it's the way your eyes become devoid of any light when you're angry. While Stu tells you it's the way you lick the blood from your split lip and smile as you lunge at the opposing team's captain.
(Y/N) (L/N), an athlete of their school.
Meanwhile, to his boyfriends, he's an absolutely merciless murderer.
Everyone sort of avoids you. Even your coach rarely gets in your face to yell at you the way he does at everyone else. It baffles people that Billy and Stu are your lovers.
For them though? It's the perfect match.
You're not Ghostface, however, (slasher name) is always spotted with Ghostface.
A maniac with brute strength that takes hits and stabs and even bullets without going down.
Those who did live to tell the tale of an encounter with (slasher name) and Ghostface mutter that hurting Ghostface? Was a big fucking mistake if (slasher name) is there to witness it.
You're the kind of guy to body slam someone out a second-storey window and just walk it off while the victim who cushioned your fall is wheezing their last breath.
Billy reprimands your unnecessary displays of brutality while Stu simply gushes about how cool it was. They both tend to your wounds, kissing and massaging anything that hurts.
Ghostface is equally as protective of you, make no mistake, even if they're not throwing a chair at a victim they will ensure you don't actually get yourself killed in your bloodlust.
Stu has pulled a gun and shot someone in the face when they threatened to do the same to you.
Billy rushes to the two of you upon hearing gunshots but groans in relief as he sees you making out with Stu mere inches away from the body.
"Hey! Earth to perverts! Time to scram!" Billy is pulled into the make-out session by you and he all but melts under your hold.
"Want you. Now" Stu laughs at your huffy tone but eagerly circles his hands around your waist while you pull Billy closer to your front.
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Beauregard 'Bo' Sinclair (House of Wax) -
A new victim of Ambrose? That's what you are, right?
Wrong.
You'd been a solo traveller that coincidentally got grouped up with another group of travellers. You seemed normal enough, Bo thinks as he spots you making your way to his garage.
Cute and handsome, a darn shame you'd have to die but at least Vincent will immortalize your beauty.
He notices that you're not close with the others. When he asks, you explain your vehicles had broken down near each other so Lester rounded up all of you together.
You lean on the hood of the car he was clearly working on, jutting your hips and looking impressed. He shamelessly takes in the curve of your butt before putting on a charming Southern smile when you glance back at him.
"Good with your hands, hm?" Bo feels blood travel south but he just chuckles. The conversation is cut short by the others clearing their throats.
When he kills the group one by one, he immediately notices that you seem excited at the violence he spreads. You don't scream or yelp but you're helping him.
At first, he thinks you're just saving your ass from getting sliced down when you push someone in front of you. But while the others run, you're moaning as he's thrusting the blade repeatedly into the man's body.
He pants as you two make eye contact, gulping he pulls the blade out and offers it to you.
"Fuckin' finally" you coo, pressing a bloody kiss on his cheek before you slip to hunt the others down.
His brothers are definitely confused by his decision to let you stay as a real residence of Ambrose but after another group rolls in you prove your worth to them.
Between heated moments under the sheets and lip-locking with Bo, you confess that the reason you ended up at Ambrose was that the police were hot on your tail.
"It's fate," you say as you trace circles on his chest. "We were meant to meet, to be family" he would usually scoff at such a notion but the way you fit into his deranged life so easily...
"It's something", he gruffs out, watching as you take the lighter from his hand to light the cigarette between his lips. "Whatever it is, it brought you to me so"
"Aww, Bo, you gettin' sappy on me?" your teasing makes him threaten to shove the cigarette in your mouth but you just laugh it off.
"Love ya', Bo" he averts his eyes but mumbles.
"Love you too..."
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Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax) -
Instead of catching Bo's eyes, it's Vincent's heart that you grasp.
A solo traveller that somehow got roped in with another group, a victim of circumstance is what Vincent would have called you.
But instead, you've ruthlessly wormed your way inside his heart.
While the others ran like headless chickens when Bo started killing, you were dragged by another girl to hide in the Sinclairs' house. Stupid move on her end really, but you were curious about their headquarters of sorts. So you follow, breathing raggedly to sell this whole 'helpless victim' façade.
You find the basement. Despite the chills that run down your spine from the scent of death (and wax) you convince her it'd be a good place to hide.
Vincent hears her as she shakily steps into his lair. He thinks she's the only one but finds it odd that she looks desperately over his shoulder as he slices her head off with a pair of garden shears.
Until he feels a blade pressed right at the base of his spine.
"You're pretty strong" Your eyes twinkle from the corner of his and he goes rigid as you dig the tip of the blade deeper. You reach to brush locks of his hair behind his ear, a growl raises from his throat but you shush him.
Your lips brush on the shell of his ear.
"I'll bring more of them here, I want to watch while you turn them into pieces of art".
Bo is feeling an inkling of worry at the sudden lack of victims. He rushes to see if they've decided to overwhelm Vincent and finds you swinging your feet while Vincent is organizing the bodies of the group.
Bo is distrustful. He thinks you've seduced his twin and while that is true, you've no bad intentions like he thinks you do.
Vincent is painfully awkward compared to your nonchalant energy. But it works, the two of you just work.
He scolds you when you get new wounds from the victims fighting back but it's a bit hypocritical when he does the same.
Though he prefers wax figures, he did dabble in oil paints again as he attempts to recreate the scene he sees of you demolishing victims.
A watcher, a stalker; an artist.
Vincent usually stays in the basement but ever since you came? When the hunt is on, he's watching you. Imprinting the image of your body shaking with muffled laughter as you pull your jaws away from the bleeding neck of a victim, spitting out their vocal cords with a satisfied hum.
"Vinnie" your coo makes him flinch but he walks out from the shadows as you beckon him with your hand. Your boyfriend stands in front of you, reaching to wipe some blood away from your cheek but really the only thing he does is move it around.
"Was that pretty, Vinnie?" he huffs through his nose and lifts your chin up so you stain his waxy lips with warm blood.
He pulls away to sign, 'Always beautifull'.
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Lester Sinclair (House of Wax) -
You rode with him on the way to Ambrose.
He's taken by your looks and feels a sense of pity and regrets that you'd be dead soon. Especially since you were the only one among the others that weren't a complete asshole to him.
"Ambrose, huh" he nods, tapping his steering wheel as his eyes flit between the road and you. "Must be pretty secluded, haven't even heard of it", he laughs and tells you it's because you aren't from around here.
"See ya'" he waves at you but you scan him from head to toe in a way that's not scrutinizing but lustful. He feels his cheeks warm, you nod to him as a goodbye before you turn to walk into the death trap that is Ambrose.
He's surprised to find you covered in blood and right outside his shack later that night. Jonesy growls near his heel but you were just sitting there on his porch, casually testing the weight of the hilt of a hatchet in your hands.
"Your brothers should use you more than a glorified Ferryman" he is confused but tense. His muscles are rigid like a snake coiling to bite.
Blood drips from the ends of your hair and nose, you place the hatchet down and crouch, beckoning Jonesy' with a sweet baby voice that has the poor pup confused between staying by Lester's side or sniffing you.
"I like Ambrose," you tell him, your eyes squished into an adorable crescent shape.
"Can I stay, Lester?"
His brothers aren't aware of you until at least a week. They were extremely distrustful of you, their baby brother was someone that they did not want to be harmed. Hence why he stays out of the nitty-gritty of it all.
When you show that you're just as protective of Lester, they approve of your relationship. Not that you would let their approval get in the way of your love for him anyways.
Your boyfriend has to get used to your sudden disappearances and reappearances.
And he has to learn how to stitch you up as well. He doesn't scold you though reminds you to be more careful but drinks up your stories of the victims being crushed under your foot.
Whoever manages to stray far enough from Ambrose to find Lester's shack will find themselves in an entirely different but just as torturous hell.
Jonesy enjoys the raw feed though.
"I gotta go" Lester laughs as you whine and drag him back to your side. "I gotta check if anyone's 'lost'" he reminds but you stubbornly shake your head.
"Can't leave me, I'm hurt and defenceless"
Yeah, Lester's seen you shove the end of a rake down someone's throat with a broken arm and a concussion all while laughing. You could protect yourself with the scrapes and boo-boos from the night before just fine.
Feeling yourself lose this battle, you press a kiss to the nape of his neck as he sits and it makes his breath hitch.
Your hands circle his waist and his head hangs low as you slip your fingers down the band of his underwear.
"Stay" you plead.
"Jesus H. Christ" he turns and you grin triumphantly as he kisses you.
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yanderes-galore · 1 year
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I Simp for peach and bowser XD now I’m wondering how would it go if their were Yandere rivals who trying to win the reader hand in married 🤣 would their still be rivals or work together and come a poly 😝
I am such a Bowser fan so sure, lol. I need to give Peach some attention on here anyways. This is general but leans more game-based.
Yandere! Peach vs Bowser
Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Mentions of marriage, Forced marriage, Rivalry, Jealousy, Obsession, Forced relationship implied, Violence.
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This is actually a pretty neat pairing.
You most likely knew Peach first and you're a "human" (?) like her.
You are close friends with the princess and her valiant heroes, Mario and Luigi.
Her obsession would be more likely to spark first as she doesn't need to kidnap you to fall for you.
You just visit her castle for chat and she can't help but fall for your voice.
Peach often plans to bake you cakes and you two are usually seen alone.
You just like to think you're best friends with the princess, completely unaware of her dark intentions when she looks at you.
You're so innocent... you don't have a clue she intends to marry you in the future.
Peach would be Manipulative, Caring, Obsessive, Delusional, Patient, Protective, yet Temperamental at times.
This is different than Bowser, who's Possessive, Impatient, Protective, Caring, Persistent, and Intimidating.
Although the two DO share the Protective and Caring trait despite their differences.
Due to them sharing this trait, when the rivalry eventually starts, they theoretically could share.
That's challenged by Bowser's impatient and possessive trait, however.
How this may start is with Peach, as said before.
The princess had fallen for you when she first met you.
You had helped the Mushroom Kingdom a few times before from other threats such as Bowser.
You didn't often fight but you did hand the two plumber brothers info you could snag.
Since then you often visited Peach, either invited or checking in to make sure she's safe.
Peach finds your care for her flattering.
You don't just care for her as a princess... you care for her as a close friend and ally.
The princess often tries to make herself look her best around you and always asks what your favorite treats are.
If you don't like cake she tries to practice making other things.
Peach is a yandere who thrives on physical contact.
Expect to be bombarded with hugs and friendly kisses on the cheek or forehead as greeting.
It's her form of getting the hint across.
Peach often bribes you to stay in her castle, using the excuse of you making her feel safe.
Peach would he manipulative due to the power she has in her kingdom.
If she did ask for your hand in marriage, there's a lot of pressure on you.
For the most part Peach is subtle with her manipulation.
She wants to make you fall for her without forcing a betrothal first.
Peach is incredibly caring to your needs.
She has wealth and a spacious castle... completely surrounded by mushroom servants loyal to her orders.
Don't you feel at home here?
She can get you whatever you wish... all the gifts and affection you could ever want....
She's patient yet delusional.
If you turned her down when she asks for your hand, she excuses it as you being shy or nervous.
It's fine if you're not ready yet...
She can wait until you are!
Although... constant/frequent rejection can make her irritated.
She may hit a breaking point if you keep ignoring her.
Lastly, Peach is protective.
For good reason, too, as soon she'll realize she's not the only one in danger...
Turns out, Bowser doesn't want Peach as his little special one now.
Which should be a relief to the princess, right?
Wrong.
That's because she learns you're his new target.
Bowser's obsession probably starts more after he kidnaps you.
Maybe he met you when you were helping Mario and Luigi one time and couldn't stop thinking about you?
The Koopa King is lonely... normally he kidnaps Peach to help with that.
But maybe his attempts with you will be different?
This could go two different ways.
Bowser kidnaps just you...or he kidnaps Peach and you by accident, which sparks his obsession.
If he kidnaps just you, it becomes very similar to the Bowser concept here.
He intends to have you help with his children and keep him company.
He is awfully impatient with waiting for you to love him.
Once he's attached he dreads the idea of letting you go or giving you up.
He's also protective, especially when Mario and Luigi show up to take you back.
Despite his intimidating strength, height, and persistent behavior... he's caring.
He truly just wants affection, and unlike Peach, you may just give it to him.
He had no idea the reason Peach didn't reciprocate was because she liked you.
Bowser isn't mad at you for stealing Peach's attention... he understands, honestly.
But now he's mad at the princess, causing the rivalry.
If you were the only one kidnapped, Peach will help Mario and Luigi to save you.
Peach's determination surprised the brothers when she asked to help get you back.
They probably don't know how obsessive she is with you.
Peach is determined to drag you back from that overgrown lizard no matter what happens.
Meanwhile, Bowser is determined to defend you and your "relationship" with his life.
He's already planned a wedding outfit for the both of you and gave flowers!
Then there's if he accidentally kidnaps you both.
This way keeping you is unintentional, but Peach desperately pleads with Bowser not to hurt you.
So he relents and allows your presence.
This is another way he can become obsessed.
Originally he thinks Peach is the one for him.
He pours all of his affection and attention into Peach, said princess ignoring it in favor of pouring hers into you.
At first, Bowser doesn't notice the attraction Peach has for you.
That is until he falls for you and notices how Peach acts around you.
How could he be so blind?
Peach loves you... but you don't love her like that...
Which means he must have a chance!
Expect fighting when they both find out they have a crush on you.
It's mostly verbal but they certainly don't get along.
Peach screams that he'll hurt you by accident!
Bowser growls that she's been so rude to him, she has Mario and Luigi, why does she need to have you?
They both want to marry you, a choice that intimidates you.
Peach promises you'll be her adored royal consort in the Mushroom Kingdom!
Everyone will love you.
Bowser claims, with a bit of an ego, that you'll be the fearsome consort of his Koopa Kingdom!
Everyone will fear you and him!
Peach wants to dress you in white with fire flowers for your wedding...
Bowser wants you in white too, but with pirahna plants for your wedding...
They fight and fight.
When Mario and Luigi eventually show up for the rescue of you and the princess, they're met with the two arguing over you.
They're confused but try to rescue you both anyways.
Even if they shared they'd still have fights over wedding plans and lack of attention.
The two royals would probably war with each other over something as simple as who you like more.
Truth is, after what you've seen, you're scared of both.
It's best you move away or hide someplace, honestly.
If you run from them who knows when they'll stop chasing you.
This rivalry could tear kingdoms apart... it's best you try to stay out of it in the end.
"Love, why do you look so scared? Bowser's the bad guy here... I'm just trying to make you happy!"
"Dear, don't look so sad... our kingdom will be the best in the land with you on my side!"
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aphroditelovesu · 1 year
Text
Yandere Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)
"You are ours and we are yours. Always." - Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen.
🐉— lady l: this turned out to be bigger than I thought, but I liked it and I hope you guys like it too! While I normally try to keep the reader gender neutral, here I've made it female because it has NSFW content and because I'm a woman it's easier for me to describe and also because I think it fits the context better, but if you ignore the part of nsfw, you can imagine the reader as a man too. Ah, I used Rhaenyra's gif in the young phase because it makes more sense at the beginning of the headcanon, but in the end, I imagine Emma. Anyway, feel free to change it if you want. Sorry for any mistakes, feel free to correct me and feedback is always welcome! ❤️❤️
tw: yandere themes, obsessive and possessive behavior, described violence, Targaryen family incest, dub-con, implicit non-con, nsfw, smut, loss of virginity (i suck at nsfw), overprotection, implied torture, mention of murder, jealousy, unhealthy romantic relationships and polyamorous relationship.
🐉 pairing: Yandere!Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen x Female!Reader
🐉 word count: +2,3k.
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Rhaenyra and Daemon had always been a match, both had always been the perfect match in their own eyes. There were few who agreed with that statement, however, and you were one of them. You were born into one of the mighty houses of Westeros, this house, which swore loyalty to Rhaenyra when she ascended the throne, and that oath has endured all these years. Your life was completely normal, created to become some rich man's wife and bear him children, that's how you were raised and that's what you believed in, that is until the day Rhaenyra Targaryen laid eyes on you and claimed you, she made you her lady-in-waiting. You were confused by this choice, but you didn't question the princess. Unconscious to you, your future Queen decided she wanted to have you and she would have you.
From that day forward, you and Rhaenyra were always together, she attached to you like a koala, it didn't bother you however, the princess's company was pleasant. Since the two of you were always stuck together, that's how you met Daemon. At first he thought it was funny the way his niece clung to you, in an almost possessive way, but he could understand her feeling for you when he spent time with you. He didn't know what it was, but you had... something, something about you that managed to charm these two Targaryens and neither of them seems willing to let you go.
Rhaenyra, at first, noticing the way her uncle was looking at you, was nothing short of dissatisfied. You were hers. Hers to claim and care for, not Daemon's. You were her lady, her best friend and she wouldn't let them take you away from her, not like Alicent, her old friend, married her father. Because of her fear of you abandoning her, Rhaenyra explicitly forbade you to be alone with Daemon, not wanting him to seduce you in any way and she knew he could be quite convincing. You weren't very happy with that order, you enjoyed Daemon's company and you knew he would never hurt you, so you didn't understand her paranoia, but you didn't dare disobey her.
Daemon wasn't too happy with that order, but it's not like he cares, he does what he wants and when he wants and no one will stop him from having you, not even his beloved niece. Although he doesn't spend as much time in King's Landing, due to his differences with Viserys and the fact that he is constantly exiled, he still finds time to spend with you. Daemon really grew on you a lot, your voice soothed you and your gentle gaze always made him smile lovingly. He knows he cannot be separated from you, he just knows. Many already hate him, so he won't mind making more enemies, even if they are his own family, to keep you.
You've always loyally stood by Rhaenyra's side over the years and you have seen all kinds of situations, but you didn't expect what would happen when Daemon returned victorious from Stepstones. You weren't present at the time, as you were along with Rhaenyra in her search for suitors, but by the time Daemon finally saw you again, clinging to Nyra, he smirked and you fretted, wondering what sort of thing he was planning. Later that night, you finally figured it out. You were in the room with Rhaenyra, helping her get ready for bed, when she noticed a letter left on her desk and some clothes. When she read it and showed it to you, you cringed. Even though it wasn't signed, it was obvious to anyone that it belonged to Daemon and he asked the two of you to meet him outside the Red Keep. You thought the princess was going to refuse, but she told you to change and you were going to meet him.
Seeing the two of you, Daemon smiled and took you to different places in the city. You were disgusted at first, seeing what kind of thing you were witnessing, but Rhaenyra seemed fascinated, but soon became upset when she saw that show, you held her hand tightly, assuring her that the people would accept her as their Queen, whether they like it or not. She smiled at your affirmation, knowing she needed nothing more than your trust and love for her, Daemon shook his head and led you to parts unknown. Your breath was lost when he saw where you were, in a house of pleasures. You tried to convince them to leave, that you shouldn't be in a place like this, but Rhaenyra wouldn't listen, seeming too fascinated by the sights around her. You decided to close your eyes, trying to ignore the loud moans around you. Your eyes snapped open after feeling a kiss placed on your lips by none other than Rhaenyra. You were confused and embarrassed, this was wrong, two women shouldn't get involved. But she smiled and kissed you once more, under your uncle's piercing gaze. She told you how much she'd wanted you for ages and that it was finally time to claim you and that she and Daemon had agreed to share you. You were confused, until you remembered that you heard them talking in High Valyrian, realizing what they had finally talked about. You tried to argue, but ended up forgetting after being kissed fiercely by Rhaenyra and feeling Daemon's hands grab you by the hair, sucking on your neck and, for the first time in your life, you forgot who you were and what you were doing. You have decided to surrender for pleasure.
That night, pleasure numbed your minds. You ignored Rhaenyra's hands pulling free of your blouse ties and Daemon's pulling down your pants, you ignored everything and just contented yourself with being naked, clutching your princess's shoulders as you felt her kiss her breasts. While Rhaenyra was busy with your breasts, you moaned softly when you felt Daemon take your fingers to your intimacy, rubbing your entrance with his fingers and, after feeling you get wet with the stimulation, he penetrated a finger and after not receiving any complaints, he added another, making you moan his name. Rhaenyra stopped sucking your breasts and removed her own clothes, she took your trembling hands and brought them to her pussy. You blushed, but timidly penetrated two fingers inside her, and kissed her, muffling the moan of pleasure that she let out. The three of you stayed like that for a while, with you fingering her and Daemon fucking you with his fingers, but the situation changed when you felt Daemon's hard cock and he removed his fingers inside you, denying you an orgasm. You grumbled displeased, but Daemon turned you around and kissed you, asking if you wanted him. And by gods you wanted him, you were so turned on you knew you couldn't and didn't want to deny it, so you nodded and Daemon picked you up, carrying you to one of the brothel's separate rooms, with Rhaenyra right behind you. You were laid gently on the bed by him, with him right on top of you, kissing you and sucking on your neck. Rhaenyra, who didn't want to be left out, lay down beside you and claimed your mouth. Daemon positioned himself between your spread legs and slowly pushed himself inside you. You moaned loudly as you were penetrated, not used to that sensation, it was painful and you whimpered as you felt him penetrate you with a little more force, the pain spreading to your private parts. Rhaenyra dried some tears that were coming down from your eyes and decided to distract you, sitting on your face, so that you could lick her and that's what you did. Your tongue licked Rhaenyra's folds eagerly, which pleased the princess, who moaned your name louder and louder. The pain in between your legs eased considerably, and you could feel the pleasure prevail, Daemon was fucking you hard, rubbing your clit hard, pulling you closer and closer to orgasm, your moans were drowned out by Rhaenyra's who was getting closer to finish. closer to cum in your mouth. After Daemon entered you one last time, moaning your name loudly as he came inside you, Rhaenyra finally came in your mouth, her juices all over your face. Daemon rubbed your clit, finally making you come. The three of you remained there, clinging to each other and forgetting whatever consequences this night might bring. Unfortunately, you and Rhaenyra would have to return to the castle and reluctantly you did, accompanied by Daemon, but sadly for you, someone saw you, recognized the princess's silver hair and told someone who shouldn't know.
The next morning chaos ensued. Viserys heard about what you did and he wasn't happy. Daemon has been exiled again, and you have been sent back to your family in a last ditch attempt to preserve Rhaenyra's dignity. She was forced to marry Laenor, and even after she begged her father, you were not allowed to appear. Daemon and Rhaenyra were upset and furious, not only were they forced to stay away from you, you weren't even allowed to attend your best friend's wedding. It was a sad day for her, but knowing you weren't there for her only made it worse. Over the next few years, the three of you kept in touch through crows, crows' hidden commands from your parents, and Daemon married Laena and Rhaenyra had children with Laenor. You were hurt by these events but you knew you had no say in it and you just contented yourself with keeping company with your parents who wanted to find you a husband but that would be difficult, everyone has heard the rumors of what you did in King's Landing and it ruined your reputation.
But everything changed after the birth of Rhaenyra's third child and the three of you met again, after Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone with her children and husband, she summoned you and finally had you back in her arms. The two of you hold each other for several minutes, years of separation could not be repaired, but she was determined never to let go of you ever again. Rhaenyra insisted that the two of you share a room and you didn't object as you missed her and knew how possessive she was of you. Over the next few days, the two of you were even more inseparable than they used to be when you were young, but this time, Rhaenyra didn't try to hide her affection for you, she knew her children would never judge her and Laenor wouldn't mind, so has became very common sight to see her kissing you in public. Daemon and you would be reunited after Laena's death, during the funeral, and although he knew it wasn't cordial to do so, he held you tightly, ignoring all the eyes that were on you. The three of you were finally back together and, after a little getaway, were able to rekindle the flame of lust that had been lurking for so long. You knew what they were doing was wrong, especially during a funeral, but all the guilt was gone when you felt Rhaenyra's tongue in your pussy and Daemon's cock in your mouth.
Rhaenyra and Daemon convinced you to marry them, although you weren't of Valyrian descent and it was a bit strange a polyamorous marriage for you, you didn't deny it, how could you? You loved them and you knew they felt the same and it's not like you were going to marry someone else, they would never allowed it and it wasn't your wish to become some lord's trophy wife. The three of you sealed your union, shared blood and with loving and possessive words, being kissed by both of you, you knew there was no turning back now. You finally became theirs, body, mind and soul and they would never let you go even if you wanted them to.
Their possessiveness only increased after your marriage, both wanting you to get pregnant as soon as possible. Anyone who approached you would be glared at by Daemon and Rhaenyra. They've already been taken from you once and wouldn't let that happen again, so they're quick to get rid of anyone who might become a potential threat to your relationship. Everyone who has said bad things about you will have to deal with the fury of your husband and wife, they will be dealt with on a more... permanent way. Their overprotection with you is also huge, they fear that you will get hurt and they insist on having a trusted guard always by your side. They don't want you to get hurt or murdered.
Once the war started, you would be confined to their shared chambers, they couldn't let anything happen to you. Daemon would be adamant about you not having any sort of voice in this war, and Rhaenyra couldn't agree less. She had already lost a son she loved dearly and he couldn't lose you, you keep her sane and Daemon under control. If anyone wants to deal with them, the best way would be for you, after all, it's you they care about and love so much. Both would die and kill for you. You are their biggest weakness and an enemy could very well use that to their advantage. But if they try, they won't get very far, getting killed by Daemon and Caraxes. You would be grabbed by them, you are theirs and anyone who tries to take you from them will suffer a fate worse than death.
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Hiii! Can I ask for a reader that knows about all the gory stuff Baby and Otis do and maybe even try to do it themselves, but still sometimes get scared of horrors movies? I'm sure they'd be like wtf girl
Baby and Otis with an s/o who gets scared during horror movies
It’s poly Baby and Otis ya’ll, I hope you like it cause I think I fucking love it [gn reader, implied gore, sfw but also talking about murder so maybe not, but not sexual)
It’s a quiet night in at the Firefly house. There are four people in the basement, bound with duct tape and chained to the wall, that you had all brought in earlier. They fought more than the last few did and you all needed a break before playing with them.
When you walk into the kitchen, shirt soaked in blood, Mother Firefly cocks her head sympathetically. “I heard all the screaming out in the yard. These ones must be pretty tough.”
She suggests that you all watch a movie and get your strength back and pours oil in a pot on the stove for popcorn and you chat about her day until you hear them stomping up the stairs.
“That bitch tried to rip my hair out,” Baby says, fuming. “I’ll show her, I’ll rip her fuckin’ scalp off, I’ll fucking,”
“Baby I thought it might be a good idea if you kids took a little break and watched a movie, hmm? You know how y’all can be when you get too wound up.” She looks around at the three of you and you look away—things got out of hand a few weeks ago and, in a fit of rage, the three of you had killed someone in her room.
It wasn’t really your fault, you had all tried to explain, but the victim had escaped and ended up in her room and they had to kill her there on the spot. “And it had to be a group stabbing?” She’d said, eyebrows raised. “On my nicest rug?”
You’d all apologized and promised to control yourselves better in the future.
“Movie sounds like a good idea.” Otis mumbles.
“You go settle in then,” she says, “I’ll bring in popcorn when it’s ready.”
You went upstairs to get a blanket and when you came down Otis was sliding the VHS in.
You sit down next to Baby, who links her arm in yours and leans into your side, pulling the blanket over her bare, blood stained legs. Otis sits on the other side and puts an arm around you, not bothering with the blanket and preferring instead to pull your leg over his.
“The film which you are about to see is an account of the tragedy which befell a group of five youths,”
“Oh god, Otis is this gonna be scary?”
He looks at you with a blank expression.
“C’mon darlin’, we’re all tired, don’t start.”
“No, really, is it?”
“You’ve never seen Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”
“Oh you’ll love it, it’s one of my favorites.” She giggles.
A few minutes later another Firefly bringing in a big bowl of buttered popcorn and setting it on the coffee table. Then the tension starts building. “Don’t go in the house.” You squeak.
Baby gives you a sideways look but doesn’t say anything. You’re trying not to be scared but when you see the meat hook you have to turn your head and bury your face in Otis’ shoulder.
He pauses the movie and puts the hand not on your shoulder in your hair and pushes your head up to look at him.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“Sorry.” You say, shaking his hand off and facing the tv again. “I just get scared.”
Baby puts her chin on your shoulder and stares at you. “You kill people more creatively than Otis,” she tilts her head to look at him. “Nothin’ against you but you know it’s true,” He shrugs. “But you’re tense watching Texas Chainsaw?”
Otis picks up your hand and inspects it.
“Look at your fuckin’ hand. You have blood and tissue under your fuckin’ fingernails but you’re telling me you can’t watch a horror movie?”
“They’re tense, I like horror it just, I get scared.”
“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous.” Otis says, putting his head on your shoulder.
“Just give it a few minutes, you’ll love it.” Baby says. “Me and Otis will keep you safe.”
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loveundrwrld · 2 months
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Yan artists x artist.. reader
(One is a painter the other is a singer make up your mind)
hi anon! i hope that this lined up to what you were thinking of re: your request- you didn't specify a gender for the yans, so i made it a female painter yan, and a male vocalist yan. i also have the reader as someone who both is an artist as well a singer. i hope that that's alright with you!
poly yans- female artist yan x hobbyist gn reader x male vocalist yan
(cw: implied stalking, implied sabotage, dubiously consensual kissing, gaslighting (kinda?))
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- eva goes to your college, and she’s an art major. she’s a painter, and quite a good one.
- she’s a very serious, cold type of person. a straight-A student who acts better than others.
- in her eyes… it’s justified that she acts like she’s above all the rest. she knows her paintings will be shown in galleries, after all.
- her future is all planned out for her, with thanks to her parents. a wonderful childhood friend who’s become her wonderful boyfriend will become the perfect husband. the perfect internship she got will become the perfect first job.
- even though she’s assured a great future, she’s still very careful. she doesn’t want to risk her perfect plan, after all! so she's going to make sure that she does well in college too, so everything lines up well.
- she had seen you a few times around campus. you were bouncing around, talking to friends, not seeming to be taking anything seriously. you were in so many different clubs, with none of them having anything to do with your major. they were clearly just an excuse to spend more time around your friends, she thought.
- she didn't think you were the type of person that she would get along with. the opposite, in fact. you seemed too silly, too carefree. she couldn't imagine spending so much time out of classes just hanging out and not studying- it was like you weren't being careful about your future.
- then, she saw you in one of her classes- drawing 101. by chance, you were also taking it as one of your electives.
- she first internally scoffed at you for taking it as a non-art major. she pegged you in her head as someone she didn’t need to remember- someone who just thinks of art as a fun little side project, not as something worth consideration.
- in your class together she watched you draw from time to time, looking over to your sketch pad. you seemed to be struggling a bit with some things like perspective, but to her surprise, you showed clear potential. your artwork was really good for a non-art major. and you were improving fast.
- when the teacher said that the class was doing portraits for the next class assignment, eva picked you. it was out of curiousity, at the time. she wanted to see what you were like, and this was a good opportunity.
- you were to draw her, and she was to draw you. you both were to spend all of class staring at each other, basically. it was the best scenario for one to get to know each other better.
- and she did indeed get to know you better. she saw that, staring at you while you were looking at her to study her features. you were studying her intensely, and kept erasing what you drew to redraw it, perfecting your details- you really cared about improving your work.
- it changed her opinion of you completely. you put your all into learning things, she realized, and didn’t see art as some little casual thing on the side. rather, you were earnest in your efforts to improve yourself.
- and of course… she also realized at the same time, that you were rather attractive. every minute she spent looking at you to memorize the details of your face, she realized how lovely each little part of your face really was.
- she felt a strange feeling, deep in her stomach... something she had only ever felt for her boyfriend. and yet, now, she was feeling it for you...
- without thinking, she presses too hard on her sketch pad with her pencil.
- after you two are done with the portrait assignment, eva feels like she still can't let you go. even though she knows it's wrong to enable herself in doing this when she has a boyfriend... she feels too strongly about you.
- she wants to know everything about you. she's scoured all of your social media accounts that she can find but... it just isn't enough. she needs more.
- instead of using her time between classes to study like she used to, she instead uses it to go around campus, looking for you...
- when she ends up finding you frequently "by coincidence" you just figure that she's lonely, and you don't think much of it.
- even if the accuracy to which she's predicting your locations and moods is becoming... a little worrisome. it seems like she knows when you’ve skipped lunch, when you’ve spent an all-nighter, when you have a big test you’re preparing for in one of your classes…
- she'll often spend a lot of time waiting for you. too often for someone who already has a partner, you think.
- you think you maybe should tell her boyfriend, but you think better of it. you feel bad for claude- you know that he really loves his girlfriend.
- claude, her boyfriend, was the shining star of the music department. he was a former child prodigy at the piano, and still plays it beautifully. but what he's really known for is his angelic, soothing voice.
- he’s a very handsome, polite man, someone who is able to charm both teachers and students alike.
- and yet, although he could get with anyone he wanted, he was steadfast in his devotion to eva. constantly keeping an arm on her while at social events and always doing favors for her to make her happy.
- but right now, little did you know... claude himself wasn’t feeling too loved.
- he had been noticing that his girlfriend had been spending even less time with him, and was evasive when she was asked who she was with.
- she already didn’t spend much time together with him, as she was studying and painting for most of her time out of her classes. now, it was like he barely saw her at all. and when she did, she seemed different, distracted even.
- she was smiling and blushing to herself while she was thinking. far moreso than she normally would than she was around him. it made his heart hurt, seeing his normally stoic girlfriend act like this about someone else.
- clearly, she was starting to have feelings for someone else. but he didn’t feel that he had the right to say anything about it right now. after all, he too was falling for someone else.
- he’d met someone in one of his basic singing classes. they’d been taking it so they could get better at singing, since they liked doing so as a hobby.
- he’d fallen in love with their voice, thinking it was beautiful. an amateur sound, sure, but it sounded so lovely alongside his own.
- he’d try to convince them to let him tutor them. after all, it would be a waste for them to not perfect this talent of theirs, no?
- even though he had a girlfriend, he insisted on spending more time with them. he felt like he needed to spend as much time with them as he could, savoring the lovely sound of their voice.
- he had thoughts about them that he had only had for eva, before. his head swarmed with an obsessive need to just have them, keep them to himself. even though, he already had a love of his own already…
- he felt guilty, thinking he was betraying one love for another by holding both in his heart. he has started to follow eva, wanting to remind himself that she was his love, and not them.
- to his surprise, though, the mystery person that eva was meeting behind his back turned out to be you. you, the person that he fell for as well.
- and then, the gears started turning in his head.
- maybe it wasn't a problem that his girlfriend had a crush after all... after all, it's good to share in a relationship, isn't it?
- once the two of them decide to work together to gain your affection, your life becomes very different. though you don’t know why, both seem to be acting more open and friendly with you in public. they’re both very touchy with you, gently putting their hands on you often.
- when you’re singing or drawing with them in private, you don't feel creeped out or surprised when they put their hands on your arm or back to correct your posture... though, you do feel like they are touching for longer than they should. aren't you already in the right position by now?
- the two of them end up being very supportive of your interests, urging you to do duets with claude, draw eva while she's posing for you, and show the two of them your sketchbook.
- they give you a lot of special things, too- including making you special tea for your voice, expensive art supplies, sheet music, etc.
- you end up being signed on as the understudy for a role in a musical a lot, and the two of them say that they'll watch you perform. you shake your head saying that you probably won't get on stage. but oddly enough, accidents happen frequently enough that you often do.
- you feel a bit overwhelmed by their attention, and all the odd occurrences happening around them are starting to creep you out... but, both of them are in the clubs and classes that you want to join, so you also feel that you can't avoid them.
---
claude put his fingers gently on your throat. you weren't sure that this was really necessary, but his cool fingers felt good on you. you gulped a bit as he pressed his fingers up near your jaw, and uneasily you looked towards eva sitting on the other side of the room.
she was looking at the two of you with an unreadable expression. you flitted your eyes away, worrying that she was (understandably) jealous about the close contact you were having with her boyfriend.
she seemed mad earlier too, when you had said that you were auditioning in the role of one of the leads in the next musical the theater department was holding. you didn't understand why she was upset with you for that, but you had hoped that she wouldn't be mad at you for long- she was a little frightening when she was upset, and you would really like to get on her good graces.
you had just come over since claude had offered to tutor you a bit in the song you chose for your audition. you had no idea that eva would even be here, let alone that claude's lesson would be so... hands on. you blushed slightly, unused to the strange situation.
"mm, your tonsils are a bit swollen. that's not good for someone who's supposed to sing on stage, you know," he said to you softly, giving you a sympathetic smile.
"really? you think i got sick?" you say, surprised. “i feel just fine, though. are you sure?”
claude nodded.
"mhm, trust me, i've been singing for a long time- i know tonsillitis when i see it."
you look at eva to see if she'll say anything, but she nods in agreement.
"well, you shouldn't audition if there's any chance of you being sick, right? after all, doesn't this play have a kissing scene? you wouldn't want to pass on your germs to them during rehearsal."
"eva's right, you shouldn't do it."
you frown a bit. you really feel fine... doesn't tonsilitis feel much worse than this? your throat doesn't even feel sore.
"well... okay," you say, grumbling slightly. "i guess you do know better."
he seems to preen a bit at this, standing up straighter. he smiles at you widely.
"just stay here, you'll be fine soon. you can just get some medicine here and rest up. we'll take care of you," claude says, patting the top of your head gently. to your surprise, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. you make a sound of surprise, and look at eva and then back at him. your eyes are wide with shock, but they're both acting like this was just a handshake.
"wait, hang on, what was that about-" you start saying, but he's already off to another room. you turn to eva, frowning slightly in confusion.
"eva, i'm sorry, i don't know why he would-"
before you finish your sentence though, she's already walked up to you and placed a kiss on you as well.
"don't worry about it.”
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wangxianficfinder · 9 months
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Fic Finder
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1. Can you help me find a fic? It was a poly ship, with I think Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan, and Wei Wuxian. Possibly also Nie Huaisang? LWJ, JC, JZX (+maybe NHS) were divine beasts and WWX was another mythical beast but he hid it. I don’t think they were all romantically involved: WWX was the pivot between the others. It was abo or a fated-soulmate au. I think I might be getting two fics confused though, because I remember there is one where WWX, LWJ, JC, and JZX form some kind of soul bond and they fight through the Sunshot Campaign together and they can read each other’s thoughts and bring each other back to life, but this one is not that one! Can’t remember that one’s name either and it isn’t in my bookmarks. TT
FOUND? I’m pretty sure the one with the fourway soulbond is Quartet series by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k, Platonic Soulbond, Hurt/comfort, Canon   Divergence, No golden core transfer, JC&JZX stay in Xuanwu cave, Fix-it, Temporary character death)
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2. Hello! I am looking for a fic where  Wei Wuxian is a hairstylist. Rich!Lan Wangji keeps coming back even though originally he would only make an appointment with the owner. Likes his scalp massage. I can't remember if the owner is Huaisang or Wen Ning. Thank you for your help! @toopunkrockforshul
FOUND! Delivered in Silence by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Slow Burn, hairstylist!WWX, client!LWJ, Horny WangXian)
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3. For fic finder: An mpreg fic: in the Gusu lectures Jin Zixuan rapes Wei Wuxian, and so Madame Yu pulls WWX out of classes and drags him back to Lotus Pier where he is confined in secret for a year to have the child. The story continues on through the canon storyline with WWX repeatedly clashing with JZX especially over his engagement to Yanli. LWJ realizes that JZX hurt WWX and stands by WWX’s side to face JZX. I think it was a very long fic.(wangxian endgame, not WWX/JZX)
FOUND! secrets for the stars to keep by UchiHime (M, 37k, WangXian, XuanXian, XuanLi, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mpreg, Canon Divergence, not a/b/o, Hurt/Comfort, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Recovery)
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4. Help me please! I am struggling to find a fic due to tumblr’s dumb search system (I know I originally found it due to this blog). The fic involves Lan Zhan slowly turning into jade and Wei Wuxian is asked to help bc he is great at breaking curses! It turns into the two of them basically doing a bucket list for Lan Zhan and it was very cute! @flamboyantly-asexual​
FOUND! A Curse of a Different Color by nickel710 (G, 35k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, Curses, Curse Breaking, Asexual polyamory, Repressed LWJ, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drunk LWJ, Falling In Love, WWX Being an Idiot, Non-explicit vomit, just a tiny reference to it, Anxiety)
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5. Hi! For the fic finder, I vaguely remember reading a summary where lwj turns into a girl and has to have an orgasm in order to get back to being a boy or something along those lines? Sorry, that's the only thing I remember about it but I need it 😭🙏🏼
FOUND! Coming Back to Yourself by acernor (E, 21k, WangXian, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Pining, Gender or Sex Swap, Vaginal Sex)
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6. Hi, I'm looking for a fic, large I believe, where a transmigrator was born as Xichen... Any idea which can be @krysaniar​
FOUND? the eve of dawn by theAbandoned_Grimoire (G,132k, LXC & LWJ, LXC & QHJ & LWJ, LQR & QHJ, NHS & NMJ, future wangxian, canon divergence, dumb LXC au, hurt/comfort, angst & feels, fluff, dysfunctional family, happy ending, implied/referenced character death, minor character death, slow burn)
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7. Hello! I’m looking for a fic I read a while back. My memory is a bit vague, so take with a grain of salt. Plot: Lan Wangji is stressed (forgot if it was just stress or if it was autism related) so Wei Wuxian uses his body as a weighted blanket, just laying on top of LWJ. (I think WWX buys him an actual weighted blanket later on but LWJ prefers WWX as a weighted blanket. Also, I think they get together at end of fic, but I’m not sure.) thanks in advance for your help! It’s greatly appreciated! @dweebdaweeb
FOUND? Happy for Now by ScarlettStorm (E, 79k, Female WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Rule 63, Cisswap, There Was Only One Bed, romance author au, Adhd wwx, service top LWJ, Pining, Smut, Comedy, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, horny yearning, furtive masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Sex Toys) there was a scene like that in 'Happy for Now' by ScarlettStorm
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8. hi ! i’m looking for a fic set in post canon where i’m pretty sure wangxian we’re tg, they go on a hunt where smth puts everyone to sleep and eventually kills. but rlly the curse tricks you into showing u a horrible nightmare that u think is ur reality so u stay asleep. wei ying sees lan zhan die in front of him and he’s super angry and resentful that lan zhan would leave him, and after the funeral he ends up leaving cloud recesses and suzhui bc he can’t be there without him. eventually he is woken up and finds out it was a dream, but wei ying talks to lan zhan and is like “how did you not resent me i chose to leave you”. i cant find it anywhere !!
FOUND? more damage than a soul should see by Kika988 (M, 12k, WangXian, Heavy Angst, Whump, Post-Canon, Please see notes for specific warnings!)
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9. Hello Mods!
I have two fics I'm looking for, that I have regrettably lost amidst my 53 pages of AO3 subscriptions (yes it is a lot no I will not shrink it I have 20+ fandoms I enjoy I am an unrepentant).
A) 1st is a Golden core reveal fic which also included Wangji telling Wuxian about the marriage ribbon and the two of them serving tea to Jiang Cheng and Yanli after it.
B) 2nd is a modern AU fic where Wuxian is a Hacker? Code writer? for his main job but also is a music teacher I think while Wangji works in hospital? They have a big concert together is what I remember.
Any help finding these two gems is greatly appreciated! (^_^♪)
9B)
FOUND? Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, So much trauma, Angst with a Happy Ending, Takes a while to work through it, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks)
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10. I'm looking for a fic where they mention that something that sometimes stops cultivators leaving the sects and going rogue is having to pay the forge prices of their swords. IIRC it was in the context of the Lan sect helping WWX get out from the Jiangs by paying the forge price for him. Please and thank you!
FOUND! Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 64k, JL & WWX, wangxian, post-canon, protective WWX, protective JL, JC & WWX reconciliation, reluctant matchmaker JL, pre-JL/LJY) Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller mentions disciples that leave have to pay to keep their sword, but it's about Luo Qingyang and the Jins
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11. Hi! It has been a while. So there's this ff that I have read before and I cannot remember the title. So it goes like
Wei Ying was going to destroy the Yin Tiger Tally and he knows he's gonna die in process. Jin Ling's 100th day is also coming up so he insists A-Yuan to go there too with someone I cannot remember (but I think it was Song Lan) and he told A-Yuan to find Lan Zhan. I think he also wrote some letters for the people invited there to read. A-Yuan started crying I think and yelling that Gold was bad (he was refering to the Jins because they tortured them on camps before).
Pov to Wen Qing and Wen Ning. They weren't aware that Wei Ying was going to destroy the Yin Tiger. I think Wei Ying told them to buy something or collect something. So while they were out Wei Ying started to destroy the Yin Tiger. Wen Qing senses something was wrong and hurriedly went back to the Burial Mounds. Time skip Wei Ying still dies (?) Wen Qing was trying to revive him until she passes out. Time skip again Lan Zhan Jiang Yanli Jin Zixuan came to the burial mounds, Jin Zixuan got shot by an arrow and was poisoned so Jiang Yanli find Wen Qing and beg at her to save her husband. I don't remember much but at some point they saw Wei Ying's corpse.
Last time I read it, it was still incomplete. I hope you can help me with this. Thank you @hellothere9597​
FOUND? #11 i think its a deleted fic. The title is When I'm Gone by qiankun_pouch . Its fit the description that are mentioned
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12. Hi I'm looking for a fic where Wei ying is obessed with marrying a rich man, so he goes to parties with meng Yao looking for one..Meanwhile Lan Zhan his room mate is rich and hiding it. He detests those who seek money. They have chemistry. But Wei ying never wants to risk being back in poverty. And Lan Zhan he into him a lot but he doesn't want Wei ying to be with him for Money.Wen ning is also a roommate. @imgonnablogtheworldtodeath
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13. Hello!! This is a fic finder request but first I have to let you know that ur all doing gods work and that I appreciate u all sm!!
Ok so im not sure if im doing this correctly but I’m looking for this fic that I lost where lwj almost dies in nightless city saving jyl. Lxc was able to save him by binding their souls together or smth at the last minute and then he hid lwj away in qinghe where he’s basically in a comatose state. Wwx thinks lwj is dead and blames himself and iirc he turns himself in at cr and gets whipped? Also lxc 100% blames wwx for lwj’s near death and pretty much hates him. I also remember that when lwj woke up and wwx saw him he went a little crazy and wouldn’t believe he was real
Again thank you all sm for your hard work!! @kitekichenqin​
FOUND? If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Loss, YLLZ WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)
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14. Hello! I am looking for this fic I read a reaaaaally long time ago. The only thing I remember is that wwx died but not really when he was on his way to jin lings one month celebration (ik it's really vague up till here) and wen ning takes him back and then goes to the banquet and talks with the main characters there privately. Thanks in advance! @la-diabla
FOUND? End Racism in the OTW | The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)  
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15. During Gusu lectures LWJ and WWX spar and something sparks between them like dual cultivation? I think they were already in a relationship at that point, and during the spar they are giddy with the thrill of the fight and, feeling their energy circling, it gets them horny and they, pardon the crassness, jerk each other off in a hallway after they drag each other off the field. @gloriousclotpole
FOUND! 🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 663k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)
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16. hellooooo I've been looking for this fic but I can't find it all I remember is Thant lwj goes back in the past after wwx's death (during the cloud recess study arc) and it ends withe a threesome with him wwx and younger lz. also at the end he goes back to the futur to wait for 'his' wwx can you help ????? thanks for all that you do !!!!!✨✨✨✨✨✨
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17. hii i was looking for this wangxian fic where I think they accidentally end up taking care of a-yuan? the only thing i remember from the fic is that around the end social services or cps take a-yuan away from wangxian for a day or two and then they have to go sign some papers before they can have a-yuan back. that's all i remember sorry 😭 i read it a long time ago maybe 2020/2021? I've been looking for it for ages and i can't find it, please help 🥺
FOUND? All those roads are pointing to you by jiejieaini (E, 81k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Drowning, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bunnies, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Dubious Consent, Dom/sub Undertones, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Rimming, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Marriage Proposal)
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18. Zero idea if you still do this, but Im looking for a certain fanfic which is about lwj and wwx moving together i think because he was kicked out by madam yu, because he outed himself and I remember Lan Xichen being very supportive and even going back to the house to retrieve wwx‘s belongings and ofc lwj and wwx fall in love other the time course
FOUND? Found Family by fyredancer (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, Getting Together, POV Outsider, Dysfunctional Family, Coming Out, Bad Parenting, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Siblings)
FOUND? Where is home? by SpicyRamen_10969 (M, 42k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Coming Out, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Good Sibling LXC, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC Being an Asshole, Possible Smut?)
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19. Hello, this is an FicFinder request.
I don't remember much, but it was a rare-pairing of WRH and WWX. I'm not sure if it was a time travel fic. When bunny was 14 or something, a water deity came from the waters of Yunmeng and told him of his powers/potentials. Bunny then was take. To kunlun mountain or smth like that and found out that he controlled the void, darkness, some elements as well. He meditated and became immortal and had lived for more than 200 years in another realm. In Yunmeng, he was still a kid and went to seclusion to complete his meditation or something. He also had a wife/lover in underworld and it was a mix of Greek mythology and others as well. @tinyfoxpeach
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20. I particularly remember that it is a four part series with one fic rewritten. It's basically post burial mounds siege where wwx ascended to immortality, and lwj ascended after his 33 discipline whip punishment. Lwj's injuries were so grave that it carried to his ascension. It's not specified but lwj ends up in wwx's domain and wwx goes batshit after finding out what the lan sect did and confronted them. Mostly fluff and angst. @bananatoffeepie​
FOUND? Deity AU by crypticidentity (M, 5k, wangxian, hurt/comfort, madness, implied/Referenced character death, whipping, angst, protective WWX, BAMF WWX, deity WWX, deity LWJ) check all the tags before reading!
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