#I'll just get the chaise lounge i said | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phyrestartr · 6 months

Text

Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business.

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders.

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand.

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.”

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor.

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–”

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.”

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room.

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane.

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted.

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.”

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat.

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too.

–

Ding.

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free.

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached.

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.”

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.”

“Probably not.”

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.”

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you.

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely.

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts.

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know.

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling.

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him.

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it.

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.”

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?”

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–”

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.”

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.”

“Don't blame this on me.”

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.”

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose.

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?”

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.”

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.”

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.”

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass.

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked.

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.”

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door.

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?”

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack.

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–”

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack.

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched.

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did.

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better.

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better.

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.”

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him.

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.”

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior.

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.”

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his–

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings.

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.”

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands.

“Found it, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.”

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.”

“Where'd you find it?”

“My pocket.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you.

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured.

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?”

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.”

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall.

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew.

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes.

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow.

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.”

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too.

“Raincheck,” you murmured.

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–”

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck.

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.”

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there.

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?”

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee.

“Come sit.”

Sukuna complied.

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say.

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.”

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.”

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.”

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote.

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.”

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer.

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around.

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite.

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet.

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth?

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you.

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again?

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply.

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.”

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony.

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being.

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–”

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.”

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.”

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock.

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood.

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.”

“Tch.” You've said that before.

“I mean it.”

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–”

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide.

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance.

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed.

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings.

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed.

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness.

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–”

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him.

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear.

I do.

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body.

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding.

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment.

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.”

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole.

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.”

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it.

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?”

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.”

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement.

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.”

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours.

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.”

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…”

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening.

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside.

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa.

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry?

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue.

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!”

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues.

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again.

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.”

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?”

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!”

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back.

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child.

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?”

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster.

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–”

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice.

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you.

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head.

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand.

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant.

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm.

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!”

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.”

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!”

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?”

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment.

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.”

“That's generous.”

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever.

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–”

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!”

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

1K notes · View notes

kissingkiszka · 9 months

Text

Loved You Since Forever - Sam Kiszka x Reader

High school AU

Words: 2.1k+

Summary: A slumber party with your long time best friends, the Kiszka brothers.

CW: fluff, childhood crushes, talks of bullying, lots of acapella singing, pining, baking, mentions of fire, idk, I think that’s it?

This oneshot was very much inspired by the picture of him above!

—————————————————————

The Kiszka's invited you over to their house for a sleepover. You had been best friends with the three brothers since elementary school, especially close with the youngest, Sam. They also invited one of their other relatively newer friends, Danny Wagner.

You arrived to their house, your overnight bag in hand.

The eldest brother, Josh, greeted you at the door with a hug.

"Get over here you guys! Y/N is here!" He shouted, waving his brothers over.

"Y/N!" Sam waved you inside and Jake took your bag from you. They walked you into the living room, Jake placing your bag next to the couch.

"I'm so glad you could make it, it's been so long since we had a sleepover." Sam patted your shoulder.

"Sam...I slept over here last weekend." You laughed into his arm.

A few moments after you had gotten settled and Danny arrived, you changed into your pajamas. You had brought light pink silk shorts and matching tank top.

You all gathered around the couch, just catching each other up on all you've missed within the few days you hadn't seen each other in. You noticed you kept catching glances with Sam. He particularly liked the pajamas you had changed into as his eyes kept gravitating towards them.

"Alright, who wants to set up the sleeping arrangements for tonight?" Josh clapped his hands together, standing up. "Danny can take the couch." He suggested, knowing that none of them knew him as well yet, and they all wanted him to be as comfortable as possible as a new guest.

"Mom said we can order a pizza so...I'll call?" Jake asked, picking up his phone from the side table.

"Pizza sounds great!" Danny chimed in.

You followed Sam over to the basket full of blankets.

Sam began to pile out the blankets one by one, making sure to take enough for everyone. "Are there enough blankets to go around?"

"Don't worry about me. I brought my own." Danny told him, pulling a blanket out of his duffel bag.

"I don't mind sharing one with you, Sam." You spoke up, and not realizing what you had said until you saw Sam's cheeks turn pink.

Jake and Josh both shot him a discreet smile, holding in their giggles.

Josh sprawled out on the chaise lounge next to the couch and Jake left the room to order the pizza.

Sam rolled out a blanket across the carpet, crawling onto it. You crouched down next to him and set your pillow next to his.

"Y/N, braid my hair?" He asked, turning his back to you and shimmying his long brown hair out for you to style.

You took the three strands in your fingers and began to braid it. The way his soft and silky hair felt in between his fingers felt like heaven. You were honestly jealous of his shiny luscious locks.

Jake comes sauntering back into the room, plopping himself down on the rocking chair in the corner. "Pizza will be here in 20."

"Shall we put on a movie?" Josh drummed against his thigh before jumping up and running over to their DVD shelf. He scanned his finger over the various titles before coming across the perfect one. "Aha! Pitch Perfect!"

"Josh-" Jake tried to protest but trailed off, knowing his argument was basically useless. Josh would always have the first say and was putting the movie in before anyone else could interject.

Everyone got settled in their assigned sleeping arrangements. That was until the movie somehow eventually turned into a sing along, causing everyone to get up and attempting to recreate the performances in the living room.

It was of course mainly Josh who was carrying the performances.

Jake made sure to tell everyone that his singing along to Pitch Perfect that took place in the living room, had to stay in the living room.

"Josh, I think you could be one of the Treblemakers!" You nudged him as he began to sing the riff-off.

"You really think so?" He asked, clapping his hands along to the music.

…

Everyone sat around the floor in a circle, gossiping and joking around with each other. The night was going great and you didn't want it to end.

"Let's tell scary stories!" You suggested, hugging your pillow closer to your chest.

"Alright, alright. I got one." Sam put his arm out to gather everyone's attention. "One time there was a guy named Sam Kiszka-"

"Spooky." Jake interrupted.

"Dude, shut up." Sam whacked him with his pillow as you all erupted into laughter. "And he lived with a monster. His asshole brother named Jake Kiszka."

Everyone began cracking up and you noted that Sam had looked to you, probably to make sure that you had laughed at his tale.

"Sounds scary." Josh chimed in as he took a bite of his pizza.

"You got me." Jake said through a chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

"Let's do kiss, marry, kill!" Danny broke the laughter with a new suggestion.

"Hit me." Sam spoke up.

"Hmm..." Danny tapped his finger against his chin in deep thought. "Well, there's Y/N, Mia from math class...and uh...." He pauses and shrugs. "And Audrey?"

Sam takes out the Braid you had done for him, you knew he would always play with his hair when he was nervous. He runs a hand through his hair, his face reddening. "Let's see. I'd marry Y/N, obviously." He looks right into your eyes, a certain sparkle in his. "Kiss Mia, she's nice and gave me answers that one time. And kill Audrey. She was rude to Y/N in middle school. Plus, I'm not into the whole 'prom queen' type." He finishes confidently, receiving nods from the group.

You blush as your lips creep up into an uncontrollable smile. "Thanks, Sam." You comfortingly rubbed his knee. His eyes kept looking into yours and something transpired in that moment.

"Y/N's turn!" Danny pulls you out of the daydream as he turns to you.

You took a deep breath and readied yourself.

"Jake, Josh, Sam." He lists off.

"For starters I'd marry Sam." You looked into his eyes once more as a giggle escaped your lips. He was glad to see you reciprocate the gesture. "Kiss...Jake and...Kill Josh. Sorry Josh."

"No worries, I don't swing that way anyways." He jokes.

"Ooh! Let's play spin the bottle!" Danny suggests, which quickly gets shot down.

"Dude, no fucking way. Like, half of us are brothers." Jake reminds him.

"Oh." Danny quickly shakes off his suggestion, laughing when he realizes.

After a few more rounds of kiss, marry, kill everyone had grown quite tired but nobody wanted to go to bed just yet. It was becoming that part of the night where anything anyone said was hysterically funny when Jake suggested you all try your hand at making cookies.

Josh popped open a tube of cookie dough. "If we burn the house down moms gonna kill us!"

"We're not gonna burn the house down. Give it-" Jake pulled the dough out of Josh's hands which received an uproar of cackles from everyone else. "The peanut gallery over 'ere thinks the house is gonna burn down, do you hear him?" He looks to you, Sam, and Danny while pointing to his twin brother.

Sam swipes some cookie dough on his pointer finger, and approaches you. He pretends to boop your nose and then ultimately lets you lick the dough off his finger. It was a quick and goofy moment in passing, but you knew this would be a moment you would keep coming back to.

Everyone was almost on the floor in a fit of laughter by the time the sheet of cookies were finally put into the oven.

…

Everyone had retreated back into the living room, all getting settled back into their appointed spots for the night. Sam had put on another movie, but this time it was used mostly as background noise.

Within the next five minutes, the sounds of Josh's snores began to fill the air.

Jake groaned out of frustration. "Dude, wake up!" He waved a hand in front of his face, in hopes he would somehow wake up.

"It doesn't work that way, Jackass." Sam told him, standing up and marching over to the chaise lounge where Josh laid in.

He pushed his brother out of the way and began to shove Josh.

"Wake the fuck up Josh." Jake joined in on shoving his twin.

Josh snapped awake with a gasp. He looked around the room when he realized he had fallen asleep. "Fuck you guys." He mumbled before trailing off again.

"I think he's out." Danny told them, trying to keep the peace. "Leave him be. We can fend for ourselves without him."

Jake groaned and plopped himself down onto the chair.

The cookies ended up being burnt, you were only able to salvage bits and pieces.

"And Josh said we'd burn the house down. Yeah right." Jake chuckled. "And he's the one who's asleep. Hell, if it were up to him the house would be charred by now." He laughed, making everyone else join in.

Shortly after everyone had some of whatever pieces of cookie that weren't burnt, you all laid down for the night.

...

You were awoken in the middle of the night by Josh's snores once more. Sam's leg was tangled in yours. You adjusted your position to get more comfortable in an attempt to fall back asleep, but your stirring just causes Sam to wake up.

"Y/N? You awake?" He says in a light whisper.

"No." You whispered back.

"Really? Then who am I talking to?" He asks, jokingly.

"Not Y/N." You respond, looking over at him. The reflection of the moon in the window illuminating his face. He looked so gorgeous with the way his eyes glistening at you, the way his hair was sprawled out against his pillow. He looked like a perfect painting.

He sighs for a moment, a comfortable silence coming over the two of you. The only noise that can be heard being Josh's snores.

"Hey, if his snores are too distracting...what do you say we escape to my room?"

You nodded.

He didn't even need to hear you say the word before he was helping you up and padding up the stairs into his bedroom.

He plopped himself down on the bed, patting a spot across from him for you.

"Mom says we're not allowed to be in here alone, but I think this should be an exception." He smiles. "Anything to get away from Josh and his loud snores."

"Yeah, I think you're mom would rather have well rested kids than cranky, sleepy ones." You agreed with a nod.

His fingers danced over the back of your hand and he looked at you with stars in his eyes. Even thought you couldn't see the moon shining down into him anymore, his eyes still shined like it.

"Sam..." you finally spoke with a bold amount of courage. "Did you really mean that? You would marry me? I know your options were limited in that round but, I just can't stop thinking that-"

"Yes. I would marry you every single time." He says, flipping your hand over so he can intertwine his fingers with yours. "My options don't have to be limited, because the only option I want is you. I meant it all."

"Oh, I'm so happy Sammy." You gleamed, bringing him into an embrace.

"Me too." He hugged you back, even going as far to kiss your forehead. "Can I tell you something?"

"Shoot."

"I was actually ecstatic when you offered to share a blanket with me." He beams. "I know it's silly but, it made me feel all warm inside, like butterflies and shit. I can't believe I'm saying this but...I like you, and I have since the day we met. It's cliché and all but, it's true."

"It's not silly, Sam. I don't know what came over me when I offered, but I'm glad I did."

"I'm glad you did too." He looks down in his lap then back up to you. "I remember the day at lunch in middle school, when Audrey..." he trails off, not wanting to bring back that a bad memory of yours and ruin the moment. "Yeah, well, I remember being so infuriated. I remember thinking 'this girl is one of a kind and this bitch is just going to say this terrible stuff about her?' and I was ready to fight for you. I think that was the day I realized I loved you. And that was only when I realized it. I've loved you since forever."

"I've loved you since forever, too."

You get settled into his bed, him kissing your cheek before you both drift off to sleep once more. This time wrapped around each other and completely encompassed in each others warmth and love.

58 notes · View notes

doxypsychlean · 2 years

Note

I need irresistible pt2 omg

HERE IT FKN ISSSS!!!

Irresistible pt.2

Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Previous chapter: Irresistible pt.1

Warnings: NSFW content, Explicit language, Targcest lol

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon II Targaryen x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Aegon II Targaryen (you knew it was coming, come on now)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Couldn't help myself, but turn this into something more...emotional? Ig? Meh, you'll see what I'm talking abt. And ofc the attention goes to Aegon, can't have it any other way.

────────────

Two pairs of hands tugged at her clothes with equal hunger and impatience. She turned to face the older brother, her hands reaching to unclasp the gold chain that was hanging around his neck. Aegon took the moment to steal a kiss, eliciting a shocked moan out of the woman.

"You're getting greedy, it's my wedding night."

"It's hers too. Now shut it."

Aemond's hands stopped moving, now resting on his wife's waist. He looked at his older brother who was kissing down her neck in return.

"How about you say that again, brother?"

"Shut. It."

Aemond reached past her shoulder, hand wrapping around Aegon's neck. In the process, he'd managed to push the lady to the side, not even realizing it.

"Shall I leave the room? You two look like you've got it all covered." She said jokingly, coming between the two men once more. "Aemond, love...Remember what we talked about?"

The Prince hummed, the sound coming out from low in his throat.

"Tell him to stop with this childish behavior of his then."

She sighed heavily, arms dropping back to her sides.

"What was that now? Childish?" Aegon hissed as he took a step forward.

The two were so busy spitting insults at eachother, they didn't even notice the woman had left them. She was now standing in front of one of the lounge chairs, fingers working fast at the strings of her dress. She rid herself of all the layers, then took a seat.

"It would seem you two haven't learned how to share, after all..." She sighed once more, hand running over her shoulder.

The two finally looked away from eachother, three eyes searching in front of them. Then they found her.

"Are you going to prove me wrong or shall I just retire to bed?"

Aegon made his way over to her first. Before he could move any further, her hand reached out. She placed it on his stomach, stopping him where he stood.

"I am truly disappointed by the way you to have been acting this whole evening. Truly."

Aegon swallowed the lump in his throat as he lowered himself to his knees, being led down by her hand.

"You ought to make it up to me, don't you think?"

Aemond looked at her, then at his older brother. He let out a snort. It was priceless. His older brother, the first born son of King Viserys, was now sitting down on the ground with his chin resting on his wife's thigh. Eyes pleading for her to let him touch her. Then those eyes turned to him, same question in them.

Aemond nodded. He watched as his brother's hands wandered over her body, worshipping ever inch of skin underneath.

"Do you plan on joining us, husband?"

"Yes, brother? Are you going to stand there the entire night?"

Aemond let out another one of his notorious hums as he made his way towards them. But just when he reached his wife and her lover, instead of joining them, he took a seat on the other chaise. The one right across from where the woman was sitting.

"For a bit. I want to see how you'll do, brother."

The woman laughed softly as she ran a hand through Aegon's silver hair. The hand stopped at the nape of his neck, then pulled back harshly. The prince let out a pained hiss.

"I would love to see it too."

She pointed to the bed with her free hand, signaling for Aegon to get on it. He looked away from her, face reddening. His eyes landed on his younger brother. The one-eyed prince had already been staring at him with that annoying little smirk of his.

Aegon got back on his feet slowly, his eyes never leaving the one of his brother.

"Love,on the bed. Now." The woman commanded.

He found himself standing next to the bed soon after the words left her mouth. The prince hadn't even realized he was moving towards it.

"Strip." His brother's voice came through. Aegon turned to look at him once more, eyes widening in shock. "You asked for this, didn't you?"

Aegon's throat had gone dry as a desert. His fingers were twitching, arms resting in front of him. A part of him wanted to follow the order. The other one felt ashamed.

"Aegon...Strip." Aemond said.

Unlike most men, he saw things that usually stayed hidden from the eye. Like the way his brother hesitated before his hands reached for the buttons of his green tunic.

"Husband..." She said, hand reaching towards him. "Your eyepatch, I need it."

Aemond reached up and tore it from his face without hesitation. If he was right, what his wife was about to do with said patch would be most entertaining, for both her and him. Maybe even for Aegon, if his assessment of his older brother was correct.

The lavishly embellished green tunic hit the ground. Aegon stood transfixed, his crystal blue eyes moving from the woman to his brother. Standing there, frozen in place, the prince looked an awful lot like a statue. Statue that eagerly awaited the next order, no matter from which of his two lovers it would come from.

"If I'm not mistaken, my husband ordered you to take off everything. Everything, Aegon." Her soft voice called out, snapping the prince out of the trance he was in. "Perhaps you are in need of some assistance, hm?"

The smug smile on Aemond's face grew. Seconds later it was completely gone. She stared straight at him, the hunger in her eyes saying more than any words ever could.

"But…" the two brothers whispered, puzzlement written on their pale faces.

The woman said no more, now too busy watching the leather band of the eyepatch wrap around her tender fingers.

Aemond swallowed hard and reluctantly approached his brother. Aegon looked everywhere but at him. Both of their hands were shaking now.

"If you're going to share a bed with me, the two of you, you're going to have to get to know each other on a more ...intimate level." She said, eyes never going up to look at them.

Her words were met with silence.

"I've told you my terms, either the two of you together or neither of you will lay a finger on me. So?"

Aemond shook his head. She was right, they both had agreed to it. But neither of them thought she really meant it.

Two strong arms wrapped around Aegon's waist. Their noses were almost touching. Almost. Aegon craned his neck up so he could look his younger brother in the eyes - the sapphire and the real one.

"What in Seven Hells do you think you're doing?" He hissed through gritted teeth, panic in his eyes. His chest rising and falling rapidly as Aemond held him close.

"Targaryens are closer to gods than to men, isn't that what the people say?" Aemond said with a condescending sneer. "Relax."

The two arms around him dissappeared. Aegon hated himself for missing the way they felt against his skin. He closed his eyes and let out all the air he had been holding captive in his lungs.

He felt himself being pushed back onto the bed. Before he could react, his legs bent at the knees and his head hit the soft mattress. His brother's hands were back on him, now working at the belt and then the buttons of his trousers.

Aegon hid his face in the crook of his arm, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. It was humiliating. But he asked for this. He wanted it. He knew it would happen. Still, the prince couldn't help himself but to try and hide from his lovers.

"Stop." Her voice came through once more. Without them noticing, she'd made her way over to the bed and was now sitting on one of the farthest corners. Watching every reaction, every move, from both her husband and his brother. "Do you want him to stop?"

Aemond ,who was now hovering over him, pulled his arm away. Aegon didn't resist. He'd let it get this far, there was nothing for him to lose. The older male shook his head violently as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"No,no. I..." He hesitated for a second before his eyes went up to meet hers. "I asked for this."

"Good." The woman and his brother said in unison.

Before he could say much more, his leather boots hit the ground, Aemond throwing them somewhere behind his back. Next were his trousers.

"Always the whore... You couldn't be bothered to put something on, hm?"

His brother let out an unusually soft laugh as he placed a gentle hand on the side of his face. There was no trace of malice in his words either. Aegon stared up at him in confusion.

He'd expected of Aemond to try and make a fool out of him, to try and prove to his wife that they didn't need him there. Instead, Aemond was staring down at him with...

Love. Adoration. Desire.

Tears started rolling down Aegon's reddened face. He couldn't say why, but he just felt like crying his eyes out right then and there.

"Don't, love. We're here..." A much more gentle hand cupped his other cheek. "We're here."

Both hands started wiping at his tears. The voices were whispering sweet nothings, trying to calm him down before Aegon could fall apart in their hands.

"I'm fine, I'm fine..." He swatted at their hands as he came back to his senses. "It's just..."

"We know." They said together.

The three of them were sitting on the bed, both Aemond and the woman staring at Aegon. He didn't have to say it. They knew perfectly well what he was feeling.

"So...now what?" Aegon's voice came through, stronger than even he himself expected.

Soft lips kissed down from his forehead, to his eyelids and finally to the corner of his mouth.

"Your brother said he wanted to see how you'll do, didn't he?" She said, eyes going from one brother to the other.

"Yes...?"

The woman pushed him back down and climbed onto his lap. One of her hands reached over to Aemond, quickly undoing the buttons of his black leather tunic. Her other hand grabbed Aegon's and dragged it across Aemond's front.

"Then let's show him."

──────────

The sun had started to show on the horizon by the time the three lovers retired to bed.

Aegon was staring at Aemond as he played with the woman's hair. Something was gnawing at him, Aemond could feel it. The woman was laying on her front between the two men, eyes closed as she bathed in the tranquility of the moment. They shot open the moment she heard the words.

"This isn't right..." Aegon whispered, voice cracking.

"And yet, we're here." Aemond squeezed his brother's hand in reassurance.

"No, that's not what I mean." Aegon squeezed back as he let out a short, bitter laugh.

"Then what, love?" Her soft voice interrupted, drenched in concern.

"How long would it be before mother decides it's time for me to marry too? Before she throws some unknown nobody in my hands?"

Aemond sat up, eye trained on his brother.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life without you. Without either of you..." He shook his head, short locks of white hair flying around.

Before the younger of the two brothers could say anything else, the woman chimed in.

"You know...Aegon The Conquerer had two wives."

"So?" Aegon asked.

"So what's stopping me from having to husbands?"

His eyes widened. Aegon looked over to his brother, mouth agape. He sat up as well, much faster than his brother had done. Then his eyes trailed back to her, over her naked body and up to her own eyes.

"No one would allow it. It's...uncommon. We are brothers-"

"Visenya and Rhaenys were sisters." She interrupted.

"It's a sin in the eyes of the Faith. No septon would have it, most definitely not the High Septon. The Faith-"

"Fuck the Faith. Fuck the Seven. Fuck the High Septon." Aemond was the one to cut him short this time. "I don't give a shit about any of them. We'll do it in the ways of Old Valyria. The three of us."

The room fell silent again. Then Aegon threw himself back on the bed with a huff.

"When?" She asked.

"Today?" Aemond and Aegon said together.

The three looked at eachother, then the woman bursted into a fit of laughter.

"I agree. The sooner, the better. I can't wait for our life together to begin."

"The three of us. Untill time breaks us apart." Aemond whispered as he turned to look at his lovers.

"And then we'll still find a way to be back with eachother." Aegon returned.

"Forever." The woman said, eyes shutting.

"As one." They three finished together.

Then the world around them went silent.

#hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd #game of thrones #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aegon ii x reader #dance of dragons #aemond targaryen x reader #targcest #we all saw this coming

592 notes · View notes

apoptoses · 5 months

Note

Omg reverse roleplay part 3????? I LOVE it reverse roleplay stuff

okay so you're gonna be disappointed because my naming conventions mean if a fic is connected to a previous fic, i use the same wip title on it to keep them organized. so while technically this DOES originate from the very first reverse roleplay fic, it has nothing to do with that activity 😂 it's just daniel in charge.

but i got stuck on it 5k in and now i think i know why (they need some breathing space between returning to night island post akasha -> fooling around to let some tension build). maybe i'll get back to it and give it another try!!

“So this is where you’ve been during the day for all these years,” Daniel said as he stepped into the room.

It was like something that had been cut from some renaissance manor and transported straight to Miami. Hell, knowing Armand it probably had. Daniel ran his fingers along the dark, linenfold paneling as he walked the periphery of the room. The elaborately carved and painted ceiling glittered in the dim light of the electric candelabra installed by the door.

Daniel felt as though he were enclosed in an old jewelry box, the ceiling so low he could almost reach up and touch it. He stepped onto an antique rug and wiggled his toes in its wool fibers. With his immortal eyes he could see the thinnest crack in the paneling, suggesting another hidden door. A closet, probably. Surely there was nowhere in this small room to keep Armand’s great collection of clothes. There was just enough space for the desk and bookshelf, and a silk covered chaise lounge. And the coffin-

Daniel had no idea one could find a coffin made so large. The black lacquered lid was shut but even without it being open he could tell the inside of it would be wide enough for two.

He turned his attention to Armand, who stood with his hands behind his back, expression smooth and placid as it had ever been. Daniel’s heart drummed in his chest.

“That’s an awful lot of coffin for someone your size,” he joked, and then cringed when his voice wavered with his nerves.

How childish, being nervous about whether Armand would invite him to sleep in here with him. Daniel felt like a teenager, desperate to be invited into the room of the first boy he’d ever liked.

They’d slept together, of course. But out of necessity, when it was easier to acquire one coffin a the last minute than two. Armand, exhausted and wan from his turning, had climbed in on top of him fully clothed and collapsed into the death sleep before Daniel had even had a chance to kiss him. And then in compound- well it hadn’t felt right, flaunting his status as Armand’s fledgling in front of all of his former loves. Besides, it was safer sleeping alone, Marius had insisted.

Daniel tilted his head and watched his reflection in the shining black surface of the coffin lid. Without meaning to, he lifted his hand and traced the lines around his mouth, forever etched into his skin by immortality.

“Yes. I thought perhaps it would be more comfortable,” Armand said. “You’ve always preferred to fall asleep lying on your side.”

The hinges on the coffin made no sound as Armand lifted the lid. It wasn’t brand new. The divot in the padded interior was just the width of Armand’s narrow shoulders, the wrinkles in the pillow sham spoke of his tossing and turning in the early hours of the evening. Daniel toyed with the pleated satin that lined the lid and wondered when Armand had purchased it. How long he’d deliberated over whether Daniel would ever sleep there at all.

“So you want me here with you after all,” Daniel said quietly.

“Yes,” Armand shifted his weight from foot to foot. Beneath him the floor boards creaked. “Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

#apoptoses answers

9 notes · View notes

grey-fuckers-unlimited · 1 year

Text

Usage Rules:

- All posers posted are 100% free to use for whatever you wanna do. go hog wild. If you would like to credit me simply @ this blog. It's not a requirement, but I like seeing what people do with these fuckers + I'll reblog them here under the "not a grey fucker" tag.

- All poses should be treated as gender neutral, there is no requirement to only use them for one gender or anoth. nor are they Intended for any specific relationship dynamic (ie mlm/wlw/mlw/etc). Which model is used has more to do with the build I needed for the character I made the poser for than the gender assigned to the model by the devs.

- having said that: every single poser posted is trans and thinks trans people are rad as fuck.

FAQ:

- the app is called magic poser. There's a free version, a one time payment version, and a monthly sub version. I use the one time payment version because I was grandfathered in and got it for free when they made a major update to their monetization structure.

- my art blog is @bitchfitch and I make these posers for use in my own art, and then just post them here as well. That's why they're all weirdly specific.

- Requests are welcome but I may or may not get to them.

The Roster

Magic Poser comes with Elle and Arnold. in addition to them I've made a handful of other models to use as I need them. I'm putting them and there names below the cut to make adding them to requests easier for folk.

humanoids:

Weevil (infant), Makaleigh (8yo)

Animals:

Honse, Lil Honse

Divorced Dog, Snake (just the head),

dragon, good boy

items:

recurrent chaise lounge, shotgun

#wanted a new pinned post

27 notes · View notes

tarrenterror25 · 1 year

Note

also what if miguel falls asleep. at his desk or on a couch or on somebody's shoulder. guard down eyes closed. "i'm just gonna rest my eyes a bit--" *snooork mimimimi*. what then

The poor baby 🥺💕

Miguel one hundred percent falls asleep at his desk; head resting in his palm, elbow on the desk and his eyes just close. He'll wake up like every few minutes and every little sound or Lyla suddenly saying something will jolt him awake, but he's so tired and he'll switch arms, change positions thinking that'll keep him awake, but he still falls asleep.

Peter finds Miguel sleeping in his chair; arms crossed and head tilted down, breathing soundly and Peter makes sure that no one bothers the boss man for awhile.

Sometimes, the gang catches Miguel completely in a non-defensive sleep position in his chair; head back, open mouth snoring, arms loosely over his chest/stomach or off to the side. It takes ALL of Hobie's strength to not do something every time.

I don't think Miguel feels comfortable being far from his office/lab since that seems to be where he monitors all the multiverse stuff so he for sure sneaks in the Spider-Therapists' office when he goes to lunch for a nap on the couch.

Just imagine-

This hulking 6'9" 300lb man trying to lay on the chaise lounge. He's fallen off a few times off the side of it. He definitely pushes it together with another couch/chair in the room.

Miguel thinks no one knows, but everyone knows he's napping in there. Peter brings him a blanket and pillow because with those neck muscles the man needs the head support.

Imagine-

Miguel standing next to someone during a mission briefing and while someone's talking he just-

He's totally pretending that it didn't just happen and out of embarrassment doesn't make eye contact with the person. Arms crossed, eyes forward, a deep inhale/exhale through his nose and a few good blinks to wake himself up though his eyes are clearly still half lidded with exhaustion.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ Bonus ˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Remember how Peter kept telling Miles to hold Mayday and that is was very rejuvenating? Yeah, he's said this to Miguel before and probably finally got Miguel to hold her then quickly "left" (not really) and Miguel has fallen asleep holding Mayday.

Self projecting a bit here, but I've got a kiddo and it is incredibly difficult for me to fall asleep BUT as soon as I so much as close my eyes near kiddo (while holding them or what have you) it is GAME OVER. Oh, I'm just gonna lay here with them and then I'll get up and go back to doing-ZZZZZZZZZ. Everytime.

Miguel is no exception, I don't care how tough he is, he falls asleep with that baby on his chest or in his arms from time to time.

#miguel o'hara thoughts #miguel o'hara blurb #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 #soft miguel o’hara

31 notes · View notes

scolbert22 · 2 years

Note

Slobby bear being controlled

Watch Fob Slob

Alek had meant well enough when it all started.

There was a sidewalk sale going on in the antique store below his apartment, and he was always looking for a new piece of furniture to brighten up his sad little studio, so he popped down. He had only just gotten to the bottom of the outdoor staircase connecting his door to the pavement below when he saw it glinting in a cardboard box marked "FREE". He reached into the box, curious.

When he withdrew his hand he saw he was holding a tiny medallion with a miniature painting of a lapdog on it. On the back, there was an inscription in a sturdy, archaic font:

OBEDIENCE

"That's a very unique piece," said a voice behind him.

Alek turned around to see Mrs. Lexington, the fiery little woman who ran the antique store.

"It is very beautiful, I love the little portrait!" Mrs. Lexington smiled, but there was a glint in her eyes he didn't recognize.

"Something tiny like that in a big old place like this is something special, only reveals itself to the person who ought to own it!"

"Do you know what it's purpose was?"

"It's a watch fob, kiddo! you attach it to a watch chain. And one like that is very unique indeed, the dog represents loyalty and obedience."

"Well, I don't own a watch with a chain, but..." Alek reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He plucked off a phone charm, some anime character his nephew had given him, and with some effort he attached the fob. "There!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

"You be careful with that, it's more responsibility than you know..." Mrs. Lexington said, her face deadly serious.

"Of course, Mrs. L. I would never lose something I got from your shop, how would I live it down?" Alek laughed. "Oh shoot, you know I forgot my wallet! Let me run back upstairs and I'll be right back down. You know I've had my eyes on that chaise lounge!" He was marching back up the wood stairs when he felt a sudden softness below his left foot and then a terrible snapping sound as his leg plunged through the rotten plank.

"AAAAHHH" Alek cried as he stumbled. Thankfully he was only on the third step, and pulled out his leg with a bit of effort. "This stupid staircase should have been repaired years ago, I could have been hurt!" he fumed. He took a photo with his phone and headed toward his landlord's house, a block away.

____________________________________________________________

Tony Marucci was sitting back in his easy chair watching March Madness when he heard the aggressive pounding on his door. He got up and waddled over to the door, pulling his basketball shorts up over the three inches of exposed, fur-lined ass crack. The giant man had been a college athlete himself once, 10 years ago. However, the multiple properties he inherited from his dad coupled with his natural laziness had slowly but surely the Italian Stallion into a lumbering bear. He opened the door and looked down at the angry little otter who lived in his property stood there with fire in his eyes.

"What can I do you for, Alex?" Tony asked easily leaning against the doorway on one arm. He flashed a hairy, unwashed pit and his wifebeater rode up. He scratched his fuzzy midriff and watched the poor little guy's resolve falter. Tony wasn't queer or nothin', but he always loved attention, especially if he could use it to shut up whiny tenants.

The yappy little dude ran a hand down his bearded face quickly and his anger had returned. "I just stepped through one of the rotten planks on my staircase, which I told you needed to be replaced! You need to get someone to fix those immediately or-"

"Listen Adam," The giant man bowled over the irritating little tirade. "All complaints must be put in writing and submitted via email, we've talked about this."

"I did that! Two months ago! And you ignored me! Now I have come in person to tell you if you don't get someone on it immediately I will withhold my rent, which I think you will find is within my rights in this city!" Tony didn't know if he wanted to punch the little dork or give him a noogie like he was an annoying little brother. He took in a deep breath and sighed.

"Do you have photographic evidence of the damage?"

The little dweeb practically jumped out of his skin getting his phone. "Yes indeed I do, I'd like you to take a look at these! I could have been killed! And Mrs. Lexington is my witness, these stairs need to..."

The yapping continued incessantly as tony looked down at the photo of the hole in the step. He rolled his eyes at the minor damage when something glinted just outside of his vision. What is that? He thought absently, his eyes following the dangling charm on his tenant's phone. So prettyyyy.... The charm twirled around and a word flashed across his eyes and burned deep into his brain:

OBEDIENCE

The slob's scruffy jaw went slack, falling open. A string of drool slowly spooled as the little man in front of him continued to emphatically prattle in his direction.

_____________________________________________________

"I bet I could get some of your other tenants together and start a strike, I'm sure you treat them just as neglectfully as you treat me, is that what you want Mr. Maru- ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME MISTER MARUCCI?" Alek was red in the face from his one-sided argument. when he finally looked at up at the landlord, the man was staring at nothing with his face and arms slack.

"listeninggggg" groaned the entranced bear.

"Wha- what are you doing?" Alek said, suddenly worried the handsome slob was having a stroke.

"Obeeedieeent" he crooned in reply, giggling dumbly.

Alek was confused for a second, and then remembered the word on the watch fob. "Are you...no, that's insane..." He regarded his landlord suspiciously. "Stand up straight."

The entranced goon in front of him immediately complied, his arms at his sides and his feet together. His jaw snapped shut, and he looked like a chubby toy soldier. Alek didn't know how to react, and he laughed frantically. He ushered his unwitting victim into his own house. I wonder what I can get away with, he thought to himself.

"Take off your shirt" He commanded imperiously. The bear complied, peeling off his sweaty wifebeater and revealing his hair peppered belly, chest, shoulders, and back. Alek reached out gingerly. He was scared of breaking the spell, but as he felt the warm, pliant flesh of his landlord's belly, the man simply leaned into his touch and hummed a single, needy note in the back of his throat.

"Do fifteen jumping jacks." The man instantly followed instructions, bouncing in time in a way that waws nearly hypnotic to Alek. His silky basketball shorts slowly migrated down his hips as he jumped, revealing that he was going commando, and that he had never heard of manscaping. Finally, with most of his pubes and half his ass hanging out, he stopped and stood up straight. "Behave normally."

Tony seemed to snap out of it with a snort, but he was still clearly fully absorbed by Alek. "Hey Alek! Don't worry about that staircase, I'll someone out there as soon as possible, I promise."

"In the meantime, I can stay here with you." Alek suggested.

"In the meantime, you can stay here with me!" Tony smiled, as if he'd come up with it.

"It could take a month for someone to get out there so I'll make myself at home." Alek smirked

"It could take a month for someone to get out there so please make yourself at home." Tony parroted hanging off his tenant's every word so much that they felt more like his true thoughts than his actual internal monologue.

"I can take your bed obviously, rent-free, and I can use your body however I see fit. You'll love whatever I do to you."

"You can take my bed obviously, rent-free, and you can use my body however you see fit. I'll love whatever you do to me" The mindfucked landlord grinned stupidly back.

"I'm so glad to hear it, Mr. Marucci, or should I say Tony" Alek grinned. Now why don't you show me to the bedroom, and you can show me just how sorry you are for breaching our contract?" In a flash, the giant bear was leading his new owner to his bed to start the beginning of his new life.

A life of Obedience

#gay bear #slob #mindfuck #brainwashing #straight to gay #male tf

43 notes · View notes

sweetcloverheart · 7 months

Text

Public Enemies AU: Marinette (and Tikki) POV

(Continuation of prev snippet here)

Marinette pushes open the trapdoor to her room, teeth grinding as she seethed. She hadn't stopped the whole day, even when coming home for lunch and stomping past her concerned parents after the last bell brought her back, determined to overwork her poor jaw.

"Marinette, welcome back! Are you-"

"I'll eat later" is all she says as she storms upstairs, still fuming. The moment she arrived to the attic, she slung her purse over her chaise lounge and immediately started pacing, as it was the only thing she could think of to burn away her angry energy.

She still can't believe that jerk would say something like that! Who does he think he is to just make fun of her like that! "The cheap ones tend to be faulty, so let me buy you a super expensive brand with my rich model money since you're too much of a poor little baker girl to get your own.". Did he think he was being sly? She didn't need his condescending charity. She could buy a 100 million alarm clocks if she wanted to (even if she couldn't afford it)! Just who did he think he was?!

But then again, what should she expect from someone who's openly friends with Chloe Bourgeois. In the entire three weeks since the school year began, the boy's proven himself to be just as awful a rotten brat as she is, if not moreso. They probably workshopped that entire alarm clock jab the whole time they were together right before she walked into class, like they did with the gum prank on her first day! Stupid blonde jerks the both of them!

Ugh! She just...couldn't stand it! It's bad enough she has to still be dealing with Chloe in her final year of College - why did god feel fit to add a jerk like Adrien Agreste into the mix! It wasn't fair.

"Don't tell me you're still angry about what Adrien said this morning?" Tikki asked as she worriedly popped out from Marinette's coin pouch, and the brunette swerved.

"Of course-!" She began, only to stop and take a forcibly deep breath. Much as she'd like to explode right now, it wouldn't do her any good to get so upset that an akuma shows (especially when she had to go out for patrol after dinner). "Of course I'm upset Tikki, you heard what he said to me." then flopped down in her computer desk chair "Grr! It's like he can't through the day without helping Chloe make fun of me every chance he gets!"

The Kwami frowned slightly at that as she floated towards her holder, gently touching the girl's hand. It always got like this when Adrien Agreste was the subject of the conversation - It seemed everything he did, from staring to just simply breathing, was somehow a secret ploy meant to mock her holder.

But Tikki just couldn't see what Marinette did. She can't say she's the perfect judge of character, but from the short three weeks since her holder met him, Adrien hadn't seemed at all like the evil schemer she had been making him out to be - If anything, he was the exact opposite. He always seemed to be trying to befriend Marinette or help her, and clearly looked worried when she got upset like this at him (Honestly, the only real bad thing about him was simply that he was too permissive when it came to that Chloe girl). She just didn't understand why the girl was so convinced he was out to get her?

"He didn't sound like he was trying to make fun of you though." Tikki says carefully, thinking she was getting through to her when she see's Marinette's face relax a little, but...

"You don't get it Tikki. He clearly hates me. I mean, why else would he constantly team up with Chloe to mock me otherwise?"

Tikki earlier frown returned as Marinette continued her annoyed muttering, made slightly deeper "I just think maybe you're being a bit hasty assuming it's just simply malice." She suggests, remembering the hurt disappointment on the blonde's face as Marinette ran away "I mean, he offered to buy you a new alarm clock! You wouldn't do that for someone you hated. In fact, it sounded more like he likes you-"

That sadly seems to be the wrong thing to say, because Marinette face immediately twists into something outraged and panic-stricken as she leapt up from her chair, causing Tikki to shift backwards sharply.

"THAT'S JUST WHAT HE WANTS ME TO THINK!" she cried, voice suddenly pitched as she gripped her own arms violently "That's how it always is with Chloe friends - They pretend to be nice and act like they like me, only to lead me into a trap!"

"M-marinette?" Tikki calls worriedly, but her holder doesn't seem to hear her, slowly working herself into this strange manic fervor that had her clutching her arms even tighter as her eyes bulged out. It was akin to that same state she seemed to fall into whenever she was going overboard on her plans.

"I can see it now! He pretends he's going to take me to the store to get an alarm clock, acting all nice and friendly - Then the next thing I know, I'm getting covered in slime, or getting forced to sit in paint, or getting tripped and having an embarrassing photo taken, or being dunked in the fountain while cockroaches get thrown on me!"

And when it's all said and done, it will end just like it did with Kim; everyone watching and laughing and making jokes and videos about it that stay online for months that constantly get played in class while she's told to stop being such a baby and Jeez get a sense of humor already Mari, it was just a joke-

"Marinette!"

The brunette finally returns to earth as Tikki wipes her cheek, and it's only then that she notices that she's crying.

"I'm sorry." her Kwami says regretfully "I was being dismissive. You...you're really worried about this, aren't you."

Marinette nods, rubbing her face "I know I shouldn't let him get to me, but I can't help it. What if it's another trick? What if it's a trick? What if he's just leading me along? What if it happens again?"

Tikki's antenna twitch. Again? What does she mean by-

Footsteps approach the trap door and Tikki immediately dives into Marinette's bag, hiding just in time to avoid her mother as she climbs up the stairs and peaks her head in.

"Marinette? I heard yelling, what-" then freezes when she spots heer daughter and her puffy wet eyes "Oh. Oh honey..."

Marinette just sniffles as her mother fully ascends and comes over, pulling her daughter into a tight hug. She doesn't ask what happened or what's wrong, just sits there with her child until the sun's sunk low enough to start dyeing the sky and Marinette's all cried out enough to be lead downstairs to eat.

(Tikki considers asking what her holder meant by "again?" when she finally returns. What this was, whoever she was seeing in Adrien Agreste, seemed to be horrible enough to leave her in such a awful state, and there was too high a chance of Hawkmoth taking advantage of that in the future.

But seeing Marinette's blue eyes clear of tears and fear keeps her silent, and she allows herself to be sucked into the earrings as the girl transforms into Ladybug and heads out for patrol with her partner)

#Miraculous Ladybug #Ficlet #Public Enemies!AU

5 notes · View notes

brandstifter-sys · 1 year

Text

Rites of Spring

For @dukexietyweek Day 3: Mythology (Ao3)(login required)

Word Count: 1203

Rating: T

Characters: Remus, Roman, Virgil, Patton (mentioned)

Warnings: deception, talk of kidnapping

When the god of the Underworld asked the King of the gods to send him a fiance, it looks as if Roman is in for some trouble. Fortunately his twin is more than willing to disguise himself so he can have that edgy snack all to himself. Based off the myth of Hades and Persephone.

---

Remus was not nearly as dumb as the other gods thought he was. He knew that they hated him and wanted him to leave the mountain. Well, Janus still wanted him there, but that was it. He would be happy to leave and never come back. He just needed a good opportunity. And Patton unwittingly provided the perfect opportunity.

"I don't care if he is the king of the gods!" Roman groaned from his chaise lounge, "I refuse to marry a complete stick in the mud!" High in the clouds, he was far too comfortable to look down and admire his springtime creations. His twin was on the edge doing that for him.

"What if I take your place?" Remus suggested calmly. Too calmly.

"Why? You would be trapped in the underworld with the dead and the second most boring god in existence. That's no life for a god of spring!"

"Didn't you say that there only needs to be one? Or did you just want to get rid of me yourself?" Remus jeered and flicked his wrist, sending his blessing to the fungi on the ground.

"I–uh—" Roman stammered, "What's the catch?"

"You have to lend me one of your robes and you might not get it back. He's expecting you after all. King Daddykins wouldn't dare send his little storm cloud less than the best."

"I'll have a robe ready for you."

Remus was ecstatic the second his feet touched the ground. He could feel the earth's life crawling up his legs and he was ready to trick the god of the underworld into becoming his husband. He just had to act like Roman for long enough.

He frolicked through the forest clearing, humming and singing softly to all of Roman's creations. He didn't sing too much, lest he cause his own creations to rot them.

"Hey," a low, gentle voice greeted him from behind. Remus made sure his glamor was up and spun around with a bright smile and a flair for the dramatic.

Virgil was leaning against the wall of a cave, rubbing his arm and not looking at Remus. He was so pretty with his violet hair in his face and his flowing dark robes. Remus had to fight the urge to tackle that cute edgelord and take him right there, right then.

"Greetings, Virgil!" Remus said, doing his best impression of his twin, "You look ravishing today!"

Virgil lifted his head and eyed him suspiciously. Did he know? No, he couldn't know!

"Look, I know Pat sent you as a forced fiance, you don't have to pretend to be happy about it," Virgil said flatly, "I'm not going to force you to marry me or whatever."

Remus deflated.

"So you don't want to get married?" he asked, "Like at all?"

"Not to you, Ro, and I know you have your eye on the god of sleep. So uh, if you want to hang out, I'm cool with that, but you don’t have to stick around."

Right, he was pretending to be Roman. He didn't just reject Remus. There was still hope!

"I would love to!" Remus grinned and clapped his hands together, "But you have to let me see your dog!"

Virgil actually smiled at him. Remus swore his heart skipped a beat. He didn't know if he could keep pretending to be Roman much longer.

Virgil led him into the cave and down a winding set of stairs. It was dark and dank and gloomy, and Remus absolutely loved it.

When they reached the bottom, Remus was in awe of the place. There was a wide river leading to a large gate and beyond the gate there were assorted fruit trees and fungi. Remus recognized those trees as his. Those were his babies! And Virgil kept all of them and cared for them!

Virgil didn't seem to notice that Remus was internally swooning. He just led him through a small network of caverns and into a large room with a couple couches, a table with a basket of fruit, and a desk loaded with paperwork.

But the large, black, three-headed dog that took up one of the couches made Remus gasp. She was sleeping and snoring and running in her dreams.

"You can get comfy. Just don't eat anything," Virgil said and sat on his desk, away from the paperwork.

"Why not? The pomegranates look simply delicious," Remus pouted and sat down.

"They'll bind you to this place. You'd have to move in. And you don't want that," Virgil said flatly.

"Perhaps not," Remus mused, still keeping up his guise, "If that's the case, why present me with such temptation?"

"I need to eat. And maybe I was hoping Pat would send someone else," Virgil admitted.

Now that got Remus' attention.

"Who were you hoping to lure and entrap here?"

"I wasn't going to lure and trap anyone," Virgil bristled, "I wouldn't try to trap anyone here if I didn't have to." His eyes were glowing purple and a darkness whipped around behind him.

"Pardon my wording," Remus said as Roman, fighting back the arousal pooling in his core, "Who did you want to come instead of me? And what makes them so much more desirable?"

"Uh," Virgil winced and rubbed his neck, "Remus. And I think part of it is that he brings life from death, he doesn’t just end a season of slumber. With my job, that’s more beautiful than anything, no offense.”

“None taken,” Remus hummed and smirked at him. Since he was pretending to be his brother, it wasn’t out of place, “But there has to be more than that!”

“He's always happy to see me, and he goes out of his way to make me feel welcome and remembered."

"I see."

"He might be wily and loud, but he's sweet and caring and beautiful. He makes me happy."

Remus didn't even think when he grabbed the split pomegranate and clawed into the mass of seeds.

"What the fuck!? Spit that out!" Virgil yelped and jumped from the desk. Remus shoved half of the seeds down his gullet.

"What did I just tell you?" Virgil groaned.

Remus giggled and let his disguise fade away.

"That you want me and not Roman, and I could stay if I ate the fruit! And to think I thought I'd have to trick you into being mine!"

Virgil scowled and pinned Remus' wrists on his lap. Remus could easily escape and fight him if he wanted to, but Virgil was hot when he was pissed!

"Why would you want that?"

"Because you're the only one who makes me feel wanted and welcome and I love you. I would do anything just to have you, even if it means you're angry and I get tortured!" Remus answered with a shimmy.

"I'll torture you later," Virgil huffed and kissed him roughly. Remus freed his hands and grabbed Virgil's head, pulling him for more.

"Make the pain pleasurable and you can torture me for eternity," Remus mumbled against his lips.

"Eternity isn't long enough for me to spend with you," Virgil replied and let Remus drag him onto the couch to kiss him again. Neither one could be happier.

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #dukexietyweek2023 #day 3 #god au #kidnapping mention tw

17 notes · View notes

ariannadi · 9 months

Text

Return and Proceed (2/2)

Can also be read on Ao3

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

When all was said and done, Wyll agreed to follow Karlach to Avernus, where they would take on the hells together. Lae'zel had flown off on one of the late Orpheus' red dragons to spearhead the liberation of her people. Halsin was currently rounding up displaced orphans to take back to Thaniel's realm. Jaheira had returned to her home to check up on her children, who had ultimately remained in the city. Minsc and Boo were currently en route to the Guild; the former wanting to start his de-criminalization of Nine-Fingers Keene as soon as possible.

That left Shadowheart, Gale, and Sitri, who, after finding Astarion cowering from the sun behind a stack of crates and safely getting him back to the Elfsong, all gathered for a celebratory drink.

"Well, what a bunch of lucky bastards we turned out to be," Gale said rather nonchalantly as he raised a toast. Though filthy and completely spent, the other three indulged in his show of comradery, before taking heavy swigs from their goblets.

"Hopefully Duke Ravengard will whip the Flaming Fist into gear so the city is swiftly restored to its former glory," Shadowheart huffed. "Although we did help save it, we've no obligation to help rebuild."

"I'll drink to that," Sitri laughed tiredly. "At this point I just want to lounge on a chaise and rot my mind with trashy fiction for at least a month. I wonder if any of my old novels are still—" but the half-elf gasped mid sentence, and her mug violently clattered to the table. "Oh. Oh, gods... Mankar!" she cried out in horror.

"Sitri? Sitri!" Astarion called when she quickly stood and bolted out of the tavern, and attempted to follow suit. Gale quickly stopped him with a firm hand to the chest, however.

"I recommend you slow down unless you desire to turn to ash," he pointed out, to Astarion's chagrin. How quickly he'd forgotten he was no longer immune to the sun, damn it all.

"Well, someone needs to follow her! A majority of the city is still crumbling to pieces!" the spawn argued.

"And we shall. I can cast a cloud of Darkness above you and regenerate it as necessary," Gale explained. "Hopefully she didn't stray too far."

"Hurry with your damn incantation, then! I know exactly where she's gone," Astarion urged, and once Gale had done so he hurriedly took off with the wizard on his tail. At this point he didn't care if the situation looked odd to the common bystander, he just needed to get to Sitri as soon as possible.

"Sure, I'll just cover the tab then, I guess!" Shadowheart shouted at them both, and threw a few gold on the table in annoyance.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Please be okay. Gods, please be okay," Sitri repeated over and over as she ran through too-familiar streets (now decorated with illithid carcasses) and towards her former home.

Despite the odds, she and all of her companions had miraculously survived the battle against the Absolute. Surely fate wouldn't be so cruel as to rob her of her only family in some twisted form of retribution?

But indeed, it seemed the gods had the last laugh as she came upon the smoldering remnants of a familiar structure, as well as the charred bodies who were unfortunate enough to be trapped inside.

With a lurch in her chest, Sitri knew right away who was responsible for the travesty. The Emperor had taken possession of a dragon sometime before they'd encountered it on top of the Netherbrain. It knew her thoughts and desires. It had taken the form of Mankar when it first appeared as a guardian in her dreams. And now it had actually taken him from her as a final act of revenge.

"No..." Sitri fell roughly to her knees as her mind attempted to process what her eyes could not. Very quickly did the air deplete from her lungs, but with what little remained she managed to let out a gut-wrenching cry that resounded off the walls of the adjacent, seemingly untouched buildings.

She wailed and screeched until her throat was raw, but it didn’t change a damn thing.

Mankar was gone, when he should've been safe.

Gone.

Safe.

Gone.

She was the one meant to perish, if anything. And yet here she was. Alive.

How?

Why?!

All at once, her body and perhaps even her heart gave out, and she curled into herself right there on the dirty cobblestones even as her screams went silent.

Everything hurt. But it also didn’t.

Maybe she could just… die right here, too. Pay her penance for her beloved mentor's fate.

He'd given her everything, and she'd given him death.

That’s when Astarion approached her—Astarion? How was he here?—scooping her limp body into his arms and cradling her to his chest.

"I've got you, darling," he murmured with as much comfort as he could into her ear, but his words had little effect.

For the first time in her rather short life, Sitri was completely numb.

Mankar—Father… I-I...

...I am so fucking sorry.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sitri?" Shadowheart pressed in concern when Astarion and Gale entered the party's shared apartment above the Elfsong. Astarion just shook his head at her. His lover had become nothing short of comatose in his arms, and had been from the moment he encountered her wailing in front of the still-burning remains of her beloved home. The last thing she needed was an interrogation, as well-meaning as it might’ve been.

Gods, she of all people didn't deserve this—the world could truly be shit sometimes. And if the Emperor ever manifested itself again in some way, shape or form, Astarion would ensure it suffered well beyond the capabilities of its 'greater being' or whatever bullshit it had touted.

"If you don't mind, I would tend to her," Astarion told both Shadowheart and Gale in what was perhaps the most serious tone he'd ever managed. Thankfully both were quick to agree - gathering whatever they needed for the moment and retreating downstairs, but not before firmly shutting the doors to the suite so their cohorts wouldn't be disturbed.

"I'm going to set you down for a moment so I can prepare a bath for you. Is that alright?" Astarion asked the woman in his arms, who continued to stare at nothing in particular. Taking that as affirmation, the elf gently placed her on her designated bunk before heading to the bathing area on the opposite end of the room. He made sure to add her favorite scented oil to the wooden basin as it was filled with steaming water, and laid out her loungewear for easy access once all was said and done.

When the bath was ready and Astarion went to retrieve Sitri, he was greeted by muffled whimpers coming from her lips, coupled by a number of lone tears snaking down her cheeks and chin. Her earlier outburst had been a concoction of helplessness, rage, and disbelief, but this display was something far more fragile. Now, without raw fury clouding her senses, she was truly mourning what she had lost.

"Oh, love," Astarion murmured sorrowfully, and didn't protest when she clung to him as he lifted her from the bed. Her tears soaked through the shirt he’d kept pristine for over a century, but for once in his lengthy existence, he paid no mind. His sole focus was bringing the woman over to the bathing area, where he managed to ease her into releasing her iron grip on him so he could help her in removing her soiled clothing. Normally more modest, she didn't even bother to cover herself with each button and snap that was undone; seemingly miles away even as tears continued to leak from the corners of her eyes.

It was only when Astarion finally had her situated in the tub that the half-elf briefly returned to her body, looking up at him through eyes that no longer resembled polished sapphire, but rather the dark, murky depths of the sea. Such a sight unnerved the spawn in ways he hadn’t considered. Sitri, always so sure of herself, just wasn’t meant to look so… lost.

"Can I wash your hair for you, love?" he offered, and was relieved at the slight nod he received before his lover’s attention became fixated on the adjacent wall. Astarion gently took her curtain of hair into his hands, tilting the woman's head so he could run cupfuls of water through the rose tresses matted with sweat and dried blood. It took a few passes before the water ran clear, but as soon as it did Astarion began to lather her hair with the shampoo she preferred, then rinsed the suds until the locks were once again shimmering. Satisfied with his work, he reached for a clean sponge and began to carefully scrub at Sitri’s skin - starting with her back.

This kind of intimacy was still rather foreign to him, but he would try his damnedest to provide her with the comfort and care she sorely needed in that moment.

"I... I should've become illithid," Sitri uttered suddenly, so quiet that Astarion almost didn't catch it.

"No." he snapped, and shook his head vehemently. He wasn't about to let her believe that transforming into a squid would’ve somehow altered the course of fate.

"I should've." Sitri chose to ignore him, and threw her head back with a dejected laugh. "If I had taken up the Emperor's offer to become a mind flayer, I could've killed it right then and there. Mankar would still be alive, and Orpheus wouldn't have needed to transform."

"Well let me ask you this, darling," Astarion intercepted, trying not to but very much becoming aggravated at her unrelenting and downright debilitating selflessness. "The consequences of your choices be damned, did you want to become a mind flayer? Did you want to spend the rest of your existence as a tentacled monstrosity whose only concept of self was devouring others' minds and living under the command of a hivemind?"

Sitri was quiet as she contemplated his words, but he could tell he had struck a nerve.

"No." she finally answered, sinking deeper into the water. "No, I didn't want to become a mind flayer."

"Then that's all there is to it," Astarion replied, his voice on the verge of giving out. He pushed Sitri's hair aside and bent his head, pressing frantic, near desperate kisses to her shoulders and spine in an attempt to convey his relief that she was here and whole and his. "Gods, Sitri, you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes,” he breathed into her flesh. “I didn't want that fate for you—none of us did, not after everything you’ve done for us. We've no idea what the outcome would've been had you actually undergone ceremorphosis, so for the sake of your own sanity, don't fixate on mere assumptions."

The half-elf nodded once, and pulled her legs into her chest. "I just…” she swallowed, more tears flooding her eyes. “I-I just wish I could’ve—gods—”

How desperately Astarion wanted to soothe her, but he knew nothing he did would help mend her broken heart. And so, as he proceeded to wipe away the blood and grime from her body, he allowed her her moment to just… cry.

“I wish I could’ve saved Mankar,” Sitri hoarsely managed once her tears ran dry. “Everything about this is so fucking unfair. I didn't even know half of the people I saved over the course of our journey, and the one person that mattered... I couldn't."

"I would argue against that, but, well... it really is fucking unfair how life tends to play out." Cupping her cheek in his hand and gently urging her to look his way, Astarion continued, "You of all people didn't deserve this. But you can't fix everything in this world, Sitri. You simply can't. And it doesn't fall on you alone to prevent these things from happening, even if you think it should."

Again, Sitri nodded, and closed her eyes when Astarion rested his forehead against her own.

Breathe, my love. Just breathe.

“Part of me wants to just… put on a smile, carry on like normal,” she admitted. “But I don’t think I can. Not this time.”

”Then don’t. It’s okay to not be okay. No one is expecting you to simply move on. Be sad. Be angry. Hells, scream to your heart’s content should the need arise again. You’re allowed to feel; you’re allowed to grieve. It does you no good to deprive yourself of that.”

The shifting of water, now cooling beneath Astarion’s fingertips, was the only sound occupying the suite after that. He helped Sitri up from the tub once he’d washed her as thoroughly as possible, and assisted her in getting dried and dressed.

No more words were needed for either of them, but she still made a point to reach for him as they walked towards the living area.

”Astarion. Thank you.”

It wasn’t okay, and wouldn’t be for a time.

But it would get better. And for now, that was enough.

#Astarion x Tav #Astarion #Sitri #Romance #Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #fics #Wash My Pain Away

6 notes · View notes