#kicking myself out of the dungeon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunnami · 1 year ago

Text

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

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

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

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

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

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

You blink.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.

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

“I know.” Harry grins.

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

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

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry wants to barf, actually.

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

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

“Away from you, Potter!”

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

Harry chortles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry’s eye twitches.

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

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

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

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In your dreams!” You shrill.

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

Harry nods. “Is it time already?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One date, then.”

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

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

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

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

“And I want to—”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”

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

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

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

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.

He falls in love.)

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

“Oi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

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

7K notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 8 months ago

Text

dungeon meshi gave me an excuse to write clone porn

2.6 k words / warnings - readers have boobs and vagina, oral (laios + reader receiving), thigh fucking, porn without plot like none at all, not proofread + written while sleep deprived

summary - on your honeymoon, you and laios have a special kind of shapeshifter encounter

~~~

“Who keeps two towels in the whole house?” you grumble, pulling on the shoes you’d kicked off just minutes ago.

“Like I said, they probably keep some in the shed,” Laios is directly behind you, shoes on and wired to step outside, “Vacation houses out here are rare, but their sheds are more useful for storage than farming tools.”

“Still, did they not think to prepare a little more?” your frustration is not so easily tempered, “They knew a king was coming, didn’t they?”

“I’m sure they did,” Laios opens the front door for you, ushering you outside, “Marcille seemed pretty sure she set this up nicely for us. It’s just a short walk around the back, I could go by myself if you want to finish showering?”

His suggestion makes you sigh, you shake your head, huddling closer to him as chilled wind scathes your damp skin, “I’m just annoyed, it’s nothing for me to be so hostile about… Sorry for losing my mind.”

“I don’t mind,” he smooches the crown of your head and ventures around the house. You chase after, having to keep a hand dragging along the wall to avoid tripping.

“Laios!” you wail, unable to make him out with gray clogging your whole vision, “Laios!”

“Yeah?” you slam into his chest, letting out a muted ‘oomf!’ at the impact.

“It’s so foggy out here,” you grumble.

“It is, guess I forgot how terrible it could be.”

“Dunno how you could forget anything like this.”

Laios groans in irritation at the weather, blindly reaching out until he’s got a hand on your shoulder. Once he’s certain of your position, he reaches out again, “Here, take my hand, I don’t want you to get separated from me.”

You take the hand extended and let Laios tug you towards the shed. By the time you’re inside and the hanging overhead lantern is lit, a sudden discovery is made.

There are two extra bodies among you. You hold one Laios, and the Laios across from you holds the hand of your copy.

A gasp echoes through the room, distinctly Laios-like in passion.

Seems a monster has crossed your paths.

One Laios is taller, a mere two inches, and you think if you really stare that same Laios’ chest is slightly bigger too. He’s also smiling, beaming really, right off the bat while the second Laios’ excitement is more contained to shaking hands and meek giggles. To be fair to both, they thought they’d never see a monster again so you let the strange giddy slide.

However, your duplicate is scary in how precisely Laios remembers you. Your hair is a bit bouncier and lips more glossy than current, but she’s undeniably accurate. Its legs, the swell of its breasts, the mold of its waist -- almost as though you’re gazing through a mirror.

“This would probably be easier if it wasn’t just us,” you think aloud, looking at the two Laioses only to see them poking and prodding at one another.

“They don’t seem too keen on figuring out which is which,” your copy mumbles, earning a glare from you.

“It’s a shapeshifter!” the slightly shorter Laios (who you’re now electing to dub Laios A) shouts, “I haven’t seen one of these in forever! I thought I never would again!”

The other one, Laios B, nods and yanks Laios A’s hair experimentally, then groping his bicep, “It really feels just like I do! Soft, but firm skin and the hair texture’s exactly right!”

As if thinking in sync, the pair slowly turn towards the yous. Four hands turn unto you both to squeeze and roll down the planes of your body. Or, bodies, considering they’re petting down your copy as well.

“Practically identical!” Laios A squeals, kissing your cheek then your copy’s, “Even the plumpness of their cheeks feel the same!”

“Glad you’re having fun,” your dupe cuts in, “but shouldn’t we try getting rid of the fakes before they get rid of us?”

Oh, that little wench.

“Let Laios have fun,” you smack its arm, “You should know this is rare for him now.”

“That attitude’s terrible! He could die if we keep messing around!” it glares at you with an accusatory finger-wag, “I bet you want us to waste time, you fake!”

“You’re the fake, you fake!”

Laios A has to restrain you with both arms around your waist -- while Laios B does the same for your shifter -- to prevent you from knocking a fist into its stupid, fake face.

“There’s gotta be a way to figure out which ones the real one without breaking into fights,” Laios B fusses, hugging the shifter tighter to soothe her. Which, in turn, only agitates you more because what if that Laios is the real one, and he’s in horrible danger holding that monster?!

“We can’t just cut ourselves open,” Laios A’s chest reverberates at your back, then his hand skims down the front of your stomach, fingertips dipping just beneath your waistband, “But maybe we could tell each other’s behaviors apart some other way…”

“Oh, so it’s like that?” you tilt your head back to stare up at Laios A.

He nods, terminally serious despite the pinkish hue trailing from his cheeks to his neck, “It’s like that,” he then darts his eyes between you and your copy, “Can we?”

The real question seems to be: can you two get along for now?

Are you so devoted to Laios that you’re willing to play nice with something so grating?

You sigh and reach up to cup Laios A’s cheek, “Yeah, we can.”

Both Laioses rush to undo the tie of their trousers, only to be stopped by you and your copy -- the two of you falling onto your knees, creeping hands under Laios’ shirt and beneath his pants.

Yanking the soft material down to unveil thick thighs, Laios A above you gasps quietly at the cool air brushing his exposed skin. Your lips climb the meat of his leg, noting that Laios B’s thighs are looking a little rounder. Not that it matters, you’ll gladly bite and suck both.

Fingers dancing along the apple of your cheek redirect your attention, Laios A’s face tinged crimson. You smooch the bone of his hip, nails scaling along the back of his thighs to pull him closer. Beside your face, his cock hardens, color deepening towards his mushroom tip; he keens for more attention, unintentionally smearing leaky precum over your face as his erection twitches. You smooth a thumb along his underside before chastly pecking the weepy head.

Laios B’s hands strip your copy’s shirt, lifting it to paw at its breasts. He kisses down the column of its neck before reaching out for you as well. Rising onto your feet, you run your hands up Laios B’s back to shirk off his top -- Laios A awkwardly lingering behind your clone. His hands find the waistband of its pants, snaking beneath the lip to plunge into its panties.

You press a kiss to Laios B, he doesn’t turn to return the affection, but you recover quickly by pulling down both you and your duplicate’s bottoms. Laios A’s neck cranes over your copy’s shoulder to snatch your lips for himself. Laios B’s hands warm and calloused from labor as they careen up your waist to rid you of your shirt as well. He sucks a violet array from your shoulder to jaw, grinding his turgid girth between your thighs -- your wetness welcoming him.

Laios A moans at the sight of himself thrusting along your soaked slit, fingers quickening inside your copy until its own slick is rolling towards the floor. While Laios B releases muted groans and puffs into your ear.

“Need to be inside you,” Laios A whines, kissing your copy’s lips before striding past all three of you towards the center of the room. Laios B and you tilt to watch him.

Laios A quickly flattens his back against the floor, cobblestone acclimating to his rising body heat, he pulls you down by the waist -- then beckoning your copy via wave. One of his hands cradles your waist while the other smoothes along your copy’s thigh. Silently urging it to kneel over his face, all while his twitching cock bobs toward the apex of your thighs.

“Want to know if here’s the same, too,” Laios A murmurs into your dupe’s thighs, sharply jerking his hips towards yours.

Suddenly, large hands are burrowing into the thicket of your hair, swerving your eyes to Laios B. Your tongue lulls in time with your copy, lips brushing hers around the base of Laios B’s flushed head. Needily, he mushes your faces together, thrusting between the wet cavern of your mouths. Hands just as soft as yours slither beneath you to work Laios A inside you. Laios A snaps his knees up, feet on the floor, to aid your copy’s effort. His hips buck up, punching air from your chest as he pops into your hole.

A louder mewl slithers past your copy’s lips, Laios A’s tongue lathering its slit before pausing at its clit, bathing the bud in extra attention. His thumbs splay it open just for easier access to tongue-fuck. Meanwhile, your sleepy bouncing rhythm is interrupted by abrupt, sharp humping throwing you off balance. The only reason you don’t fall over is Laios B stubbornly holds your head still, fucking the sodden gap between yours and your clone’s faces; otherwise leaving you to your own devices. You manage to catch yourself on Laios A’s chest, firm muscles flexing beneath your palms with his throaty hums and whimpers of pleasure.

Your tongue clashes with your clone’s -- soft and wet and warm.

Pulling both your heads back, Laios B rearranges you so your clone is left squealing around his balls while he slaps the meaty weight of his cock on your tongue. Sliding toward the back of your throat, his face flushes as he hungrily coaxes your head further down. Until your molten cheeks meet the protrusions of his pelvic bones.

A hand bigger than yours (though smaller than the one in your hair) rests on your flexing tummy, pressing against the bulging evidence of which Laios is inside you. Laios A groans at the feeling, and you quickly fumble your hand over his, pressing harder with a delighted gasp that ends in a gag and choke. Their sizes are indecipherable, and if the mood were different you could almost be ashamed by how perverted it makes you seem.

Laios B throws his head back as your throat spasms around his tip, lip cinched between his teeth and brows furrowed. He forces your head side-to-side, reveling in the bend of your muscles shifting to accommodate his dick. Laios A, however, stretches his hand (a little uncomfortably) so his thumb can swish messily against your clit. Your volume grows, quickly overpowering both Laios B and your own duplicate. Spurring Laios A to hasten, jostling you with his powerful drilling paired with stimulating your clit.

The other hand of Laios A has found one of your clone’s tits, squeezing and padding the nipple with his thumb. She’s grinding down against his nose, hips jumping and muffled mewls just barely scratching past its lips into the sensitive sack of Laios B’s balls. Spit gurgling down its chin, drying against its breasts and Laios A’s hand.

Drool steadily pools at the pucker of your own lips, pushed out everytime B shoves in -- saliva splatters his hips, dripping down his thighs and soaking his base as well as your entire lower face. The quicker he fucks your face, the sloppier and wetter it gets. Which is certainly in character for Laios.

But so is the way the one on his back is staving off his burgeoning orgasm to make sure (both of) you finish first. Something he always tries.

Laios A’s hips snap up firmly, crooking up into you midair, deep as possible to ensure all his cum is milked by your cunt. He moans into your clone’s cunt, now content to let his tongue hang out as it fucks his face -- his hand still squishing its tit.

Yet something he always fails.

Laios usually cums before you, but he’s also got the stamina to soldier on until you drop.

Determined, Laios swirls your clit, fevered thrusts slowing to meet your bouncing on his cock. Another slush of saliva oozes past your lips, lubing the shapeshifter as you cry around its erection. Laios fucks you through your orgasm, evidently loving how cum spews from your weeping cunt -- leaking down his cock, over his nuts, and spilling onto the cobblestone below.

Faux Laios spits cum down your throat with a few final aggressive jerks. Your clone is the last, and the quietest, shy huffs scarcely audible between skin on skin and both you and Laios’ noisy crooning.

The shapeshifters tumble off, thoroughly exhausted, and you fare no better collapsing into Laios’ chest. He leisurely jabs the last of your energy from you before pulling out altogether. Sweetly pecking your forehead, Laios murmurs something you don’t quite catch before he rises -- still naked -- to drive off the imposters.

Snagging both by the back of their necks, Laios herds the pair towards the back wall, then scooping you up to carry towards the main house. Once your doppelgangers are locked outside, Laios can focus on getting you in bed.

You pinch the juncture of his neck, yawning into his chest, “Clothes…”

“I know, I know,” he slumps against the door upon getting inside, laying his head over yours -- eyes fluttering with drowsiness as soon as he crosses into the master bed, “I’ll go back when the shapeshifter’s dealt with. You brought more clothes, right?”

You nod clumsily. Then peek at him through heavy lashes, “How do you know I’m the right one anyway?”

(you trust him to know which you was which, you just want him to bask in this)

Laios grins, visibly excited to share as he slips you beneath the sheets, “You’re always loud when we have sex, so I knew the version of you trying to be quiet couldn’t be it. And it was too shy about sitting on my face -- we’ve been together a while so you should be used to it by now,” his expression grows somehow brighter before disappearing from your sight, voice lively from the bathroom, “Could you tell which me was me?”

“Mhm,” you wait for him to return with a damp washcloth before mumbling your own reasoning, “The other one was too rough, kept shovin’ my head. And he never kissed me,” you fling a hand out, and Laios moves his head so your palm lands on his cheek, “Which was very unlike you.”

“You’re so smart,” he muses, shifting to kiss your palm before lacing his free hand with yours and retucking it in bed so he can properly clean the mixed cum between your thighs. Then, suddenly, he’s frowning.

“Aw, what’s wrong?”

“This might actually be my last time seeing a monster, unless it's a corpse Izutsumi brings me…”

“Poor baby,” you’ll never understand his fascination -- monsters are deadly and terrible and most are ugly as sin, but you’re useless to denying Laios anything so you always indulge him, “You could sing me the mermaids’ song, would that help you feel better?”

Laios sits up straighter, finishing cleaning you off, “Can I sing to the end? I never get to finish it.”

“Of course, you can.”

Quiet, hysterical giggles leave Laios’ mouth as he slides into bed beside you, hugging you into his chest before clearing his throat to begin singing.

(you have to keep pinching yourself awake to actually let Laios finish the song before falling asleep, but his grateful little kisses on your hairline are enough thanks)

#laios touden x reader #laios touden smut #laios x reader #laios smut #dungeon meshi x reader

547 notes · View notes

askmrtorgue · 2 years ago

Text

HEY! YOU THERE! WANT TO PLAY A TABLETOP ADVENTURE WITH A PROFESSIONAL STORYTELLER?

I'M MISTER TORGUE, AND THE NERD WHO HELPS ME LOG INTO THIS ACCOUNT ASKED ME TO DO AN AD FOR HIS SERVICES. I TOLD HIM I WOULD, BUT ONLY IF I GOT TO WRITE IT MYSELF. SO STRAP IN, DUMPSUCKS. IT'S PRODUCT PLACEMENT TIME:

DO YOU WANT TO PLAY DUNGEONS & DRAGONS BUT YOU CAN'T FIND SOMEONE TO RUN YOUR GAMES?

ARE YOU FED UP WITH A GAME MASTER WHO WON'T LET YOU STRAIGHT-UP MAKE OUT WITH THE VILLAINS OF THEIR STORY?

DO YOU WANT WANT TO LEARN TABLETOP RPGS BUT EVERYONE WHO TRIES TO EXPLAIN IT USES THINGS LIKE MATH AND SPREADSHEETS AND YOU CAN'T STOP THEM BECAUSE FATAL SUPLEXES ARE ILLEGAL ON YOUR PLANET?

THEN YOU NEED BENCOMPETENCE, PROFESSIONAL STORYTELLER AND GAME MASTER.

BRAOOWWWWW-CHICKABRAOW EXPLOSION NOISE HEREEEEEEEE!

BENCOMPETENCE HAS RUN OVER 800 PROFESSIONAL SESSIONS OF TABLETOP GAMES, INCLUDING DUNGEONS & DRAGONS, CITY OF MIST, THIRSTY SWORD LESBIANS, AND MORE. HE HAS OVER ONE-HUNDRED 5-STAR REVIEWS FROM HIS CLIENTS, WHICH IS PROBABLY MORE THAN 12 MAYBE.

NOT ONLY DOES BEN OWN A PAIR OF CAT-EAR HEADPHONES, HE EXCELS AT RIPPING YOUR HEART STRAIGHT OUT OF ITS RIBCAGE USING NOTHING BUT COMPELLING, ROMANCEABLE CHARACTERS AND BADASS EPIC ADVENTURES. IN FACT, EVEN HIS VILLAINS ARE SEXY AS F*CK. JUST CHECK OUT THIS VAMPIRE FROM ONE OF HIS CAMPAIGNS:

THIS MURDER MOMMY IS ABSOLUTELY ABOUT TO KILL ME AND MY ONLY RESPONSE WILL BE TO THANK HER. HER NAME IS THE COUNTESS STRAHD AND SHE IS COLD AS SHE IS HOT. TEMPERATURE PUNS!!!

NOT YOUR STYLE?!?! WE RESPECT YOUR PREFERENCES AND HUMBLY RECOMMEND AVELINE BAMBRIDGE.

AVELINE'S AN AVID MASK COLLECTOR, ARCANE WAR CRIMINAL, AND FIERCE ADVOCATE OF WOMEN'S WRONGS. YOU CAN MEET HER IN MASKS OF AVELINE.

OR MAYBE YOU WANT TO EXERCISE YOUR GOD-GIVEN RIGHT TO BE THE BADDIE ALL BY YOURSELF???!?? THEN IT'S TIME TO SOLVE SOME MAGICAL NOIR CRIMES, MOTHERF*CKER.

BECOME A DETECTIVE INFUSED WITH THE MYTH OF YOUR CHOICE IN CITY OF MIST.

THIS ONE GIVES YOU MAGIC POWERS AND PLOT TWISTS, AND IT ALSO TALKS ABOUT THE WEATHER IN THE TITLE SO YOU KNOW IT'S DEEP AS SH*T.

OR MAYBE YOU'RE SAYING "F*CK READING, I WANT TO DO CRIMES AND BLOW UP SH*T". AND IF YOU SAID THAT, PLEASE CALL ME SO THAT WE CAN HANG OUT SOMETIME.

BUT ALSO CONSIDER JOINING OUTLAWS OF ALKENSTAR, A PATHFINDER ADVENTURE THAT FEELS LIKE THE CHAOS AND HILARITY OF THAT ONE VIDEO GAME YOU KNOW ME FROM, BORDER BREAK.

BENCOMPETENCE'S GAMES ARE INCLUSIVE AF AND BEGINNER-FRIENDLY, SO NEWCOMERS AND VETERANS WILL BOTH FEEL RIGHT AT HOME. THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU GET IN THERE AND KICK THE NARRATIVE'S ASS RIGHT IN ITS D*CK.

HE ALSO ASKED ME TO TELL YOU THAT SESSION 0'S ARE FREE. BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS, BECAUSE I REFUSE TO LEARN ANY NUMBERS INVENTED AFTER 4TH CENTURY B.C.

WANT TO JOIN A TABLE? THEN LISTEN UP, F*CKTRUCKS, BECAUSE IT'S LIST TIME:

FIGHT OR MAYBE MAKE OUT WITH HOT EVIL VAMPIRES IN CURSE OF STRAHD

I AM NOW OVERWHELMED BY THE VAMPIRE AGAIN AND FORGOT THE NEXT BULLET POINT

BE AVELINE'S DINNER GUEST AND ALSO MAYBE HER ARCH NEMESIS IN MASKS OF AVELINE. (MONDAY AND FRIDAY VERSIONS)

SOLVE MYSTERIES AND BE ATTRACTIVE IN CITY OF MIST

BLOW SH*T UP IN COWBOYS, CLOCKWORK, AND MAGIC.

THERE'S A LOT MORE TO SAY, BUT THE NERD WRITING THIS SCRIPT STARTED TALKING ABOUT CHARACTER SHEETS AND SOMETHING CALLED NARRATIVE AGENCY, SO I HAD TO BEAT HIM WITH A FOLDING CHAIR UNTIL HE STOPPED. YOU CAN HELP PAY FOR THE BODYCAST I PUT HIM IN BY SIGNING UP TODAY!

END OF ADVERTISEMENT.

3K notes · View notes

loggiepj · 7 months ago

Text

To Love A Lannister

chapter 9 | chapter 10

You had always thought being betrothed to the one you love would finally make you happy. The one you'd remember as you grew old. A memory you'd cherish forever.

Yet you never thought it would be a complete torture — wanting someone who doesn't want you. Not even a bit.

Queen Mother Cersei continued to ignore you through the days that come, as if you were a common guest in the Red Keep. Queen Margaery however, were already talking nonstop with you, asking how the two of you first met and interacted with each other.

Everyone had apparently heard the news. Tommen had avoided you. Jaime looked bitter everytime you saw him at dining halls and hear his father Lord Tywin discuss your engagement to Cersei and where to hold such event.

The Tyrells did not take it lightly at first, but knowing Ser Loras' character, the decision was for the best. In fact, the Tyrell Lord was happy he was set free from marrying the vicious queen, he'd always talk about inviting you both to see Highgarden to spend time as newlyweds.

Of course, there was always the talk about your sexuality and your special appendage, and you knew Cersei was shamed about all of it as she kept shoving glass of wine into her mouth, as if she needed to be drunk for that kind of conversation. You knew then her father meant this proposal as her punishment. And yours.

Tommen was crowned as King the following day, finally diminishing the gossip.

Yet, the continuing appearance of Jaime inside Cersei's chambers, or along side her at times, never not following her, only made your blood boil. Even after the engagement, he knew how to make you furious, he knew what was your weakest point.

One time you even stopped Jaime by holding unto his fake hand, making him almost stumble. He was about to follow Cersei into her chambers once again. You knew he was part of the Kingsguard, yet it didn't sit well on you for him to guard Cersei. You'd request Lord Tywin to change that once you had the courage.

"What are you doing?" you spat, glaring at the golden haired man.

"Following the Queen—"

"You don't have to do that," you interjected, maintaining your hold. "I trust another loyal Kingsguard can do your job."

He then laughed. "Are you jealous I might start another scandal?"

"You—"

"He's my Queensguard and my brother, Lady Y/n," Cersei spoke, making you both glance her way. "Let him go."

You swallowed a lump in your throat before your grasp weaken.

~~~

"I hear congratulations are in order," Tyrion said, laughing. "Here I thought you had listened to my advice. Yet you had to wear the noose or lay your head down unto the guillotine."

You sighed as you looked at the ground, kicking dirt after dirt. With nothing else to do and nowhere else to hide, you decided to visit Tyrion in his cells in the castle's dungeons.

"I . . . I don't know what I'm going to do," you said. "I . . . I have sent a raven to ask for my father's help. She . . . She doesn't . . . doesn't return my feelings."

"See, I told you she's cruel."

"I . . . I have loved her, you know. I . . . I know she has done terrible things in life, but I. . . I still find myself at a loss of words around her. My heart would still skip a beat every time she's near me. And I hate it. She's . . . She's my weakness and I hate it."

Tyrion looked at you sympathetically. "She's always adored when she doesn't deserve it."

You only stayed silent. Tyrion observed your dilemma and sighed. "I was once betrayed by the one I truly loved."

You glanced at him. "Surely you're not talking about Sansa—"

"No, no." He laughed. "Shae. She's a whore. I fell in love with a whore. And I truly believed my feelings were reciprocated. I should've trusted my gut that it was all a farce. I thought she was different. I thought she'd love a dwarf like me. Funny how that turned out when she told the court the other day how I was guilty in killing Joffrey."

You both stayed silent for a moment, regretting about your past actions.

"I mean, it can't be that bad, right?" you asked expectantly. "Marrying Cersei."

"She'd torment you, of course."

He coughed, leaning against the wall. "I want to feel sorry for you though. However, I might no longer be there to give my sympathies."

"What do you mean?"

"I requested for a trial by combat as a result of betrayal in court," he began. "And Cersei picked the Mountain as her champion."

You stared at him in disbelief. "The Mountain?"

The Mountain. Gregor Clegane. He was the largest, strongest and most feared man in Westeros. No one had ever outmatched him.

"You see, Y/n. When my sister hates someone, she'd do everything in her power to get rid of them. I have lost Bronn to my father's nicer offers. I lost my brother Jaime to Cersei even since birth, but I doubt he can even fight with one hand against the Mountain."

"What are you going to do then?"

"Well, Y/n," he said, smiling weakly. "I have always enjoyed having our talks, no matter how brief. But I believe this is goodbye."

~~~

You were heading back to your chambers when you accidentally bumped into Jaime only coming out from Cersei's. It made you push him against the nearby wall and clutch his armor.

You were envy, it wasn't a question anymore. You couldn't decipher how attached the twins were, and how no one could intervene.

"What do you think you're doing inside? Queensguard are supposed to stay outside the doors."

He chuckled, making you let him go. "She's in a good mood right now, Y/n. Don't try to break it."

"You—"

"I told you we have each other's backs no matter what," he went on in a whisper. "I know you'll be married one day. And one day, Cersei will finally bear another child. I'm sure you couldn't help but wonder once your son or daughter would be born with golden hair," he leaned closer into your ear, "Would it be yours or mine? Robert didn't notice. But I know you're clever enough to see."

The argument stopped when Cersei stepped out the door of her chambers. Your gazes met, and somehow underneath you could still see the Cersei you had known the past couple of weeks. And you knew then you had to let her go. For your own sanity. And hers.

What was once a hardened gaze softened as you stepped away from the Knight.

"Your Grace." You bowed at Cersei before hurriedly leaving.

~~~

You had avoided the Lannisters the following days. It was the only way you could move forward without getting affected. You knew you had to face them one day, but at the moment, you'd savor the time away from them.

At dinners, your seat was always empty, making Lord Tywin ask Oberyn of your daily activities.

You had found a secluded place in the Capital, one that's rarely visited. You could see the entire King's Landing from where you sat and wondered how you wanted to leave that place, how you wouldn't want to be tied down to Cersei in such a depressing place.

If she could only love you, her love would make this view bearable. But she didn't. She wouldn't.

You were still waiting for your father's response to your letter. The violent way was to offer Princess Myrcella, Cersei's daughter, in exchange. But you doubted Tywin would see that as a threat. And you knew you wouldn't choose that way anyway.

You met with Tyrion in his cells later that night when a certain idea finally came to you.

It was the only thing keeping you sane as you finally made your presence known inside the Red Keep. Oberyn even wondered why you were suddenly enthusiastic out of nowhere.

And even when you saw Cersei and Jaime as they entered the dining halls together, you didn't let it affect you. Oblivious of the way Cersei's eyes widened when she saw you at your seat, you went on talking to Margaery about her upcoming marriage to Tommen. You then could see why Cersei never liked Margaery. She was a parasite. And she thought you were too, marrying the Queen Mother and all.

~~~

Offer him Castle Yronwood. He'd set you free from the arrangement.

Yronwood. The castle you won fighting against the lords from the Stormlands when you were young. It was the reply your father sent to your raven.

You knew you had to offer it to Tywin to set you and Cersei free. She wouldn't ever have to marry anyone she doesn't like. She wouldn't have to marry you.

Deep in your thoughts, you didn't notice Cersei approaching you in the balcony.

You greeted and stepped back as she approached the railing and stared at the horizon.

The Queen would always stay beautiful in your eyes, no matter how ugly she was inside.

"Can't sleep?"

You shook your head. "Been thinking a lot."

She snorted a soft chuckle. "Aren't we all these days?"

You smiled at the horizon. There was a long silence before you spoke, "Don't you feel like running away from all this?"

"To where?"

"Anywhere."

"Having cold feet?"

And you laughed, realizing she was referring to your marriage.

"I am not," you managed to reply. "It would be an insult to deny your hand, Your Grace."

She looked at you. "Why are you still nice to me when I'm nothing but awful to you?"

You fell silent as you avoided her gaze. She went on. "Kindness is a weakness, Y/n. For women like us. You should know that by now."

You could see Jaime on the grounds below, talking at another Kingsguard and when you finally looked at Cersei, she was also looking at him. And if your heart could only break more, it would.

"I am cold," you announced as you shivered, stepping away from the Queen. "I'm heading back inside. And I suggest you do too, Your Grace. It won't be wise to catch a cold these days."

"Y/n?"

You stopped in your tracks. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Nothing happened between me and Jaime," she said, making you glance at her. She sported a genuine look in her face. Yet, you didn't know if you should believe her or not. Maybe, she did care for you. Or maybe she's scared you'd tell her father about it.

But what was the difference if she was saying the truth. She didn't want you. She'd never love you. She hadn't ever loved you once. And you knew that now.

"It's okay, Cersei." You gave her a weak smile before leaving.

~~~

"What the seven hells is this, Y/n?" Oberyn's yell surprised you when you entered the breakfast hall where the Martells dine the next morning. Ellaria was holding back his hand as if to control his temper. But you knew, she had no chance of doing that.

You then looked at the scroll he threw at you, giving him a sarcastic smile before reading the contents.

"Your father would kill me, Y/n!" he said. "The Mountain would kill you."

Yes, you had offered yourself as Tyrion's champion for his upcoming trial.

"I had to help him, Oberyn. Someone has to help him—"

"It doesn't have to be you!"

"Come on, my dear," Ellaria interrupted, rubbing Oberyn's chest to calm him down. "I'm sure Y/n can still back down-"

"And let the innocent man die? There's no justice in the world unless we make it."

You had never seen Oberyn this furious before. And you were at the receiving end. He then looked around the soldiers and ordered, "Leave us."

You then added once the Dornish soldiers had left, "Besides, Cersei won't get to marry me if I die—"

"You can't die, Y/n. Not in my watch. I won't let you die," he said with gritted teeth.

"Thank you for your support. I can fight well on my own—"

"The Mountain has his own mind. He only knows two things, and that is to kill and kill."

"I've fought worse enemies than him, you know that, Oberyn."

"You can't die because you are one of the rightful heirs to the throne," he said in a whisper.

"What?"

"You're my brother Doran's bastard daughter."

"Our cousin Prince Doran? You must be losing your mind."

"He had an affair before Robert's Rebellion, before the Mad King became madder. And Doran had no idea, of course. Still has no idea. For he would have given you away, Y/n. Your mother hid you under her Maester's care in the Capital, but before your mother left for Dragonstone, she sent for me to take you to Dorne. Me and Elia took you to Y/f/n, a distant relative of ours, under your father's care."

"Why would he give me away?"

"Because your house was meant to be removed from existence. Because you weren't supposed to be alive. Your mother is none other than Rhaella Targaryen."

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister #game of thrones #g!p reader #angst #song of ice and fire

196 notes · View notes

thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 1 year ago

Text

I don't know you anymore (maybe I never really did)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: fluff, angst (happy ending to come)

warnings: slytherin reader, some serious emotional dodging and avoidance but you know me it all ends up ok, peter is your bestie and that's just the way it is sorry, no happy ending YET but I promise it's coming this is not a tragedy

a/n: happy ending next week I love y'all too much to leave you with heartache

"Sorry, love," Remus begins to bend down, hand reaching to pick up the book you'd dropped when the two of you collided in the library, but you quickly shoot your own hand out to snatch it up first. "What are you doing here this late?"

"Getting a book," you say plainly. Remus's brows furrow slightly, his eyes drifting over your figure as if to somehow see why you're acting so strangely.

"Alright, dove. We're all planning on studying pretty late tonight - you're welcome to join us. We can always sneak you back down to the dungeons whenever you're ready to call it a night." Remus is quiet when he talks, that soothing, soft air he has about him making your shoulders drop as you lean against the bookshelf next to you.

"As if I can't sneak myself around the castle without your help," you bite back playfully. A smile twitches across Remus's lips as he thinks, just for a moment, that you're back, that you'll follow him up to his common room and spend the night laying on a couch with him, your legs slung over James's lap while you throw wads of paper at Sirius's head. His heart thumps a little painfully when he realizes that he can't remember the last time you've done that with them - he can't remember the last time you've hung out with them at all.

It's as if you remember that fact at the same time he does, as the faint smile slips off your face and you straighten. "I can't tonight," you say kindly. "But thank you." Remus blinks as you begin to move past him, your polite voice ringing through his head. Like we're strangers, he thinks weakly. Except you're not even that nice to strangers.

Remus is busy slouching against the nearest bookshelf and wondering what they possibly could have done to make you avoid them so desperately but so kindly when he hears you let out another sigh from where you've walked past him.

"Wow," Sirius drawls as Remus turns to see him and James standing in front of you and you pointedly looking past them, like you're a trapped animal searching for the nearest escape route. "I'd almost forgotten you go here still." Your gaze snaps to Sirius and you narrow your eyes at him.

"It's good to see you," James interjects, seeing the two of you size each other up and eager to avoid a showdown between you and Sirius. "How have you been, love?"

"You see me in class almost every day," you snipe back at Sirius before turning to James. "I've been busy, and I still am now so - if you'll excuse me." With that, you slip between the two of them, exiting the library swiftly. Remus sighs and Sirius scowls at the now empty doorway, James opting to look down at the floor, staring dejectedly like a kicked puppy. No doubt you're holing up down in the Slytherin dorms all night now - as far away as you can get from them. Sirius smoothes a hand over James's unruly curls as Remus squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.

"We'll figure this out," he says gently, and as Sirius looks at him, he begs himself to believe it.

"You lost, Pete?" You don't look up from your book as Peter plants himself in the seat opposite you, frowning at you.

"Like we've never had breakfast together before," he huffs back, and you can't stop the smile that flits across your lips at the confidence that he's so clearly been nurturing. You close your book with a thump and place your chin in your hand, staring at him and waiting for him to continue. "Half the time, you're at the Gryffindor table. It can't be so different for me to come over here."

"Hm, maybe it's not," you shrug, picking your book back up to toss it across the table at him. "Read the back of that. You can borrow it when I'm done - I think you'll like it." Peter picks it up tentatively and gets about halfway through the synopsis before he's dropping it back on the table and crossing his arms.

"You're making them miserable," he says bluntly. You pout in a mocking sort of manner, but Peter's frown tells you that he doesn't believe you're as heartless as you typically let on.

"I thought you just came here to have breakfast with me," you switch tactics.

"Tell me what's going on with you," he pushes. You straighten up in your seat.

"Why don't you just ask them?"

"I have - they don't know. Every time they try to talk to you about it, you find some reason to run away."

"Would you like to see that first hand?"

"You can't run away from me. I'll cry," Peter insists. You sniff indignantly, mostly because you know he's right. The two of you stare at each other for a long time, and it's to your surprise that he doesn't waver. Your heart does something strange in your chest when you realize that his determination may be because this is more serious than you'd thought - you're hurting them more than you thought.

"They need to get over me, Pete," you say quietly.

"Why?" He presses.

"Because if they don't then this gets messy. None of us want that," you insist. Peter softens a bit, looking sympathetic.

"It's already messy." The bite has left Peter's voice as he reaches to pat your arm across the table. You look at his hand pointedly and he's reminded swiftly that anyone else who reached out to console you like that would get a smack from you. He smiles as he thinks of the kindness that lives in you that you seem to be blind to.

"I'll talk to them," you sigh, leaning forward to let your head thump down onto the table. Peter pats the top of your head gently and, for that, he does get a smack.

"James," your voice makes him stumble to a stop, whipping around to look at you so fast that you nearly run into him, sidestepping him at the last minute as he looks at you, bewildered.

"Are you talking to me?" He asks, confusion and surprise making his voice thick. Something painful twinges in your chest at his shock. Of course I am, you want to say. Who else would I ever want to talk to?

"Yes," is all you end up saying. James shifts on his feet and looks at you a little wearily.

"Are you ok?" He asks and a breath leaves your lungs quickly.

"I'd like to talk to you… if you have a moment?" James looks at you strangely, but he just nods and leads you out of the hall to the quiet courtyard. There's no, of course I have time for you, pretty thing. I always have time for you. It's just James, stiff and silent and hurting… because of you.

"Peter says I'm making you all miserable," you say bluntly, regret immediately seeping into you at the way James flinches, sitting on the bench in front of you slowly. You stay standing in front of him, looking down at the way he runs a hand through his curls.

"It's just," he begins, looking around as if to find the answer somewhere, or maybe just to find some way of getting away from you. "If we knew what we'd done to upset you then maybe we could make it better. You're just freezing us out, lovely, and that means we can't fix… whatever it is that's happened."

"It's not…" Now it's your turn to look around vaguely, wishing you could get out from under his sharp gaze. "It's not anything you've done. It's just - it's the way things go sometimes. It's ok, James, you just have to move on." But James's face hardens at that, a sternness you're not used to overtaking his features as he stands so that he can look you eye to eye. You have to tilt your head back to look up at him.

"That's what you want us to do? Just… move on? Forget about you? Pretend we were never friends?" The sombre tone in his voice doesn't suit him, and neither does the timid hurt in yours.

"Are we friends, James? Is that what we all are?" James blinks at that, taking a step back and sitting back down onto the bench rather abruptly. When he looks up at you this time, there's something akin to remorse swimming in his eyes.

"Is that what it is, lo-" the pet name dies on his tongue as he presses his lips together firmly. "I'm sorry. I thought - we all thought that you felt the same way about us that we do about you. We thought… we thought we were all more than friends with you and that you… I'm sorry. We never dreamt of making you uncomfortable." You scoff at his words, shaking your head fondly and toeing at the dirt by his feet with your shoe.

"Uncomfortable?" You say disbelievingly. "Please - you three are the biggest gentlemen I've ever met. I don't think you could make me uncomfortable if you tried." James's shoulders sag in relief, but the look he gives you is still that of a lost, confused puppy. You look past him to see a group of students hurrying to their next class and open your mouth to remind James that the two of you also are officially late, but he speaks before you can.

"Then what is it? Please, just… what did we do?"

"It's like I said, James… it's just a bad idea. It's wrong and I can't do this. I… we have to get to class."

But James doesn't go to class that day. He sits on that bench, staring at the place you'd been standing in, until Remus and Sirius find him that evening. And as the two of them tug him up and inside, all he can think of is how they really have lost you.

912 notes · View notes

shushmal · 10 months ago

Text

Stranger to Myself (I think of Home)

For @steddie-week Day 5! Rated T — Check the tags and content warnings!

Eddie is a monster.

Eddie started watching Steve because it didn’t hurt so bad. Didn’t hurt like it does with every glimpse he catches of Wayne, of Dustin. The people who had loved Eddie when he was Eddie. But Steve—Steve was safe. Steve was a boy Eddie knew in passing glances and high school gossip, a guy who was laughing with his friends in another room at every party, a man who planted his feet and fought monsters and helped save the world. Steve who told Eddie to be safe, because Steve was kind when he didn't have to be, when he wasn't expected to—so Eddie finds himself watching Steve instead.

Because Eddie is a monster, and Steve knows exactly what to do with monsters. Eddie knows this.

To Steve, it wouldn't matter that Eddie is the last little bit of the apocalypse still kicking around Hawkins. Eddie who had been chewed up and spat out of hell at the last second, just before the final dungeon slammed shut, sneaking through the shadows unseen, past the unsuspecting heroes wrapped up in their victory. Past his friends, the people who had tried to keep Eddie safe. Past Dustin, who’s face had already been changed by grief.

Past Steve, as well. Steve, who told Eddie to be safe, and Eddie hadn’t.

Eddie wonders sometimes, what Vecna really had in mind for him.

But Eddie is just an unfinished experiment, not quite who he used to be, but not yet the thing Vecna had been trying to twist him into, before the wrinkly ballsack bastard bit it and disintegrated into dust like some b-grade horror movie villain written by some unimaginative hack that shouldn’t have even been in the writer’s room.

He’s the last piece of the Upside Down, Vecna’s last monster, but Eddie’s worst crime post-resurrection is a bit of misdemeanor stalking, simple battery, and animal cruelty. A guy’s gotta eat, afterall. It had taken a while to figure out his own exact brand of vampirism, but Eddie’s gone a few years now without killing anything or anyone. He would be proud of it, but instead he watches Steve make dinner and feels sick on the aftertaste of iron and salt still coating his tongue.

Eddie had started watching Steve because it didn’t hurt, because Steve would take care of it, if Eddie ever needed to be put down. Eddie knows this.

So, it didn’t hurt so bad to watch Steve—until it did.

By then, Eddie was too far gone and couldn’t stop.

His Steve who came back to his lonely castle, days and days after that final battle, after the climax of the story, the end of a legend, still bloody and scorched, none the wiser to the monster peering through his windows, watching. And that was Eddie’s first clue, that was how Eddie first learned that he wasn’t really Eddie anymore—that nervous energy he used to have in life had died with him. Now he sits motionless in the tall pines behind Steve’s house for hours and days, unmoving, as he watches Steve live.

Sometimes, Steve looks out his window, eyes scanning the treetops like he knows Eddie’s there. Everytime, Eddie sits up a little straighter, like a dog eager for attention. But everytime, Steve’s eyes drift past him, unseeing, searching.

It leaves Eddie—already out of step with life, with humanity—a little unsettled, a little too hopeful. Eddie is a thing that shouldn’t be seen ever again, a dead man without a heartbeat, without breath in his lungs, without a reason to exist and yet still here. He wishes he were still dead. He wishes even more that Steve knew he was there, that Steve was looking for him. But Eddie knows better. Eddie can’t go to Steve, because Eddie is a monster and Steve has fought enough monsters. Eddie doesn’t want to get added to the list. He doesn’t want to do that to Steve.

Eddie sits in the trees instead, unmoving and watching for days and weeks. Sometimes he leaves, to feed. Sometimes he stands in the middle of Steve’s empty house when he’s gone, breathing in the lonely silence. Sometimes, he closes his eyes and dreams.

But they’re never his own dreams.

And he never, ever visits anyone else in their sleep, in their dreams and nightmares. No one, except for Steve. His Steve, who’s dreaming of a summer day, sun high in the sky, sitting on the top of skull rock with a six pack and a cigarette. It’s such a simple, beautiful dream. All of Steve’s dreams are like that. Eddie watches the line of Steve’s neck as he tilts his head back in the sunlight, face catching the July warmth.

Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie sits beside him. Just leans in until his head rests on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful, Eddie wants to cry.

“I miss you,” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. He presses a smile into Eddie’s jacket. “Isn’t that silly? I barely even knew you.”

Eddie has to swallow back the emotion filling his throat. “Yeah, that’s pretty silly,” he croaks.

“I wanted to though,” Steve sighs. He leans even closer, hands grasping at Eddie’s sleeve, the back of his shirt, and Eddie wishes they could melt into each other, become one thing, become Steve with just Eddie hiding between Steve’s ribs, in his blood, sitting in the center of his chest right next to his heart. “I wanted to know you. I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

If this were real, if they were really sitting on skull rock in the sunlight right now, if Eddie was human, he would be crying. But here, in Steve’s dream, he doesn’t, can’t. Maybe Steve doesn’t want him to be sad.

“Really?” he breathes instead. “Me?”

Steve hums, his hand sliding down into Eddie’s, fingers warm, soft. “Robin calls you my Great Bisexual Awakening.”

Eddie barks a laugh, throwing his head back. He wants to be sobbing, but he laughs instead and when he stops, Steve is looking up at him, painted dream soft and sweet. They watch each other, Eddie cataloging the specks of gold and green in Steve’s eyes. He’s beautiful.

But then Steve blinks, and the corner of his mouth turns down, smile falling away. Eddie feels his skin prickle. He feels watched.

“I miss you,” Steve says again, urgent. And then, just like that, he smiles again, and the feeling’s gone, and Steve presses his face once more into Eddie’s shoulder. “Tell me something.”

Eddie tries to shake off the feeling of disquiet, to relax back into the tenderness of Steve’s dream. “Like what?”’

“Something I don’t know.” He’s beautiful, so beautiful, and Eddie adores him, loves him so much.

“I wanted to kiss you, too.”

Eddie opens his eyes, his breath sharp in the silent forest, and watches as Steve sits up in his bed, gripping the blankets tight in his fists. Even from here, in his haven in the trees, he can see the tears on Steve’s face. He never wants Steve to cry.

When morning comes, he steals into Steve’s home, buries himself in the lingering warmth of his sheets after Steve leaves for work. The fading smell of him is intoxicating, even the salty sting of Steve’s tears, and Eddie wants so desperately. Wants him from the pain in his throat, the hitch in his breath, the way he’s been hollowed from the inside out. Everything has been taken out of Eddie, scooped from between his ribs and scraped smooth, an empty jack o’lantern waiting to rot on the front step.

The wanting is worse than the starving, the thirst. Eddie can’t cry anymore, he isn’t human enough to, but he wishes he could.

Instead, he lays in Steve’s bed, breathes him in, and disappears into the woods behind Steve’s home when he hears the rumble of Steve’s car turn onto the street. He watches as Steve falls into the bed, long gone cold since Eddie has soaked up all the warmth from the blankets in the long hours of Steve's absence. He watches, a monster, as Steve’s eyes glance through the window, eyes on the trees. Straightens up, hoping and wanting, and slumps as that gaze slides past him. He watches Steve’s evening with longing building in his chest, and when Steve slips beneath his covers, Eddie closes his eyes.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks.

Steve is sitting on the edge of his roof in this dream, watching the forest intently. He doesn’t turn his head towards Eddie, caught on a particular spot in the woods.

“You, I think. At least, I think it’s you. I hope it’s you.”

Eddie leans in close, hoping that Steve will turn his eyes, to look at Eddie, to give him that sweet, dreamy smile. “You shouldn’t bother waiting for something like me,” he tells Steve, desperate for those pretty eyes to look at him. “You should be happy.”

“I am happy,” Steve murmurs. He doesn’t look happy. He doesn’t look at Eddie. He watches the distant trees, standing guard. “I’m happy waiting. I think I can wait forever.”

Eddie doesn’t dare touch him, doesn’t dare turn Steve’s head. Even though it hurts. It hurts so bad, so Eddie opens his eyes. In the distance, Steve turns in his bed, chest expanding with a sleepy sigh, and doesn’t leave his dreams.

Morning comes again, and the night falls again, morning and night and morning. Eddie rises from his perch, glides closer to the empty house to steal through the unlocked door. He lays in Steve’s bed, in the shadow of Steve’s warmth left on the sheets. Breathes him in, even though Eddie needs no air. He leaves when he hears the rumble of a familiar engine. Night falls. He closes his eyes.

Eddie watches the way Steve sits on the edge of his roof again, feet dangling, eyes scanning the treeline at the back of his house, quiet and sentry. Like he’s waiting for another monster to appear between the tree trunks. Eddie sits beside him, and doesn’t speak, not even when Steve whispers, only once.

“I miss you.”

Morning comes again, and then night. Sun and moon, wax and wane. The summer heat does not bother Eddie, nor does the winter snow. He imagines building a family of snowmen in Steve’s yard, company for a lonely house. No one visits Steve here. Like they’d forgotten Steve altogether, and Eddie’s the only one left to bear witness to Steve Harrington. Steve who is lonely, who sleeps and dreams and waits for the monster in the woods. Or maybe…

Maybe Steve told them not to come here. Because here is only for Steve, and only for Eddie.

Night falls, and then the morning breaks. Steve doesn’t rise from the bed.

Uneasily, Eddie shifts. Snow slides from his shoulders, landing in heavy thumps on the forest floor below him. He watches as Steve rolls onto his back, arm over his eyes, mouth twisted in pain. Even from here, he can see the tears on Steve’s face. He watches Steve lay in bed the entire day, until night falls. Eddie closes his eyes.

Steve’s dream isn’t a dream this time—a vast darkness instead, stretching long and far. Eddie takes a hesitant step. Water splashes beneath his bare foot. He turns.

And suddenly, it’s like he can hear Steve in his ear, whispering, “I’m happy waiting. I think I can wait forever.”

Eddie turns again, and Steve is there, watching, waiting. Eddie feels the instinct of it, the prickling awareness of being seen. It settles over his skin, sharp and biting like ants. Eddie is the monster, and Steve has found him. His gaze roots Eddie where he stands, water lapping against his toes. The ripples roll away from him, stretching the unreachable distance between Eddie and Steve, distant stars, until they crash against Steve’s feet, and the water settles again, falls calm.

“I miss you though,” Steve whispers, right into Eddie’s ear. “I can wait forever, but I miss you.”

“Really?” Eddie asks. It echoes through the dark. He can see the way Steve smiles, even from so far away.

“Of course,” Steve whispers. “I’m waiting for—”

Dawn breaks through the trees, and Eddie opens his eyes with a gasp. The sound is sharp through the silent forest. Morning mist rises from the pine strewn ground. Steve isn’t in his bed anymore, and Eddie feels himself almost panic, gaze searching.

Searching, until he finds Steve, not even three feet up, sitting above his window on the roof. He stares out into the trees, stares right at Eddie, finally sees the monster in the woods. That gaze raises the hair on Eddie’s arm, animal instinct tightening his muscles, his bones. Steve watches him from his perch on the roof, watches Eddie watch him back.

He’s the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen.

Because Steve’s not standing guard. He’s waiting. Waiting for the thing in the woods, for Eddie to finally come home.

Eddie shouldn’t, shouldn’t go to him, but now that he knows, how can he make Steve wait a moment longer?

Steve gasps when he appears, but it’s not fear in his eyes when he looks at Eddie. Eddie feels it again, feels watched, feels seen. Steve looks up at him and his smile is the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen.

“There you are,” he whispers. “I missed you."

#steddie #steddie week 2024 #my fic #this is genuinely one of my favorite things i've written in a long time #so im posting the whole thing on tumblr too in case you don't wanna go to ao3 ahaha #this is super soft dw

242 notes · View notes

babydray777 · 6 months ago

Text

party girl

draco x slyth!fem summary: draco and y/n has been going in and out of their weird friendship/situationship/enemiship? they had. one night she decides to go out, secretly wishing for him to come so they can have some little fun between cups. even though he disagrees, she finds a surprise once she arrives to the common room already planning to go to bed. warnings: idk mention of marihuana and alcohol? wc: 1.1k

The heels resonated in the hallway with their specific echo.

My friend by my side, giggling and trying to keep it low as we were not supposed to be out of our common room so late at night. Theo and a Ravenclaw boy a few steps from us, speaking about something unknown to me and honestly impossible to understand in the current state of my mind.

We arrived to the little stair that lowered down to the dungeons and we stop. Hayley hugged me and the other ravenclaw boy by her side said their goodbyes.

“Don’t be a stranger, y/l/n. Gryffindor party next weekend!”

I laughed a little and we leave them to go straight away to their common room.

Theo and I started to walk down into the dungeons and the only thing I could get my mind into was the peace I was going to experiment once I got into my bed.

We had been into a little party at the Hufflepuffs, Hayley, who was a Ravenclaw, was my favorite party duo but anyone at my Slytherin friend group was in the mood for some drinks and cool music.

I was disappointed at the beginning, Pansy has led me down over the objection of not wanting to cross paths with some ravenclaws she disliked, Blaise was tired, and by far the worst, Draco was an annoying straight edge prick who decided he was too much for a stupid hufflepuff party.

But here was Theo, who would have never rejected the slight possibility of a clandestine wild night at the Hogwarts castle.

So now, after a few joints at the beginning and a few more drinks alongside the night, we were walking back to our common room, tired and drunk, charting nonsense about the funny face that the portraits made when they surprised you out at night.

“Shut it, Nott.” I said whispering between laughter once we finally entered the common room. “They are going to kick us out of school”

He replied with a little short laugh and turned to the right to leave to the boy’s dorms. “Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow y/n” He smiled a little and left.

“See you”

I walked a few steps into the common room to reach the stairs that led to the girls room. A drunk smile on my face as I remembered the jokes. I was completely into my own mind when a quick gaze to the fireplace catch me something unexpected.

The back view of a blonde head lying in the couch, he seemed to be like sleeping in a position that would make anyone cause the most annoying back pain in the morning. I debated with myself how good of a person I was cause the options ware to go and wake him or going straight to bed.

Sadly, I held pretty a deep affection for the platinum boy behind my own personal comfort, so I walked towards him.

I smiled a little as I saw him there, lying on the couch completely unconscious with his head resting on his arm. His mouth slightly open as he breathed in a calm rythm. He looked so peaceful that nobody could recognize the same Draco Malfoy that was always so tense and angry at the world around him.

I sit by his side and put my hand in his shoulder, kind of rubbing it to make him wake up. “Draco” I whispered.

A slight sound came out of his mouth, like a groan. He frowned in his sleep. “Huh?” He recovered his consciousness a little, moving in the couch as he fought to open his eyes.

“You need to go to your dorm” I whispered again

“y/n?” He took a deep breath and sit properly on the couch, with his eyes still fighting to open up completely. “You smell of alcohol” He murmured half sleep.

I smiled and rolled my eyes. God this boy couldn’t stop being annoying even when sleepwalking.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.” I put myself up off the couch and grabbed his hand to make him stood. He did it, still half sleep but walking instantly. “What were you doing on the couch? It’s three in the morning.”

“I thought you were arriving earlier, to be honest.” He replied with a raspy voice.

“Draco Malfoy waiting for me? What a gentleman!”

We arrived to the stair that led to the boys dorm and he stood there, lying on the wall as he completely opened his eyes a little more awake.

“I regretted not going to that party, I should have come with you, not Theo”

He looked at me with those piercing blue eyes. My world was spinning around me, dizzy from the wine, but his face was static and serious, I couldn’t keep my eyes away from his.

“I had a good time with Theo”

“You would have had a better time with me.” He replied.

The was he was pinning his eyes at me made me crumble. He was not joking and at the same time fighting for not crumbling down the wall and sleep on the floor.

“Come on, you are tired. Go to bed.” I murmured and smiled a bit. Before leaving I got closer and put a little kiss on his cheek.

Draco seemed like being put out of a dream as how he recompose himself. I turned around to walk to my dorm.

Before I made a single step, I felt something grabbing my wrist, his hand was pinning it and made me turn around.

“Wait” He murmured. From looking straight at me he suddenly turned his gaze to the floor, I was expecting him to continue as my heart raced in my chest. His grab was secure and firm though his attitude was shy and cute, debating with himself whether to speak or not, it made me appreciate him a lot more in the course of a second. “Want to sleep with me tonight?” He finally let out. “I mean… I don’t want to do anything just… Maybe just cuddle. I thought I could ask you that so I waited reading in the couch but I didn’t know you would come so late and I fell sleep but…”

“Okay, okay.” I cut him with a smile. His anxious effort to explain would have lasted hours otherwise and it was enough humbling for Draco Malfoy that night. “I accept your cuddle proposal, Malfoy. You just don’t need to sacrifice your back next time.” “Oh shut up, y/l/n.” He recomposed himself into his own character and now grabbed my hand. “Come on, follow me.”

#draco x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy au #draco malfoy boyfriend #slytherin au #slytherin #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy one shot #draco fanfiction #theodore nott #harry potter headcanon #draco malfoy headcanon #hogwarts au #hogwarts houses #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter au #hogwarts legacy #slytherin boys

93 notes · View notes

batmanisagatewaydrug · 4 months ago

Text

reading update: december 2024

it's here, baby! the final reading roundup of 2024, and the last nine books I read!

what I read:

The Daughters of Izdihar (Hadeer Elsbai, 2023) - I really want to get back into my big chunky fantasy novel kick, and this was a fun one! I will fully admit I almost got turned off by the first chapter or two when the worldbuilding exposition and the fantasy feminism didn't quite sell me right away, but I stuck around and ultimately had a really good time. Daughters of Izdihar follows two young women from very different social classes, Nehal and Giorgina, who are navigating their lives amidst a burgeoning suffrage moment in an Egypt-inspired country. on top of the class and gender of it all, we have the extra element of "weaving," with weavers having the ability to exert influence over different classical elements - think bending, but legally distinct. Elsbai's weavers are a nice change of pace re: fantasy discrimination, being neither universally adored nor reviled but rather occupying a unique, often precarious niche in society that is most fraught for poor women like Giorgina. I found myself increasingly pulled in to the story and delighted to have found such a fun standalone, only to reach the wiiiiild cliffhanger ending and realize it was the first book of a duology this whole time. and apparently the sequel has been out since March of 2024? cool cool cool cool cool cool cool. add another one to the TBR!

Rejection (Tony Tulathimutte, 2024) - I read Tulathimutte's short story "The Feminist" YEARS AGO and have been a little haunted by it ever since, so I was stoked to hear that it had been incorporated into this collection of loosely interconnected short stories. "The Feminist" was striking in its ability to so viscerally capture the inner workings of a deeply unpleasant person whose brain has been absolutely scorched by the nastiest workings of the internet, but I hadn't seen ANYTHING yet. I posted about "Ahegao" here and still can't rave about it enough; it's a slow burn into utter absurdity that ends with a swift kick to the head. to say nothing of Tulathimutte weaving himself into the narrative of the book and, ultimately, rejecting himself, including as the final piece of the book a fictional rejection letter offering scathing criticism of the previous works. reading it made me feel lightheaded; this book is so nastily brilliant.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 13-14 (Ryoko Kui 2023-2024, trans. Taylor Engel) - god, what a great story. Kui builds such a rich and (god, pardon the pun) flavorful world, with so much nuance and texture given to every layer. you won't find any unquestioned reliance on old high fantasy tropes here; it feels as if Kui has truly turned over every stone in the genre to poke at and play with what lays underneath to make something original. the exploration of desire and hunger and the ways in which food itself fundamentally inextricable from life got me so so good, and I'm going to be so emo about Laois and Marcille's freak asses forever.

Allow Me to Introduce Myself (Onyi Nwabineli, 2024) - one of the only strikeouts of December, to me. the premise is compelling, following a British Nigerian woman in her 20s who is struggling to crawl out from beneath the shadow of being raised in the public eye by a white stepmother who turned her interracial family into fodder for a highly successful mommy blog, but ultimately it falls flat for me. the book feels unfocused and unsure, meandering around until it comes to an ending that is, frankly, far too tidy.

Funny Story (Emily Henry, 2024) - this romance novel has been topping a LOT of lists of 2024's best romances and even making appearances on lists of 2024's best books overall, so needless to say I was afraid of the hype. to my absolute shock and delight, Funny Story actually managed to live up to the praise and then some, turning the seemingly outlandish premise (a man and a woman become roommates after they're each unceremoniously dumped so their exes can elope, lie about dating each other, romance ensues) and make it sincerely charming. our protagonists, Daphne and Miles, are shockingly grounded for the leads of such an unlikely story, and navigate their grief and subsequent half-assed fake relationship in ways that feel winningly believable. Daphne shines as she learns to stand on her own outside of the certainty her former fiancee provided, and Miles would be the singular most fuckable man in any romance novel I've ever read if not for his unfortunate dedication to wearing crocs all the time.

The Uclaimed: Abandonment and Hope in the City of Angels (Pamela Prickett and Stefan Timmermans, 2024) - a surprisingly tender work of narrative nonfiction that explores the lives and deaths of four individuals whose bodies weren't claimed by any next of kin, and what ultimately became of them after. Prickett and Timmermans treat their subjects with incredible care, going to great pains to speak with those who cared for their subjects and depict them as full people with worthwhile lives, examining the families they lost and the systems that failed them as they found themselves alone at the ends of their lives. a great read if you want to get really emo OR really mad about how the United States' exceedingly narrow legal definition of family leaves so many people unprotected in times of need!

Him (Geoff Ryman, 2023) - yeah this is the trans!Jesus book I read on Christmas that isn't even really about Jesus being trans but is about Jesus being sort of a softcore eldritch nightmare man living the most confusing and inscrutable life that anyone had ever lived. I don't know if this book is particularly accurate to either the Bible or the Torah and I truly don't think it matters; Ryman is doing his own thing and I love his little freak Jesus. genuinely I'm obsessed with that guy, nothing has ever made me like Jesus as much as watching him have the most terrible time.

Someone You Can Build a Nest In (John Wiswell, 2024) - god this book is so charming and so fun and it's a romp in so many places. I do really truly adore our protagonist, Shesheshen, who's an curmudgeonly shapeshifting goo monster with a penchant for building herself new body parts out of the spare bits of people that she's killed and eaten. she is, against all logic, crushing hard on a kind woman who recently saved her life while believing Shesheshen to be a human, and that woman has naturally turned out to be a monster hunter (evidently, perhaps, not the most astute one). there's so much gory whimsy here, and so much to like. and yet. and YET. it goes just a little too long for me (the novel is a strong candidate for a work that would have fared better as a pared down novella) and it is, in times, gratingly on the nose with spelling out "x behavior is abuse and abuse is Bad." still very fun though, solid B from me.

that's it!!! that's a wrap for 2024, I'll see you again at the end of January to check in and see how those book bingo sheets are coming along!

#reading updates

60 notes · View notes

comicaurora · 1 year ago

Note

You've mentioned before about how Dainix growing up in a society of all magic-users was difficult for him, is there anything you think is interesting about him adapting to that surrounding? Like, does he carry around means of manually creating fire with him (like flint); and is creating fire via anything other than magic something most other ignans would even know? What kind of things can most of his peers do that he has to ask for help for or find other ways of making it work, aside from general fire-blasts?

(Also, as a disabled writer, I think fantasy/sci-fi disabilities are an underutilized goldmine of worldbuilding & characterizarion, and I really like the way you integrate it into Aurora.)

I asked myself that when I was choreographing the Zombie Dungeon Funtime Adventure! When they lost the light source I knew Dainix would need to replace it in order to navigate in the dark without Falst, but I concluded he actually wouldn't be carrying firestrikers. Even if he personally couldn't magically create fire, he'd always been part of a team of people who could. Instead, he had to strike sparks off the wall using his metal knife. Something he'll definitely prepare for in the future! (Falst always carries firestrikers, but Dainix doesn't know that and wasn't about to go digging in his pockets)

Fire magic the way most Ignans use it is fairly utilitarian, but some people specialize in useful ways - some Ignans can gain bursts of speed or altitude by kicking out fire jets from their feet, or manipulate fire's brightness and color in precise ways to create simple illusions. And even without the expectation of specialization, being unable to do even basic fire magic basically means Dainix always has one fewer weapon than his peers - no emergency last-ditch flashbang moves, no covering fire, no way to do field repairs on damaged metal or glass tools. It's part of why he's always so careful with his equipment, and why he's such a precise and observant fighter - he has no room for error and has to work harder to feel like he's measuring up.

#asks #aurora

382 notes · View notes

daddys-lil-princess-xo · 10 days ago

Text

The metal bars slide open with a loud clang. I stir from my slumber on the tiny cot provided to me, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The tiara on my head is askew, the dark curls it nestles in messy and tangled, and my expensive gown is all rumpled from having to sleep in it.

"Get up," the guard at the entrance to my cell growls from beneath his helmet, his sadistic, sickening grin the only part of his face visible to me. "The king wishes to see you."

I clutch my hands to my chest in fear but I do as I'm told, right as another pair of guards step into the dungeon and step towards my cell.

"Change into that," one of them snaps, throwing a skimpy gown that's barely more than ribbons and lace at me. I flinch, but the other one is holding a whip, the end of which is covered in barbs. I scrunch my eyes shut and hurriedly disrobe, trying not to cry as I hear the guards snickering and talking about my body. They comment on my breasts, my rear, my hips and waist, and it makes me want to shrink down so small that no one will notice me ever again.

But I don't want to be whipped, not when those sharp metal spikes will tear through my delicate skin and injure me, so I pull the skimpy gown on.

"Ah ah ah," says one guard, stepping closer until he's right in front of me. "You can't have these on." He pulls a knife from his belt and shoves his hand up the front of my dress. I squeak as I feel his fingers stroke my soft pussy through my panties, and I try to squirm away as he toys with my folds. The guards laugh again, and I grow red with embarrassment, the blush spreading across my cheeks and down my chest, but then there's the sound of tearing fabric and I feel a cool breeze on my lower lips. He cut my panties off. I'm completely bare down below, and the lace dress hides nothing, my soft, perfectly shaved cunt on display for anyone and everyone to see.

"Stop, please," I beg, but then they grab my arms and start hauling me out of the cell. I stumble along, my high heels clacking against the stone floor, and I let out a pitiful whimper as I realise that they're dragging me to the throne room. My throne room, where my throne is, where that usurper sits on it like he owns it. "Let me go, I am the princess, let me go-"

One of the guards, the one who woke me up, laughs and kicks me in the back of the knee, sending me stumbling forward and struggling to right myself.

"Some princess you are, considering you've been locked in that little cell all on your own for the last week. All that whimpering and whining, begging the gods for your brother to come save you? Face it, sweetheart. You're the king's property now."

We reach the throne room, my family's banners and decorations torn from the walls and replaced with those of that monster instead. I'm mercilessly thrown at the foot of the steps leading up to the throne, and I feel tears prick my eyes as the stone scrapes my skin and causes tiny cuts to bloom with blood. Defiantly, though, I raise my head. I am the rightful ruler of this kingdom. The throne he sits on is in fact mine. I cannot forget that.

My captor smirks down at me, his lips curving into a terrifying grin as he dismisses the guards. We're left alone, and as soon as the door closes, he gets to his feet.

"Well now, look at you," he snickers, and I am suddenly very, incredibly aware of how naked I am. How the lace hides nothing, how my nipples are hard, irritated points from being rubbed against by the fabric, how my clit pokes out from between my pussy lips and quivers with every small breeze sent across it. He strides slowly towards me, only stopping when he's standing right in front of my kneeling form, then his hand shoots out to grab my chin. He forces my head up, making me stare into his cold eyes. My father's crown is on his head. My stomach turns in revulsion.

"Let me go," I say, intending for it to come out strong and proud, but instead my voice is a shaking whimper, my lip wobbling as I feel my eyes filling with tears once more. "You are a traitor and a thief. That throne is mine, and you-"

Before I can finish my sentence, I feel a sharp stinging pain on my cheek, and a crack echoes through the room. Like skin on skin.

He just hit me.

"Shut up, you foolish girl," he snarls, grabbing my chin much tighter this time. "Your kingdom is in ashes. Your people are either dead or have bent the knee. You are the princess of nothing, ruler of no one."

There's a tearing sound, and as soon as I feel my whole torso raise in goosebumps, I realise he's just ripped the lace dress right down the front, leaving it hanging open. Before I can react, I'm shoved face first into the floor, then dragged up the stairs by my hair. It hurts. The tears I tried so valiantly to hold back spill free, and I struggle against his grip, but all that earns me is another slap and a harsher pull on my hair.

He throws me against the throne, shoving my face down into the cushion where my father once proudly sat, and I let out a pathetic bleat like a lamb being led to slaughter as his hands grip each of my soft thighs and force me to spread myself wide.

He laughs, a cruel sound that makes me flinch, and I cry out in shame as he drags a thick finger over my slit.

"Look at that, you're leaking like a brothel whore. I thought you were a virgin, not some slut who gets off on being thrown around."

"I am a virgin!" I cry pathetically, my hands gripping the throne's velvet cushion as I try to squirm away from his touch. "I've never so much as had anyone look there!"

"Then aren't I the lucky one, getting to break in such a valuable hole," he sneers, and his hand comes down on my ass so hard that my knees buckle for a moment and I yelp. My juices spray across the floor in an arc, soaking into the rich blue carpet. "The princess' virgin cunt, mine to abuse and breed. What a real treat this is!"

I close my eyes and wish that I was anywhere else. I think about the royal gardens, the cherry blossom trees showering petals on the walkways, the roses starting to wake up from their long winter's rest.

But nothing can distract me from the feeling of something long and thick and hot prodding at my entrance, and there's absolutely nothing that could even try to take my mind off the feeling of him thrusting into my weeping cunt in one hard, fast movement.

"Aah!"

My scream echoes off the walls and I try to get away once more, but he grabs me by ny hair and uses it as a handle to keep pulling me back onto his cock with increasing force. Each thrust draws a ragged cry from me as I keep attempting to escape, but it's no use. He has me pinned, his cock stretching my tight virgin cunt, and there's no way I'm getting out of this.

He speeds up until I hear his grunting become more even, his hips finding a rhythm that I can't help but moan and squeak in time to. To my dismay, it's actually starting to feel good. My pussy flutters and clenches, growing more and more wet until I'm soaking his cock in a river of slick and moaning pathetically.

"That's it," he coos, loosening his grip in my hair to stroke a hand down my back instead, his fingers tracing the curve of my arched spine. "See, isn't it so much better when you don't resist? When you enjoy what I'm giving to you? And to think, you were so defiant too... if only your knights could see you now, princess. Bent over and taking your worst enemy's cock like a good little breeding slut."

His thumb circles the pucker of my asshole and I try to squirm away, sending my tiara clattering to the ground with the motion. He pulls on my hair once more, tugging me back onto his cock as he pounds against the opening of my womb, and I let out a loud moan as the hand that was playing with my tight ass now grabs my tit and starts playing with my nipple.

"Yeah, you like that?" He pinches and rubs the hard nub, rolling it between his fingers. The tears coming from my eyes have reduced to barely anything in comparison to the way my pussy is drooling on his cock, her purpose fulfilled at last. "I can't wait to see these tits swell up with milk for our baby. You're going to look even more amazing than you already do."

My orgasm comes without me even feeling it build, and I scream my way through it, my cunt clenching and squirting around his cock. I hear him swear behind me, then his hips slam against me for a final time and he lays himself along my back, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside me while his seed flows into my royal womb, defiling it. I feel myself shaking, a mix of euphoria and exhaustion washing over me as the adrenaline wears off, and I pass out.

When I wake, I'm in my old bedroom, not the dusty cell in the dungeon. I'm naked except for a pair of panties that are so tiny, I might as well not be wearing them at all. I rub my eyes, sitting up amongst the silk sheets I know so well, and I spot a note on the nightstand.

Good girl. I'll be sure to fuck you every day until it takes. Don't try leaving, the door is locked.

I stare out of the window, at my kingdom's ruins, and I tremble as I realise:

This is my life now.

#corruption kink #kidnapping k1nk #cnc r4p3 #cnc k!nk #royalty kink #breeding k1nk #💜 princess writes

32 notes · View notes

sexhaver · 1 year ago

Note

i have this pair of tie-dye rainbow socks i wear sometimes and whenever my husband sees me wearing them he says "looks like you secured your account, nice" and he says its a runescape thing. i never played that game and don't wanna google it to learn more since i trust him, he's an osrs dude, but i was wondering if this brings up any nostalgia for you. he always seems to get such a kick out of saying it to me. thanks ps i promise this isn't a weird foot thing.

lmfao your husband is hilarious. way back in 2006, Jagex wanted to make sure people were using two-factor authentication to secure their account, so they added a low-level dungeon named the Stronghold of Security that had some very basic combat but mostly consisted of being asked easy security questions about sharing passwords/bank PINs/etc. and the catch was that you needed 2FA on your account to even enter the dungeon, and you wanted to enter it ASAP on new accounts because you got basically free money and equipment, including the Fancy Boots:

i ran the dungeon myself back in the day even though i was way overleveled specifically for the drip

#programmer socks

167 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 10 months ago

Text

Fic Finder

July 5th

~*~

1. For Fic Finder! This is my first time making such a request so please forgive any mistake. This is such a cool thing you are doing, thank you so much! The fic I am looking for is set in canon during the indoctrination era but it diverges. Wen Chao forces WY and LZ to have sex while LZ is injured. I am pretty sure it was part of a series. In the last part after Wy comes back from Burial mounds LZ thinks the resentment is because he raped WY, so he tells the truth about the golden core. Thank you! @fangirlingforever

FOUND? Give You What You Like series by Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle)(E, 81k, WangXian, Fuck Or Die, Bad Guys Made Them Do It, Canon Divergence, angst with an eventual happy ending, First Time, Episode Related, fuck or die aftermath, Xuanwu Cave, Burial Mounds) first part is fuck or die in the Wen dungeon, 2nd one is Burial Mounds, 3rd one is WWX comes back during Sunshot

~*~

2. looking for fanfic where Jiang Fengmian dies and Jiang Cheng loses his golden core on a night hunt where Wei Wuxian was supposed to guard them but was ordered to stay away so couldnt react on time. Madam Yu forcefully has Wen Qing transfer the core over but she secretly leaves the foundation behind so that Wei Ying can recover. Everything is captured on camera and the camera ends up in Wei Ying’s hands after they kick him out with nothing but the torn up bloody clothes on his back because he was injured saving them in the first place.

FOUND? 🧡🔒Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 178k, WangXian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)

~*~

3. Hi! Need help finding this fic: LWJ and WWX were high school classmates (I think?), and LWJ had a crush on WWX. Years later, WWX moves into the apartment across from LWJ along with WQ and WY. LWJ wrongly assumes that WQ and WWX are married and have a child. WQ is dating MM and LWJ does not understand if WWX and WQ have a polyamorous relationship. Thanks for all the help!!! @fantasiacoral-blog

Hi!! I was #3 fic finder on july 5th. I found the fic, it was "Only in my eyes" by Leffy. I think whoever gave the recommendation left the wrong link, but I was able to find it since it was from the same author. Thank you very much for giving me the clue to the author!! finally i found it

NOT FOUND! Night of Sixth Magnitude Stars by Leffy (M, 22k, WangXian, Modern, Reincarnation, Fluff and Humor, Also a sprinkle of angst, LXC is a supportive onii-chan, Student/Teacher, for the first chapter only tho, Canon Divergence) A great story I've had bookmarked for years and read periodically. ☺

FOUND! Only in My Eyes by Leffy (T, 11k, WangXian, Domestic Fluff, Misunderstandings)

~*~

4. Hi fic finder! I have been searching for this fic and hope you could help me. What I remember is that Wei Wuxian instead of kiling him he was cursed or was trapped/sealed by the sect in a world where lan zhan is his husband. So he was made to believed that but then something happens and he discovered that it's not true. I'm not certain if this is completed or not.

Thank you.

FOUND? a different place, different time, but my love is right by callmeb6104 (E, 49k, wangxian, canon divergence, ABO, alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, dreams vs reality, incense burner, YLLZ WWX, canonical character death, eventual happy ending, mating cycles/in heat, MXY lives, hurt/comfort, pining)

~*~

5. So I'm technically asking for both myself and a discord friend but neither of us can find this fic:

So it's an omegaverse fic. Wangxian were participating in a mating run and the runs are also broadcast over screens like a public spectical? I think the runs also get recorded so the participants can keep a tape of the run

While everyone else participating has a nice time, Wwx initially thinks he'll not get caught, but then Lwj shows up and starts chasing him with extreme prejudice, making wwx freak out because he thinks lwj is there to punish him or something? And starts running around screaming his head off like he's being chased by a serial killer, which is broadcast for everyone to see. Their siblings are watching and mentally face-palming the entire time.

Wangxian end up in a ditch and mate, and things end happily but wwx has to be overdramatic first

FOUND! Threadfic by CerbyKerby

~*~

6. Hi, I'm looking for a long, explicit WIP time travel story where LWJ and WWX are together in the past, deal with the Waterborne Abyss, (are at very least engaged) and near the end LXC has grown concerned with WWS'S reputation and drugs him with a song of his xiao, pissing LWG off (that's all I remember). @krysaniar

~*~

7. Hello..I love what you do helping us find fics. I need your help please. I was reading a story about Lan zhan being soft with weiying. I don't know what happened, I can't find the story. The title sounds like "I will play for you" or something like that. Been trying to find it to no avail. Help pls @gegeford

~*~

8. I'm looking for a fic where lwj is being forced to mate (not sure if it's a/b/o or what) by his clan and the elders are choosing a mate for him. I think there's a scene where he's sitting in a room and the elders bring su she to him and that makes lwj super angry and throws him out. There might be something about scents? Ultimately, end game wangxian. If anyone has any ideas, or knows of something similar, it would be much appreciated! Thank you!

FOUND? Open Up Your Eager Eyes by meicairoubingfan (kiradyn) (E, 17k, WangXian, Mafia AU, Modern with Magic, dragon lans, Fertility Issues, Which Originally Began As A Method Of Natural Population Control, Gusu Lan Needs Heirs, The Twin Jades Have To Provide Them, LWJ Is Less Than Enthused About This, at first, Enter WWX And His Ripe Peach Ass, LWJ Is Suddenly Very Into The Idea Of Giving His Elders A Buncha Babies To Spoil, Dragon LWJ, incubus WWX, Size Difference, Canonical Lan arm strength, LWJ's Canonically Huge Dick, Now With Twice The Dicks, Fantastical Porn, fic Interpretation Of Dragon Lan Hemipenes, Double Penetration, boy pussy, small dick, cocklet, Mating Press, Biting, Scent Marking, Non-A/B/O Scent Kink, Subspace, Belly Bulge, Knotting, Cum Inflation, Breeding Kink, Mpreg, Bondage, Restraints, Dubious Consent, Which Becomes Canonical Wangxian CNC, Aphrodisiac Scent, Dragon Voice Powers, names have power, Dirty Talk, Tail Kink, cum plugging, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Gaping Holes, LWJ's Appreciation At Leaving WWX (And His Holes) Sloppy And Well-Used, Multiple Orgasms, Fantasy Incubus Anatomy & Biology, Suspension of Disbelief Required, LWJ's Endless Stamina, PWP, Was Supposed To Have More Plot, Derailed By Porn, so much porn, Dark LWJ, But More Like GreyJi Than BlackJi, Cockwarming, WWX’s Filthy Mind, LWJ’s Filthy Mouth)

~*~

9. Hello! Thank you for your hard work!!! I'm looking for a fic where wangxian are still disciples in the Cloud Recess and WWX founds a cilindrical object Wich turn out to be a ancient onahole and links it to himself. LWJ finds him in the backhills fucking said object and confiscates it to later use for himself. // Hi, I think that maybe I already sent an ask for this one but for I really can't remember well. The fic that I'm searching for is one where Wangxian are still in Cloud Recess (I don't remember if they're disciples or not) and WWX found that some Jin cultivators have a device similar to an onahole where you put some blood of the desired person to link it to them. I remember that he confiscates it and uses it on himself and then LWJ founds him and confiscates and uses it too. Cue shenanigans.

FOUND? 🔒 The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones (E, 77k, WangXian, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Aged-Up Character(s), WWX POV, WWX is a gremlin, Internally Screaming LWJ, No Sunshot Campaign, First Times, Accidental Sex, Masturbation, PWP, Porn with Feelings, WWX experimenting with things he shouldn’t like always, Happy Ending, Porn With Plot)

~*~

10. Hello! I'm looking for two fics that popped into my head recently.

A) LWJ manages to save WWX and he lives in Cloud Recesses wearing a face covering and using an assumed name. LQR figures it out and shocks WWX by asking if he needs help escaping if he's being held against his will. It was long-ish and had a happy ending, I think.

B) This one was a horror fic, I think. One of them brings the other back and it's happy for a little while and then the one who was resurrected gradually realizes that everyone around them is dead - basically the still-living partner had gone mad and was talking to corpses and hallucinating their responses. I remember it being not super long, well written, and disturbing, with a pretty sad ending.

Thanks in advance!

10A)

FOUND! Unbreakable Heaven, Luminous Earth by carolyncaves (M, 96k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Secret Identity, almost to the point of uncomfortable identity theft, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Suicidal Thoughts, that’s for WWX after Nightless City and is not pervasive throughout the fic, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Power Imbalance, mainly between WWX and JGY in an entirely nonsexual manner, this isn’t really a kid fic but the kids are there, as are some yunmeng sibling feelings, JYL lives, Not Everyone Dies, some COVID parallels, this is not a quarantine fic, but thematically WWX deals w things like face-covering for safety and loss of control, also assume all canon warnings, this AU is gentler than canon but isn’t a complete fix-it)

10B)

FOUND! they would call you my queen by HeavenlySkyfarer (E, 10k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Dark LWJ, Descent into Madness, Character Death, Royalty, Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Insanity, Musical Cultivation But Dark AF, Bone Magic, Unreliable Narrator, Resurrection, Ghost WWX, Biting, Blanket Permission)

~*~

11. Hi! I'm searching for this wangxian fic where they are childhood friends. It's a royalty au where jyl is crown princess and there's a competition to choose her the perfect consort as otherwise the kingdom will fall asleep. Wwx was a demon and lwj the palace librarian. They pretend to fake court eachother. I only read till chapter 2 before I had lost it.

FOUND? practicing our mistakes by isabilightwood (E, 49k, WangXian, Fairy Tale, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, royalty-adjacent AU, rom com, all the parents live, especially Mama Lan, who needs a divorce, consort competition, lwj does NOT want to participate, fake courting his best friend is the obvious solution, Qīnghéng-jūn’s A+ Parenting, matchmaking while mutual pining, wwx is a mostly human-looking demon, Monsterfucking, Submissive LWJ, Dominant WWX, Bondage, (fully consensual), Outdoor Sex, Fluff and Light Angst, wwx’s tail expresses his emotions, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX)

~*~

12. Hi! This is my first time doing this, so I hope I’m doing it right ;-;

There’s this ao3 fic I’m trying to find and the only thing I remember is that there was a discussion conference (I think it was held in lanling jin) and I think su she burst in while holding a-yuan hostage, but then a-yuan cried out to wei ying by calling him a-niang, and a ghost of wei ying appeared ‘cause I’m sure he was also dead before all that happened too.

If you could find this, it would be so great. I’ve been trying to find this for so long🥹 @stygianamulet

FOUND! To Ride A Stygian Tiger by Madyamisam for Duochanfan (M, 111k,WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel, Angst with a happy ending, BAMF WWX, Dark LWJ, Slow burn, Family Feels, Misunderstandings) chapter 4

~*~

13. Hello to fic finder I am looking for a fic where Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù is it an alternate universe bridgeton

FOUND? 🔒 yours truly, lady mulberry by qinghuaz (G, 78k, JC/NHS, WangXian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Historical, Bridgerton (TV) Fusion, A/B/O, Alpha JC, Omega NHS, First Love, Getting Back Together, Sort Of, Regency, Nobility, Slow Burn, Pining, Secret Identity, Fake/Pretend Relationship, in the past, Historical Inaccuracy, Courting Rituals, Childhood Friends to Fake Lovers to Strangers to Lovers, Implied Mpreg, Childbirth, Idiots in Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Mentions of miscarriage, Not between Sangcheng) there's a Bridgerton fusion Sancheng fic "yours truly, lady mulberry" by qinghauz? Not sure if that's what the requestor wants. There is background Wangxian though.

~*~

14. Hello my loves. I'm looking for a Wangxian fic where it's abo and wei wuxian comes back as an omega when before he was an alpha. He's somewhat intersex and I distinctly remember the author making him hate "xiao nuts"

~*~

15. hello! i'm searching for this fic.

the fic is a canon divergence fanfic, and I remember in a chapter (definitely not the first) wuxian writing letters to nie huaisang throughout all of the Wen issues and such and then killing himself. nie huaisang gets a letter from him afterwards and reads it to every group and everyone, and JC + NHS + NMJ + LWJ + LXI all go and see what wei wuxian wrote about in his letter (the torture, etc.) the fic extremely graphic and amazing and i would love to read it again. from the latest chapters i remember, wei wuxian had just gotten his soul transferred into his body again (essentially) while in the pond at the cloud recessses, after they found out mo xuanyu (who was taken in by his brother and jiang yanli i think. i cant remember i apologize my brain is blanking its 12 am) could hear wwx and such.

its been 2 years and last i recall the author had been in a car crash (if that helps or anything) and hadn't updated and i can't remember if the fic had been deleted or revived or anything. thank you 🙏 @painehell

~*~

16. Help finding fanfic I don't remember much but I remember Wei Wuxian finding a DiJiang which is like that faceless creature that has wings (the creature was named morris in shang chi) everybody was freaked out he came across it during a think the hunt. I remember he is eventually able to fly on it. Any help to find it would be great. @angiewriter

FOUND? Whatever it takes by Moonlit_dewdrops (T, 115k, JC & WWX, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, JC/WQ, JYL & WQ, WWX & WQ, WWX & JGY, WWX & JZX, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, yunmeng prides, POV JC, POV WWX; WQ & WN live, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, WWX & JC actually communicate, Yunmeng Siblings fluff, But Also Some Angst, Lots of WangXian moments, Protective JC, Protective LWJ, JGS & JXN will die for sure, NMJ Lives, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, Slow burn but not for Wangxian, Brotherhood, justice for the wen remnants, JYL & JZX Live, Wen Remnants Live, Cinnamon Roll WN, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, reference to wwx's suicide, Established Relationship, Torture) The Dijiang or Hundun shows up somewhere round about chapter 25. WWX can ride it and in a panic i think it even once napped NHS and flew off with him because it thought something was wrong.

~*~

17. there was a fic where child Wei wuxian meets meng Yao and they decide to become brothers and meng shi takes care of them and they eventually bring xue yang I believe into their family. Wei ying never gets adopted by the jiangs in this fic

FOUND? what builds a home by Stratisphyre (T, 46k, WangXian, MY & WWX, Canon Divergence, Adopted WWX, POV Multiple, warning for JGS behaving exactly as expected, child endangerment, Brother Feels, Minor Character Death) I think 17 might be what builds a home but this one has Mo Xuanyu becoming the third brother rather than Xue Yang.

FOUND? Shards of Hope by Dreaming_Days (T, 89k, JGY/LXC, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Redemption, Character Study)

#17 might be that ic where wwx xy and my are all homeless living in the outskirts of yiling. Burial mounds were formed when a powerful sect/dynasty? Was destroyed and they thought the bloodline wiped out, but the three kids a descendants of a survivor. And ghost of the last queen is raising them, and prepping them to kinda reclaim a throne?

FOUND? Debts of a Child by Hauntcats (M, 115k, WangXian, dark, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters.)

~*~

18. Hello good! I need help finding this fic and knowing if it still exists, it goes like this: Lan Wangji is kidnapped by the Wen and ends up pregnant with Wen Xu's son, who is A-Yuan (I don't really remember if it was a m-preg or an abo) . Wei Wuxian later claims the child as his own and I'm pretty sure he ends up at the party for Wen's fall. I don't really remember much Wangxian happening (but they do end up together) and I have the impression that it was one chapter or just extremely short. I don't remember much else so I would appreciate your help, please and thank you! @makolashida

FOUND? 🔒 Baijiu for Breakfast, Sanity for Lunch, Innocence for Dinner, Your Poison in my Cup by Cy_anne & NiceElsa (E, 20k, WangXian, Dark, Gods & Goddesses, God WWX, War Prize LWJ, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Not by WangXian, Adultery, Cheating, Threats of Violence, Threats of Child Abuse/Murder, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, Smut, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, A/B/O, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Endgame WangXian, WangXian Get a Happy Ending)

~*~

19. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are dance teachers? Wei wuxian has kind of a bad reputation but comes back in the picture to help the juniors to learn how to dance? Lan Wangji pines a lot and there's a pablo neruda poem in the middle, it's very funny and cute. @ilyweiwuxian

FOUND? Unstrictly Ballroom by Ariaste (T, 47k, WangXian, background SongXiao, Modern AU, Everyone’s alive, the gang defeats systemic heteronormativity, Stripper AU, competitive ballroom dance AU, really stupid misunderstandings, Yearning, Mutual Pining, the wrist grab, Erotic Handholding, [Podfic] Unstrictly Ballroom by RevolutionaryJo, Unstrictly Ballroom [Podfic] by esbielle)

~*~

20. Heyyy I’ve been looking for this fic forever but I only remember some of it… so basically it’s a modern au where wwx and lwj are friends w benefits and wwx thinks lwj is super straight and that makes him insecure.? there’s a lot of crossdressing on wwx’s part especially during frisky timesss. I think I remember there’s a scene where they’re at a board game night with wen qing..? I think it’s right before lwj tells wwx that he was gay all along lol.. N e ways thank you so much!!!:)))) @yes-mimi

FOUND? i’ll be your girl by plonk (E, 30k, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern with Magic, PWP, Idiots to Lovers)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

89 notes · View notes

jazzthatonewriterchick · 8 months ago

Text

You Should Come Thru (Hawks x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Fan Art by @almaadst ❤️❤️

Pairing: Keigo "Hawks Takami x Black!Self-Insert!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: After a month of hard work, no play, and a bad date, Hawks invites you over to his apartment for some tea to relax and finally get some time with his bestie, but as the night grows long, you suddenly lose your filter and begin telling him things that he shouldn’t know. All because of his very special tea.

Tags: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Friends to Lovers; Hurt/Comfort; Marijuana Consumption; Stripping; Mutual Oral; Mutual Masturbation; Body Worship; Voyeurism; High Sex; Dubcon (only because of the weed but there is verbal consent given); Facesitting; Riding; Mild Choking; Mirror Sex; Dom!Hawks/sub!Reader; Mild Namecalling; Wing Stroking; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Aftercare

Writer's Note: Thank you again to @curiouscutie143 for trusting me with your fantasies & ideas enough to bring them to life! -Jazz

**********

When you knock on his door that late night, Keigo already knows you are standing behind it.

He smiles at seeing your face in the peephole and opens the door without a greeting. Seeing you there still in your work dress, shoes, and pantyhose from before, he leans against the door frame and smirks at you despite your tired expression. “Well, what a surprise,” he says, sarcasm evident. “I don’t suppose you’re selling something?”

You hold your tote bag and a box from the restaurant you went to tonight in your hands. “If you think it’s a free dessert that the waitress gave me ‘cause she felt so bad for me, then yes, I do,” you glumly reply. “Can I come in?”

Keigo’s smile grows as he runs a hand through his short-cropped, blonde hair. “Shit, you kiddin’ me?” he chuckles. “Nothing’s better than pity dessert. Come right in.”

He opens the door wider, allowing you to walk inside the gorgeous, empty penthouse. Judging by Keigo’s attire of sweats, a white tee, and some slides, he was busy cleaning up for your arrival. The counters are clean, the pillows are fluffed and organized on the couch, and the TV is playing the newest episode of “Dinner In Dungeon” on Netflix.

“Take off your shoes,” he says, shutting the door behind you. “You look like you need to.”

You immediately do so, sitting down on the expensive couch in front of the TV to kick off the flats that you’ve been wearing all day at work. Keigo comes over to take the box of dessert from your dinner date, giving you a soothing smile as he does.

“Thank you again for letting me come over, Kei,” you sigh, relieved to have your feet released from the traps of your shoes. “I’m sorry it’s so late.” He pulls a sour face at you. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “My crib, your crib. Besides, I invited you over here after work to chill, remember?”

He turns to walk into his pristine, thousand-dollar kitchen with its granite counters, silver steel appliances, wine cooler, and personal mini-bar that has long since been used less since he eased up on his drinking. After Keigo got his burn scars from his fight with Dabi that almost claimed his life, he turned into a whole different person…for the better.

He cropped his hair down to snip off the burned ends from the fire, bulked up a bit more so his muscles are more defined, and he stays out of the limelight more than he used to. Less clubs, fewer groupies, and less expensive shopping sprees. The burn scars on his cheek, neck, and back are testaments of the changes he’s gone through.

But he’s still the same man you’ve been friends with for years now. You first met him three years ago when he opened his account with your bank with you as his teller. Years later, you’re still his teller and your friendship is stronger than ever. You’d never do anything to change that…even though deep down, you secretly want to.

“Well, that was to relax because you think I’m killing myself with work; not to trauma dump about my string of bad dates.” You kick your feet up on the couch, wriggling your painted toes.

Keigo pauses in the kitchen and walks back over to the doorway, leaning his hip against it. His shirt rises up a bit to show off one of his burn scars and his toned lower stomach where you see a patch of blonde hair. You look away. “Oh,” he realizes. “Tonight wasn’t the one, huh?”

You look back up at him, feeling your stress and the tension inside of you since your Uber ride here from your date melt away at the sight of his soft, almost somber expression.

“Definitely not.”

He comes over to you, holding your dessert on a plate with two forks for you both. Your waitress took it upon herself to personally give you a free chocolate mousse cake topped with whipped cream and peaches. She probably saw how unhappy you were on your Bumble date and did it as a way to make sure you didn’t stab yourself with a fork.

“Well, you know what eases stress from work and makes you feel better after bad dates?” Keigo smirks down at you, his golden eyes tinkling. “Ugh, no weed, please,” you say in disgust. “And no alcohol. I had two glasses of wine at dinner.” Hawks shoots you a look. “Don’t worry, I took an Uber here.”

“No, tea,” he finally answers, laughing lightly. “Not alcohol and of course not weed! I know you don’t smoke, silly girl…unless you do now.” He smirks at you. “Is work kicking your ass that bad?”

You roll your eyes, taking a fork to get a piece of your dessert. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” you sigh. “Ever since I took that promotion, it’s like they’re running me ragged over there. The only good thing is that this pay leaves me with extra money after the bills and rent are paid.”

You’ve had your job as a bank teller for over six years now and you take it very seriously…however, when you clock out, you don’t take calls or texts from work. Your time out of work is your own which you usually spend sleeping. Ever since you received your promotion several months ago because of your great work ethic, you haven’t spent much time doing much except working and sleeping. Which means your time with Keigo has taken the back burner.

“Well, tell me all about it while I getcha a cup,” he says, taking a forkful of the cake before walking into the kitchen. “Take the load off and relax.” You hear him putz around in the kitchen, clinging this and clanking that, while you eat your dessert. It is rich and sweet with the peaches adding the right amount of juiciness and syrupy sweetness.

“Don’t get me wrong, the job has great benefits, but…sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. I barely have time to hang out with you now.” You frown, thinking off all of those video game nights and days on the town that have vanished because of your exhaustion. When you come home from work, you immediately hit the hay like you haven’t slept in decades.

And on the weekend, a time that is meant for freedom, you’re spending it in your apartment getting ready for work again! It’s exhausting!

“Oh, I know,” Keigo calls. “That’s why I invited you over. What kind of tea ya want?” You lay back against the pillows, putting your hands on your plump stomach. “What do you got?”

“Uhhh, Merlo, orange blossom, camomile, lemon mint, lavender—“

“Lemon mint, please,” you decide. “With honey and sugar.” Keigo’s fluttery laughter exits the kitchen as he fills a kettle of water and puts it on the stove. “V, we’ve been friends for years. I know how you take your tea after making it for you for so long. Keep talking.”

You smile, glad to have someone who knows you so well. You groan, your feet flopping against the couch tiresomely. “I'm just so tired all of the time now. I don’t even look forward to my days off because all I do is sleep!”

After a few minutes of the tea kettle whistling and more putting around in the kitchen, Keigo exits the kitchen with a tray of two tea cups, organized tea bags, and the cutest little pots of sugar and lemon slices you’ve ever seen. He sits down beside you on the couch and fixes you a cup. ”I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you,” you sigh apologetically. “Even with your hero work, you still make time for me.”

His golden eyes cut over to you, serious yet soft. “Hey,” he firmly says. “Stop. Life is hard. Adulting sucks. We’re still friends regardless of work and responsibilities. Now drink.”

He hands you a cup of your tea, the scent of lemon mingled with mint filling your nostrils. You hold the warm cup against your nose and breathe in the steam before taking a much-needed sip. You’re immediately filled with warmth. “Ah,” you sigh. “That’s nice.”

Keigo leans back against the couch with you, spreading his legs as he sips his tea and visibly relaxes into the couch. You keep your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to stare dead at his thighs or his groin though it’s right in earshot. “See? Works like magic…though weed works too.” He breathes in his lavender tea and takes a sip, his eyes fluttering shut. You like seeing him relaxed like this. He looks way more handsome to you in this state.

You don’t quite know when you started thinking this way about your friend. You just know that these thoughts have yet to go away. But you won’t dare acknowledge them or tell him anything. Keigo is your bestie and that is how he’ll stay. You two have been through way too much as friends and have too much of a great relationship for you to ruin it with emotions you can’t decipher or make sense of.

He turns to you now, pulling your feet into his lap. “So tell me about this date you had tonight. Didn’t you say it was with some guy you met on Bumble?”

You nod, sipping your tea. “Yeah, we’d been talking for about two weeks and decided to meet for dinner. Really, I just agreed because he was paying and I thought it’d be a good distraction from work, but…”

You pause, not really wanting to delve into tonight’s story about your horrible date. You started dating again five months ago, going through dating apps like Bumble, Tinder, and Hinge. You figured trying to find a nice, loving relationship wouldn’t hurt, but so far, your efforts have been futile. If you haven’t found hookups, you’ve found a slew of bad dates with mansplainers, closet incels, and the scummiest losers on these apps. The most recent one takes the cake.

Keigo raises an eyebrow at you. “But?” he encourages. “Damn, was he that bad?” He laughs a bit, though he tries to stifle it as much as he can.

You sigh, picturing your date tonight. He was a beautiful man on the outside—Colgate smile, curly hair, nice body—, but on the inside, you felt like you’d need all kinds of cleaning products to clean up his nasty personality. “Well, let’s just say I won't be calling him again.”

Keigo laughs at this and you shove him in the arm. “At dinner, all he talked about was himself, he kept sneakily checking out other girls even though I saw, and then he acted like I had to give him “some” just because he paid even though he said he would! I even suggested we split!”

The pro grows increasingly interested in hearing about this, especially hearing that your date was clearly a whore. “Well, what did he say?” he asks. You stare at the TV, not really watching the show. “He just kept trying to get me to go home with him, telling me he had good beer back at his place. When I said no, he looked fed up.”

You take a sip of your tea, becoming more open with every sip. “Like, I should’ve been the one who was fed up,” you scoff. “I had to force him to ask questions about me at dinner because he kept droning on about the fact that he’s a licensed plumber and how he usually meets girls below his caliber.”

You roll your eyes, something you’ve been doing all night. You’re shocked they haven’t rolled into the back of your head or fallen out yet. Keigo makes a noise between a disproving grunt and a lamented groan. “Oh, he was that type of guy.” He takes a forkful of the cake.

You do the same, your hands brushing against one another as you reach for your fork. You ignore the slight spark you feel when you touch him. “Yeah,” you sigh. “But the thing is I don’t even think he liked that I have a job where I have a higher salary than he does. He was so weird about it.”

You take another sip of the tea and pause, realizing that you’re not as angry or as disappointed as before. You feel so relaxed and at ease, your body melting into the sofa. It’s like you’re at a spa, listening to soothing music while you get your feet rubbed. “God, I’m so relaxed. That’s a first in I don’t know how long.”

Keigo smiles, happy to hear this. “Well, that’s a good thing. Now….” He lowers his cup down and places a hand on your ankle. “Tell me more.” And so you do. You tell him about your bad date, your fears about being alone, your mother constantly getting on you about being single and giving her some grandbabies soon, etc.

With every sip of your magical tea, you become more open and honest with your friend, running off with the mouth about your life. Keigo listens intently, running his hands over your aching feet and flicking the TV channel every so often. He never once speaks or interrupts. He only listens, which is exactly what you need.

Finally, once the tea is almost gone, you sit back against the couch and hug a pillow to your chest. “I don’t think he’s ever gonna call again,” you continue, referring to your Bumble date. “And I don’t care! I’m so tired of meeting the same jerks who only wanna brag about themselves to anyone who will listen and only look at women as sex toys.”

Keigo pushes the plate of empty cake aside, pouring you more tea in the process. “Not to sound like your dad or anything, but why do you even wanna try if the dating pool is so shitty?”

You take a moment to think about it, mostly because your mind is moving so slowly. It’s like everything is moving in slow motion. Maybe going on your date after work wasn’t a good idea. “I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to try to find somebody good.” Keigo raises an eyebrow at you. “Somebody good?” he asks. “What does a “good” partner look like to you, V?”

You are stunned by the question and suddenly at a loss of words. You’re not sure why. You’ve had these types of conversations with Keigo all the time! But suddenly, you feel nervous and like the walls around you are closing in.

“Like…I dunno….someone who listens and is interested in me. Someone who’s understanding, caring, kind…someone who doesn’t always think about themselves. Someone who I can count on for anything.”

Keigo doesn’t say anything. He just fixes you with an unreadable yet almost personal expression. “Don’t get it twisted though: I love my life as it is!” you quickly add. “I’ve got a great job, a crib, a car, friends, family...I don’t want you to think I’m desperate for a man to make me feel complete.”

The blonde sips on his tea, looking confused at your sudden interest in proving to him that you’re not desperate for a man. “I didn’t say that.”

But you continue on: “It would just be nice, y’know, to have a loving relationship. Sometimes I get lonely and I think that I’ll die alone with my cat.” You play with your fingers, looking at anything but him. You don’t want to see the pity in his eyes.

“I know that it’s just me being stupid and overthinking shit, but it’d be nice to have someone I click with, like we do,” you confess. “I’d like a partner like…you.”

That’s who you want in a partner. Someone who thinks of you like they think of themselves. Someone who is there for you to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or a smile that gives you butterflies. Someone who you look forward to seeing and makes you happy when you think about them. Someone like your good friend, Keigo.

Shyly, you look at him and you can see the stun in his eyes at your confession. Realizing how this sounds, your body and face flame up. “No, no, not like that!” You protest, flustered. “I-I just mean I’d want a guy like you as a partner. Y’know, someone who makes me feel safe and secure. Beautiful, even.”

The silence that swells around you is intense and uncomfortable. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” you awkwardly chuckle. “There must be truth serum in this tea or somethin’.” You lower your cup down on the coffee table, pushing it away as if it’s poison.

“Actually, no,” Keigo says. “It’s weed.”

You pause, letting the wheels turn in your head as you process what he just said. “....What?” you finally ask. “You’re joking.” You even giggle to yourself, but he doesn’t. You can tell from the look he’s giving you. “You’re serious,” you realize.

He sips on his tea, somehow proving it to you by doing so. “Deadass,” he replies.

“Hawks, what the fuck?!” You shout, sitting up from the couch. “Why would you do that?! You know I don’t smoke!” Keigo clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Oh, relaaaax,” he draws. “I didn’t put that much in it. Just enough to relax you. If I would’ve asked, you would’ve said no.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t say no!” you protest, jumping up from the couch. “Because I don’t do drugs!”

“Well, neither do I!” he retorts, standing up with you. “I’m not a pill popper or nothing, V. It’s just weed. All it does is soothe your nerves, gives you the munchies, and makes you sleep. Speakin’ of munchies, I’ve got some fried chicken takeout left in the fridge.”

“And it also makes your anxiety skyrocket,” you angrily argue. “That explains why I’m runnin’ off with the mouth and sayin’ shit that I shouldn’t be saying!”

You place a hand on your head, feeling it thump like a heartbeat. Speaking of heartbeat, you become hyper-aware of how much it has increased in the last few minutes and now, you can’t stop focusing on it. “God,” you exhale. You close your eyes, trying to slow your breathing and your racing mind.

Keigo immediately turns around and rushes to you, laying a hand on your back. “You okay?” he asks, worried. Once he realizes what’s happening, he immediately springs into action and takes your hand. Slowly, he leads you back over to the couch and sits you down.

“Stay there,” he says and as fast as lightning, he zooms back to the kitchen to get you some water and flaps back over on his big, red, fluffy wings like an angel. “Sip this,” he says, handing you the glass. “Just relax, honey. You’re okay. It’s just the weed talkin’.”

He gently touches your knee and rubs it as you drink the ice water, taking slow sips. You try to ignore how hot you feel with him touching you, but it’s impossible to ignore. It’s been a long time since a touch has made you feel like this. His voice too—so soft and silky. “I promise I didn’t put that much in there,” he says, sounding guilty. “But maybe I shouldn’t have put any in at all. I’m sorry, V. I just didn’t like seein’ you so tired.”

His hand gently grasps your knee and you shudder like he’s touching bare skin. “I had hoped this would relax you. You walk around like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, y’know? The bad dates don’t make it better.”

He looks at you then. Really looks at you, like he sees all of you—the woman you are, the woman he sees, and the woman you want to be. All in those golden irises like sunken treasure. “You deserve to be happy,” he softly says. “And you deserve to have a partner who will make your happiness and well-being their top priority. I hope whoever it is knows how amazing of a person they’ve got.”

And in his eyes and his handsome face, you see it. He’s telling the truth. Suddenly, you feel warm and those butterflies start flapping away in the pit of your stomach. Looking at him, you think to yourself that all that you want in a partner…could it be that maybe, just maybe, who you want is…him?

Suddenly, your hand moves on its own and cups Keigo’s face. He flinches slightly, stunned by the sudden movement, but he doesn’t push you away. “V?” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you.

Wordlessly, you lean in slowly, assessing his face and giving him time to pull away. He doesn’t. It’s like you’re watching yourself from the outside, but you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to his. The kiss is tentative and short, but it absolutely sets your entire body ablaze. His lips are soft and taste faintly of lavender from the tea. His cologne engulfs your nostrils, making your hormones run wild.

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life…and it just so happens that it’s with your best friend.

You pull away, both of you silently staring at one another, shocked by how great of a kiss that was and what the fuck just happened. Keigo doesn’t freak out or even remotely act like he didn’t enjoy it. He only whispers, “V”, his voice barely above a whisper. But it’s enough to send your mind careening back down to Earth. “I’m so sorry,” you say, your voice small. “I didn’t…I-I don’t know why I—“

But Keigo stops you by turning your face towards his again and kissing you once more. This one is longer and slower. He takes his sweet time getting to know your lips and introducing you to his, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your jaw. It feels good.

So good, in fact, that you find your hands moving to his shoulders, your fingers feeling up his toned arms and biceps. It feels good. He feels so good. You can’t believe how right it feels to be kissing and touching him. Slowly, he pulls away, his breathing ragged. “We should probably talk about this.”

But you pull him back in for more kisses, these ones eager and heated. “We can talk later,” you whisper. “Just keep kissing me.” He listens to you, a soft moan leaving his lips as your tongue caresses his bottom lip. He parts his lips, granting you access, and your tongues begin to swirl amongst each other as your hands wander. You feel the, on your waist, your back, your ass, squeezing and kneading.

At some point, Keigo walks you back to the couch and sits down first, pulling you on top of him. A soft, surprised moan escapes you as his hands grip your ass, keeping you locked in his lap. You straddle him and his groin, encasing him in the heat between your luscious, jiggly thighs. You keep kissing, your hands sliding down his chest, indulging in his muscles, and wanting so much to feel his bare skin.

He pulls away with a soft pop as your lips disconnect, his gaze hooded and dazed as he stares up at you. “You feel so good here,” he sighs. “You’re so soft.” He pushes himself against you as he begins to pepper your neck with soft kisses. You moan, tossing your head back, letting him litter your throat in slow, wet smooches. Unconsciously, your body responds by grinding against him, causing something very hard to grow between your thighs.

You gasp, looking down at his bulge. You got your best friend hard! He gives you a sheepish look with an endearingly awkward smile. “Sorry. You’ve got me excited.” A fire ignites inside of you, desperate to be freed. It might be the weed, but you feel just as excited and aroused as he is. “That’s the idea,” you giggle. You lean in to kiss him, nibbling on his bottom lip. “Bedroom. Please.”

Keigo’s eyes flash with worry, your plea awakening something in him. “Are you sure you want this?” he whispers. “We can stop here if you want to—“

“No,” you exhale, shaking your head. “I don’t wanna stop. I want this.” To prove your point, you take his hand and slide it between your thighs for him to feel your second heartbeat. Your pussy is throbbing and sobbing for him, quickly becoming more insistent on being touched. Keigo’s mouth parts, a shuddering breath leaving his lips.

You watch his wings shudder and ruffle as if you’ve touched them. He’s told you before that his feathers are sensitive. You make a mental note to experiment with them later as he cups his hands under your ass. “Hang onto me then,” he orders. “Don’t look down, okay, darlin’?”

The pet name makes you feel hot all over and you nod, holding onto him tight. You lock your arms and legs around him as he stands up with you in his arms and gently flutters his wings. Though you gasp as you’re suddenly levitating off of the ground, you close your eyes and hug him close as he flies up the stairs to his bedroom. He chuckles at your reaction having not taken you flying before. He’ll have to do that later.

Once you get to his bedroom, he gently puts you down on your feet and shuts the door. You look around the spacious room, noticing the sweet smell of roses and the cleanliness of it. The balcony on the left side of the room next to the bed is cracked, bringing in a soft summer breeze. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen your bedroom before.” You turn to him, noticing him sizing you up in a way that excites you. “You never had to.”

You turn back to the king-sized bed, big enough for at least four people with a soft-looking red comforter, pillows, and… “Is that…a mirror?!” you gasp, looking up at the ceiling. There, in the square-shaped mirror hovering above the bed, you see yourself staring back.

Keigo comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Yeah, I know; I’m a freak. Is this okay with you?” His concern for your comfort turns you on even more. You’ve never seen yourself have sex before, but the idea of looking up into the mirror and watching yourself take dick and tongue while seeing Keigo’s handsome face contort in pleasure makes your pussy spill all in your panties.

You turn around in his arms and nod, too aroused to speak. He lazily smirks at you, his eyes hooded from arousal and the weed. “Then help me out of these clothes, will ya?” He groans, pulling on his pants. “I can’t take much more of this waiting game, babe.”

You can’t either. You’re dying to see what he looks like without clothes. “You get naked first,” you suggest, a purr in your voice. He fulfills your wish and works his pants off while you peel off his shirt. At one point, Keigo almost falls trying to get his pants off, making you both giggle hysterically.

Keigo gets very giggly and goofy when he’s high, something you know from many calls where he’s been high as a kite and you’re trying to sleep. Apparently, you get giggly too, unable to stop laughing. The clothes continue to come off until he’s just in his undies, exposing all kinds of savory, tanned muscle that you can’t help but touch, stroke, kiss, and lick. Keigo moans and tangles a hand in your hair as you do as you please, whispering, “Fuck, baby” and arousing “Mmm-hmms” as you do.

When you pull away, you ogle at his burn scars for a moment, trailing your fingers over the rough patches of skin. You feel Keigo tense as you do and look up into his eyes, seeing insecurity. Quickly, you soften this by cupping his face in your hands. “I like you like this,” you whisper. “Gives you character.”

Keigo cracks a smile and laughs, the sight adorable to you as your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “Your turn, darlin’.” Slowly, he begins to peel off your dress, slowly kissing you as he does. It’s one of those painfully slow, sloppy kisses with tongue that leave you weak in the knees and craving more of him.

Once your dress and bra are off, Keigo sits you down on the bed and works on getting your pantyhose down. He watches you watch him pull the nylon stockings down your thighs, exposing your milky, brown skin and luscious thighs that he can’t help but stroke and grip as he leans over to kiss you.

His lips trail down to your breasts, making you moan as his soft lips touch your hardened nipples. When he latches his mouth around one of them and gently sucks, you gasp and grasp his hair, arching your chest into his mouth. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs. “How the fuck could any man fuck up a date with you?”

He turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it the same attention he just gave the one now tingling and coated in his spit. He toys with your tits, molding and squeezing them gently in your hands, loving how soft and heavy they are. Loud moans escape you as you tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, your pussy throbbing in your panties. “Keigo,” you mewl. “Baby, touch me.”

He pulls away from your nipple to speak: I am, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Where else do you want me?” His golden eyes twinkle up at you with lust and mirth. Your fingers slide down to your clothed pussy, silently telling him just where you want him. You guide his hand there, but he stops. Instead, he keeps your hand there, staring at you. “No…show me.”

You blink at him, confused. Gently, he pushes your legs open more to expose yourself to him. Then he sits up on his knees beside you and, his eyes still locked with yours, takes down his briefs to show you his very hard, very thick, very pretty cock. You gape at it, marveling at the vein trailing from the pink, bulbous head dripping in pre-cum to the base where his heavy balls hang. “Show me how you touch yourself and I’ll show you.”

It feels like fire has crackled beneath your skin and in your veins as you do what he says. Slowly, still overcome by the weed, you pull your panties aside to reveal your glistening, wet cunt to him. “Shit,” he sighs. “You have such a pretty pussy.”

You whimper pitifully at his nasty compliment, rubbing your clit in slow circles. You feel deliciously dirty and sexy under his gaze as he watches you, his hand stroking his dick in tandem with your slow pace. You pay attention to how his hand grips the thick base and strokes upward before going down, wanting to do the same.

The more you stroke your pussy while he strokes his cock, soft moans and hums of pleasure leaving his pillowy-soft lips, the more you want to go further. Sitting here with your legs open and your fingers teasing your wet pussy while he gently pumps his cock in your face is the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced. You need more of him.

You tilt your head up and begin giving the head of his cock kitten licks and kisses, earning soft moans in response. Peering up at him under your lashes, you beg him with your eyes to give you what you want. “You want this?” he asks, pressing his cock against your cheek. You nod, parting your lips as he slides his cock over to gently rub it against your mouth.

You open your mouth wider, allowing him to slide his cock in your mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, his gorgeous eyes rolling in the back of his head as his cock settles against your tongue. He lets you take the reins, only slowly thrusting in time with the slow bops of your head and sucks. You take your time blowing him, wanting to get to know his cock. He is thick and stretches out your throat, causing you to have to breathe through your nostrils and feel an ache in your jaw.

But it feels so good. You love how he feels in your mouth. You love how he tastes. You love how warm he feels encased in your mouth and throat. You love the amount of spit that collects in your mouth and drips down your chin as you continue to blow him, using your free hand to play with his balls. “God,” he moans, his hand tangling in your hair. “You feel so good, V, what the fuck.”

He feels good too. Your pussy gets wetter, your juices slipping down to your asscrack, as you continue to rub yourself in time with your slow deep throating. You absolutely love sucking his cock. It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to begin tightening and you rub a little faster. “Kei,” you exhale around his cock. “I-I’m ‘bout to…I’m gonna—“

“No.” Keigo’s golden eyes flash at you, firm. “Stop.” You do as he says, slowing down before coming to a pause. “Sit on my face,” he bluntly says. You blink at him, stunned. “What?” you dumbly ask.

“You heard me, baby: sit. On my. Face.” His hand slides down to cup yours over your pussy. “I want you to do what I’ve dreamed of you doin’ to me for years and that’s cumming in my mouth.” A cocky smirk pulls at his lips. “Don’t worry. I can handle you. If I die, I die happy.”

You roll your eyes while he laughs, but you still think it over.

You’ve never sat on a guy’s face before. It’s the first time you’ll be doing so. What if he’s uncomfortable? What if you can’t breathe and you accidentally smother him? What if you crush his neck with your full weight? Those pesky “what ifs” continue to haunt you, but at the sight of Keigo’s lustful eyes and warm smile, they begin to dissipate.

So you agree. “Pat my thigh twice if it’s too much,” you say, earning a scoff in return. He then crawls up to the top of the bed, giving you a view of his great ass, and flops onto his back, head against the pillows. His smile widens and he motions you to come hither, his cock standing at attention for you.

Suddenly feeling shy but not wanting to back out, you slowly crawl over to him and on top of him, your thighs straddling his chest. “Uh…so how do I do this?” you awkwardly ask. He laughs, his chest vibrating beneath you. “Well, first, you’ve gotta get close to my face, baby. Don’t worry; you won’t fall. Just sit on me.”

Drawn to his smile and encouragement like a moth to a flame, you sit up on your knees and scoot closer until you’re hovering over his handsome face. His eyes peer up at you, coaxing you to come down. Slowly, you do and almost immediately, your jaw drops, and your eyes go wide at the immense pleasure you feel when his tongue hits your clit.

“Oh, God!” you cry out, grabbing onto the headboard for dear life so you don’t spray all over your best friend’s face. In this position, he can reach everything, from his tongue caressing your clit and the folds of your cunt to his hands gripping and massaging your ass. He’s able to drink right from the source now, so he does so. He slurps and drinks like a thirsty man from your pussy, falling in love with how you taste.

And you fall in love with his mouth. You can’t help but grind yourself against his nose as he slurps at your pussy, his tongue moving magically between your folds. “Fuck, Hawks, yes!” you sob, tossing your head back. “Fuck, please, keep going! Oh, don’t stop!”

From between your soft, sweet, thick thighs, you can hear Keigo mumbling about how good you taste and whimpering as he continues to slurp your pussy. You’ve never heard him whimper before. It sounds so pathetic yet so sexy coming from him, the sounds vibrating against your pussy. “Fuck me,” he pleas from underneath you. “Fuck my face, baby.”

So you do. You can’t help it. His mouth just feels too good! Your hips move on their own, grinding and rolling, causing your pussy to glide along his tongue and your clit to bump against his nose. His face becomes your surfboard and you’re trying desperately to catch that wave of pleasure that will surely cause a wipeout for you. Your moans and cries grow louder, bouncing off the bedroom walls, possibly alerting the neighbors of how good you’re getting fucked.

Finally, that knot in your core reaches its limit and you feel yourself come undone in Keigo’s mouth. “I’m cumming!” you gasp, using one hand to grip Keigo’s hair. “Fuck, baby, I’m cumming!” Greedily, Keigo takes all that you give him, his tongue moving slowly yet deliciously along your wet slit as you cum in his mouth.

He moans eagerly, taking everything you give him that floods into his mouth like the most delicious waterfall. Your moans are like music to him, making his cock strain and ache. He needs to bust at this point! When you begin to feel overstimulated, he finally stops and you roll off of him.

You flop onto your back on the mattress, panting heavily and staring up at your body in the mirror. Your brown skin glistens in sweat and your hair is a tousled mess. Keigo gently strokes your side, his pants matching yours. “That was perfect,” he sighs. Tiredly, you nod. “You okay?” He worriedly asks.

You’ve never felt better. But now you want more. So you turn to him and kiss him, tasting yourself off of his lips. “I want more,” you whisper. You don’t need to elaborate any more than that for him. “Lemme just get some stuff,” he murmurs, kissing your lips before moving to his nightstand drawer.

There, he retrieves a bottle of edible lube and a water bottle for you. As you drink the water, you peek over his shoulder, spotting a pack of pre-rolled blunts that he no doubt smokes while he’s in here. Shockingly, you put a hand on his shoulder and nod down at the blunts. “Take one out,” you say. “I wanna try somethin’.”

Keigo looks shocked since you seemed so freaked out about weed initially, but he does as you say and places the blunt and a lighter on an ashtray on the nightstand. You coax him to lean back, relishing how eager he seems as he lets you do as you want to him. You then straddle him, his hard cock pressing against your mound, and press your lips to his ear.

“I wanna smoke while I ride you,” you whisper. “I want you to blow smoke in my mouth while you watch me take your cock.”

Keigo shudders at your dirty suggestion, swearing under his breath. “Ya mean shotgunning?” He chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. You flush bashfully, shrugging. You’ve only ever seen the act in movies, but the idea of it turns you on, especially when you’re taking cock. “I like you freaky like this,” he pants, gently nibbling your bottom lip. “Go ahead then, baby. Take your time.”

So you do. You use the lube on him, stroking the cold substances up and down his shaft. He shivers at the chill until the lube warms up in your palm, your ministrations making him moan and whimper. “C’mon, mama,” he groans. “You’ll make me cum before I’m even inside you yet.”

You add some lube around your entrance despite being as wet as an ocean. But you decide that you want to feel all of him, so you want to be as slick as possible. Taking hold of his shoulder with one hand while he securely handles your hips, you take his cock into your hand and rub it against your slit. He locks eyes with you, enjoying seeing the pleasure in them. “Fuck me,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Take me, baby.”

Slowly, you press the head against your entrance and gently slide down his shaft. You take his head first, the sensations you both feel causing you to gasp in unison. Then, inch by inch, you take more of his thick cock inside of your soft, curvy body. You slowly rock your hips and bounce up and down in his lap, taking him deeper and deeper with every passing second. “Mmm, fuck, Keigo,” you whine, gripping his hips as you bounce on his dick. “You feel so fucking good!”

Keigo would tell you the same, but he’s too busy watching your pretty ass take his cock like a good girl. He loves the way your stomach jiggles; how soft your back rolls feel as he traces his fingers over them; how your tits bounce and your thighs ripple. You’re truly a specimen, especially when high.

Speaking of high, he remembers the blunt he put on the nightstand and reaches for it, never once taking his eyes off of you. He grabs the blunt and his lighter, still watching you ride him. “You’re doin’ so well for me, baby,” he groans. “You feel so fuckin’ amazing. Keep bouncin’ on me, okay?”

You nod, continuing to sink down onto his cock as you watch him light his blunt. He wraps his lips around one of the ends and puffs once, twice, three times as the other end burns red from the lighter. Keigo then tosses the lighter aside and inhales deeply. The smoke billows from his lips as he exhales, his golden eyes hooded and lazy.

“Mind if I smoke?” he jokingly asks, smiling lazily at you. You’ve never seen him look sexier. “C’mere,” he murmurs. He puts the blunt to his mouth again and inhales, holding the smoke between his cheeks.

You lean in and make a small O shape with your puckered lips. He leans in and exhales slowly, blowing the smoke in a steady stream into your mouth. The weed smoke combined with his dick inside of you is a different kind of high. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment before opening again, dazed and slightly red.

Keigo lets out a sexy chuckle as he watches your eyes glaze over. “Nice, right?” You slowly nod, smiling deliriously at him. As you slowly grind your clit against his stomach, you lean in again, wanting more. “You want another one, huh?” he asks. “Keep fucking me just like that then.”

You do as he says and brace yourself on his shoulders, letting him shotgun you again for an indirect kiss. It quickly turns into a direct, sloppy tongue kiss as he presses his mouth to yours. The scent of marijuana and his spicy cologne mingles in your nostrils, somehow making you wetter and more needy. “Put your hand on my throat,” you beg. “Please, Keigo!” A fire flashes behind Keigo’s eyes, excited by your sluttiness.

His big, red wings suddenly move around you as if to shield you from everything but him as his hand shoots out to gently grasp our throat. “Fuck, babe, you’re so hot like this. Who knew all it took to turn you into a little slut was some weed?”

He watches you between his golden slits of eyes, his lips pressed together in pleasure as he feels your slick pussy stroke him again and again, both of you softly moaning in the darkness of his bedroom. The bed creaks and bounces underneath you, your ass softly clapping against Keigo’s thighs. The lewd sounds of you fucking only makes you move a little faster and harder. “Fuck, Kei,” you whine. “I’m gonna…gonna cum soon.”

Through gritted teeth, Keigo nods, his face flushed. “Shit, I know,” he hisses. “Me too. Need to..need to fuck you harder.” Without warning, he shoots forward, wraps an arm around you, and begins to lift his lips up to fuck you back. You gasp and toss your head back, eyes closed from the ecstasy and his thick cock stroking your insides. Your clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, getting you closer to your end.

“No,” Keigo growls. “Open your eyes.” You do so and look down into his lust-blown eyes. “Look up,” he demands. “Look at yourself getting fucked, V. Look at you take that fucking dick.”

You slowly look up into the mirror, watching the woman above you. Her tits jiggle and bounce like ripe, hanging fruit; her soft, plump body ripples as the handsome man below her fucks up into her, bringing her closer to the brink of orgasm. Her face is contorted in pleasure, her brows furrowed and lips parted as moans and gasps leave her lips. She is beautiful. And she is you.

Seeing you look so hot getting fucked like that…God, it’s too much. You dig your nails into Keigo’s shoulders and press your face into his neck, wailing from the pleasure. “Oh, fuck!” you cry out. “Fuck yes, baby, I’m gonna…gonna…oh, fuck!” Your orgasm sneaks up on you like the killer in a slasher flick and tears you up from the inside. You come apart at the seams on Keigo’s cock, clenching and throbbing around him as you cum.

Keigo is right behind you, slamming his hips sloppily into yours as he tries to chase that high, even babbling as he does. “That’s it, baby, cum on my cock,” he moans. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yeah, I’m gonna cum too!”

To get him there quicker, you begin to gently stroke his wings, starting from the wing bone to the tips of his feathers, earning a soft white and a shudder in response to your ministrations.

After a few more thrusts and a ruffle of his wings as you slide your fingers against them, Keigo’s muscles clench and he holds onto you for dear life. Ah!” he gasps as he explodes deep inside of you. You weakly moan as you feel his warm cum flood your insides, making your pussy and thighs feel wet and sticky. “Take it all,” he exhales against your chest. “Take all of me, V. It’s yours.”

You whimper and shudder against him, overcome by your and his orgasms. The aftershocks begin to set in, causing you to hold onto him as the aftermath of the sex begins to fade. After it does, you feel exhausted. Silence swells between you both despite Keigo still being inside of you. With a soft moan, he carefully slides out of you and flops onto his back.

You roll off of him and lay beside him onto the cool comforter. For a while, you just lay side by side, never saying a word. Your heavy pants turn into one, mingling with the sound of cars outside. In the silence, reality sets in: you just had sex with your best friend.

Keigo clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Uh, that was…” He trails off, trying to find the right word, but not being able to.

“Yeah,” you agree. It was fucking amazing. But also fucking strange.

Slowly, the winged blonde turns toward you, one wing moving to cover you like a feathery, crimson blanket. “Do you wanna talk about what just happened?” he asks. “‘Cause I think we should.” You don’t say anything because what can you possibly say to this?

Keigo props his cheek up on his fist, looking down at you in worry. “Do you regret it?” The moonlight illuminates the fear in his eyes. He’s scared you’ll say yes.

“No,” you immediately reply and you see relief set in. “But I don’t know where we go from here. I mean, we pretty much just ruined our friendship doin’ this.” You let out an awkward chuckle though your stomach flips at the idea.

“No shit,” he chuckles. “But if I can be honest with you, I’d rather us have done that than not. I just hope you know that everything I said to you is true: you are an amazing woman, V, and you do deserve an amazing partner like…” He stops immediately from saying whatever he is going to say.

“Like who? You?” you joke. You look up at him and snort at your own joke…but he isn’t laughing. He looks conflicted like he’s trying hard to hide what he wants to say. Your heart leaps into your throat and your stomach does a gastric flip. “Hawks?” you quietly ask.

Finally, he speaks. “I’ve had these…feelings for you for some time now,” he confesses. “I don’t know when they started, but they just appeared one day. I had always adored you as my friend, but once I realized how much I wanted that to change, I started looking at you as the woman I wanted in my life and adored you even more.”

Under his soft yet intense gaze, you feel like you’re on fire. You lay there next to him, completely frozen, afraid of ruining this moment. “I don’t wanna spring this on you,” he continues, “and if you’re uncomfortable, you can always leave. But, V, all I want is for you to be happy and I’d be lying to your face if I said I didn’t want you to be happy with me.”

He looks nervous, playing with a silver ring on his ringed fingers. You take his hands into yours, finally feeling brave enough to state the obvious: “I feel the same,” you whisper.

Hope appears in his widened eyes, his lips twitching up into a smile. “So?” he coaxes. “Are you down for this?”

It now occurs to you that all of this time you’ve been searching for the one on dating apps and in the streets when all you had to do was look right beside you at the one person you would’ve never suspected. Or expected. And it could be possible that things won’t work out, but it’s also possible that Hawks could be the best thing that ever happened to you. And you want to find out. You don’t care what happens. You just wanna enjoy this with him. “Okay,” you giggle. “Yeah…let’s give this a shot.”

With a happy smile, Keigo leans in and presses a joyful kiss to your lips, cupping your face in his warm, calloused hands. You giggle, filled with giddiness. But then that happiness is stumped when your stomach rudely begins growling.

“That’s the weed talking,” he laughs, raising his brows humorously at you. “How about we end tonight with that takeout, some more cuddling, and a round two, hm?” He takes your hands and presses two kisses to your knuckles that travel down to your pussy, making it throb impatiently.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you purr before leaning up to kiss him again.

You never do make it to round two. The weed fights back after you chomp down on fried chicken and Hawks’ snack stash in his kitchen, causing you both to drift off to sleep snuggled against each other. But you don’t mind because being snuggled up underneath him in his bed, feeling the softness of his wings wrapped around you, is the most intimate thing you could ask for.

And the next morning, in the golden light of dawn pouring in through the balcony to air out the smell of weed, he makes up for it by fucking you senseless into the afternoon.

Yeah. You definitely made the right decision.

THE END.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #black coded reader #my fic shit #bnha smut #hawks x black reader #hawks x black!reader #hawks x y/n

103 notes · View notes