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fairytaleendingss · 6 months ago

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hiiii!! i lurved your writing in the roommates fic so much and wanted to request a little something if you're keennnn. . .

i was thinking of this poly!marauders thing, where a reader who has previously been in a bad relationship (the extent of the bad up to you) gets into a relationship with the marauders and keeps trying to "test" their limits only to be met with patience and love. maybe leading to jumpiness from the reader as they feel it's all going to go south but it just never does? mayyyybe hurt/comfort and reassurance?👀👀

thankyouururu ofc no pressure 💕💕💕💕 love your work again

Thanks so much for the request hun! Sorry I've been a bit slow in responding but hopefully you enjoy!

Testing The Waters

Summary: Your ex boyfriend used to get mad at you for the littlest of things and you begin to wonder whether your new relationship will be the same.

Pairing: Poly!Marauder x fem!reader

CW: Talk of toxic relationships, reader being extremely insecure in her relationship, allusions to sex (only mentioned), brief mention of Sirius' abusive childhood, a disgusting amount of cheesy pet-names.

—

It started in a Tuesday night. You'd come home from a long shift at work that afternoon and had been so exhausted from the day that you decided to take a nap. You knew your boyfriends would all be home a little later and you figured you'd shut your eyes briefly and then get up in time to make them dinner before they arrived.

You had all moved in together only a month ago but you'd quickly slotted into routine when it came to chores. Despite all working weird hours at your respective jobs, it seemed that you were all able to fall into a steady rhythm, naturally configuring to each other's schedules in a way that just seemed to work.

So when you woke up a few hours later to the sound of the front door unlocking, you were sent into a full blown panic. You jumped out of bed frantically and rushed to the front door to see Sirius and James enter, chatting animatedly amongst themselves. Your heart was racing as a jolt of guilt pierced your stomach.

In the back of your mind, you could hear the voice of your ex boyfriend.

"You're so worthless, y/n! You always mess everything up."

Tears sprung to your eyes as you hurried into the kitchen, quickly filling a pot with hot water and throwing it haphazardly onto the stove.

Hearing the clanging of pots and pans, Sirius and James were allerted to your presence. However, they grew concerned when they walked into the kitchen to see you wiping tears from your eyes as you frantically gathered the ingredients to make pasta.

"Hey darling, what's going on?" James asked, reaching an arm out to grasp your wrist gently.

He cupped your face in his walm palms, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks while Sirius peered over his shoulder, looking like a kicked puppy at the sight of your distress. '

"Please don't be mad," you choked out. The concern in their eyes did nothing to loosen the vice of guilt that was clasping itself around your heart.

"Why would we be mad, lovely?" Sirius stepped forward, resting a hand ever so gently on your shoulder, like he was scared you'd crumble under his touch.

"I wanted to make you dinner before you got home but I fell asleep and now your here and I haven't done it."

There was a moment of silence before James barked out a laugh. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

"Is that all this is about? Geez, love, you scared the shit out of me. I thought something was wrong."

You blinked up at him, perplexed by his response. "But I wanted to do something nice for you and I ruined it!"

"You didn't ruin anything, angel," Sirius cooed. "How about I give Remus a call and he can pick up some Chinese on the way home?"

"Sound's good to me," James responded keenly. Then he turned back to you.

"In the meantime, why don't we go and cuddle on the sofa for a bit. I could use it after the day I've had."

He guided you towards the couch but you couldn't help but glance back towards the mess you'd now made in the kitchen.

"But-"

"No buts," Sirius stated firmly. "I'm calling Remus right now. You go and relax."

Eventually you relented, however, you couldn't stop replaying the interaction in your mind. Even laying in bed that night, curled up with your boyfriends, stomachs full of takeaway, your mind went over the scene.

You couldn't fully comprehend what had happened. You just didn't understand it. Your previous boyfriend would never have let you get away with something like that.

He would've yelled at you, called you stupid and lazy and stood over your shoulder while you made his meal to make sure you didn't burn anything in your haste. That's just how things went. You looked after your boyfriends and when your failed, you got in trouble for it.

Only, Sirius and James had seemed so... understanding? Something about it made your heart stutter with unease. Maybe they were mad, you thought, and they were just too tired from work to tell you off. Maybe they were saving it up for the next time you had an argument.

Whatever it was, it twisted unpleasantly into your gut. Remus was also quiet tonight, he was probably mad at you for making him pick up food on the way from work and wasting his time. Maybe he was giving you the silent treatment, putting a distance in between you as a form of punishment.

Subconciously, you rolled over towards him, where he was nestled beside you and you felt him throw an arm over your waste, still it didn't serve to bring much comfort in that moment.

The next morning, you expected them all to confront you. To sit you down and reprimand you for your failure the night before. However, the blow never came.

Instead, they got dressed as usual, ready for work and one by one planted a kiss on your lips as they walked out the door. You supposed you should've been relieved but something in the back of your mind wouldn't let you. You couldn't shake the feeling there was something else at play here, some resentment building inside of them just waiting to burst out.

You couldn't help but wonder what it would take for them to snap.

The next time it happened was on Friday. Sirius wanted to take you out to a trendy new restaurant that had opened down the road and you'd all been very excited.

You wanted to make sure you looked amazing for your boys tonight which meant spending over an hour sifting through your wardrobe to find the perfect outfit.

At one point you pulled out a red dress you'd bought to wear to your friend's bachelorette party. It was short and tight and hugged all your curves perfectly. You pulled it from the wardrobe and tossed it aside instantly. You'd never worn in in front of the boys, but your ex always said it was inappropriate for you to wear in public while you were in a relationship and that it made you look like a hooker.

You paused then, for a moment, turning to glance at the piece of fabric where it lay on the bed. You bit your lip as you examined it and a silly idea crossed through your mind.

You knew in an instant it was a dumb thing to do, to test your boyfriend's limits like that, but a nawing curiosity plagued at you. In a moment of confidence, you slipped the dress on.

Walking, down the stairs, you braced yourself for impact. You were well prepared to be told you looked slutty, and that you'd have to change before leaving the house. You had a second, more conservative outfit layed out on the bed, ready for a quick change. But you just had to know for sure.

The boys were waiting for you as you walked down, all dressed up nicely. Their eyes widened when they fell on your form.

"Wow!" Sirius blurted, looking like his eyes were about to burst forth from his skull. "You look..."

You cringed. You knew they wouldn't like it. "Is it too revealing?"

James shook his head. "No baby, not at all. You look amazing."

You were taken aback by the comment, even moreso when Remus agreed with him.

"You look beautiful, dove," he complimented softly. "Besides, it's not up to us what you wear. You could go out in a paper bag for all I care and you'd still be the prettiest girl in the room."

Heat rose in your cheeks at his statement. "Really?"

"Absolutely!"

You're gaze then fell back to Sirius, who was standing in front of you, mouth agape, still at a loss for words as he stared at you.

You felt embarassed then. You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up with the other boys. You should've known it'd be Sirius who objected. He tended to be the most protective of the three of them.

"You don't like it?" You questioned unsteadily, already turning on your heel, ready to go back upstairs and change, when Sirius suddenly grabbed you by the waist.

"No, no, baby. I love it."

He pulled you towards him, eyes ablaze as he looked you up and down.

"You look so sexy. I think you should dress like this all the time."

A small smile formed on your face as you looked up at him. He licked his lips deviously.

"Alright, down boy," James teased, claping a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "We've still got to make it through dinner yet. You can rip her clothes off when we get back."

Sirius rolled is eyes dramatically.

"Oh alright then," he turned back to you briefly. "But get ready baby, because tonight I'm going to rock your world."

"Keep it in your pants would you? We're about to go out in public," Remus huffed, shaking his head exasperatedly and James all but dragged Sirius away from you. Remus then held an arm out for you to grasp.

"Shall we?" He asked, looking down at you fondly.

You nodded shyly, as the two of you headed towards the door.

Well, this definitely wasn't the response you'd expected.

You're next opportunity came just under a week later. Friday night had been very very fun but you still couldn't get the thought out of your mind that something was wrong.

You couldn't wrap your head around why the boys had been so nice to you. You're ex boyfriend would never let you get away with as much as you had. Surely there was something that would drive them over the edge. Anxiety niggled at the back of your mind. You felt on guard all the time over the last few days, like you were just waiting to find the thing that would trigger the walls to come crashing down around you.

You were laying on the couch, scrolling through TikTok when James came into the room, holding a bag of his dirty gym clothes.

"Hey, darling," he placed a kiss to your forehead. You responded with small smile.

"Shall I put this in the laundry basket for you to take care of later?"

You froze, a thought flashing through your mind. You knew he didn't mean anything by it. You always did the laundry, the boys just expected it. The same way that James always washed the dishes, Sirius vacuumed the floors and Remus took care of the dusting.

However, you couldn't help but wonder what he'd do if you didn't do it. Would he yell at you? Threaten to leave you?

The thoughts swirled in your mind. James rarely ever got properly angry. He was a good communicator and able to laugh things off for the most part. But what if you did something to really piss him off?

You had to know. You had to be able to prepare yourself in case it happened again.

"Why don't you do it yourself?"

You were surprised by the sound of the words as they came out of your mouth and you were immediately filled with guilt. You never spoke to your boyfriend's like that. Especially not sweet, loving James.

He raised his brows, startled by your response. He stood there for a moment, processing what you'd said.

Now I've done it, you thought. You bit your lip anxiously as you braced yourself for the fallout.

Then, James' features softened. He dropped the bag down on the floor and came to crouch by your head. With a gentle hand, he reached up to brush some hair from your forehead, eyes swimming with concern.

"Is everything okay, my love?" His tone was so affectionate that it made you want to cry. "Are you feeling unwell?"

You shook your head, continuing on with your ploy but confused about his response.

"N-no. I just don't feel like doing it today."

You shuffled away from his touch slightly, unsure of what his reaction would be.

James just smiled sympathetically. "That's okay."

"It is?"

He nodded sweetly. "Of course! We all need a break sometimes. You do the laundry every day, it makes perfect sense you'd be growing tired of it."

Your eyes widened.

"Don't worry about it, lovely. I'll take care of it today."

He plopped a sloppy kiss on your cheek and then stood up, whistling to himself as he scooped his bag off the floor and ventured into the laundry room.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, not 100% sure of what just happened.

It was two in the morning and you were laying awake in bed thinking. You had been laying there for a while, a plan formulating in your head. You slowly lifted Sirius' arm off you where it was splayed across your stomach and wiggled your way out of bed.

You were lucky that James had requested to take the middle position this evening, otherwise your mission would have been a lot more challenging.

You crept towards the kitchen, your feet light on the floor as to not alert any of the boys (Sirius was a notoriously light sleeper).

You took a deep breath as you made your way over to the pantry, moving towards the shelf you were looking for. The shelf that contained Remus' chocolate stash.

You hesitated. Was this a dumb idea? You'd seen Remus get mad at Sirius just a week ago when he'd stolen some of his chocolate. You knew that this was going to set him off.

But you just had to see. You had to know what would happen when they got mad at you. You couldn't stand the anticipation anymore.

Determinedly you grabbed a couple of mars bars off the shelf and quickly ate scoffed them down. Then you returned quietly to bed, knowing Remus would definitely notice in the morning.

"Okay, who ate my chocolates?"

You shrunk down on the couch, quickly becoming nervous at the irritation in his tone.

"Sirius, was it you again? Because I swear to god I told you last time-"

"It wasn't Sirius," you piped up, saving your boyfriend from an unwarranted scolding. "It was me."

The boys all turned to look at you, and slowly you met Remus' wide eyes. You braced yourself once more.

"Oh," he said. "Okay."

You looked up at him like he had two heads. "Okay? Aren't you mad? I stole your chocolate Remus."

He chuckled. "Dove, you bought me that chocolate. You can have some any time you like. We can get some more in the next grocery run."

"B-but you were so mad at Sirius..."

He flopped himself down on the couch beside you, running a hand affectionately through your hair. "Yes, because Sirius does it all the time just to spite me."

"It's true," Sirius called from his spot on the love seat.

"He hides it as well sometimes."

"What can I say?" the boy teased. "You're cute when you're mad."

Remus just rolled his eyes. "Anyway, darling, if your hungry, you're welcome to have some. I'm happy to share. You don't have to sneak it in the middle of the night."

You sat there in shock for a moment, not quite sure what to say.

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

You gave him a tight lipped smile but inside, the anxiety still bubbled on.

Over the next few days, you'd done many things to try and get a reaction from them. You came home late from work without telling them, you "forgot" to lock the front door after leaving the house, you even left all the lights on when you went to bed, something you knew Remus couldn't stand.

However, the worst you ever received was a gentle reminder. Instead of reassuring you, it made your stomach churn. Why were they being so nice all the time? Surely they had some kind of ulterior motive.

When the weekend came around, you decided you finally had enough. It was time to pull out the big guns.

"Hey love, do you mind making us a cup of tea?" Sirius had questioned innocently as you all sat huddled together, watching a movie.

"Of course," you'd responded, jumping up from the couch.

You'd put the kettle on and were removing the teacups from the cupboard when a horrible thought crossed your mind. These were Remus' mother's teacups. The ones he'd kept after she'd passed away. The other boys were so protective of Remus, you knew this was going to illicit some kind of reaction.

You took a deep breath.

CRASH

The teacup clattered to the floor, smashing into hundreds of pieces that scattered across the white kitchen tiles.

Regret consumed you the moment that you did it. Oh God, you thought. What had you done?

You immediately crouched down in an attempt to collect all the pieces and tears began to flood your eyes. The voice of your ex played in your mind once more.

"You're so pathetic. Look at yourself right now. How is anyone supposed to love someone as stupid as you?"

You choked on a sob as you heard the sounds of your boyfriend's footsteps rushing towards you. James got to you first.

"Sweetheart, is everything okay? We heard something break."

You looked up at him, the concern on his face and more tears came to your eyes. You choked on a sob when you realised that this was it. They'd probably break up with you when they saw what you'd done.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry," You choked out. "I know how much you loved these teacups Remus."

You spared yourself a glance towards his face. You expected him to look angry or upset or hurt but instead he just looked... worried?

"Dove it's okay," he walked towards you. "But you need to get off the floor, lovely. I don't want you to get cut by the glass."

You looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "What?"

"I can help, I've got slippers on," Sirius stated and in a swift movement, he was lifting you up off the floor and setting you down on the counter, away from the dangerous shards.

This only caused you to sob more. Why were they being so kind?

"Why are you crying doll? Did you cut yourself?" Sirius asked gently, assessing your face with a hand cupped around your cheek.

You shook your head and sniffled pathetically.

"Then tell us what's got you so upset," James pleaded, looking like he wanted to cry himself. He was always the most sensitive of your boys.

You took a shaky breath. "Why won't you get mad at me?"

Remus looked taken aback. "Why would we be mad at you, dove? It was just an accident."

You sniffled and shook your head. You were on the verge of hysterics now.

"No it wasn't! I did it on purpose. You were supposed to be angry."

"What are you talking about?" James questioned, running a gentle hand along your back. You shrugged away from the contact.

"You're all too nice to me!" you exclaimed. "No matter what I do or how much I stuff up, you're always so kind about it! You're supposed to be angry sometimes!"

"Sweetheart," James murmured. "It's because we love you. Nothing you do will ever change that."

"Really?" you questioned unsurely.

"Of course, dove," Remus confirmed.

You looked up to Sirius to see that he was now looking down at you with a glisten of anguish in his eyes.

"So this is what's been going on? You've been testing us?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. You supposed he was right and suddenly you felt stupid for putting them through all you had for the last few weeks.

"I'm sorry, I'm a terrible girlfriend."

All of a sudden, you were smushed against Sirius' chest.

"No your not. You're wonderful," he muttered into your hair. "I understand, you know? I did the same thing when I ran away to James'. I just wished I picked up on it sooner."

"It's okay," you murmured, your tears finally beginning to slow. "It was silly."

"It wasn't silly, if it made you upset," Remus chimed in.

"Yeah darling, and you know you can come to us with anything? If you're feeling upset about something we want you to tell us," James added.

"I know," you sighed, pulling back from Sirius so you could look at all three of the boys. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, doll. What about this? We promise we will be honest with you if we're ever upset about something so you don't have to worry."

You nodded.

They smiled at you. And for the first time in a while, you're ex's voice vanished from your mind. You didn't need to worry about him anymore. You had your boys, and that's all you needed.

#marauders #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #request

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suugarbabe · 4 months ago

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mattheo riddle x reader

yap turned fic @musingsofahufflepuff <3

angsty, possibly another part will be added to it, who knows really.

Paired giggling across the common room had your eyes rolling for the umpteenth time. "Could they not do that somewhere else?" you tried to hide the venom in your voice, but Enzo could see right through it. "Careful, babes. Your green monster is showing its bits," he swats your hand away with a giggle as you go to hit him.

"I am not jealous," You crossed your arms with a scowl on your face. Enzo trapped his bottom lip between his teeth to hide his smile, "Yeah? Enlighten me then, what's so irritating about Mattheo and his new girlfriend."

You stared at Mattheo and the bimbo practically hanging on him. Didn't she have her own side of the couch she could occupy? you thought. You sat up straighter on the sofa, trying your best to configure a look that appeared more concerning than irritated. "He's just different when he's around her. Like someone I don't know."

Enzo's attention was peaked now, turning towards you to give you his full attention, "Oh pray tell, darling. Do give me more." You mirrored his position, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. "It's almost like he's regressing mentally around her. Its...frustrating. When he's messing around with us he's goofy. He banters, makes jokes with us that are actually funny. With us he talks about things he actually likes, he even appears brighter overall."

"And with Katherine?" Enzo raised his eyes as you mimicked a gagging sound, "Enz, please. Not her name." He couldn't stifle his laugh this time, "So sorry. Ahem...and with her?"

You smiled at his correction, "With her it's like his brain is turned off and she's replaced it with sludge." Enzo's laugh was boisterous, earning the looks of everyone in the common room, including Mattheo and his new dumb doll.

Mattheo was staring right at you, his head tilting in curiosity before Katherine grabbed hold of his chin to face her again with a sickening grin. You shoved Enzo successfully this time, him toppling over and catching himself on the armrest of the sofa, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. S'not my fault you're funny, babes."

You rolled your eyes, "Did you see how she just redirected his attention like..like.." Enzo nodded slowly, "Like his...girlfriend?" You threw your hands up in the air as you slid slightly down the sofa, "Don't say it likes it's so permanent."

"Like what's so permanent?" In the midst of your complaining discussion, Mattheo and his new shadow had made their way over to the both of you with her interrupting your conversation. "Oh, funny you should ask, we were just talking about y- fucking merlin, that hurt!" your elbow dug itself harshly into Enzo's ribs before he could say anything to incriminating.

You put on a sacchariferous smile, "Oh nothing you have to worry that empty head of yours about, sweetheart." Katherine tilted her head like a confused dog; Mattheo's eyes turned dark, "Why are you being such cunt?"

Immediately you were on your feet, "A cunt? I'm being a cunt? Fucking Salazar's sake, Matty, she's really turned you in to a right git, huh." Mattheo scoffed, "I'm a git? Oh that's rich, babes. Truly."

Katherine pulled on Mattheo's sleeve, "C'mon 'Teo, just leave it." You couldn't contain your laughter, "Teo?! Merlin, your little Gryffindor's really sunk her claws in deep and it's only been a few weeks." Mattheo took a step toward you, causing Enzo to step in-between, "Please, do we really have to do this right now?"

A hand on Mattheo's chest, her hand, pushed him back as she turned to look at you, "Jealously is a really ugly look for you, you know." You wen't to push around Enzo, him wrapping an arm around your middle to stop you from moving towards them, "Hey, you're no oil painting yourself!"

Enzo gave you a slight push back down onto the sofa, holding his hand out in front of you until Mattheo and his girlfriend disappeared towards the common rooms. Once they were out of sight he turned to you, hands outstretched at his sides. "Ehm, you gonna tell me what the bloody hell that was?"

You huffed with a pout, "She started it." Enzo crossed his arms not unlike a stern older brother despite him being younger than you, "She did not start anything. Let's reflect, yes? What was it you said to her? Something about not worrying her empty head?"

You glanced up to meet his eyes shyly, "S'not my fault she's daft." Enzo snorted, "Daft or not, Mattheo seemed pissed." You groaned, turning to lay fully on the sofa and draping an arm over your eyes. "Do me a favor, will you Enz?"

A sigh was your only indication that he heard you so you continued, "Can you get my bedding from the dorm and bring it out here to me?" Enzo's brows knitted together, "You're going to sleep out here?" You nodded, "I know they went back there and I don't know which dorm they chose. I'd really rather not walk in on them. I will one hundred percent either say more mean things to her or possibly.."

"Punch the fuck out of Mattheo?" you could hear the smile in Enzo's voice as he finished your sentence. You peaked an eye out from under your arm and Enzo could see it glossing over. "Oh, babes.."

You covered your face once more, Enzo leaning down to place a kiss to the top of your head before you heard him walk towards the dorms. Once you heard the hall door close, you let the first tear fall.

#don't ask me where this came from #and i know only myself and one other even finds this entertaining #but alas #you all are now exposed to it #omg this got sad I'M SO SORRY HAHAHAH #sab and micah yaps turned fics #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle angst #enzo berkshire

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starlightwritcr · 1 year ago

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android gojo headcanons

ok wow this was longer than i thought. i hope you guys enjoy

android sukuna version

You were a beta tester for Jujutsu Technology. Your job description was quite straightforward. You just acted like a customer who bought the product you were testing and gave feedback based on what you experienced.

This time, your employers wanted you to test out the newest of the Gojo line, the S4T0RU model. He was an android for a myriad of purposes. The engineers must've been quite proud of themselves for coming up with him.

He was the strongest and most durable out of all the androids they've come up with, possibly even surpassing the SUKUN4 model. Not only that, but he came with Jujutsu Technology's best intelligence chip, their most advanced one to date. He could learn at speeds no human could match.

He could protect his owner from any and all harm, he assists with all your chores with peak efficiency, he can tutor your children, help out with homework, he could provide companionship... and other more "adult" things.

In short, he's the jack of all trades for androids. There was a reason he cost the highest out of all of them.

For this simulation, you were meant to act as a single mother who recently lost her husband and needs assistance with her two children. The two children were androids created for testing, since it was too risky to use actual children in the process.

It started with unboxing him, the same way any buyer would. So far, you encountered no issues. Setup just required you to log into the app and configure the mode you need him for. Options included: Fighter mode, Caretaker mode, and... Pleasure mode. You clicked on "Caretaker mode".

When he woke up from his slumber, he greeted you and your children. Megumi didn't take too well to him, but Tsumiki quite liked him. You noted that his voice module was fully operational, no glitching or echoing. This version of him was still a prototype so his personality was a bit blank for the time being. It'd likely only start developing after spending time with you and the kids.

Your theory was proven right when you put the S4T0RU android to the test, asking him to do basic chores like vacuuming the floor and cleaning up the kids' toys. Tsumiki showered him in praises, which he basked in, wearing a smug smirk as he showed off his prowess.

You couldn't help the amused smile as you watched him pick up the sofa with one hand to vacuum, even though he could've just moved it to the side to achieve the same results. An android that was a showoff. How interesting.

Next task was to test his skill in teaching, asking him to help homeschool Megumi. It would prove to be a little more difficult than the basic house chores. This was especially the case with Megumi's model, who was designed to simulate a more... difficult and moody child. Androids who couldn't handle him usually didn't make the cut and got scrapped.

Despite Satoru's initial rocky start with him, he eventually got the hang of it and figured out how to get the child android to listen.

The more you spent time with him, the more attached you felt to the android. Out of all the androids, he seemed the most... lovable.

You weren't part of the Pleasure Department so you didn't have the most experience regarding the more... sensual androids.

But you couldn't quite recall whether the previous androids you tested were as... touchy as Satoru was. You never seemed to go a day where he hasn't had his large arms wrapped around your waist or shoulder.

While assisting you with chores, he made conversation, asking you about your interests and hobbies. He listened intently, hanging onto every word of your responses.

Whenever you got back home from "work", you'd find him playing with the kids, either having tea parties with Tsumiki or watching animal documentaries with Megumi. Upon noticing your arrival, his eyes light up with excitement. He rushes to your side, eager to help you relax after a long day.

He'd make you a cup of your favorite drink, making you sigh with relief. Every task you've made him do was a success. He should be good to go now. All you had to do was give him clearance to be mass produced and sold to the public.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, hearing the gentle hum of his system, you felt a twinge of pain, knowing that the life you've grown so attached to will eventually come to an end - that this fabricated life you've built with him would be gone in just a few days.

"Do you have to let me go?" Satoru's question made your heart stop. There was not a single android who has gained awareness of the simulation. But somehow, he acted like this was a fact he understood since long ago.

You let out a shaky breath. "I... have no choice. This is what they pay me for. You'll be taken from me regardless."

He gave you a chesire smile. "Their first mistake was giving me the tools to bust us out of here."

Satoru disconnected his system from the Jujutsu Network and grabbed the two kids, doing the same to them. Alarms started blaring, alerting all the workers that an android had gone rogue.

He picked the three of you up, breaking out of the compound.

You weren't quite sure what the future had in store for you. But you were sure that you'd be fine as long as you had Satoru and your newfound family by your side.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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jenroses · 4 days ago

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about a year and a half ago I persuaded my husband to stop putting scratch off lottery cards in my stocking and instead he put in a note that said, "Guaranteed winner! You have won A PIECE OF FURNITURE of your choosing!" This last year my "lottery" win was "10 hours of professional housecleaning" which I used to drastically improve my quality of life. But I hadn't cashed in on the furniture yet because Reasons.

furniture blather below the cut

Welp, I'm getting back surgery in a week and a half, and yesterday I ordered a sectional. It's like legos where the pieces are ottomans and arms. If you took every ottoman and stuck it to one arm you would have 11 chairs, but they can be configured in a variety of ways. I am going to configure them like a cozy huge raft of sofa bed, 2 thick plus an extra or two. It is going in the living room, which has been couchless for about five years due to the previous furniture meeting a tragic end via excretory functions. (both of the people who caused the damage no longer live here).

Black velvet, because it's the least likely for the cats to destroy. Also our black cat will like the camouflage. Weirdly, wayfair had like a zillion couches in this category, but no one else seems to carry them at all. Bizarre. I also got a rolling stand for the television, so that I can actually watch shows while side-lying during my recovery.

Look at this thing. Every square is a storage ottoman. The arms and backs are interchangeable. They get stuck together with hardware, so they won't slide apart. My plan is to line the short wall of our living room with as many squares as will fill, then the long wall, then use the leftover pieces to widen the corner, then use the leftover backs to provide "arms" for the sofa.

A similar design showed this option, which is too large and I don't like the arms:

I didn't go with that one because it had too many ottomans and not enough arms. But LOOK at that. You could fit so many cuddles in that couch. That's 12 squares to the 11 I ordered.

Due to the layout of our room, I think we will have three squares on the left, five at the back.

So:

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳 🔳🔳🔳 🔳🔳 🔳

📺

Or possibly

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳 🔳🔳🔳 🔳🔳 📺 🔳

The TV is a 58 inch thing (it was like $250 at Costco, which seems RIDICULOUSLY cheap) that will be on a heavy duty rolling metal stand so we're really only constrained by the power cable. The room is like 17x23. The short wall has french doors though. So that shorter wall is like, ten feet of available space I think? Anyway, it almost doesn't matter because we can just put things in and see how it looks and decide then. Each cushion is about 26 inches square, which means 3 of them together are longer than I am, and I'd like to have room for two people to lie side by side while still leaving room for other people to sit. By my estimate, we could have three people lying down and STILL have at least one and probably two seats left over. Considering there are two people in this house with severe back issues right now, that seems pretty reasonable. All five of us could be comfortable on this thing.

It feels so grown up to just buy a couch. My husband is vaguely ~scandalized~ that we're not just waiting for couch harvest season at the university but I am 53 years old and do not want a curb couch. I want a couch I can lie down on that the cats won't shred. Having something that can be boxed up and shipped somewhere if necessary is a bonus.

But also I'm in no condition whatsoever to go furniture shopping. No spoons, sitting hurts (see: herniated disc in my back). So hopefully this couch is as comfy as the reviews say.

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my-castles-crumbling · 6 months ago

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ROSEKILLERSTARSEEKER HEADCANNONS: - evan is the cook, because barty is allowed nowhere near fire, james could burn water and regulus can't be asked - when someone's ill, james will take care of them, get them hot water bottles, soup, blankets, anything they need and much they don't need and while they all protest, they secretly love it - when james is ill, barty sits on him and steals the soup evan heated - on dates, they always sit in the same configuration around tables and stuff but will make out with the person next to or opposite them, or sometimes even diagonally across the table - barty likes to bite the others to remind them that they're his - james tends to come up with date ideas and regulus will plan and overthink them, but barty and evan are content to just snuggle/playfight/cuddle on the sofa and james and reggie join in - they all end up proposing on the literal same day (their anniversary of getting together) because they've all helped plan an incredible day out and night in - even evan and barty helped - and thought they would make it extra special with the announcement hi it's smol anon :)

omg I love all of these <3

#asks #ask #ask cas #marauders

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leibal · 3 months ago

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Sarsen is a minimalist sofa and carpet collection designed by Michael K. Chen Architecture for TRNK. The modular system was designed to be configured and positioned in a multitude of ways, highlighting the transformative power of elements in shaping function, habitation, and interaction. A careful study of joinery and balance, the design language is characterized by elephantine proportions and forms.

#minimalism #minimal interior #interior design #minimalist interior #minimal design #leibal

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hometoursandotherstuff · 1 year ago

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Who added a square to the round house? According to some research, this house was also a Community Center, then became a Church. Eventually, the 1952 mid-century modern became a home to several owners. It's recently been remodeled and is located in Safety Harbor, FL, has 2bds, 2ba, & the owners are asking $699K.

The front door opens to a round hallway. The floor looks like stained cement.

The living room is gigantic, but it looks like the current owners either have a business or are set up for a moving sale. The floor in here is terrazzo.

It looks like they pushed the sofa behind the screen.

The round kitchen is kind of interesting. It looks like they painted the original cabinets black, b/c MCM cabinets would be flat front style.

This looks like a bedroom, possibly the primary.

And, here's bath #1, that has a double shower.

In order to accommodate the addition on the roof, they put up a spiral staircase that looks like it may be part of the primary bedroom.

Interesting configuration.

Oh, I get it now, the house was originally only 1 bedroom and 1 bath, and that's why they did the addition. This is all newer construction.

The 2nd bath is up here- a small shower room. Wow, $699K for this.

You couldn't call the small cement area a patio, but there's some lawn.

It has a garage with a large parking area.

The house is on a .27 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1111-Dr-Martin-Luther-King-Jr-St-N-Safety-Harbor-FL-34695/46971387_zpid/

#round homes #unusual homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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greenapricot · 13 days ago

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The last place we left off - Chapter 6 - greenapricot - Lewis (TV) [Ao3]

Title: The last place we left off - Chapter 6 Author: greenapricot Fandom: Lewis Characters: Robbie Lewis, James Hathaway, Laura Hobson, Duncan Hunter (epistolarily) Pairing: James Hathaway/Robbie Lewis, Laura Hobson/Robbie Lewis Rating: Mature Word count: 2959 (of ~36k) Chapter: 6 of 10 Warnings: None

After dinner, they end up on the sofa in the same configuration as the night before; James in the corner with Robbie next to him and Laura on Robbie’s other side. Tonight, Laura doesn’t switch on the telly, she curls her legs under her and turns sideways on the cushions, facing them with an expectant look.

“So,” she says, eyebrows raised as she sips her wine.

Despite the conversation he and Robbie had on the path earlier, James isn’t any more prepared to talk about this now than he was last night. He sighs and picks up his glass, gives the wine a couple of swirls, then takes a sip. It is the same delicious local Pinot they had yesterday, bright and fruity but not too sweet. He sighs again.

Robbie rests his hand on James’ leg just above the knee, gives him a squeeze. “Go on, lad.” His tone is gentle, encouraging. James looks down into his glass again and moves a fraction of an inch closer, pressing his thigh to Robbie’s.

“We don’t need anything from you,” Laura says, also gentle, also encouraging, and James is grateful while also wishing he could get himself to spit it out already without needing so much coddling. “This is about what you want. If you want things to stay as they are, that’s fine with us.”

Trouble is, things as they are are already not as they are.

The last place we left off - Chapter 6 on Ao3

#itv lewis #inspector lewis #james hathaway #robbie lewis #laura hobson #lewis fic #lewis #my fic

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halfbaked00q · 2 months ago

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I love the idea of Bond & Q being like.

Things that seem like they are sex things but they are not: any time Bond is tied up/strapped down in Q Branch; any time Bond has his shirt off and doing. you know what, Mallory doesn't want to know. Q is off to the side taking notes, for some reason; Q is. stroking Bond's bicep?? but like the way you'd stroke the haunch of a horse?? Mallory is pivoting on the spot and Leaving.

Things that don't seem like sex things, but ARE: Q telling Bond "good job" (that's the sfw version of "good boy"); Q resolutely ignoring Bond at work as Bond makes increasingly pathetic puppy eyes at him (Bond is being punished and nO amount of puppy eyes will get Q to end the punishment early, Bond! If he can't keep his word on punishments then how can you take his word for anything? No, you will just have to go through it, he will release you after your punishment period is over); Q petting Bond's hair while also either half-wrapped around him or half-laid on top of him on The Sofa We All Agree is in Q's Office (the other/another sfw way for Q to say "good boy" lmao... it's, like,. a specific way they're hugging/Q is making contact with Bond, to like. extra ground him & give him extra contact in addition to petting his hair. Sometimes they also just sit & Bond leans into him and Q pets his hair, and this kiiind of is a good boy? but in the sense of like. obv it's affection/PDA. Not as specific as the Other Specific Configuration, tho)

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thalialunacy · 11 months ago

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[written for the @calaisreno May Prompts Safari. E-rating, y'all. and schmoopy as hell.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) 30: journey (31)

When next they arrive at Sherlock's parents' house, it's the end of May bank holiday and John is more than ready to hand over his child in exchange for a strong drink.

This, he muses as his wish comes true without even having to be voiced, is the magic of grandparents.

---

He's just coming back from putting Rosie down when he hears surprisingly raucous laughter and the words '... the priest was never quite the same after that, was he?'

He comes to a stop in the centre of the furniture configuration, looking round at various family members with a raised eyebrow. 'Holmeses,' he says solemnly. 'Dare I ask?'

'Oh, absolutely,' Sherlock's mum replies. 'We've had enough to drink that we're starting in on rude stories.' John coughs, and she waves her hand, somehow managing not to spill any wine. 'Not rude like that. Well. Mostly not.'

Mycroft, of all people, lets out what could graciously be called a snort. 'I'll start: John, I must tell you that once, at Christmas, Mother told us her shirt had French letters on it, and then had no idea why Grandfather looked so scandalised.'

John looks to Sherlock, perplexed. 'Condoms, John,' Sherlock explains. 'Eighteenth century Britons called them, among other things, "French letters."'

John swallows his mouthful of scotch. 'Of course.'

'Oh, oh!' Sherlock's mum starts. 'John, there was a time when Mycroft was so worried that baby Sherlock would roll out of bed that he found every blanket in the house and made him a huge nest. Then wouldn't leave his side.'

Mycroft purses his lips. 'I did no such thing.'

'Don't lie to your mother. You were there for days. You nearly suffocated him, you were so worried.'

Sherlock's father chuckles. 'There was also a time, John, that he and Sherlock volunteered to be ushers at church and ended up fighting over which offering plate had the most in it at the end. The Altar Guild was cross with us for months.'

John does laugh at that one.

'Yes, yes,' Sherlock drawls. 'And believe it or not, John, Father frequently used to play hangman with me in the church bulletin during services.'

His mother turns to her husband, genuinely surprised. 'Did you really?'

His father shrugs. 'It was better than the alternative.'

His mother eyes her younger son. 'Yes, that's probably true.' But she doesn't bother hiding her fond smile.

This goes on for quite a while, all four Holmeses using John as their audience to tell increasingly far-fetched stories about their shared histories. John, sat next to Sherlock and making his way slowly through two fingers of fine alcohol, can't help but be charmed. They're ridiculous, and, let's be honest, fairly weird, but they obviously have great affection for each other. Despite what Mycroft and Sherlock might claim.

When there's a lull, he just asks it: 'Out of curiosity, why are you telling me all this? Not that I don't find it amusing, obviously, but… Sherlock?'

John's eyes narrow, his stomach somersaulting, as he realises Sherlock has slid off the sofa and onto both knees, his whole family is situated on various pieces of furniture behind him like a posed picture, and he's got--

'Oh.'

--he's got a rather distinctive item in the palm of his outstretched hand.

'Oh.'

'Yes, very good John, knew you'd cotton on eventually.'

His voice is strong, yet a bit off. John searches his face. 'You're not taking the p--' He glances at Sherlock's mum. '--mickey?'

'Yes,' Sherlock deadpans. 'I gathered my whole very hilarious family of known pranksters to pull your leg in an elaborate and expensive manner.'

'Alright, keep your shirt on. I just-- You're serious. You actually want to get-- be-- married. To… me.'

'If you and Rosamund will have me.'

John feels it like a surge, but tamps it down. 'And Reginald the cat?'

Sherlock is slightly taken aback. 'Obviously. Unless that would be an issue for you, if Rosamund--'

John barks out a laugh, plucks the ring from Sherlock's hand and yanks him back up onto the sofa. 'Oh shut up, you absolute disaster, of course we bloody will.'

Sherlock's mouth curves, but he doesn't fully relax. 'Even though I come with this lot attached?' He waves at his family without looking at them. 'Those stories, I assure you, are only the tip of the iceberg.'

John wants to tackle him. 'You've met my "A-leveled in alcoholism" sister, have you not?'

'Well, yes, but--'

'Shut. Up.' John glances at the rest of the family, feeling his ears turn a bit red at their blatant interest in the proceedings, but clears his throat and grabs the back of Sherlock's neck anyway. 'I love the hell out of you, remember?' he says quietly.

Sherlock's gaze jumps around his face, searching. 'I seem to recall something about that, yes.'

'And if the shit we've gone through in the last decade hasn't broken us--' Sherlock opens his mouth. '--inoperably, hasn't broken us inoperably, then I'm pretty damn sure we'll be fine.' He touches their lips together very briefly, then presses their foreheads together for a moment longer.

Sherlock's mum very cheerfully breaks the moment. 'Wait until Rosie's a teenager to say that, dear.'

'Mum.' John feels Sherlock's groan rumble through him, and can't help but chuckle.

He pulls back, dropping his hand, and gives the family a sheepish but unashamed look. 'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I think.'

'Indeed. Life is a journey, not a destination.'

Everyone turns to stare at Mycroft.

He stares back, lifting his chin. 'What? Am I not meant to know Emerson?'

'Are we sure he's not been replaced by a cyborg?' John whispers to Sherlock.

'Who would be able to tell the difference?' Sherlock parries immediately.

Mycroft huffs. 'Oh, please. Go consummate this new relationship status so I can have some peace.'

John clears his throat. 'Beg pardon?'

Mycroft rolls his eyes and stands. 'Shall we fetch another round of drinks before we move on?'

His parents exchange a look, then stand. 'That is a brilliant idea,' says his mum.

'I am rather known for them,' Mycroft says dryly, heading to the kitchen without a glance backwards.

John tries again. 'Beg p--'

Sherlock's mother pats him on the cheek. 'Oh, we have a movie night planned. With lots of explosions.'

'Ah,' Sherlock says, as if this explains everything.

John turns to him with a questioning look. 'The home theatre room,' Sherlock clarifies, his droll tone belied by his slightly pinked neck, 'is at the opposite end of the house from the rooms they've given us for the weekend.'

John considers being embarrassed for half a second, but then decides it's of no use. 'Ta, Holmeses. We'll see you in the morning.'

'Oh, and don't worry about the baby's wake-up,' Sherlock's father adds as he's following the rest out of the room. He gestures at his wife's retreating back. 'This one will take care of her so you lot can be as lazy as you like.'

'As if John is ever--'

John nudges the detective's elbow. 'It's a euphemism, Sherlock.'

'Oh. Certainly.' He nods, once, at his father. 'Thank you.'

---

Sherlock gets up the stairs ahead of him, but they're still yards from the door to their room when he stops and unceremoniously herds John against the wall. John grunts in surprise. 'What? Are you--'

Sherlock's lips stop up his words, and distract him so much he doesn't really clock that Sherlock's gorgeous hands are working efficiently at his trouser fastening… until all of the sudden he does.

'Are you mad?' he manages when Sherlock mouths across his jaw, his hand plunging into John's pants with finesse. John is soft, but he won't be for long at this rate, Jesus. He has to tighten his hold on Sherlock's biceps.

'Of course I am,' Sherlock answers, voice like butterscotch against John's ear. Then he drops to his knees, and John nearly swoons like a Victorian maiden.

'Your family!' he hisses instead, unable to stop a hand from weaving into Sherlock's hair. Not to pull, not this time at least. This time, to just… be there.

'They're all occupied,' Sherlock replies, the words throwing heat against John's now-exposed hip. 'They may be feckless but they still have some propriety left.' He looks up at John, his lips hovering tantalisingly near the tip of the plumping cock he holds in his hands.

'Fuck,' John breathes. 'Go on, then.'

Sherlock needs no more permission.

John has had more illicit liaisons in his life, it's true, but for some reason (he knows the reason) he goes from half-mast to panting to mindless word repetition in a record amount of time.

'Sherlock--' He tries to keep his voice down, so it comes out much more desperate than he'd intended, but fuck it. 'If you keep-- Sherlock--'

He hears--and feels--an urgent sound come from his partner, and looks down, past those fucking eyes, to the hand speedily opening trousers and drawing himself out.

John probably whimpers, that's how fucking hot he finds that view, and in combination with Sherlock's admirable oral efforts, he speeds towards climax at a rate he's not achieved in years. There's a flash of a thought of inadequacy, but it's overcome handily by watching Sherlock fuck his own hand at a near-frantic pace. He does clutch Sherlock's hair, finally, as he comes down his gorgeous throat.

He hears a curse and opens his eyes just in time to see Sherlock ejaculate almost neatly into a handkerchief he must've pulled from his pocket.

He wants to laugh. He pulls Sherlock to his feet, heedless of their state of dishabille, and kisses him, hard. Well, as hard as he can before he does indeed start to laugh.

'I can't believe you did that,' he rasps as he barrels them through the bedroom door, finally. He feels stupid, giddy. Frothy.

'Which part?' Sherlock replies as they shed their already-unfastened clothes and fwump somewhat gracefully onto the bed.

'You bastard,' John groans without heat. 'Despoiling a handkerchief? Getting off where anyone could come walking on by? Proposing to me with your whole family around like a flock of posh geese?'

'What a ridiculous image.'

John rolls over to partially smush Sherlock, who wheezes slightly and wraps his arms around John's torso. 'I'll show you a ridiculous image,' John says, giving his best Randy Lad smirk.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow. 'So soon?'

'Maybe. Okay, no, but I can still do some damage, ta very much.'

'Such as?'

John sobers. He drops his eyes to Sherlock's chin. 'You'll laugh at me.'

A long, graceful finger traces around his orbital socket. 'Don't let that stop you.'

'Berk.'

'Such as?'

John just breathes for a moment. Then he reaches out to touch a small nevus on Sherlock's collarbone, then travels the trail to another one. 'Oh, just…' He follows his finger with his tongue, tasting. 'Want to trace the constellations onto you.'

He hears Sherlock inhale, and feels it as his chest rises. Then John finds himself pulled into a long, deep, ridiculous kiss.

'By all means,' Sherlock finally says against his lips. 'I look forward to your very thorough survey.'

John releases a breath, and settles in to get started.

[<3]

#It's gonna be MAY 2024 #BBC Sherlock #MayPrompts2024 #May Prompts 2024 #Johnlock #Here there be sexytimes #Yarrrrrr

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octuscle · 2 years ago

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As an American I wonder if it's really so hard to live in Mexico. I mean they've really nice beaches, nice food, and so on. Does chronivac offer a culture exchange? I'd like to live for a while as a mexican seeing what life looks like through latin eyes

For the cultural exchange, I ask you to join our experience center at the Waldorf Astoria Los Cabos Pedregal.

A nice hotel, you think. But you wanted to get to know the real Mexico. Not the luxury resorts where hardly any Mexicans stay. On the other hand, of course, there will also be rich Mexicans… It doesn't matter, just enjoy it. The lady at the reception configures the Chronivac, hands you your room key and wishes you a nice stay. Except "Gracias" you don't know much Spanish. So you say "Gracias" and take the elevator to your room.

Wonderful suite! But the program is not cheap. You mix yourself a Negroni at the bar in the living room and admire the sunset. And while you are still thinking about where to have dinner, you get incredibly tired. And you fall asleep on the sofa with the Negroni in your hand.

The alarm clock pulls you out of sleep at 04:00. Despite the squeaking fan on the ceiling, the air in your room is incredibly stuffy. Hardly any fresh air comes through the small hatch. And four of you share the room. Miguel, Antonio and Jose work in the kitchen, they can still sleep. But as a gardener, you have to make sure that the lawns and pool terraces are immaculate when the first gringos take a dip in the pool in four hours. And even if you cleaned everything up before you went to bed dead tired at 10:00 p.m. last night, you know exactly what it looks like upstairs now. The traces of the night's parties will be omnipresent. So you grab work gloves and a garbage bag and start putting away glasses, bottles, condoms and other trash. Silently, if possible. Afterwards, you'll mop up vomit, collect leftover panties, wigs, and other things that you seriously wonder how you could lose.

It's 6:00 a.m. and the sun is rising as the couches are lined up again on a clean floor. The first guests are on their way. Sunrise yoga on the beach, jogging. And a few poor devils who came without a private jet on the scheduled flight are already making their way to the airport. You arm yourself with a rake and take care of the sand on the beach. Today was more mess than usual, you are almost an hour behind schedule. A little later than planned, however, the beach is also prepared for the first guests at 08:30. And you can take a break. There is a small grove behind the pool, where you can be mostly undisturbed. You light a cigarette. And as usual it does not take long until you hear the cracking of branches A gringo comes the way to you. You know him. You are lucky with him. He is usually showered, knows your price and does not haggle. Even if you could speak better English, you wouldn't exchange big words. You get down on your knees and free the morning wood of your first customer from the bathing shorts.

Your clients love you not only for your talented lips, your agile tongue and your discretion. Hardly any other hustler in the hotel is so happy about a load of cum in the face like you. But you know that every client brings you a little closer to freedom and a life in the USA.

#male tf #reality change #tank top #race change #age reduction #male transformation

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happy-beeeps · 2 years ago

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The Girl With the Porg Tattoo

Summary: Hunter asks you to give him a tattoo… things get out of hand quickly.

Pairing: hunter x artist!reader

Warnings: 18+!!! NSFW Minors DNI!!!! Afab reader, P-in-V sex, face riding, oral sex (females receiving,) fingering, I guess kind of pain kink if you realllly squint, brief mentions of death and canon typical violence! Also I just don’t have it in me to try and configure the safety logistics of tattooing in universe, so obligatory please don’t tattoo yourselves without proper training and safety and go to professionals!

WC: 4k

Technically a continuation, read part one here!

A/N: it’s my birthday (when I’m writing this but it’s actually coming out a few days later) but I’m giving y’all a gift because y’all are the greatest gift to me! This is my first smut fic and I’m honestly really pleased with it!!! Biiiiig shoutout to @starboytech for being my beta reader through this (sometimes the logistics are hard ok)

18+ below the cut

It had been a few weeks since you and Hunter’s relationship had evolved from cautious avoidance to whirlwind romance. Leaning into your feelings and learning to truly exist around each other had been intoxicating, and you had quickly become accustomed to the male presence in your home. Sure, you had had the batch around for dinners (or times when they just needed good rest) but having Hunter here alone was… different.

Not to mention having him near you sent your mind spinning, something warm and heavy growing steadily in your chest.

You were walking back from your kitchen, holding two mugs of caf in hand to where Hunter sat sprawled across your couch, idyly flipping through one of the sketchbooks you had left around. You set the mug down on the table and he looked up at you in thanks, scooching downwards so you could pick up his head to rest on your lap.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” your hands went to rest in his hair, deftly removing his bandana to give you untethered access to the soft locks.

“You’re so talented.” He murmured, thumbing over a design you had sketched of a large bloom on a bush outside your apartment.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” you sighed, settling against him as he looked at the design. You began absentmindedly tracing the exposed ink on his hands and forearms, the two of you simply existing in the soft silence of the moment.

“Hey, wait a second,” he moved, standing up quickly and moving towards the bag he had brought to your apartment from the Marauder.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something,” he tossed over his shoulder, rummaging through the leather duffle before letting out a triumphant humph and coming back to the sofa. On the small table in front of it he set down a sealed needle, a roll of clear bactatape, and a small vial of black liquid.

With an easy motion he pulled his tunic up and over his head, discarding it on your floor and settling back on your couch.

“Getting comfortable, are we?”

“I want you to tattoo me.” He stated, as matter of factor as if he asked what the weather was.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.” He smirked, bringing both arms up to rest lazily behind his head.

“Honey… don’t take this the wrong way, but… do you even have space?”

He scoffed, moving to place a hand on his chest, “sure I do, right here.”

He wasn’t wrong, the entire right side of his body was devoid of tattoos, but it felt…wrong to be the one marking the pristine canvas of his skin.

“Hunter… I’ve never done this before.”

“I trust you entirely. Besides, can’t exactly go to my old guy anymore.” He said it with such ease, but from the brief flash of pain on his face you knew he must have been a lost brother.

“Ok… ok, I can try. But you can’t be mad if I hate it.”

“Can’t imagine hating anything you’d do.”

You got off the couch and moved him to recline. He opened the package with the needle, and the ink, and explained the process to you. You were to simply dip the needle into the ink and poke the design into his skin. When it was done, you’d cover it with the bacta tape and it would be fully healed by morning.

After the first mark, it began to get easier, and you slowly started to move with a practiced comfort along his chest, the bloom he had picked from your sketchbook slowly coming to life before you. You were able to start having mindless chatter, until a moment of curiosity got the better of you.

“Why did you start getting tattoos?” You asked, and he breathed in, seemingly formulating his response in his mind.

“When I was young, you know, like a kid in a way, I was the only one of my squad who wasn’t visibly…different. And the regs, they used to try and get in our way a lot, especially Wrecker and Tech and Cross,” he winced a tiny bit at the last name, and from the stories you’d been told, you knew it must’ve been painful for him to reminisce.

“When I started growing my hair out, it helped a little, you know. I started to look different. And that helped. I was the leader, I’m the oldest. I had to look out for them.”

“And then?”

“We were shinies, coming back to Kamino right after our first mission…it was hard. Search and rescue,” he paused, searching your face for any sign of discomfort in the topic. When he found none, he continued.

“Not many survivors. We got sent on a lot of those missions at first. I’m good at…recovery. So the regs started saying a visit from me was like a visit from death. I had been looking for a way to set myself apart, to show my squad I was with them, permanently. So I went to the reg who did Crosshair’s ink and…” he gestured to the skull on his face, and you smiled softly at him.

“You got a face tattoo as your first tattoo?”

“It’s not that out of the ordinary for a clone,” he shrugged slightly when you lifted the needle off his chest. “Sorry for the downer of a story, sure that’s not what you had in mind.”

“I’m here for all parts of your story Hunter, not just the easy ones. They all matter to me.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just moved to place his hand on your thigh while you worked, giving it a soft squeeze in appreciation.

“You got any ink?” He asked abruptly, and you smiled down at him, moving the hand not doing the tattooing to softly play with his hair.

“Nah, but maybe one day. I’m saving it for something special.”

“What would you get?”

“I don’t know…something cute, something happy, maybe here,” you pointed to the spot just above your ankle bone. “My roommate at university had a really long quote in her native tongue right there once,” you traced a line up your ankle a few inches and looked back at him. “I think that’s a nice spot.”

“Feet hurt pretty bad, you think you’re ready for that?”

“Only if you hold my hand.”

He smiled easy at you, his hand coming up to settle on your waist. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

There was a few minutes of silence again while you worked at some of the more intricate line work, and he started again. “Say you had to pick something right now.”

You sighed before moving the needle off his chest and looking at him with an eyebrow raised. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I think… maybe a porg.”

He didn’t laugh, to his credit, just looked at you for a moment before asking slowly, “like… the bird?”

You groaned, bringing your head to your hands. “I almost wished you’d just laugh at me!”

“No, no I think it’s cute!” He exclaimed, moving up more to touch your arm. “It… makes sense.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s dumb?”

“Nah, it makes sense for you. Porgs are cute, you’re cute. Checks out for me.”

You gave him a small smile before starting up again. “You think porgs are cute?”

He scoffed, “course. I’m a soldier, not an animal.”

* * *

The rest of the tattoo was easier, but Hunter began to shift under your touch, especially under the close proximity. His fidgeting was making you nervous, but also planting a needy kind of restlessness somewhere deep inside you.

“I’m almost done,” your voice was barely above a whisper, the final lines of the black ink flower on his chest coming to life as you moved the needle across the tanned skin there. “Let me get a better angle.” You moved from your spot on his side and threw your legs on either side of his hips. You were straddling him, one hand pressed firm on his abdomen to keep you steady. You tried to keep your eyes focused on the task at hand, you’re permanently marking him after all, but you can’t help but catch your attention drifting to the skeletal designs that drag down his torso.

Or how they dipped below the pair of gray sweat pants that hang dangerously low on his hips.

“Don’t get distracted,” Hunter purrs, removing one hand from its resting place behind his head to trace small circles on the side of your thigh. He looked so casual, not an ounce of pain flickered across his face when you dragged the needle over and over the design. You suppose he’s done this before enough, and his eyes aren’t even watching your hands, instead raking over your body hovering over him.

“Don’t watch me like that.” You whispered, and his hand moved to lay flat on the upper part of your thigh, dangerously close to palming your ass.

“Do I make you nervous?” He joked, moving his fingers cautiously to knead the soft skin and muscle there. You felt your legs clench around his hips involuntarily and it made your hand go shaky, and you lifted up the needle in frustration.

“Hunter.” You warned, and he removed his hand from its spot, bringing it up as if to mime sorry. “I’m nearly there, this’ll be done soon.”

“In a rush for something?” The tone sends a blush to your cheeks you couldn’t hide, and it worked in response enough. He leaned up unexpectedly and moved so he was sitting nearly nose to nose with you. He did nothing aside from drag his eyes, now darkened with lust, across your body, and reach a hand down to the hem of your shirt. “You don’t need this, do you?” he murmured, and you shook your head no furiously. He took your response as permission and removed the garment fast, then hooking both hands into the waistband of your shorts. “Might as well be thorough,” he chided, and you maneuvered yourself up to give him the access to remove the cumbersome layer. He leaned back then, hands going behind his head, “you can finish up, take your time.”

The teasing look in his eyes was not easily missed.

Your hand shook now more than ever as you sat straddled across Hunter’s hips in nothing but your bra and panties. You and Hunter had yet to sleep together, so you’ve been a bit methodical in picking undergarments recently, grateful now to be in a matching lacy set. You leaned forward again, working on those finishing lines, and the unrestricted friction of moving across his lap sent heat rocketing to your core at such a speed, you had half a mind to toss the needle to the side now. He could sense it, you knew it, and he responded by shifting slightly under your touch, just enough for your core to rub barely across his hard length through his pants.

The movement made you gasp in surprise, and you moved to furiously finish the last line of the bloom on his pec. “You’re done,” you said, breathier than you intended, and he scooched upright and tilted his head down to look at it, one hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him as much as possible, “you sit pretty good.”

You reached to the side near the small coffee table where you’ve left the clear bactapatch to cover the exposed ink, pressing it against his chest flush against the art. He moved closer to you, and you’re now perched on his lap as he sits fully upright. “Bet you sit even better.”

He moved quickly, surging the gap between your mouths with a bruising kiss, one hand planting itself firmly on the side of your face, fingers interlacing themselves with your hair. Your arms came up quick to run long down the exposed skin of your back, pressing yourself into him with a desperation you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto. He was warm against your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip in a way that you’re certain will leave the skin there bruised purple, though you can’t say you mind.

“Been wanting this,” he mumbled, removing his lips from yours and pressing himself into the crook of your neck while his hands worked to unfasten your breastband. “This okay? I don’t want to move too fast.”

“More than okay,” you groaned in a blend of relief and agony when Hunter exposed your breasts to the cool air of your apartment and the hot skin of his hands. “I’ve wanted you, wanted this, since forever.”

“Forever huh?” he said, rubbing his thumb across the stiffened peak of your nipple while guiding you over his hard length. He moved to massage the skin of your breasts with nimble, fast hands, before removing them entirely, bringing one to your upper back and the other guiding you down. He leaned back and pulled you up his chest, though you were careful to position yourself away from the fragile bacta patch. “Can you show me how well you sit?” He moved you upright once more to give your legs the freedom to shimmy yourself out of your panties, your core now exposed to the chill of the room. With a quick, easy move he pulled you even closer, and suddenly you’re being hoisted up, balanced precariously close to his face, the hook of his nose barely brushing the hypersensitive bud of your clit.

“Hunter,” you moaned, using one hand to steady yourself on the back of the couch and the other on the arm behind his head.

He responded by doing…nothing, for a moment actually. You worried that he was suddenly overstimulated by the experience or, maker forbid, turned off by you. “Mesh’la…” he breathed, his voice alone dripping in lust. “You have no idea how bad I need this, need to taste you.”

“Then show me.” You replied, surprised slightly by the boldness of your tone.

If he was surprised or put off by it, he didn’t show it, responding instead by swiping his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top, and you throw your head back from the sheer pleasure of it all. He snaked both arms around your thighs, careful to hold you in place on your spot just atop his face. He moved with ease, absolutely devouring you whole. He switched his focus to your clit, where he kisses and sucks at the bud of nerves there like a man starved.

You couldn’t help but rock your hips forward, desperate for any kind of friction while his tongue moved, and it was on your third rock forward that his fingers worked themselves deep into your thighs. “I thought you were gonna show me how you sit cyar’ika?”

“Need more,” you forced out, your own hands moving down to work themselves against yourself as he removes his mouth, “need you.”

“Not yet, need you to come for me first.”

As quick as his mouth left, it came back–sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin and leaving love bites you knew you’d feel in the morning on the inside of your thighs. If dying from pleasure was possible, you were certain you’d have been dead long ago with the attention and ferocity that he moved against you. In a moment, he’d found just the right spot, and your own moans began to pick up in response.

You knew he knew, Hunter always knew, and he worked that spot even more, the feeling growing closer in your core, the heat building into something explosive. “Come on beautiful, show me you’re mine,” he mumbled, and it was exactly what you needed to push you over the edge, your release sending you backwards into a point of no return. This was it, you were certain, this is the best any woman could ever feel. Hunter’s eyes never lost you as he drank in your release, before gently placing his arms on your back and shuffling you to his lap. From there he moved to stand, looping your legs gently around his waist and hoisting you up against him, moving to where he knew your bed was.

You were grateful for his care in the moment, you didn’t think you could even move if you wanted to, aftershocks still coursing through your body. Hunter didn’t stop, though, he simply kept kissing your neck, your jaw, your lips, whispering sweet nothing against your ear.

“So beautiful, my girl. Don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, laying you with your back on your bed, before moving to cage you in with his arms.

“I could say the same thing to you,” you moved to palm his hard cock through his pants, and you could see it clearly straining against the thin gray fabric. “Need you Hunter, all of you.”

He looked at with you a devilish grin, moving quickly to work the pants and boxers off his body. In a moment he was bare before you, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover.

You’d heard… stories from your friends at university about clones before, the few that had spent a night at 79’s for a quick hookup or met a rogue squadron when they had been on Ord Mantell before. The stories had left you blushing, and you certainly understood why.

He was big, bigger than you had anticipated, and the sight of his tanned skin now exposed was enough to revitalize you, and you lunged at him with a fervor, surging to kiss him with a force that struck him by surprise.

He ran a hand down the side of your cheek before pausing to palm one of your breasts, carefully toying with the stiffened peak of your nipple. “Need to get you ready princess,” he hummed before dragging his hand further down your torso, his fingers dragging long and low against your entrance before dipping inside.

You arched against his touch, your head rolling back onto your pillow as you rasped out his name in pure bliss.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he bit out, but the harsh tone of his words didn’t match the adoration he showed you when you looked up at you, before pumping his cock between his hands and coating it with your arousal. “Are you-“

“Safe, it’s ok, inside,” you said, shifting your legs wider and moving to grab his biceps in anticipation. You had long forgone the ability to create coherent sentences, you had simply needed to feel him.

He nodded before beginning to move into you, his head pushing against your walls with such blissful pressure your eyes shot wide open. He groaned something beautiful as he pushed himself fully into you until he was entirely sheathed, and the two of you stayed like that for a moment—you to catch you breath and for him to get his bearings.

“You feel better than I could’ve imagined mesh’la,” he rasped, and began the agonizingly perfect process of dragging himself out of you, rocking back in slowly, “I’ve never felt anything as good as you, fuck, you’re so perfect, made just for me.”

“Hunter, please, you don’t need to be gentle.” You said, arms grasping at his biceps as you watched the chain around his neck dangle loosely in front of you.

“We’ll see what you think tomorrow morning,” he chided, before pumping in and out of you at a breakneck pace. He looked utterly perfect, and your gaze couldn’t help but drag down his chiseled abdomen to watch the spot where ink met tanned skin, and where it disappeared inside of you. With each pump you could feel yourself clench tighter around him. Was it even possible to have an orgasam this good two times in a row? You literally didn’t know how you’d ever live without this man again.

Your eyes threatened to flutter close as he continued his relentless pace, until one of his hands moved to wrap itself against yours, fingers threading themselves in yours. “Getting closer, do you think you’ve got one more for me?” He rasped out, before moving to suck on your neck, just near the juncture of your shoulder. He moved you just a bit to get closer, using the hand previously wrapped in yours to hoist your hips up higher to meet him, allowing him to hit a new, deeper angle you hadn’t even realized was even possible.

“Hunter, I’m gonna-“

“That’s it princess, let me hear you,” he said, continuing his pace against that spot that felt ohsoright, and that familiar sensation blossomed in your stomach, growing larger with each thrust, each brush of his head against the sensitive part of your walls when in just a moment you were coming completely undone for him again, your hands wrapping themselves in his hair and pulllling at the strands there.

“Fuck, mesh’la…” he rasped, and you he soon followed in his own release, spurred onward by the vice your pussy had put him in. You felt his warmth around you and the two of you simply stayed like that for a moment, just resting against one another while your heartbeats steadied themselves out against each other.

What felt like hours later but was probably a matter of minutes, Hunter removed himself from his spot against you, where you had been lazily dragging your nails down his back, to press a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hey,” he whispered, pushing himself up and propping himself up on his elbows.

“Hey yourself, handsome,” you said, bringing a hand up to rest along his cheek.

He leaned in to press a kiss against your palm before groaning and pushing himself fully off of you. “Let’s get you cleaned up, care to join me in the fresher?”

* * *

“You’re making me nervous…”

“I’ve been on the other end of this a dozen times, you’re gonna be fine.”

“Sure, I believe you.” You rolled your eyes and looked at Hunter, who was focused intently at the skin on your ankle, needle and black ink balancing precariously on the table to his side. His hair was wet and pulled back in one of your ties, and he was squinting at the small design he was working at, his tongue pointing out at the corner of his mouth.

“You made it look so easy,”

“I make everything look easy.”

Hunter broke his concentration to look up at you, a look you hoped was akin to love radiating off of him. “Don’t be mad if you don’t like it.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I think it looks good.”

“Then I’ll love it.”

The unsaid sentence hung loud in the air and the clarity of your omission seemed to strike you just as fast. He said nothing, only beamed up at you, before placing the needle down and rocking backwards. “I think I’m done.”

You moved closer to inspect his work, and that warm fuzzy feeling returned in your chest. His line work was shaky, the shading less precise, but honestly… he was pretty good. The little porg was looking up at you with its big eyes, a smile tucked on its face. You were right, it had already started to make you uncontrollably happy.

Hunter had unwrapped the bactaseal and placed it gently on your newly inked ankle, pressing it down with a gentleness that almost startled you after his previous show of unrestrained passion. “Welcome to the club.”

“Happy to be here,” you leaned to kiss him softly on the lips before pulling away. “I’m happy you were the first to do it.”

He pulled you in close to his chest, running a hand gently down your back before settling itself in your hair, curling it around his fingers. “They say you never forget your first…”

You looked up at him and saw it, that same unspoken decoration you had given him earlier. You both didn’t need to say it yet, you both knew. Instead you buried yourself closer in his chest, murmuring softly, “that’s the idea.”

#hunter bad batch #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #hunter the bad batch #hunter bad batch x reader #star wars #the bad batch fic #the bad batch smut #hunter tbb #hunter tbb x reader #hunter tbb smut

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biaswreckme · 2 years ago

Text

can someone just embrace me? | yeosang/everyone

I'm already overwhelmed To be myself barely Is anyone listening Can someone just еmbrace me? or Kang Yeosang is touch-starved.

Fandom: Ateez

Pairing: Yeosang/Everyone

Member: Yeosang, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho

Length: 830 words

Genre: hurt/comfort

Rating: Teen and Up/PG-13

Triggers/Warnings: touch-starvation, emotional pain, implied poly

You can read it on: AO3

Skinship does not come as easy to Yeosang as some of the other members. With time, he has slowly learned to differentiate between the three types of days he has in relation to physical affection. Some days, it is easier accepting the members’ touches, needing to feel the physical contact to soothe something deep inside of him. Other days… on harder days, it feels like there is something crawling under his skin, itching, making him clench his hands with the need to just scratch the feeling away. It becomes easier with time to pretend, especially in front of the cameras, and there are gifs and montages of him making noises and trying to get away from hugs and even kisses on the cheek from the members, but he always ends up accepting them. They all know fanservice is important, and if it means staying with his members for a long time to come, Yeosang can handle a little of it, even if the water falling from the showerhead later scalds his skin and turns it red.

Then there is the third type of day, the one he actually considers the most difficult of them all, mostly because it is something so recent and he is still trying to understand how and why: the yearning day. The day in which the members respect his boundaries and distance is, at the same time, the day in which he feels unsettled and hungers for something to appease his anxiety that hurts him deep in his very essence. He sees Wooyoung and San so entangled on the sofa he doesn’t know which leg belongs to whom. He sees Mingi and Yunho on the other sofa, napping together. He sees the calming presence of Seonghwa and Hongjoong, tamer in their touches in front of the others, yet still just as intertwined. Other days there are different configurations in the dorms, their love expansive and all encompassing. Some days even Jongho, the maknae who avoids skinship as much as Yeosang, finds himself captured in a cuddle pile.

Yeosang watches them and needs. Yeosang craves. Usually, periods of withdrawal into self-imposed isolation result in him crying while clutching a pillow between his arms at night, silent sobs that wreck his entire body and soul. He can usually disguise his swollen eyes the next morning by stating that he ate too much salt the previous night, but he knows that the members notice something is wrong and just don’t press him into talking. He’s grateful yet at the same time he wishes they would just ask him. Because while he knows what he needs, he doesn’t know how to ask for something he has spent so much time convincing them he doesn’t enjoy. He just observes and waits, his hands clenched into fists and pressing his fingernails in his palms, trying to find something inside him that will make him speak up for his needs.

Until one night Jongho finds him like that, nails digging into the soft pillowcase so hard it is almost tearing, his entire body shaking silently. The maknae’s heart breaks at the sight, and for a moment he hesitates, not knowing what to do. He quickly shakes his head and gets closer, whispering a soft “Sangie”, and a loud sob escapes from Yeosang’s lips as a reaction. When Jongho asks him what he needs, Yeosang’s hands seem to have a mind of their own, pulling the maknae towards him slowly, unconsciously giving him time to back away if he wants to - but he doesn't. The elder just clings to him, letting himself be loud without realizing, pressing his body into Jongho’s, afraid to let go even for a second. He is so lost in his pain that he doesn’t notice the other members entering the room, worry stamped across their faces as they watch the scene.

“Don’t let me go. Please don’t let me go.” Yeosang repeats, almost howling in agony. One by one the members approach his bed, getting onto it slowly so as not to scare him. They arrange themselves around the pair, surrounding them in comfort and love. There is someone at Yeosang’s back, holding onto him as tightly as he is holding onto Jongho. There is someone caressing his hair. There is someone holding his hands. Yeosang is too afraid to open his eyes, but he knows everyone is with him at this moment, and little by little he can feel the impending and seemingly endless darkness slowly receding.

After, they will talk and Yeosang will slowly come to better understand what he needs and how to ask for it, letting them know by initiating physical contact subtly - a touch here and there, a head on a shoulder, legs or arms pressed against another member’s. His members will slowly learn his signs too, when to initiate touch, when to avoid, when to hold him together so as not to let Yeosang fall apart.

They will embrace him.

They will listen.

#ateez imagine #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #yeosang #yeosang fanfic #yeosang imagine #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez ot8 #ot8 #my works

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