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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months

Text

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

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Dividers by @saradika 🤍

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talesofesther · 5 months

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first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story #astarion ancunin

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becca-e-barnes · 9 months

Note

Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹

My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)

I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.

He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.

He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.

He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.

"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."

His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.

"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.

He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.

"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.

"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.

"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."

His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.

"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."

With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.

"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.

#asks answered <3 #becca writes spice #anon #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #needy!bucky #please no one think this is what a healthy relationship is like #but this really really does something for me #the level of nasty in me for someone who'd say stuff like that is truly endless #I'll be the ✨freakiest ✨wife for someone some day #but for now I've fallen in love with the eviee sendal Doc Martens #and I can't do that #because I know if I get them I'm going to feel way too hot #and that would be dangerous for everyone tbh

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cheriladycl01 · 26 days

Note

hey babe!

may I request AM!Seb X RB!driver!reader where she's like a female version of what he was when he drove for RB? Like, cocky, competitive and young, where she's basically him paying for his sins lmao

thanks <333

I see my reflection in your eyes - Sebastian Vettel x RedBullDriver! Reader

Plot: Cocky Young Red Bull Driver looks good when your in a team with Max Verstappen. She’s a menace on track and Sebastian feels as though he needs to put her in her place.

Warnings: SMUT. Car sex. Angst. Sexism (in the MS industry) etc. MINORS DNI 18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, my fav reader!

Credit to violetvettel for the GIF

You and Max were exceptional team-mate since you'd been promoted to Red Bull in 2021 but you'd became more of a menace on track than when you were a part of AlphaTauri.

Even though it wasn't a championship winning car, every week you were driving it like one. In your season prior to your promotion. You hadn't finished outside the points, had no DNF's a few podiums and even a race win.

Horner came to you during the summer break proposing to switch you out for Albon. Of course you immediately agreed. Max was the same age as you so you were actually already pretty close, you were always found causing mayhem around the paddock despite being in different teams right now.

Obviously once you came into RedBull the car just suited your driving style so well, and you adapted much quicker than Pierre and Alex had and on your first race in 2021 you'd set pole position. You and Max had locked out the front row and you were buzzing with energy. This could be the year you win the constructors.

However, the first race was a shame in Bahrain, Lewis had collided with you into Turn 5. Lewis ended up winning, Max in P2 and Valtteri in P3. It was supposed to be your podium ... but it didn't matter too much.

The season wasn't just a Max and Lewis battle, but you were up there as well. A real challenge for Max and you were confident.

Who wouldn't be ... first female race winner in F1 and at one point in the season you were Championship Leader?

And Sebastian always was irked by this. Because you reminded him so much of himself in his RedBull days. He was cocky, arrogant and if he was being honest with himself a bit of a prick and he could see that with you.

He didn't know if it was the more you hung out with Max or if it was just the ego getting bigger and bigger but he remembered you as a sweet little rookie... freshly out of F2 and were nervous any time you got in the car.

But now he looked at you and all he could see what the smirk... that sexy sexy smirk.

But now you were sat in a drivers conference talking about the upcoming race and problems from the last one.

The last race was Monaco and you'd podiumed with Lando and Max and it was an incredible feeling. The three of you had spent the night partying in Monte Carlo casino and the pictures were in the tabloids the next day.

The next race was Azerbaijan and towards the last few laps it was you battling it out with Sebastian. Your car wasn't at peak performance as you hadn't done well in qually. But you managed to keep it up and came through with your second win of the season thus putting you up as current championship winner. Considering all the other podiums you'd had.

The feeling of stepping out the car was incredible. The fist pump in the air, your hair caked in champagne and sweat on the podium. It was an incredible feeling.

"So comments on those last few laps, Sebastian!" an interviewer asks.

"I mean it was ridiculous i don't understand how personalities weren't awarded ..." he frowns looking over at you smiling and giggling with Lando who was, along with Max a best friend of yours on the grid.

"Please elaborate!" he asks.

"Track limits, driving dangerously ... do i need to go on!" he laughs making you turn you head to him and scoff.

"I hope you aren't talking about me" you ask looking over at him and the other drivers go silent. You are now sat back with your arms crossed and a frown on your face as you look down at him in front of you.

"Of course I'm talking about you" he grits out and you just smile at him.

"Calm down, lets not get your panties in a twist!" you mumble so only Lando and Max either side of you can and they try to hide their laughs from you.

"What was that?" he asks twisting round fully to look at you now.

"Nothing, nothing. I think just don't comment on my driving abilities when I defended from you for the last 15 laps ... pretty well" you smirk looking down at him.

He just tuts turning back round making you shake your head and sigh as the interviewer looks to you to direct his next question.

"Y/N how does it feel as a woman to have all these world champions behind you after today?" he asks and you cock your head at him in surprise.

"Re-word that..." you smile at him, and he looks just as confused as you did.

"Sorry?" he asks and everyone around looks towards you.

"All you needed to ask was who it feels to have all these world champs behind me, my gender adds nothing to the question specifically ... if you wanted to ask me about my first race win as the only woman to win an F1 race ... that different" you smile and the interviewer coughs awkwardly at the same time as you PR manager shakes her head at you to stop.

"But to answer, i had the upgrades in the car. I was determined i had a good start and the race went my way today... and I think that's all that really matters..." you smile.

After the meeting, all it took was for you to be stood outside the McLaren hospitality next to Lando and Daniel, laughing with the pair of them for Sebastian to come forward looking at you with his hands on his hips.

"You, come with me!" he exclaims grabbing your wrist making you follow him.

"What the fuck! Seb, let me go!" you say as he pulls you out of the race track paddock entrance and to where his blacked out Aston Martin was.

"Let me go!" you tug on the tight grip on your wrist.

"Just stop! What happened to the sweet girl i first met here, you are ruthless, cocky and rude now! I don't like it!" he exclaims looking over you with a frown on his face.

"I've matured Seb, I'm not the same 21 year old i was when i first came here and first met you. Stop treating me like this little girl ... I'm done being nice and friendly ... i didn't get my way that way. Just deal with it!" you say throwing your hands up in exasperation.

"Matured, yeah right? You were arguing with me in there like a spoilt little brat!" he says, his eyes were so angry right now that you actually had to take a step back.

"Seb, deal with it!" you frown, stepping away and going to turn around.

"Get in the car Y/N!" he says opening the passenger side door.

"Why should i!" you ask not facing him to give him the satisfaction that you are fully listening to him.

"Because, I want to talk ... just us two!" he says his features fully softening, your brain was melting.

It couldn't work out if he was mocking you, or if he was genuinely being sweet. You stand there, now turned back around just watching his face as he stands there holding his passenger side door open.

"Argh fine!" you cry throwing your hands up. You were part of the Ferrari Driver Development Programme when you were 21 in F2 and Sebastian was a really important part of that development and the push you needed to get into F1. He was 31 and you saw him as a friendly mentor back then.

But the way he treated you, you'd developed a crush on him and you just knew it was wrong. A 10 year age gap that you knew the media would see as an abuse of power if anything was to ever happen between the two of you.

So you started to repress those feelings. You hung out more with Charles who joined you in your rookie season starting in 2018. Then when Lando joined there was more people your age on the grid. Even though Max was 26, he acted much older thanks to the early age he had started driving at which did lead you more to Charles and Lando. But where Charles was, Seb also was.

A few season's later and you were being promoted to Red Bull.

Seb drove you all the way to a quiet and coastal part of Baku, no-one was around.

"You embarrassed me today..." he sighs looking over at you as he pulled the handbrake up so you guys were stopped.

"Oh big whoop... all the other drivers do it and they don't get shit for it!" you complain crossing your arms over you chest and leaning back in the chair to get comfortable. You could tell you were going to be here for a while and you were in the middle of city you didn't know in a pretty quiet place and you didn't want to risk your chances of getting out and getting more lost.

"You've never done that before. Why today?" he asks looking over you.

"BECAUSE!" you shout spinning round to look at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

"I never ever thought you'd comment on my driving in a bad way when it wasn't ... that was my best race to date! I went from P12, all the way up to P1. I had to fight you for the last few laps and I was getting tired. I'm current championship leader and you didn't even acknowledge me on the podium or in the cool down room. You didn't say well done or congrats ... you didn't even look at me so how was i supposed to react when the first thing i can here about my performance from my old mentor is that it was dangerous. I shouldn't have the win and i should have had a penalty for defending from you? I worked my ass of for that P1 Seb and you know it, just because your getting old and the sport is changing so the grid isn't your fucking rich boys club anymore doesn't mean you get to see on me!" you scream the whole time, your throat scratchy once you take a breath and trying to get the tears under control.

"You think I'm old huh?" he asks and your gaze snaps over to him.

"Is that the only thing you got from that whole interaction?" you say with an exhausted sigh, from constantly fighting and you were getting to the point where you were so done.

"Well, you seem annoyed that this ... old man is giving you a run for you money!" he says and you look over at him.

"I'm leaving" you say going to open the door but he stops you.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry look I just ... it's hard getting used to all ... this!" he says looking you up and down, making you cock your head to the side.

"That doesn't give you the right to treat me the way you did today. You embarrassed me too" you say softly.

"Then, let me show you I'm sorry. Because I am" he sighs pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

"W- Seb what are you doing?" you ask looking at him. You eyes widened and he couldn't help but smile. You had these walls up for the past few years, creating this sharp and unapproachable look in your eyes, almost like a viscous cat, but now your eyes were wide and doe like, the way they used to be before Red Bull.

"I've waited too many years for this moment, and I know you have too" he smiles, coming closer to you leaning over the centre of the car.

"I- no i" you try say but a blush covers your face proving to him you really didn't.

"Just shut up" he laughs before pulling you in and kissing you. He tilted your head to the side to get closer to you, and you let him. This was a moment you'd dreamt of for far too long.

You pull back, taking your seat belt off and climbing over to the drivers side to straddle across him.

"If we're doing this ... It cant be a one time thing" you say holding both sides of his cheeks.

"You've always had all the power here sweetheart. It's your move, whatever we do. But I'll be here whatever that is. I promise you! I really care for you, I -" he smiles up at you and you nod. Looking over him once more before making your decision and pulling him back in for a kiss, his hands find there way to your hips pulling you down onto him a little more making you feel everything he had to offer.

"Seb, fuck you!" you laugh as you pull back.

"That was the plan" he smirks looking up at you.

"No, I don't think you've understood how long I've liked you for but we couldn't ... we shouldn't be doing this. If people found out" you said looking at him.

"I'm about to tell you something that doesn't leave this car. 2022 will be my last year driving. If you can wait for me, once I've retired this..." he gestures between the two of you. "Can be something more. But for now, our little secret?" he smiles and you nod feverishly.

Maybe you were still on the post win high, or Seb admitting he liked you as much as you did, not with words but you could just tell from the last 20 minute conversation, but you would do anything this man told you to do right now.

"I'll wait for you, but right now i need you Seb!" you breathed looking over him and his hands find their way up to the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him.

You hands are going anywhere they can, his neck, his biceps, his shoulders, his chest under his team top.

They ventured down starting to palm him through the joggers he'd worn to the track. Groans came out of his mouth that had your mind spinning at the thought that this was actually happening.

You were with Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't even comprehend this right now.

His fingers found there way under the skirt you were wearing and into your underwear where he started to circle your clit. Your head immediately fell into his neck at the feeling trying to muffle your moans.

"Fuck Seb, please" you cry into his shoulder as you start to move your hips to get more friction.

"What sweetheart. You need to tell me what you want. Communication ... I know you aren't good at that but you gotta try for me babygirl" he says and if he wasn't making you feel like a melted puddle of water right now you would have slapped him for that comment, even though he was so right.

He enters too fingers starting at a slow place to open you up and gradually speeds up, meeting your pathetic bounces as he holds his free arm around your back.

"I need more, Seb i need you!" you say, reaching down into his loose pants to feel just how hard he'd gotten.

"Fuck baby, just like that!" he says, his hand comes down to the side of the seat to recline it a little seeing how cramped you were at the your back was close to hitting the horn. He leant fully back, taking his fingers out of you, a groan of complaint at the loss of feeling.

"Go on baby" he says, sucking his fingers off, cleaning what was there from you before reclining himself back onto the seat his arms behind his head as he waited for you.

You pulled down his joggers and pants, his dick having been straining against them the entire time.

You move yourself up, pulling your panties to the side your arms coming either side of his head on the chair as you sunk down onto him.

"Fuck" you breathed as the sting from the stretch had you biting your lip.

"You got this sweetheart, just a little more" he smiles, his arms coming down from behind his head to settle on your hips to help you lower yourself smoothly onto him.

He was on cloud nine right now, he'd always liked you and now having you here was like a treat he'd never had before but became addicted to on the first taste.

You clamped around him at the feeling which released a whiny groan from the man below you. Once you'd bottomed out, you sat there for a little, letting yourself adjust.

"Who knew, I'd win and this is my celebration" you joke looking down at him, and he just laughs back.

"I can tell you, my intention wasn't to have sex in my car with you, I just wanted to apologize. But i cant help myself when it comes to you" he groans as you start to move a little bit.

"I never thought-" you moan in between kisses with him. "I'd have this" you say as you start to move up and down a little quicker. He starts to help you moving you up and down on him with his hands but his hands were starting to shake from the sheer amount of pleasure he was experiencing.

"I don't ever want this to end" he says as he starts to run your clit, feeling himself get embarrassingly close as quickly as he was from how you were clenching around him.

"It doesn't have too!" you smile, pulling him into a kiss.

He starts to thrust up into you, his movements from his hands getting quicker as your bounces managed to keep up. Beauty of being an athlete and having insane stamina.

You both come to your highs at the same time, you fall onto him your head going into his neck and his arms wrap around you to hold you too him so you couldn't go anywhere.

He didn't want you to.

"So... am I still a rude prick?" you ask smiling at him.

"Yeah, but i guess we can say your my rude prick. I'll keep you in line don't worry" he smirks and his words made you nod and blush, before placing another light, yet sweet kiss on his lips, making him sigh happily.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #sv5 #sv5 x reader #sv5 fanfic #sv5 imagine #sv5 smut #sebastian vettel smut

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withwritersblock · 3 months

Text

Champagne Supernova

~Champagne Supernova by Oasis~

Author's note: this is inspired by the TV show My Mad Fat Diary because I was listening to this song and reminded me of the whole show. So this is loosely inspired by Rae and Finn. So this plus size reader :) Summary: Luke comforts Y/N after being nervous about being seen together.

Warnings: some triggering language regarding weight and personal image Word Count: 1,566 Luke Hughes x plus size fm!reader

She stared at her reflection contemplating if the New Jersey Devils sweater on her body was too tight. She tugged it at different places before she let out a groan. She moved towards her vanity, she sat down and pulled a headband on her head to pull her hair away from her face to get her makeup on.

Tomorrow is the stadium series for the New Jersey Devils and her long-term boyfriend Luke. They’ve been together ever since freshman year of high school. She tapped the small button beneath her vanity mirror to turn on the bright light to help her put her makeup on.

She had soft music playing in the background as she slowly began to add primer to her skin. Luke knocked on the bedroom door before peeking his head into their shared bedroom. He smiled as he saw the hints of the forty-three on the back.

“Devils stuff looks good on you,” he mumbled as he leaned down and ran his hands from her shoulder down her sides. He delicately pressed his lips to the top of her head. She smiled softly as she began dabbing her face with her beauty blender. “I’m excited to show you off to my teammates,” he muttered before he flopped down on the beanbag sitting beside the vanity.

He tilted his head back against the wall as he admired her features.

She has always been plus sized, well before they were in a relationship together. Luke has always found her the most beautiful girl in the world. They had three classes together their freshman year and Luke spent the majority of the first semester trying to convince her to go on a date with him.

In all honesty from the first time he asked her out, she was convinced he was doing it as a joke. It was hard to believe a handsome tall, athletic man like Luke would want someone like her. She never found herself pretty because of her weight. How could someone like him ever want someone like her?

But he did, and he spent months trying to prove to her how genuine he was. It took four months for her to finally say yes. He had spent every moment he could making sure she was happy and she was loved.

He’s been in love with her since the moment he saw her and six years later nothing has changed. At least he thought nothing had changed.

After being drafted for the NHL and officially playing for the team this season; Y/N has felt something shift in her confidence. She’s never wavered in her confidence level throughout their relationship. The occasional thought that he was staying with her out of convenience would come into her mind. But Luke would look at her with the same look he did the first time he said ‘I love you’ and the thought would disappear.

The more she started going to his games, she noticed the size of the other girlfriends of the players. How much more petite and bleached blonde they looked. It was hard to go up and say she was also dating one of the players. So, she never did. She would stay in the stands and watch instead of the WAGs suite.

“You’re staring,” she mutters as she begins to powder her features.

“I don’t see you enough anymore, I miss looking at ya,” he mutters as he delicately tapped his knee against her side. She smiled softly as she continued her makeup routine.

She felt her heart race as she continued to do her makeup. “I miss looking at you too,” she mumbled. He stood up slowly. He towered over her as he leaned down, she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. He took a hold of her chin, smiling softly as he leaned down and delicately kissed her.

He pulled away, only for a moment before he kissed her again. “Lukey,” she mumbled against his lips. He took a deep breath before pulling away only a few inches.

“I know,” he mumbled, “You have to get ready,” he let out before he planted another kiss on her lips before he slowly began to walk away. “I’m going to take a quick shower, my love,” he smiled towards her as he left the bedroom.

It took another thirty minutes before she was done with her makeup, she was unsatisfied with how it looked. Nothing seemed to make her look how she wanted to. Her makeup wasn’t sitting right and her hair was not looking how she wanted it to. She stood in front of the mirror as she ran her hand over her sides. The curves weren’t in the right spot, nothing seemed to make her look good or feel confident.

He knocked on the door again before he entered the room wearing the red and black Devils beanie and the bright red zip up. She forced a smile on her lips as she met his eye through the mirror. “You look beautiful,” he said as he shut the door behind him as he walked towards her. She clenched her jaw as she pursed her lips forward. He squinted his eyes, “What’s on your mind?” he asked as he delicately placed his hands on her hips. She pulled away from him, blinking rapidly.

“I don’t know if I should go,” she mumbled. His face fell as he watched her walk towards the bed.

“Why not?” he asked barely above a whisper. She pulled her lips together as she kept her gaze on the small blanket in front of her.

“Luke, there’s going to be cameras,” she let out, her voice breaking.

“So?” he pleated, “I want them to meet you! I’m always bragging about my super amazing girlfriend and they keep wanting to meet you!” he expressed, delicately reaching his hand to take a hold of her arm. She pulled her arm away from his grasp.

“And what are they going to think when they look at me?” she countered, turning her gaze to meet his eye. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

“Why do you care about what they think?” he asked, gesturing behind him. Her lips began to quiver as she tilted her head back.

“Because do you know how much better you could do than me?” she offered, her lips quivering. He shook his head while pursing his lips forward. “You’re a professional athlete, you could easily get some celebrity who’s skinny and pretty-”

“Where’s all of this coming from?” Luke asked, shaking his head. She paused as her mind was racing. “Y/N, since when did you think about stuff like that?”

“I’ve always thought about stuff like that! Every time we take a picture I think about how people will look at it and think, “What’s he doing with that ugly fat ass, he could do so much better.” Fan girls are ruthless, Luke! I don’t want them to look at me and think-”

“I don’t care about what they think!” he shouted back. She rolled her eyes while letting out a huff of air.

“I do!” she yelled back.

“The only two opinions that should matter are mine and yours!” He took a step towards her, looking deeply into her teary eyes. “I look at you and all I see is the most beautiful girl in the world!”

“You know that’s not true,” she let out while shaking her head.

“That’s my opinion! I get to decide who I think is beautiful. I get to decide who I want to love! You have no idea how I see you. You are beautiful and sexy and smart and you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Y/N. That’s the opinion that should matter, not what some fourteen year old girl says in a Tiktok comment,” he explained while scanning her features.

She smiled softly as he spoke. “I love you,” she let out quietly as her voice broke. He smiled softly as he engulfed her in a hug, she blinked harshly as she leaned her head against his chest.

They hugged for a few more seconds before she pulled away, he waited until she was ready to separate. She looked into his eyes before she wiped the small tears that fell on her cheek. Her gaze looked towards the beanie that was too big for his head and a chuckle fell from her lips.

“What?” he asked, chuckling.

“You look like the Cat in the Hat with that,” she let out as she pointed towards the hat. He rolled his eyes playfully as he wrapped his arms around her waist as he rocked her back and forth.

“The what? The what?” he asked teasingly as he swayed them back and forth. A laugh fell from their lips as he slowly pulled away from her. “You ready?” he muttered.

“Let me fix this,” she motioned towards the small smears of mascara beneath her eyes. His mouth fell open shortly before it clammered shut. “I’ll be ready in five minutes,” she mumbled before pressing her lips against his cheek.

“Okay, Darling,” he muttered with a wide smile before he plopped down on the beanbag chair. She stared towards him suspiciously. “I like watching you do your makeup,” he mumbled. She rolled her eyes as she smiled towards him before she sat back down at her vanity.

#nhl #nhl imagines #nj devils #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #Luke hughes imagines #luke hughes fanfic #new jersey devils #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #hockey #hockey x reader #hockey imagines

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alrtyhoney · 1 year

Text

The rundown: You looked like someone Miguel terribly misses– his daughter. (FIRST PART)

Content: Miguel x Daughter!Reader (wc: 1359)

“Have you thought about it already?”

The girl remains focused on her drawings, doodling away. “About what?” She mumbles a reply, without turning her gaze, still engrossed in her drawings. She knew what he was going to say anyway.

Miguel reaches forward and tenderly tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Your quinceanera, Gab.” He remarks warmly.

She only laughs in return, shaking her head. It's silly, she thinks to herself. "I'm not even near being fifteen yet!" she protests in between fits of giggles. It occurred to Gabriella that his father had an ulterior motive from the sudden pique of interest in her hobbies and likes; he wasn’t particularly chatty, so the past few weeks had pushed her to finally ask him what he was trying to do.

She didn’t understand at first. Miguel, very patiently, explained that a quinceanera was a special once-in-a-lifetime event for every girl. It was more than just a birthday celebration, it was an important milestone in her life. But she quickly discouraged the idea, not wanting to think about it so early. They had all of the time in the world, she thought, there was no reason to rush.

“I just want it to be special.” He says, “Your mother would’ve wanted that.”

“No te preocupes, papá.” She reassures her with a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll make it special.”

The clip ended, the screen slowly fading until only his reflection remained in the empty frame. All he could see now was a hollow shell of a man looking back at him; his expression blank and unflinching. Miguel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. That scene had etched itself into his mind, burning– mockingly so.

Nothing could ever fill the hole that his daughter had left in his heart - like when he first held her in his arms so many years ago; her presence still obvious on his chest where her memories had imprinted themselves, a permanent reminder of the loss of a child. He trudged through life with heavy feet and an even heavier heart.

He wonders if things could’ve been different or if he would always be incapable of keeping people in his life, always slipping from his fingers and out of his grasp.

“You’re watching it again,” Lyla appears on his shoulder, sitting there with her legs crossed.

“What about it?”

"That's the fourth time today," She says, her voice laced with a trace of worry that she was quick to try and disguise as part of her normal banter. It had become increasingly clear to her that something was amiss and although she was programmed to know anything, Lyla did not know much about Miguel.

“What do you want?”

“An anomaly is spotted in earth-829, a renaissance-like hawk wreaking havoc in a modern museum– yikes.” Lyla briefs him, “Jessica is already on standby.”

Miguel shakes his head, sighing. “Shouldn’t she be on maternity leave already?” He asks, his suit already appearing and opening a file regarding the mission. A hologram opens in front of him, filling in the details. Vulture. “Tell her to go home. I’ll handle this one.”

“I think you shouldn’t,” Lyla squeaks with a nervous smile on her face. “Think you really shouldn’t.”

Miguel taunts with an arrogant tilt of his head, matter-of-factly declaring, "And who's the one taking orders here?" His mask then slides firmly into place, and a portal opens beneath his feet as he steps through. Lyla knows too well by now that there isn't any room for negotiation.

As he stepped into the unfamiliar environment, a chorus of cries and screams greeted him from the running crowd. They pushed each other to safety, a few staying to watch spider-man in action. Miguel sighs, cracking his neck as he prepares himself to step in.

However, he slightly flinches as the said hero narrowly avoids him, crashing into the wall behind him with a loud thud. She quickly scrambled back to her feet, dusting the bits of rubble from her suit. “Hello? Mascot-man? I’m kinda in the middle of something here–”

“I’ll take it from here, kid.” If it wasn’t for the mask covering his face, his nonchalant tone would betray his expression. It was no surprise to him that someone as young as her had been bitten by a spider like so many others before her, but he knows damn well what awaits for her and that is what troubled him every time.

“And who are you exactly?” She shouts, running towards the anomaly again.

Miguel quickly binds the vulture's wings with his webs, allowing you to throw in a few punches before the bird regains its footing and takes off into flight. “I’m from another dimension.”

You audibly gasp, the eyes on your mask widening as you swing around, “I knew dimensions were real!” Completely unfocused, the anomaly narrows his eyes before charging towards you– before you could react to your senses tingling, you were sent tumbling to the ground, near the broken pile of rocks and other rubble.

Miguel loudly groans, getting a hold of the enemy. “Kid, focus!” He barks out, and you immediately snap back to what you were doing, swinging enthusiastically towards him.

“How did you do it? I mean– I tried to prove it all my life!”

“Aren’t you 12?” He scoffs at your statement, clearly not a fan of exaggeration.

“14 – and that’s not the point, mascot-man!”

The fight went on with you chatting and talking his ear off. Miguel had answered in dismissive grunts and his usual ‘it’s classified.’ remark, but he just couldn’t discourage your eagerness in any way. You had tired him out, more than the anomaly did.

Spider-society, magic watch, many more of you– you’ve basically summed up.

“You should definitely let me join,” You offered cheerfully, cocking your head and wiggling your foot. The battle had finally come to a close, thanks in part to the arrival of a couple more spider-men who lent an extra hand. You had caught up to Miguel, basically begging him to let you in. “We made a great team back there old man!”

“Old man?”

“Okay, sensitive,” You muttered under your breath. “But seriously– I could learn more from you!”

“Kid, listen–”

You had cut him off again, seemingly not taking no as an answer as you tried to persuade him again. You continued to babble, not leaving any room for him to interrupt. Miguel rubbed a hand over his face, hidden beneath the fabric of his mask, as he groaned in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time today. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to you rambling on and on– patience nipping on itself from your lack of understanding with regards to the matter at hand.

“First off, I did most of the work back there. If it weren’t for me calling for back-up, you could’ve been injured badly. This society isn’t some school club you can just sign yourself in,” He explained, already itching to return and leaving you in the dust. A liability is the last thing he needed. “You don’t have what it takes.”

You throw your head back, groaning. You take your mask off, revealing a busted lip and a frown. “Whatever, your club sounds stupid anyway.” You mumble under your breath, suddenly feeling worn out yourself. Of course what he said had stung– it had taken so much effort to learn how to control your powers over the past two months since you were bitten by that spider. It wasn’t like there was a manual or a book written for freaks that happened to have superhero powers under such circumstances. You had to learn on your own.

Turning your back on him, you had fully expected him to disappear as well– but, to your surprise, he was totally motionless; a statue in solidarity unable to shift an inch. His stillness made the atmosphere unbearably tense and although you could not bring yourself to look back at him (well, you did call his club stupid.), you sensed his gaze upon you like a heavy weight pushing down on your shoulders.

“Gabriella?”

#alrighty honey ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara atsv #miguel o'hara x daughter!reader #miguel o'hara angst

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mvltisstuff · 1 year

Text

meet me at our spot - c.f

summary: after a text from conrad asking y/n to come over, she could never say no.

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: soooo i’m like a year late to the tsitp game… but i just finished it and i cried like a baby omfg and conrad’s #1 protector!!

conrad (10:45 PM)

come over, i’m on the dock

the second the notification popped up on her screen, she was out of bed. she was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, laying in bed but not being able to sleep. she’d been the one to paint a smile on conrad’s face this summer, and susannah knew that. she was happy to have y/n over whenever she could, noticing oldest son’s face light up when she walked in.

y/n was conrad’s soldier. she fought battles for him when he felt like he was too weak to do it himself. he cried on her and his best days were spent with her. the second they kissed last summer, he knew they were in it for the long run. no one could point out a cause for conrad’s recent misery. all they wanted to do was find a light for him in this tunnel. y/n was well aware that he had been struggling. he wasn’t opening up, but she knew that just being there next to him in bed was enough for him. no one has ever gone through the trouble of loving him so much, instead of just reaching over for a condom. he felt trapped everywhere he went, and the dock is where he decompressed. y/n always found him there, the only person he really wanted there. belly and jeremiah had come out there, but something about y/n’s hand in his made his heart balance.

as much as he wishes to forget all his thoughts, he was so happy with her all the time. she was like an eraser to the spelling mistakes and a bandaid on the cuts. she was more than just a girlfriend to him, she was a lifesaver.

y/n decided to just walk over to the fisher’s beach house. she hadn’t driven, knowing he’d probably want her to stay the night as well. despite the sun being out of the sky, the air was still warm and wrapped you in like a hug. you could smell the salt of the ocean and the damp grass in their yard. the sky was clear, just the high crescent of the moon reflecting on the water. something about it was therapeutic, reminder her of the boy waiting for her in the backyard.

she shuffled through a few patches a grass before carefully making her way down the dock to meet conrad. she greeted him as he had a joint in between his lips, lighting it up before releasing the smoke. “hey,” y/n says, sitting down next to him.

“you came,” he replies, almost sounding surprised.

“of course i did,” she grins. she takes the joint and places it between her own lips, inhaling and then blowing out a puff. the dock smelt like weed, but it was no secret that they’d been smoking. besides, susannah did it with laurel all the time. “you ok?”

“yeah, just wanted to see you,” he looks into her eyes and smiles. “i couldn’t sleep.”

“explains the pot we’re smoking. i couldn’t sleep either.” she hands it back to conrad. “even if i was sleeping, you know i’d come to you whenever.”

“i know. i’m always just eager to see you in person.”

“why?” she questions, teasingly. she knows the answer, but wants him to do it for himself. he leans in, pulling the joint back and landing a passionate kiss on her lips.

“because i can’t kiss you like that over the phone.”

she blushes like a middle schooler when her crush just looks at her once. like they haven’t been seeing each other since last summer and like she isn’t the only thing getting him out of bed in the morning. she looks deep into his red eyes, admiring every thought and feeling inside his beautiful head. “i’m always here for you, conrad. winter, spring, summer, and fall, i’ll be there.”

his lips curl into another thrilling smile, wrapping his arm around her as they pass the joint around a few times. they sit there for a while, glaring at the calm ripples in the water. it was just before midnight when they checked his phone again, seeing the bright numbers illuminate their faces. he gives y/n a mischievous look. “are you hungry?”

she directs another look of confusion to him, “what are you saying, fisher?”

the two stumble inside, stoned as they walk into the kitchen to take out a box of mac & cheese from the cabinet. they look over to jeremiah and steven, both slumped on the couch with their controllers on their stomach and the TV on a screensaver. “don’t wake them up, they’re gonna want some!” conrad attempts a whisper, but his small giggles pass through instead.

“shut the fuck up, we’re trying to be quiet,” y/n replies. as soon as she opens the drawer to get out a pot, a few of them clatter around and steven shuffles in his sleep. they both crouch down on the floor in hysterics until they hear the light snores from steven again.

“don’t worry about jeremiah, he’s slept on the bench at six flags once,” conrad says, peeking over to the two sleeping teens on the couch. they slowly fill the pot up with water and wait for it to boil. they don’t turn the timer on, just calculate the times on their phone as the water almost boils over to edge.

“shit, i told you to watch the water,” conrad says, turning the burner down.

“no, we both agreed i was gonna look at the phone.”

“it’s whatever, baby, just pour that cheese in here,” conrad requests after straining the flavorless pasta out of the water. they both pour each others bowls before running upstairs to conrad’s room. “we fucking did it!”

“finally, oh my god,” y/n speaks, sitting down on his bed as she places her bowl on his nightstand. “wanna watch shitty reality tv?”

“what type of question is that? of course, i want to,” he says sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air before laying down on his bed and pulling y/n into him. her head was on his chest as his arm wrapped around her. they watched some old reruns of the kardashians before they were both eventually knocked out on his bed.

the sun had finally risen, and everyone else was up and ready for the day. they’d been eating their breakfast, and the kids were asking where conrad was.

“i’ll go check on connie, i’ll be right back,” susannah says, sweetly as she walks up the stairs she walks in to conrad and y/n on the bed, their bowls abandoned on the floor as her head is on chest, and his arms were around her. susannah laughs and debates whether or not to shake them awake, but she just nudges conrad a bit as he stretches and opens his eyes. “hey, we’re making breakfast if you want to join us?”

“oh, yeah. i’ll be down in a minute. she was tired, i might let her sleep for a little longer,” he says, looking at y/n.

“of course, she’s always welcome, connie,” susannah leaves the door open a crack and goes back downstairs. if y/n made conrad happy, then y/n made susannah happy.

#the summer i turned pretty #belly x conrad #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher oneshot #jeremiah x reader #belly x jeremiah #steven conklin #belly conklin #susannah fisher #laurel conklin #jeremiah fisher #cam cameron

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 6 months

Note

(Full HC)

We've had the M6 bodyswapping with their familiars, we've had the M6 bodyswapping with each other… But what kind of antics would ensue if the M6 had a bodyswapping incident with MC?

The Arcana HCs: When M6 bodyswap with MC

~ anon, you spectacular genius ~

-- to set the scene --

You know you're in a magic-infused dream as soon as you open your eyes. Off to your right, you can see your beloved standing in the open air, staring at the glowing ball of light that hovers in front of them. You're about to remind them of the cardinal magic rule - don't touch the mystery orb - but by the time you call their name, it's too late. Imagine your surprise when you wake up to your own face staring back at you from your pillow!

Julian

He's staring at you in horror because he knew his eyebags were bad but he didn't know they were that bad

You, on the other hand, are experiencing all the physical ailments of a 6'4 human that never remembers to eat and the headache of needing a daily dose of six shots of espresso to function

He's immediately concerned about physical wellbeing and checking both of you over for any signs of injury. Yeah, he doesn't hate magic anymore, but he's still not comfortable with it

Coaches you on how to speak more like him in his voice. His voice is made for DRAMA, MC, you must PROJECT! ENUNCIATE! The people at the back can't hear you!

He's also going to encourage you to wear all of his normal getup. Enjoy wearing multiple layers of leather in a Mediterranean climate, MC, it's all for the *aesthetic*

You, however, have a secret weapon, and that is basic self care

You are going to eat so much nutritious food and drink so much clean water and get so much sleep and sunlight and exercise ...

It's also payback for how much you're sweating right now, because you won't be the one dealing with all the sore muscles later

He gets unbearably flustered when he changes clothes/bathes in your body and won't stop talking about it

Asra

They know exactly what's happened as soon as they wake up and they know it's their fault and they have 0 regrets. none.

Quick to suggest taking a lazy day so you won't have to juggle the shop with this. And then suggests sleeping in immediately after

He's very curious about what it's like to enjoy all kinds of experiences in your body, but he doesn't do anything until he knows you're comfortable with it (including changing)

Gets distracted/sidetracked every time they pass a mirror/window/shiny pot/remotely reflective surface because they like your face and it keeps surprising them to see it reflected back at them

You're about to watch yourself make the weirdest faces into the mirror as they try to document what your face looks like with different expressions

Has the time of his life picking out his outfit (to wear on your body) and watching you pick out yours (to wear on his body)

Pulls out every food item in your kitchen because they want to know if you taste things differently than they do. You're going to wake up with heartburn tomorrow

Might suggest pranking a few friends, but he's generally so averse to conflict that he won't be dead set on the idea

Occasionally taps into your bond, just to ground themself

Nadia

She's going to keep lying still for a moment or two to finish processing what's just happened and decide what she's going to do about it

And then she's going to teasingly tell you that you're welcome to help yourself to her body, and ask if she can help herself to yours

Tells a trusted Palace servant that she is indisposed and that neither of you will be available today (because there's no way she's going to try to swap jobs with you)

You might be tempted to set yourself up in front of a mirror and see if there's any pose or outfit in the world that Nadia can't look elegant in. She'll have a very amusing time watching you

Portia will inevitably hear about her absence and stop by at some point, which will only ramp up the hilarity

Nadia does suggest sneaking out at some point, your body makes for a great disguise and a day on the town sounds fun!

(You still haven't figured out how to tell her that what sets her apart more than her appearance is her bearing. You've never seen your own posture look that good)

Speaking of posture, welcome to life in a body that's excellently cared for! You can stretch in every direction and nothing hurts!

Though this much thick hair is heavy and hot

Muriel

Oh, he knows before he opens his eyes that something's off, because the furs feel unusually heavy over him and he's never shared a bed with anything bigger than he is

Speaking of, he had no idea that his body radiated that much heat. It's like lying next to a furnace (and it's more comforting than he expected. maybe you're onto something with all the snuggling)

He's violently uncomfortable with being in your body, mostly because he's assuming you'd like it back, and he doesn't want to do anything with it that you don't want him to

You, on the other hand, spend a day as the pilot of a body with unusual size and strength. You're going to have to be reeeeally careful not accidentally bump your head/break and tear stuff

What you choose to do with that is entirely up to you (and up to your body's capacity to contain Muriel's embarrassed blush)

Have fun flexing and watching yourself turn beet red

He is going to request that the two of you stay in the woods and out of sight, which certainly makes things easier

He's also going to apologize to you because he knows this was his fault (you'll have to convince him that being in his body is not a miserable experience, which he may have a hard time believing)

Inanna will be wolf-laughing at both of you the whole time

Portia

She woke up first and put two and two together. By the time you open your eyes, your face is staring back at you with this specific expression: >:3

Also, your body is buzzing (and I mean, buzzing) with energy. You feel like you could climb a mountain and still have the capacity to chop down at least 20 trees. Oh, and your hands are tiny

It's going to take a second for her to get used to your body, if only because she keeps stopping at every new movement/sensation to comment on it/experiment with it/tease you about it

As soon as you've had breakfast, she's taking the day off and dragging you into town for some good old-fashioned mischief

Because yeah, she just woke up in one of the most powerful magician's bodies in the world, she fully plans on taking advantage of that. Who wouldn't??

Long story short, your day is going to consist of running after her while she comments on your "low energy levels" (they're not low, they're human) and wreaks havoc with your magical capacity

The fountain in the town square spouts glowing orange water for a week after she passes through. Even she isn't sure how she did it, so you just have to wait it out and hope it won't poison anyone

Mazelinka saw you two at one point and cried laughing

Lucio

It takes him a while to figure out what's happened

Don't misread this as him assuming that things are normal. He knows things are not normal, because he's getting human sensations from his left arm

But his first assumption is that this is because his arm magically grew back in the night, and his second assumption when he sees his own body next to him is that he's been cloned

You wake up because he's frantically calling your name, asking why his voice sounds so weird and if you had to clone him as part of getting his human arm back and where you've disappeared to

Shrieks and falls backwards off the bed when his clone's eyes open and you tell him what's happened from his own body

You, on the other hand, are going to spend all day figuring out how to function with a metal arm. It's nowhere near as easy as he makes it look, plus it makes that whole side of your body cold

Lucio insists on doing your eyeliner (on his face) because yes, he loves you, and yes, he trusts you, but that's his signature look and he needs it to be perfect

And then you're going to accidentally ruin his face anyways when you go to scratch an itch, forgetting about the claws on his hand

It's nothing compared to his attempts to use your magic

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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watchmegetobsessed · 6 months

Text

ONE YEAR

A/N: heeey look at that! im posting something new again!

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: On the day before Christmas you realize just how much has changed in one year.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Time has always been such a weird concept in your life. When you were a kid one year felt like a decade, week-long summer vacations felt endless and you could have sworn that you’d never grow up.

But then, of course, you did, like everyone else and time sneakily started to speed up. One day after the other, weeks turned into months and years and before you could realize, another birthday has passed, you got older even though the last one felt like it was yesterday.

One year can feel like a second, but it can also make such a difference and today, the day before Christmas you’re reminded of it.

Waking up you’re not surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. The mornings when you could peacefully cuddle with Harry are now long gone, but knowing that he is somewhere out with your daughter makes up for all the missed moments together in bed.

Stretching long you give yourself a couple more minutes to just rest and get your head ready for the day. The night wasn’t too rough, only had to wake up twice to feed Alma and she went back to sleep without a fuss this time. Maybe she can finally feel the Christmas spirit as well and her gift is to let you rest finally.

Sitting up in bed you turn towards the window and see that it’s still snowing, the street outside is clothed in the prettiest white blankets that’s almost entirely untouched since it’s so early in the morning. Your wish for Alma to have a first Christmas with snow is actually coming true.

Snatching one of Harry’s hoodies from the closet, you make your way out of the bedroom as you’re putting it on, noticing his voice coming from the living room the moment you reach the stairs. Trying to be as quiet as possible you head down, hearing his cooing voice that’s for sure for Alma.

“See them? You like them? They are pretty, right?”

He has the most soothing voice as it is, but whenever he is talking to Alma it feels like it softens even more, as if that little girl melts the man in every possible way.

Well, that’s kind of the truth, Harry is smitten with his girl.

Harry is standing by the window that watches over the snowy street, the lights of the christmas tree reflecting in the glass because it’s still a bit dark outside. He is holding Alma in one arm, holding the curtains to the side with his free hand, gently swaying from side to side, a motion that always calms your baby, but only when her daddy does it.

As you watch them in awe you think back to this exact day a year ago. It’s one to remember, because this was the day you found out you were pregnant and you shared the news with Harry. As much as you love your daughter, it’s no secret you weren’t planning her arrival so soon. Harry proposed just weeks before the pregnancy came into the picture and you both agreed to take some time just for the two of you, enjoy married life alone before expanding your family. Travel, explore, find yourself before becoming parents.

All those plans changed when the second line appeared on your test.

Harry was surprised, maybe even shocked a bit. Not because he didn’t want kids, but because he was planning with another timeline that only included babies in 2-3 years. You talked for long hours that day and he told you he doesn’t feel ready, that he’s afraid he might not be the best father our baby deserves and he’s scared he might mess it up. You both cried and shared all your feelings and thoughts.

It took time for him to settle with the idea of becoming a father earlier than he planned, but by the time the nursery was done, he was a changed man. Throughout your pregnancy he did everything he could to better himself and be ready for Alma’s arrival. He read every possible parenting book out there, always took care of you and looked for ways to be more present in this new chapter of your life together.

Now it’s been four months since Alma was born and Harry is easily the best father you could ever wish for your baby and you’re so proud of him for everything he does for you and Alma as well. There’s no trace of that scared, doubtful man you sat on the couch with a year ago, the positive pregnancy test lying on the coffee table in front of you.

Alma’s head turns, as if she had a sixth sense to notice when you’re around and she gives you a toothless grin as you make your way across the room. Harry turns and you see the same sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you that you saw the first time you met. He says he knew he would marry you one day the moment he laid his eyes on you. You believe him, because you felt the same way.

“Good morning you two,” you smile, pressing a kiss to Alma’s forehead and one to Harry’s lips.

“Morning Mommy, we didn’t wake you up, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. Alma visibly starts to wiggle towards you, Harry hands her over and she lays her head to your chest right away, her tiny hands grabbing onto the sweatshirt that smells like Harry.

“Princess is kinda hungry, but I thought I could prolong breakfast a bit and distract her with the snow.” Harry smiles gently, running his knuckles down the side of Alma’s round face.

“You like the snow, huh? We’ll see how much you like it when we’re outside in the cold,” you chuckle.

You move over to the couch and Harry follows you, you sit beside each other, Harry’s arm instantly comes around you, pulling you against his chest as you settle Alma in your arms to feed her. This has been your usual for the morning feeding, but almost all feeding, because Harry loves being present in these moments. All those sleepless nights when she woke up every two hours and you had to sit in the nursery for most of the night to feed her, Harry was there every time. If you weren’t sleeping, he wasn’t either, even if all he could do was just be there, run his fingers through your hair and tell you how great of a mother you are, he never missed a chance to be present.

As usual, Alma passes out in your arms once her tummy is full and you can’t help but just stare at her and think of how you can’t imagine your life without her now.

Turning your head you find Harry gazing down at her as well with sparkling eyes and you wish to see him like this, so happy and content every day for the rest of your life.

“What?” he asks with a tiny, shy smirk, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Just… I was thinking about how much has happened in one year.”

Harry hums and you know he is thinking about the same thing from last year.

“Yeah. It’s crazy. Can’t wait to see what the next one holds.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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lemonlover1110 · 9 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 11] Date

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

You find yourself all giddy the next morning when you’re at the Gojo estate, trying your best to pay attention to your boss. Mrs. Gojo is trying on a dress, trying to see if it’s the best fit for the charity event that’s coming up– You remember it being two months away, but she begins to prepare for it now.

Working for her has been a delight since you don’t have to do much around. She wants you to stay away from Satoru. However, she called up this weekend for this. She tugs on the sides of the dress and tells you, “Call the tailor, I spent too much money on this dress to not wear it. Also I need you to send flowers to the Inumaki family and make sure they’re coming.”

And the more time you spend with her, you realize that she’s practically running the company by making sure the connections the family has are intact. The more you do, the more you realize that the majority of people don’t believe Satoru is adept enough to take over his father’s job. He was going to take over the company someday anyway, everyone knew so, you’re not sure why so many people are against it.

It almost makes you feel bad for Satoru, but you don’t. It’d take a lot more for you to feel bad for that man. You hum in response, and write down a reminder for yourself. She lists a bunch of other things that you have to do, and you write each one down, and what she notices from the reflection of her mirror is that there’s a smile on your face, “What is up with you?”

“Um… Nothing, ma’am.” You respond. You watch from the reflection of the mirror as her brows furrow. She walks away from the mirror and grabs her glass of water. She takes a sip of her water before putting it down again.

“What has my son said to you?” She asks, and you’re not sure what she’s talking about since Satoru hasn’t really talked to you. You haven’t even gotten the chance to see him this morning, so you’re not sure why she asks that question.

“I haven’t spoken to him.” You answer, and she wants to believe you. But there’s a reason you have a stupid smile glued to your lips, and she’s certain it’s because of her son.

“Then why are you so smiley today?” And your brows raise. You find yourself confused as to why she thinks her son has to do with your happiness. She should know better than that. Her son has caused you anything but happiness in the past five years.

“I have a date tonight, it has nothing to do with Satoru.” You end up sharing, which she has no problem believing. Satoru is busy tonight, and she knows that it’s not with you. She won’t pry about your personal life, unless it becomes serious and the man can become her grandson’s possible step father.

“Alright.” She responds, and you worry that she’ll push the subject, but she doesn’t seem to care. “Did you already handle catering?”

“I did.” You answer. She begins to ask about stuff that he has handled, stupid trifling details. You feel as if she’s worrying about the most trivial things. Satoru might be new at this, but he isn’t a complete idiot. “You don’t have to worry about anything, ma’am, your son has it covered.”

“Are you sure he does, though? He’s not a man that seems to care about tiny details, and they’re important. Especially in this world.” She responds, and you know better than to refute that argument. She might be right about the fact that tiny details are important, but she underestimates her son. You’ve seen Satoru work his ass off and he seems to care about every tiny detail, but you aren’t going to waste your breath defending Satoru; you doubt that he’s ever defended you, and you’re not going to risk arguing with Mrs. Gojo for him. “I don’t need you anymore. Do what I told you to, and then you can leave.”

“Alright.” You begin to walk to the door, but you hear her voice which makes you stop in your tracks.

“How’s Ren, by the way?” She asks.

“He’s fine.” You respond. She doesn’t say anything else, which makes you exit the room. When you get to the stairs, you hear your name. But it’s not your boss. Neither of them. You take a deep breath before turning to see Sayo, wearing yoga pants, and a sports bra. She has her ebony hair up in a ponytail, and she’s extremely sweaty– Your eyes are staring somewhere they aren’t supposed to.

“It’s so nice to see you!” Sayo has a smile on her lips. She has a towel behind her neck and she uses it to wipe off the sweat that’s everywhere. Even without makeup she’s simply stunning. “Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah…” You answer. Maybe you should ask the same question to her, but you really don’t want to engage in conversation right now. You just want to get home, spend some time with your son, and then get ready for your date.

“Are you doing anything tonight? I’m going out with Shoko, and I meant to ask you if you wanted to join us.” She says when you don’t say anything else. She doesn’t seem to have too many friends, and you genuinely feel bad for being so cold to her, but you don’t see yourself being friends with Satoru’s wife, especially when you have a son that he doesn’t know about.

“I already have plans tonight, I’m really sorry.” You tell her, and she lightly nods her head. Your eyes fall on the man that’s walking behind her, he’s walking your way. You quickly look back at her and sheepishly smile, “Maybe some other time.”

“Yeah… I’ll talk to Shoko to see what we can set up!” She effortlessly smiles back. Satoru really hit the jackpot with her, and it irks you. You wouldn’t be able to smile so easily while disappointed, and maybe this is one of the reasons she’s ideal for Satoru. She can uphold the image of his family, while you wouldn’t have been able to. She ends up turning on her heel and walking down the hallway to go to her room. She doesn’t acknowledge her husband, and her husband doesn’t acknowledge her when they walk past each other.

You try not to stare at Satoru, turning to walk down the stairs. He catches up to you and walks behind you. You begin to walk towards the front door but he takes the opportunity to speak up since from here he won’t be heard by anyone– Except by you and the workers downstairs, but they all know you have a history together. They literally know more than Satoru himself.

“I know that maybe she isn’t the ideal woman to spend the night with but… She’s trying to be your friend.” Satoru speaks up. You come to a stop, your brows furrowing. You turn to look at him, and try to act unbothered.

“I don’t want to turn your wife down, Satoru, but I do have a date to go to.” You share with him, and his brows raise. His hands go to his pockets and he tries to think of how to respond to that, but he doesn’t have anything to say. Nothing nice at least. Nothing smart.

“Uh… That’s nice to know.” He ends up saying, awkwardly looking elsewhere. Since you have nothing else to say to each other, you end up walking out of the house. His feet are glued to the floor and it takes a lot for him to lift his feet up and walk away.

“I love you, Ren.” You kiss the top of his head, and he doesn’t pay too much attention to you since his eyes are glued to the television. He doesn’t seem to realize that you’re going out tonight, and even if he did, his show is more fun and important than his mother, apparently. “Bye bye, Ren.”

“Bye.” He responds, waving his tiny hand, his head not even facing you. You almost roll your eyes and turn off the screen, but you’d rather have this than him crying. You hug your mother and then walk out of your apartment. Suguru is in the lobby of the building, waiting for you to show up. He offered to pick you up at your door, but you don’t feel like it’s appropriate with Ren being right there– You feel like you’ll owe your son an explanation about everything, and it’s too early for that. You have no idea what’ll result with Suguru.

Your eyes land right on him when you get to the lobby, he’s awkwardly glancing at his phone, and you call out his name to catch his attention. He looks up, putting his phone in his pocket and smiling at you as you walk over to him. He gives you a side hug before you walk out of the apartment building.

“I’m so excited for this.” You confess, and you try your best to suppress just how eager you are to be doing this. Maybe when you were sixteen you had a tiny crush on him, but nothing quite like how you felt for Satoru. Looking at a picture of Suguru would make you giggle and maybe your face would get warm, but you felt your heart skip a beat at a picture of Satoru.

But that’s not you anymore… At least that’s not who you’re trying to be. You can actually trust Suguru, which you hate to think about; thinking that you can’t actually trust Satoru is heartbreaking considering you’ve loved him for so long–

“I’m also really excited.” Suguru says, grabbing your hand as he walks you to his car. Your fingers intertwine, and you have the biggest smile on your face. You don’t even remember when was the last time you held hands with someone that wasn’t Ren, trying to stop the child from running off. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thank you.” You smile, and you feel your face warm up. You get to his car, to no surprise it’s a rather luxurious car (one similar to the one you have, one that you didn’t buy but your boss). He opens the car door for you, and you mutter another thank you before getting in. Your leg begins to bounce, and you wonder if maybe you are a tad bit nervous. It would be weird for you not to be, you don’t remember the last time you went on a date; additionally, this isn’t Satoru. You’ve only ever dated Satoru. This is the first time that you’re on a date with someone else.

Suguru gets into the driver’s seat and you take a deep breath. He starts the car and begins to drive. For the first minute you’re quiet since you’re visibly nervous– At least you bite your bottom lip, your leg bouncing and you’re looking elsewhere. He clears his throat and he asks, “How’s Ren doing, by the way?”

“He’s fine! He was watching some stupid show when I left and barely paid attention to me.” Your speech comes out a little too fast at first, and it’s hard for him to make out the words but he figures it out. You have to give it a minute to get used to these sudden nerves that overcome you. “He reminds me a lot of Satoru when he was of similar age.”

“Not gonna lie, I forget a lot about the fact that you’ve known Satoru for just as long as I have.” Suguru shares, and you chuckle. Your chuckle turns into an unintentional frown though, and you try to shake the thoughts that come to your head… But you can’t, so you share them with him.

“Not anymore. We’ve lost years of friendship.” You say, and you try to change the subject since you’ve made the conversation awkward. “How are you liking your job so far? How’s your residency going?”

You watch as he smiles, even though he tells you he’s tired. He likes what he’s doing, and you try not to pity yourself. You’re happy for him, you tell yourself that over and over again. You were supposed to be in a similar position and maybe if…

You’re happy for him. You’re happy with your baby boy and what life has given you, even if it isn’t ideal.

“God, she’s stressing me out.” You comment, referring to Mrs. Gojo. You have no idea how you got to this conversation. Slowly you’ve gotten more and more comfortable with each other, and you finally ended up in the topic of your boss who happens to be the grandmother of your son. “She was fine and then she– I don’t know, man. She’s micromanaging every single one of Satoru’s moves, and I’m the one that ends up with double work.”

“She’s always been a nightmare. Every time I have a nightmare she appears in it.” Suguru jokes, which makes you laugh. You have no idea why you were so nervous at first, you haven’t had this much fun in a while. He clears his throat and says, “The hospital I’m working at needs a receptionist, if you’re interested.”

“She pays too well and covers all my costs. As much as I’d love to leave, I don’t think I can.” You respond. “She got me the same car you have but in a different color, and it’s in my name. As stressed as I am, I’m living great.”

“And she paid for it? Shit, sign me up.” Suguru laughs. He proceeds to add, “What do I have to do? Fuck Satoru?”

“Have a child with him too.” You tell him, and he raises a brow and pouts his lips. He takes a moment to think about it.

“Hmm… That’s a challenge, but I’ll figure it out.” You both burst into a fit of laughter. You want to do this again. There’s an awkward moment of silence, and Suguru’s finger begins to tap the table. He has something to say, and you stay quiet so you can hear his question. “Do you… Regret any of it?”

“That’s not a conversation for a first date, is it?” You ask and he mutters an apology. He’s about to change the subject, but you proceed to answer the question, “I don’t regret any of it… Sometimes I think I do but Ren is–”

He loudly begins to cough, and you look at him weird, until you notice his eyes stare behind you. You turn your head, and you roll your eyes seeing the last person that you want to look at right now. He’s with his mother, most likely dealing with some business matters. Satoru doesn’t seem to notice you, his hand going up and waving at Suguru as he approaches your table.

“Hey, Suguru!” You turn back to look at Suguru, hoping that you’ll be able to hide because you’re certain this will be awkward– And it’ll certainly cause problems to arise.

“Satoru! Hey!” Suguru tries to act like nothing is up, maybe Satoru will just greet him and walk to another table.

“Don’t mean to interrupt your date, just wanted to greet you.” Satoru says, which is ironic since he doesn’t stop walking until he’s right behind you. Satoru just sees the back of a head, and when he tilts to try and get a look at you, you move so he’s not able to see you. “I hope you have a great–”

It takes him a moment but he remembers that you also had a date. It can’t be you… right? He says your name, and your eyes widen. You turn to look at him, and you swear you can see as his heart drops.

“Hi, Satoru.”

“I–” His brows furrow. He tries to think of what to say, but he doesn’t gather the right words to say. He doesn’t know what he feels. Overwhelming emotions take over, and he doesn’t know how to react.

So he walks away.

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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princesscait26 · 8 days

Text

A Unlikely Friendship: 2

Summary: The two rivals wives are caught (I’m really bad at summaries)

Alastor x reader, Vox x unnamed wife, Vox’s wife x reader Platonic!

Part 1

At the Hazbin Hotel, Y/n sat at her vanity, meticulously getting ready for the day. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the vanity bulbs. She was applying her lipstick when she noticed a familiar shadow in the mirror's reflection. Without turning, she spoke with a slight smile curving her now red lips, “I know you’re here.”

The shadow shifted, and in its place stood the Radio Demon himself. Alastor’s crimson eyes and broad smile fixed on his wife with a blend of curiosity and suspicion. “Where are you going today, my darling? It’s still only the morning,” he inquired, his tone deceptively casual.

Alastor was known throughout Hell for his malevolence, but in the presence of his wife, he was softened, almost vulnerable. Her absence left him feeling incomplete, a sensation he loathed.

Y/n turned, meeting his intense gaze with practiced ease. Avoiding his question, she picked up her purse and leaned in to plant a light kiss on his cheek. “I’m going out. I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t forget you have a meeting with Charlie today, dear!”

Before Alastor could react, she slipped past him, the reminder of his meeting momentarily distracting him. She made her way to the door, her heart pounding as she sensed his gaze burning into her back.

The moment the door clicked shut, Alastor’s smile twitched, replaced by a look of steely determination. His possessiveness gnawed at him. Where was his wife off to, and what was she doing? His mind raced with possibilities, none of which he liked.

He could not simply let it go. Summoning his shadow, he issued a silent command. "Follow her. Report back to me."

As Y/n exited the hotel and stepped into the bustling streets of Hell, she felt a chill, a whisper of unease that she couldn't quite shake. She knew Alastor's nature all too well, knew he wouldn’t take her abrupt departure lightly. Yet, she couldn’t let him control every aspect of her life.

Back at the hotel, Alastor paced his room, the meeting with Charlie all but forgotten. His thoughts were consumed by his wife’s mysterious outings. Though he trusted her, his darker instincts drove him to ensure her safety and loyalty.

———————————————————————

Y/n was blissfully unaware of Alastor's shadow trailing her as she made her way to the café. Believing she had successfully slipped away, she pushed open the door and was immediately enveloped by the comforting aroma of coffee and pastries. The gentle hum of conversation filled the air.

“Y/n!” a familiar voice called out. She turned to see Vox's wife, waving enthusiastically from a corner table. Y/n smiled and waved back, weaving her way through the tables to join her friend.

"I ordered your usual," she said with a warm smile as Y/n sat down. "Late again, I see. Did Alastor give you a hard time leaving?" She laughed, the sound bright and infectious.

Y/n giggled, sharing in the inside joke that both women held—how their husbands never made it easy for them to leave. "You know him too well," she replied with a chuckle. "It’s like trying to escape a shadow."

Vox’s wife’s eyes twinkled. "Well, we manage. It’s nice having these moments to ourselves."

Y/n sighed contentedly, her expression softening. "I enjoy your company so much. It’s rare to find someone who truly understands. You’re a great friend."

"You're too sweet," Vox’s wife replied, her smile widening. "If only our husbands knew how much they actually had in common."

The two women laughed, their voices mingling with the ambient sounds of the café. They reveled in their shared moments, finding solace and camaraderie in each other's presence.

Unbeknownst to them, Alastor's shadow had witnessed the entire encounter. It slipped away, returning swiftly to its master. Alastor listened intently to the shadow's report, his expression shifting from curiosity to shock, then to anger. How dare his wife meet with Vox’s wife, of all people!

On the other side of the city, Vox had grown suspicious as well and decided to follow his wife. When he arrived at the café, he was surprised and annoyed to see Alastor approaching from the opposite direction. Their eyes locked, and both men bristled at the sight of the other.

"What are you doing here?" Vox demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Alastor sneered. "I might ask you the same thing. I have every right to be here."

"As do I," Vox retorted, stepping closer. "However, it seems we have a more pressing matter at hand."

Their attention turned toward the café’s interior, where Y/n and Vox’s wife were laughing and chatting, oblivious to the storm brewing outside.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Alastor's tone is dripping with amusement, but his eyes betray a flicker of something darker. He stands at the entrance, his silhouette casting an imposing shadow over their table. Next to him, Vox's eyes blaze with barely contained rage, his screen flickering.

The café falls silent, the patrons' eyes darting between the two imposing figures and the women. Y/n's heart skips a beat as she locks eyes with Alastor, his usually warm gaze to her now cold and penetrating.

"Alastor," Y/n starts, attempting to keep her voice steady, "This isn't what it looks like."

Vox's wife stands up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Vox, I—"

But Vox cuts her off, his voice low and seething. "You think I wouldn't find out? That you could hide this from me?" His words hang heavily in the air, his fists clenching at his sides.

Alastor steps closer, his smile never wavering but his eyes darkening. "My dear, I am not so easily deceived. And to think, you two have been meeting behind our backs. It seems our rivalry has taken a rather... unexpected turn."

Y/n can see the hurt beneath Alastor's facade. Despite his charm and confidence, there is a sting of betrayal in his eyes. She takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Alastor, we just wanted a break from the constant fighting. It was never meant to hurt you two. To be with someone who understands."

Vox's wife nods in agreement, her eyes pleading with her husband. "Vox, please understand. We needed to escape the endless cycle of your battles. We needed each other."

But Vox, his pride wounded, steps forward towards the two women, his voice cold. "You think I care about your excuses? This betrayal is unacceptable. You think sneaking behind our backs was a good solution" He glares at Alastor, as if blaming him for this newfound alliance between their wives.

Alastor, ever the performer, turns his attention back to Y/n, putting a hand up stopping Vox from getting closer to Y/n. His smile returning but now tinged with bitterness. "It seems we have more in common than we thought, Vox. Betrayed by those closest to us."

Vox scoffs, his gaze never leaving his wife. "Don't lump me in with you, Alastor. This changes nothing between us. If anything, it intensifies our rivalry."

Y/n steps forward, her voice firm. "Enough. Both of you. This isn't about your rivalry. It's about us, your wives, who have had enough of your childish antics. We wanted peace, but it seems that's too much to ask for."

Vox's wife joins her, her voice soft but determined. "We love you both, but we can't keep living like this. It’s exhausting. All of your time goes to your fight with him, Vox. Something has to change."

The tension in the café is palpable, the silence deafening as Alastor and Vox process their wives' words. Finally, Alastor speaks, his voice softer but still edged with frustration. "Perhaps we do need to reassess our priorities."

Vox, his anger simmering down to a low boil, nods in agreement. "For once, I agree with Alastor. This isn't over, but maybe it's a wake-up call."

Alastor's eyes flicked to Vox, surprise flickering across his face. "You're suggesting we... call a truce?"

"Temporary," Vox clarified, his tone grudging. "For the sake of our marriages."

Alastor considered this, then nodded slowly. "Agreed. Temporary."

Relief washed over Y/n and Vox’s wife as the tension in the air finally began to ease. The initial shock and anger on Alastor and Vox's faces had subsided into something more manageable, though still simmering beneath the surface.

Alastor, ever the gentleman, extended a hand to Y/n. “Come, my dear,” he said softly, though his eyes still held a hint of possessiveness. “Let’s return home. We have much to discuss.”

Y/n took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Of course, darling,” she replied, casting a reassuring smile over her shoulder at Vox’s wife.

Vox, meanwhile, wrapped a protective arm around his wife’s shoulders. “We’re leaving,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “We need to talk as well.”

She nodded, leaning into him slightly. “Alright, Vox,” she murmured, her eyes meeting Y/n’s with a mixture of amusement and solidarity.

As the two couples moved in opposite directions, the two women turned back to each other, sharing a silent understanding. Their eyes met, and both broke into large, conspiratorial smiles. They waved goodbye, their hands lingering in the air as long as they could see each other.

“Until next time,” Y/n mouthed, her smile warm and genuine.

“Definitely,” she mouthed back, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The café doors closed behind them, separating the two women physically but not in spirit. As Alastor and Vox led their wives away, the men’s grips firm yet gentle, the women’s thoughts lingered on their cherished friendship, silently vowing that this unexpected encounter wouldn’t be their last.

In the bustling streets of Hell, amidst the chaos and constant noise, two friendships stood resilient, bound by shared experiences and a mutual understanding of the complicated men they loved. For now, at least, the truce was a step toward peace—a fragile, tentative step, but a step nonetheless.

———————————————————————-

Taglist

@that-dumb-bitch

@alastorthirsty

@generalthirsty

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schoopsahoy · 1 year

Text

i’ve been dying to get you dizzy

steve harrington x roller-rink!reader {5.8k} part 2 to whip it you and steve have been casually dating for a few weeks now, he’s trying to take things slow but then you invite him to stay the night. 18+ mdni steve still being a simp for reader. fluff/smut. no use of y/n. reader uses she/her pronouns.

cw: fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex

The sight of Steve leaning against his car in the parking lot of your work is still one that makes you a little giddy. The pink and gold of the sky cascading down on him in a soft light, reflecting off his skin and dousing him in a warm glow was something straight out of a movie, the boy lit up all golden and auric as he waits for you to finish your shift.

You practically skip over to him, holding onto the strap of your bag to keep it in place on your shoulder as you cross the warm concrete. “Hey, Stevie.” You beam, instantly throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him to pull him in for a hug.

Steve would never admit to anyone that he lets you call him Stevie, let alone that he likes it. The way you say it always coated in affection that warms his chest. “Hey, you. How was work?” His words are muffled into your hair as he hugs you tighter, arms around your waist.

“Looks pretty bad, sweetheart.” He frowns at the injury, hand instinctively moving to yours to run his thumb over the back of it.

“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth.

“Super tough.” He nods in agreement, mirroring your smile. Every time you two were together, Steve felt like it was a little too good to be true. Everything you said or did seemed so effortless but it still had his mind running crazy, his heart even more so. Ever since you started hanging out, away from your work or the prying eyes of his friends, he had to remind himself that it was all real and you genuinely wanted to see him. He’d made a mental note to take things slow, to not fuck this up or scare you off, but it was harder than it sounded when you were next to him all sugared up smiles and gentle touches.

“I know I said we should go for food tonight but I’m totally spent.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, twisting your body from side to side a little and making the hem of your skirt shift higher against your thighs. “D’you want to just get a take out? You can stay over too, if you want? Save you driving back in the dark.”

Steve feels like he’s been shocked, his entire body buzzing with something - excitement, maybe? Or nerves, or a mix of the two most likely. “Sure we can, whatever you want.” He hopes you don’t notice how hard he had to focus to force the words out, praying they came out casual and not in a croak of nerves.

“You’re the best, Stevie.” You go on your tip-toes to kiss him again, tasting like bubblegum and cherries and sweets and all the other sugary things you should have in moderation, something Steve doesn’t think he can manage with you. “And you’ll stay?” Your eyes are big and bright as you look up at him through your lashes, a hopeful smile on your face that he knows he has no chance of turning down.

“As long as you want me to.” He gives your hand a light squeeze.

“Of course I do, silly, S’why I offered.” You squeeze his hand back before letting go to finally make your way to the passenger side, Steve making sure he gets there first so he can open the door for you. It’s the sweet little gestures that have your heart beating faster, simple acts of devotion that seem so insignificant from the outside but are really unspoken words of so much more.

It’s not a long drive to your place from the rink, only about 15 minutes if you get lucky with traffic. Steve’s hand finds its place on your thigh for most of the journey, his touch barely there but still comforting. You occasionally trace along his fingers, or around its outline on your skin, just mindless touches whilst you listen to him talk about his day. You think you could just sit and watch him forever, have him talk about anything and you’d listen.

You direct Steve around the streets of your hometown, he’d picked you up from work a few times now but you usually spent your time together in Hawkin’s. Your apartment is along Main Street, a little one bed that sits above a flower shop. It’s not much, but you’d been determined to move out and be independent whilst you’re in college so you’re content with the small space you got to call your own.

“There’s a little lot around the back of the shops you can park in, just turn down here.” You lean forward in your seat to point to the small side road, Steve nodding and following your instructions to lead you both into the car park.

Steve pulls into the spot you point out, the one closest to the metal steps that lead up to your door. Now he’s here, in front of your place where he’s agreed to spend the night, his breathing gets a little quicker. He tries to keep it quiet, not wanting you to notice that he’s slightly freaking out.

“C’mon handsome, the takeout won’t order itself.” You grin at him, your house keys dangling on your pointer finger along with a collection of keyrings that all jangle together and glisten in the evening sun. You open the passenger door and step out the car, standing at the bottom of the staircase whilst Steve locks his car.

Steve takes a moment whilst locking up to try and chill himself out, a few deep breaths and words of encouragement muttered to himself. Though he’s not too sure “get it together” counts as encouragement, either way he needs to hear it.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy, I would’ve tidied up more if I knew I’d have company.” You look back to Steve as you climb the stairs, the old metal clanking with each step til you reach the top.

“You don’t have to apologise.” Steve shakes his head at you, you could open the door to a bomb site and he wouldn’t mind as long as he’s with you.

You have to fiddle with the lock a little to get it open, the door’s pretty old and probably rusted so the key needs to be twisted and lifted at an angle to get it to work. You get it after a few tries though, and push the door open to let yourself and Steve in.

“Ta-da.” You sing as you hold the door open for Steve, letting him step into your living room before closing it behind him.

The flat is small, but you‘ve filled it with fresh flowers and cosy furnishings to brighten it up. Candles dotted around the room on whatever surface they can fit on, next to little ceramic and glass trinkets and photos of you and your friends. It feels like home, a space you’ve cultivated as your own that nobody can take away from you.

Steve thinks it’s perfect, really, because he can tell it’s yours. The flowers and vanilla candles mix together so the room smells sweet, and everything looks soft and inviting. Your college books strewn across the coffee table, plush blankets hung over the arm of the couch, it was all another insight into your world that he was so desperate to be a part of.

“I can’t believe you think this is messy.” He chuckles, looking around the room again to take in all the little details.

“Wait til you see my bedroom, then you’ll change your tune.” You shrug your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor near the door, toeing your shoes off so you’re just left with your knee high socks on your feet.

Steve can’t even bring himself to think about seeing your bedroom, that idea pushed so far back into the corner of his mind so he can remain functional. “I bet it’s fine, you’re just dramatic.” He teases, trying to play off the fact he’s still in awe about being in your home.

“That’s true, I am.” You smile at him, no offense taken from his words because you can see the soft smile on his lips and the doting tone that always seems to be there when he speaks. “So, what d’you want? Pizza? Or there’s a Chinese not far that’s pretty good?” You pad across the room to the kitchen, the open plan layout meaning you can still see Steve as you root through one of the cupboards for menus. You hold them up when you find them, waving them in the air before you move back and hand them to him.

“You don’t wanna pick? You’re the one who’s been working all day.” He strokes the back of your hair gently with his free hand, you instantly leaning back into his touch.

You shake your head at his offer. “You’re the guest, you pick.”

Steve sighs a little, all sweetness at your offer. “Pizza sounds good. You happy with that?”

“Mhm, pick what you want and I’ll call ‘em.” You tap your nails against the menu in his hand, the vibrations running up his arm and making his hairs stand up.

It takes you both a little while to settle on an order, going back and forth about what you both want and finding a middle ground. You keep trying to tell Steve to choose what he wants and you’ll work around that, but Steve was far more concerned about you getting what you wanted. It was a lot of talking in circles til you both eventually settled.

Steve insists on paying when it arrives, too, despite your best efforts to at least go halves.

“Just take the money, Steve.” You hold the dollars out to him, trying to tuck them into his pocket when he shakes his head at you.

“Stop, stop.” Steve laughs, trying to dodge your hands whilst holding onto the pizza box. “If this falls we’ll have to do that all over again.”

You furrow your brow a little, pouting up at the boy. “Fine, but I’m getting it next time.” You flop yourself down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, shuffling your college textbooks to one side on the coffee table so the pizza box can fit. “Oh, wait, d’you want plates?” You go to stand up again but Steve shakes his head at you.

“I’ll get ‘em, where are they?” He sets the food down and walks into the kitchen.

“Cupboard above the sink.” You call through, watching him pull a couple of plates out and bring them back to you. “You’d make a great housewife.” You grin, taking one of them off him.

“I know, thinking of changing careers.” Steve sits himself down next to you, his leg pressed against yours so you can feel the rough denim on your skin.

“You’d look great in a frilly apron.” You lean forward to open the box, pulling out a slice of pizza for yourself and putting it on your plate.

“Yeah, you think?” Steve grins at you and helps himself to a slice.

“Mhm, real handsome.” You kiss him on the cheek before taking a bite of your food. “And I could be the breadwinner.”

“Oh I’m gonna be your housewife?”

“Obviously, I get first dibs.”

Steve smiles at you, all fondness and it makes your chest feel a little tight with how much you like it. “Yeah, you do.”

You end up watching a movie after your food, letting Steve root through the small pile of tapes that sit next to your tv set. They’re pretty old, most picked up in flea markets or taken from your family home. Most of them are horror films which makes Steve laugh, you feel like the personification of sunshine but your taste in movies is the complete opposite of that.

“You got anything lighthearted?” He turns his head to look at you from where he’s sat on the floor, you still sat on your couch with a blanket thrown over your lap.

“I’ve got Grease.”

“So the options are scary movies or Grease?”

“Withhold your judgment, Harrington.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest in fake upset.

“Oh I’m sorry, don’t surname me.” He pouts back at you, which makes you giggle and ruins your facade.

“Pick a film.” You wiggle your finger at the pile of tapes, Steve turning back to them again and eventually settling on Salem’s Lot.

“You gotta hit the player a little, to get it to work.” You instruct Steve, who taps the player a few times before it springs to life and starts whirring.

He settles back down next to you, and you instantly lean your head on his shoulder. He can smell your fruity shampoo as soon as you lay it there, and leans his own head against yours. It’s comfortable, like your head was supposed to fit there in the crook of his neck.

He tries his best to focus on the screen, but whenever you’re close to him it’s like all his senses are in overdrive and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. He hopes you can’t feel it, a dead giveaway to how you make him feel, how much he really likes you.

It only gets worse when you start placing gentle kisses against his neck, your hand laced in his and he’s so aware of every minute movement you make. Every small inhale, the fan of your eyelashes as you blink. He thinks he might be losing it a little.

You kiss up his neck and up to his cheek, eventually nudging your nose against it so he turns his face to you. You both look at each other for a moment, eyes studying the others face and lips until he eventually leans in to kiss you.

It’s a little reserved, gentle and careful like there’s still some boundary yet to be crossed. Steve’s hand cups your face, fingers lacing into your hair as he holds you close to him.

You press against him a little harder, lips parting slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a sweet sigh from the feeling. Your arms are around his shoulders so your fingers can run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Steve can feel himself getting lost in it all, how soft you are and how sweet you taste, and when you shuffle so you’re sitting in his lap he’s certain he’s absolutely gone. His hands move to your waist, but he barely grips you, his touch soft and hovering over your body.

You pull away a little, keeping your face close to Steve’s so your lips still brush together when you speak. “Y’know you can touch me, Stevie? I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, all sweet and a little teasing.

Steve smiles at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know, I just, uh,” he lets out a small sigh, nose nudging against your own, “you make me kinda nervous.”

You sit back a little now, still close and your fingers still combing through his hair. “What, why?” Your brows furrow slightly as you look at him with gentle concern. “Y’know I really like you, right?”

“I know, but you’re so pretty and smart and like, so out of my league.” He chuckles to try and cover the fact he’s actually wearing his heart on his sleeve, the confession making him feel like he could pass out or combust at any second.

You just shake your head at him, lips curled up into a smile that makes him want to melt. “What’ve I gotta do to prove it to you? Put it on a big sign?” You place soft kisses up and along his throat, breaking them up with your words. “Or I could make a t-shirt?” You move your kisses up to his face so you can look at him again, eyes bright with tenderness for the boy in front of you.

“The t-shirt sounds good.” Steve can feel his skin heat up wherever you place your kisses, your sweet words and soft touches driving him a little crazy.

You giggle, moving one hand to cup his jaw. “Yeah? I can do that.” You press your lips against his, softly and just for a second. “I wanna be your girl, Steve Harrington. You gonna let me?”

Steve’s not sure he’ll ever get used to your confidence, not that he minds it. But he can’t deny it makes his heart flip whenever you say stuff like this, so assured in what you want, especially when it’s him. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” He exhales, finally bringing his lips back to yours.

He kisses you with more confidence now, like whatever line you’ve been toeing has been crossed and he’s finally letting himself relax into you. His hands hold your waist properly, pulling your body closer to his so you can feel his chest move with each breath.

You tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss, Steve’s tongue licking into your mouth as he squeezes your side and it’s enough for you to sigh out a small moan. The sound only makes Steve kiss you harder, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and making your brain go sort of fuzzy.

When his lips make their way along your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck and onto that sensitive spot near your collarbone your breath hitches in your throat. You think Steve must feel it stuck there, because it’s almost like you can feel him smirk against your skin as he nips at the same spot before soothing over it with his tongue.

His hands roam to your thighs, skirt pulled up a little too high to be decent from you straddling him and you don’t even mind the pain that comes from when his hand passes over your bruise. “Jesus, Steve.” You almost whine, his lips still attached to that same spot and leaving a pretty purple mark there.

Steve groans against your skin when you say his name, the way you say it has his mind moving a hundred miles a minute. “Y’so pretty, y’know that?” His words are a bit muffled against your skin, though he briefly pulls away so he can look you in the eyes. “So perfect, drives me crazy.”

When one of his hands slips towards the inside of your thighs you have to blink a few times to try and keep yourself calm, the sensation so intense even with his gentle touch. It makes you rock your hips towards him, you don’t even mean to do it but the feeling of his denim dragging along your bare skin only sends you more into a haze. Your fingers press into his shoulders, little half moon indents pressing into the fabric of his shirt where you’re trying to ground yourself.

It feels like an eternity of his hands wandering, fingers ghosting closer to your core only to move away again before Steve finally asks if he can touch you, big brown eyes blinking down at you as you nod your head, forcing out a small “yes”, your voice a little raspy from trying to control your breathing.

Steve still feels like this might all be a dream, a fantasy taking place solely in his head, when he finally runs fingers along the hemline of your panties. You’re already warm, your soft skin radiating heat onto him and driving him wild. He moves his hand away for a second, just so he can shift your bodies around and lay you back on the couch. One hand next to your head, propping himself over you so he can see your face, and the other back to teasing you.

You know you’re already wet, can feel it there between your thighs as Steve trails a finger up and down over your panties eventually relenting and pulling them to the side. You don’t think the room is cold, but the air hitting your exposed cunt is enough to make you shiver a little.

He slides two of his fingers down into your slick, the light pressure on your already sensitive clit enough to make your body jolt and a small gasp falls from your lips.

“God, y’so wet already baby.” He muses, a smile curled onto the corners of his lips as he watches your face scrunch a little with each of his movements. His fingers rub circles around your clit, slow steady movements that have your eyes fluttering closed.

“Feels so good, Stevie.” Your voice is even sweeter than usual, all breathy and a little out of it and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it.

All your nerves feel like they’re on fire, every inch of your body charged with some sort of electricity as Steve keeps touching you. When he finally slips one finger inside of you, his thumb still pressing onto your clit, you’re pretty sure you can see stars. He’s gentle with you, moving in and out of you slowly and always keeping an eye on your face to make sure you’re alright, only adding a second finger once he can feel you’re ready.

His fingers curl up to hit that sweet spot inside of you, the slow drag of them in and out mixed with the lazy movements against your cliensending your head dizzy. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging along the top of his back as your heartbeat quickens and the coil inside your stomach tightens.

“Steve.” You whine, incapable of getting any other words out, your brain turned to mush from his touch.

“Y’close?” He breathes, blown pupils staring down into your own with such intensity and desire that it only pushes you closer to the edge.

“Mhm.” You hum, all you can manage as he speeds up his movements. His fingers are pumping into you a little faster now, still careful and considerate and always hitting the right spot and you can feel your body temperature rising.

“Can feel it, feels so good.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, then onto your cheek. “Y’gonna let go for me? Wanna feel you come so bad, sweetheart.” He knows he’s running his mouth, mind all fogged up from how good you feel and how much he wants you that he can’t help but let the words tumble out.

It doesn’t take much more for that coil in your stomach to snap, Steve’s words coaxing you through your high as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan out his name. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders, the blinding white of your orgasm leaving you out of it and the feel of him underneath your fingers the only thing helping to ground you.

You whine when Steve finally slides his fingers out of you, the sudden emptiness pulling the sound from your mouth. You bring your head up from where it was lay on the couch, lips meeting his where he’s still hovering over you.

“You alright?” Steve presses his forehead against yours, the breath of his words fanning against your lips.

“Yeah, Stevie.” You give him a sweet smile, mascara a little smudged under your eyes and still looking a little out of it. “C’mon.” You press a hand to his chest and give him a gentle push, just enough so you can sit yourself up. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Hearing the words come from your mouth makes Steve’s brain short circuit a little bit, just following your lead as you shuffle up and off the couch and offer him a hand to lead him to your bedroom. You turn to face him as you walk backwards into the room, knocking the light on with your other hand and coating the room in a buttery light. Your lips are little puffy from where he’d kissed, your hair mussed from the couch, and Steve thinks you’re the most perfect girl he’s ever seen.

Then you’re back on each other again, like some invisible rope is tied around you both and is being pulled tighter til you collide. The kiss is a little messy, too eager to touch each other that it’s all tongue and teeth as your hands both try to pry the others shirt off without having to pull away for too long.

Your clothes are strewn across the room, cascaded to the floor carelessly as your hands can finally roam skin on skin. Your palms on Steve’s chest guide him towards your bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress.

He sits on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across your now bare waist and you stood between his legs, gazing down at him with big eyes full of something sticky sweet and sultry. He brings his mouth to your tits, kissing the skin and sucking softly to draw out more sweet sounds from you.

“S’my turn. To make you feel good.” You have to force the words out, your breath hitching in your chest each time Steve nibbles on your skin. Your hand reaches down to run over Steve’s crotch. You can feel how much he’s already straining against the denim jeans as you go to fiddle with the button, movements slow and teasing and already enough to make him groan against your soft skin.

“Baby.” Steve grips you a little tighter, pads of his fingers pressing into you. You just look at him, a picture of innocence as you continue your deliberate movements, zipper pulled down at an agonizing pace. “Babybabybaby.” He genuinely thinks his heart might stop with how hard it’s pounding against his ribs.

When you finally un-do the zipper and start palming at his cock through his boxers, Steve tips his head back with a low moan, the pleasure already overwhelming. You use your other hand to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting to counteract how much you’re driving him absolutely crazy.

You dip your hand into his boxers, sufficient teasing done, and finally move his boxers down enough so you can pull his cock out. You try not to react when you realize just how big he is, though a small sound escapes your mouth as you start to pump your hand around the base of his shaft.

When you crouch down in the space between Steve’s legs and run your tongue up his shaft, tip already leaking from the way your hands pumping him, he thinks he might be done for. You look up at him through your lashes, doe eyed and mouth just barely touching him, placing gentle kisses on his member as one of his hands entangles itself in your hair.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, your eyes closing over as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, hand continuing its motions at the base that you can’t quite fit.

You can feel the tip of him pressing against the back of your throat, and you have to focus on your breathing to try and stop yourself choking up around him. His fingers tighten their hold on your hair as you speed up your movements, tugging a little each time you hear him sigh or moan.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He chokes out, trying to guide your head up so he can look at you properly. You move your mouth off him, lips slick with saliva and eyes blown as you look at him. “I wanna fuck you, don’t wanna cum yet.” His words are still breathy even now you’ve stopped touching him, his mind still catching up to everything that’s happening.

“Yeah?” You ask, voice a little teasing which only makes Steve want you more. You stand up so you can wiggle out of your skirt, letting it fall to the ground below you and leaving you only in your panties. Your fingers tug at the waistband of his jeans, a silent instruction for him to follow suit. He shuffles in his spot, tugging the trousers down his legs and onto the floor. “Sit back.” You nudge your head towards the headboard of your bed, and Steve doesn’t even try to argue as he moves himself to lean against your pillows.

You kneel over him, hands pulling at his boxers as you help to guide them off before doing the same with your panties. You straddle him again, cock pushing against your clit as you kiss him and rock your hips.

Your lips move down his neck, still a little wet and puffed up. Steve’s hands are resting on your thighs, head tilted to the side so you can continue your trail of kisses down towards his collarbone. “I, uh, don’t have a condom.” Steve murmurs, using probably the last bit of sanity he has to force the words out.

“I’m on the pill.” Your words are pressed into his skin, and you can feel him groan underneath you as you speak. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m okay with it.”

Steve helps you line yourself up on top of him, a small hiss coming through your teeth as you lower down onto him and feel the stretch. You have to move slowly, each time you press yourself down a little further and feel him fill you up a little more. It takes you a couple minutes til you’re sat on him fully, breathing already a little heavy as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Steve presses kisses onto your forehead, hands steady on your hips as you sit for a moment. He can feel how tight you are around him, cock twitching inside you just from the thought of you moving. “You okay?” His voice is soothing, gentle and full of care as his thumb strokes circles into your skin.

“Yeah, m’okay.” Your voice is quiet, but you eventually start to rock your hips against him once you’ve adjusted to his size. You can feel his tip nudging that soft squidgy spot with each movement and it has you moaning into his neck as your forehead stays steady in the crook of his neck.

You get a little more confident with it, properly lifting yourself up now so you can feel the full length of his shaft moving in and out of you. You lift your head up so you can look at Steve, mouth hung open a little from being so blissed out.

“Feel s’good, so full.” Steve’s hands help guide you as you bounce on top of him, your clit bumping against the base of his shaft each time brings you down again and it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“God. Wanted this so bad. Want you so bad. Want you to be my girl.” He starts pistoning his hips up into you now, following your rhythm and hitting even deeper inside you which has you whining.

“I am your girl, Stevie.” You bite your lip as Steve thrusts up into you, barely muffling the sound of your moans as you keen at his thrusts.

“Oh fuck.” He tips his head back, eyes closing as his thrusts start getting a little sloppy. You can tell he’s close, trying your best to hold onto the pace he’s set to bring him to the edge.

“Y’gonna cum for me, baby?” You muse, voice sugar coated despite the words and it has Steve’s head spinning. He brings a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit so he can rub circles in it as you both near the edge.

It’s a little messy, still learning each other's bodies and the way you move with each touch, but you can feel yourself tiptoeing along that ledge again. Steve must feel it too, the way you clench impossibly tighter around him, because he starts picking up the pace with his thrusts again.

It doesn’t take long for you to both tumble over the edge, Steve breathing out your name over and over as he brings his forehead to yours and helps you steady yourself as you come down from your high. You’re not quite ready to move yet, still too sensitive to deal with the feeling of him pulling out.

He’s peppering sweet kisses along your cheek through his deep breathing, both your chests rising and falling as you try to bring yourselves back to reality. When he finally pulls out you whine a little, the loss of him inside you has you feeling empty and the over stimulation is close to electric.

Steve lifts you off him, placing you gently on the bed so he can go to the bathroom to get something to clean the pair of you up with. He’s so soft with you, all affectionate and doting like you’re the most precious thing in the world, he thinks you might be.

“Steve?” You sit yourself up on the bed as he pulls his boxers on, your cheeks flushed pink and lip pulled between your bottom teeth.

“Yeah?”

“This mean I’m actually your girl now?” You grin at him, and you’re asking a question you already know the answer to really. But you want to hear him say it, purely for selfish reasons.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re my girl.” He leans over and kisses your forehead, and the way you look up at him has him thinking that you might always send his head a little dizzy. But he definitely doesn’t mind.

thank u so much for reading ! plz reblog if u enjoyed and message me if u have any requests/wanna gush over steve lol <333

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severepink · 1 month

Text

Ancient Adam! My Design and some thoughts I had about situations/his thoughts.

Kind of a ficlet!

Adam felt a deep sense of anger that bordered on resentment when Eve began crying for the small bird he'd managed to shoot with the tool an angel had instructed him to make.

Somehow, his wife just seemed lost, unable to cope with the situation they'd been forced into.

Hunger gnawed within them both, thirst was ever present, but she would waste precious waters on empathy for a singular source of food he'd managed to find and hunt to sustain her ever growing stomach.

New life. That is what the angel had told him. New life that he was expected to propagate and care fore on top of feeding and sustaining himself and his life.

This creature would hardly be enough for Eve, unless he found another creature... Unless he refined this tool given to him, a tool Eve despised, they would die.

The resentment was only held at bay, because he could not afford giving into his anger. A life alone, a life without her, wasn't one he would have any strength at all to live.

The smoke from the wood made him more ravenous than he thought. He'd managed to find another animal, a much, much larger animal with horns and muscle.

He'd managed to strike it perfectly, the feather's he'd added to the end of the arrow made it fly just as the bird had.

Eve was better at breaking the animals he hunted down. He enjoyed resting, after a long hunt, and watching her delicate, intricate fingers work through the flesh and sinew with the knapped rock he'd created for this purpose.

She'd come a long way. It pained him, knowing she desensitized herself, the innocent care she'd had for the animals they'd once been so like, masked and hidden as they tried to survive. While he was gone, she attempted to forage. They continued moving further and further into lands that had green, not the same kind of green as Eden had, but green enough to sustain more creatures. More water too. She'd said she watched the animals to know what could be safe, but also rubbed the flowers, bark, and roots she found on her skin just to be sure when she tasted them to find something edible.

Some of the green she found, she added to the meats he'd caught. The scent, the taste, it was all compounded. As he sat there, his mouth rested against the bow. He gnawed at it, his stomach gurgling and growling, ever persistent in its hunger, only made worse by the long and arduous task of tracking and hauling an animal back to her. The latent energy and nervousness that came from their starvation made him huff out at the same time he plucked the string of his bow. He jumped at the vibration that touched his teeth and echoed out of his mouth, his honey brown eyes widen in shock. The noise alerts Eve, who seems panicked, before he plucks experimentally again. A mischievous smile crosses his face.

The blood on his hands reminded him of the first time Eve gave birth. It reminded him of the wound's he'd experienced when being attacked by the lions that prowled after the same prey he needed. Sometimes he could not look away from the blood, how it reflected in his mind, that shining, gleaming apple that'd torn him from his perfect home. The same, glistening, shining red that ever reminded him that he would die. Every death of every creature he hauled back to Eve desensitized him more and more. It was beginning to become fun, hunting these creatures down. Rewarding to wrap his beautiful, perfect, precious family within the hides of these terrible, fascinating beasts. Eve looked beautiful, the leathers she stitched hugged her curves and incited the ordained directive within his loins. He wished to see her grow large. Her stomach, her hips, her thighs. There should be more meat on her bones, more children inside of her, more milk in her breasts. More, more, more.

That would require more of him. More of them both. To sustain more mouth's to feed, he couldn't do it just by his bow alone. He also couldn't do it when Cain cried loudly into the night. The sound often attracted predators, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Still he staid alert, bow in hand while his boy cried and his wife fretted. Eve had found a crop of small seeds that she harvested many of and ground up into a paste to layout before the fire. She'd done this a time or two, mixing it with her herbs. It tasted delicious, especially when paired with the animal fat. His stomach roared almost as loud as a lion, but he focused on looking at his wife while she rocked and tutted his son. She hummed some soft tune, she named them Lilith-Bai's, much to his distaste, anger, and dismay. He complained plenty, but she persisted, claiming it would scare off his ex-Wife and her fiendish, fallen angel Lucifer, protecting their son. A chord of spite was struck in him, as she sang to quiet their son. Lilith-Bai. He would join Eve, cradling his bow to his mouth and plucked at the string, allowing the vibrations to fall into harmony with his wife's soft singing. The sound echoed into the night and Adam lost himself to the sensation and peace, the noise of his stomach quieting under his focus on creation of sounds. After a while, he realized his son and wife had both gone quiet and a short-lived panic coursed through his heart. "Adam, don't stop playing," His wife admonished him softly from across the fire. His small boy, his tiny son, had his mother's eyes. Those eyes were focused and aware of him. "Cain stopped crying... He likes your noisy bow... It seems it's good for more than just murder," No matter how tired he was. No matter how much he anguished mentally at the loss of his original home. No matter his loss of peace. No matter the shame and embarrassment he felt. The pride that was stoked in his heart from seeing his small family, made every sacrifice worth it. They made living a life outside of paradise worth it.

#adam #hazbin hotel adam #ancient adam #eve #tw blood #hazbin hotel

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wikiangela · 17 days

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I always had you

buck & maddie rating: G words: 1k summary: Buck always tried to show his mother love on Mother's Day - however, it was rarely appreciated.

[also on Ao3]

___

The first Mother’s Day Buck remembers, however vaguely, was when he was in first grade. Their teacher had them make cards for their moms, and little Evan was so excited to have something to give his mom. He doesn’t remember what his card looked like, but he remembers feeling so proud and excited about it, and showing it to Maddie when she picked him up from school, so they could take the bus together. He remembers Maddie smiling and complimenting him, and he was so excited. And he remembers giving the card to his mother… he remembers the haunted look in her eyes, tears welling up, the forced smile – he thinks she thanked him, but the memory is blurry. He tried to hug her, but she just got up and walked away. Evan was disappointed, maybe even sad, seeing his mom be sad, wondering what he did that was so upsetting. He always seemed to upset his parents.

He remembers going to Maddie’s room, crying in her arms as she tried to comfort him – he doesn’t know what she said, it was so long ago, but he does remember the comfort she’s always brought him.

Now, years later, he’s pretty sure his mom must’ve thrown the card away, knowing that his parents didn’t bother to keep anything from his childhood anyway. He’s just a reminder of a failure and loss.

If there’s one thing to be said about Evan Buckley is that he does not give up. So, even as a kid, he tried so hard to earn his parents’ love, to get their attention – usually by being reckless and hurting himself, he learned pretty early on that it was a foolproof way to get any sort of reaction. That’s why his mom’s reaction, or lack thereof, to that first card didn’t deter him. He was just a kid, he didn’t really get it then – now, reflecting back on it, he sees everything he didn’t then, or maybe tried not to.

So every year for Mother’s Day he brought a card from school. Then, when they stopped making them at school, he kept making them at home. When he was old enough and had some of his own money, he’d buy gifts. Something small, a chocolate, a flower, sometimes he’d get Maddie to pitch in so they could get something together. She always seemed apprehensive but indulged Buck anyway. Now Buck knows she was just trying to protect him, spare him the hurt – because each time their mom barely reacted to a gift, Buck’s heart was breaking a little. And the older he got, the less she tried to pretend to like it, and she never tried very hard in the first place.

He never got any sort of appreciation or warmth, or… or love. It’s all he ever wanted from his mother, from both his parents, but they were too consumed by grief, as he knows now, too cold, haunted, not even willing to try for their remaining children, for years and years.

Buck remembers the last time he got his mom a gift and decided he’s never doing that again. It was right before Maddie moved to Boston, he could’ve been around twelve. He made another card, just because he liked doing it, liked putting in the effort – and was met with his mother asking if he’s not too old for doodling. That’s what she called it. He was twelve. He was a twelve year old boy who only wanted love from his mom, some form of affection, a reassurance that he wasn’t a nuisance they just tolerated, like he felt so often. He never got it.

So, with angry tears in his eyes, he stormed out and went to Maddie. He gave her the card, just a simple, childish drawing of flowers and a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’, and she hugged him tight and said she loved it. He learned years later that she still has it now, kept with all the postcards he sent her. Maddie’s always been more of a parent to him anyway – and it’s such a bittersweet thought, because while he appreciates her so much, she shouldn’t’ve had to be. They both needed their parents, and instead were basically left alone. At least they had each other. He always had Maddie.

He didn’t wish Margaret a happy Mother’s Day again for years after that, and no one seemed to care, no one ever mentioned it. Sometimes it felt like she just didn’t want a reminder that she was his mother. It hurt, of course it did, and that, among many other things, left a permanent scar on Evan. He’s been healing, getting better, trying to fix whatever relationship with his parents he might still have, but that is always there, in the back of his mind, in his heart.

When Maddie became a mother – and after she came back, having gotten the help she needed – Buck got her a gift again, just a mug that says ‘best mom in the world’ (a reminder, that despite her struggling and doubting herself, she already raised one kid, and will do an even better job with her own) and a handmade card. He felt silly handing it to her, like a little kid again, but he had been doing arts and crafts with Christopher anyway so he decided to make something for his sister’s first Mother’s Day as a mom. So maybe it was silly and weird, and why would a grown man draw a card for his sister? But Maddie smiled widely and hugged him, and chuckled fondly when he promised he’ll teach his niece to make those, too. He can’t wait to watch her grow up, and to watch his sister be the best mom ever. And on every Mother’s Day from now on, he’ll make sure to celebrate her, the person who actually raised him, and helped mold him into who he is today with her endless kindness and patience and love.

His mother gets a text now, since they’re trying to fix things, and Buck never quits. But Maddie gets taken out to lunch, and gets gifts, and is celebrated by all the people she loves. Because she deserves it, and so much more.

___

[also on Ao3]

#the buckley siblings #wikiangela writes #my writing #911 fic #911 abc #evan buckley #maddie buckley #buckley siblings #buck & maddie #buckley siblings fic #why isn't there more tags for buckley siblings fics smh we need to write more of just them istg lol #I love Maddie sooo much <3 #911 fanfic #idk what this is i was in my feels about the buckley siblings lol

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amournoir · 10 months

Text

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐬

pairing: sarah cameron x f!reader

count: 3.3k

warning: smut [boob play, licking, sucking, oral receiving & giving, face riding, fisting, language?]

author’s note: your girl is in a mood so you get to be in it too. 🤭 this is my very first fxf so please bear with me & let me know what you think about it, i hope you enjoy it! 😌 quick reminder that this is 21+

You had come home early that day due to swim class being canceled which was a bummer since you loved it so much, your mother often joked you were half mermaid. Your parents had said they needed to talk to you later but since no one was home, you went over to your best friend’s house to pass time. Grabbing your bike, you hopped on it and pedaled to her house, parked it right in their front yard and dashed up the porch.

You didn’t bother knocking, you just twisted the knob and invited yourself in. Her brother, Rafe, was sitting in the living room watching some show but at the sight of you, he yelled your name to his sister…per usual. You smiled and walked over to him, ruffling his hair a bit then skipped away to the stairs. You heard his chuckle before he was out of sight.

You found Sarah sitting in front of her makeup table in her bikini. She was taking off her earrings and necklace slowly. You surprised her by running in and instantly jumping onto her bed. She shrieked as if you hadn’t been doing this every single time you came over so you laughed as always.

“Fucks sake Y/N! Can’t you knock?” She asked, her hand clutching her chest.

You beamed widely, “Yeah but it’s more fun hearing you scream.”

“One of these days I’ll actually have a heart attack.”

“Ooh can you? I need to put my CPR training to good use.” You asked with a grin.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “I hate you.”

“You’re not capable of it.”

“Ugh just come help me.”

“With what?” You lifted yourself up and propped yourself on your elbows.

“My necklace is tangled with my bikini straps.”

“Hmm I thought you said you hated me.” You wondered out loud.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

She sighed and tugged on a tight strap but nothing happened. She tried again harder and this time, her necklace broke free but so did her entire top. You had been watching her the entire time but her back was to you, she wasn’t aware yet. You saw the reflection of her body on the mirror in front of her, you saw her huge boobs and nipples. You wanted to tear your eyes away but you couldn’t possibly. It took her longer than a minute to realize it and that’s when she quickly covered her chest.

You pushed yourself off the bed and walked over towards her, standing right behind. Neither of you said a word so you just offered a smile instead. She couldn’t meet your eyes, you could see how nervous and embarrassed she was but there was no need to be. Both of you were girls, both of you had breasts so nothing was weird as far as you were concerned.

“It’s okay, you know.”

She kept her eyes down, “What is?”

“You don’t need to hide it, it was an accident. No big deal.”

She sighed and looked up at you through the mirror then smiled, “You promise?”

You stuck your pinky out to her, “Pinky promise.”

One of her hands reached out and linked your pinkies together. You suddenly had the urge to see it again, this time up close. So with your eyes fixated on hers, you placed both of your hands on her shoulders then lowered them to her chest. You stopped to see her reaction but she didn’t do a thing, only watched you. You continued on until you reached her bikini top which you carefully pushed down until it fell on her lap and now she was bare chested again.

Your hands came back up and slowly kneaded her breasts, both at the same time then alternated. Your fingers traced her nipples which made her let out a very faint moan so you flicked her nipple and again, she made the same sound. You liked it. You liked hearing her moan and you liked how huge her boobs were. You kept toying with them, rolling them around, pinching and squeezing as she kept moaning. You stopped and her eyes shot open and stared at you. She turned around in her seat then stood up and fully faced you.

Biting her bottom lip, she reached out to you and you let her. You didn’t know where this was going but you knew you didn’t want to stop it. Sarah didn’t reach out to kiss you, much to your surprising dismay, she reached for your top. You stood there as she lifted it up to reveal your black lace bra cupping your slightly larger boobs. She didn’t even bother unclasping it, she just pulled your breasts out one by one then bounced them in her hands as if checking their weight.

Her eyes were fully fixed on your chest as her hands switched from soft massages to roughly squeezing you. A moan escaped you and that made her eyes flicker up to yours. Whilst holding that eye contact, she lowered herself and pressed a soft kiss between your boobs then on top of each one. You threw your head back so she kissed them again and again until she was licking them. You slowly pulled her up and held her hands as you led her to the bed where you laid down on your back and pulled her on top.

With a smile, she tucked your hair behind your ear then leaned down and kissed your cheek. Your neck was next then her lips trailed back down to your boobs. She started with a few kitten-like licks then moved to sucking. You closed your eyes and relished the experience as your hands found their way to her hair where you tugged her head up. She lifted her head and looked at you then down at your lips, before you knew it, her lips were on yours. Your tongues explored each other, she was fully sucking you. You placed a hand on the back of her head to pull her closer and she placed hers on your neck which turned you the fuck on.

Your make out session was hot and heavy in every which way, from grinding to sucking, you both couldn’t stop. Once it did end, the dry humping began. Sarah was on top slowly grinding her hips against yours to find some sort of release. You had placed your hands on her ass, pushing the bikini bottom between her cheeks. Your hands squeezed and dug into her ass, making her grind harder. Momentarily you stopped her and lifted your hips, removing your shorts and underwear in one go.

Sarah stared at your bare cunt in awe, fully mesmerized. You smiled and ran your fingers between your folds, separating them as you gathered the wetness. You lifted your soaked fingers in front of her face and she opened her mouth instantly, her lips wrapping around you. She sucked and licked your fingers clean, even between the crevices. Such a hot dirty girl, you thought to yourself. You suddenly had a brilliant idea.

“Can I taste you too?”

“Only if I get to go down on you too.” She said with a smile.

“Turn around and sit on my face.”

Her eyes grew wide, “Wait I can ride you?”

“Yeah, is it okay?”

“I’ve always wanted to see you naked so this is a dream Y/N!” She exclaimed and immediately got herself into position.

Sarah spread your legs apart for her personal viewing then kissed your inner thighs. Her ass was above your head, careful not to fall on you. Her fingers wandered around your outer area then inched their way closer until she reached your cunt. Without warning, she inserted two fingers inside your pussy very slowly then leaned down forward.

She looked back to you and said, “You're so wet and pink.”

You moaned in response instead and this made her wonder out loud, “How many fingers do you think I can fit?”

“I don’t know, four?” You guessed.

“Four?! Such a slut but I like it, let’s try.” So she did.

Her lips kissed your cunt then she lowered her head even closer and licked your pussy. Your body naturally jolted and you moaned. Once she knew what made you react, she would repeat the action again and again. Her licks turned to full on sucking and her fingers pushed in and out, each time adding a new one. Four fingers in and you still wanted more. Out of nowhere, she spit on your pussy and pushed the saliva inside.

Gone were your soft moans, now you were audibly groaning and rocking your hips to increase your release. Thank goodness everyone was out of the house. Her little sister was at some camp, her stepmom was on the mainland shopping all day, her dad was at his workplace, and you had heard her brother leaving minutes after you got there with his club friends. So you could moan as loud as you’d like, no one was around and the thought of that turned you on even more.

You weren’t the only one turned on. Your moans and groans had gotten to Sarah so much that she was quite literally dripping. You felt it once but didn’t realize it until now, you thought it was sweat from you. Turns out, she had been getting off at the sight of you. To prove your theory, you reached one hand up to slide her bikini bottom aside and revealed her soaking cunt. Sarah gasped and slightly jumped at the contact of cold air. Your other hand came up to gather her wetness on your fingers and sucked it. Salty and smooth, you mentally concurred.

“You get off by watching me Sarah?” You asked an obvious question but you just wanted her answer.

“Who wouldn’t? My entire fist is in your squishy soft pussy and yet you’re still wet.” She replied.

“You’re fisting me??” You hadn’t even noticed.

“You’re so hot that way baby.” She cooed.

“Fuck me deeper with your hand babe, I wanna cum.” I was so ready to beg.

“Mmm you’re such a pretty girl Y/N.” She praises, “If only you could see how slutty you look with a fist in you. I’ll make you cum baby.”

The thought was sending you to places further than you’d imagined. Sarah, your childhood best friend was naked on top of you with her ass in your face and her hand— fist, in your pussy. You now wanted to see it. A picture, video, anything to relive this after it was done. But it wasn’t, not yet because you hadn’t started.

As your friend stuck her fist deeper into you and pushed in and out whilst sucking your clit, you lowered her ass closer to your face. Her cunt was now on your lips, you licked once then twice, each time Sarah moaned and pushed down. You could tell she wanted to ride your face and you wanted her to but not until you were fully satisfied. You used your fingers to spread her folds open then spit up inside and used your middle finger to push it in. You moved your head around to get a more comfortable position then spread your legs further apart as she kept going.

Both of you were now eating each other out. You slapped her ass and motorboated her pussy, your tongue deep inside. This went on for a few minutes but you weren’t getting what you wanted so with a smirk, you slapped her cunt with your free hand. It hit you before you even realized it, she had squirted into your mouth which dripped down your chin. Her body convulsed as she placed her free hand onto the bed for support. She rocked her hips harshly against your mouth.

“I want you to eat it all.” She said as she grinded harder on your face.

“Yes Sarah, please give it to me.”

She fully sat on your face then lifted herself up then sat down again. “Do you like that Y/N? Do you like me suffocating you?”

“Hmmmph.” Your reply was muffled between her legs.

“Can’t hear you. Speak louder or I’ll stop.” She lifted her hips up again.

“Fuck my face baby, please use it.” You panted and waited for her.

“Mm I plan on it. Now stick out your tongue, I want to fuck it.”

You did as told almost immediately, you were very eager to please her. Sarah lowered herself on your tongue and got off then let it impose her again. She did this over and over, your tongue was being used as a dick for her. She bounced on it slowly then rolled her hips. Her hand was still inside you so every movement was turning you on again. You moaned wantonly against her pussy as she impaled herself continuously. Her head was thrown back, facing the ceiling, with eyes closed as she rode you.

Her legs tightened against your head and you could tell she was close. She paused for a moment and threw her ass back into your face several times before coming on your tongue. Your lips widen to suck all of it in your mouth and down your throat. It was hot, salty, and smooth. She got off your face and rested on your abdomen, her wetness residue left on your boobs.

She let out a sigh and looked back at you, “You’re such a good girl baby. Did you like mommy’s cum?”

You nodded your head with a smile. “Mommy’s cum was a lot. I even made you squirt.”

“It’s your turn now. I want you on all fours.”

She removed her fist from inside you and you groaned at the feeling. Your pussy walls tightly held onto her fingers and this made her chuckle so instead she spit down on your cunt to loosen you up. With less effort, her hand was out and she rolled off of you. You could barely get up but the thought of being eaten from behind was enough motivation. You rolled to the side then lifted yourself up slowly, pulled your legs forward and used your hands to stabilize yourself. There you were, your boobs still in their bra but your underwear long forgotten on the floor somewhere.

You looked back at Sarah and slightly wiggled your hips as you parted your legs. She grinned and came closer to you, her hands reached up to your bra and unclasped it, tossing it to join the mess on the floor. Your boobs immediately bounced around and this caught her eye. She reached down and pinched them, pulling them as if to milk them. You tossed your head back and moaned, your pussy clenching on thin air.

“Fuck if I knew they were this big, I’d have done all this sooner.” She said, still squeezing and pulling on them.

“You’ve thought of me?”

“Hell yes. The amount of times I’ve wanted your boobs to accidentally fall out of your bikini or walk in on you after showering is ridiculous.”

“Well now you can have me anytime.”

“Anytime? Even in front of the guys?”

“Sarah! We can’t do this in front of them.”

“Why not? I want them to hear your pretty moans and see what a good girl you are when you’re fisted.”

“Only if they can see you squirting down my throat. That was so hot by the way.”

“Can I be honest Y/N?” Sarah asks, lowering her voice a little.

“Yeah of course.”

“I’ve actually never done any of this before, I just saw it in some videos and I immediately thought of you. I was afraid you’d think I’m weird or something.”

“Sarah Cameron, your kinky side is the hottest thing ever. I’ve never done this before either but I’m glad we’re each other’s firsts.”

“Can I try another first?” She bites her lip as she looks at you.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“I want to eat you out on all fours.”

You playfully shake your ass in front of her and say, “Bon appetit.”

She grins and gets on all fours as well then moves closer to you. Once she has your ass in her view, she leans forward and slaps it softly then again harder. She lowers her head and licks from your pussy entrance to your asshole, this causes you to moan. She repeats it again and you push your ass back into her face, with both hands she grabs it firmly and sucks hard. She’s shaking her face around your pussy, her tongue deeply exploring your insides. You moan even louder, you instinctively arch your back so that you’re face down and ass up.

The sounds coming from behind you make it sound like she’s actually eating. It’s wet and loud and it fully turns you on. You reach your hand back and feel her head then push her further into you. Sarah moans against your cunt and picks up the pace, her sucking becomes much harsher, you can feel her teeth lightly scraping you. You jumped forward, it’s all becoming too much but she follows you. She lifts her head up to take a breath then dives back in again, the cold air momentarily hits you and your pussy clenches. She spits into your asshole then lets it drip to your pussy, she does it again but the time spreads your cheeks wide so the saliva enters inside instead.

You groan loudly, shaking your ass to get her attention back to your pussy. She notices this and sticks her tongue out then uses it to prod into your pink squishy hole, she tongue fucks you as you did her. One of her hands spreads your pussy wide open for her and the other comes down to pinch your nipples. You begin to come, she can feel the few drops on her tongue but she knows you’re not there yet. So she lifts her body up and uses her boobs to rub against your clit. With her tongue back inside your pussy, fingers pulling on your boobs, and her nipple grinding on your clit, you’re left coming in her face. You shake with so much force but she doesn’t let go on your ass, if anything she sinks her face further inside, sucking every last drop and swallowing.

“Your pussy is so tasty baby. And you said I can have it whenever?”

Your eyes are closed as you keep panting, unable to talk, you just nod.

She tuts and slaps your cunt, “I need to hear you.”

You jolt forward and quickly reply, “Yes, have me whenever.”

“Sit up, I want you to suck mommy’s boobs again.”

You do as told even if it does take you a minute then you look at her. “So we’re doing the whole mommy thing?”

“Yeah, I like it.” She sits on the bed with her legs open wide and pats for you to sit in front.

“Not surprised you have a mommy kink.” You reply with a smirk then sit, your cunts are so close to each other, you can actually feel the heat.

“You feel that too?”

“Yeah, can we?”

Sarah smiles and says, “Another day, I’ll ride your pussy until we cum on each other.”

“Fuck that sound so good.” Your hands reach for her boobs and you softly massage them.

“Yeah? You want mommy to fuck your slutty pussy? You want our pussy lips together baby?”

You nod before you answer, “Yes mommy, I want them to make noise and slide.”

“Okay but now, be a good girl and suck my boobs. It’s feeding time.” Sarah places her nipple on your lip. You open your mouth and suck it in slowly, closing your eyes and your other hand gently slaps around her other boob. You were happy and you couldn’t wait for more. You’d be each other’s firsts for everything.

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#aurora.r fics #sarah x y/n #sarah cameron smut #sarah cameron #obx #outer banks #outer banks smut #jj maybank #rafe cameron #kiara carrera #john b routledge

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