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y2kuromi · 2 months

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⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !

contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.

his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.

there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.

his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory

“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.

“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.

classic gojo-sensei.

“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.

gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”

yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation

"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"

"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”

“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together

“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.

“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"

"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"

"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"

"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"

"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.

"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.

"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"

"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"

you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.

"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"

"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.

"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"

"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"

"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"

"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"

"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”

"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”

“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully

“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”

you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end

"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"

"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you

“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you

"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”

“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space

“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”

“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”

“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”

“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”

he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.

"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer

"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions

“i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"

"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"

it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down

"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved

you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.

he couldn’t help but feel out of place.

there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.

the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.

the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.

he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly

he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )

“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder

“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”

yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )

“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.

he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.

“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”

yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind

“it smells really good mrs. gojo” yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.

“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”

“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”

“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”

no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently

“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be

“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”

yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.

“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”

you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted

growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him

“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”

“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head

“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”

you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.

“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”

“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually

“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”

“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger

“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”

“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.

“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”

“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”

“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”

“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”

“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”

“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.

he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles

“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”

“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”

“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”

satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor

“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”

your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes

“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”

you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.

“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”

“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”

“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”

“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”

“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”

he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.

“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.

“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”

“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”

“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.

satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself

it would be you before everything. it was you before everything

“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory

they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again

“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.

“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”

“like we did in our first year”

satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone

his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.

“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.

“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.

“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”

“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”

“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”

“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him

“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”

“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed

satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin

your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.

here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.

#𓂃˖ letters from: satoru #❛ 五条悟 ❜#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #⭑ : js ‘toru gave me js george vibes #i love gojo too much pls sedate me <3

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champagnefountains · 3 months

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Oh my goodness your Lucifer fic is SO cute! You write him very well! (Exited for possible pt 2) I was wondering since your requests are open if you'd be willing to write something for either Lucifer or Alastor (or possibly both) with a short shy/anxious reader? Super fluffy plz if possible and you're interested!

Hi Anon! Thanks so much for your submission. I hope you'll enjoy what I came up with! I had fun with this one (it got me giggling and kicking my feet or something...)

Word count: 1.2k words. Kinda got carried away, my bad. Genre: (Tooth-rotting) Fluff. Established relationship. Warning: None.

LUCIFER MAGNE with a shy and short S/O:

Lucifer is quite short himself in comparison to a few demons. But, you? Being shorter than him? God, he’ll think you’re the cutest thing ever (plus, it was a massive ego boost on his part). And your timid nature only adds onto it.

Expect him to be very touchy with you. There isn’t a second moment where he isn’t clinging onto or hugging you. Out in the public or even at the hotel, his arm would somehow always find its way wrapped around your shoulders or waist. He just wants to keep you close to him as much as possible, since you just seem to fit so snug and well in his arms.

Lucifer loves it so much when you get all shy and flustered around him. His pride just flourishes whenever your face bursts into flames, especially knowing that it was because of him that you’re acting this way. He’ll tease you about it, but not too much because he cares for your poor heart.

He also knows his million-dollar smile does wonders, so he’ll use it to his advantage. He’ll strike a smile or smirk at you out of nowhere when you would meet eyes, and he’ll revel in the way you’d melt so easily under his gaze. Though, it would be the same for him – his heart would burst with that warm-fuzzy feeling whenever you would send one of your precious smiles his way. This man is smitten and will worship you and the floor you walk on.

Is also super, super supportive of you whenever you get anxious – will do anything in his will to help distract you or alleviate any of your worries, whether it be just holding your hand, talking some nonsense to fill in the silence, or even flying you around to get some fresh air. He'll probably even have a duck-shaped stress ball for you to use whenever you get a bit fidgety.

Additional things I think Lucifer would do: he would give you a lot of forehead/head kisses; HE WOULD TOTALLY SET YOU DOWN ON A COUNTERTOP OR HIS DESK AND KISS YOU FR, OR HE'LL DO SO WHILST CARRY YOU WITH YOUR LEGS STRADDLING HIS WAIST I need self-control; he will shamelessly rant about how adorable you are in front of the others, even if they're all sick of it, 'cause he's just so proud to be your partner!

Lucifer found himself silently admiring you while you were all snuggled up against his chest. After another successful hard day's work, you spent the remainder of the night watching a couple movies together at the hotel’s lounge area.

Noticing a pair of eyes on your figure, you crane your neck up and with a small tilt of your head, you stare back at him in question.

The King suddenly felt his chest swell with so much love and affection for you. You didn’t even know how adorable you looked in his arms right now. Without warning, Lucifer dipped down and pressed his lips against yours, swallowing the surprised yelp that escaped your lips.

As you parted ways, Lucifer grinned widely as your cheeks noticeably began to redden. “W-What was that for?” You pouted.

“Sorry angel, but I just couldn't help it! You looked too cute – I couldn’t not kiss you then.” He stated matter-of-factly. He then leaned once again to press multiple pecks across your face – one on your forehead, on both your cheeks and another lingering one on your lips.

The out-of-the-blue affection had you swiftly burying your face into his chest, a poor attempt made to hide your embarrassment. You could only grumble in defeat as you felt the way his chest shook as he chuckled aloud, evidently amused by your flustered state.

ALASTOR with a short and shy S/O:

Not gonna lie, this man will be so annoying but in an endearing way.

Alastor would tease you endlessly about your height, since the difference would be quite significant – it usually consists of him resting an elbow or his arms on the crown of your head, leaning onto you like you were some sort of personal arm-rest. He personally finds it quite amusing, like a joke that never gets tired.

Since he isn’t really a huge fan of PDA, he would often give you head-pats. It’s a small, simple gesture but it’s his way of showing affection out in public. He would also often have your arms looped around one of his own whenever you two would walk together, side by side.

Behind closed doors, I can see him as the type to pull you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest whilst he reads the newspaper or a book in bed. He would then use your head or shoulders to rest his chin on, to peer over you. Sometimes he would even play with your hair, looping them around his fingers whilst he absent-mindedly hums a sweet, little tune. Again, a simple gesture but also very intimate. I'm literally melting just thinking about it. I feel like he would do something similar like this whenever you get anxious – if it helps, he would also make you some tea on the side, and even let you play with his hands/fingers.

Being the huge tease he is, Alastor just loves how shy you get around him. He's the type to say things like: "Dear, do you have a fever? You look a little flushed," or "My, my, your face may be redder than my suit!" just to see you get riled up even more. But if another demon were to talk smack about how shy you were, you will not see them live another day. That's a guarantee.

Additional things I think Alastor would do: he and/or his shadows would help you grab things from high places or would lift you up by the waist for you to grab them; out of pure instinct, he will for sure become extra protective of you; would be the big-spoon in most cases; would tease you by retracting himself using his height whenever you would lean in for a kiss.

Alastor was quick to pick up on a small habit of yours very early on – how you would always hide your smile behind your hands. When he brought it up one day, you sheepishly told him that you were insecure about your smile, which perplexed the deer-demon.

Just like now, Alastor couldn’t help but raise a brow as you hid your grin behind your palm whilst you chuckled at one of his corny jokes. “Now, now, this won’t do, my dear!” He clicks his tongue, waving a disapproving finger at you, “why must you always hide that gorgeous smile of yours?”

A blush suddenly breaks out across your cheeks. You unconsciously found yourself looking down, embarrassed by the flattering remark, only for his finger to guide you back up by your chin. He then leans in but stops only centimetres away, his face dangerously close to yours.

Alastor’s grin only grew wider, seeing how helpless and small you looked – eyes widened like a deer in headlights, and yet filled with anticipation. You looked so, so nervous. And yet, it was so endearing that he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms.

“Now, does the ground look much more entertaining than I, dear? I don’t think it can make you smile the way I do.” He teases, his voice intentionally dropping an octave deeper. God, he was going to be the death of you.

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #alastor #hazbin hotel

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jarofstyles · 5 months

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Jarofstyles Fic Rec 2023 🪽

hello my loves! Here is our updated fic rec.

[some may be repeats of last year because we reread them!]

Also check out our fic rec account, @jarofstylesrecs for some we most definitely missed!

There are so many I want to put on here and I’ll update it again, but here we are! Let me know of any fics you recommend 🩷

WATTPAD-

Bambi- vanillasoy (or @queenofgraveyards here) (ceo soft H, in my top 5)

Flower- vanillasoy (bodyguard/grumpy h x sunshine ofc)

Devil’s Due- petite_cerise (classic dark!H)

Adonis- temptress_ (dark!H and fierce OFC)

Valhalla- temptress_ (Viking!H)

Baby Blue- theasstour (artist!H and model y/n)

Lucky Penny- alisonfelix (teacher h, soft, ofc finding herself)

Informed Consent- alisonfelix (college romance, absolutely tooth rotting fluff I’m obsessed)

One Night Stand- alisonfelix (short story, pregnancy one night stand plot. A lil angsty but cute)

Ladybug- _screamingcolour (50’s au, super cute)

Pirouette- _screamingcolour (ballerina ofc, so fucking cute it hurts)

Flower Girl- sushirrrry (idk how to describe but chef’s kiss)

Celestial- sushirrrry (WIP, it hurts but it feels good, nerdy h who loves the stars)

Wildflowers- latenightgab (assholeish tattoorry, single dad)

Jezebel- latenightgab (sugar daddy ceo x dancer teacher)

Office Hours- latenightgab (lawyer and professor H x student)

Pink Slip- stillhurtingstyles (plus size! Assistant y/n x boss h)

Always - styleslegend (my OG favorite fic, nerdy h x popular y/n, old but good)

A Lifetime With You- anenglishbird (supernatural au, witchy, adore it)

Inclination- peanutboyfriend (sexuality discovery, so good)

Aerial- peanutboyfriend (aerialist h and ofc, 60’s set, another top 10 fic)

1789- everlasts (period piece, just read it. French Revolution)

Breaking The Ice- sarbearfive (hockey!H)

Sail My Ridges- @1800titz (new but soooo fucking good. Piraterry, writing is phenomenal as usual)

The Devil is a Gentleman- @1800titz (again, writing is incredible. Kink heavy, lovely, bdsm club, masks, real estate agent H- just please read it)

Sinners Place- @shroombloomm (so fucking good, preistrry, all the good drama, 10/10)

Do I Wanna Know? - @eatyourhoneyh (trust me, stripper ofc. Obsessed)

Boston- witchysunflower (hockey h, cheating plot)

Haste- htownrry (pregnancy plot but unconventional, racer h, very good)

TUMBLR-

Prosecco- @moonchildstyles (older!H)

Gravity- @moonchildstyles (camboyrry)

Aster- @moonchildstyles (tattoorry grumpy sunshine)

Èlan- @moonchildstyles (bodyguardrry that pulled my heart strings)

firemanrry- @jawllines (softest H, made of sugar and the little puppy :( )

Ballerinarry- @jawllines (enemies to lovers, obsessed)

Young American- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (tattoo artists h and y/n, so well written)

Wolves- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (Wolfrry!!!)

A Good Fit- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (trust me, read)

LVRS CLUB- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (sex club slay)

Best Friend’s Dadrry- @gurugirl (exactly what it says. So good)

The Arrangement- @gurugirl (sugar daddy h!)

The Ex- @gurugirl (trusf me again)

The whole Knockout series- @freedomfireflies (yall don’t even know how feral this series makes me…)

404- @freedomfireflies (again obsessed, nerdy enemies chefs kiss)

Silk and Rope- @cupid-styles (dom/sub dynamic, so soft)

Only Angel- @cupid-styles (tattorry, experienced h, shy y/n)

Complicated Freak- @lukesaprince (best friends Dadrry is a weakness)

Rich- @lukesaprince (older! H, age gap,)

Mutually Beneficial - @cherryjuiceblues (Dom/sub dynamics, perfection!)

Could You Live With Just a Taste- @frioamor (Dom/sub, smut is mind blowing)

Love’s Divine- @atlafan (nanny!h omg)

Peaches & Cream- @atlafan (anything they write tbh)

You’re Someone I Just Want Around- @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy & @sunflowervolvimp3 (I put this every year bc I reread it every single year. I’m obsessed. My Roman Empire. I’ve never heard ‘like real people do’ the same since.)

Please You- @adorebeaa (again just trust me)?

Wolfrry- @adorebeaa (please I’m obsessed w this and the smut is incredible)

The Dark King- @shroombloomm (so so so so so good, dark obviously but I love it)

Achilles Heel- @angelisverba (I’m obsessed w their writing and plugrry but this smut is mind blowing)

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pierregazly · 21 days

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shampoo suds ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x f!reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mention of reader having hair, bathing together [934 words]

request: can I request oscar with the gentle prompt "let me wash your hair." 💗💗

note: literally saw this and had to finish it immediately, oops :) this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was a different type of intimacy, having Oscar’s chest against your back while the water sloshed around you. His head was tilted and pressed against the wall behind him, while his one arm wrapped around your front as you nuzzled back into him.

The water filled to the bathtub brim surrounding the two of you was warm and comforting. An almost ideal end to an already too-long of a week. Too-long of a month, really. Oscar had been flying all around the world, leaving you to your own work and responsibilities.

You knew he had been sore after the race in Shanghai, the jolt to his body from the accident causing a persistent, irritating pain to radiate through his body. The Australian had complained more than once about how sore his back was, which made it even easier to convince him a hot bath was necessary almost the moment he got through the door Monday evening.

Pulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of Oscar’s thumb gently tracing circles against your ribcage, you turned your neck to look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“This is nice. Feel like we haven’t done this in a long time. We should do this more,” he murmured, subsequently pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

Nodding your head in agreement, your own hand gently traced the age-old scars on his arm as he continued to gently pepper your shoulder and head with kisses.

Oscar was always more affectionate after a long time apart, eager to show you how much he missed you, loved you, and wished you were with him every second. You never complained about it, always grateful to receive all the affectionate gestures he provided. Even if it meant pruning up in a bathtub after laying in it for an hour.

“Osc, we gotta get out soon. I have to wash my hair before we go to sleep,” you said.

You felt the groan before you heard it, the sound bubbling up and out of Oscar’s chest.

“Let’s just stay in the bath. Let me wash your hair,” he emphasized his words by dribbling a bit of bath water over your head, a laugh falling from your lips at his actions.

Patting his knee, you shook your head, the droplets of water hitting Oscar in the face. “The bath water’s too dirty to wash my hair in, it won’t take me long to shower.”

Oscar was pressing down on the drain plug before you had a moment to react, the water beginning to drain out of the tub as you looked back at him in confusion.

“I guess we’re showering together, too. So needy today, baby.”

Scoffing at his words, you playfully slapped at his chest before he gestured for you to stand up, following your movements just a second later. The cold air hit your skin, causing a shiver to run through your body. Oscar was quick to turn the shower knob to ‘on’.

The warm water hit your back a second later, a sigh leaving your lips at the contact against your skin. Tipping your head back, you let the water trickle down your hair and skin.

Pressing his hands into your scalp, Oscar begin to soothingly run his hands through your hair, making sure the water had dampened all the strands.

“Osc, you really don’t have to. You’re still sore, go lay down. This won’t take me long,” you said. The man in question shushed you, before continuing his ministrations.

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo from around you, Oscar poured an excessive amount into his hands, a sheepish smile adorning his face as you looked at him in exasperation. He began to gently layer it into your hair, suds begin to form as his fingertips massaged your scalp.

You couldn’t contain the soft sighs that were leaving your lips. The feeling of Oscar running his hands through your hair, scratching at the roots, and massaging your head causing shivers to wrack through your body.

He tilted your head back again, allowing the spray of the shower to wash away the suds of shampoo. Oscar ran his fingers tenderly through the strands, scrubbing gently at your scalp again to try and get all the soap out.

Oscar’s face was right in front of you, his eyes scrunched and lips pursued as he focused on his task at hand.

Before you could stop yourself, you were inching forward to press your lips against his. Reciprocating, Oscar used his hands that were already in your hair to pull you closer to him, your bodies pressing against one another’s.

A soft sigh fell from your lips as your own hands glided up his muscled back, pressing the tips of your fingers into spots he had mentioned were aching earlier in the day. It prompted a groan to fall from his lips, his body pushing back into your hands.

Pulling away from him, you grinned as you moved your hand up and down his back.

“Let me just condition my hair, and then I’ll give you a full back massage. How does that sound, hm?”

Eagerly nodding his head, Oscar went to grab the conditioner from around you, which you easily snatched out of his hand while shaking your head at him.

“Absolutely not. This is like gold, I love you… but I don’t trust you to not pour half the bottle on my head.”

All the Australian did was laugh at your reaction, his eyes practically sparkling as he smiled at you; the adoration so prominent on his face.

i hope y’all loved this!! i had such a blast writing it 🫶🏻 i’m thinking of creating a taglist (again), so if you’re interested let me know!!

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #oscar piastri blurb #follower celebration #pierregazly’s 1.5k celebration #f1

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itneverendshere · 2 months

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erase all of my memories without you - rafe cameron.

part 2 of can't remember anything before you.

pairing: rafe cameron x thornton!reader; brother's best friend! trope or best friend's sister! trope lmao; fem!reader.

word count: a lot??

WARNINGS: boyfriend!rafe <3; rafe being the biggest lover boy; tooth-rotting fluff if im being honest; topper's a dick but just for a sec; rafe is down bad; so cute.

“rafe, i told you, no hickeys!”

“can you blame me?” he has that mischievous gleam in his eyes, like he's testing just how far he can push your boundaries. “you’re just so pretty, baby.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain a serious tone despite the playful grin pulling at your lips. “shut up.”

being with rafe cameron was not on your yearly plans, but every single day, you thank your lucky stars for finally doing something right. he's a total game-changer, your personal slice of heaven.

who would have thought the universe had that kind of surprise up its sleeve?

he leans in closer, breath warm against your ear, arms wrapped securely around your waist, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "i should visit more often if that’s how you’re going to greet me each time.”

you can't help but lean back into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness.

"you should." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers gently tracing circles on his hand. “wouldn't mind that at all."

you’d been together ever since that fateful night in your garden, months ago.

sneaking around had its thrills, especially with your brother always lurking nearby, but nothing compared to the challenge of a long-distance relationship. late-night calls, stolen moments of intimacy over video chats, and endless messages are your lifelines.

so when rafe finally stepped through the door of your new york apartment last night, after weeks apart, it was no surprise that you couldn't help but pounce on him, eager to make up for lost time. his slutty grey sweatpants, his choice of comfortable for a flight, were imprinted into your brain.

“so, so pretty." he murmurs, lips brushing against your earlobe, “y'know i can't resist leaving my mark on you."

you playfully swat at him, a grin spreading across your face despite your half-hearted protest, “topper would kill you."

rafe snorts, the sound traveling through your body as he presses a kiss to your temple, “he can try.”

you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of keeping your relationship with rafe under wraps. it’s not like you don’t want to make it official, god, you do. but you’ve spent the last four months having him all to yourself, you don’t want other people to butt in and ruin everything with their unsolicited opinions.

being with him feels right. he's your rock, your constant in a world that's always changing.

“can we go back to bed now?” rafe’s warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks, his voice laced with a hint of grogginess, sleep still clouding his brain, “it’s fucking freezing.”

you chuckle quietly at his sleepy request, the sound mixing with the gentle hum of the heater as it struggles to combat the winter chill.

“course." you murmur, unwrapping yourself from his arms to press a tender kiss to his cheek, "let's get you warmed up."

his fingers don’t let you move an inch away, circling your wrist to pull you closer against his chest again, big cheeky smile on his face as he looks down at you. “you gonna warm me up, peach?”

"i might." you reply with a sly smirk, trailing a finger down his shirtless chest. "but you might have to work for it a little."

rafe's eyes widen with mock surprise. "is that so?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he pulls you closer. “well, lucky for you, i’m up for a challenge."

you’d never felt butterflies in your tummy until you started dating this man. he has you wrapped around his fingers, and you don’t want out. it physically hurts you to even think about a time when you didn’t have rafe like this.

you can't imagine being anywhere else but here, wrapped in his embrace.

with a playful giggle, you give him a knowing look. "’m counting on it," you murmur, as you pull him closer. you stand on your barefoot tiptoes, arms lacing around his neck. “really missed you.”

rafe's arms tighten around you as he pulls you impossibly close, his warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket. his gaze softens, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter even faster.

“missed you too, more than you know." he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in to press a docile kiss to your lips.

“always thinking about my girl.”

as his lips meet yours, a wave of warmth washes over you, melting away any lingering traces of cold or distance. fuck, you’re in love with him and if he keeps kissing you like this, you might confess earlier. you’re way in over your head.

you sigh contentedly against his lips, savoring the feeling of being so close to him after being apart for so long. his touch, his scent, his presence—all of it feels like home to you. breaking the kiss reluctantly, you rest your forehead against his.

“stop staring at me like that peach.” he scolds, but there’s no bite to his tone as his fingertips brush your cheek lightly. “gonna end up buying this fucking building if you keep that up.”

you smile again, that’s all you seem to do around him anyway, as his beautiful eyes sweep up from your lips to meet your own. “rafe cameron living in new york? i’d pay to see that.”

rafe chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and sending pleasant vibrations through your body. his fingers trace lazy patterns along your cheek, his touch sweet and affectionate.

“you'd pay to see it, huh?" he teases, a playful glint in his face as he leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your skin. “’m that good of an investment?”

you can't help but laugh at his playful banter, shaking your head. you love that you get to see this side of him, how soft he is with you, only you.

“you’re alright cameron.”

"jus’ alright?" he feigns offense, his hand moving to rest over his heart in an exaggerated manner. "take it back.”

“nop.”

rafe lets out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be wounded. "no?”

you can't help but giggle at his theatrics, finding it endearing how he always manages to lighten the mood.

"you big baby." you tease, poking him playfully in the side.

“oh, i’ll show you big.”

before you can even wrap your brain around his innuendo, you’re being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. he does it so effortlessly you almost swoon.

you squeal in surprise, the sudden movement catching you off guard. "rafe, what the fuck?" you laugh, squirming slightly as he carries you effortlessly across the room. “what are you doing—hey!”

his palm smacks against one of your cheeks, covered by nothing except a pair of his ralph lauren boxers. “taking you to bed, where you belong.”

you play along, pretending to protest even as you secretly enjoy the attention.

"and what if i don't want to go to bed?" you retort, trying to sound defiant.

rafe stops in his tracks, his grip tightening around your legs. "oh, trust me, peach," he says, his tone turning serious for a moment, "you definitely want to go to bed."

“hmm, not sure.”

“it’s okay brat, you’ll be sure soon enough." he teases, deep voice making you want to do the most immoral things on every single surface of your apartment.

a repeat of last night.

you play along, feigning uncertainty as he deposits you gently onto the queen-sized bed, his stare burning with desire as he hovers over you, thick arms caging you in. one of your hands wraps around his bicep, nails grazing the skin as you glance up at him, head tilted to the side.

rafe’s eyes instantly move to your neck as your hair slips behind, tongue poking out to wet his lips, "i don't know, baby, might have to convince me."

he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "consider it my pleasure." he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly gentle kiss.

you feel a shiver run down your back as rafe's lips meet yours, his kiss sending a surge of electricity through your body. you’ll never get used to this. his touch is both tender and assertive, his lips moving against yours with a practiced finesse that leaves you breathless.

it's like every nerve in your being wakes up, responding eagerly to his touch.

as he deepens the kiss, his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips with a possessive urgency, with a sense of familiarity as if committing every curve to memory. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before delving into your mouth in a hungry, desperate kiss. you melt against him, surrendering.

you feel a surge of heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, your breath catching in your throat as he explores you with a hunger that leaves you trembling.

“better than alright?” he mumbles against your lips and you find yourself unable to resist the pull of his touch, arching against him in silent invitation. his lips trail a path of fire along your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, “lost your voice, huh?”

he’s so addicted to sucking harshly on your skin, nibbling it playfully to drag out and elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth. a melodic moan escapes your parted lips.

“you’re such an asshole.”

“there she is.” rafe's husky chuckle fills the air, sending pleasant vibrations through your body as he continues to pepper kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fiery trail of craving in its wake. “’m your asshole though.”

“not if you keep teasing.”

his lips pause their trail, hovering just above your skin as he looks up at you, one of his brows raised, "teasing?”

before you can protest his lips are on yours again, hungry and demanding. his hands roam over your body with a newfound urgency, tracing every corner and eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. he has the audacity to hush you when he pins you harder with his hips, clothed cock rubbing perfectly against you.

your nails can’t help but dig into his shoulders, pulling at the skin. the way he's moving against you makes you feel like getting on your knees and letting him do whatever he wants to you, for however long he wishes to.

but then, your stupid intercom is buzzing.

you both freeze, caught in the throes of passion interrupted. rafe drops his head on your shoulder, groaning.

"seriously?" he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration as he rolls off you, giving you space to sit up.

“it’s probably breakfast.” you’re smoothing out your rumpled clothes— if you can call an oversized tee and boxers an outfit.

rafe lets out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back onto the bed, “’m so hard it hurts.” he whines, throwing an arm over his face.

“you’ll be fine.”

“can’t even see you right now, might cum in my sweats.” he mutters, his voice muffled by the fabric of your pillows.

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head at his melodramatic response.

"you're ridiculous." you tease, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

rafe peeks out from under his arm, giving you a glare, his bottom lip jutting out in a comically exaggerated pout. “and you're making me harder, stop touching me and go get the door.”

you lean in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, feet planted on the ground as you attempt to get up, but he’s quick to pull you down again. his beefy arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back on top of him.

“rafe.”

“gimme a kiss before you go.”

“though you didn’t want me to touch you.” you tease, leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips. it's meant to be quick, just a peck, but his hand snakes up to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. settling on your lower lip, he draws it into his mouth, sucking lightly, pushing you even closer. he runs his hands along your sides, one stopping just below your covered breasts—

“the door,” you manage to stutter out between kisses, “behave.”

when he finally pulls away, both your lips are slightly swollen, red and you’re both breathless.

"there," you say as you push yourself off the bed once more. but this time, rafe lets you go without protest, admiring you with a lazy smile as you make your way to the door.

when you moved back to new york three months ago, you chose to do it independently. while your parents owned at least three penthouses in the city, you needed something smaller. what was the point in living alone in such big apartments? you’d be miserable and alone most of the time.

you chose a smaller studio, fancy enough to be your type, but cozy enough to make you feel at home, even though you were miles away.

as you reach the door, you glance back to see rafe still lounging in your bed, arms crossed lazily behind his head. you shake your own, turn back, and open the door.

your heart immediately falls through your ass.

“topper?!”

he ignores you, pushing you aside to enter as he focuses on removing the thick scarf around his neck, struggling to get it off as he rants.

“about damn time, you know how long i was outside?! swear to god i hate this city, it’s freezing for no reason and—is that rafe fucking cameron on your bed?!”

you freeze in place, feeling a knot form in your stomach as you watch topper's reaction unfold. rafe, ever the cool customer, sits up in bed, a smirk playing at his lips as he meets your brother’s incredulous gaze head-on. you can feel a headache forming in the back of your head.

"hey, top." rafe geets, his tone casual as if he's just encountered an old friend. which he has because that’s his best friend. "long time no see?"

topper's eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of rafe lounging on your bed, “okay, okay. what the fuck is going on?”

he's going to freak out on you.

you clear your throat, trying to find the right words to explain the situation, “he’s visiting.”

top nods, not leaving his best friend out of his sight, “clearly! why are you in my sister’s bed, cameron?”

“was i supposed to sleep on the floor?” rafe replies, tone nonchalantly as he shrugs casually.

you’re going to kill him.

topper's jaw clenches as he shoots rafe a glare, clearly unimpressed by his answer. "you know damn well what i mean." he says, his voice menacing, so different from what you're used to.

rafe's smirk only widens, “relax, man," he says, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "we were just hanging out."

and about to have sex, but your brother doesn’t need all the details.

topper's expression darkens further at your boyfriend’s flippant attitude, and you can practically feel the terrible outcome.

"in her bed?" he asks, his voice dangerously low.

you step forward, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalates any further.

"topper, it's not what you think," you begin, but your brother holds up a hand to silence you.

“and why are you wearing his clothes?”

you glance down at your choice of outfit, flustered, you try to come up with a plausible explanation, “uh—well—it's a funny story, i-i'm out of clothes actually, who knew doing your laundry took so much work?”

his attention flickers between you and rafe, suspicion evident in his expression. you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"out of clothes?" he repeats, his tone incredulous. "and you decided to borrow his?"

you shift uncomfortably under his scrutinization, trying to come up with a better explanation, but you can’t. “yeah?”

he squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s in pain, “please tell me my sister isn’t fucking my best friend.”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you, but rafe speaks before you can conjure the words.

“your sister isn’t fucking your best friend, happy?”

you shoot rafe a warning look, silently pleading for him to play along and not make the situation worse.

you step forward, again. “topper, please, it's not what you think,” you say, your voice tinged with desperation. “rafe just came to visit, that's all.”

topper's stare softens as he contemplates, but his expression remains guarded. “and you didn't think to tell me?”

you bite your lip, feeling guilty for keeping your relationship with rafe a secret from your brother. “i wanted to, i just... didn't know how.”

rafe interjects, his tone more serious now. “top, i know this probably looks bad—”

“it looks really bad,” topper interrupts, his frustration evident.

“but nothing's happened,” rafe continues, ignoring the interruption. “we're just friends.”

but your brother is still inspecting you. and it’s only when his eyes descend to your neck, you realize what he’s looking at.

“is that why she got at least three hickeys on her neck?”

you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as topper's accusation hangs heavy in the air. you stare nervously at rafe, hoping he'll come up with a believable explanation, but he just shrugs nonchalantly, as if the hickeys are no big deal.

“they’re not hickeys, i burned myself with my curling iron.”

“yeah and i’m fucking adriana lima on my spare time.”

“okay?” you quickly turn your head back to the wall because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested.

"oh fuck, not you." top groans in frustration, seeing where rafe googly looks are directed, “not you two! you can't be serious?! that's my sister, dude; come on!"

rafe finally stands up from your bed, his tone is firm, his expression serious as he steps closer to your brother, his hands held out in a placating gesture. “it’s not like that.”

topper glances back and forth between you two, focusing on the blush of your cheeks and the adoration in rafe’s face now that you are looking back at him. a sick, knowing feeling had been building inside of him since he walked through the door.

“i can’t fucking believe this.”

“it’s not like that,” rafe repeats, walking to your side, hating the way your eyes are starting to water. he keeps his hand on your arm, thumb brushing circles over your cold skin, “we’re together. and watch your fucking tone when you speak to her.”

“don’t tell me how to speak to my sister!"

rafe's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. despite that, his hand remains steady on your arm, offering you a silent anchor of support. you feel a knot tighten in your stomach as you testify the tension between the two most important men in your life escalates.

"guys, please," you interject, your voice trembling, "this isn't helping anything."

“you’re in love with her, cameron?”

topper’s question makes you want to dig a hole in the middle of your studio and run.

what the hell?!

he can’t just barge in and make everything a mess. this is what you were afraid of, people meddling with your relationship. you and rafe haven’t discussed it yet. yeah it’s clear you’re in love with him, but you want to be the one to tell him and vice versa. you don’t want him to feel pressured to do it.

rafe's hand tightens on your arm, anchoring himself with the feeling of you beneath his fingertips. his eyes search yours for guidance. you can see the conflict in his expression.

he doesn’t shy away from the question, and his gaze never leaves yours. he traces every line of your face, “yeah, i am.”

the words hang in the air, a declaration that changes everything and nothing all at once. then time stops. your stomach turns unhelpfully, and you feel your skin turn clammy.

from the corner of your eye, you see the shock register on your brother’s face before he can hide it. strangely, he seems to understand now, perhaps more than you realized he would. for a moment, there's silence in the room, the weight of rafe's confession settling over all of you. but then topper lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging with the weight of understanding.

"okay," he says, his voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "okay."

you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, feeling a sense of relief flood through you. despite the uncertainty of what comes next.

rafe's hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours in a silent gesture of solidarity. you squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch grounding you.

"thank you," you say to topper, your voice barely above a whisper but brimmed with gratitude.

he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "just... take care of each other, okay?"

“can you leave now?” rafe all but interrupts the sentimental exchange, “kinda need to properly confess.”

topper raises an eyebrow at his abrupt request, clearly caught off guard by the bluntness. but after a second of hesitation, he nods, pushing himself off the wall where he's been leaning.

"yeah, sure," he says, giving you a meaningful look before turning to leave. "just... be careful, both of you. i’ll stop by later for dinner."

you offer him a small smile in return, feeling a shit ton of emotions swirling inside you as you watch him go. once he's out of sight, you let out a sigh, the tension in the room finally dissipating.

rafe releases your hand, moving to close the door behind topper before returning to your side. his expression is softer now, focused solely on you.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you nod, offering him a shaky smile. "yeah, think so. that was... unexpected."

rafe pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go.

"m’ sorry peach," he murmurs against your hair, his voice filled with regret. "didn't mean to drop that bomb on ya like that."

you sink into his embrace, finding comfort in the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. "t's okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you nuzzle into his chest. "just wish it had been different."

he presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms tightening around you protectively. "i know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.

then, as if a floodgate has opened within you, the words spill from your lips, raw and unfiltered. "i’m in love with you too, rafe."

his arms around you tighten, as if to reassure himself that your words are real.

"i love you," he murmurs against your hair, "more than anything."

you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

he pulls back slowly, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away the tears that have started to fall. "hey now, no tears, baby. only happy ones, yeah?"

you nod, sniffling but managing a watery smile. "yeah, happy tears. because i love you, rafe cameron."

he smiles back, a gentleness in him you've never seen before.

"and i love you, more than anything in this world."

you can't help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palms against your cheeks. his stare is full of tenderness, his thumb gently brushing away the last traces of tears.

"you're everything, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice overflowing with sincerity.

you nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat at the depth of his words. "yeah, i do. and so are you.”

he leans in closer, lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss. he moves against you with a gentle fervor, his hands cradling your face as if you're the most precious thing in the world to him. and in that moment, you know without a doubt that you are and as you pull away, breathless yet content, you rest your forehead against his, savoring the closeness and the warmth that surrounds you.

"i love you," you whisper.

"i love you too, always," rafe replies, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.

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mydearesthrry · 10 months

Text

sweet nothing - h.s.

a/n: TOTALLY LOST THE PLOT WHILE WRITING THIS. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BASED OFF OF THE PICTURE BELOW BUT I GOT DISTRACTED. pls listen to sweet nothing by taylor swift for the full experience!!!

🎀 warnings/cw: none, most tooth rotting fluff ever.

🐇 pairing: fem!reader x harry styles

💐 wc: 1.6k

summary: taking care of a very sleepy harry in an ice bath, and in the car.

“H, the bath is ready, bub.” Harry heard his girlfriend call quietly to him. He was slumped on the couch, this show particularly draining. He was quieter than usual, and instead of being glued to Y/N’s side like he usually was, he let one kiss to her full lips suffice before he decided to rest.

“Mm, thank you, lovie. I’ll… I’ll be there in a second, jus’ don’t have the energy to go there right now.” His limbs were sore, almost every part of his body completely lost of energy, and he found it hard to even entertain the thought of getting up.

“Okay… y’know what, just let me help you, H. The faster we get you into this bath, the faster we can go back to the hotel so you can sleep.” He knew she was right, and because he knew she was right, he allowed her to help (though not really at all since he already had felt bad that she ran the ice bath for him) him get to the bathroom. They walked slowly to the connected bathroom, Harry walking zombie-like in her arms.

“Ready, sweet boy?” She tried to be as quiet as possible, the fact that Harry probably had a headache in the front of her mind. He nodded softly, stripping down to his boxers before letting her help him balance as he stepped into the bath.

A wince immediately left him, Y/N whispering out ‘I’m sorry’s, knowing how shocking the bath was at first. She lowered herself with him, and sat on the floor next to the bucket when he sat down, submersing himself fully.

“Okay bubs, y’know we’ve gotta do this so you don’t fall asleep on me. You ready?” Y/N says, pulling out her phone to pull up the trivia questions she’d pre written for the late night ice bath trivia that had become a tradition for them. Harry hums, and she flips to her notes to start.

“Pick the category, my love. We’ve got pop culture, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe.” She asked, looking up at him, heart breaking a little at the exhausted expression that was obvious on his face.

“Marvel.” He mumbles, sinking himself lower until his neck up was the only part of his body above water.

“Okay… Timer officially starts now. Who played the character Pietro Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver?” Her tone was soft, almost at a whisper.

“Umm… Aaron Taylor Johnson?” Harry questioned, racking his brain to try his hardest to stay awake. His body had now gotten used to the stark cold that he’d slowly started to get used to over the times he’s done this on tour.

“Good job, baby. What was the name of Peter Parker’s love interest in Spider-Man: Homecoming? This one should be easy, it’s one of my favorite movies.” She giggled, a serene sense of peace overcoming her at the domesticity of it all.

“It is easy, she’s called Liz, right? Liz Allan, or something.” His eyes were now closed, feeling the tension in his body slowly disintegrate from the cold of the water.

“Perfect! Though the both of us know that Peter and MJ were the better couple, they were entirely more in love and cuter.” She smiled.

“Oh, really? Like us then, hm?” Harry hummed.

“Yes, H, exactly like us.” A few more questions had passed, and Lloyd had now come to join them in the bathroom, his camera hung around his neck. They’d anticipated him coming anyway, knowing that he would come to snap some behind the scenes pictures. Before they’d even left to go to his dressing room, they’d told Lloyd when to come in so that he could come talk to them.

“Hey guys, sorry for intruding, but I need one of you to pick a few pictures for tonight so I can get them edited by tomorrow.” Lloyd tried to keep his voice quiet too, knowing the kind of atmosphere he was entering before he even came to meet the two in the bathroom.

“Oh yeah, of course, did you want some pictures too?” Harry smiled, a tired but polite look on his face. Harry had built a great relationship with Lloyd over the months that they’ve been on tour, and they’d gotten more comfortable with each other than they’d anticipated.

“Only if you’re comfortable, H.” Lloyd smiled. Y/N and Lloyd talked for a second, scrolling through pictures and picking out a few for him to edit. The time they took allowed Harry to rest in the cold for a little, before pushing himself up and folding over, dipping his head into the ice cold water. He could faintly hear Lloyd’s footsteps move to the front of the tub, along with the flicking of the camera shutter going off as he lifted his head out of the tub, ringing out his hair from the nape of his neck to the front of his scalp.

A couple more flutters from the camera shutters were heard when Harry was rubbing his eyes with the pruny tips of his fingers, and he failed to see the smile on Lloyd’s face.

Lloyd pulled the camera from his eyes, looking at the digital screen that held a preview of the picture. In the corner, slightly blurred because of the harsh focus that was set on Harry in the center, say Y/N with a soft smile playing on her lips, a moony gaze in her eyes. He made a mental note to send it to them later, and to also crop her out in the final edit in an attempt to salvage their private relationship.

“Perfect. I’ll let you two rest now, think I’m gonna head to the hotel now myself. Sleep well, you guys, I’ll send you the pictures in the morning.” Lloyd smiles at them, sharing goodnights before closing the door behind him as he walked out.

Harry’s now damp hair was combed back by his fingers and rested on the top of his head, save for the rogue curl that shriveled in a tiny curl on his forehead. Y/N rested her arms on the side of the tub, a gleam in her eyes as she watched Harry’s relaxed expression. Her timer, however, had different plans for the relaxed couple, and went off with shrill screams, notifying them that it was now time for Harry to leave the bath.

“Alright sweet boy, time to go.” She tapped on her screen to stop the ringing, standing up to grab his black and white striped towel. She met him in the middle, her boyfriend already standing on the towel that laid outside of the tub, water droplets falling from his body in a soft cascade, small shivers shaking his shoulders slightly. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes to meet the level of his face, pecking soft kisses onto his cold lips. They stayed in that position for a bit, waiting for Harry’s skin to absorb the rest of the small water droplets.

She led him with a soft tug to the main space in the dressing room, taking the outfit she’d gotten ready for him while he was on stage from the makeup chair and placed it onto the couch. Leaning down a bit, she took the towel to let him remove his now soaked briefs, before passing him a pair of boxers, tossing his towel onto the back of the couch. She passed him his clothes as he dressed himself slowly, humming at the words of love and admiration he sleepily spewed out. Once he got his last article of clothing on, she took his hoodie strings into her hands and tugged it down softly, making him lean down a bit to meet her lips.

Their lips connected in a soft caress, his bottom lip wedges in between her two lips, a sweet hum emitting from his throat from the taste of her coconut flavored chapstick, one that was his favorite. Something that could only be described as love seemed to fill the room whenever they had these kinds of moments. Moments that was completely and purely their own.

They broke away from the kiss, and when Harry went to say something, a yawn cut him off, mouth opening wide making him resemble something of a lion, making a giggle fall from her slightly swollen lips. “Let’s get you into a bed, sleepy boy.”

“M’kay.” Harry didn’t put up a fight, wanting to get into bed with her to snuggle more than anything.

They walked through the halls of the venue, pushing through the back door where their driver was already waiting for them, engine started and purring softly. Y/N opens the back car door, stepping in and moving to the side since she knew Harry would follow her. The driver muttered that it would take them about 5 to 10 minutes to get to the hotel before taking off without another word.

Y/N snapped her seatbelt on, a confused twinge on her face when she didn’t see Harry do the same. Instead, he scooted over to the middle seat, laying into her sleepily. “H, you gotta put on your seatbelt.”

“Noooo, s’not even that far, and I jus’ wan’ y’to hold me right now.” He mumbled, slightly muffled from the way he burrowed his face into her neck. She sighed in slight exasperation, saying nothing and just letting him completely collapse and rest into her. He was almost laying completely in her lap, her hand in his hair, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked out the window and into the city.

She let out a tiny giggle when she felt the slight tickle of stubble on her neck, followed by sweet kisses on the expanse of it. “I love you, love y’so much, it hurts.”

“I love you, H.” She intertwined their fingers together, bringing up his hand to her mouth and pressing featherlight kisses onto his knuckles.

“I love you,” Harry whined, making the smallest of smiles cover her face since knew how clingy and lovey Harry got when he was tired. She tried to relish in these moments as much as possible.

“I love you, sweet boy, the Peter Parker to my Michelle Jones.” A sweet giggle sounded from Harry as he remembered the conversation from earlier.

“Entirely in love and cute. I agree.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry <3 #harry edward styles #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles x fem!reader

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theonewiththefanfics · 5 months

Text

Love Conquers All (one-shot)

Synopsys: The wedding is finally afoot. Astarion and his love have fought for it tooth and nail, but could there be more to life after happily-ever-after?

Set after the main events of BG3 This is a follow up to Homecoming (one-shot). Would probably advise reading it beforehand :)

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst, insecure Astarion, but just pure teeth-rotting fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA

Word count: 8875

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Astarion knew ever since he met Y/N, she was the only one he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. They had gone through hells and back for one another, quite literally going head-to-head with a devil. They’d fought for their happily ever after tooth and nail, and now, the biggest day of their lives (yet) was here.

The vampire spawn woke up from his trance jittery and excited for what was to come. It had been ages since he’d felt this way, such joy while looking forward to what the day had installed for him because he was finally going to marry the love of his life.

Their day would be perfect, Astarion had done everything to ensure it. He’d taken to wedding planning like a cat to cream, making sure that once their day arrived, even the smallest detail would be flawless.

It had taken them two years to settle on a time of the year, let alone a date, but that had given him enough time to grow the flowers for the arrangements that now decorated their house, fussing with them like one would with a child (and sometimes threatening a certain rose if it didn’t grow the way he wanted it to). He even invertedly created a couple of new variates in the process, but those were specifically relegated as the flowers Y/N would weave in her hair for the ceremony.

He had even meticulously studied cookery books, having his parents along with his love be his taste testers, seeing he couldn’t really enjoy eating human food, but he’d be damned if something disgusting would be served in his house, no less on his wedding day. Unless it had a ten out of ten approval from everyone involved, Astarion scrapped the recipe and started over. He was fairly certain the caterers hated him because he’d made them prepare the food before and until they got it absolutely right, he was on their asses day and night.

But if he had to pick a favourite process throughout all the planning, it was when Y/N had come to him late one night as he burrowed himself in his sowing room and requested, that he design and make her wedding dress. Astarion almost got down on his knees in reverence as she looked at him with such tender eyes. And, well, let’s just say – during fittings, his hands might’ve skimmed the inside of her thighs on more than one occasion, and his head might’ve slipped below the skirt to taste between her legs, wholly unprofessional.

Oh, and that dream of a house with a grand library, where shelves of books stretched from one corner to the other, and a large ballroom to host parties until daylight broke – no longer was it a simple dream, but rather his reality. Not only that, he could hear people fussing all across the house as hired staff prepared final details and decorations for the ceremony.

The new house, or let’s be honest, the manor, Astarion and Y/N lived in, had not come easy though. He’d pretty much brought his lover to the end of her wits when they’d gone on the search for their dream home. In the end, it boiled down to her threatening to make them live in the forest like Halsin, sleeping on the hard ground, if he didn’t come to a decision.

Astarion was aghast at the suggestion, crossing his arms and pouting hard. “Why are you so upset about this?” He couldn’t understand what the big issue was with him being so picky. “We’re looking for the place to start our new lives in! It has to be no less than absolute excellence! Do you not want that?”

“Of course, I do!” Y/N rolled her eyes, putting her half-drunk wine glass on the bedside table and shifting her body to completely face him. “But nothing is perfect in this world, Star.”

When he narrowed his scarlet gaze at her, she huffed and shifted to sit on her knees, cupping his face between her palms. “Nothing in life is without its flaws, but that’s the beauty of it all. It gives us a chance to grow and change. And it’s the same with a house. Floors are fixable. Sofas and divans can be reupholstered. Walls can be repainted, those dilapidated wallpapers ripped off, hells we can knock the wall down if we want to… but we will never find our perfect home if we don’t put the work in and make it ourselves.”

Y/N’s soft thumb ventured up to smooth out the grumpy lines that had appeared on Astarion’s forehead. “If you want perfect, you have to do the work to make it so. Because that last house we saw, the one you said could be ours, if it didn’t have those stains on the table or that feeling wallpaper or the hole in the roof that needs fixing – that was someone else’s perfect home because they made it that way.”

Astarion scrunched his nose. “Did a shitty job, that’s for sure.”

If Y/N could roll her eyes any harder, he was sure they’d get stuck in the back of the skull like that. “My point is, we have to make it that way. Yes, the whole process will be long and tedious and I’m fairly certain, there will be moments where we want to kill each other, because, gods forbid, I want the blackout curtains to be emerald not burgundy. But none of that will matter because it will be ours… what can be more perfect than that?”

The vampire always had a comment on the tip of his tongue, he always had a sarcastic remark or some sort of critique to offer, but to this, he had nothing to reply, as he pondered the words.

Y/N tilted her head, a smile blooming on her lovely mouth. “I know you want everything to be exactly how you see it in your head, right from the very start. I know you don’t want to fight anymore, and gods, my love, you don’t deserve to fight for anything, but this isn’t it… this is change. And I think you’re more scared than annoyed at all the little things that might need mending.”

Astarion averted his gaze, looking past Y/N and to the window, the bright light of the moon illuminating the woods beyond. From the corner of the eye, he could see her engagement ring, the ruby glinting like a star in the sky. A finger brushed over his brow, soothing him. “I think you’re nervous to go after what you want, so you’re trying to find any possible reason as to why every house we’ve viewed has had something unfixable to it.”

Closing his eyes, Astarion leaned into her touch. “I hate it when you can see through me like that.” He hated to admit it. It felt like some sort of weakness to be seen so clearly, but he also knew Y/N would never judge him for his fears. But it was still hard to voice them. “I just – I’m scared it will be different.”

“It will be.” She shrugged. “But different doesn’t mean it’ll be bad.”

He didn’t seem convinced though as his mind and attention drifted off, and she had to tilt his chin towards her, a kiss to his forehead bringing him back into the moment. “My Star, we can always stay right where we are. I love this house. And as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter where we make our home.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, my love,” Astarion let out an undignified scoff. “As darling as this place is, I still want that library. And, well, maybe a tailoring room would be lovely. And I can’t say I would be opposed to a walk-in closet, instead of that little dresser we have now.”

More and more his lips turned into a smile and his gaze lightened as they went on until the morning dawned, talking and mapping out what their perfect abode would be like. They talked about the colours of the walls, where they’d like to hang paintings and how many mattresses their bed should have. Astarion insisted on at least three, so it would feel like resting on a cloud. Y/N thought it was a bit ridiculous, but if that was what he wanted, it’s what he would get. As long as he promised her to have separate duvets, the cover hog that he was.

They settled on a manor near the city, but far enough from the crowds to still keep some sort of privacy. She had been right about the restorations being long and mind-numbingly taxing and took them over a year and a half to return the manor to its former glory. All of their funds sank into it, and as Y/N had also warned – there came a moment where it seemed like they would rip one another’s heads off, having to spend a night in separate rooms. But now they got to relish in the fruits of their labour as the ballroom Astarion had manifested was being transformed into their wedding chapel.

He lazily stretched out his limbs, curling around his still-sleeping love. If he’d had a tail, the cat that he was, he would weave it over Y/N’s middle and curl it, trying to pull her closer if possible.

The woman grumbled something unintelligible, tightening the hold she had on one of the four pillows she had.

“Good morning, my wife. Our big day is here. Time to get up.” Gently, he brushed strands of wild hair from her face, placing them behind her ear, to which he leaned down and gave a playful nibble. To Astarion’s delight, he felt a shiver run down her spine, her toes curling against where she’d pressed them to his calf.

“Not your wife yet,” Y/N grumped, turning so that she could hide her face in the crook of his neck, tickling the sensitive skin there with warm puffs of breath. “And your bride needs her beauty sleep unless you wish for her to look like a troll at the altar. Didn’t give me much of it last night.”

A wicked grin formed on his mouth, one incisor lightly biting on her earlobe. “I didn’t hear you complaining though. In fact, I didn’t hear you say anything but my name.”

Teasing fingers brushed against her ribs and the underside of her breasts, a breath hitching in Y/N’s chest. When he splayed his hand against her stomach, she hummed in pleasure, the sound reverberating through his chest and seeping into his bones.

Her own palms moved from hugging Astarion’s side to his back, nails softly scratching up and down the skin there – so very tenderly over the scars, but with a bit of a bite right above his rear. If he could purr, he would be, but alas, he just moaned and melted like an icicle in the sun.

It was almost tempting to just stay in the bed like that, twining together and just relishing in one another’s touch.

“When are your parents getting here?” Y/N yawned and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “Your mother promised to help me with the dress and hair.”

“Right as the sun goes down. We should have plenty of time before the moon is high.”

They had decided on a night-time wedding, so the following celebrations could be moved outside into the lavish gardens Astarion had so lovingly created. He may not be able to walk in the sun anymore, but he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy at least the moonlight. Besides, daytime weddings were so casual, and he was anything but.

He rested his palm in between Y/N’s breasts, but he just kept it there, didn’t try and stray any further. He simply wanted to feel how her heart beat against his palm, the rhythm a steadying and grounding feeling, and it somewhat calmed his fluttery nerves.

“Then we have a few more hours to sleep,” came Y/N’s slurred response as she hitched a leg over his naked hip, but she didn’t try to go any further either. “And you are not getting out of this bed, my personal pillow.”

Astarion smiled at her words and kissed her forehead. He’d been smiling an awful lot since he met her. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

And even though he itched to go downstairs and supervise every single thing, he allowed the peace that came with being next to Y/N to settle over him as well. It was their day. His day. And starting it off with his little human sweetheart wrapped around him like a vine, keeping him close to her, was nothing short of wonderful.

At some point, she did fall asleep again, Astarion’s movements as his deft fingers massaged the back of her head, lulling her to dreamland. His mind drifted a bit but remained more alert than when he tranced, wandering to how exactly he’d gotten to a moment where in just a few little hours he’d become someone’s husband.

Not only did he have Y/N, but he had his parents to relish in the moment with. He had friends, something that was competently out of the question for two hundred years, and all of them would be arriving to witness the most joyous day of his life. Him! With friends! He even had a true sister, something that’d surprised even him.

That had come about when Astarion had ventured into the Underdark once and reconnected with Darylia. At first, he’d thought there would be too much bad blood between them, no pun intended. It’s why he’d strayed away from the region after he’d freed the rest of the seven thousand spawn from Cazador. Too many painful memories bound them, but instead of admonishments, he found comfort.

He’d bumped into Dalyria at a tavern as he was tracking down an artefact. Astarion was nothing short of astonished when she invited him to a tavern for a drink. The conversation was awkward at first, but as they talked more and more, she seemed to be actually happy for him as he confirmed he was still with Y/N, had a little house by the forest to call their own and spent his days keeping in touch with the party that’d formed during the tadpole adventure while trying to get a sowing business off the ground. She was even more ecstatic to hear when Astarion announced he was engaged.

Dal had a wistful smile on her face. “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t envy you, but… you deserve it. All that happiness… after what Cazador put you through, you deserve all that’s good.”

He didn’t want to, but a ball formed in his throat at her words. “Cazador wasn’t kind to any of us.”

“No,” she mussed. “But you did free us from him. And when you had the chance to take his power for yourself, to become the most powerful vampire in existence, you didn’t. You allowed us to go out there and regain the years we lost under his control. To make our own lives. For that, you deserve only the best.”

A snort escaped him as he swirled the remains of his wine. “Y/N would say not committing mass murder is quite a low bar, if that’s why I’m worthy of happiness.”

“Maybe, but no one would fault you had you gone for it.”

“Maybe…” Astarion pondered. “But I would not have been worthy of Y/N, then. That is for sure.”

Dalyria clinked her glass of blood against his before emptying it, and he was glad he had not been drinking himself as he sure would have choked on the drink. “Will you teach me how to find love? I – I think I’d like to find what you two have. Become… worthy of having it.”

Astarion didn’t know how to respond, but ultimately said he could only try, yet unless the change came from within, there wasn’t much he could do. And the hardest part wouldn’t be learning how to find love, but learning how to love oneself. Only then you could learn how to love others.

“Seems awfully tedious,” Dalyria’s brow had furrowed.

He chuckled and nodded. “It is. But I’ve learned, as much as it can be boring, it’s worth it in the end.”

It had taken time for the vampire to start the process of self-acceptance and processing the trauma, but Astarion was right there by her side, and now, she would be by his, a partner of her own next to her, a human at that, as he tied the knot.

Y/N’s nose scrunched in her sleep as their blissful moment was interrupted by a bell chiming through the house. She grabbed a pillow and smushed it over her head hitting him in the face in the process. “We should’ve eloped.”

“My love, you know as well as I do, our dear friends would’ve hunted us down like prey and dragged us before an altar by the ears. And honestly – I would help them with that.”

When they had rolled out the announcement of their engagement, Astarion’s mother helping them write beautiful little cards to send to their party most had actually shown up to congratulate them in person.

Karlach had been the first one to arrive, banging on the door to let her in, seemingly bursting with excitement. “If my engine wasn’t fixed, I think I would have levelled a whole block when I got the card!” She jumped up and down as she smothered them in a hug.

The second the Tiefling reluctantly released Y/N and Astarion from her grasp, Shadowheart appeared, a bit more subdued in the way she showed her happiness, but still very much so thrilled. She’d even brought along a bottle of wine, as such an event had to be celebrated.

Gale along with Tara teleported right into the living from straight from Waterdeep, a chest of tomes with him, a gift for the library Astarion wanted.

“I even cancelled today’s lectures, and my students were so delighted, they also got you something.” He extended a smaller box, a gorgeous set of feather pens inside. “A thanks for the day off and congratulations on the engagement.”

Wyll, now Grand Duke, joined the festivities right as the sun started its descent.

“I would’ve come sooner, but duties call.”

“Ever the honourable man.” Astarion hugged the once Blade of Frontiers. “I’m lucky Y/N doesn’t care much for honour, otherwise I would be fighting a losing battle.”

“It’s all the blood loss,” she chimed in, hugging Wyll as he congratulated her. “Questionable decisions are not uncommon when oxygen is depleted in the blood.”

Her vampiric love pointed a finger at her. “Well, there are no takebacks, so deal with it.”

Oh, how far he’d come such jokes didn’t sting, and instead he could laugh at them because he knew she wouldn’t leave him. It was certainly not something he ever had to fear.

Halsin and Lae’Zel were last to join Dalyria accompanying them as the night settled, completing their little group.

They spent hours drinking and laughing, enjoying red drinks, some wine, and some other ethically sourced, of course, substances as they lounged by the fireplace.

“So, when will the actual wedding be?” Gale asked as he stretched over a loveseat, Tara having claimed his lap as a napping spot, her purrs echoing through the room. “I would be more than happy, and well, my students most definitely, to cancel the exams for it. Such an affair cannot be missed. Two heroes of Baldur’s Gate wedding each other.”

Wyll pointed a finger at the wizard. “You know, you are onto something. I might just have to make it a day of celebration in the city!”

“Actually…” Y/N shifted next to Astarion. “We were thinking of just going to a magistrate and signing the papers as soon as possible. Nothing grand really.”

A stunned silence settled before Dalyria snapped her gaze toward her brother. “You must be joking,” she deadpanned. “Astarion, I think you might need to lay off feeding from her for a while.”

“Y/N was thinking that,” he rolled his eyes at the outburst. “I disagree.” Turning on his best pout, the vampire glanced at the woman pressed to his side. “You would so willingly deprive me of seeing you in a wedding dress like it isn’t the most important day of our lives. I, for one, wish for this to be my only wedding, yet you break my heart into pieces with your words.”

Lae’Zel let out her signature “t’chk” of disapproval at Y/N’s amused huff. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but the spawns are right. A ceremony must be held. None of this magistrate nonsense, but a real, proper ceremony.”

“You all just want a party.” The Y/H/C-haired woman crossed her arms over her chest.

Halsin boomed a chuckle. “Well, we will not say no to the one a wedding comes with. But if you do not wish to have your dearest companions, people who love you most in the world, to be next to you on such an important day, that is completely dine. It is your wedding after all.”

“Oh, come on!” Y/N threw her hands up with a laugh. “That is so unfair! I mean, I just don’t care for the pageantry of it all.”

“Sweetheart, you are marrying the most pompous man to walk this earth. No offense, Astarion.” Shadowheart looked at the elf, but he simply shrugged, as it was true. “And you mean to tell me there will be no grand display of love?”

Her lover nodded at the cleric’s words, batting his lashes at Y/N. “Besides, would you truly be so cruel, that you’d deny my parents such a day? After everything they’ve gone through.”

“Alright, now you’re just blatantly blackmailing me.” She gave him a humour-filled look.

Astarion put a hand on his chest in mock outrage. “Blackmail my darling intended? I would never! However, if I were, I would also mention that the ring on your finger did belong to my mother, who so lovingly passed it onto you, saying she wished for you to wear it when she saw you next. You know, just a little information, to tug on your heartstrings.”

And tug at her heartstrings it did, as Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes widened, no doubt mind whirling from the statement.

“This is your mother’s ring?” She looked down at the piece of jewellery like it was the most precious thing in the world. “You didn’t tell me that.”

He didn’t intend for her to cry, but he wiped at her cheeks as a couple of tears rolled down her face. “She gave it to me the night we went to see my parents for the first time. I was already preparing to do it, but it just gave me the final push I needed to actually ask you. Even though I technically never did ask.” Astarion nudged her side, and Y/N snorted, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

“Wait, hold on.” Dal leaned forward, a scrutinous gaze turned towards the elf. “What do you mean he never asked the bloody question? First no wedding, now no proper proposal?”

Karlach though seemed to have other more pressing thoughts in her head. “Holy shit, Fangs, you robbed your mother’s grave!? I mean that is messed up even for you!”

“Rewind.” Gale swirled a finger in the air. “You have a mother?”

All these questions and statements were said one over the other as the room exploded into a full-blown interrogation, everyone flinging queries their way. It took Astarion and Y/N about an hour to respond and tell the full story, but not before they stopped laughing.

At that moment though, Astarion clad in his silk pyjama set, the face greeting him was so full of delight, Karalch shone brighter than the set sun.

“I feel like I could just burst!” The tiefling hugged him, and he responded in kind. It’d become one of his favourite physical ways to show and receive affection. “But where is the wife-to-be herself?”

“Still in bed. You know Y/N and mornings, well, nights I guess, do not mix.”

“Ah, yes,” a male voice agreed and Karlach stepped aside to allow Wyll to enter. “You know, there were moments during our adventure when I genuinely thought our fearless leader would be the one to end us. Remember that time Gale woke her up before dawn because he needed an artefact to consume? His poor eyebrows.” The Grand Duke shook his head. “Honestly thought it might’ve very well have been the last moments of our dear wizard.”

“And yet, it wasn’t!” As if summoned, the Wizard of Waterdeep himself poofed into existence in the foyer. “I live to see yet another day where I can bless my friends with my presence. Eyebrows intact this time.”

Astarion couldn’t control the eye roll as it was almost reflexive when it came to Professor Gale Dekarios, but he couldn’t deny the happiness rushing through his veins seeing the man. If he ever saw Mystra in the mortal plane, she’d better start praying to a god herself, for what he put his friend through.

“It was… quite the look, I have to say,” Lae’Zel commented as she entered the house, joining their group. It seemed like they had a tendency to appear in the same places at the same time even without scheduling such a thing. “But do not attempt to upstage the bride, Gale. Astarion will already be doing his best. Though if these are your chosen clothes,” she gave him a onceover. “I believe Y/N has absolutely nothing to be concerned about.”

Astarion scoffed. “This is handwoven silk.”

“That is poor excuse for wedding attire.” Shadowheart appeared behind them all. “For once we agree, Lae’Zel, so enough with the chitchatting. A wedding needs to happen, and you need to get dressed.”

The only reason he’d decided to put on some clothes was because the thought of his parents walking in on him naked, was enough to pull out all the stashed winter attire and cover himself up so much nothing but his nose would be showing. Now though, Astarion almost wanted to rip them off just to spite the gathered crowd but abstained.

Before he did scamper off, he showed where they could go and mingle while he checked on the final details, especially how the ballroom was looking, and he had to admit, the drow in charge of decorations had turned it into something from a fairy tale.

The room had high windows, all the shutters open to let in the pale light of the moon garlands hanging from the ceiling and walls, the many mirrors on the sides, giving an effect that the room was larger than it truly was, creating an illiusion of a forest inside their home. At the very end between two columns of chairs was the altar where Shadowheart would officiate, two golden cups already placed on a velvet pillow.

There was hired staff in the gardens where food and drinks were being handed out.

Astarion took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out. Everything was going to be just fine. He had promised as much to Y/N. This nervousness had been one of the reasons he’d wanted to take on the whole wedding affair onto himself.

“I don’t want you to lift a single finger.” Astarion had brushed his nose against Y/N’s cheek after it was settled a full-blown wedding was happening and their friends had dispersed, leaving the two lovebirds on their own. “Just leave it all to me.”

“I mean, I can’t do that,” she exasperated. “It’s our day. We both should be involved. I won’t put such an event all on your shoulders.”

“But I want you to! Listen to me – me getting to order others around as they have to bend our every wish and whim, while all you have to do is nod for yes, and shake your head for no – sounds like a great time to me.”

“Sounds very unfair to you.” Y/N was still sceptical frowning hard at Astarion’s proposition.

“Look,” he sighed, taking her hand in his. “Let me do this for you. For us. You saved me back when I thought I was beyond it. I fully believed I was relegated to nothing but a life of pain and darkness and then… you showed up. You helped me through so many horrors, held me when it felt like the walls were pressing in… I would not have been able to do so without you. So please… let me make this day something you can enjoy and not have to worry about. I am very convincing when I set my eyes on something I want.”

And when he pulled his puppy dog eyes on her, Astairon knew he had her right where he wanted. Y/N could never resist him when his eyes got all soft and round. He could practically see her resolve melting then and there like fresh-fallen snow.

“Alright,” she conceded, and with a passionate kiss against her lips, he pulled her to sit in his lap. “But if it becomes too much, you have to promise to ask me for help.”

“I swear it.” Astarion pecked her lips once more, and though he had no intentions of letting her lift a finger, he was truthful when making such a vow. With Y/N, he’d learned it wasn’t a crime or sign of weakness to request aid.

He left the door open, surely more guests would be arriving, but before he could disappear, two more frames rushed up the steps, his mother and father practically beaming with pride as they saw him.

“I think your druid friend is also on the way,” his mother said, pressing a light kiss to Astarion’s cheek and pulling him in for a hug. “But he stopped to pet a flock of sheep along the way.”

The vampire snorted. “Well, we can only hope Halsin actually arrives for the ceremony on time. Or doesn’t bring the lambs as guests… appetizers though.”

She gave him an amused smile, before squeezing his hand. “I’ll just go and say hello to that wizard of yours. I think I saw him walking somewhere in the gardens and then I’ll be right up with Y/N. Has the sleeping beauty awoken yet?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, frowning. It was a well-known fact his love was a notorious sleepyhead, but that was not his reason for watching with a grimace how his mother practically skipped to the terrace in search of Gale.

“How does she know him?” he directed the question at the male elf standing beside him.

His father sighed, looking at his wife as she disappeared behind the corner, but not before she made sure she looked good, fluffing up her hair in the mirror before the grand entrance to their house. “She’s been quite obsessed with his cookbook. Just be glad she didn’t bring it along for an autograph. But enough of that. You need to get dressed, my Star. The moon is almost nigh.”

All other thoughts vanished from Astarion’s head as he noted how the white orb was pretty much at its peak, and the notion of getting married suddenly became a tangible thing. In just a few hours, under the pale light, he would vow to protect and cherish Y/N, they’d fill one another’s cups and drink, before tying strands of magical gold around one another’s fingers as a symbol of their unity in the ancient elven traditions. Astarion was about to become a husband with Y/N as his wife. If his heart had still beaten, it would’ve been jumping out of his chest.

“Did you feel like this as well when you married Mother?” the vampire’s hand shook as he entered the sowing room he’d claimed as his dressing room for the day. A naked mannequin stood at the corner. It’d born Y/N’s dress which was now surely being slid onto her frame, perfectly fitting against her body, and it was just another reminder of what was to come.

His father closed the door, going over to a suit that was hanging on another mannequin and slipped it off, laying it gently onto a settee. “Like what, Star?”

“Like unless in twenty seconds this whole thing is over, you’ll pass out.”

The deep chuckle the older elf let out was like a reassuring hug, somewhat calming Astarion. “Yes. Very much so. Add onto that wanting to throw up and black spots across my vision, I was pretty much hopeless. But then I was by the altar waiting for your mother, and when she appeared… nothing else mattered. It’s just the waiting that’s horrible.”

“Gods, maybe Y/N was right,” Astarion breathed out, sitting down by his tailoring table, head in his hands. “We should have definitely eloped. I mean it’s not normal to feel this way, is it?”

“Dear Star, it might have taken us two hundred years to find you, and we’ve only been lucky enough to have you back for two, but make no mistake,” his father deadpanned. “Your mother is not above murder and physical restraint if needed.”

“Yes, I know, you kidnapped my bride,” Astarion said. “But, I mean, what if it’s not perfect?” He looked at the elf. Blue reassuring eyes stared back, but even the conviction he saw in them couldn’t quench the lingering fear. “What if she isn’t there? What if I’m left a fool standing by the altar and she does not come?”

Those last words were barely a whisper, shame running through his veins as he said them, but it had been something plaguing his nightmares for weeks on end – Y/N finally realising she deserved so much better and leaving him heartbroken.

When he awoke in a cold sweat and she asked what was wrong, Astarion wrote it off as having a bad dream about Cazador. In truth, he hadn’t dreamt of his master in a long time, his only fear being Y/N tossing him to the side for something better.

“Astarion,” his father said sternly, but not unkindly. “That woman has walked through literal hells for you. And taken on a devil, as you yourself have told us. I highly doubt now would be the moment she gets cold feet.”

Deep down in his heart, he knew the words rang true. Astarion remembered after having killed Cazador, how strongly the urge to Ascend took over. Such power right at the tips of his fingers, yet at the cost of seven thousand souls. But at that moment, he was willing to pay it. He’d never have to be afraid of anything anymore if he finished the ritual. All he needed was for someone to copy the runes on his back. He’d turned to Y/N, someone who he knew supported him, but to his shock, she refused.

Fury took him over. He’d thrown insults so vile it made bile rise in his throat nowadays when thinking back on it. Words wishing her a painful and slow demise, telling her he hoped she died screaming. Astarion had expected her to leave, yet as his mind had cleared, processing the grief and agony he was going through, she was there by his side.

Even though he didn’t deserve it, Y/N held him as he cried, and whispered comforting words when he could do nothing but slump over himself in physical and emotional exhaustion. She was there for him like an unmovable rock, that not even time or tide could erode.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion had begged that night for her forgiveness while she cradled him in her arms. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was – I was blinded by the power. By what I could be, what I could do… I – reality was no longer visible to me. And I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Y/N’s kiss was a balm to his wounds, especially those that no one else but her could see or soothe. “And I forgive you.”

Astarion’s father put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him out of the reminiscing. “She will be there because if there is one thing in this world I don’t doubt, it’s her love for you.”

He wrapped that thought around his heart. She would be there. Y/N would always be there for him. But first, he had to be the one to await her, so with his father’s help, he stood up and got ready.

After a year of getting reacquainted with his parents, he’d told them some of what Cazador had done. With Y/N holding his hand through it, he even felt brave enough to show his scars. There were a lot of tears and hugging, and much to his surprise, talks of resurrecting the vampire lord by his mother, just so she could drive a stake through his heart. And Y/N was very eager to agree.

His love had a vicious glint in her eye, and Astarion had to swallow his arousal as she leaned closer over the table where they’d been drinking afternoon tea and said, “I know how to skin a man and keep him alive the whole time.”

“Yes!” His mother accepted the idea immediately. “Let’s do that! My Star, how do we contact that Withers friend of yours?”

Honestly, the fact that Astarion was the one trying to quench their bloodlust and be the peacekeeper, for a moment, made him think he’d been thrown into some different universe. That was not how he expected the conversation over some tea and biscuits to go.

His father smoothed down the back of the white linen shirt and Astarion tucked it into the white trousers while the older elf helped with the cuffs, onyx squares glinting in the warm light of the candelabras. Looking down, he surveyed the intricate frock he’d slaved over days and nights.

It was matching a ivory to that of Y/N’s dress, the chest decorated with weavings of golden threads, much like what he’d sown across the bodice and through the hemlines of her gown. Astarion smiled, a gentle finger skimming over his work, knowing what the scribbles meant.

To the unknowing, it looked nothing more than a pattern of leaves and flowers, but to those who could read ancient elvish, the truth was laid bare. The idea had struck him late one night as he’d sketched Y/N’s dress. With the help of his parents, as his memory of what once used to be his mother tongue was not so good, he stitched into the fabric little love confessions.

Throughout her wedding attire, he’d sown the words of his undying love, of what she meant to him, and on his own jacket, he’d sown the promises he intended to keep as a husband, to always make sure she was safe and loved.

By the time he was tying the cravat, Astarion’s knees were shaking, and his father had to take over, tucking in the piece of cloth by his chest.

The vampire ran a quivering hand through his white hair. “So?” Gods, even his voice was trembling. How was he supposed to say his vows and not sound like a growing youth whose voice was on the verge of breaking? “How do I look?”

For a moment, his father didn’t say anything, just smoothed down the fabric over his shoulders. “Like a man ready to start the best chapter of his life.”

“Good.” Astarion nodded. “Because now I’m feeling that nausea you talked about.”

The older elf let out a warm laugh before nudging his chin towards the open window and when he looked over, he saw the moon shining bright in the sky, a smattering of millions of stars behind it. “It’s time, Star.”

With a shaky breath, Astarion nodded. He was ready. As long as he remembered how to move his mouth and say words, nothing could go wrong.

As he walked back towards the foyer, gentle music greeted him, meaning the string quartet of bards had arrived and their family and friends were filtering into the ballroom.

It was as if he was floating, barely being able to acknowledge the gathered people. Some patted him on the back, some asked if he was excited, and all of his responses were like through a haze, especially as he took his place by the altar.

Shadowheart was already there, giving him an encouraging smile.

“Don’t you clean up nice.”

Astarion wanted to give some sort of a sarcastic quip, but all he could manage was a hum of acknowledgement. He was really truly, nervous. The breath entering his lungs was shaky and came out the same way. He didn’t even need to breathe, but if he didn’t, he might just pass out.

“If it’s any consolation, Y/N is calm as a cucumber,” the cleric said. “Or maybe she’s just a better actress than you.”

The vampire’s pale brows scrunched, as he looked at the woman. She just shrugged.

“She said she knows you’ll be here. What more is there for her to want or be afraid of?”

And that trust, the belief Y/N had in Astarion, settled something in his heart, and when his parents entered, taking their seats in the front row, both elves beaming, all that fear disappeared like mist in the morning.

Beautiful music swirled around them, and all of the guests stood.

The whole world stopped turning the second he laid his eyes on Y/N.

Her body was clad in the white gown he’d poured all his love and care into, the gold thread shimmering in the candle and moonlight. Her hair was free as she always preferred, but small, intricate braids inlaid with diamonds as if rain had settled atop her head, a flower crown gracing the top of it. Y/N’s skin was also covered in a shimmery powder, that made her absolutely glow, as if from within, and the Y/E/C eyes he loved to get lost in, were lined with kohl giving her gaze an intense look. Had it not been for her rounded ears, Y/N would be the epitome of a true elven queen.

Astarion released a breath that’d gotten stuck in his chest and tears welled in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

He’d been lucky, especially in these past few years where he’d been able to witness a lot of beautiful things. But nothing was as beautiful as her walking toward him.

Y/N’s head was high, as her gaze bore into his – his scarlet not looking away from her Y/E/C ones – her lips pulled in the widest smile he’d ever seen on her face.

Gods, she was beautiful, and his ego also revelled in how that grin was directed at him. At only him. It seemed like it took her ages, but at the same time not even a couple of seconds to be standing before him, handing off her bouquet of lilies of the valley to his mother and placing her palms in Astarion’s awaiting ones.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N, but she couldn’t take hers off him. Vaguely he heard Shadowheart offer blessings and words of wisdom for the new couple as they started their joined lives. Astarion only snapped back to reality when it was time for him to take the golden thread and tie it around her finger, an ancient elven tradition – instead of simply exchanging rings, one would take a twine of gold and imbue it with the power of their words, before the vows were sealed.

No longer did his hands shake, and his voice didn’t crack once as he said his vows, as he gently twisted the twine and looped it back around where it moulded together by magic on their own, creating a gorgeous ring.

Then it was Y/N’s turn.

“I vow to protect your life as my own,” her voice was soft and steady as she spoke. “I vow to walk the dark paths and lead you to the light when needed. I promise to be your reassurance when doubts come, and I promise to love you until the stars no longer shine.”

Astarion didn’t care as more tears slid down his cheeks and wetted the neckline of his frock when finally, the golden thread connected and solidified itself on his ringfinger.

He was married. He didn’t care that Shadowheart hadn’t said yet he could kiss his new wife, that they needed to drink the blessed wine from the cups, as he surged forward, taking Y/N by the wrist and smashing their lips together. From somewhere afar he heard whoops and cheers, and a “you could’ve waited for just a second more,” but it was all background noise with no meaning as his love’s palm slid to cup his jaw and pull him in for a deeper kiss.

All the nerves had been worth it. All the pain and suffering he’d gone through – it was all worth it just for that moment alone, when Y/N had to press him back a bit, a breathless laugh escaping her lips as she took in greedy gulps of air, but put her forehead against his, not straying far from his touch.

“I love you, husband.”

His cheeks hurt from so much smiling. “I love you, wife.”

They didn’t get to stay in the small bubble for long as people were stepping up, congratulating them, and pulling them in embraces from left to right.

The revelry slowly moved outside where drinks and food flowed without stopping. Slow melodies turned into fast foot-stomping beats, as people twirled and danced, celebrating the union between two of Baldur’s Gate’s heroes.

It was during a moment of reprieve when Y/N was chugging down glass after glass of water and champagne, Astarion following suit with some blood, when his parents came up to them, a small, yet intricate box in their hands.

The frame was of old oak, no doubt, scuffed at the edges and corners, while the top of it was engraved with a whole flora and fauna piece, but that didn’t matter. He’d said them being at the ceremony would be enough of a gift and that him and Y/N didn’t need anything, yet here the two elves were.

“Don’t even start, my Star,” his mother interrupted Astarion’s rant before he could even go on one. “There was no way we would’ve come empty-handed to your wedding. Besides, we think this might be of great interest to you two. And of use”

Gently, as if the box might crumble if touched any harder, the older elf opened it. Inside, laid on green velvet sat two golden bracelets, their visage moulded like wreaths of leaves and budding flowers.

They were handmade, that was certain, and ancient if his eye for jewels and jewellery didn’t deceive him. And it rarely did. But the oddest bit was the sensation it radiated as if it was imbued by vibrating energy, barely contained in the circlets.

“Could it really be – but no. That is only a legend,” Halsin’s and Gale’s eyes were wide as they beheld what lay in the box as the two had snuck up on the group and shadowed behind them. The druid gave Astarion’s parents a bewildered gaze. “How in the worlds did you come by this?”

“Let’s just say, you are not the only ones with connections.” His father threw Halsin a mischievous smile, but Astarion didn’t like that.

“And the cost for such a thing?”

His mother smiled. “My dear, you talk like your skill of words and stealing didn’t come from somewhere. We might be old, but that doesn’t mean we cannot have adventures of our own.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting this moment,” Gale said, “but can we get back to the fact you have the True Love’s Curse sitting in that box.”

“The what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed, but no one bothered to answer as Gale went on.

“I can feel the magic.” The wizard laid a reverent palm above the bracelets but didn’t touch them. “The Weave… I’ve never felt something so strong. As if it could change the matter of the cosmos around us at any second.”

Astarion lifted a finger, just as confused as his love, pointing at the bracelets. “What exactly is this curse? And, I do apologise, mother, as we appreciate everything you've done for us, but why in the worlds did you think a curse would be a great gift?”

“True Love’s Curse is simply the name,” Halsin said. “It’s an old elven legend of two lovers – one forever meant to walk the dark, the other meant for light. In the myth, they are so convinced they are soulmates and meant to be, they create two bracelets, symbols for their loves, imbued with a mirroring spell, but not just any average enchantment. It gives the nightwalker the ability to walk in the sun, but there is a cost – if the other person is no true love, no soulmate, the nightwalker will succumb to the rays and perish forever.”

Y/N grimaced. “Seems quite harsh. And unfair.”

Astarion’s father closed the box. “It’s why it’s called True Love’s Curse. But if there is anything we all can learn from you two, is that love conquers all.”

Hope ignited in the vampire’s chest, as he accepted the box.

Could there really be a chance he would be able to live his life with Y/N by his side, and also live it in the sun?

He used to be scared of what the future held for him, especially what the future with Y/N would be like. He’d had his doubts – that she probably didn’t actually love him. How she was with him only for pity or to use his body like so many others had before – but those no longer existed. She’d meticulously shattered every single brick of the wall that was his mistrust and built a castle of love in his heart. If what Astarion’s parents said was true, he had nothing to worry about – Y/N had been ready to walk her life in darkness with him and not asked anything in return apart from his devotion.

But he pushed the thoughts of the bracelets, of the True Love’s Curse, to the side as he was pulled in a dance by Dalyria, then her girlfriend, and at some point, even Lae’Zel allowed him to lead her in a slow waltz before once again returning to Y/N’s side. His rightful place

His arms wove around her waist, while her cheek leaned to rest against his chest. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Astarion pressed a kiss to Y/N’s head. “I don’t know what I might have done in a previous life, but whatever it was, it had to be something exceedingly good for me to end up with you.”

She hummed in contentment. “You deserve all that is kind in this world, my love. I am the least of it.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her she was his whole world, but instead, he closed his eyes too and smiled, relishing in the love. He did deserve good. He deserved all that was kind. It was time Astarion finally embraced it, and if that was Y/N in his arms, he would hold on a bit tighter then.

Hours later they stood alone by the cliffside, a slight breeze ruffling their hair as they waited for the sun to fully rise, the gardens empty, their house as well, as the wedding party had ended, leaving people satiated and tipsy on their way home.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Astarion asked. “What if they were wrong?”

“Then I have the cloak right here, and all the shutters have already been closed at the house.” She took his hand in hers, the bracelet clicking against his.

She didn’t try to convince him, give him false hope of how it would work, because not everything in life did. Not everything was perfect and not everything was supposed to be perfect. Of course, he would be devastated, if the True Love’s Curse was not real. But Astarion also knew he’d never be alone in it. He’d have Y/N by his side, as he always had. She wasn’t going anywhere and that was enough.

As the sun rose, the sky turning from a deep blue to pink, then orange and red, Astarion took in a deep breath. Then – on the first day as a married man – the first rays of a new day touched him for the first time in four years.

A tear rolled down his face, scarlet eyes not daring to stray away from the stunning view that was the dawn and greeted the sun like a long-lost friend.

Y/N gave him the widest smile ever, a match to the one she’d sported when seeing him by the altar. “Where to first, my love? We have the whole world for the taking.”

He looked at her, cupping her face. “First, to home. And then – to the very edge of the universe.”

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: I've re-written this whole thing like 3 different times because I just couldn’t get it right, but now I feel like this is how it's meant to be :) I do have like extra 8k words of stuff I might release as smaller fics set around these two specific versions of the characters. Let me know if you'd like that or want to be tagged in future fics :)

I might edit this at some point a bit more. English is not my first language, so I need time to step away, before I can see additional mistakes.

Please don't repost on other platforms without specific written consent! That is called plagiarism

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zombiedumbie · 5 months

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heart-shaped box

hi everybody! i'm back with posting stuff. i finished my final paper (i still need to make a presentation, but that's the easy part), this paper made me tired of writing, so I didn't post this before, sorry! and i'm having quite a week lol (just for example, one of the things that happened to me was that i had my scalp sutured!)

~1.2k words

from this post. a lots of fluff, A LOT, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF. no use of pronouns. organs (heart). mentions of Law's backstory and light novel.

Hey, Cora…

Law's slender fingers hovered over your chest with the same delicacy he would use to sheath the blade of his own sword with the thin blue layer of his ability. He kept it at a reasonable distance, as if trying to sense the vibration of your pulsating heart in the air. The only thing breaking the silence in the room was his breath, but your heartbeats raced into your eardrums, making the place sound louder than it should.

Both of you sat cross-legged, facing each other in a room separate from the rest of the… guests.

Law wanted it to be just you and him, no one else. You were outlaws, without the right to a traditional marriage, whatever was traditional for both of you; that's why he wanted to do it still in Wano, away from the eyes of the world.

The marriage that usually involved you, your partner, the Government, and God would this time be confined between the two of you. But you insisted; after all, you wanted to share this joy with your friends, and with Wano closed, there weren't many risks of this information leaking.

"Don't you think this happiness should be just between you and me?" Law lifted his hat and scratched his head, looking seriously at you.

"Don't you think we'll have other kinds of happiness that will be just between us?" With your response, he only hid his eyes behind the brim of his hat.

Law must have been worried about the possibility of the Straw Hat crew showing up and ruining everything. In the end, he agreed, but on the condition that the two of you had this moment alone.

You took his wrist with both hands and pulled his hand towards you, your fingers touching the kimono while his palm rested on your chest with hesitation.

"Law…"

"Are you sure?" He murmured and lifted his eyes from your chest to your face; that golden gaze was unwavering, covered with a layer of uncertainty, though. His fingers trembled, perhaps out of insecurity or the weakness of removing his own heart.

You didn't say anything, just pulled him into a kiss; your thumb stroked just below his eyes, the skin warming under your digits with each second you kept your lips pressed together. That was a perfect confirmation for him. When you separated, you smiled at him and turned your back to Law.

"You already took yours", he laughed lightly.

"Not as if it's difficult to put it back", he replied, and you looked at him over your shoulder. "Room."

Law tilted you slightly down; his arm was around your torso, and his open hand was on the upper part of your chest to hold you. You embraced his arm and took a deep breath, letting your body relax. "Are you ready?" He asked, the phalanges of his fingers stroking your back calmly; you nodded and closed your eyes.

"Mes", he whispered and tapped the bottom of his hand on your back, on the left side. You felt your body weaken before the light blue box fell from your chest; he was skillful in catching your heart with the hand that was on your back.

You gasped for air; Law sat you upright as your body adjusted. That, in the hands of your fiancé, beating faintly, was your heart, out of your chest, right in front of you. The idea was so absurd that you would refuse to believe it if you didn't know about Law's powers and hadn't seen them before.

You lowered your kimono and felt your chest; there was now an empty, square space, open; you felt like you could pass your hand through it, but you didn't want to test it due to the nauseating sensation of just feeling the hole.

"Are you okay?" He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, his eyes once again staring at you with the same rigidity; your gaze fell to your heart in his hand. You just nodded.

Law nodded too and placed your heart on the small table next to you, right next to his, on top of a cloth. You sighed, watching the two hearts beating at different rhythms, slightly different in size, but still, two hearts.

They were fragile but valuable, pumping the blood that magically flowed through your veins, even outside your bodies; it was even a bit mesmerizing to watch them, but Law didn't seem very surprised, after all, he had seen at least a hundred of them.

Law gently picked up his own heart, placing it in the palm of his hand. He turned it as if he found the best position, something you didn't think would matter, but he was a perfectionist, so you didn't bother saying anything. Your mouth went dry when you swallowed, and he approached, his eyes on yours again, looking for any sign of hesitation to stop immediately.

"Ready?" He asked in a whisper, and you were so excited that you just nodded.

The man took a breath and exhaled with deliberate slowness, his hands approaching your chest carefully. The small light blue box holding the heart fit so perfectly into the hole in your chest that you wondered if that wasn't yours; he stopped halfway, looking at you.

You responded with a smile, enough to remind him that this was as symbolic as exchanging rings and could be undone as easily; but you still accepted his idea without even asking questions, without asking for a ring or laughing at his idea—a smile enough to remind him that you understood all the symbolism and importance of this and that you accepted who he was, no matter what. With that, he finished pushing the box into your chest, closing the hole and restoring the skin as magically as it was removed.

The sensation was strange; it was like having two hearts in the same place. You could still feel your own heart pounding frantically, while you also felt Law's heart inside the chest, beating against your ribs, settling against your lung, beating as rapidly as yours, not in the same rhythm, but in the same frequency.

"T-This is… funny", you said with a smile, your hand on the place where Law's heart now resided.

With trembling hands, you held the organ ripped from you, beating rapidly against its confinement; the small light blue capsule was somewhat gelatinous and a bit smooth, seemed very malleable, but at the same time resistant.

"Relax", Law whispered to you, the corners of his lips curving upwards gently. "Let me help you", he asked, adjusting the small box in your hands, turning it, pointing to the left side. "These are your right atrium and pulmonary artery, they should be turned to your left, so they will fit correctly", he pointed as he spoke, and you just nodded.

With the tips of his fingers under your hand, he guided you to the hole in his chest, where the box fit perfectly. When you looked at him, he was smiling, not the same smile he gave when he was boasting or teasing someone, it was a genuine smile of happiness, one that you saw a few times but loved every time.

You felt like crying when you fitted the box containing your heart in the place that would reside for the rest of your life, where you lived for so long, in the core of the person you loved the most. When the skin covered the hole in, now, your husband's chest, you felt as if you were receiving the most intimate hug you had ever received—and could never receive again.

You hugged him, feeling the warmth of your tears warming your face; Law also cried silently, but unlike the tears of cold nights, there was a warm feeling in his chest, maybe from the new location of his heart, but the joy you felt was genuine.

His head rested on your shoulder, you felt his heart gradually calming down in your chest as he enveloped you in a warm hug, pulling you into his lap.

Law could still feel the cold of that night, how the snowstorm blurred his vision, the sound of the lines cutting the ground, how humid that chest was. He felt like he had spent all the years that followed trapped in that memory, walking through the forest, crying desperately while looking for the nearest town. However, in recent times, the snowstorm seemed weaker.

Until he reached the nearest town, right when Doflamingo finally hit the ground. When he found himself comfortable in the bed of a kind stranger, he finally understood the reasons for his savior. And when he drank that warm soup after years of hunger, his heart was finally at home, protected by your ribs.

"Law…" you whispered. "I love you."

Your now husband (husband!) put his hands on your shoulders and pulled away from you a little, so you could see his face; there was a smile so wide that his eyes closed, and you could only smile back at the sight. "I love you."

… I'm home.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #law one piece #one piece fanfic #law fanfic #law x reader #zombiedumbie writing

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

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☀️ with evan buckley "I would choose you over anyone." { keeping the relationship a secretl and catching eyes in a crowded room} pleaseeee

Fire Hazard.

l. Catching eyes in a crowded room + m. Keeping the relationship a secret + 17. "I would choose you over anyone."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first buck fic!! love him so much, he's an angel :((

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader

Age Rating - 16+

Warnings - none!! just tooth rotting fluff x

Word Count - 710

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

It's absolutely against the rules.

There's a strict no fraternisation policy in place in every firehouse. It's there for a reason, after all. The city can't have all of its firefighters totally distracted because they're in love with each other.

Buck has never been one to follow the rules.

The minute he saw you, he knew he was in trouble. You cruised into the 118 with your sun kissed skin and gentle eyes and he knew there was no turning back. You flashed that million dollar smile in his direction and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. Yeah, he was screwed.

Little did he know, the feelings were very mutual. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, your knees almost gave way. He looks at you like you're the only girl in the world. You feel like it, when you're with him.

At the 118, they call you Hazard. No one knows the meaning of the nickname besides Buck. Your little secret.

It came about one Friday morning shift. You weren't supposed to be working that day, but Hen called in sick, so Bobby asked you to cover. You were actually planning on going to the farmer's market, but you diverted your journey and made your way to the firehouse.

You weren't exactly dressed for work. You were wearing a pale yellow floral sundress that fell mid thigh, paired with sneakers and sunglasses. Buck took one look at you and almost passed out.

"Thank you so much for coming at such short notice. You're the best," Bobby says as you walk across the floor.

"It's no problem," you smile, making your way upstairs to grab some water.

Everyone goes back to their tasks, but Buck's eyes are glued to you. You look at him through your lashes, and he abandons cleaning the truck to run after you.

"Hey, you," he grins.

"Hey! You're in a good mood today," you wink.

"Well a pretty girl just walked into the room, so."

"Really? Where?"

You look around while laughing, and he shoves you playfully.

"You're an idiot," he chuckles.

You look at each other for a moment, before you realise what you're wearing.

"Well, I guess I better change," you tell him, turning to leave.

"Wait!"

Buck grabs your wrist and spins you back around, pulling you into him.

"Can you just give me one more minute to admire you in this dress?"

You look down at your feet, slightly taken aback by his boldness. Buck is not one to ever hold back, but he seems to with you. If only you knew it's because he's worried he'll accidentally tell you how he feels - or worse.

He uses his thumb to tilt your chin up so you're looking at him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, aware of the other people on the level below. "Most beautiful girl in the world."

"In the entire world?" you tease.

"Are you kidding?" he asks sincerely. "I would choose you over anyone."

He leans in without hesitation and presses a kiss to your lips. It's sweet and chaste and a promise of so much more. When he pulls away, you're both grinning like idiots.

"I've been waiting to do that since the first day I met you," he confesses.

"Well I've been waiting for you to do that since the first day you met me," you giggle.

He kisses you again quickly, before grabbing a hold of your hand.

"Wear this dress again tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?"

"When I take you out on a real date."

You aim a beaming smile at him, and his heart skips a beat.

"Fine, since you asked so nicely," you wink. "I can't wait."

You lean up to kiss him softly. You both can't get enough.

"If I knew that this dress is all it would take for you to ask me out, I would have worn it months ago," you laugh.

"You walked in and I thought I was gonna burst into flames. You're a fire hazard, woman."

You shove at his arm jokingly, smiling as you do it.

"Well it's a good job I'm a firefighter, huh?" you tease.

No one needs to know how you got your nickname. It's your little secret.

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gepardling · 1 year

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late night R&R w/ gepard.

desc. : Gepard returns home late after his patrols, but the last thing he expects to see is you still awake, let alone your fingers stuffed in your sopping cunny... (wc : 2.7k)

tags / cw : nsfw, afab!reader, lots of kissing, tooth rotting fluff, sex, lots n lots of sex, cunnilingus, size kink (?), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!), praise kink, pussydrunk!gepard, masturbation, lil bit of overstimulation, petnames (baby, good boy, geppie, my love), not proofread! i wrote this based on vibes alone

It was shameful how something as innocent as your kisses could get Gepard all hot beneath the collar. Your kisses were gentle, quick, and very, very numerous. They were passionate, fiery and filled with your love for him. They were supportive, caring and understanding. Everything that Gepard could ask for, he found in your kiss.

That is, of course, until he remembers where else those lips of yours kissed him last week…

STOP. A blistering heat creeps up Gepard's neck as he tries to mentally will those invasive thoughts to go away. To focus on the task at hand. To finish his patrols and ensure the safety of the people of Belobog. But when he thinks of you all alone at home his heart goes soft, and his mind begins to wander again.

He thinks about your gentle touch, your innocent doe-like eyes, your soft hair, your plush thighs, your pillowy breasts…

…

Okay, that's enough now. Gepard tugs at his collar, a pathetic attempt to dissipate the heat locked under his uniform. Just one more block. One more block and he could return home to you and your awaiting arms. It was getting harder to focus by the minute, with Gepard's mind becoming clouded by thoughts of you. He hadn't even realised he had walked straight home on autopilot until he was about to open the front door.

His hand hesitated on the doorknob. He didn't even finish his patrols, but it was so late already. You must be fast asleep by now. Part of him wanted to turn around and finish his duties but… Gepard felt guilty. He had been very busy lately, working late nights and often not returning home until the next day. At least he spends less time on the frontlines, but even so it doesn't help his workload much.

With a heavy heart, Gepard pushes open the front door and steps inside. The lights are already off, so he figures you must be in bed. The clanking of his armour makes him wince, sounding much louder in the quiet house than he first anticipated. Carefully, he removes his boots and gloves, leaving them in their respective spots. He decides to retreat to the kitchen for a glass of water before bed.

But Gepard stills in his tracks when he hears a faint noise. The softest of mewls peeling beneath the crack of your shared bedroom door. His immediate thought was to check if you're having a bad dream. But the closer he inches to the door, the more flustered he becomes. When he stops in front of it, the realisation fully sets in. First of all, you were not having a bad dream. And second of all, you weren't asleep at all.

He needs a moment to prepare himself before he opens that door, knowing what awaits him on the other end doesn't settle his nerves in any way. It's not that he was scared but you always had this way of making his heart race, to challenge his fight-or-flight response. He takes a moment to still the thudding in his chest, to try and ignore the way his pants feel a lot tighter than they did 5 minutes ago. But what he hears next makes his head spin,

"Geppie… Ahn-... A-Are you home yet?" your voice weakly calls to him through the door. Shit…

He opens the door slowly, and the sight makes his breath hitch. You're lying on your shared bed, 2 fingers stuffed deep in your cunny and your thumb desperately rolling your puffy clit. You weren't wearing your usual nightdress, but rather one of his shirts, bunched up around your tits. It was almost shameless, the way you held eye contact with him, desperately gasping with teary eyes.

For a moment he was glued in place, eyes fixated on the motion of your fingers, the way your arousal pooled around your ass on the sheets. You stop your lewd actions and move to sit up. But then he found himself moving, moving way too fast, and almost crashing onto his knees at the foot of the bed. In one swift motion, he scoots you forward on the bed and nestles his face into your soft thighs, quietly exhaling against your skin.

"I'm sorry I'm late, my love," he begins.

"I missed you, baby…" you reply, wrapping your arms around his head and pulling him in to hug you.

"Missed you too," he breathes out, muffled by the skin of your tummy. The sensation tickles, and you giggle a little before tilting his head upwards.

"Geppie… You seem exhausted…" you tut, gently raking your nails across his scalp. Almost instantly, he relaxes in your embrace. The small act makes his nerves melt away.

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes closing momentarily. But when he opens them again, the light in them changes to something a little… bolder. "Are we going to ignore the state I just found you in?"

You gape your mouth a few times, probably akin to a goldfish. A deep blush crept up your neck, and your loins felt a little bit hotter than before. You honestly forgot about that for a moment, being caught up in Gepard's emotional state. You bit your lip before replying, "I- uhm… It's nothing. You're tired, we should go to sleep."

"Don't wanna neglect you again…" he whines, nuzzling against you. Before you could tell him otherwise, he starts trailing gentle kisses down your stomach, onto your thigh. Lips hovering so close to where you know you need him, but…

"Gepard… It's fine. You don't have to- Ah..!"

He latches his lips onto your clit, and begins to gently suck the tiny bud. You subconsciously find yourself gripping his hair, pulling his face closer to your pussy. He lets out a groan at the sensation, the act sending sinful vibrations across your womanhood. He brings a hand up to your clit and pops his mouth off, darting his tongue out to meet your hole. He starts off slow, gently licking your mound, before nearly stuffing his face into your cunny to fuck you with his tongue.

The movement is sudden and it has you jerk forwards, letting out a loud moan at the feeling of his mouth on you. The longer he goes, the sloppier he gets, making a mess of his spit and your arousal across your thighs. You're nearly folded double, arms holding his head to keep your grip on reality. The sound of him eating pussy like a man starved is obscene, and only adds to your moment of bliss.

But when you start to see a light, what starts off as a white pinprick in your vision grows to a blinding flash. The knot in your core that builds and builds suddenly snaps and you come undone with a hoarse cry. You fall backwards onto the bed as Gepard helps you to ride out your high, placing gentle kittenlicks on your cunny. But when be doesn't stop there and keeps going, your post-orgasm bliss is interrupted.

"W-Wait… Geppie, what are you- Ah… Ahn!" Your voice cracks feebly and you try to push his head off your overstimulated clit, but your arms are too weak to make any difference. You try closing your thighs and scooting back on the bed, but Gepard has you locked in place. He wraps one hand around your thigh and places the other on your abdomen, lightly pushing down.

The sensation is far too much, and you're left arching your back and gripping the sheets behind you. You bite your lips in a poor excuse to try and die down the sounds bubbling from your chest, and subconsciously buck your hips against his face. All coherent thoughts are torn from your mind as you reach your second climax, Gepard's name ripping from your throat.

When he sits back up, his chin is practically glistening with your juices, and his breathing is ragged. A crimson blush is spread across his cheeks, nose and ears. You could swear he has hearts in his eyes as he looks at you with the most adoring, innocent gaze, something almost unbelievable given the acts he just committed.

"D-Did I do well?" He huffs out, almost somewhat embarrassed to ask. You nod your head and thread your fingers through his hair.

"Yes, baby… Did so good f'me…" your reply comes out slurred.

Gepard places one more kiss on the inside of your thighs before he stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, the sight alone making you press your thighs together. A new warmth bloomed between them, but you were too shy to admit that, already feeling guilty about keeping your lover awake. He discards his uniform and gets back on the bed, taking his place next to you with an arm draped over your middle.

You hum, turning to face him before planting a kiss on his nose. But one kiss turns into many, and before you know it, Gepard's flustered gaze meets yours. Gently, you trail your hand down his chest, coming to stop just above his member.

"You don't have to," he almost stammers, but you press a kiss to his lips to silence him.

"It's my turn to take care of you, Gepard." You whisper against his lips as your hand finally meets his throbbing length. He's already so worked up, just from eating you out, immediately letting out a gasp as you thumb his tip. Tiny pearls of pre bead at his tip, which you eagerly swipe away as you massage the head of his cock. Your hand drags up and down his length tantalisingly slow as you press open mouthed kisses against his neck.

Gepard can barely keep himself sane, small gasps echoing into the night. You move to sit over him, straddling his hips on either side with your thighs. You continued stroking his length, fingers dancing across his girth as you supported your weight with one hand on his chest. His expressions were absolutely divine, he looked ethereal. The moonlight cast a halo over his golden hair, your good boy taking all the love you lathered over his cock.

"You're so pretty like this, Gepard…" you breathed out, hand increasing the speed with which you stroked him, drawing out more and more cries of bliss from his lungs. Seeing the way he reacted to you, and you alone, was enough to make your heart flutter and pussy clench around nothing. You maintained your pace, unfaltering, until with a groan Gepard released white ribbons of cum into your hand, over himself and the sheets.

"Such a good boy for me," you whisper, leaning down to place a few more open mouthed kisses on his lips. He whines and meets you halfway, reciprocating your sweet love with no hesitation. You can feel his half-hard cock press into your thigh, and he does too. His hands grab your hips and slowly push and pull your folds across his length, still not quite satisfied. You gasp and moan when the head of his cock catches onto your clit, with every drag of your soft body over his lean one.

It takes all your willpower to push yourself up off of him, before reaching down to align his tip with your entrance. The blunt head rests snugly against your hole, and the size makes you hesitate for a moment. Gepard gives your hip a reassuring squeeze, and you slowly begin to sink down on his cock. The stretch burns, a dull ache reverberating through your lower half as you try to fit him all inside. Crystalline tears bead at the corners of your eyes, and Gepard immediately takes notice of them.

"We don't have to-," he begins, worry laced in his tone, but you cut him off swiftly before he can pull out.

"I want to…" as you grab at his free hand, guiding it towards your clit, gently rubbing it in slow circles. Your pussy clenches around him, and you both gasp at the sudden tightness, but eventually your walls relax. Gepard was worried he might cum prematurely at the sight of you trying to stuff yourself with his cock, the way your pussy fluttered around him each time you sank a little lower was almost too much for his brittle resolve. Bit by bit the stretch eases as you seat yourself fully on his cock, and he lets out a low groan when it disappears entirely from his vision.

You both still momentarily, attempting to catch your breath and get used to the way he splits you open. Then, you slowly rise, leaving only the tip inside before dropping back down. The head bumping your cervix is almost enough to cripple you with pleasure, he's so big it's unavoidable. You set a pace for yourself, riding his dick with vigor. The burn in your thighs felt good, each hump rewarded with the grind of his head against your spongy spot that oozes the love juice out of you.

Gepard's jaw goes slack with pleasure, head tilted back into the fluffy pillow. His hands had an iron grip on your hips, helping you along and stuffing himself deeper into your core with every thrust. The pressure was building up again, it was blistering hot, getting closer and closer to your release but not quite making it. It's messy. It's sticky. It's wet. With every rise of your hips he can clearly see the white ring at the base of his member. Both your mixed arousals coating his abdomen and leaving dainty strings in its wake.

The ache in your thighs had started to overpower the pleasure, and Gepard noticed the way your pace faltered. Despite being barely coherent himself, Gepard could tell enough to pinpoint that you must be getting tired. He couldn't really think straight in the moment either, but his natural instinct was to help you out, yeah? In one swift move, he has you underneath him, one hand pushing your thigh up to your chest and the other holding your wrists together, tugging you into him with every thrust.

The sudden change startled you, Gepard was never really this forward to begin with. But you couldn't deny the way you loved to be at his mercy for once. This new position squeezed your tits together even more, and every thrust dug deeper into your core. You turn your gaze upwards and meet Gepard's eyes, who is absolutely drunk on your cunt right now. There probably wasn't a thought in that little head of his, other than railing you into next Tuesday.

The way he groans and whines makes the room heat up a little, slurring out little please's and thank you's. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find it incredibly endearing, his worship and praise for you was unending and overflowing. You could barely keep up with his pace too, leaving you a mewling mess sprawled beneath him. Just a few more thrusts until you'd-...

With a sudden cry, Gepard's name dancing on your lips, you come undone once more that night. Your throat was hoarse by now, kiss-swollen and bitten lips pursing together pathetically to silence your cries. The way you clenched around him led Gepard towards his tipping point as well, thrusting one - two - three more times before he buried himself as deep inside your cunny as possible.

Ribbon after ribbon of his cum shoots into your womb, and Gepard rides out his high with shallow grinds against your pelvis. Your already-overstimulated clit burned at the feeling, but you were too breathless to let out a peep. Gepard stills in your cunt for a moment to catch his breath, "S-So good f'me, you feel so good," he babbles incoherently. When all is said and done, he pulls back and sees the way his cum spills from your messy folds.

It takes everything in him to will his dick down again. "... Gepard?" Your innocent little voice bores it's way into his mind.

"I'm… uhm…" he coughs awkwardly before his hands find your hips again. "S-Sorry…" he stammers. Your eyes widen in alarm. That can't be…

"W-Wait what are you- Gepa-AH!"

(It's safe to say you didn't get much sleep that night)

i kinda like this interpretation of geppie 🥺🥺 soft n shy but sometimes his more duty-driven side comes out in the bedroom... I imagine you've been together 4 a while so he's more comfortable doing these tings ♥︎

#gepard smut #gepard x you #gepard x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #gepard landau #gepard hsr #♥︎ | milky writes

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