#things were going well until i added color
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(i feel like i need to let you guys know that I HAVE to listen to the song on repeat 4 a few times to really get me going for this fic 😔)
also i know the ending kinda sucks Im SORRY
Into You ✦
Sam had texted you to dress nicely since he was taking you to a nice restaurant. It's so sweet of him to do this even though you forced him out of your life for 6 years.
Luckily, you had packed a few nice dresses in case something special came up. This was definitely something special. The color of the dress was plain but had a cute pattern all over it. You did your hair in whatever way you thought looked the best and added a few other details like rings, earrings, and a necklace after finishing your makeup.
To top it all off, you sprayed your favorite perfume, and you were done getting ready. You had a couple of minutes to wait until Sam came by to pick you up. You spent that short amount of time talking pictures and becoming a little nervous about how this is gonna go.
Your mom came knocking at your door, smiling. “He’s here,” She entered, admiring how beautiful her little girl looked. “You look so gorgeous, my love.” A tear nearly fell from her eye. You smile softly to her and give her a gentle hug. “Thank you, mom. I'll see you later.”
You went outside to find Sam with a bouquet of flowers. “Looks like someone really outdid herself on the whole look, huh?” He huffed a chuckle, totally checking you out. “You're the one who told me to dress nice.” You say with a twirl while walking over to him so he could see the whole outfit.
“Well, you listened.” Sam smiled down at you and passed over the flowers. “Oh, Sam. I love th—”, “ah-ah. they're for your mom.” He cut you off, making you look to the side, then back to him with confusion. “Um, what?” You asked before he shook his head with a laugh. “Just messin’ with you, n/n.” Oh, so you leave for a few years and all of a sudden he thinks hes a comedian..
“Come on, let's go.” He reached his arm around you, leading to his car. This is so weird.. Sam has never been the type to be so touchy, talkative, or confident. He really was like a new person.
The car ride was anything but quiet and awkward. He started all the conversations, as well as kept them going. “A year after you left, I realized how big of a loser I was. Weird, too.” He cringed at the memory of how he used to be. “I was so pale, too. I genuinely looked so unwell. So, I decided to go out more to get tanned.”
He had worked in construction for a while so he could have more color to his skin, and it worked really well. He also told you about how he started working out to not be scrawny. The brown hair with blondish tints was actually because he didn't like the black and blue anymore. Eye makeup? How child like.
Listening to the reasons why he changed was different than you expected. Way different.
Dinner went well. You told him about your studies and life after graduating. Sam made sure to pay attention at all times. You also learned that your cousin wasn't lying about so many girls liking him. “I went out with a few, had sex with one, and regretted it. They didn't like me for who I am. They just liked me cause I stopped being so emo.” He laughed at it.
“Did you like them for who they were?” He rolled his eyes at your question. “Well, duh. I don't go out with girls just cause they're cute. All those girls I dated, I got to really know before, and it's not like I went out with all the ones who wanted me.” He sips his drink, “Some of them were skanks, and I didn't wanna catch anything. And some of them were just.. not good at all, yknow? Cant believe some girls think being rude is flirting.”
“Did you start looking more for personality than looks after Alyssa?” You crack a joke, hoping that he doesn't take it the wrong way. “Yep. Most definitely.” He replied with that charming smile.
Dinner was mostly catching up. After paying, he took you to his house. Lets just say one thing led to another, and you were arguing about how you just up and left like that.
“You promised! You promised that you'd call and visit, but you lied! If you wanted me to disappear from your life, you could have fucking said that!” He sort of shouted. “Sam, I didn't want to erase you from my life. I just wanted to live a little!”
“That doesn't make any sense. You probably just didn't care about me anymore after meeting new people. Look, its fucked up, but you can say it if you want. After all, it shouldn't matter anymore cause you're here now, right?” He says sarcastically.
“I waited for you to call me for 6 years! almost a whols decade, y/n!” He crossed his arms. “I don't know if it ever occurred to you that the phone works both ways, Sam.” You yell at him.
“No, dont pull that shit on me because I did call. I tried, but you know what? You changed your god damn number.” He sounded so mad and frustrated. “Do not play with me right now. Just say it already.”
“Okay! I stopped caring! Im sorry, Sam. That was stupid of me. I was like, your only friend. I know!” You replied and put yourself on his arms for a hug. As much as he wanted to push away, he wasnt like that. At least he wasn't gonna be like that after you apologized.
he sighed, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on your shoulder. “I know you're sorry. At least you're here now.” His big hands slide up and down your back. “Missed you so much.”
You sniffled into his chest and mumbled out the same. “Let me tell you something.” He says and sits you on the couch. “If I wasn't in love with you, I wouldn't have cared thaf you left. I was so used to people leaving already, so it wouldn't have mattered. but you had me so head over heels. that's the biggest reason I was mad.”
You sort of knew he had a little crush on you, but in love? “You're lying.” He shook his head. “Why would I lie?” Fuck, thats true. “To get back at me, maybe.” You sigh. “Sam, im gonna be honest, I never had a whole crush on you, but I did think about us being a couple sometimes. When you were with Alyssa, I was thinking about how I could treat you so much better.”
“Then why didn't you? I would have said yes. Didn't you realize how often I'd rather spend time with you than her? I wanted it to be you.” He spoke softly, tangling yours and his fingers together. “I've never gotten over you. I look for you in every girl I go out with. Whether it's personality or if she has the slightest resemblance..”
Okay, Sam.. what the fuck. but also, aw! “That's.. kind of weird, but sweet in a way.” You say with a giggle. “Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged, accidentally looking down at your boobs. “Um, sorry.” He looked away and blushed.
No matter how much he changed, he was never gonna fully get rid of that shy guy in him. “It's okay.” You laughed at him and decided to stroke his cheek with your hand. “You've always been so cute when you blush.”
“Yeah, okay.” He says in a deepened, sarcastic voice and rolls his eyes. “Its just. blushing. Nothing about that should be amusing.” , “But it is!” Your hand went to mess with his curly hair.
“You look really good with long hair, too.” You keep complimenting him on his appearance until he rushed in for a kiss. His hands went to your hips, rubbing up and down until they got a little more nosy and rubbed your thighs, making you shiver.
“Sam, what are you doing..” You mumbled against his lips. “I couldn't hold back anymore. I needed to do something.” He mumbled back and pecked your lips one more time before shifting to your neck. “Sam, what if someone sees—” That made him smile against you. “Silly, no one's gonna see. I live alone.”
—
One thing led to another, and now he had two fingers in you on his bed. So much happened too fast. You couldn't remember what even led to this. “Sam, faster, please.” You whimper, holding onto his forearm. “Why, you don't like me going slow? Don't like when I'm being nice?” He whispered into your ear, speeding up the pace just a little bit.
“No, I—,” What were you supposed to say? You were already at a loss of words, getting so stimulated by his long fingers. “Can't say anything else, baby?” He smirked and shook his head. “It's okay. Just let me make you feel good.” He removed his fingers and put them on his mouth, sucking off all the cum you left.
He let his cock free from his boxers and slid it on between your folds, causing a moan to leave your mouth. “You like that?” He questioned, not expecting you to react like that. You nod your head at Sam, letting your hand find its way to his cock and inserting it into you for him.
Sam let a breathy moan escape him as you did this. “Shit, you couldn't wait?” He grips your hips, swallowing. “So tight. It's better than I ever imagined.” He groaned, moving in and out slowly. “Can I go faster, please? pleasepleaseplease.” Every plead was said with every thrust.
You nod your head, keeping your eyes on his face. He looked so good in the dim light. All sweaty, eyebrows knitted together. “Sam, ‘m gonna cum.” you scratch at his back. “yeah? so do it then. cum all over my cock, s’okay, pretty.” his cock went deeper inside you.
just a couple more thursts, and it was over for you. He edged himself for a little while so he could make you finish 2 more times before he slid in between your folds and came all over them. the way he would only whimper when be was close was so cute.
He stayed lying on your chest for a short while as you twirled his locks in your fingers. “Please dont leave. I can't lose you again.” Was he asking you to move all the way back here again? The first thought that came to your mind was yes, but then you went deeper into thought, thinking about your friends back over where you lived now.
“I'll..” You pause, looking at him. Look at you with his pretty eyes. “stay.”
Great.
—
Timeskipping to a year later, he asked you to be his official girlfriend and to move in with him. And of course you said yes! Life with Sam Monroe is perfect. Hes so sweet and gentle all the time, even when hes upset. Hes all you could ever ask for in a boyfriend.
—
tags: @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 @froggyfrip @geckoomoria @espinathena-17 @demieyesore @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @gallerygourmet @haydensprettyprincess 🎀
#Spotify#hayden christensen#sam monroe#life as a house#sam monroe x you#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe fanfiction#sam monroe smut#sam monroe imagine#anakin imagine#anakin skywalker smut#anakin smut#rots anakin#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker
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Every little thing you do - Part 6
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series master list
🥰So another part to this series, thank you so much for all your support and encouragement! It means the world ♥️ and as I take your feedback seriously, I can assure you Tommy will be looking for a housekeeper substitute 🤭
Word count: 3,138
Y/N prayed silently her dress would close, Ada suggested getting it slightly loose at certain places just in case, because overnight, her belly was showing and most of her clothes wouldn’t fit anymore. It was funny because it only looked as if she was bloated but it was enough for a zipper to break.
“You ready?” Polly asked just as she knocked on the door, stepping in right away. As usual, she looked so elegant in her attire.
“Her dress is beautiful Mrs. Gray.” Y/N’s grandma pointed out making Y/N blush, she then turned to Polly. “And you look stunning.”
Polly nodded acknowledging her compliment.
“I can’t believe I’m wearing this gown.” Y/N stated staring at her reflection in the mirror, she looked like a completely different person with her hair up in a simple but elegant hairstyle, make up in just the right places, accenting her features, and the dress fit like a glove. She had never had a dress like this.
“You need something else though.” Her grandma suggested, she looked beautiful in her attire too, the Shelby family were too kind to extend an invitation for her.
Opening her bag, Y/N frowned confused by what she meant, she had everything already.
“Your grandfather gave me these when we got married.” From a velvet pouch, she produced a pair of gorgeous diamond studs.
“I think these will look beautiful.” Polly encouraged, feeling a swept of love by the exchange.
Y/N on the other hand felt lost for words, to some it might be a small detail, but to her, the sentimental value it’s what weighted the most.
“These are meant to be wear on occasions like this, right?” She asked holding one of the earrings for her granddaughter while she hooked the other one.
“Looks like you’re all set then… let’s welcome the guests.” Polly added taking grandma’s purse to help her. “Everything’s going accordingly so far.”
The music filled the big room, people were dancing happily, champagne flowing, staff filling empty cups with booze and plates with appetizers. Y/N felt particularly mesmerized by the chandeliers catching the light beautifully and reflecting all around as if it was dancing as well.
Tommy insisted the party should take place in Arrow House, said it would be a good excuse to do a grand opening, so she immediately got busy to have everything ready. The place oozed luxury everywhere she looked, the most important names in the country RSVP’ed faster than she thought. Never in her wildest dreams she imagined how it would turn out, she spent so much time choosing flowers for the center pieces, napkins colors to go with the tablecloths, tableware as well as the menu, days of hard work paying off finally on this night and for a brief instant, she allowed herself to feel proud because she took care meticulously of everything.
“I’ll be back in a minute, need an ashtray.” Polly announced and took grandma by the arm to chat for a while.
Y/N was taking everything in, still not fully believing it was a reality.
“Johnny, get everyone in the kitchen.” He instructed. “Five minu-“ words got caught up in his throat as he took a double look to his left and found Y/N standing by herself next to the staircase.
Her hair was pinned up, framing her face so it was fully on display instead of hiding, the dress made her look gorgeous but the cherry on top was the glowing emanating from within her heart, pregnancy was suiting her well. He then noticed she opened and closed the handbag nervously.
She wasn’t the same girl that used to run with him a race at an open fiel until they reached the river. He let her win so many times… yet that girl was somehow still in her.
He had never seen her like that before. She was more beautiful than he imagined.
But as soon as the thought entered his mind, Tommy kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t think of her that way.
“Are you planning to give someone a heart attack?” He joked and took a few long strides to be at her side.
“I’m nervous,” she chuckled, “I’m the one having a heart attack.”
Turning around to face him, she felt her mouth going dry, the blue suit was a fabulous choice. It wasn’t traditional, but when she saw it at the tailor’s shop she knew Tommy had to wear it to the event and since she got a blank cheque, she added it to the account. He was so bloody handsome, but she thought that he looked even more that night. There, with a cocked smile and proud shining in his crystal eyes…
They stood there holding each other’s gazes, the people in the background fading away…
Until Johnny Dogs interrupted them.
“The boys are on their way Tom.” He nodded at Y/N. “Are we going, yeah?”
Tommy gave Y/N another look and she encouraged him with a smile to go.
He started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turning around he spoke; “Y/N you did an amazing job, thank you.”
Reaching his expectations was all Y/N wanted to achieve, to make him proud of her work. It was the way she knew in retribution to thank him for every little thing he did.
“And Johnny? Y/N told me she counted the paintings ey?” Tommy turned to give her wink. “So you better tell your kin they can’t steal anything or they’ll have to deal with a very pissed Y/N.”
Y/N gasped, of course she didn’t count the paintings. An evident blush covered her face and neck and she started shaking her head in embarrassment.
“Hey! That’s not true.” She tried to keep her manners, but her mind went back to when they were teenagers and her grandma discovered the two of them sneaking into the kitchen to get a slice of the pie she had baked and Tommy blamed it all on Y/N, the worst part is that her grandma believed him and scolded her granddaughter when it had been Tommy’s idea in the first place.
“Where are they, ey?” Tommy asked impatiently a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
“I’m telling you now, we got lost,” announced Arthur. “You really need to do a map, Thomas.”
“Right, boys you’re all here.” Tommy started in a warning tone.
The blinders gathered around him in a circle.
“Tonight it’s a fucking very important day, we’re celebrating the Arrow House grand opening.”
“Yeah, and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.” Interrupted John.
Tommy shot him a death stare. “Nevertheless… nevertheless, John… despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet.”
They were part of the guest list.
He made a pause and looked around to his men. “Now, for Y/N’s sake, nothing will go wrong. She has worked so fucking hard for everything you see tonight and the Shelby Institute. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”
“Tom?” Once more, John interrupted his brother.
“What?”
“What about snow?” Asked Isiah.
John replied something that Tommy couldn’t understand, but he felt his blood start boiling by their silly attitude.
“No, no, no.” He stood in front of the young blinder. “No cocaine.” Then pointing at his face, he repeated; “no cocaine. No sports.” He then moved to point at John. “No telling fortunes. No racing.” Walking back towards Finn, he continued. “No fucking sucking petrol of their fucking cars.”
He hated to admit it out loud, but he was nervous to. He wanted to fit in, he needed to blend in among the richest and more powerful people, to be one of them. To prove everybody that he had been able to claim a stair that was only reserved for those who were born in a crib made of gold.
Meanwhile, upstairs Y/N attended several guests, listening to the stories they were sharing about how much it would mean to them to donate and give back to the community. Some of them, Y/N learned were important politicians who wanted to show a good image to help them gain voters, others members of the aristocracy just wanted to show their wealthy off. Whatever reason they had, Y/N was excited to see some of the cheques they were writing right there for the institution, additional to a monthly donation they promised.
Finding Tommy among the guests, Y/N approached him to ask him if she could save the cheques in his office.
“Can we see this later?” He relief not even sending a glance in her direction, his eyes were fixed like daggers in someone.
As he moved around like a gazelle, about to chase his pry, Y/N noticed a group of women eating him with their eyes, looking him up and down, seizing his frame, biting their lips, probably wondering how would it feel to be with him….
Y/N felt like she was out of place, she shook her head and decided to ask Ada instead where she should keep the documents. She then excused herself for a moment, feeling like the happy bubble had been popped given Tommy’s cold attitude. He was never like this, he had never left her talking alone before, but he had been a bit off the last couple of days.
For some unknown reason.
Perhaps she had been creating a fantasy in her mind, yes he was a good man, but he also had an explosive temper when he wanted to, he snapped at people at the slightest provocation. Why would he treat her differently? Just because a she was pregnant?
A knock on the door disturbed the peace she just found, and without waiting to be asked to come inside, Tommy called her name.
“Y/N you’re needed downstairs.” Tommy informed her, but he knew her too damn well. When Ada told him that Y/N was taking a minute on her own, he knew she wasn’t comfortable about something.
“What happened?” He asked patiently. She shook her head, not wanting to make a scene. “Hey, hey.. come here.”
It was everything, her pregnancy, her nerves, the bloody hormones, mood swings, worry to make everything perfect… him.
“I hope you don’t take personally what happened earlier, I was looking for someone that wasn’t invited.” Tommy explained.
Y/N looked at him tentatively. She walked into the en-suite bathroom to wet a cloth and press it into the back of her neck, careful enough to not get a stain in the dress, he followed her steps and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. The familiarity and comfort between them was too personal.
“Is this why you’ve been acting distant the last couple of days?”
With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes, I act like this when I’m scared.”
Y/N turned around pondering into his words, giving him time and space to speak on his own terms.
“I need to make sure you’re away from this business. I don’t want you to get involved at all. Do you understand?”
“Tommy what’s happening?” It all made sense to her now, the secret phone calls, the late night drives, his mood.
“The less you know, the better.” He cleared his throat. “Promise me you won’t make something stupid.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, he was the one always making the bad decisions she wanted to say instead.
“You won’t get involved.” He was firm about his statement.
“Only if you promise to be safe.” Y/N retorted.
“I’ll try my best.” A soft smile played on his lips.
She mirrored the smile and followed him outside, to join their guest one more time.
“Mr. Shelby! This is a wonderful party.” Mrs. Lewis praised, she was the wife of a former major, a bit extravagant, she loved to show off. “And a beautiful house.”
“I appreciate your words. But all the credit goes to Y/N.”
“So the old wives tale is real huh? That babies come with a bunch of blessings.” She squinted her eyes happily at Y/N’s baby bump, then looked back at Tommy. “Congratulations! I wish this baby nothing but the best.”
Y/N opened her mouth to correct her, and clarify that Tommy wasn’t the father. But Tommy cut her out.
“Thanks, hopefully you’ll be able to help us with the fundraising.”
“I’ll tell family and friends, you can count on that Mr. Shelby.”
As the woman disappeared, Y/N turned her face around to look at him.
“Let people talk, they’re going to do it anyways.” He stated, then as a waiter passed by, he took a glass of whiskey from the tray. “Rule number two; never reveal the truth when they can barely deal with a half truth.”
“What’s number one?”
“Oh, I’d tell you… but then I’d have to kill you and I’d be kind of sad you know?” He winked at her and elegantly strode towards where the music band was playing to grab the microphone.
“Good evening everyone, thank you for joining us tonight. As some of you may know, the Shelby Foundation Institute will open doors in a couple of weeks, we’re sure with this project we’ll be able to help many many children in need, grant them the education their parents can’t afford and a safe environment to learn and develop the abilities that’ll will help them in a near future.” A round of applauses filled the room and Tommy thanked the guest with a small nod. “Your contribution is highly appreciated, it will allow us to complement and provide everything that’s needed. I can assure you, your money will be well spent and we’re more than open to welcome you any time at the Institution.” His eyes started moving across the room. “Last but not least, I’d like to thank to the responsible of this project, the one who since day one showed a genuine interest and despite the doors that were closed in her face, she never backed down until this was a reality. Y/N thank you for everything you’ve done.” Raising his glass in her direction, he recognized her effort and compromise.
Blushing from getting all the attention towards her momentarily, she started biting her lip.
When Tommy started walking, people over to the side, making something similar to a human wall and leaving a space free for him to walk until he reached Y/N.
“Dance with me?”
The gesture took her by surprise, but soon Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist and he started swaying to the beat of the music.
“Everything is perfect, thank you for taking care of every little thing.” He admitted with a very rare smile.
Carefully to not make Y/N dizzy, Tommy spun her around, following the music beats.
“Thank you for taking us in.” Y/N replied as a wide smile spread on her lips.
Feeling like nothing she could say or do was enough to thank Tommy. She’d be in debt with him for the rest of her life.
“You’ve nothing to-” he started to say but she cut him off.
“I do, every single time I blink, I feel so grateful to have you in my life.”
Tommy gave her hand a squeeze. “If things were different… wouldn’t you do the same?”
“Yes.” She admitted in a heartbeat.
“Then this better be the last time you thank me.” He raised an eyebrow as a warning, but his eyes remained giving her a gentle look. “I know you’d do the same thing for me.”
One more careful spin and the piece was done. A round of applause filled the room and the background noises brought them back to reality.
“I’ve to go, stay here, stay safe.” Tommy stated. “You know what to do in case something bad happens.”
He had already showed her where to hide in case anyone broke into Arrow House. It wasn’t his favorite outcome, but he had assured her it was for the best of she was prepared. Luckily he hadn’t show her how to use a weapon, but she knew the day might be closer than she thought.
“Tommy…” her heart started hammering her ribcage, she could feel it in her ears too. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
The look of worry he found in her eyes made him fight the lump in his throat. If something happened to him, what would she do? Who would protect her? Who’d look after her and the baby?
“Will do. This is the last ilegal business, you know I want to make it right.”
Clearing his throat, he looked around finding Arthur giving him a nod, they were ready to go.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” He assured her once more.
As a different music started to play, Y/N went on to search for her grandmother.
Meanwhile, downstairs Lizzie was crying and smocking in such a bad shape after having a word with Michael about Angel, she started shouting when she heard what they did to his restaurant, she was fuming.
“Miss Stark can I help you?” Mary asked, smoothing her apron.
“Do you’ve a gun? So I can shoot someone?” Lizzie wiped her nose.
“No ma’am.” Mary took a step closer. “May I ask what happened?”
“The Shelbys blew my boyfriend’s restaurant so he couldn’t come to the party.” She tried to smooth the black mascara under her eyes.
And she started to whine and bent into the maid all she knew about the stupid rivalry between the Shelby’s and the Changretta’s.
Mary ignored Lizzie’s past, she only knew she was her master’s secretary, so she felt naturally bad for the green-eyed woman.
“I don’t get it, Thomas gets to have the little happy family with Y/N and also dictate who am I able to be involved with.”
“But they aren’t a family, the baby isn’t Mr. Shelby’s.” Mary dropped an unexpected bomb.
Lizzie stared at her in disbelief, her jaw dropping.
“Are you sure?”
“The motives of why he keeps her under his protection are unknown to me, but he isn’t the father of that baby.” The housekeeper assured her.
Lizzie nodded automatically, processing the news and thinking how this piece of information changed a lot of things.
“So Y/N is a little slut after all.” She mumbled to herself, planning in her mind a couple of ideas that would tear down that facade of integrity and good morals Y/N carried around like a crown. A woman’s reputation meant much more than anything.
And of course, it didn’t match the wealthy people standards.
Master list
TYSM for reading! Remember your feedback feeds a writer’s soul 🥰✨
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#that’s what Cill said#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x fem!reader#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x you#thomas shelby fanfiction#thomas shelby x y/n#peaky blinders fan fiction#peaky blinders imagine
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ABA x Paracelsus HCs that live in my mind rent-free, even though I haven't played the game--
Some of these HCs include other characters involved in their arcade mode.
ABA is no stranger to stalking people. So when she came across a lookout point, she saw many couples, mostly teenagers, making out and going on romantic dates. She wonders what it would feel like to be young and in love, rather than just declaring someone whom she met first glance as a "husband"
ABA's collection of keys were hidden somewhere in the pocket dimension. She sometimes uses them as accessories to adorn herself, despite the like of knowledge in fashion (the girl wears pants as a top--)
There are many shades of blue that ABA can pick from. Since Paracelsus turned himself blue, the shiny surface reflected more colors than just blue, inspiring her to try and appreciate other colors near the blue gradient.
Added to the color stuff, she eventually tries variation of outfits with other colors, but with blue as the base.
Paracelsus knows when she's feeling fatigued. When she's at her limit, he opens the pocket dimension and lets her rest there until she wakes up. ABA sees this as his love language, but unintentional on his part
Both ABA and Paracelsus have no clue on how homonculi biology works, and Paracelsus hates to admit he feels bad that ABA may be at risk of getting herself hurt without him knowing what to do
Paracelsus wishes he knows more about human anatomy because its the closest one to ABA's physiology.
Since ABA is clairvoyant, she often hears the spirits of their victims which she tries to ignore, and probably because she doesnt know the correct response to a wailing dead person wanting justice. When its too much, she asks Paracelsus if what theyre doing was justified and that she begins to regret her rage filled jealousy directed at those that dont even bother them.
Paracelsus keeps telling ABA that she needn't to worry because it was a necessity for the both of them-- something he deeply regrets to say because he knows she has strong principles that she live by despite not being a human
Paracelsus, deep down, is ashamed of himself for tainting ABA for the purpose of tending to his bloodlust. He saw how genuine and pure hearted she is, but it turned into malice because of his demonic origin. He begins to wonder what ABA would be like if she found someone else years ago.
Just like ABA, Paracelsus has an unspoken fear of abandonment, but since he lacks capacity to feel other emotions, he doesnt notice this.
Ever since Elphelt and Testament approached her with good intentions, ABA wanted to make more friends like them, but is scared that others have ill intentions toward her and Paracelsus.
ABA's favorite book would be Alice in Wonderland when she was still in Frasco, specifically the part where Alice was trapped in a room or multiple doors with the smallest door being the exit. ABA admires this because of the concept of escaping, especially that there's a key involved. (Im biased bc my name's Alice and i like this story--)
Besides door keys, she also collects windup key and smaller keys for chests and compartments. She sees this as a symbol for discovering new things, especially music when she came across a music box that needed a key
Speaking of music boxes, she associates this object with Elphelt bc of her musical talent (and that she may as well look like the ballerina spinning on the music box)
Other than doors, music boxes, and compartments, she also came across a small doll that needed a key. After she winds it up, it began walking and talking towards her and freaks her out. But when it said "mama" in a robotic voice, ABA contemplates and wonders if she was ready to become a parent somewhere in the near future when Paracelsus has a body. An impossible thought, but one could never be sure, and it scares her.
Butterfly Pea tea with brown sugar, or sparkling butterfly pea lemonade with honey would probably her favorite drink because of its color. She shares this with her hubby 🥰😋
There comes a time that her bandanges would get uncomfortable and smell bad from blood stains and wounds, so Paracelsus tells her she needs to change them before she gets an infection. He does stop her midway because he realizes she isnt wearing any undergarments and proceeds to take her in the pocket dimension.
Elphelt offers ABA to shop with her to pick clothes suited for her. The first thing she sees at the boutique display was a wedding dress and begins to day dream a wedding with Paracelsus. Without her looking, Elphelt happily buys the wedding dress with matching tuxedo and gives it to ABA, despite Paracelsus' protests (the fact that he hears them chatting about setting up the wedding next day had him ded on the spot :P)
ABA watches home video tapes left in houses unoccupied by their owners (abandoned or they went on vacation; ABA is a home intruder lol). She finds a tape labeled "Happy Day" and it plays a recording of a newly wed couple dancing at their reception. The way the couple moved gracefully tickled an idea in her brain and insisted she and Paracelsus should dance. But since the large key doesnt have any legs, her attempts in waltzing with him went nowhere 😅 (and this gave more reason for ABA to find a body for Paracelsus)
At late nights when ABA is asleep, Paracelsus wonders that if he had a body, would ABA still be shorter or they would be in the same height? Either way, he was impressed that she can keep herself up with that low weight despite her tall stature, more so on how she was able to carry him around without much muscle mass.
When he sleeps beside her, her hair unwittingly falls on his bow and feels how soft it is. A very pleasant feeling he won't admit.
Everyday, Paracelsus keeps reminding ABA that she needed to eat to gather strength. ABA often forgets to eat because its not hard wired in hr system, nor that it was even natural for her to eat in the first place.
#aba and paracelsus headcanons#aba & paracelsus#aba x paracelsus#aba guilty gear#a.b.a x paracelsus#paracelsus guilty gear#paracelsus#guilty gear strive#a.b.a guilty gear#guilty gear
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okay. let's talk about black terry jr.
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TL;DR: terry jr is black. that is something that should not be erased. regardless of your access to or willingness to search for the canon material that confirms this, you should not be depicting him as white. whitewashing terry by refusing to think of him as black creates an unsafe space for our black community members, and you should re-examine your personal biases if you choose to insist on continuing to see terry as white.
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terry jr is black. point-blank. and if terry jr is canonically black, then he should be depicted as such.
i will concede that it is something that you might not spot if you listen through the podcast casually. it's something that i didn't know was actually official in any capacity until recently. and i would like to note that i do not have and have never had access to the dndads patreon. i have not listened to any of the teen talks in full (even the ones released to the public. it's just not my jam.), and any information or spitballing contained within is something that i have either been told second-hand or am completely unaware of. i also didn't look at the official poster (the "everything is alright" poster) that depicted both terry jr and samantha as black.
but the fact of the matter remains that terry jr and samantha are black and have been acknowledged as such within the source material.
once again, i myself didn't seek this information out enough to know it was official canon. so then why have i always depicted them as black anyway?
well when i started engaging with the fandom, i saw what was being presented to me in the fandom was overwhelmingly that terry was indeed black or at least popularly interpreted to be black. and my first and only thought was that that was nice. so i decided to roll with it.
if i really wanted to check if that was canon and it being canon was important to me, i could always have asked around. i could've sought out information from official sources. because if they were black and i just missed it in some way, i would've wanted to check myself. especially because doing so would lead to whitewashing.
but i didn't feel the need to do that because i think that just the added racial diversity was really cool to see on its own.
for argument's sake, there is still the possibility that you'd think it is simply just popular fanon. let's say you chose to not check for yourself whether or not he was canonically black. or let's say that, for whatever reason, you think that what is available isn't enough to sufficiently deem him canonically black. so let's discuss why terry should still be depicted as black even if it was "just" fanon and there were no official artworks to go off of.
i am not of the opinion that fanon in general should be taken as gospel. in fact, there are quite a few things within dndads fanon itself that i personally disagree with and choose not to engage with. the reason why this interpretation in particular is a sore spot is the question of why, after seeing the popular portrayal and recognizing the ability to create racial diversity in a space where a good amount of appearances and identities can be up for interpretation, someone would still choose to depict him as white.
why do you choose to depict him as white? do you have any personal biases that make you think that he would or should be white? do you think that it is unimportant or inconsequential to not depict him as a person of color?
what would be so compelling about making him white that you would choose to go against this interpretation? why is it so important that you continue to see him as white?
who are you ignoring in the process?
i do not think it is deliberately malicious to initially think that terry jr is white. it is the unfortunate truth that white tends to be considered the default. but it begins to rub me the wrong way when anyone chooses to stick with that idea when presented with any evidence or argument to the contrary.
though i will admit that i am not black, i am still a person of color. and i think that creating a fandom space where we can highlight, create, and celebrate racial variety means creating a space where people of color feel safer. and because i would like to uplift the black fandom member who tried to voice their own personal take on this matter, i would like to link back to [this post from vivalapersistence] as the reason why i felt compelled to talk about this in the first place.
i don't want to talk over him, but i want to point out his statement that having this kind of solid representation is important and means something to him as a black person in this community. erasing terry as black means that you would be, intentionally or not, erasing and silencing black voices. it takes away that element of representation within the fandom and does real harm to the black people within when you decide that that representation isn't important. there are real racial connotations to the argument here, and it's frankly a little callous to pretend like there's not.
so maybe let's be nice to the BIPOC in our community spaces, okay?
and i want to make it clear right now. if you want to discuss what i say here, you can discuss this with me.
#sigh. i typically don't fuck around in quote unquote “fandom drama”#but i really wanted to make my stance clear#dndads#idc this goes in the main tag i want my stance heard too
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kirbytober day 7: friendship
#things were going well until i added color#why is dedede built like peter griffin i can’t#sei draws#kirby#meta knight#king dedede#bandana dee#bandana waddle dee#kirbytober2022#kirbytober#this looks good if you look at it from far away
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Yandere!JJK/HXH men when you take over domestic duties(NSFW)
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
warnings: dubcon, implied Stockholm syndrome, yandere characters, nsfw in Gojo’s, Leorio’s and Geto’s, Illumi is the worst yandere to have, implications of reader being harmed in Illumi’s, reader is chubby
A/N: sorry if some of these are out of character, it’s been forever since I watched JJK and I’ve only seen season one!
characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Geto, Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Illumi
taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @stygianoir
if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!
JJK
Gojo
He’s ecstatic. Although Gojo is perfectly capable of keeping his own home clean and making his own food, he’s more than happy to watch you walk around in a sweater and jeans, tidying up the place and making a meal for the two of you to share. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing?”
He can’t help but coo and fawn over you, pulling you away from your work to smother you in kisses and right squeezes. He’s got a bad case of cuteness aggression, and can sometimes forget his own strength. It’s best you let this happen, he’s in a good mood, and you’d rather stay on his good side.
His reward is to stay between your plush thighs, making you cum on his tongue until you’re crying and begging him to stop. Because it’s a reward, he’ll listen this time. Gojo wants this to be good for you after all, since you have finally begun acting like you’re supposed to, like the perfect stay at home girlfriend and not the woman he keeps captive.
Nanami
Although his heart races with joy and love when he notices you’ve started taking over the cooking and cleaning, he still can’t stand to see his darling do all of the tasks around the house, so he used this an excuse to get you to love him bond with you more. He’ll roll up his sleeves after a hard day of work and come up behind you, hands taking away the spatula. “I’ve got this, you go relax.”
He’s determined to spoil you for the upcoming week, bringing home sweets from his favorite bakery to share with you and buying you those books you’ve been asking for. After all, it gets boring being trapped in his home every day. He might as well give you a reward for being such a good girl.
Choso
When he comes home to see you wearing an apron and cooking dinner, he nearly fucking LOSES it. He just stares at you from the doorway, mouth agape. When he took you, you cried and cried begging to go home every day, and now you were humming to a song on the radio as you made dinner for the two of you. “Princess, that smells amazing.”
He follows you around as you work, watching until you swat him away for making you nervous. Choso can’t help but swoon when you offer him a plate of food, face hot with embarrassment.
Geto
He more or less expected you to get the hang of being his little wife eventually, so it’s less of a shock and more of pleasant surprise to see you with your hair pulled back as you dust the bookshelf in his office. “My, my, seems my little wife has gotten busy.”
Although this was expected of you, Geto still goes out to buy you a new apron and cleaning supplies, along with your comfort food to reward you for your good behavior. Maybe you’re finally coming around to the idea that you’re his wife, and will respect him as your husband! He’ll hold you in his lap, letting you cockwarm him as he keeps a hand on your plump hip. “There you go, that’s my sweet little wife. Taking me so well, you’re ready for a creampie aren’t you? You can take it, sit still and pretty and I’ll let you call your family this weekend.”
HXH
Kurapika
He had made the kitchen perfect for use, all the(hard plastic) utensils in your favorite color, and a fridge always full of fresh food. Kurapika hoped you would eventually come around to cooking and cleaning, but he certainly didn’t mind doing the work himself if it meant you would be happy and comfortable. When he saw you preparing a meal for him after seeing he’d been losing weight and skipping meals, he nearly cried from joy.
You were worried for him, you cared about his health! He wasn’t delusional, he knew he took you away from your friends and family and had a love for you that sometimes crossed into obsession, but it was obvious his efforts to make you happy and comfortable had worked. “Angel, I cannot explain how happy this makes me, thank you.”
He spends the rest of the night doting on you, wanting nothing more than to snuggle and hold you to him. Kurapika is just incredibly happy to know despite your tentative behavior towards him, you at least care about his health and well being. That’s the first step towards falling in love, and he’s determined to make sure he follows through each and every step.
Leorio
Honestly, with his busy schedule working at the hospital, he didn’t have much time to cook and clean. Thankfully, you eventually got fed up with eating takeout and living in a messy home, so you took over the cooking and cleaning for your own sanity. When Leorio came home from an especially brutal shift, he nearly cried when he saw the apartment clean and smelled dinner cooking. His little princess was cooking and cleaning, all for him! His guilt from kidnapping you faded away into mushy lovey dovey thoughts as he came up behind you. “Mmm, princess you look like the perfect little house wife right now…”
You can’t help but notice the bulge poking into your ass, his hands wandering around your body. Usually he’s not so touchy, preferring to respect your boundaries in an effort to get you to trust and love him, but it’s hard to resist you when you’re making him a meal and looking oh so cute! He can’t help but squish your chubby tummy and grab at your plush thighs, tugging down your pants to get to your plump pussy!
Chrollo
Honestly, he never expected to come home to a meal being set on the table and the small home they were currently staying in to be spotless. Chrollo eyed the various dishes, raising an eyebrow at you. “You made this?”
You looked up at him, looking a little shy but accomplished. “Yeah… I figured you… would be hungry after your… job.”
Although you sounded sincere, Chrollo wasn’t stupid. He made you try a bite of everything before sitting down to eat. After seeing your look of disappointment when he questioned if it was poisoned, he almost felt bad. This was a genuine attempt at making a meal and trying to live as normal as a life as possible, but he was too jaded to just accept that. “Sorry, dear. I haven’t even thanked you for preparing such a lovely meal. Thank you.”
Illumi
He’s another one that expected you to do all of the domestic duties from the get go. Although there are butlers that take care of most of the work, you as his victim wife was expected to take care of his every need. You were very resistant to this at first, being absolutely terrified of him, but with a little ‘gentle’ pushing in the right direction, you were able to become the perfect, reluctant little house wife.
Although you preformed your duties to your best ability, you had never been genuine or happy to do them. He noticed this in the way your eyes looked empty and humiliated when forced to clean up the blood he tracked into your bedroom.
But tonight was different. You were excitedly cooking away in the kitchen, Illumi almost looking… soft when you smiled at him. Were you finally coming around? It took a lot of hard work, but he had finally molded you into a happy, cute little housewife. “Ah… is this my favorite meal? Thank you, it looks delicious…”
He noticed how your face lit up with his praise, the dark haired assassin taking note to use that to his advantage in the future.
#gojo x reader#x reader#anime x reader#headcanon#requests open#reader insert#hxh x reader#smut requests#hunter x hunter x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso x reader#geto x reader#kurapika x reader#leorio x reader#chrollo x reader#illumi x reader#yandere gojo#yandere kurapika#yandere nanami#hxh smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#anime x chubby reader#chubby!reader#chubby reader#fem reader#female reader#fem!reader#hunter x hunter#jjk x you
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader
Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦
Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.
「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」
🎶 minors DNI 🎵
Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.
“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”
“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.
Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you.
By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task.
Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.
Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love.
An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.
Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you.
Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.
You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.
Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…
Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh, and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”
He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you.
You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you.
His room, fucking hell.
“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-“
You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.
“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”
“No things you enjoy?”
“No romantic interests.”
His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”
You did.
“I do.”
You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.
He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.
“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.
“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”
As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.
He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”
Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.
On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.
His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds.
The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.
A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”
He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?
“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened.
Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library.
He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.
With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.
“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”
It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied.
Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.
His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.
Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button.
Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”
Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.
No, obviously not!
Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”
“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat.
Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”
“Never read it.”
You had read it.
Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”
“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.
When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?
“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”
You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.”
“You will.”
The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.
“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”
He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.
No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.
You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.
Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.
Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.
The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.
Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping.
Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.
“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’
“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.
He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”
Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!”
He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”
What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”
Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.
Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created.
“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”
“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love.
“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.
“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?
It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.
You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.
While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.”
You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.
When the song ended, you offered one of your own.
Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.
Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.
Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”
Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”
Lonely. Pathetic.
“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?”
“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.
“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.
He nodded, suppressing another laugh. “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”
Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”
Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.
“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.
You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.
This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.
His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach.
You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”
He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.
“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.
“Nngh no.”
“Theeen, no.”
Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been, you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.”
The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”
When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed.
You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still.
A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.
The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.
You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen.
“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort.
You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”
Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you.
“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”
You nodded quickly.
“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”
It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy. It existed purely to please.
The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?
Wasn’t that the point?
What was the point?
A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.
Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.
You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming.
Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.
What were you thinking about this for again?
You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”
“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”
If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.”
His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”
If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.
“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.
His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”
A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.
You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other.
The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat.
He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.
You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?
You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.
A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride.
Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?
No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.
But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.
Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.
When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in.
“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.
He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.
“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”
Stop crying.
An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed.
One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.
You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”
What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.
You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”
There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.
“Good girl.”
No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion.
Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans.
With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased.
He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.
After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.
“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.
Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.
Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.
You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.
The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.
After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”
You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.
Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”
He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”
“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.
“Home?”
“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.
“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”
“I’m not supposed to be here!”
A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”
Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”
He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”
“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.
“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”
Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”
You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”
Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”
You thought for a beat, “It can be.”
He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.
You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.
Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.
You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.
Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”
“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.
His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.
“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket, “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”
You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”
“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”
All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.”
“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”
A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.
He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”
A warning.
A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”
You heard the door lock from across the room.
You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.
It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.
“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”
From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”
He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”
Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
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@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp
@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic
#alastor smut#alastor#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader smut
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We’re going to be ok
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: when word gets back to Azriel that you’re planning on leaving the night court after the kitchen incident, Azriel will stop at nothing until he convinces you stay and confesses why he’s been avoiding you.
A/n this is part two to Jealous Mate. I made a movie reference in this part. Five points to anyone who catches it and writes the movie I’m referencing.
*Correction* There are actually two references in this part. One is a movie reference the other is a book reference.
Part one
Azriel refused to be around you for two weeks after the kitchen incident. He was too ashamed that he just left without saying a single word to you. He knew what he was currently doing was making things worse, but he couldn’t face you after he heard you say you were giving up on him. It wasn’t until Rhysand called him into his office to scold him for his actions that he realized how badly he messed up: “Rhys, I know-.”
“No, you don’t know,” Rhysand cut Azriel off: “You avoiding your mate is causing nothing but problems within our inner circle. Do you ever plan on talking to her?” Azriel was so ashamed of his actions that he refused to speak.
Taking his silence as an answer, Rhysand spoke up again: “Very well. Since you won’t give me the decency to respond. Then this news I’m about to tell you won’t bother you.” Rhysand inhaled sharply before adding: “Y/n is leaving the night court. She asked if she could stay at the day court with Helion, and he happily agreed. If you’d like to say goodbye to her, you better do it fast. She’s at the house of wind packing as we speak.”
The color drained from Azriel’s face at the news you were leaving the night court. He couldn’t believe that he had driven you to not only leave the home you shared but also drive you out of the night court entirely. “You can’t allow her to leave !” panic was laced in Azriel’s tone: “She belongs here with us, with me. I’m her mate, and I’m not allowing this to happen, Rhysand !! !”
“She has free will. She can do whatever she pleases. Let her go and let her live her life in peace.”
Azriel felt his chest tightening at Rhysand’s words. He knew Rhysand was right, but he couldn’t let you go, not when he’s yet to tell you how he truly feels about you. “No,” Azriel said firmly: “I’m not letting her leave. At least not until I talk to her.”
Not giving Rhysand a chance to respond, Azriel fled to the house of wind to see if he could catch you before you left.
Luck was on his side. Your smell lingered in the house when he arrived and immediately walked towards your room. He had no idea what he was going to say. He was never really good with words. Not bothering to knock, Azriel entered your room and noticed that more than half of your stuff was already packed. “Can I help you?” you asked while you packed your clothes.
Azriel remained silent as he looked around and spotted something from the corner of his eye: “Is that?” Azriel swallowed hard when he noticed a pressed flower on your desk.
You looked toward where Azriel was staring and sighed: “The rose you gave me when I first moved in? Yes. Yes, it is.”
You were about to throw it in the trash when Azriel stopped you and took your hands into his: “Please don’t go,” Azriel begged: “I know I haven’t been a good mate, but I can’t let you go.”
“Azriel, don’t.” you said firmly: “You’re being mean.” There was hurt in your eyes when you registered what Azriel had said, and all Azriel wanted to do was comfort you. “You do not have the right to ask that from me. Not when I’ve tried to get close to you, but all you’ve done was push me away.” You tried to get out of his grip, but he only held you tighter. “Do you know how excited I was to meet and get to know you when we first met? I was so excited to share everything about my life and was eager to get to know you, but after the first week, you started to ignore me. I just wanted to talk, but you wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence while we live together,” you paused for a moment, trying so hard not to cry in front of Azriel but failed miserably. “Look, if you’re not going to put any effort into our relationship as mates, then I’m going to leave because being around you while you ignore me hurts me physically, mentally, and emotionally ! ! !”
It was Azriel’s turn to feel the way you’ve been feeling for the past couple of months, feeling rejected, and he’ll never forgive himself for making you feel this way for so long. “No! !” Azriel looked at you in disbelief: “I just- you can’t go. I’ve been avoiding you because I thought you were better off without me. You deserve better than me. I-” Azriel paused to contemplate if he should continue explaining. “I didn’t want to accept the bread you made with Cassian because if I did that would’ve meant you accepted the bond between us, and I didn’t want you to feel shackled to me for the rest of your life. But seeing you pack and saying you’re leaving makes me want to be selfish and tell you to stay. Stay with me and I promise I’ll be a better mate. I’ll eat whatever you make so I can accept the bond.”
“Azriel-“ you paused: “I didn’t and still don’t care about your past. You can’t allow your past to dictate your future.” Azriel knew you were right, and he was going to tell you when you continued: “Look, I’ll stay, but I’m not going to bake or cook you anything, not yet. You have to earn my forgiveness, and maybe then I’ll accept the bond in the future.”
“I’m ok with that. I’ll wait a thousand years if I have to, just as long as I still have you in my life.” You found yourself crying again at Azriel’s words.
Azriel looked down at you and wiped away the tears that were running down your cheeks: “No more crying, especially over me,” before he placed a kiss on your forehead: “You’re ok. We are going to be ok.”
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Red, White, and Williams' Blue (LS2)
(Part 4 of the Blind Item Series)
Summary: What happens when the American driver gets outed for dating one of Monaco's It girls who also happens to be the younger sister to one of the Ferrari drivers?
She had feared telling her brothers. She knew they would be mad. Not because they didn’t like Logan, they really didn’t know him, but she was sure they would love him in no time. But because she had sat through lecture upon lecture from her family about never dating a motorsport driver. Their logic was that they could never give her a stable life she deserved and knew she wanted. She was already stressed every race weekend praying Charles and Arthur would be okay, they had lost enough loved ones in the past, why add another? That was till she met Logan. The Florida native was unlike many she had met. He was kind, quiet, not starstruck by her last name, and very, very handsome. She was proud to be with him and was excited to eventually go public but she first needed her family to know.
When she saw the tweet, she practically felt the color drain from her face. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Tears threatened to fall when she thought of how betrayed her family must feel.
She knew she had to see them.
Quickly calling Logan to tell him what happened, as he always tried his best to stay off social media, she tells him to meet her at her mom’s house, as they had been vacationing in Monaco so she could visit family (although no one had known he was there as well).
Luckily, her mom seemed to be none the wiser when she got there, happily greeting her daughter and telling her to come in. When she entered though, she could tell her brothers had seen the photo.
“Ah, look who decided to come visit unannounced today, got anything to tell us?” Charles asked in a snippy tone.
“I am surprised your boyfriend isn’t with you. You two seem to be very close considering a photo of you two making out went viral.” Arthur added with just as much disdain
“Both of you, grow up. We don’t need to start a fight.” Enzo jumped in.
“What do you all mean? What boyfriend?” Pascale asked, confused why her children, who never spoke to each other like this, were being so sharp with each other.
“Look, this isn’t how I wanted this to go. I wanted to tell you all but it was so new and I didn’t feel the need to say anything until it got serious. The last thing I needed was for Charles to have an enemy on the grid if it didn’t last, and by the time it turned serious I was too scared because of how long I waited.” She explained. As she did this, Enzo showed his mother the tweet that started it all.
“You are our sister, we want to know what is going on in your life. This is a big thing to be hiding. I race with him! Admittedly, I don’t know him well enough but I do know enough about drivers in general to not want you to have to deal with them, let alone date them.” Charles said.
“It is unfair of you to keep this a secret from your family. You don’t get to make the decision about how we will feel about something for us.” Enzo added.
“I know that! Don’t you understand this wasn’t done with malicious intent? I have sat through enough talks with you guys to know how you'd feel if I dated a driver and while I hadn’t envisioned it happening, it did. I am happy with Logan and I am sorry you found out this way but I am not sorry for dating him. If you can’t be happy for me then I have no reason to be here.” She said, exacerbated. She started for the front door, ignoring her family’s protests. As she opened the door she was met with her very confused and concerned American boyfriend who was just a second away from knocking on the door.
She was about to grab his arm and drag him off when her mom finally got to her, asking her to come back so they could have a productive conversation this time. She would have said no and continued on, but her mom greeted Logan sweetly and invited him in. She knew his southern manners would stop him from declining, especially when this was his first meeting with her mother. So, reluctantly, she followed him back inside.
Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at the shock on her brothers’ faces as Logan entered, their mother’s arm wrapped around his as she dragged lead him in.
“We are going to start over, and you three are going to be hospitable to our guest.” Was all Pascale said as she let go of Logan and stared her three boys down.
No one knew what to say, the uncomfortable look on Logan’s face hurt her to see, as she was the reason he was here, she had needed him and he had come rushing, no questions asked.
“Well, I would have rather met you before I saw a picture of you making out with my sister blasted all over social media.” Arthur teased, getting a smack on the back of the head by Charles. It wasn’t necessarily unkind, his words didn’t drip with anger or disgust, okay maybe a little bit of disgust, but that was a start.
“I apologize for that, I can promise you that however grossed out or uncomfortable you are doesn’t even come close to the amount of embarrassment I feel so I am atoning for my actions.” Logan joked. She could see how embarrassed he truly was though, he was a private person in most respects, minus his taste for showing off his abs, this was far too much for him.
Luckily, her family laughed at that. But she could tell that they were about to get serious again.
“Are you good to her?” Charles asked.
“I think that's a question for her to answer.” Logan replied. She gave him a mental high five for that response, knowing it would please her family.
“He is amazing. He is kind and very gentlemanly.” She answered.
“I think that photo would suggest otherwise, his hands are far too low. But I am glad to hear that” Enzo teased.
After a few more tense minutes of interrogation, her brother’s seemed to back off, content with his responses.
“How are you two going to handle all the gossip?” Arthur asked.
She hasn’t thought of how she would address the rest of the world, too preoccupied with her family. Dred filled her again once she realized all she still had to do.
“Maybe you guys could help us with that?” Logan said, an idea already formed.
logansargeant
logansargeant Whoops, sorry about that folks ✌🏻
charles_leclerc added to their story
charles_leclerc Yes we are aware this boy is dating our sister and we approve…somewhat.
A/N: I had to add the last photo of Logan and i am not sorry. Love y'all
#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#logan sargeant imagine#logan sargeant x reader
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For Good | LN4
Genre: angst
Words: 1.5K
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: after four months of healing, you think you’re finally over the love of your life. But when he randomly shows up heartbroken at your doorstep late at night, you start questioning everything.
…
If someone asked what was one of the greatest luxuries that life offers, you'd immediately say the ability to forget. The ability of time to mend broken hearts and stitch up wounds. Even if not entirely.
You think of this as you wave goodbye to your friends whom were still talking around a small, round coffee table at a cafe downtown you've been planning to go to for weeks. You don't realize it until you were leaving that Lando was the one that had recommended this place to you. Your smile widens at your progress as you get in your car to drive home.
You stop at a red light, watching as the people pooled into the street to cross it, going on with their day. You smiled at a couple holding hands. You smiled at another holding each other close. You think back to the earlier days after your break up. How these scenes would've sent you over the edge. How these scenes kept you locked up in your apartment because it was easier to be a prisoner to isolation and loneliness than to endless heartbreak.
As you take the elevator up to your floor, you can't help but think of how it would’ve been if things were different. If he was different. No. If his life and what he was was different.
Would your heart have been torn apart into shreds and just barely brought back together?
You shake your head as if it would shake off the thought and unlock your door. You hang your coat behind it and drop your keys on the kitchen island.
Throwing yourself on your living room couch and kicking off your shoes, you can't help but think of how many nights you've woken up in the middle of, lonely and choking on nothing but a lump caused by loss and heartache. You shiver, feeling grateful that part of your life was over. That you've grown since then.
You focus on whatever was on the TV to stop you from thinking of the worst period of your life. You take a deep breath and force it out, getting comfortable by pulling a throw blanket over your cold body.
You get lost in the many ads and all their flashing colors, almost missing the ringing doorbell. You frown, wondering who could show up at that hour. You check your phone clock and it reads 11 pm. Your frown deepens as you sit up, giving the ringer one last chance before you went to open.
It rings again.
You finally get up, walk to the door and open it. Suddenly, it made sense why someone would visit you at that hour.
You look at him, his curls messier than you remember them to be, his eyes darker than you do as well. His athletic physique seems weak and beat up by something only you would know so well. He looks at you the same way you looked at his pictures when you left him that night.
"I can't do it, y/n" he whispers, barely having the strength to shrug. You open your mouth slightly, but nothing comes out.
You just open the door farther, moving out of the way so he could come into the place he has memorized by heart. He drags his feet along your wooden floors to the living room you had danced around in for many nights. Where you've shared words for only both of you to hear, confessions of admiration, and jokes no one else would laugh about but the both of you.
He drops on your couch and his head falls back. You shut the door and stand there, your hands behind you and your brows furrowed. So many emotions run through your body. Longing. Worry. Panic.
You didn't know how to act. Because the only way you knew how was to run into his arms and hold on to him forever. But you shut your eyes and pierce your lips. You couldn't do it to yourself. Not again.
You slowly walk closer to where he was, yet still stand far enough to be out of reach. You take a closer look at him. You've never seen him like this and it killed you.
"Lando" your shaky voice echos. He opens his eyes and look at you. You didn't think it was possible for more pain to find its way to his eyes. But somehow it did.
"Don't call me that" he frowns, standing up and walking closer to you. You keep your eyes on his, not able to move any inch of your body.
"You never call me that" he whispers, his face finally just inches away from yours.
Your heart squeezes. Squeezes so tightly that your eyes are forced shut and your tear ducts are suddenly full. His scent. His face. His voice. His mere existence. You missed it. You missed him. So much that you were barely standing on your feet still.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice is barely audible when you finally speak, your eyes still shut to keep your uninvited tears from exposing your tortured soul.
“Look at me” he begs, voice desperate. Way too desperate for you not to listen. Your eyes meet his again, except it’s a blurry version of them this time.
“Why are you here, Lan?” You promise yourself to call him by his nickname once. Just once more. He smiles through the storm of his emotions when you say it and you immediately question your integrity for already wanting to break the promise you’ve just made.
“What is it?” You pressure and his faint smile fades. He opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out immediately.
“I can’t do it. Being away from you-“ you turn around before he could finish, pressing the bottoms of your palms against your eyes to hopefully keep the tears in, but even dams fail to keep raging rivers.
His hands find your waist, his forehead resting inbetween your shoulder and neck. You both stay like that for a while. It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep yourself from sobbing. Whaling, even.
You thought it was over. You thought you were okay. That time did heal. And that you broken heart was mending. But it took one look at him to get you right back to that night. And one touch to make it all worse.
“No, Lan” you shake your head, unable to keep yourself from crying anymore.
“We already talked about it. This won’t work and-“
“No! We didn’t! We never talked about how every night it feels like bricks are piling over my heart, crushing me into pieces because I can’t reach out and feel you by my side!” Lando’s voice fills every inch of your apartment. You keep your back to him, hunched over as tears streamed down your face.
“I can’t do this anymore! I’ll do anything. Anything you want, just name it and I’ll do it. I’ll buy it. I’ll be it!” He continues. You feel him coming back to hold you and you don’t move. Instead, you anticipate it. Hoping, praying, begging for it.
“Just please come back to me” he wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing his temple on your wet cheek. You keep crying silently, hoping for a moment of strength so you could reply.
You slowly turn in his arms to face him, holding his face and pressing your forehead to his. You both close your eyes and for a moment it’s like nothing changed. It felt like the many nights you spent loving him over and over again until you were incapable of loving anything else.
“I believe we tried everything, Lan. It’s time to let this go. For good” you somehow manage to say that. He somehow heard you, because he shakes his head slowly, disapproving.
“Yes” you whisper against your wishes. Against all your deepest desires and dreams to be with him forever. To hold his hand and never let go.
“No” his voice breaks and you break beyond breaking with it.
“Please” you breath shakily.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Lan” you beg. His arms find their way around you again, his head buries in the crook of your neck. You feel him shake against you. You wrap your arms around him too. Taking him in as if you didn’t have him memorized already.
You both stand there, in each other’s arms, listening, watching, feeling your hearts shatter for the millionth time, cursing your circumstances for tearing you apart. For being too drastically different.
“I love you” Lando mumbles and you smile lightly through your tears, holding him tighter.
“I love you, too”
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 angst#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando norris angst#lando norris fanfictions#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris fic#lando norris fanfic#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz#carlos sainz angst
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I absolutely love @sm-baby ‘s carnival AU and just HAD to imagine what Buzz would be like in it! And I also wanted to share a little color ref of them, too, as their og self
Now for more detailed close ups
This Buzz is just as cheerful as their usual self, but take their role as a “teacher” much more seriously, and they do not care for inattentive students…or worse, students that purposely mess with them. Behind their screen, they were safe, but now that Buzz has them here, they’re not going to pass up an opportunity to teach them a “lesson”.
They still keep their role as an “interactive educational character”, and animate the “quizz show” of the carnival! Since I didn’t want to take the whole cartoon thing as it’s Jax’s whole thing in the au (btw, I wanna say that 1- I love it, and 2- I had COMPLETELY missed the fact Jax was meant to be some sort of cartoon character! I thought he was a stretch toy, but you’re actually so right!!) I instead elongated Buzz for GOOD! And this way, kept their bug like features as well
Each time you get an answer wrong, a new pair of arms gets added until you get…
This
Crawling all over the place like an overgrown centipede, Buzz will chase the player down under the appreciative cheers of an invisible audience, until they catch the little punk- Erm! Student!
To win their game, you of course have to answer their questions correctly, and the further you get the more disturbing/complex/nonsensical they get
#tadc#the amazing digital carnival#the amazing digital circus#the amazing digital circus oc#the amazing digital carnival oc#the amazing digital circus au#tadc caine#the amazing digital circus Caine
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Pretty hot - Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: nothing tbh, just tooth rotting fluff and sum kissy kissy
You shivered for the umpteenth time that day while your breath formed little clouds in the cold air. You hadn't been able to get warm again ever since JJ announced you'd be going to Alaska.The case was over and everything went well, but the plane couldn't take off until tomorrow morning due to the snow.
"God, why Alaska?" You murmured to no one in particular. A small smile formed on Spencer's lips at that.
"You're not a fan of the cold?" He asked. The glare you gave him was enough to make him chuckle. Looking at you, he felt completely warm inside. He thought your red nose and rosy cheeks were absolutely adorable.
"We're here." Hotch said. Looking up from the snow, you see a rusty looking building in front of you.
"That's supposed to keep me warm tonight?" You sigh. Morgan laughs and ruffles your hair.
"Awww, poor baby." He mocks you before you give him a playful shove.
--
"Bad news." Hotch announced once you were all settled in the hotel lobby. "There's only four rooms left, and six of us. Some are gonna have to double up."
"I'm not sleeping with Reid." Derek said almost immediately.
"Dibs." Garcia said while grabbing Derek's hand.
"I'll sleep with you." You say to Reid before realizing how creepy you just sounded. Even Rossi was almost laughing at the way you worded that.
"I- I mean, I'll room with you." You cough awkwardly, your face now red from something completely else than the cold.
--
"Wanna play?" Spencer asked you as he gestured to the chess board in the lobby. It was still early to go to sleep, and the room was probably gonna be way colder than the lobby was.
"Sure." You smiled and Spencer moved to set up the game.
It was your turn to start, but your hands were shaking so hard from the cold that clumisly moved a pawn forward. Spencer frowned at that; he didn't know you were THAT cold.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, continuing the game. And for the first time that evening you felt a little warm insinde from his concern.
"Yeah." You shrugged. "Just cold, you know."
Spencer snorted and took your knight from the board. You silently cursed yourself for not seeing that earlier before looking at Spencer again.
"What?"
"Just cold. In my memory, the definition of 'just cold' isn't teeth chatter, hands shaking and purple lips." Spencer looked up from the board and your breath hitched in your throat. The utter adoration and warmth in his eyes was enough to even make the snow outside melt. Their caramel color gave you a sense of belonging, of home. Oh, how you could get lost in those eyes.
"It's also your turn, by the way." He added with a small grin.
"Right." You coughed and moved one of your pieces. "Check." You said proudly.
"Impressive," he complimented you, "but," He moved his queen and suddenly, "checkmate."
"Wha-" you started, but immediately gave up. It was too cold to actually attempt to understand what you had done wrong. The game was nice though, for a minute, you had actually forgotten about the temperature.
"One day, I'll beat you."
"In your dreams." He said playfully.
You yawn loudly and rub your hands together to try and warm them up a little.
"Sleep?" Spencer offered and you nodded gladly.
--
What a typical cliché, was the first thing you thought when you entered the room. You guessed it, there was only one bed. For a moment, you found yourself imagining Spencer and yourself in those typical romantic scenarios where this happens. You shook your head to clear the thoughts and opened your mouth to say something you almost felt bad about. "You're taking the floor."
To your surprise, Reid was smiling. "I didn't expect anything else."
You settled down in the room while Spencer showered, slipping into your pj's and pulling the covers of the bed as high as possible. You had turned the heater in the room all the way up, but it didn't seem to do much. Shaking like a leaf, you waited for Spencer to come back in order to turn off the lights.
You looked up when you heard the bathroom door and were met with a mouthwatering sight: Spencer, with only a towel around his waist, curls still wet and water dripping down his chest.
"Forgot my clothes." He apologized with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."
"Please," you huffed quietly when the door closed again, "don't apologize."
--
It was the middle of the night when you woke up again from the sheer cold. Your started shivering and your teeth clattered against each other. This continued for roughly 20 minutes before Spencer sighed.
"Alright, I can't sleep with the teeth chatter." You heard him move and before you could process what he was doing, you felt the bed behind you dip.
"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed at him. He ignored your question and instead continued to climb into the bed with you.
"Body heat is the most effective way to get warn quickly." He said and you could detect something odd in his voice. Was he nervous?
You blew into your numb hands before sighing and turning around to face Spencer.
"Fine." You grumbled stubbornly. "Get over here."
He gladly accepted your offer and scooted closer to you, smoothly wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you as close as possible. You immediately blushed from his close proximity. "Uhm-" you started.
"What? Did I do something wrong?" Spencer asked concerned, loosening his grip on you a little to look at you.
"No, no-" you said, looking up at him. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized his face was mere inches from yours. You couldn't help it; your eyes flickered down to his lips and back up to his caramel eyes again.
One of Spencer's hands moved to your cheek, all the while looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable. At this point, his soft pink lips were the only thing your eyes could focus on.
"We should probably get some rest." You whispered, making no move to actually go to sleep.
Spencer leaned closer to you. "Probably." He whispered back. You could feel his breath on your own lips and you forgot to breathe.
"Spence," you said softly.
"Yeah?"
"just kiss me already."
He wasted no time after that; he connected your lips with a fiery passion but still with an unimaginable softness also.
His tongue softly prodded your lips which you gladly accepted, opening up your mouth. He let his tongue dance with yours before retracting it and leaning away from you.
You were breathing heavily and so was he.
Your eyes still closed from the kiss, you took your hand back from his curls and let it rest on your side.
"You warm yet?" He asked, making you laugh.
"Pretty hot, actually."
--
BONUS:
"What's got you two all smiley?" Derek asked the next morning at breakfast. "You sleep THAT good?" He smirked.
"You wish, Derek." You replied.
"I slept on the floor, just like you." Spencer said.
Hotch and Rossi, who were watching from a little distance, were both already sevretly profiling you.
"They definitely kissed, didn't they?" Rossi said.
"Most definitely." Hotch replied.
Rossi smiled big. "Excuse my cursing, but fucking finally."
#fanfiction#fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#fluff#spencer reid fluff
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Stu Macher x Fem!Reader where they are dating but the readers parents hate him so one night are 2:33 am Stu knocks on the readers window and she opens it it tells him to leave but before she can get a word out Stu is kissing her and telling her how much he misses her and one thing lead to, and so Stu had to push the readers head into her pillow so she didn’t wake anyone.
Sorry if the store request does not make any sense i’ve been wanting to request something from you for a while and this idea kinda came to my brain as I was falling asleep at four in the morning so I am very sleep deprived lol anyways I love your story. I hope you have a great day
Surprise Baby
Genre: Fluff & Smut
Warnings: +18 content, clingy and soft Stu, dirty talk, degrading, cursing, dom!Stu, p in v (w/o protection), sad Stu at the end (reader comforts him)
Word Count: 1,8k
A/N: This was actually a very interesting request and Ik very well that our daydreams before we sleep are the best 🤭 I added something to the plot at the end, so I hope you still like it! Tysm, I'm so glad you like my writing! It always feels so gratifying whenever you guys tell me that <33
Right now you're lying on your bed crying, while hugging your favorite bunny plush that Stu gave you for Valentine's Day. You'd just had an argument with your parents, since they weren't the biggest fans and supporters of your relationship with your boyfriend Stu Macher. You didn't understand why they didn't like him and didn't even make an effort to, even though Stu always made you happy and made your life more colorful and enjoyable from the moment you met him. Of course Stu had his flaws like everyone else, since perfection is impossible to achieve and that was fine by you. But not for your parents. They said that Stu distracted you from school, that he "lived" for parties and didn't give you your "precious" time to concentrate on your studies, because he always took you on dates so that he could spend more time with you, even when you said you were busy.
You perfectly knew that Stu wasn't a guy who would take "no" for an answer. Maybe it was because he'd always been spoiled by his parents and didn't understand the meaning of that word? Maybe he hated the fact that you would say "no" to him, because if you truly love him as you always say, why would you reject an opportunity to go out with him? Both answers to those questions are probably correct, because you knew that Stu didn't know how to respect your personal space either, not that you minded anyway. But your parents did and that was the problem. They even told you once that Stu was obsessed with you and that your personal life has also become his, as if it were his property. Maybe they were right about that, but that's how Stu showed how much he loved and cared for you and it always worked well in your relationship. And you really missed him.
Sleep didn't want to make its presence known, so you decided to watch your favorite show on your new tv. However, you still couldn't stop thinking about the argument with your parents. Of course you defended your boyfriend and were always on his side to protect him against anyone, even your own parents, but it did made you very upset... all you wanted was for your family to see how genuinely happy Stu makes you feel, how he always admired you and treated you as if you were the only woman to walk on earth and how he's so funny that it's practically impossible not to laugh because of some silly joke he's made until your cheeks hurt. You just wished your family accepted him and loved him as much as you did...
Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when you heard your window being knocked on repeatedly. You screamed for a second, because you weren't expecting that to happen in the middle of the cold night. Nevertheless, you immediately felt relieved when you saw Stu standing there with his puppy eyes and big smile on his handsome face you loved so much. A wide smile appeared on your face the moment you realized your boyfriend wanted to surprise you and that he had actually made an effort to see you.
His giant body barely fit through your window and the way he clumsily tried to get into your room, like a cartoon thief, made you laugh until your belly started to get sore.
"Baby, what are you doing?? It's cold outside!" you asked worriedly, before you watched him fall face down on the floor as he let out an "ouch". You couldn't stop laughing at his poor attempt to sneak into your room, as he already knew that your parents would never let him in, especially so late at night. You looked over your bedside table, where your alarm clock was, to see what time it was, as it marked 2:33 am.
"Surprisee baby!" he shouted excitedly, with a contagious smile that didn't leave his face for a moment. His breathing was accelerated, which made you realize he had some trouble climbing up to your window. You felt your heart warming at his romantic gesture, yet you didn't want your parents to find out and kick him out of your house or worse.
"Be quiet babe, you're not supposed to be here! You need to leave Stu, my parents are gonna ki-" you were really worried about your boyfriend's safety, but Stu didn't give you a chance to finish your sentence, as he grabbed you firmly around your waist and began kissing you passionately with his long, skilled tongue. His hands were all over your body and his grip was tight, not allowing you to move away from him.
"Shh- don't worry about them. It's just us now. I've missed you so much, baby." he admitted, before kissing your neck eagerly. When he he'd had enough, he pulled you up by your hips and laid you down on your bed, his mouth never leaving yours. You couldn't help moaning as you felt his sweet, loving assaults on your body, his lips and big hands making you melt into his addictive touch.
"Love, we have to be quiet... and you're making it hard for me." by now you were feeling breathless, unable to contain your desire for your horny and needy boyfriend. Instinctively, you rubbed against Stu's crotch which made him groan in pleasure, as you could feel him already hard under his jeans. He began to gently pinch your nipples through the fabric of your short pajama top, enjoying and closely analyzing your reactions to his teasing touch.
"Looks like I have to shut you up so we don't get caught, baby..." the last thing you saw was a mischievous grin on your boyfriend's face, before he firmly turned you around so that you were on all fours for him. He pressed his erection against your ass, while his eyes rolled back as he put his head back from the stimulation and his mouth was slightly open. You were starting to enjoy this game way too much, to see who couldn't hold back their moans, and you made sure you would win this battle. You pushed your ass against him and started rolling your hips in a provocative way, knowing that Stu wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. He bit his lips at this and frowned, realizing what you were trying to do to him.
"My girl really wants to get some, huh? You wanna play dirty, doll? Do you really think you can win this game against me?" he laughed trying to mock you, making you feel pathetic if you really thought you could stay quiet with the way he was about to fuck you.
"Just fuck me already Stu, I can't hold it much longer..." you quickly gave up and decided to beg him for mercy, so you could feel him inside you for once. You were dripping by now and the thought of having to keep quiet so no one would catch you at such a vulnerable and intimate moment turned you on even more for some reason.
You finally felt him give you want you wanted, since Stu himself wasn't a very self-controlled guy when it came to you. You felt his tongue lick a long, firm strip from your throbbing clit to your pulsing, empty hole. This made you grip your pillow as hard as you could while he ate you out from behind. Unfortunately, it didn't last much longer like you'd hoped, as you didn't realize how horny and impatient Stu was feeling that night. Suddenly, you felt his fully erect cock enter you without any resistance, sliding easily into you because you were so wet with your cum and his saliva. He didn't give you any time to adjust to him as he usually did and started pounding you hard and fast. He knew you all too well, so he pushed your face against your pillow to prevent any sound coming out of your pretty mouth and kept his strong hand on your head. You prayed that no one would hear you both fucking like horny teenagers who can't control their sexual hormones. It wasn't your fault that you and Stu were so fucking attracted to each other and that your shared love was considered obsessive, right?
"You like that, don't you babygirl? You love it when I fuck you like this... You needy slut, can't get enough of your boyfriend's cock inside your tight hole. I bet your parents would be so embarrassed if they saw you getting fucked this good." he whispered in your ear before changing his angle to fuck you deeper. Wet sounds, your muffled moans and his heavy breathing were the only sounds being heard in your room, turning you both on even more. It didn't last much longer when you both came at the same time, since Stu was way too horny to hold his orgasm. He was so glad he'd made you cum before he climaxed inside you.
After the moment of ecstasy you both experienced, you lay there trying to catch your breath while staring at the ceiling. It was then that Stu pulled you closer to him and hid his face on your neck, clinging to you more than usual. He was acting way too needy and clingy, and wasn't trying to be the "dominant" one, which made you worry about him.
"Are you ok, love? Do you wanna talk about it?" you asked him softly as you caressed his hair and cheeks. You knew him too well to recognize whenever he wasn't feeling good, even when he was trying to hide it.
"My girl knows me so well." he chuckled weakly, trying to find the right words to tell you what was had been bothering him. After a moment of silence in which you tried to comfort him with your tender touches, he finally spoke. "My parents won't be able to make it for my birthday. Again." your heart ached for him, because you knew this problem had happened before. Although Stu's parents loved him and treated him right, they had never been very present throughout his life and that took a tool on his emotional behavior. That explained why he was so addicted to your attention and wanted you all to himself, all the time. It made you really sad that you couldn't help your boyfriend properly, because the presence of anyone's parents is irreplaceable.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, baby. I'm sure they're extremely busy with work and that's the only reason for their absence on such a special day. We both know that they love you and I'll be there for you to make sure you have the biggest party ever." you gently grabbed his face and smiled warmly at him, admiring his ocean eyes that reminded you of the maldivian water, as he stared back at you with pure love.
"I know you will. What would I do without you? You're the love of my life, you know that right?" you chuckled as you softly kissed his cute nose.
"I love you too, Stu... so much. You have no idea of how much love I have for you and no one ever will."
#stu macher smut#stu macher fanfiction#stu macher imagine#stu macher fanfic#stu macher scream#stu macher x reader#stu macher#matthew lillard smut#matthew lillard imagine#scream 1 smut#scream 1996 smut#stu macher fic#stu macher x you#stu macher x female reader#stu macher x y/n#stu matcher x you#stu matcher x reader#stu matcher imagine#matthew lillard x reader#fic request#reader x character
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“At Least” S. Gojo
☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)
☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader
☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.
☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).
☆ wc : 5.6k
☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao
“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”
His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.
“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”
Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”
Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.
“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”
Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.
You're not flustered, you're angry.
“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.
“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”
“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."
Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”
He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.
How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?
How could he fail everyone like this?
“Gojo-San?”
Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.
“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.
And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.
“Are you okay? You seemed off.”
Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.
“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.
“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?
When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”
Spring break?
Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.
“Spring break? Why so soon?”
“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”
“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”
What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.
“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”
“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”
Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.
“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.
“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”
Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?
You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.
Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.
Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination.
Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.
It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant.
Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.
You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.
The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.
The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly.
You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?
“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”
"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”
“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”
“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”
You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.
You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.
“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”
“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”
Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”
“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”
“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.
“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”
“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.
“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”
“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”
Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?
Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.
What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.
Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.
“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”
From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.
Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.
His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.
The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.
“That’s going to kill you,” his hand reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.
He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”
“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”
Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”
“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”
27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?
“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.
The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.
The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?
He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.
You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.
Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.
The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual, that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.
“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.
“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words.
But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.
“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”
Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.
“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”
“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”
“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.
Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”
“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”
You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.
He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought.
He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.
“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”
“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”
A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17.
“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact.
“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.
“All good things, I hope-“
“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”
“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances.
“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”
“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”
His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.
“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”
Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.
“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”
“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.
“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”
Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store.
“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.
“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.
“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”
“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.
You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.
You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.
You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.
You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.
“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.
He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”
You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.
You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.
Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.
“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”
You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after
You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.
That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.
A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.
“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”
And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.
“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”
He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.
“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”
Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.
This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.
“nngh..”
Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.
He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.
Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.
Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.
“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”
“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”
“Not yet, no,” he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”
“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”
His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”
“Huh?”
You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late.
He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.
“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.
You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath.
“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.
What have you done?
“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”
You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”
He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.
“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”
“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“
“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”
He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.
Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.
“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response.
There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.
Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.
#syd.writes#if this doesn't show up on tags I SWEAR TO GOD#jjk#jujtsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jjk angs#jjk smut#mdni#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x reader smut#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo angst#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x reader angst#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru angst#satoru gojo#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader fluff
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Jingle of The Bells
jake "hangman" seresin x reader
Summary: Your little girl is worried her father won’t make it home for Christmas.
Notes/warnings: this is the same family from the Oh, Baby universe, but it stands alone as well :) Mostly Fluff, a dash of angst.
This is for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge (my word is Bells)
Words: 2386
Your daughter was so much like your husband. You’d say too much if not for the fact that you loved them deeply. But there came a lot with their similarities. Double doses of determination, wit, and control. So, not unlike your husband, your little girl wanted to be the one to call the shots. However, circumstances didn’t always allow for that, and in those cases, Eve struggled the most.
---
“Mama, he’s supposed to be home!”
Eve’s arms were wrapped tight around your neck as her wails echoed in your ear. You held on to her snuggly, her little legs tucked into the open space between your criss-crossed seated position on the floor.
Until you’d joined her, she’d sat in the same spot all night, the teddy bear from her father settled in her lap as she stared at the front door. Despite the colored lights strung around your home, the pile of presents for her and her baby brother from Jake’s mother, grandmother, and team, and the cookies waiting to be decorated, Eve hadn’t moved.
Every five minutes she would ask you the time, and each answer you gave her broke your heart right along with hers. She was too young to remember that Jake’s return schedule wasn’t always a guarantee. You were used to not making plans on the day you were originally told your husband would be coming home to you because promises in his line of work didn’t exist. There were no promises he would be gone only as long as he initially believed, no promises he would return on time, no promises he would return at all. But for so long Eve was spared all of that. The one time she remembered her father leaving, he did manage to come back when expected. She had never faced that disappointment. Until now.
“Sweetie, it’s not Daddy’s fault,” you whispered. “I promise you he wants to be with us and that he’ll be home as soon as he can.”
“But it’s Christmas!”
Christmas Eve, actually, but to your daughter it was all the same. She had expectations. Cookie decorating, and milk pouring—a skill she’d asked Jake to help her perfect, not wanting to spill a drop for the reindeer. There was a letter she wanted to write to Santa, thanking him for bringing her Daddy home, which he had not, only adding to Eve’s bitterness. And it didn’t do her any good that before Jake left, she had also begged for a Christmas Eve pajama party where you all dressed in matching flannels, her baby brother included, and read a story before bed.
Jake had done his best to promise those things to Eve, and in the same moment, with a single look at you, had silently communicated the very real possibility that none of it might happen. You knew it, expected it, and didn’t blame him for it, but it didn’t change that your little girl was in pain and her father wasn’t by her side to make it go away.
“I know. I know, Sweetie,” you said, gently rocking her back and forth. But your soothing could only be so effective, and for the night, she wouldn’t be able to take much more. “I think it’s time for bed now.”
“Why?” came out nasally, her crying having stuffed up her nose.
“Because you’ve been up for too long. You woke up hours earlier than you usually do and you didn’t take your nap today.”
She pulled her head back from the crook of your neck to look at you, and you wiped away the salty liquid from under her lashes. “But what about Daddy?”
“Daddy will be home soon. He’s just a little late, but that’s ok.”
“It is not.”
“It is, Sweetie,” you said, your own tears forming and beginning to blur your daughter’s face. “He’s trying so hard to be here, and that’s what matters.” When one of them fell, Eve’s finger rose to meet the droplet as it slowed its descent down your cheek. You grabbed her hand and rubbed the tear off her fingertip. “Come on, let’s go lay down.”
This time, with exhaustion setting in, she didn’t fight you, but she did wiggle from your hold to stand up on her own. Then she used the last of her energy to rush over to the coffee table where the small set of jingle bells she’d been dangling in front of her brother’s face to elicit his giggles was lying. Jake had bought her those bells last Christmas and immediately regretted bringing such incessant jingling into his home.
Swallowing back your remaining tears, you watched as Eve wrapped her fingers around the velvet cord that kept the bells in a bunch before making her way into the hall and draping the cord over the knob of the front door.
You nodded and stood. Her tears were not quite dried, and you knew she was desperate to keep her eyes on that door, but she still took your hand when you reached out for her.
“I’ll tell you if I hear them,” you said before lifting her in your arms to carry her up to her room.
---
In her weakened fight against sleep, Eve failed. When you finally had her tucked in her bed, passed out and releasing soft snores, you returned to the living room where you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace.
You did your best not to fall apart in front of your daughter, but Jake being gone ripped you to pieces as much as it did her. It didn’t help that his return was no less anxiety-inducing than his departure. The occasional unpredictability allowed your mind to wander to undesirable scenarios that, at this point, you knew weren’t likely, but the thought of them still terrified you.
Jake was fine, though. You believed it, knew it. He was safe. The next person to open that door would be him, it was just a matter of when, and hoping it would be before the holiday was over.
---
The clock had reached midnight only a handful of minutes before your eyelids grew heavy and begged to close. You fought sleep but, much like your daughter, reached your limit and succumbed. The consistent crackling of the fire combined with the warmth of the blanket lulled you slowly but effectively. It was too quiet and peaceful to resist, until a jingle clanged against another jingle which together thumped against something thick and solid.
Your body jolted as you heard a muttered “Why so damn loud?”
“Jake?” you called, tossing the blanket aside and running toward the door. He barely had his duffle on the floor and his key out of the lock when you slammed into him.
His arms were around you in an instant, slightly lifting you off the ground as his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. “God, you feel good,” was muffled in his deep voice, vibrating against your skin. His arms tightened. “So good.”
Your feet met the floor again, and with your hands on his cheeks, you guided his head back so you could press your lips to his. Your moan greeted his. Then you sighed into the kiss and melted further into his hold. No matter how many times you said goodbye, you were always relieved to find him the same as when he left. The feel of him, the taste of him, the chills you got when his hands wove into your hair—he never returned as anyone other than your Jake.
He gave you two more pecks, then one final long kiss before he broke it to breathe, allowing his forehead to rest against yours while his chest expanded and deflated and expanded again to take in the air you’d stolen. “I missed you, Honey.”
A tear forged a cold trail down the flush of your cheek and slipped into the seam of your lips. “I missed you, too.”
Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead before meeting your eyes. “How are the kids?”
“Needing you,” you said as he wiped away the wet river from your skin. “Eve thought you weren’t going to make it home in time.”
Knowing your husband, it took only the barest of shifts in his stance, his brow, his eyes, for you to see his heart was breaking right along with Eve’s. He turned his head toward the staircase that led to the bedrooms of your home, his daughter’s in particular.
Inching up on your toes, you softly kissed the line of his jaw and, somehow, for the first time, noticed he had a little bit of stubble. His last day or two must have been exhausting if he hadn’t gotten a chance to shave. Likely, everyone was in such a rush to get home to their families that some basic rules went out the window. Your kiss traveled up to his cheek.
“It’s ok, baby,” you whispered. “You’re with us now.”
“Did she cry?”
“She’ll forget all about it when she sees your face.”
Jake lightly hummed, unsatisfied with the state he’d forced upon his daughter. Without letting another beat pass, he took your hand, led you to your daughter's room, and eased her door open.
The glow emitting from Eve’s new plane nightlight—an early Christmas gift the Daggers had sent from overseas—highlighted her sleeping face, and her delicate features were so peaceful you’d never have known she was devastated a few hours prior.
When you had let her open the gift from the team, you of course told her who it was from right away with a huge smile splitting your face. She was so excited as she pulled at the bow and shredded the paper that she laughed louder than you had heard in quite some time. Her eyes went wide and she hopped up on her feet to fly the plane around the room. She giddily showed her infant brother—who received his own nightlight in the form of a train so the gifts would be unique to each child—before she plopped down on the carpet in your living room to examine every detail of the elaborately designed light.
And then she began to sob.
She sobbed for missing her daddy and aunts and uncles; for missing the many times Jake had taken his family to see the planes he flew, which closely matched the shape of Eve’s gift. She sobbed until you took her upstairs for bed, helped her plug in the light, and told her a story of her daddy seeing that plane and that train and immediately thinking of his baby girl and little boy.
That was only three weeks ago, and Eve’s angst had grown with the passing days. But the little light helped her rest at night as long as she completed her ritual of crouching down in front of the radiating glow and whispering a soft “goodnight Daddy” before settling into bed.
It did help for a while, but it didn’t cease the daily return of her tears. And this night, fairly so, was by far the worst. Her disappointment made the light its least effective since she’d received it.
Jake stepped into the room and took a seat at the edge of her bed. “I shouldn’t wake her,” he said as he brushed a blonde curl out of her face. From that light touch, Eve stirred, but then she stilled again, releasing a soft breath.
Your husband sighed right along with her. You knew how badly he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight. He needed that. He could see her in front of him, and from those inhales and exhales, could hear her, and he could feel the soft curls of her hair, but nothing compared to feeling her little heartbeat beating against his, or hearing her sweet voice, or seeing her bright smile. That he’d have to wait for morning to truly greet his daughter after months away was an ache you would never know. Yes, you ached for him when he was gone, and you knew he did for you, but it just wasn’t the same. This was his child, a piece of him that he’d gone without for so long. It was a powerless feeling. She was right there, but being the father he was, Jake wouldn’t disturb her for his own sake.
Carefully, Jake leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”
Your lips curved into a smile. “Would you like to go see our son?” Another one of his children that he’d undoubtedly refuse to disturb, no matter how much he wanted to see the little pair of eyes that matched yours staring up at him.
Jake nodded, gently squeezing Eve’s tiny hand. He was about to stand when you both heard a soft, “Daddy?”
Your heads whipped in Eve’s direction to find her fists rubbing at her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered as her vision adjusted to the darkness, but when she saw the darkened figure sitting by her side, Eve didn’t second guess herself. She kicked at her covers and leapt across the bed with the speed and agility of a bunny rabbit.
“Daddy!”
Jake chuckled as he caught her. “Hi, baby girl.”
Little hands reached up to his face to verify his realness. They ran up and down the scruff she’d rarely ever seen, making Jake’s cheeks contort in funny shapes, and then she grinned. “You came home.”
You couldn’t see all of Jake’s face, but you heard his sniffle as he tugged your daughter closer to his chest. “Of course, I did.”
“Mama said you would.”
“Well, Mama’s usually right, isn’t she?” he said, turning to look at you and confirming the redness that was brightening the green of his irises. He winked before returning his attention to his daughter.
Eve nodded vigorously then threw her arms around his neck, squeezing with all of her might. “I like Santa again.”
“When didn’t you like Santa?” Jake asked as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.
Eve pulled back. Her smile was still in place as she patted the tops of his shoulders with both hands. “Today," she said. "But you are home so he’s ok.”
---
A/N: so i have another christmas challenge fic coming that is Rooster x reader, which is my very first Rooster fic so hopefully I do alright. Then my focus will be on The One I Want and some Thorn (Expendables 3) fics :)
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @eloquentdreamer @jessicab91 @rosedurin @novagreen04 @memeorydotcom @purplevortexx @sgt-barnesveins @books-are-escapes
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun hangman#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin fic#top gun#jake hangman seresin x y/n#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin angst#tgm#tgm fic#christmas fic
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—𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞.
—ft: seishiro nagi x gn!reader, sae itoshi x gn!reader
—warnings: none, just some cursing on sae’s part.
𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚒
seishiro is so lazy. the only time he ever decides to eat is whenever you agree to spoon-feed him. this boy is such a big baby, like, omg! he can't literally do anything without needing you to be there 25/8. and even then, he's not going to do much unless you put in just as much effort (if not more). don’t be mad! he just really enjoys being with you, and your presence is truly the only thing that can make this baby boy at least somewhat interested in whatever it is that you are doing. even in life-threatening situations like starvation.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Reo furrowed his eyebrows as he watched the white haired boy still very much occupied with the game in his hands. Seishiro hadn’t even glanced at his plate, let alone touched it.
“Come on, Nagi!” The boy exclaimed, his purple-colored eyes glaring at Nagi with a slight hint of annoyance. "We have practice today. You have to eat at least something," he added, feeling his left eyebrow twitch at the other’s response.
“But it’s such a hassle,” he mumbled, grayish eyes sparing one single glance at the food on his plate before going back to his game. The slightly shorter boy huffed at that. Sometimes he just couldn’t help but feel like he’s so done with this guy. Seishiro wasn’t exactly making things easier for him either, but he guessed it was a part of his charm.
Sighing dramatically, the boy with purple hair suddenly lifted himself from his seat and leaned slightly forward over the table. He took the other boy's knife and fork before cutting a piece of meat. However, it wasn't until a few seconds had passed that Seishiro finally acknowledged the food presented before him.
“Let me feed you, if you're going to continue being such a baby,” a pregnant pause soon followed as Reo muttered those words. Yet, instead of receiving the response that he’d been hoping for, it was one that almost made him scream at the top of his lungs.
“I want (Y/n)-chan to feed me.”
“Well, (Y/n)-chan is not here!”
𝚜𝚊𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚑𝚒
this arrogant boy can’t physically stomach any food that has not been cooked by you and you alone. i swear! this has never been an issue before, until sae met you. now, he can't even distinguish between luxurious dishes and the ones that we ordinary humans eat. in his opinion, they all fall into the category of “peasant foods” and he will fr glare eye daggers at anyone who even dares to say otherwise.
“What the fuck is this?”
Ryusei stifled a laugh as he heard the boy from his right. His pink eyes observed the midfielder in amusement as the other boy stared at the food presented before him with nothing but pure disdain. The blonde and pink haired boy didn’t want to admit it, but a part of him was quite surprised as he thought those rumors about Sae being an abnormally picky eater were absolute bullshit.
Now it seemed they were not, because never had he ever seen the boy look at something with that much disgust. Not even at Ryusei himself.
“Something wrong?” The horny demon had the audacity to smirk as he feigned obliviousness. Sae narrowed his eyes dangerously at the other boy, right eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Sighing at Ryusei’s dumb antics, the reddish-brown haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose before sending the aforementioned an unimpressed look.
“I said: What the fuck is this?”
A sudden gasp escaped the tanned boy’s lips as he sent the other a look of bewilderment. “How can you not recognize the cooking of your oh so beloved s/o?”
“You’re telling me that (Y/n) was the one who made this disgusting, repulsive, nauseating, stomach-churning thing called food?”
There was a moment of silence, tension growing thicker by each passing second. The stare down between pink and teal so intense that random passers-by were too afraid to get caught in the crossfire to as much as walk past them.
However, as soon as the tension appeared, it quickly dissipated. Ryusei's expression exuded nothing but sheer brattiness, and Sae felt a strong headache coming on, anticipating where this was headed.
“Y’know, what you said just now really hurt my ego.”
#blue lock#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#bllk x reader#nagi seishiro x you#seishiro nagi#blue lock x y/n#bllk nagi seishiro#nagi seishiro#seishiro nagi x reader#sae itoshi x reader#seishiro x reader#itoshi sae x reader#seishiro nagi x you#sae itoshi#bllk x y/n#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae x you#sae itoshi x y/n#sae itoshi x you#nagi x y/n#nagi x reader#nagi x you#itoshi x reader#sae x you#sae x y/n#sae x reader#blue lock nagi
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