#🩵REBLOG IF YOU WANT🩵 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sakkiichi · 1 year ago

Text

COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.

Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa��?

ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.

a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.

Scaramouche is not amused.

Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.

Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.

“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.

“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.

“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”

“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.

He sighs.

“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.

“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.

Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.

“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.

“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.

Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.

“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.

Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.

Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.

Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.

Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.

Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.

✧ ALBEDO

A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.

Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.

Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.

“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.

“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.

The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.

“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”

Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.

Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.

“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.

A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.

“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.

“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.

“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”

“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.

After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.

“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”

His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.

“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.

Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.

Those last two syllables.

His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.

“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.

Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.

“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”

“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.

Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.

When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.

✧ XIAO

“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.

Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.

What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-

“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.

The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.

Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.

You, however, know better.

“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.

The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.

She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?

Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.

“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.

“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.

In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.

“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.

The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.

“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.

His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.

“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.

Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.

The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.

✧ CHILDE

Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.

Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.

The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.

He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.

She must get closer.

Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.

Her plan can be put into action now.

Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.

Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.

Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.

Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.

And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.

Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.

“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.

You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.

“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.

Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.

Then:

“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.

Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.

“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.

No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.

✧ KAEYA

Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.

Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.

Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.

But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.

A couple and their daughter.

“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.

His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.

“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”

The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.

You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.

“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.

With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.

“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.

“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.

“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.

Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.

Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.

Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.

Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.

Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.

The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.

Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.

“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”

Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.

“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.

Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.

A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.

“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”

The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.

“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.

Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.

“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.

In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.

Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.

The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.

9K notes · View notes

hopeastrz · 4 months ago

Text

AQUARIUS THROUGH THE HOUSES: where you’re rebellious, the most outstanding and peerless individual.⋆🫐⋆𐙚₊˚⊹🪼♡

CHECK OUT SEPTEMBER SALE: fixed price on any and all of my readings 17 DOLLARS only.

Aquarius is the sign of sudden changes, the sign of unpredictably and where we may feel like we don’t belong or have no desire of following the crowd, that’s why we end up getting repelled by that thing, and find ourselves breaking the rules to make our own path.

NOTE: enjoy this post and don’t forget to reblog, thank you for your support, lots of love xoxo!! ₊˚⊹౨ৎ🩵.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 1ST HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° ON THE AC.

You may have felt the need to constantly change yourself, always have something unique going on, either a new hairstyle, haircut and maybe even naturally you have a unique face, you don’t follow the current fashion style, you have a distinctive sense of style and may prefer to wear vintage things from the past like, wear 90s makeup, or you have a keen eye with you spot trends before they even become a thing. you’re also the type to break traditional beauty standards and public image rules, that may be because you’ve been told and maybe even forced from a young age to act a certain way, project a certain persona of yourself or to possess certain mannerisms, that’s why you hate being picture perfect or just ordinary, you seek uniqueness and rebel in being yourself!, (having pluto on 11th or 10th house may cause that)

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 2ND HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 2ND HOUSE.

Very unique way of handling money, you may have grown fed up with your parents perspective of money for example like: ‘you need to hard work for you money,’ or ‘money is so hard to get that’s why we’re financially unstable’, which stirred this untamed desire within you to challenge it and come up with new ideas to get money, you may work a unique source of money and you may love to keep old antiques!.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 3RD HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 3RD HOUSE.

You have always felt that you don’t belong in your community, your school (you’ve been unlike your peers, you didn’t follow them, which may have resulted in you being bullied or becoming a loner), or the place you grew up in aka your community and your place on the social pyramid, that’s why you took the matters in your own hands and sooner or later you’ll have this urge to change everything, you may feel this need to climb up your social status which could result in you moving to a rich neighborhood for example, change your environment entirely. You may also be the most unique sibling, they may be your step siblings or you just don’t look like them!.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 4TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 4TH HOUSE.

You didn’t want to follow your family’s path for you it seemed, you didn’t want to be like them or you just wanted to be very unique, your mother may have had some expectations for you but you didn’t want to even meet them. This placement may be prominent in the charts of new money wealth makers, you may change your family status drastically, and you may not want to be dependent on them or their resources.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 5TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 5TH HOUSE.

Very distinctive talents, you date the most unique people and maybe even have a very distinctive taste, you go to many underrated artists concerts, visit unique or unknown places during your vacations and also have some real different interests.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 6TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 6TH HOUSE.

You have a unique routine or a specific lifestyle, your parents may have been chaotic, which made you seek discipline in your life, or very strict which made you seek freedom, either way you have a very unique routine in the gym and in your daily life!, also you may have some unique pets and work ethic!, you may be known as the most creative one between your coworkers.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 7TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 7TH HOUSE.

You are uniquely independent, the most distinctive partner, someone who came to break marriages stereotypes of your family or this generation!, you may hate the idea of codependency,having a traditional partner or relationship, which may result in you preferring not to marry at all!, there’s just something about marriages that you see worthless or just unnecessary, and you may prefer to be on your own, your freedom is your one and only love, since you may be traumatized by your own parents marriage. (Scorpio on the 4th house!.)

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 8TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 8TH HOUSE.

Well well, the usual, you may have some unique kinks or sources of income, in other words your job may pay you some money but it won’t be your main source of income, you may know some unique taboo stuff or are interested in some real dark and underrated practices!, you also may be a very unique partner in bed!.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 9TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 9TH HOUSE.

You may feel like you don’t belong to your country, the era you are born in or you may feel very close to another culture than your own. Another thing is that you have been living in another country than the one your parents or you were born in!, I’ve seen this placement occur daily with natives who chose to immigrate and save their families or their own future. Also you may studied a very unique, specific major or went to a unique and underrated university.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 10TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 10TH HOUSE.

Your job is unique, and also your reputation, you may have a very weird and almost taboo public image, which may have nothing to do with the real you!, people say the most flabbergasting things about you, and the rumors you may hear about you make you question everything thing seriously from how bizarre they are lmao, also you may have a unique job of career!.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 11TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 11TH HOUSE.

You’re the most unique one in your friend group, or you just don’t befriend people who look like you, in my head i pictured a group of friends full of rockstars and then there’s you all sunshine and rainbows lmao. You also may have some very rebellious dreams you chase, things that people may feel like they’re impossible for you to achieve!, like to be a millionaire or billionaire!.

AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 12TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 12TH HOUSE.

You are the most unique when it comes to being spiritual, like these people are the best when it comes to spiritual advice or guidance, your parents may have been so religious or quite the opposite so you had to become spiritual on your own and make your own path, also you guys sleep.. weirdly????, pls stop tossing and turning😭!!.

#astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology aspects #astrology degrees #astrology houses #astrology planets #astro notes #astro observations #uranus astrology #aquarius #astrotips #astro #astro community

1K notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 9 months ago

Text

King of manifesting | CL16

― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader ― Warnings: curse words and typos; ― Summary: You've been secretly dating Charles for a while, but fans can't believe it when the rumors start to go around. What do you mean a vroom-vroom Ferrari guy is dating their idol? (based on this request).

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

yourusername

liked by sza, charles_leclerc, and others

yourusername NOT AN ANGEL

view all comments

tyla I am so readyyyyy 😍

holdmeyn mommy- I mean- mommy- yes mommy- 😳

biebernation this new single is about to feed me so well I won’t ever be hungry again

monaclerc ariana (charles) what are u doing hereeee

tsunodalover I love Charles but I’ll have to agree with the twitter stans… his chances are low to zero

onedsainz its the hottest woman alive 💞💕🧡💝💜💘💖💙💕🩷💙💕🧡💗💚💓💛🩶💜🧡💕💙🤎🤍🩷💙💕

popyn she’s so pretty and so talented, hows that possible

ylnmidnights someone tell that vroom vroom guy to get lost!!!! 😤😤 yn is for the gays and the girls only!

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton, and others

charles_leclerc it's just me and you 🩵 2.0

view all comments

igfansixteen 2.0 as in two months right? 😀

⤷ sunshineyn no bestie, I think as in tow years....

yourusername my golden boy ❤️

yourusername I love you

⤷ charles_leclerc I love you more

⤷ hammertimerfour I believe him lol

⤷ oconzinho he's a simp fr

zendaya 😍😍😍

sza so... new love song when?

⤷ f1direction she's just like us, I love her

popyn I still can’t believe he bagged her

sixteenmonaco I’m Charles’ fan and even I am having trouble believing his non stop talk about her worked 😭

schumicedes God, I see what you've done for others......

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! :D let me know your thoughts! and, as usual, reblogs and comments are always welcome *mwah*

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @v1naco @skepvids @khaylin27 @bernelflo @fakehappy27

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

― Reminder: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

1K notes · View notes

norikuna · 2 months ago

Text

BORN TO DIE — Geto Suguru minors dni!

prologue. → it's been three years since suguru left all you had ever known, crumbling it into the fine dust of the earth. a suspiciously timed mission from gojo leads you right into the arms of the man you swore to kill. well, fuck him right?

pairing. geto suguru x afab!reader

warnings+. implied/mild gojo x reader, lovers to enemies, or enemies to lovers, past relationship, injuries, mentions of blood, reader is lowkey violent, some establishing plot idk, geto is kind a jerk (well he's a cult leader so) but hes also down bad, making out, doing it raw and desparate (wrap it before yall tap it!), creámpie etc, minor mentions of infidelity, ríde him until he sees stars trope, minor implied stsg, suguru lowkey a messy slút for this <3 🩵

word count. 4.5k song inspiration. born to die — lana del rey

a/n. heehee

mp3.. my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

ask to be added to a taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated <3

fuck suguru geto.

literally.

it had been days of you tracking down a mere rumour of curses that haunted this side of the mountain, and you know you're close — close enough to feel the cold prickling along your skin, ripe with cursed energy with that taste of something unnatural and spectral in the air.

gojo had delegated this mission to you, claiming that you had a natural born talent for hunting curses, but you knew the truth was that he had laid on the flattery thick, so that he could kiss you chastely on the cheek, go take a day off, and let you handle this one on your own.

but just as you raise your hand to cast a light, a flash of movement catches your, a fleeting gleam, drawing you off the trail before you even realise where you're going.

you round the grove, and the sight ahead steals the breath from you. through the night's shadows, a pale blue light pulses, illuminating a tall figure whose outstretched hand has already grasped the curse, right into a neat orb.

it would take only a heartbeat to recognise the sorcerer, but you feel as though your heart has leapt into your throat, your blood pulsing under the thin skin, with such dizzying shock. your chest has tightened, and each breath is laced with something sharp and electric — not sadness, nor grief.

anger.

suguru geto.

you swallow against the burning in your throat, his features are half-lit by the eerie glow of his cursed technique, and yet they are sharper than you remembered, refined and all the more hauntingly familiar.

but he's turned, with his raven hair spilling over his shoulders, and violet eyes meet your own, and you scowl as his lips curl up, voice smooth as he speaks.

"hey. it's been a while."

"you...you — fuck you!"

ugh, now it's just embarrassing. you had spent three years, pondering and wondering what cutting words you'd deliver upon suguru geto when you saw him again. and now you can barely get a sputter out without your eyes wandering over him.

geto raises a singularly arched brow, "don't you think we should catch up first?"

"i should kill you," you wonder if your fractured voice betrays how quite literally unravelled you feel right now, like the earth has fallen out beneath you, and you're not sure if you're moving towards him, or taking a step back, "oh my god, i should actually just kill you."

you wonder how you should do it. draw a blade and let it kiss his skin, to see red split out from his throat. or if you just forgo a weapon and push the air from him until his creamy skin is red and bruised.

but he's beautiful, he's so beautiful and it leaves you wondering if this is how orpheus felt when he turned around in that tunnel, and saw eurydice again. if he was also planted in the ground, unable to move at the sight of what his heart most wanted.

the boy who once broke your heart is now a man, draped in robes of deep purple and green, and gold. a man with ghostly eyes that leave you unsure on whether you're furious, or wanting.

still wanting to wrap your hands around his throat, perhaps. you tamp down any other traitorous thought.

"what's your business here?" you manage, and you wonder if he can hear a tremor, and a crack where all that hurt was buried when you were seventeen years old.

but geto just smiles, "you don't think i'd notice the presence of a curse on my own estate? or a jujutsu sorcerer? you've come a long way, haven't you?"

"huh - your estate?"

ah, it hits you, as you follow your line of sight behind geto's head, past the thick trees that you've been wandering in, to where silver rods strike up, out into the dark sky — the roof of what's clearly an important building, the time vessel association.

you cross your arms, "you mean your bullshit cult?" you wonder how quick you can pull out a knife, one of several that you must have taken with you on your missions.

now it's his turn to scowl at you, and a petulant expression dances across his face, but geto doesn't address your barb, "you've come a long way, did satoru send you here?"

you bark out a laugh, "that's gojo to you now."

now he’s right in front of you, and you force yourself not to swallow or betray even a flicker of nerves.

you hold his gaze, determined and unwavering but geto has always been tall, his frame deceptively broad beneath the layers of his robes, but standing this close, you catch the heady scent of allspice and sandalwood, maybe even some ceremonial incense.

"oh, i'm sorry. only you get to call him satoru now, is that right?"

you're not stupid, you know that there's an undertone of a question in his snarky tone, well fuck him. you don't owe him an answer of what your life has been like in the past three years (nor what gojo's has been like, for that matter).

he watches you for an answer, with a face as elegent as an idol in an ancient shrine, pale and luminous against the moon-lit sky. you briefly wonder how a tall, beautiful boy who floated around campus with headphones around his neck, and an obscure band-tee, had managed to peel off his skin and carve himself into something more holy, like a heian-era deity.

"suguru," you finally breathe, and your head feels jumbled and aching. he tilts his head, lips parted, as if he's been waiting for his name to fall from your lips, and he's savouring it.

"come with me," he says simply, gesturing to the shadowed building behind him, and his hand lingers in the air, as his pale, slender fingers reach towards your own, "just this once, you don't have to tell him, y'know."

yes, you know. you should refuse, fuck, you should have been grinding his blood into the earth, for the night has no time for traitors. and if you were to take his hand, it would make you one as well.

oh, how easily suguru geto has always been able to unravel you, and all you've ever known or believed in.

suguru's fingers are like ice as they close around your wrist, with a firm but unhurried grip, pulling you along that makes resistance feel almost laughable.

you try to twist free, but he only glances back, with a teasing smile over his face, "still as defiant as ever," he murmurs, and you're not sure whether your cheeks are flushed from how he's drinking the sight of you in.

"i wouldn't be if you weren't dragging me through this place like some prisoner."

suguru laughs, "is that what you are?" and a dangerous, dormant merriment glints in his violet eyes, "i thought you'd come with me willingly."

his voice is maddeningly calm, as if this was some routine rendezvous, as if he hadn’t walked out of your life three years ago and left nothing but emptiness behind. suguru leads you down a long hallway lined with tall, flickering candles, their dim glow casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. it's so quiet you can hear your own breathing, each inhale tinged with the scent of incense that lingers on his robes.

you give another half-hearted tug against his grip, but his hold only tightens, but he stops, looking down at you, his gaze softening, almost pitying. "save your strength. we’re nearly there. and i need you to behave, and be quiet."

you hate the way your heart races at his touch, at his command, at the intimacy of this shadowed corridor that seems to belong to no one but the two of you.

"and where exactly are you taking me, suguru?" you ask, voice brittle.

"patience. you'll see soon enough."

he leads you forward again, each step echoing through the silence until he finally stops at a large, dark-stained wooden door. his fingers slide away from your wrist, leaving your skin tingling in their absence, and your own fingers curl outwards wanting to reach for his again before you tuck your hand away shamefully.

you can see his smile out of the corner of his eye. he knows this, and more.

but now suguru glances back, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "you came all this way," he says, voice low. "i thought you wanted to catch up."

yeah. catch up.

that's exactly what you'd call it when you barrel through the doors alongside him, and push your mouth against his, hearing the satisfying breath that he draws before he's moving against you too.

you lean into suguru, feeling the heat radiate from his broad body as every nerve in your skin awakens as his lips crash against yours with a fervour that leaves you breathless. it's been three long years since you last felt this, anything, like this and you fight back whatever demon lurches within you — an ode to bittersweet rage, longing and want.

you can taste him in your mouth, a mix of mint and even something sweeter, and it stings you, pricks at every cut he must be leaving over you. but suguru's hands grip your waist, and you wonder if he feels just as you do. but he must, for his arms have pulled you in, anchoring you onto his chest, as if he's afraid you might slip away (just as he had, from you).

you don't know where the tears came from, but salt runs down your cheeks, mingling in with your kisses, and you take a moment to pull away from him, and trace his face with shaking fingers.

"i should hate you," you breathe out, but how can you when he stares down at you as if you've reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. a killer, a traitor, a murderer. but it's still him all the same.

but his lips are now on your face, as his tongue runs over the streaked sorrow, licking it right up, "don't," and now his tone is pleading, suguru geto is pleading above you, "i can't live with you hating me. just let me do this."

he leans into your more deeply and your hands move instinctively, slipping beneath the soft fabric of his robes, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. you explore the contours of his muscles, tracing the lines of his body, every touch igniting a spark that sends shivers through you, makes your own core feel heavy.

it's delicious how his breath hitches as you slide your hand even lower, past the waistband of his pants, right where the hard evidence of his desire is plain, and there's a satisfying rush of power that courses through you at his response, at the breath of air suguru rushes through his teeth in a low keen as he separates yourself from your panting mouth, to trail his soft lips on the sensitive skin lower.

his teeth briefly sink into the juncture of your neck, and you jolt at the brief pain before he runs his tongue over the fresh marks, soothing, hot.

his large hands are both under your top now, moving over the expanse of your stomach and up, up until they cup both your breasts, pinching, and twirling and leaving you slick with the arousal that has gathered at the apex of your thighs.

"so pretty, ah! so - pretty," suguru breathes, and you quirk your lips up as he lowers you slowly to the mat. he'd let you to quite a bare room, with nought in it save for the floor and the walls, but you're honestly content with him having his way with you like this.

you should feel guilty, you should be seeing blue eyes peering up at you from between your thighs, white hair plastered with the sweat of exertion.

but instead, all you see is the twilight sky, brushstrokes of black and dusky violet as suguru takes his place on his chiselled stomach, as you feel the mat press into your shoulder blades while you lay flat on your back.

"stay with me, gorgeous," he murmurs, his breath warm against the skin of your thighs. his plush lips brush against your mound, and you squirm and shake from the need, the need to feel his mouth lower and you cannot help but just arch into him, mewling as he starts drifting his fingers down.

"oh my god, oh!," you're almost embarrassed to be put in this position, moaning like a wanton whore, but you can't just bring yourself to stop, "fuck, suguru. can you please -"

and you're bucking your hips up towards his mouth, begging him to get a hint, and give you a hit of the pleasure that you're so craving.

but suguru stares at you flatly, and then in between your legs almost methodically, like he's waiting for something, and the flat of his palm rests heavy over your clothed cunt.

"i don't think so," he mutters, "tell me something first," and he's playing with the elastic band of your underwear, pulling it to the side before snapping it back, thwack!

"tell me you don't hate me. i need to hear you say it, that you never hated me," and you can feel a new bruise bloom on the inner corner of your thigh from his teeth's ministrations.

"i don't hate you! please, suguru, i could never, ah! -" and you don't get the chance to even finish your sentence before the man is pressing his tongue straight to the damp, translucent patch of fabric that's been soaked with your slick.

his teeth have caught on the fabric deliberately, and he's pulling the fabric, up and up, and the sight makes you so incredibly delirious that you wonder how on earth you're going to recover after this.

and to your credit, his eyes have gone wide, and hazy even — and you enjoy watching him swallow, adam's apple bobbing as suguru seems so entirely pussydrunk, just from you alone.

oh, now you have an idea, and so you pull yourself up and onto him, and he lets you push him down so your positions are reversed. he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair splayed out and falling over his flushed face, as you straddle his thighs, lewdly dripping over his robes as you try to gain some friction from the fabric.

"you're so desparate, baby. didn't think you'd be so — mmph! fuck!" it seems that all it takes to shut suguru geto up is a well-intentioned roll of your hips against his groin, and his hands shoot up to find their place on your waist, rubbing small circles over your hipbones.

you let out a shaky laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his again, "yeah, that's what i thought," and you kiss him, quick and almost outstandingly chaste, and you grin in satisfaction as he leans up again to chase your lips as soon as you separate.

as moonlight spills into the room, you decide to make short work of his robes, reaching underneath the silk to part the fastening, revealing the smooth ripple of muscle underneath, illuminated like godly marble in the silver light. suguru's gaze is fixed on you, his breath shaky and quickening, as he lets you trace your nails lightly over his abdomen.

taking a quick breath, your fingers slide beneath the waistband of his pants once more, and you relish at how suguru's entire body tenses at your touch, his breath hitching, "oh, fuck! right there," as your hands make contact with his cock, feeling the soft skin and the steel underneath. it's large, and heavy in your hands and you gulp, and realise now he's enjoying your reactions.

"there you go, you've had your fun," he breathes out, before shifting your hips back till you're situated right over his cock, "now, let me handle this."

you're barely given a few seconds to catch your breath before he sheathes himself, gliding straight into you thanks to the obscene amount of arousal practically weeping from your cunt, and you keen up at the sky, writhing from the delicious stretch of his wide cock that's made its home in your gummy walls.

"oh, ahh - suguru! wait, let me -," and you shift yourself, groaning as you feel his cock right in the sweetest spots, so you're in his embrace and he gladly envelops his arms around you, bringing you closer and planting desparate, hot kisses on your skin as your nails create crescents in his smooth skin.

suguru seems just as whipped as you are, gone from this mortal plane of the earth and onto a higher level of existence, just from your pretty, tight pussy that's holding him together, "keep doing that, pretty, look how. good. you. take. me."

and each word is punctuated by suguru's hips bullying into yours, pushing his cock deeper and further than you thought you could ever handle, as his mouth pants under yours, "taking it like a fuckin' champ. missed this, missed this so much."

you missed it too, chasing after the feeling of threading your fingers through his soft black locks, feeling him shudder as you scraped your nails down the back of his head,

"yeah, that's it," oh, suguru's always been mouthier like this, when you're sucking up him so deliciously, ramming his hips and angling them in a way that has your abdomen tingling, and has your eyes (and his) seeing stars and the heavens.

he taps his shoulders, where his dark robes have slipped off, revealing the smooth expanse of toned muscle and hot skin, "hands here, baby. keep you steady, yeah?"

and you plant your hands on his chest, determined to swivel your hips in a way that has you gasping for air, and glancing down right where - fuck, where you can quite literally see his bulge through your skin.

"oh, suguru! ah, keep doing that!" you desperately hope that these premises were vacated, for your unrestrained moans must have been rippling through the thin walls, strained and throaty as they bounced off wood.

and you just couldn't pull your eyes away from the sight of him, intoxicating as he was. suguru under you, broad chest heaving as he caught his breath with every rock of your hips — with a flush painting his creamy skin, framed by dark strands of hair that fanned messily around his face, falling in careless waves over his forehead and brushing against his cheekbones.

you couldn't help yourself, curling your fingers in the unruly halo and drawing him up, closer to your face as his crimson-bitten lips parted slightly, clacking around a deep groan.

his mauve eyes lifted away from the swell of your chest once more, hazy with exhaustion, but they softened as they met your own gaze with an almost reverent, quiet awe. even lying there, while you quite literally rode him to hell and back, cunt pulsing against his cock in a way that left you both breathless, he looked at you as if you were some vision, and his rosy-bruised mouth curled again.

"always thought you - hah - looked like a dream," he murmured, his gaze tracing your face as if he were committing every detail to memory, "i used to think that i had forgotten, or tried to forget how beautiful you were, are."

"but now," and he bucks his hips into a steady tempo, a constant allegro, "seeing you here, like this as if you were made for fuckin' me, how could i ever forget?"

his fingers are still under your top, brushing against your spine and you mewl, pressed close enough to him so your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest.

"stay a little longer, yeah?" he whispers, "just let me look at you, fuck! don't think i'd ever be able to stop lookin' at you anyway. can't get enough of you," and he reaches a hand in between your thighs, finding your swollen clit and beginning to run soft circles around it with the pads of his fingers, "don't think i'll ever get enough."

it's becoming too much, the harsh smack of his skin against yours, the feeling of your throbbing clit being showered with white-hot attention from his quick hands, the counter of his dense shaft gliding down your pliable walls, spanning them out until you can feel him so deep within you, "fuck, it's too good - mmph, way too good, i can't -"

you're practically tangled in his arms, in the arms of a man who should have been an enemy, a traitor, one who crumbled all that you held once dear. but his chest rises and falls erratically against yours, and you can feel him heartbeat jump, grounding you in the most unbearable way,

his fingers are now bruising your hips, leaving marks that you're sure (in the back of your mind, somewhere that's still rational) satoru would easily be able to recognise but you can't bring yourself to care.

you can't tell whose tears are staining the fabric of his robes between you, his or yours. the line between the two of you blurs as much as the fog in your mind from the way his cock has driven into you, made its imprint in a way that you'll never forget.

"suguru -" you're wondering if your poor, torn heart will just simply give out now, why is it so hard to breathe? each press of his fingers against your clit has you moaning over the shell of his ear, "i'm close, hah, i'm so close, suguru."

he chuckles weakly, bubbling from him and mingled in with a grunt, "yeah, i fuckin' know. i know." and his soaked fingers are still drawing circles in your sticky arousal that's leaking from you, over his cock, over his robes, dampening the dark trail of hair that coats his groin.

"always been mine." and as he bites your neck, teeth sinking into you, you feel the coil in your abdomen snap! and god, you don't think you could ever go back. not like this.

you can't even imagine the picture you must paint now, lips parted and open as you feel yourself being rocked through your orgasm in a way that leaves you untethered from the earth. how the spasm of your walls must finally trigger his own release, and suddenly he's stiffened too as thick, creamy ropes of his seed find their home in you, "see, mine. always mine, don't go soft on me now, pretty. oh my god, fuck!"

all you can truly do is let him handle you now, let his arms tighten and pull you in as close as possible, so his teeth are tugging on your lips, kissing right into your mouth as you ride out the stars of your own release, tears springing to your eyes once more from the overstimulation, hands digging into the woven mat under him.

later, you lie in suguru's arms, wrapped up entirely in the exhausation (and guilt, oh fuck, the guilt of what you've done) of the world, and everything else feels hazy and irrelevant. the steady rhythm of his breath in small puffs is the only thing grounding you, the warmth of his chest rising and falling against yours. he's tracing soft lines across your back, like he's trying to memorise the feel of you.

"suguru," you whisper, your voice breaking once more on his name, lips close to the damp skin of his neck. you're not sure if you're still crying, or if this is the quietest, most intimate form of surrender that has replaced the weathered storm.

he doesn't speak for a long moment, but his grip has tightened on you, as though he's trying to draw you even closer, like your soul will meld into his, "don't," and his voice is ragged raw, "you don't have to leave just yet."

the quiet desperation in his words cracks your heart, and for the first time in three years, the distance between the man who had become a shadow, and the boy you once knew feels almost unrecognisable.

his face turns toward yours, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for something to anchor him, something to give him the assurance that all the destruction he’s caused, all the distance between you, can still be undone.

but you’re not sure if it’s possible.

you want to say something, anything, but the words lodge in your throat, too heavy and too tangled to escape. you let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart, matching the pace of your own.

"i don’t know if i can stay, suguru," you say, "how can we go back to what we were?"

"then let me make it up to you," he says softly, his voice shaking with a quiet urgency, as though this is the last chance he’ll ever have. "let me show you what i've built here. that you don’t have to leave."

if you stay, you risk losing yourself. you risk losing the anger that you had cherished, and treasured, nurtured and held onto. the anger that had guided you through the world. still, as you meet his gaze, something inside of you shifts. maybe it’s the way his hands slide gently up your back, steady and sure.

"please," he breathes again, his forehead resting gently against yours. "don’t leave. do not do to me, what i should never have done to you."

the moonlight spills through the cracks of the window, and it brings to mind the flicker of bright blue eyes, six eyes, alongside their warmth and steady presence, and you wonder if the earth will swallow you whole for what you've done.

you should never have come here. you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get caught up in suguru's gravity again, shouldn’t have let him pull you back into this mess of old feelings and broken promises.

suguru's low, tired laugh pulls you from your thoughts, his breath warm against your skin. he pulls back slightly, his dusky eyes gleaming with something you can’t quite place — a spark of surprise, maybe amusement, even a little mockery, but there is no lie in his eyes.

"satoru?" he says, the name slipping from his lips with a touch of disbelief. "you really think he hasn’t visited me in the past three years either?"

#jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #works #getou suguru #daphworks

426 notes · View notes

mostly-marvel-musings · 4 months ago

Text

The suit stays on

A/N: What? How’d this happen? I don’t even know. But it did. Here it is. I am back in the Jackman-verse now, voluntarily and irrevocably. I want to thank @stark-ironman for all the thirst trap pictures and encouragement 🩵 Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story!

Pairing: Hugh Jackman x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut. Minors DNI.

Main Masterlist

“Oh no, the suit stays on.”

You had whispered against his ear when he was about to strip; you were at the end of your tether watching him strut his stuff for hours wearing that criminal outfit.

The ache between your legs had got to a point where you’d lost the ability to think straight. It wasn’t like your needs weren’t satiated mere hours ago, wasn’t like you were deprived of that gorgeous body that could only have been chiseled by the Gods, no.

You were well aware of how greedy you were being, but all your sense of rationality had found its way out the door when you’d seen your man walk out in the suit. The little salt and pepper bristle only added his sex appeal, making for additional friction each time it brushed against the most sensitive parts of you.

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” He had grunted, wrapping a hand around your throat with enough pressure that it walked a thin line between pleasure and pain. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Only when it comes to you.” You choked, smirking as you were rewarded with everything you had hoped for.

His cock travelled to the deepest parts of you, brushing the very spot that had you seeing stars as your walls clenched around him. Lust travelled over your skin leaving trails of goose-pimples while he impaled you, stoking the fire that burned deep within your core.

You wanted the man. No. You craved him. In every way. How was one ever supposed to get enough of Hugh Jackman?

You certainly weren’t opposed when he pulled out all of a sudden, only to bend you over the nearest desk, uncaring about the mess you’d already made. A primal grunt resounded off the thin walls as he entered your sopping heat again, not holding back at all this time.

With every thrust, you gripped the edge of the table tighter until your knuckles turned white, your climax approaching quick as you felt your thighs begin to twitch involuntarily.

“I—I’m so close—” you whimpered, revelling in the way his hips snapped against yours in an urgency you both felt.

“I know. Be a good girl and come all over this cock.”

Like the most obedient of students, your body willingly obliged to his command, making the coil inside your belly snap into smithereens. Your orgasm crashed over you like a violent wave, making your walls flutter as you cried out his name.

Reality was a mere distant thought as you allowed yourself to float on a cloud of ecstasy, your heart beating erratically against your ribcage and throbbing down there. You faintly registered his cum spilling on your lower back as he climaxed, making the most sinful noises that were music to your ears.

Cleaning up consisted mostly of lazy kisses and a crafty grin that refused to leave your lips. You had gotten your way again and you both knew it would continue in the future.

What do we think? It’s my first time writing for this man. (Will it be the last? Idk yet) ALSO I CAN’T WITH THIS LOOK 🫠

#hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman imagines #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman #hugh jackman one shot #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x female reader #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings

542 notes · View notes

xxsabitoxx · 1 year ago

Text

Get to Know Me!

This is just a fun little thing I’ve been wanting to do since the dawn of time but could never find a post to reblog that satisfied what I wanted. So I made this, feel free to reblog and use it yourself!

❤️ how tall are you?

🧡 what is your sexuality?

💛 what is your favorite feature on yourself?

💚 where are you from?

🩵 do you have any pets?

💙 do you have any siblings?

💜 describe yourself in five words or less!

🩷 dream job?

🖤 favorite hobbies outside of your blog

🎂 when is your birthday?

🌙 your zodiac (Sun, Moon, Rising)

💉do you have tattoos and/or piercings

🚗 can you drive?

✈️ favorite place you’ve traveled

🎤 have you been to a concert

🎵 favorite artists

🎧 last song you listened too

📺 last show you watched

📝 last thing you wrote

🔐 something no one would guess about you

🧟‍♀️ scariest thing that’s happened to you

🔥 craziest thing that’s ever happened to you

🍓 favorite food

🍅 least favorite food

🍊 favorite season?

🍋 favorite genre to read / watch / write

🍐 if you could make one character real, who would it be

🫐 some place you’d love to visit

🍇 a word your friends would use to describe you

🍒 what is your earliest memory

🍌 what is one talent you wish you had

💌 why did you start this blog?

✏️ when did you start writing fanfic

🖇️ what are your favorite asks to answer

📚 how do you come up with the fics you write

📌 what is the fic you’re know for

🔍 what character do you enjoy writing for the most

🖊️ what character do you not enjoy writing for

💔 is there a fic you wish you didn’t write

❤️‍🔥 what character do you simp for most often

🧚‍♀️ favorite characters of all time

🪐 favorite shows / series of all time

🌝 a show you would recommend to anyone

🌚 a show you’d tell people to stay away from

🌹 favorite kinks to write for

🥀 kinks you would never write for

🌊 a kink you would like to write but you think you’d be judged

❄️ full fics, imagines or head canons

☂️ your favorite fanfic from another writer

A couple of in depth questions!

🍄 what is something that’s happened in your life that you wish you could go back and change?

⭐️ what is one of your biggest accomplishments? Why is it so important to you?

🪻what is the toughest thing you had to go through, but can say you’ve successfully overcome?

🌺 what is the best gift someone has ever given you and why is it so important

🍀 what is your comfort show/series and why is it your comfort show? How has it helped you?

#also you can fully ask me lol #get to know the person behind the blog #get to know me #idk what the fuck to tag this #emoji game #ask game #send me asks #idk man #get to know the author #smut writer

5K notes · View notes

positively-mine · 1 year ago

Text

You're a girl?!

how they find out you're a girl and their reactions

tags: afab (Floyd's part talks abt female anatomy), slight spoilers, lmk if there's any other

Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚

Azul

After his overblot incident, he assumed that you both had ended up becoming acquaintance (he won't give up on his 2nd branch at ramshackle). So he's keeping an ear out for opportunities. Also since he has contracts with so many students, he hears an unusual rumour. The ramshackle prefect is apparently female? Well, he'll just have to check it out for himself. Sends jade to snoop around but not in a perverted way.

Once the rumours were confirmed to be true, Azul literally bursts into flames. The memories of treating you so ungentlemanly all come flooding into his head. And you saw his chubby baby picture??? Unbelievable. In all honesty though, he doesn't try to get into contracts with you. Doesn't apply to the people around you. We both know who I'm talking about. Even if your friends can't pay, he won't threaten you that he knows because there must be a reason why you're hiding it. He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if someone did that to him with his baby picture.

Jade

He knew from the start. I don't know how but he knows. It's like his secret power. Doesn't do much, but he likes to tease. Either when you're in a crowded space or when you're with your friends. He'll drop subtle hints that you're a female but nothing major. Just enough for you to know that he knows 😐

Overall 4/10 because he keeps messing around with you but since he's one of my favorites we'll forgive and forget. Won't tell Azul because it's HIS secret. So you don't need to worry about Azul threatening you into a deal.

Floyd

He knew as soon as he squeezed you. The minute he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up to his chest he knew. Something along the lines of "eh? Shrimpy, what's this lumpy things on your chest?" And it doesn't help that his voice is l o u d. Once it clicks in his head, he's smiling mischievously at you.

He seems like someone who will use your secret against you. He's bored? He'll come find you. You don't want to hang out? Do the rest of the student body know you're a girl? Yeah, so approach with caution. Once you stop showing any reaction towards his threats, he gets grumpy and pouts. Just make sure you placate him somehow. Because one day he really might just scream out to everyone that you're a girl.

reblogs appreciated!

#azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #jade leech #jade x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd x reader #floyd leech x reader #x reader #twst wonderland #twst x reader #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #octanivelle #octanivelle x reader

2K notes · View notes

lvlyghost · 2 years ago

Text

The Things I Never Said: Part 2

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: upon learning about your pregnancy simon thinks there are things he needs to take care of.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tw: Angst, fluff, hurt with a lot of comfort, banter. The task force is there for you�� i think that's it✨

A/N: here it is, i never planned a second part so forgive me if it's not as good! Still hope you like it. Already working on a request that's similar to this one🐸✨ thank you so much for all the support. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome🩵

Masterlist✨ | Part 1 | Part 3

Simon pulls you closer to his body, one arm draped over your form and hand resting on your stomach. The storm is raging outside, the thunder startles you every five minutes. You stay there in complete silence as the realization of this whole thing settles in your minds. He wants you to be safe now more than ever that's why when he's reliving the events of the day it hits him. He had thought the worst, that you were abandoning him, that you got tired of him. Simon would never say this to you but losing you would be the end of him. Enraged and with his heart racing he had hopped on his motorcycle. The soft caressing of his fingers stops abruptly, body going rigid behind you. You turn your face in worry.

"Simon?" You call him. You were beginning to fall asleep. "What is it?"

"That fuckin' muppet." He snarls. "I was so caught up in you leaving that I'd forgotten he hit you. That cunt... fucking Christ." He sits. "Let me see." He lifts your shirt just above your belly with gentle hands.

"Love, I'm... it's fine." Simon sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes land on the bruised area of your skin.

"What did the doctor say?" He demands, eyes somber.

"She said i should stay in bed for a few days and to not lift heavy things or you know just... overwork myself."

Simon rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands, disgruntled.

"This is on me... my bloody fault"

"Hey, stop now." You stand up, coming to a sitting position to mirror his stance. "You didn't know." Soft hands fall on both sides of his face. "I should've told you before this happened, if anything this is on me."

"If something happened to you i would never forgive myself, kid. Lie down. You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Simon's been waiting for this day since the incident. You're still at home, recovering from what could've ended with you in a hospital bed and a broken heart.

"You sure about this, Sir?" Gaz asks, worried about what might happen. "It's just training right?"

"Just training." Simon's eyes are set on that bastard. Craning his neck he steps on the sparring mat. As much as he wanted to go find him and kill him he couldn't do such thing. But after the images that flooded his mind made him realize how dangerous it had been. What could potentially have happened the rage within him is boiling his blood. And now he needs somebody to pay the price. Choices have consequences and he nearly had a painful one. If he had insisted just more...

Breathing harshly he looks him in the eye. Poor muppet doesn't know what's coming for him. He stands there confidently, thinking he has a chance against Ghost. Not Simon, the man only she gets the chance to see.

This is Ghost about to fight.

For some reason you decided to stop by the local pastry shop and bring something for the task force. You're feeling much better so that's why you're walking down the corridor of the military compound. With a shirt that's nearly too oversized a pair of combat boots and a cap. You figured you could have these outside of the base and enjoy a nice day with your teammates. You missed them already. Since Simon had been reluctant to leave your side, and you loved it that's for sure, but he wouldn't let you do much as simple tasks like washing the dishes or doing the laundry.

Walking past the doors you're greeted with loud cheering and yelling at the two men in the middle of the mat. Your smile quivers until you process the scene in front of you. Not surprised, not worried. He's gonna be just fine. The other poor boy... Price is the first to notice you, approaching you in three long strides. He had decided to stop by and watch, that's how they sort things out.

"Here, let me help you with that." He takes most of the desserts from your hands, scrutinizing your features with slight concern. Your eyes glued to Simon's hulking body. "I'm gonna assume he doesn't know you're here. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm not on duty, Captain."

"I'm not asking as your Captain but as a friend."

You turn to face him with the ghost of a smile on your lips.

"I'm feeling better so I wanted to see you all, maybe we could have these together as soon as Simon is done with his personal grudge."

Price chuckles. Reluctant to see the rest of the fight, you keep talking to John until it comes to an end. More cheers and clapping echoing around the place. You take a quick glance and get a glimpse of the younger soldier limping while he plops down on a near bench, his teammates gathered around him holding a towel out for him to clean up his face. Footsteps approach you and Price, Simon's frowning behind the mask you can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle.

"Hey little lady!" Soap greets you with a big smile, hugging you tightly. "Heard you got all knocked up!"

"For fucks sake, Johnny!" Gaz scolds him. "Have some more respect for the girl."

Johnny rolls his eyes feigning annoyance letting Kyle hug you too.

"Don't bet mad at him. We all know why he had to do it." He whispers before pulling away.

When Simon joins you, you're aware of what's coming.

"You're out of bed." He points out, blankly.

"It's been almost a week. As long as I don't lift heavy things I'll be alright. Remember?" You speak back. You reach out for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. The rest of the team silently walks away to the outside giving you some privacy. Simon studies you, all of you. There's a spark of worry in his blue eyes that you don't like. "Don't worry about me anymore."

He pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he inhales deeply.

"Is that my shirt, doll?" He asks in a hushed tone. You chuckle, burying your face in his chest.

"I missed you, and it smells like you." Simon prompts you softly to start walking outside and join the rest. "You're not hurt, are you?" You stare up at him.

"Don't you worry about me, he wasn't able to land one single hit, love."

You pull him down kissing over the black balaclava where his lips would be.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not telling you Simon." You sigh.

"I understand now why you didn't, kid. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for not making you feel safe enough to tell me. If anything I'm to blame."

"Is there any chance I may touch your belly?" Soap asks as soon as you sit down next to him.

"Yes." You reply with a wide smile.

"No." Simon growls at the same time.

"Jesus! I suppose that naming the child after me is also off the table?"

"Absolutely."

A round of laughs echoing around and along the backyard. Your eyes scanning every person gathered in this very moment. Loyalty, admiration, respect and love.

A family of your own that would soon get a new addition.

"What if it's a beautiful girl?" Gaz interrogates.

Everyone goes silent.

"Fucking hell." Simon whispers.

He's fucked.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod ghost #cod mw22 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost imagine #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #fanfic

3K notes · View notes

veltana · 28 days ago

Text

Saved by the cowboy

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: cowboy!Steve, kind of DBF!Steve, Steve works for your dad, implied sexual harassment (not by Steve), protective!Steve, fluff, angst, grovel, smut, oral (fem receiving), piv sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex (reader is on bc), hint of breeding kink, pet names (sugar), happy ending.

✦ Summary: You call Steve to help you get home from the company holiday party.

✦ Note: I was supposed to write four holiday ficlets based on this, but instead Steve swept in and made me write a whole fic about just him instead 🙈 sorry not sorry! Also, thanks to everyone who helped choose the Steve pic for this fic!

Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome! 🩵

Masterlist | AO3

When the invitation to the annual holiday party came, all your coworkers joked about how wild it would be, but you had brushed that aside. You’d seen your fair share of company get-togethers, and they were never anything special. All the stories about fistfights and cheating scandals always turned out to be exaggerated.

“Hey, newbie!” Susan had called. You had been working there for a couple of months, and the newbie nickname was starting to get old. Still, you had taken a deep breath and turned to her with a smile. “Yes?” “Are you coming to the party? You can ride with me!”

Up until about a year ago, you had been living on the other side of the country, making a name for yourself and climbing the ranks, but then your dad had a health scare, and you realized that no money in the world would be worth it if it meant losing time with your parents. So you had moved back to your small hometown to be closer to them and even help out on the ranch if needed. You had found a nice apartment and lived off your savings until an opportunity had presented itself. It didn’t pay as much as your previous job, but it didn't matter.

“That’s great, Susan, thank you!”

Right about now, as you’re hiding in a small supply closet, you wish you’d never said yes.

It turned out the company provided a free bar at the event, and it hadn’t taken long for everyone to get plastered, including Susan. You had taken it slow, only on your second glass of wine when one of your bosses had asked to see you in private.

Wanting to make a good impression, you followed him, and it wasn’t until you were alone and his grabby hands had reached for your clothes that you realized your mistake. "No, stop!" you had yelled. He had been bigger and stronger, but he was drunk, and that had been to your advantage as you had shoved him as hard as you could and ran. Down an empty hallway, you had found a supply closet and locked the door behind you. Shaking, you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and think about what to do next. Going home with Susan is out of the question and you're in no condition to drive yourself.

Fishing up your phone from your pocket, you scroll through your contacts, stopping at your parents, but it's late and snowing. You don’t want them driving to get you.

When you get to S you stop. Steve Rogers' name seems to jump out at you.

He started working for your father about five years ago and your dad isn’t the kind of guy who just sprinkles praise freely, so when he mentioned him over the phone and said, “That Steve fellow is a good guy,” you knew he would be something else. When you traveled home for the holidays that year he was invited to Sunday dinner. You'd thought he'd be around your dad's age and were shocked when he was much closer to you.

Later he purchased a house not far from your parents, and since he is single and lives alone your mom feels bad for him, which means that he's invited to every Sunday dinner, just like you.

And it's fine.

Except Steve is hot, charming, and nice to everyone. He and your dad get along great. Your mom adores him. But because of that, you keep your distance. No need to complicate things with your dad’s employee.

One day when you had been helping on the ranch, checking the fences with your dad he had out of the blue told you that if you ever find yourself in a situation where you need help and you can't get a hold of him or your mom, you call Steve.

So you do.

Because you usually don't call Steve he knows something is up.

“Hey, sugar, is everything okay?”

"Yeah. I mean no, my ride home is drunk. Well, everybody is plastered, and one of my bosses…" you don’t finish that sentence. "I didn't want to call my parents.”

"Send me the address, I'll be there as fast as I can."

He hangs up without a goodbye and you send him the address. After what feels like ages you get a text that he’s outside. You check the hallway before making your way towards the entrance.

As you near it, you overhear someone whispering about the hot cowboy, wondering who he is. There is a flare of jealousy in your chest at the thought of Steve being with any of them, but as soon as you see him, the feeling in you shifts to something else.

Steve stands just inside the doors, hands in the pockets of his wrangler jeans, with boots, cowboy hat, and his fur-lined jacket that looks so good on him. Hurryingly you collect your coat and go to him.

"Thank you," you whisper as you stop in front of him, shrugging the jacket on. His face is serious, scanning you for injuries, and then he looks up over your head at the crowd behind you. In one smooth motion, he takes off his cowboy hat, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it on top of your head before looking down at you again.

His blue eyes which usually hold softness and mirth are hard, but you know it's not directed at you.

"Ready to go, sugar?" he asks with that perfect voice that makes you hot on a good day. Now, with his hat on your head, and all the implications that come with that, you're ready to melt.

“Yes, Steve,” you nod, hoping you sound normal. He opens the door for you and you don't turn around to say goodbye to any of your co-workers.

His big white truck is parked just outside and you quickly jump in. The cab carries Steve’s scent, wrapping you in a sense of safety. It's like home, but different.

The engine rumbles to life, and the building disappears behind you. He’s driven you home from Sunday dinners a few times when your mom insisted you share a bottle of wine with her. He graciously offered his help then, so there’s no need to give him directions now.

“Are you okay?” he asks and shoots you a look, brow creased in concern. You hum a yes in response and then sigh, "I just didn't want to worry mom and dad." He nods, “I understand.” “Sorry if I ruined your Friday night plans.” “Don’t worry, sugar, there was nothing exciting happening at my end.”

You’ve never been inside Steve’s house but you imagine it’s cozy. He seems like a man who enjoys comfort, despite the way of life he’s chosen, and even if you wouldn’t describe him as a softie, he’s always nice and that’s more than can be said about other cowboys that your dad employs. Maybe that’s why your dad appreciates Steve. He’s hard-working, but never an asshole.

During the rest of the drive you talk aimlessly about the weather and the ranch while the radio plays in the background. Outside your apartment complex, he effortlessly maneuvers his big truck on the small streets and parks it.

You turn to him, "I can’t thank you enough for this.” "Anytime, sugar.”

As you get out, he does the same, rounding the truck. "I'm fine from here," you tell him, not wanting to bother him further. "Absolutely, but my mom raised me right, so I'm following you to the door." "Oh, okay," you smile and when you turn around you feel the light weight of a hand at the low of your back guiding you forward.

At your door, you turn to thank him once again, but Steve asks instead, "Are you sure you're okay? You sounded upset on the phone." "Yeah," you answer. Honestly, you haven’t thought one second of your boss since Steve showed up. His calm, caring presence erases every unease, making you feel safe. The two of you stand in the corridor and look at each other, and in a moment of courage, you kiss his stubbled cheek. "But thank you again for coming to get me," you tell him.

Steve releases a breath and looks at you with lidded eyes. His hand comes up to touch where your lips just were and then he slowly reaches for you. Your eyes widen as Steve’s rough hands caress your cheek. “I’ll always come, if you need me, I’ll be there,” he promises, voice low and sincere.

You swallow hard before catching Steve’s hand with your own and pressing it against your cheek with a sigh, letting your eyes flutter close for a second. You can’t have him, but if this is all the touch you’re ever going to experience from Steve, you’re taking advantage of it. You can blame it on the wine.

“Sugar,” he rasps and you open your eyes again, letting go and ready to let this be a cherished memory. You’re stopped short by Steve’s hand sliding back to cup your neck. His fingers against your bare skin send tingles down your spine that make heat pool in your belly. "Steve," you answer.

He leans a little closer but hesitates. "You had a rough evening," he says. “But you fixed it,” you point out. “I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he leans even closer. "You won’t," you tell him, confident in your answer, gripping his jacket.

His other arm slides around your waist, pulling you close and pressing you against him. The firm strength of him feels so perfect that a soft moan escapes you. In response he lets out a groan, softly brushing his lips against yours, making more tingling sensations shoot throughout your body.

Not wanting to wait any longer you close the small distance and finally kiss him. It’s soft and chaste at first but with an edge of desperation that becomes prominent as Steve deepens the kiss, holding you even harder. Likewise, you wrap your arms around his waist, wordlessly telling him how much you want him.

The two of you jerk apart when a loud noise sounds somewhere else in the building. Without a word, you let go of Steve to reach behind you and open the door to your apartment. For a second his eyes leave yours to look at the invitation. He doesn’t give you a vocal answer, he just goes back to your lips and starts moving you backward.

Inside, he removes his cowboy hat from your head, placing it on the side table before starting to pull at your clothes and as you guide him to your bedroom, you make his clothes come off too.

Together you fall onto the bed in just your underwear. Steve's body is a testament to his demanding job, soft and hard in all the right places and warm against you. His hands never still, they caress and explore you as if he might never get the chance again. When he pulls back, his hair is wild from you running your fingers through it.

“Never thought I would be here.” He kisses your jaw and down the column of your throat. The touch of his hands makes goosebumps burst out over your body. “Never thought you’d have me in your bed,” he continues as he kisses the top of your breasts. “Someone like you, beautiful and sophisticated.” He hooks a finger in your bra and pulls down. “Being with someone rough and dirty like me.”

“You’re not dirty,” you answer breathlessly as his mouth closes over your nipple.

Steve moans, just as you do, arching up against him. He spends ample time on both your breasts, sucking and licking, making you feel crazy with how much you need him. "I’ve dreamt of tasting you, sugar, but I want more than your tits," he admits. “Yes!” you tell him and he shimmies down your body, pressing kisses to your skin and pulling off your panties before settling in between your legs, parting your folds reverently with his thumbs.

“Look at that pretty fucking pussy,” he murmurs before descending on you.

Steve eats you as if you're the last meal on earth, savoring every taste but at the same time wanting to devour you as quickly as possible. His beard scratches the inside of your thighs and your mound, his face buried deep as he pierces you with his tongue, lapping at your channel before going back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Quickly, you're a quivering mess, trying your best not to buck up against Steve's mouth, to be present and savor the experience.

The pleasure envelopes you, making you ache in the best way before the heat rushes to your core at Steve's steady ministrations.

"I'm gonna come!" you tell him, hands fisting the sheets. His only response is a deep hum. Your legs close around his head as you howl his name.

As you come down, and release him from the prison of your thighs he chuckles, before giving your clit one last kiss. Then his lips travel up your body again, stopping to play with your nipples one more time before finding your mouth. Despite your near comatose state, you respond to his kiss, not caring that he tastes of you.

"Please tell me you have a condom," he says against your lips. You feel the hard cock brush your stomach, still in his boxers. As he sits back you admire how it tents the fabric and the wet spot at the front.

But when you shake your head, there is such a pain in his face you're scared he's having a heart attack or something. Quickly you say, "I'm on birth control!" That lights a different fire in Steve's eyes.

"Oh, sugar," he smiles wickedly. Your body is still thrumming from the orgasm but you in no way feel sated. The look of him on your bed brings back all the fantasies you've hidden deeply inside the recesses of your mind, telling yourself that it's no use to fantasize about something that will never happen.

“I got tested right before I moved and I haven't been with anyone since,” you continue. Before you can ask Steve says, “Well, it's not like there's a flock of buckle bunnies up at the ranch to choose from, so it's been a while. Hopefully, I still know how to.”

You raise yourself on your elbows, tilting your head to the side. “If the previous performance is anything to go by I think we'll be good.”

Steve moves to chuck off his underwear, then he's back on top of you again, and you give him your mouth. Hungry is the only way to describe the way he kisses, and when he breaks away you whine, but then you realize it's because he's guiding his dick into you.

“I need to see it,” he rumbles. “I need to see your cunt swallow my cock.”

You part your legs more to give his hips room. You want to watch too but as his tip pushes inside it becomes too much to keep your eyes open. Your arms slide out and you hit the bed, consumed by the feel of him, neverending pleasure. He's thick and long and fills you perfectly. Your insides spasm, wanting more.

"Steve," you whine and wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him close as you move to try and take him deeper. "That's right. Let me hear that sweet voice of yours," he says, stilling all movements.

"Please, Steve, I need it! I need you to fill me up with your cum!" "Oh, sugar, I'm not gonna keep you waiting," he answers and moves. Slowly at first, to let the both of you get used to it. It's impossible to keep in any noise when he thrusts into you. For a second you feel silly, moaning as if you're in some kind of porno, but at the same time, you want Steve to know how fucking good his dick is.

And Steve isn't any better, every time his hips hit your skin he punctuates it with a moan of his own, a deep rumble that only excites you more.

On those forbidden nights, when you allowed yourself to dream of Steve, one thing always came to the front of your mind. “Steve, can I ride you?" you ask breathlessly. “Fuck, yeah,” he answers and in one smooth motion he wraps his arms around your body and rolls you over. It's a wonder you don't fall off the bed.

You lean forward, capturing his face between your hands, kissing him as you move against him. "Take what you need, sugar. Ride your cowboy,” Steve growls into your mouth.

He grabs your ass and fucks up into you while you grind down on him. He's so deep it's driving you insane. Panting you grab the headboard, finding leverage to push your body hard into his thrusts.

“You're fucking divine,” Steve drawls, his grip hardens, lifting you up and slamming you down. “I want you on top of me every day. Ride my dick, or my face, whatever you want, just let me have you!”

At the same time, your clit is rubbing deliciously against him, making the second orgasm build. “Fuck, you're holding my dick so tight, like your pussy doesn't want to let me go.” All you answer with is a strangled mewl, too busy chasing your high.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and come on my dick? And then let me fill you up with my cum, sugar? Is that what gets you off, riding your cowboy until he bursts inside of you?

Steve's words spur you on, doubling your efforts, angling your hips until his dick presses into your g-spot and your clit grinds against his pelvis. You feel him pulsing, knowing he's about to come in you is so hot.

“I'm gonna come!” you gasp. “Yeah, me too, sugar!”

With a cry of ecstasy, the climax washes over your skin, sending convulsions through your muscles. You feel every pulse of Steve's own orgasm and hear him call your name.

You collapse on his chest, both of you panting. Steve hugs you close, his hands rubbing along your back as his dick softens and the cum starts to leak out, but you could care less. Being in Steve's arms feels right. Hearing his beating heart, the scent of sex and sweat in the air, knowing it's from the both of you.

After a while, he speaks, but it's not the words you'd expect. “Fuck, sugar, I promised myself this would never happen. I know your dad likes me and all but I don't think he'd take too kindly to me fucking his daughter.”

The happy high in you bursts into sour bubbles, and the pink, golden afterglow is replaced by the harsh reality.

“What do you mean?” you frown as you sit up. Suddenly everything feels sticky, cold, and gross. “You're my boss’, my friend's, daughter. I can't have you even if I wanted to.”

A lump forms in your throat and you try to clear it before asking, “What are you saying?” “It can't happen again.” “Are you saying this was a mistake?” “Yes, sugar, but it was the best mistake of my life.” “Yeah, okay, well…” you get off him and take the cover to wrap around you. The cum leaks down your legs as you say, “You saw me to the door, and I'm fine, thank you for coming to get me.” “Sugar, please, you understand don't you?” Steve stands up, reaching for you but you shrug his hands away. “You know the way out, I need to shower.”

Without looking back you hurry to the bathroom, listening to Steve gather his things and the sound of the door shutting behind him. You stand even longer looking at the shower running, not wanting to wash away the evidence of Steve's visit, but finally, you do.

You manage to avoid Sunday dinner by claiming you're not feeling well. Your mom offers to drop off some food, but you assure her she doesn't need to. If she shows up and asks how you're feeling you're scared everything is just gonna come blurting out. Before hanging up, she adds, "Dad and Steve hope you feel better soon!"

With effort, you respond, "Yeah, tell them I said thanks."

The following week, you feel like you can't excuse yourself and you just hope Steve won’t be there for some reason.

As you park your car at the house you don't see his truck anywhere, easing the anxiety that sits in your stomach.

At the beginning of December, your mom has decked out the house and yard with holiday decorations. It lightens up the otherwise dark ranch that's far away from any streetlights.

“Oh honey, great to see you!” Your mom greets you at the door with a hug, your dad right behind her. After saying hello and getting out of your clothes, your mom is quick to put you to work. “Can you do me a favor? I left the dessert to cool in the sunroom, can you please get it for me?”

Growing up, the sunroom was one of your favorite places. You have great memories of sitting in the plush reading chair after the sun has set during the summer months, the windows open, and listening to the sound of the animals out in the field. Then, after your dad installed a fireplace, you loved to curl up with your hot cocoa and listen to the crackling of the flames while it slowly heated the space. Just like the rest of the house and yard, it's decorated to perfection, soft lights illuminating the space and making it a magical place.

What catches you off guard are the flower petals scattered over the floor, and in the middle of the floor is Steve on both his knees.

No dessert in sight, if you don't count the cowboy on the ground.

For a short moment, you wonder if your parents knew about this, but then you hear the door shut behind you and that answers it. The room is chilly, but your blood is rushing hot in your veins. You're embarrassed and mad and to your utter disappointment, hopeful for what he has to say.

“Steve?” you ask, crossing your arms, feigning annoyance. “Sugar, I'm here, on my knees to ask for your forgiveness and to please hear me out.” His blue eyes are a weakness of yours but you steal yourself to not fall for the softness in them.

“I assume you told them what happened?” you nod in the direction you came from. Steve looks uncomfortable, even blushing. “Well, I didn't give them any details, but I told them we kissed and that I messed up. Thought your dad was gonna murder me first. He thought I got you pregnant, so I think they figured it out anyway.” “Pregnant?!” you exclaim. It all feels overwhelming, and you bury your face in your hands, wishing you could disappear through the floor.

Then warm rough hands clasp yours, pulling them away carefully. “I also told them that I'm in love with their daughter and if she gives me another chance, I'll prove to her every day how much she means to me.” Steve's voice is soft and earnest; it makes tears burn at the back of your eyes.

You want to be mad, but you haven't been able to stop thinking about his stupid face since he left. The fucker also left his cowboy hat behind, and every time you looked at it you remembered how he placed it on your head the night he came to your rescue. You could have brought it with you tonight and left it on the porch for your parents to find. But you didn't. Secretly you hoped that Steve would have to come by your place to collect it.

But even after acting like an asshole, you're still very much in love with Steve Rogers.

“Yeah, fine,” you say nonchalantly and look away, trying to hide how happy you feel. A finger on your chin turns your head back towards him. “Fine, sugar? Just fine?”

Forcing your stone-faced expression to stay in place you say, “For now, it's fine. Don't think some flower petals, kneeling, and sweet words are gonna make me forgive you just like that.” “Every day, sugar, I'll work my ass off until you do.” You glance at him, taking in the rugged handsomeness of the man before you, and you just can't resist. Leaning in, you kiss his cheek, reminiscent of what caused this whole thing in the first place. But Steve isn't satisfied. He gathers you up and presses his lips to yours. If you said you hadn't missed the feel of his kiss, you'd be lying. So you return it, weaving your arms around his neck and then your legs around his waist as he lifts you from the ground into his strong arms.

“I don't think mom would take too kindly to us fucking in here,” you tell him when you pull away. “No, but after dinner you're coming to my place and staying the night.” “Bossy…” you joke. “I didn't mean it like that, sugar, I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't-” You interrupt him with a kiss. “Steve, calm down, I was joking, it's fine.” “Fine? “Fine!”

And everything was.

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #cowboy!steve rogers #dbf!steve rogers #veltana writes

389 notes · View notes