#as much as i could articulate and put down
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We're sitting at the table I'm glaring at them. These heroes ("The Big Three" as they are known in the industry) are questioning me? ME? They're questioning ME???
These motherfuckers made me come to the Cape Crusaders big, tacky mansion to justify my actions to them?
The thing that pisses me off the most about their reservations is the fact that what I do IS SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT than anything they could possibly do. These idiots just punch bad guys in the face and send them to prison, just so they can escape and start the cycle over from scratch.
I've already saved so many more lives than they ever will. I've made more of a positive impact on this planet than anyone will ever know.
Because my power is to stop disasters, and the most effective way to do that is to prevent them.
No one knows how many wars I've stopped before they began, how many diseases I found vaccines for before they became epidemics, how many cities and countries I've helped create infrastructure for so they could avoid being over run by natural disasters.
And my job is made even more difficult than it sounds because no one can truly fathom how bad things would be if I don't use my powers. I have to fight ppl tooth and nail to get it anything to happen because they don't know how bad it'll be if it's not acted on.
No one sees what I see. They don't feel what I feel. They'll never know the particular ache in my chest that somehow has has an entire narrative wrapped in it whenever a potential disaster hits me. An ache that is so powerful that it's made my knees buckle multiple times.
And the feeling doesn't dissipate until the disaster is fully prevented. It means that when I know something needs to be done, I have to make sure it's dealt with, or-
It's destroying me in a way. Doing so much, all the time, with no compensation or recognition.
The heroes at least know about my powers and know that I have nipped a bunch of really bad shit in the bud.
The villains thing has come up before and it's irritating. For years I thought it was because they were lazy and just were angling for help over shit that I didn't have time for, and in the big picture, didn't matter. Asking for even more help than I already provide.
I'm at my limit already.
But looking at these three at this table in this enormous, extravagant kitchen, it hits me how wrong I am.
These heroes don't have my powers. They can't foresee and stop disasters. For all they know, these clowns that rob banks and occasionally attack and murder people, could cause major disasters down the line. I'm not perfect, I can't stop all disasters. I have to sleep and eat and work a fucking day job.
I still feel residual aches from time to time for every disaster I've failed to stop.
They aren't trying to get more free work out of me, they're trying their best to figure out what villains can do major damage in the future.
They're scared.
"So, the way my powers work," I say while leaning back in my chair, "is that at some point, I know something will go from being an issue to a problem to a disaster. I can only intervene when I know it'll be disastrous, otherwise I can't use my powers, it's like they don't exist. Until something goes over the thresh hold of becoming a potential disaster, it's like I have no powers at all."
"How do you know when a disaster is going to happen? Is it like a vision?"
"It's more internal than that- it's like a feeling I guess...I'm not sure how to articulate it."
Huh, no one has ever bothered to ask me anything specific about my powers or the work I do. I don't have a lot of answers if they keep prodding.
"So, yeah, it's not that I'm neutral to villains, it's just all of the ones you guys been dealing with don't-" I yawned "- don't give me that feeling. I'll let you know if it changes."
I put my head in my hands. Fuck, I'm so tired. It's not like I can stop being a hero, I see the alternate world where I don't intervene, I feel it. But I'm so, so tired.
"Go take a nap."
My head shoots up, "What?"
The Masked Crusader (dumb ass name btw, just like his dumbass mansion) says it again, "Go take a nap. I'll make us all dinner. Go use my guest room and pass out for a bit.
Damn it, did I say I was tired out loud? Or was mind reading one of his superpowers? I can't remember, things have been so overwhelming recently, my memory is shot.
"No, the Masked Crusader can't read minds, that's me" Brainiac says.
Oh. Shit. Right.
"We just, we see you burning out, let us support you for once," chimed in the Singing Banshee.
This was not how I was expecting this conversation to go AT ALL.
Banshee continues, "You've got a lot of walls up, probably from years of running yourself into the ground saving thousands of people without any help. So, we're now going to help you."
"That's not a request by the way," the Masked Crusader says as he slides me a glass of water. "We're doing it whether you like it or not."
Shit, I hadn't even realized I was thirsty. Have I drank any water at all today?
And then *BOOM* I get hit with it- the feeling of an impending but preventable disaster. But it's different than any other disasters I "felt" before.
It's me... It's me, in the near future, collapsing and being unable to do anything about, well anything. I won't be able to stop future disasters, hell, I won't be able to function. And the only way to prevent it was to lean on these people.
This is a lot.
I chugged the rest of the water and wiped my mouth.
"Ok, thanks..." I whispered.
It's too much to think about right now. It's too much to feel right now. I'm not used to, I don't know, being taken care of. I don't know how to be supported.
I'll figure out a way to properly navigate this later. Right now I need to lay the hell down.
You're a superhero who specializes exclusively in stopping disasters. The other heroes just don't understand why you need to remain neutral to the villainsâŚ
#autobio#it's 5am time for me to lay down#proud#creative writing#writing#burn out#mental health#writing prompt
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Something Something Yeah It's Still Solavellan Hours (Mythal is kind of here, too)
I've seen a few very beautifully articulated posts talking about the conflicted responses players are finding themselves having in regards to the decision by writers* to have Solas' atonement route possible because of his conversation with one of the remaining fragments of Mythal.
(*honestly I hesitate to put the weight of bigger game events on their shoulders because of how much I know bigger players in the company were involved, so when you read 'writers' know I just mean whoever had final say on plot)
I love reading where people are at on this, and having now breathed, re-played the scene, cried, read some more theories, and then played the scene again enough times I think I'm now able to figure out where I'm at.
TLDR: in my humble opinion, the conversation Solas has with Mythal doesn't bring him any actual closure at all. It is only the version of the atonement ending that has Lavellan in which he is actually set upon a road to redemption.
This, like everything else where I lose my mind, will be long. I tried to restrain myself and here we are, unhinged as ever.
I was unhappy at first that Mythal's incredibly brief conversation with Solas where she releases him from her service seemed to be what finally allowed him to make a decision based on his wants and not hers. My concern stemmed mostly from the fact that a lot of us are trying to be active participants in a society that recognizes patterns of abuse and seeks to establish channels through which individuals can pursue healing without the approval, consent, or demise of their abuser.
But the more I look at the scene, the more I wonder what would have happened in a world where Veilguard got just a little more time in development. Could we have gotten a scene that more elegantly conveys the theme that we cannot heal every part of our loved ones, much as we might like to?
In an imperfect world it isn't always up to us how someone finds closure, which really sucks when you'd like to ensure a loved one finds it in a way that preserves their dignity and limits exposure to the individuals who have harmed them.
And while it could be left there, I'd like to actually push back on the idea that Mythal is in any way responsible for "healing" Solas in this moment.
I went on a different tirade a few days ago about how at the end of Inquisition, Mythal says words to Solas that on their surface seem well-intentioned or placating, but they actually just serve to further bind him in guilt and a position of servitude. In Veilguard's finale, she still does not take accountability for exactly how much of a role she played in the pain that Solas, a man others have revered and feared as a god, has gone through as he cowers, actually cowers before her.
Mythal's interaction with Solas conveys exactly two things to him as far as I am concerned (I'm going to botch these quotes but my laptop is dying so please accept some paraphrase as I rush to finish this before I go cry about this analysis to my uncaring dog):
"The terrible things we did, we did together." You are forever tied to me.
"I release you from my service." But what am I releasing you to?
Because up until Lavellan joins the fray here, all I take away from the physical and unwilling emotional cues Solas gives in this scene (he is a master in trickery, for goodness' sake, the thought of so many witnesses seeing him unable to hide behind a mask has to leave him feeling anguished on top of everything else) is that Mythal has once again reminded him of everything he did in her name and telling him that all that's left for him is to go back to the fade prison and, as he as always done, endure the crushing weight of his failures alone.
To me, in my interpretation, the Solas that hears this from Mythal with no Lavellan intervention may choose to willingly step down from his original plan (and yeah, that's gonna do some damage) but he is certainly not free of his past. He's going to be reminded of it every time he turns a corner and finds more blight to try and soothe, and even the moments that he rests will be filled with more manifestations of his regret. He says it himself: where he's going? It's terrible.
Enter Lavellan. Yeah, he couldn't bring himself to listen to her at her first plea (but like damn how many times are we going to have to watch her give a heartfelt speech only for him to be like 'something something beautiful elven rejection'). But I know that you know that our clever icon knows better than to take what Solas says at face value. She tells Rook plainly that he's absolute dogshit at lies of the heart, and she says it with her whole chest.
Lavellan sees the way his shoulders slump (in resignation yes, but you can't convince me there's not a little bit of relief there, too), she hears the agony in the "vhenan" that escapes his lips (which, don't even get me started on the fact that it's been like nine years and he has no hesitation at all calling her his heart, it just spills out of him). It is not the sound of a man delighting in the steps he's about to take. They're certainly not steps he does not dislike that lead to a destination he enjoys.
And then she watches Mythal (who I can't imagine she feels any sort of fondness or respect for) pull some weird nonsense on her love one final time, and she knows it's her moment to shine.
Mythal, I would argue, pushes Solas down one more time, shames him into seeking atonement, into once again being alone.
It is the romanced Lavellan that kneels so that he cannot fail to meet her eyes. It is she who invokes their connection, not to remind him of his failures but to reaffirm his greatest strength: their love and their love alone is inevitable. Not the consequences of his past, not the regret he thinks will consume him as he seeks to mend what has been broken. It has only ever been them.
"There is no fate but the love we share". We are forever tied together.
"There is no fate but the love we share." *I* am releasing you from everything else save for this love.
Put colloquially: get absolutely fucking wrecked, Mythal.
Body language comparison to chase up the dialogue one, anyone? The way Solas shrinks before Mythal as opposed to him walking off into the fade with Lavellan at his side and standing tall, and he does not flinch when she lifts a hand to his shoulder?
Ultimately, Mythal is a part of the atonement endings no matter what. But it is only Lavellan that refuses to let him walk alone. It is only Lavellan that guarantees that his dinan'shiral ends not in a prison of regret, but a place of promise.
Mythal bends Solas until he breaks one last time. Lavellan takes each piece, claims it as hers, and uses them to build the beginnings of a future.
#solavellan#lavellan#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#veilguard spoilers#datv spoilers#solas#solas meta#solavellan meta#solavellan hell#solavellan heaven
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Some times I stumble across something that makes the phrase 'Self Made Man' run through my mind and I'm reminded once again of Franky, and it's sad, but it's strong too.
He built himself, put himself together, you can't forget that. He did it for love, for survival, and he looks on the outside the way he wants to be on the inside, and that's good.
But in building yourself, breaking yourself down to put all the little shards back into a self that is you, you loose so much of the self that was you.
It's made of the same things, maybe with more additions and replacements, but fundamentally the same brain, heart, soul, but is it you?
You've changed so much and you'll continue to change yourself to meet your ideal, and it's good, and it's worth it, it has to be, but still you loose so much of the before.
A Self Made Man.
Someone who has clawed their way to their true self, tore their old bodies apart more than once to fit it together right, and will no doubt tear it apart and build it up again when they outgrow it.
Someone who has left their past behind, abandoned it, cannibalized it, tore it apart for scrap and kept only the good pieces.
How much of the you from the beginning is left?
Was it worth it?
Will you even stop to wonder?
#franky#one piece#one piece franky#self made man#feels#it doesn't make sense#but it's here anyway#as much as i could articulate and put down#do you know what being a self made man means??#well this is what it means to me
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@brummiereader Thank you so much, Brummie! I'm so glad that you liked this final chapter! đ¤
Oh, I am so glad that you caught onto Lucy feeling differently about threesomes! I really wanted to articulate a change within her and make her appear overall just tired and worn down by everything that has happened, and I am so glad that came across. She still hasn't fully recovered from what Luca did to her.
I always had this feeling that Lizzie getting pregnant pretty much killed most enjoyment that Lucy could get from threesomes. The anxiety of another potential accident happening is just too much. And while they were fun at one point, I also think some of the novelty of them has worn off for her. She just wants Tommy now and actually enjoys herself more when it's just him because she doesn't have to worry about putting on a show for anyone else. But with certain things like Jessie, it's for work, so she still agrees to it.
He saw how the cat managed to make her smile, and that pretty much sold him on it dhsgjkdshg đ¤. He's happy with anything that'll make Lucy happy at this point.
If Tommy knew how Lucy was feeling; cast aside and not really a real part of his family, he'd been heartbroken. He really is trying his best, but I don't think he entirely knows what to do for her, and Lucy isn't communicating what she's feeling to him as much as she usually does. She feels too guilty saying that she needs anything from him because she thinks all his time should go towards his "real" family đ (even though she's of course part of his real family too even if she doesn't think so).
Thank you so so much for reading this fic and leaving such wonderful comments, Brummie! I know it was a long one, and I cannot tell you how much your support means to me! This next part won't be as long, but it's gonna be quite angsty! đŤŁ
Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir
Fandom:Â Peaky Blinders
Pairing:Â Tommy Shelby x OC
Summary: Tommy's ambitions take them to new heights, but not without consequences looming on the horizon.
Word Count: 4,005
Notes: I originally considered including some more detailed aspects--even potentially a full chapter--detailing Lizzie's pregnancy and Ruby's birth, but I have tokophobia, and just wasn't comfortable going into that much detail regarding that topic. So apologies to anyone who wanted to see more of that. And I promise that the Lizzie drama is only just beginning, and will be a big part of the next couple parts, so please consider checking those out once they're posted if you're interested in seeing a continuation of that aspect of the story.
Also, I just want to give a huge thank you to everyone who has read this story. This is to date the biggest single fic I have ever written, and the support you have given me means so much. I promise to have more featuring Tommy and Lucy out very soon!
Warnings for depictions of insecurity, sexual content, PTSD, and references to torture and pregnancy. Bit of a bittersweet ending here, so sorry about that!
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Chapter 29: Shake Hands with the Devil
Returning to work had been the right idea.
Already, Lucy was starting to feel better, work helping to drive the dark thoughts that had been plaguing her lately to the back of her mind. They were still there, but they werenât nearly as loud as they once were.Â
Tommyâs new plan required a good amount of logistics and organizing, both of which she was eager to take on. And another action, one somewhat less desirable, but just as necessary.Â
She was surprised at just how easy it was to get Jessie to give up the name of the leader of the cell. All it took was a kiss from Tommy and a declaration that he wanted to help her cause to have information already spilling from her lips.Â
But then again, Tommy always seemed to have that effect on women. And Jessie, despite how she may have presented herself, was desperate for connection.
âYou alright?â Tommy asked, after Jessie had left the office with the promise that theyâd meet up later.
âI feel a little bad for what weâre doing to her,â Lucy sighed, leaning back into him while his hands rested on her upper arms, chin settling on the top of her head.
âIf you really donât want to go through with it, we can figure something else outââ
âNo, itâs fine.â She turned around in his arms to face him, resting her head on his chest, leaning into the warmth of his body.Â
It was a shitty thing, what they were doing to Jessie. But fucking her was necessary to ensure her loyalty until the election was done. And to maintain the steady stream of information she could provide them about the communistsâat least, thatâs what Lucy was going to keep telling herself in order to be able to sleep at night.Â
âJustâŚâ she worried on her bottom lip, feeling Tommyâs hand settle protectively on the back of her head. âPromise me that you wonât come in her.â She didnât need to specify as to why, feeling him tense a little against her of the reminder of Lizzie and her approaching due date.Â
âI promise.â
She cleared her throat awkwardly. âWe really should talk about what you want to do about Lizzie.â
âWhat do you mean?â
She hesitated, unsure as to how she could properly broach the subject to him, feeling a tear begin to cleave its way through her heart in response to what she was about to suggest. Even as she forced the words to come out.Â
âYou should marry her.â
Tommy jerked back, staring at her with a furrowed brow, frown pulling his lips downwards. âWhat?â
âYou canât be unmarried with an illegitimate child if you want to move into politics, Tommy.â Knowing him, winning the position of MP was just the beginning. He had big things ahead of him. âYou have to project the right kind of image. And if you want to be able to be involved in any sort of significant way with the babyâŚâ
âBut I love you,â he said softly. âIf Iâm going to marry anyoneââ
âIt needs to be the mother of your child,â Lucy finished for him stubbornly. He shot her a wounded look.Â
âI donât want to marry her.â
We donât always get what we want, she thought, but bit her tongue. If things had been different, maybe it could have been her that he would marry. But they werenât.Â
âAnd besides, what about you?â he pressed.
âI think that Iâm a small price to pay for the betterment of your childâs life and your career.â
The hurt in his eyes deepened. âWell I donât!â
âTommyâŚâ
âWeâre not talking about this,â his jaw twitched unhappily as he shook his head, turning towards his desk.
âSweetheart, pleaseâŚâ
âIâm not giving you up.â That stubborn sharpness entered his eyes, jaw setting, and she knew that she would get nowhere with him on the subject. At least not yet. Heâd have to see with his own eyes that she was right before he budged on it.Â
She sighed. The last thing that she wanted to do at the moment was fight with him. âAlright.â
They did not speak of the matter again. Though it lingered in the air between them like a ghost.Â
â â â
They laid side by side in the narrow bed, Tommy in the middle with Lucy on one side of him, Jessie on the other. He was thumbing at his brow with one hand, staring up at the ceiling while Jessie slipped out from under the sheets to go get dressed. Lucy watched her lazily, shifting to tuck herself more closely into Tommyâs side. His arm dropped to wrap around her shoulders, fingers tracing over her back. She shifted nearer to him, suddenly needing the closeness.
âYou okay?â Tommy whispered to her in the dark. When she didnât respond right away, his voice grew a little strained with worry. âLucy?â
ââM okay,â she said, nestling her head more firmly on his chest, eyes still watching Jessie carefully. They could not talk while she was in the room with them. At least not really.Â
She ached pleasantly between her legs from having him buried inside her but only a few moments ago. And while the pleasure from the orgasm heâd given her was still rushing through her veins, she was coming down from it rapidly, crashing back to earth in an unpleasant plunge.Â
It would appear that Lizzieâs pregnancy had more or less killed a lot of the enjoyment that threesomes once held for her. Sheâd felt an unfamiliar surge of anxiety as theyâd taken Jessie to bed, the kind that sex normally helped to dull. But this time the tumultuous, overwhelming feelings only seemed to grow as she watched Tommy fuck their new lover. Even though heâd kept his promise and not emptied himself inside of Jessie, the threat of yet another unintended accident from their liaison had set her so on edge that she found it almost impossible to fully lose herself even in Tommyâs familiar kisses and touches.
She was pretty sure that he was able to sense her nervousness, but whether he was able to guess the actual reason, or thought that she was just anxious because this was the first threesome theyâd had since what had happened with Luca, she wasnât sure. Either way, despite Jessie being the primary focus of the evening, he was being notably attentive towards her, eyes constantly darting over to check on her throughout, warm mouth seeking out her skin in attempts to pull her out of her own head.Â
He was looking at her that same way now, a slight crease forming between his brows. Lucy offered him a weak smile that only caused the look of concern to deepen, his other arm joining the first in wrapping around her so that he was hugging her tightly. Lucy squeezed him back, closing her eyes and burying her face in his chest. As if by doing so she could somehow hide away from the entire world.Â
â â â
Tommy left his meeting with Arthur Bigge in high spirits. It had taken some convincing, but all his conditions had been met. Everything was going according to plan.Â
Well, not everything. Lucy was still worrying him. She was doing considerably better than she had been during their holiday, but she still wasnât wholly herself.Â
She used to smile and laugh so easily. Even at the absolute worst of his jokes, or with the smallest little bit of teasing, and he could have her giggling, trying to shield it behind one of her hands even as her mossy green eyes lit up, entire face crinkling with mirth.
But nowadays, a melancholic aura had draped over her, seeming to cling to her skin, casting a film of sorrow over her eyes. Of course Tommy did not expect her to go back to the way that things were before Luca. But it killed him to see her so despondent and broken.Â
He missed hearing her laugh.Â
What he would give to make it all better for her. To pull the sadness out of her eyes. Take it into himself, if he had to. Just so long as she didnât have to carry it anymore.Â
She was still having nightmares and the occasional panic attack, as was to be expected. He had been worried originally that all the work that came along with preparing for the election would cause her too much stress. Especially with how fragile she still was. But if anything the work seemed to help, so he let her be.Â
But her comments about how he should marry Lizzie had struck a nerve in him, planting a seed of dread in his chest. He had always assumed if he were to ever marry again after Grace, it would be to Lucy. No one else. Especially not Lizzie.             Â
He had meant what heâd said. He wasnât letting her go. Heâd rather burn his reputation and even the entire bloody company to the ground before he even considered something like that. But his Lucy seemed incapable of understanding that, and he was beginning to grow more and more worried that no matter how much he tried to reassure her, she was doubting her place at his side.
When he first brought up the idea of running for MP, she had asked him what was to become of her position as his assistant after he took office. The question had taken him aback. It had seemed so obvious to him that she would come with him. Heâd hardly given it any real thought. Wherever he went, so did she. That was how things had always been, and he had no intention of changing them. Her worries seemed only somewhat abated when he smiled and coyly told her that MPs still needed assistants. It wasnât long before she was fretting over the possibility of rumors spreading regarding their relationship and tarnishing his reputation.Â
As if his reputation was not already drenched in blood and mud.Â
Heâd just grinned and kissed her temple, trying to appear relaxed and unbothered by any of it. Hoping that if he did, it would help to soothe her.Â
âMost politicians are sleeping with their secretaries, love. We wonât exactly be unique in that regard,â heâd told her. It seemed to have calmed her concerns enough. At least for the moment.Â
Adjusting the grip on his briefcase, he pushed out of the door and stepped into the crisp fresh air. Glancing around, he frowned when he didnât spot Lucy on the bench where heâd left her before going in for the meeting. Bigge had wanted to meet with just him alone, and while Tommy had been inclined to kick up a fuss about it until he let Lucy accompany him, sheâd insisted that he shouldnât risk irritating Bigge just so she could be in the room while they struck their deal.Â
He hadnât been particularly happy about it, but ultimately he had to admit that she had a point.Â
Looking around, a beat of panic tightened in his throat at no sight of her distinctive crimson hair. His heart started to pound hard in his chest. No. No, no, no, noâŚheâd just left her there for a second, sheâd been armed, there were dozens of people around, surely she couldnât have been just snapped up right off the streetâŚ
His head swiveled around, scanning the people passing by him. Maybe heâd just missed her. She was so short, it wouldnât be out of the realm of possibility that heâd just lost her in the crowd of people.
He was just beginning to properly panic when he heard his voice at his elbow.Â
âHow did it go?â
He whirled, eyes wide, chest still heaving with the startings of his panic attack, to find her standing there none the worse for wear, black coat pulled in tight around her.
Relief hit him like a blast to the face, and it took all his self control not to seize her in his arms and squeeze her tight to him. Instead he just let out a deep breath, shoulders relaxing. His eyes closed as he steadied himself, taking the time to remind himself that she was there and she was fine.
He opened his eyes again to find her still looking up at him, head cocked curiously. âWhere were you?â he demanded, tone perhaps a bit sharper than heâd intended.Â
âI got bored, so I went for a walk.â
âOh.â
âSorry.â
âNo, itâs justâŚyou werenât here and IâŚâ he huffed. âItâs alright. Câmon,â he indicated with his head towards the car that heâd parked on the edge of the curb. He held open the door for her, then slipped in after sheâd gotten settled in the passenger seat. Setting his briefcase down and closing the door behind him, he turned to look at her. There was an odd bulge in the front of her coat. His eyes narrowed. The bulge twitched. âWhatâs that?â
Lucy clutched her coat tighter to her body, blinking up at him innocently. âWhatâs what?â
âWhatâs wrong with your coat?â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
Her coat meowed. Tommy raised an eyebrow. Lucy pouted, letting the garment fall open to reveal a tiny little black and orange tortoiseshell kitten hidden underneath, blinking up at him with scrutinizing green eyes.Â
âWhat the bloody hell is that?â
Lucy stroked the little animalâs head. âItâs a kitten, Tommy. Surely youâve heard of them before.â
He rolled his eyes. âI know what a kitten is, Lucy. Whatâs it doing tucked in your coat?â
âI heard her crying in the alley behind the bench I was sitting at. And when I went to look, she was soaking wet and shivering all alone in this little box. I couldnât just leave her there.â
âThe fuck are we going to do with a stray kitten, Luce?â
She shrugged. âWe can keep her at the house. She could help with the mice problem.â
âWe donât have a mice problem.â
âAnd now that we have a cat, we never will.â
He eyed the kitten warily, still feeling like she was sharply analyzing him. Her little tail flicked back and forth, paws kneading at Lucyâs thighs. When Lucy scratched at the top of her head, she angled her face up, and batted at her playfully with one soft paw. Lucy giggled.Â
Tommy looked up sharply at the sound, biting the inside of his cheek to try to maintain his serious facade even as he felt himself soften at the sight of her smiling down at the cat.Â
âAnd you immediately assumed that Iâd be alright with this?â he asked, the amusement obvious in his voice.
âYou donât have much of a choice.â Lucy flashed him a grin before her attention returned to the kitten, whoâd curled up into a ball on her lap. Tommy raised an eyebrow, fond smile threatening to break containment as it tugged on the edges of his lips.Â
âNo?â
Lucy looked up at him, a challenge entering her eyes. âYou knocked someone else up.â
He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. âYou know whatâthatâs fair.â
She snickered, leaning forward to peck his cheek to let him know that there was no real bite to her words. Tugging off one of his gloves, he held his hand out to the cat. She sniffed at his knuckles, whiskers twitching with consideration, and then rubbed her cheek against his hand.Â
âShe likes you.â
âMm.â He gave her a few scratches under the chin, begrudgingly admitting to himself that the kitten was pretty fucking cute. And Lucy was right; the least he could do was let her keep the cat. âWeâll have to get her checked out by the vet before we take her home.âÂ
âOf course. Who knows what she mightâve gotten into living on the streets. Poor baby.â
Tommy let his hand stroke over the kittenâs back. She was so little, he could probably have fit her in one palm when she was all curled up. He felt a slight buzz under his hand as she started purring. He could feel Lucy watching them both fondly.Â
âSo it went well?â
âHm?â
âThe meeting with Bigge. Did it go alright?â
He smiled at her softly. âYes; it went alright.âÂ
Her face lit up, leaning into him. âGood.â
He turned his face to catch her lips with his, kissing her gently in celebration.
Between them, the kitten meowed.Â
â â â
âDonât you dare.â
Lucy grinned to herself as she approached Tommyâs office, hearing his voice even before she pushed open the heavy wooden door. She was greeted with the sight of the kitten perched on his desk, her little paw batting his box of matches closer and closer to the edge, her head cocked with intrigue.Â
Her green eyes peered over at him, holding his gaze, and promptly batted the box onto the floor. Tommy sighed, reaching across to scoop the little monster up and plop her down onto his lap. âYouâre gonna be a little troublemaker, arenât you?â But he was smiling to himself, a dimple appearing in his cheek when the kitten meowed in agreement.Â
Lucy smiled as she stepped fully into the office, walking over to set down a fresh stack of papers onto his desk. âNeed you to sign these.â She collapsed back into a chair across from him as he plucked up a pen.Â
Her hand raised to rest against the side of her face as she watched him. With every passing day, the election drew nearer, and with it, her anxiety grew.Â
Sheâd been keeping an ear to the ground, regarding anything that might hinder him winning. But so far, with all the careful bribing and other methods of rigging that theyâd implemented holding strong, it seemed like it would be an easy path to victory.
But there were some rumblings regarding Lizzie and the pregnancy that had started to spread. Lucy was pretty sure that they could keep them suppressed at least until the election was over. But not indefinitely.
It was going to become a problem.
She supposed it was almost funny, in a way. How being unmarried with an illegitimate child was likely to cause more harm to his reputation than being a notorious gangster.Â
They needed to address it. Figure out what they were going to do. And the longer that they took, the more damage the whole situation was likely to cause.Â
The kitten jumped into her lap, curling up with a soft purr. Lucy let her hand stroke mindlessly through her black and orange fur.  Â
âTommy?â
He looked up at her through the glinting lenses of his glasses, eyebrow raised, papers still clutched between his fingers.Â
âYes?â
Sheâd been reluctant to bring up the subject ever since he so thoroughly shut her down the last time over it. But if she was being truly honest with herself, that wasnât the only reason why sheâd so willingly let it go.
She didnât want him to marry Lizzie. And she sure as hell did not want to let him go.Â
Weâve still got some time. We donât need to do anything about it yet.
She swallowed hard, feeling like the worst, most selfish scum on the earth, even as she forced a wobbly smile on her face.Â
âNever mind.â
â â â
Time passed at seemingly the speed of light. And before she knew it, she was standing next to Tommy, the rest of the familyâexcept for Lizzie who had to wait outside with the babyâcrowded around him. They were all waiting with baited breath as the results of the election were announced over the loudspeaker. Lucy could feel her guts twisting nauseatingly inside her with nerves, heart leaping into her throat.Â
It had been an insane handful of months, and theyâd all seemingly passed within the blink of an eye. She didnât even know where all the time had gone.Â
Not long before the election took place, Lizzie gave birth to a baby girl, already bestowed the name Ruby by Polly before her arrival into the world. Â
And oh, did Tommy love that little girl.Â
It was heartwarming to see him fall so deeply in love with her, and every moment spent watching him with her made Lucyâs heart jump.Â
But God, did it also hurt.
She kept her melancholy and jealousy over the gorgeous little family he now had with Lizzie tucked down deep and away, where no one would ever find it. Ruby was a sweet baby, and she deserved nothing but good things in life. And Lucy did love her. Enough that she was more than prepared to walk away forever if she had to in order to give that girl a chance at growing up with a proper family around her.Â
She knew it made Tommy sad, to not be able to see her all the time. Ruby and Lizzie still lived at the home Tommy had bought for them, and while he visited when he could, he still did not get to see his daughter as often as he would if she lived at Arrow House.Â
They still had not had the conversation about what to do regarding that situation long-term. Sheâd tried to bring up the idea of him and Lizzie getting married again a handful of times, especially after Rubyâs birth, but Tommy still wouldnât hear of it.Â
A part of her was worried that, despite the promising polls, his personal life would hinder his victory. And it would all be her fault. Because she had been selfish and decided to try to hold onto him, even though the selfless thingâthe responsible thingâwould have been to let him go so he could build a proper personal life to go along with his new ambitions.Â
A huge breath of relief left her when his name was announced over the loudspeaker, a wide smile quickly replacing the look of apprehension that had been there a moment prior. She hugged Tommy back tightly in celebration when he engulfed her in his arms, briefly forgetting that she was trying to behave more distantly towards him in public. Like a mere colleague rather than a lover. To try to save his reputation before the rumor mill fully caught wind of their affair and ran with it.Â
âI now declare Thomas Shelby to be the new Labor Member of Parliament for the constituency of Birmingham South,â the announcer boomed for all to hear. Not just in the room that they were all crowded in to hear the results, but across the entire bloody country.Â
Cheers erupted, everyone in the family swarming around him, all smiles and uninhibited joy. They soon made their way to the doors, out to where Lizzie was waiting with Ruby clutched in her arms. Tommy beamed as he scooped Ruby up, lifting her high above his head, the baby squealing and giggling in delight. Lucy smiled at the display and the babyâs happy coos as her father adjusted her to rest on his hip and carry her with him down the rest of the stairs. But her smile quickly fell when she spotted Lizzie flashing a truly snide smirk at Jessie where she was standing in the crowd. A tendril of trepidation coiled itself around her, wondering if she would be on the receiving end of such a look sooner or later. Lizzie had been behaving decently towards her as of late, but she was not fool enough to expect that to last.
She followed Tommy and Lizzie down the stairs, lingering back to let them both go first, walking side by side with their baby while she trailed behind them; alone.Â
And despite their current string of good fortune, of endless possibilities and new doors opening up before them, she found herself struggling to muster up any real hope for the future.Â
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â romantic gestures.  bold what applies to your muse , italicize if there's potential / it depends.
holding hands ¡ buying flowers ¡ cooking ¡ cuddles ¡ writing a poem / song ¡ holding door open ¡ tying shoe laces ¡ sharing a milkshake with two straws ¡ offering their jacket when it's cold ¡ kissing in the rain ¡ publicly confessing love ¡ long walks at the beach ¡ doing the titanic pose on a boat ¡ taking cute pictures in a photo booth ¡ sharing a taxi / uber ¡ kissing the back of their hand ¡ slow dancing ¡ getting tickets of their favorite artist / sports team / other ¡ introducing them to your parents ¡ lighting candles ¡ flower petals on bed ¡ love letters ¡ star gazing ¡ brushing / doing their hair ¡ picnics ¡ teaching them to play an instrument / sport while gently guiding their hands ¡ compliments ¡ late night drives ¡ taking selfies together ¡ drawing them ¡ self-made gifts ¡ massages ¡ proposing with a family heirloom ring ¡ lending them your favorite book to read ¡ paying for dinner / coffee ¡ mixtapes / playlists ¡ surprise birthday parties ¡ feeding them ¡ handing them keys to your apartment ¡ making space in drawer for their clothes when they stay over ¡ sharing a blanket ¡ couple costumes ¡ tucking a hair strand behind their ear ¡ running after them at the airport / keeping them from leaving ¡ moving cities to be together ¡ blowing a kiss ¡ breakfast in bed ¡ defending them in a fight (verbally / physically) ¡ joint bubble baths ¡ dropping the L-bomb ("i love you") ¡ dedicating a song at the karaoke bar to them ¡ wearing their clothes ¡ yawning before putting an arm around them while watching a movie ¡ granting them the last bite (from meal)
tagged by: stolen from @infog <3 I legally HAD to tagging: @tenebriism @braveryhearted @autonomousxselves @fantomevoleur @musesofthesun @pluviacuratio @tendercoded / @manebloom / @lncanting @cozyfarms @deiscension @shadowedresolve @sakuaxe @lovlorne @leuvspell @adoranoia and you!!!! ( multi's, decide as you please! )
#toshiro kasukabe i love you so so so so so bad i WISH i had ships w u u mean the world to me#HE DRIVES ME INSANEEEEEEEEE im obsessed with him. toshiro struggles alot w expressing attraction in public bc of the conditions that he-#-was raised under where he had endless amounts of pressure put on him to conform to a standard and stay in the shadow of his father from a-#-very young age which means even postgame he struggles to get himself to do these things esp when they wouldnt be socially ok to do unless-#-you were dating the person u were doing it with but still caring abt his partner SOSOSOSOSSO much it's agonizing and how he'd fight with-#-himself to genuinely and directly express his feelings and not be controlled by fear postgame and how even pregame he'd still try to-#-figure something out to express it even in the minutest sense and how much his experiences form and embolden and disquiet him and GODDD#the way he'd consider a love letter to be albeit cheesy the most romantic thing he could do for a person bc it communicates his feelings-#-for them so directly and in a written form which he is so trained to think of in the danger it could bring bc its Physical ANYONE can-#-read it but still choosing to Write It Down like a kind of permanence and the way part of that is bc of him getting a secret admirer's-#-love letter when he was young and getting so so infatuated with the concept and finding that writing things down to be such a good way-#-to figure out his thoughts n feelings even if he always burned them after and how he'd want to do that for his partner/romantic interest-#-and how he finds to articulate his feeling through action and Giving rather than verbally when the articulate struggles so he instead-#-says it in the way he helps sb he loves learn an instrument or a skill n guides them and helps them and the way he'd guide the fingers#TOSHIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO KASUKABEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE u need a partner SO BAD i love u sm#MUSE / Toshiro Kasukabe#STUDY / Toshiro Kasukabe#GAMES / Toshiro Kasukabe#SHIPPING / Toshiro Kasukabe#â â on such longing i couldnât spit out : shipping.#â â shielding your eyes from the bright noon-light : studies.#p5 //#p5t //#food ment //#â â the world grows green again when you smile : games.
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U mean U and the others (unholy trinity of Tsaritsa simps) did drag me down a wormhole of oc-ing an existing character with lore and yet still making it adapt to your fic.
in my defense her lore is extremely vague descriptions by other people (who may be biased. staring directly at childe. staring very hard at childe.) and like. the gem description im just working with what i got. also i don't trust hoyo to write my wife correctly so as far im concerned anything they write abt her isn't canon until i approve it /j
#asks#the-white-void#img block#my tsaritsa is a vague vision in my head i cannot properly articulate and no amount of words can properly explain how much i think abt her#the goddess of love who feels no love for her people just as they feel no love for her.#there is an inherit tragedy in her refusal of the aspect she originally represented because she knows she must#teyvat is simply a tragedy and she is playing her part.#there is simply smth so chefs kiss abt the imagery of a woman so gentle and full of love being so cold#she is gentle at her core but shes had to bury it so deep ppl have already forgotten what that was like. all they remember is the cold#its like. outwardly she looks elegent and gentle. a fitting vessel for a goddess of love#but her eyes are devoid of love. devoid of sympathy. devoid of anything but a cold glare just like the element she embodies.#i need that dead eyed look like childe. absolutely blank.#absolutely deadpan voice. monotone and lifeless just like her nation#I COULD TLAK SM ABT TSARITSA IMAGERY AND THE CONTRAST BETWEEN GODDESS OF LOVE VS CRYO ARCHON IT DRIVES ME NUTS#I'm so normal abt hrr i need 2 be put down ill shut up now#never give me the opportunity to speak abt her i wont stop talking#I'm hitting bones over the head w a rock ITS HER FAULT IF SHE DIDNT WRITE TSARITSA THAT ONE TIME ID BE NORMAL???? /j /lh#i could also talk abt childe + tsaritsa bc they make me feral but this is goingon to long i need 2 be put doen
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I get that they probably are trying to make the gigantic robot lizard as unscary as possible but who's idea was it to give the alligator fuzzy fleece skin
There isn't a closeup where it's still enough to be sure but that sure looks like puppet/mascot suit fleece to me.
Also since I'm here it looks cool without its skin
Imagineer for scale
#I'm finding out about princess and the frog ride stuff late#im not sure it's fleece but like. they made the crocodile guy fuzzy#it doesn't look like it's even stretching all that good its moving like it has a fabric skin#did the rubber they made ursula out of not age well or what#makes more sense to me to stamp scale texture into a rubber skin than to like. make it look like a giant stuffed animal.#plus it would like. bend and stretch in ways that fabric doesnt#like the way skin does#like the way the skin of the other characters they showed did#it's like. someone somewhere said 'make sure the animatronic looks exactly like the costume' so they had to commit to that#I'm impressed with literally every other part of this figure is why I'm so focused on the skin#would be nice if the eyebrow shapes on top of the eyes moved even a little bit but that's a nitpick all else considered#i will also say that i am impressed specifically by the hand poses they chose#i dont think this figure's fingers articulate at all but the pose they put it in makes it really difficult to tell as it moves and rotates#maybe they arent even final skins who knows#so much about this works so well its sort of weird to me how the skin stands out#i didn't mention the articulated stomach panel#i appreciate that they gave him dedicated gut motors to make squash and stretch happen#but it also makes me wonder why they didnt give that eyemask shape around his eyes any movement. the whole thing could squish up or down.#tons of expressive potential squandered
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hi my love iâm obsessed with all your works and this is my first request!
poly! marauders and cuteness aggression. like maybe reader coming home a bit tipsy from girls night and just seeing her boys and losing it. grabbing remusâ face and just kissing all over his cheeks, gnawing on jamesâ biceps and playing with siriusâ hair or tracing his tattoos.
Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!
cw: alcohol
poly!marauders x fem!reader ⥠589 words
You leave a trail of things down the hallway that you swear youâll pick up in the morning. Your bag, both shoes, your jacket. Thereâs no time to put any of it in its proper place, not when you know your boyfriends are all cozy and waiting for you in your bed. Everything else is secondary.Â
The moment you get your eyes on them, itâs already too much. Remus is reading while Sirius chats to a nearly-asleep James, and you donât know whether to scream or hug them or burst into tears. One feels more socially acceptable than the rest.Â
A grin spreads over Siriusâ face as you crawl clumsily up the bed, so you go to him first.Â
âHi, baby.â You smear a kiss over his lips, burrowing your hands in his lovely, silken hair. It smells like his conditioner, smokey and heady and just slightly sweet. You wish you could snort it up into your nose like a drug.Â
âHi, baby,â Sirius says back at you, amused. âDid you have a good night?âÂ
âNo,â you lament, though you think you might have enjoyed it at the time.Â
Impulsively, you move to Remus, clambering across James to get on your quietest boyfriendâs lap. Heâs already set down his book, so there are no barriers to your whims as you take his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks up and kissing them all over. You think you can hear the other boys laughing somewhere beyond your lovesick haze. Remusâ skin grows warmer with each ardent press of your lips.Â
âNone of you were there,â you go on. Itâs impossible to articulate the full extent of this injustice. âYou were here, being so lovely and perfect and lovely without me.âÂ
âThatâs lovely twice.â Remus seems to recover somewhat from your surprise attack. His hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, a touch just for touchâs sake. âHow much have you had, dove?âÂ
You make a petulant, whiny sound, burying your face in his neck. There will never be enough of them, your lovely boyfriends. Or maybe itâs that theyâre enough, but you just canât get enough. Regardless. Youâre doomed to remain just on the brink of satisfaction.Â
âEnough to know that I missed you a lot,â you say pitifully.Â
âAwe, babydoll.â Jamesâ laughter is at odds with his compassionate tone. âCome here, mâlove.âÂ
This sounds like a grand idea to you. You wish theyâd simply all squish together so you could lay your affections on them one by one, in rounds.Â
James puckers his lips as you approach, readying for a kiss, and so is taken entirely aback when you forgo his face entirely.Â
âOh, well,â he says as you suck a hickey on his bicep. âI feel properly objectified.âÂ
Youâre too pleased with yourself to be sorry. He flexes playfully, eliciting a string of giggles from you as you latch on tighter.Â
âDo you think sheâs been drugged?â you hear Remus ask.Â
âDunno.â Jamesâ tone is fond. His big hand lands on the back of your head.Â
âNo, I sort of get it,â says Sirius. The mattress dips slightly, and then you feel him plant a wet kiss on your shoulder. âYou just need to get it out of your system, yeah, sweetness?âÂ
You hum in affirmation. You wrap your arms around Jamesâ middle, squeezing tight.Â
âI love you so much,â you mumble into his skin. âIâm gonna kill you.âÂ
Your boyfriendâs frame rumbles with laughter. âOkay, lovie,â he says indulgently. âYou go right ahead.â
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders oneshot#poly!marauders one shot#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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Imagine ex-husband Gojo doing things for his new love interests that you begged him for while you were married.
After a joint meeting between the sister schools, you overheard Suguru asking him who he was texting during the meeting.
Satoru replied, "Just letting my date know I'll be a bit late tonight since we ran long here. Todo can yap, huh?"
"Seriously!" Their voices faded as they walked down the hall.
You stood just outside the meeting room watching the corner the disappeared around. If you had to pinpoint the number one reason your marriage failed - more than clan pressure, more than the strain of being young parents, more than back to back to back missions - it would be the fact that Satoru can't communicate for shit.
Part of it wasn't his fault. His brain just didn't work like that. An inconvenient side effect of limitless is that everything makes sense in your head, but it's hard for a person with the gift to explain their thoughts to others.
So the no-call, no-shows to dinners was technically a side effect of limitless, as was his inability to articulate his feelings like an adult or the fact that he would just do things without even telling you there was a problem in the first place.
"Quit doing that with your face, brat." Sukuna emerges from the meeting room. He's out of his Ryomen form at the moment, as he usually is during meetings so that he can actually fit in his chair. "How long are you gonna let what he does affect you?"
"It doesn't!" you insist.
Sukuna rolls his eyes. "If that helps you sleep at night."
Imagine reminding yourself that you can't be mad at him.
You're seeing other people now, too. Hell, you've been divorced for over a decade, it's insanity that you care at all.
It's just. You never doubted his love for you. Not for a second, not even now that your marriage failed and you largely raised your son on your own.
"Mom?"
Maybe your divorce was his motivation to be better. You're not sure. But if he's capable of change, capable of being attentive and communicative, why couldn't he change for you all those years ago?
"Mom."
Could it be that you were his childhood companion and he loved you, but he was never in love with you? Was his love for you less than your love for him?
You hardly notice your son calling out to you until he springs into action. "Mom!" Sen nudges you away from the stove to turn of the burner. When did smoke fill the kitchen? The roux you were trying to make was burnt to a crisp, stuck to the pan and emanating an unpleasant smell.
Sen gently pries your hands off the handle and drops the ruined pan in the sink to soak. Then he makes sure the burner's off before turning to you with a conflicted expression.
He may have inherited a hybrid of both your and Satoru's personal brands of emotional stuntedness, but he could put two and two together between how distracted you've been and the rumors of Satoru dating again - What with it being huge news among jujutsu society (aka power hungry clans with eligible daughters.) Your son had his own complicated feelings regarding his father and as much as he'd prefer Satoru stay away from you, it hurt him to see you like this.
Though, watching you try to keep a stiff upper lip for his sake during the divorce is the reason he doesn't want his father anywhere near you.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You wipe your hands on a dish towel. "I wasn't paying attention. Hang tight while I make you something else."
He could kill Satoru right now. But you wouldn't like that, so he won't.
"Mama, I--" He shuts his mouth. You've been protecting him from the details of the divorce his whole life. What did he know about comforting you? But while he may not have been able to protect you then, he can sure as hell try now.
"Mama, why don't I take you out to dinner? My treat."
Imagine that Sen decides he needs to stop having ideas.
He brought you to a local okonomiyaki that you've been going to since he was little to the point where the owners knew you well and liked to give you little extras from the kitchen. Today's treat was a side of pickled radish.
It was your happy little hideaway. Away from jujutsu and clans and curses and your broken home.
Sen insisted on cooking the okonomiyaki for you, saying that, "My treats means I'll take care of everything!" The weak smile you gave him made his heart soar.
You giggle while he jokes around and tells you about school like how Hikari fell asleep for 45 minutes out of an hour long test and still got a better score than him. Hearing about your son and his happy school days always made you feel better.
Sen was ready to give himself a pat on the back for cheering you up when he hears the front bell jungle and a woman's laughter carries over.
"Fancy places are like that, though!" the woman laughs. "They give a bite of food per plate."
Then a familiar voice replies, "Yeah, but it was good, wasn't it? And now we get to fill up at a cute place like this."
Even though he's the one facing the door and not you, the look on your face tells Sen all he needs to know. What breaks his heart is that you've sunk lower into your seat to make yourself smaller.
Sen could kill his father right now.
Hooray, angst!
Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]
#gojo sentaro#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen imagines#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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can you pls write nerdy ellie? it can be sfw or nsfw
HOT! HOT!
?: Ellie is alot of things: Sheâs well articulated, Sheâs liked around campus, but for the life of her, she cannot get laid. Itâs gotten pretty embarrassing, maybe you can help? - NSFW - Excuse me for any spell checks!
!: My mutuals have really yummy fics about nerd!Ellie so please let me know if youâd like any recommendations. - Thank you for your anon, means sm to me baby
You stare at her with an incredulous expression, the sight alone being one of pure unbridled shock upon this new-found discovery.
âNever?â
âNever.â
She reaffirms after you, running a nervous hand through her auburn tresses to ease the silent tension in the air. Ellie Williams, all around âgood at fucking anything,â is a virgin. The thought alone was something that poked curiosity and incredulity. You knew she was quite kept to herself, often times busying with books and videogames, but this was something you didnât expect. I mean, she was with Dina at one point.
You donât want to make her make her more uncomfortable than the topic is, so you give her some form of comfort; âItâs quite normal, honestly, I donât even blame you in this society.â
That earns you a laugh and a slight snort from her, throwing her head slightly back. âYeah?â
You return a chuckle, shrugging, âYeah, but youâve atleast kissed before, right?
She immediately quiets down, olive-toned cheeks flushing with a light wash of embarrassment.
Holy fuck.
If you werenât shocked before, you were gawking now.
âD-donât look at me like that, man..â She groans, tossing her glasses onto the coffee table as she buries her face in a nearby decorative throw-pillow. âNo, noâ I donât mean in a bad way, just surprised.â
âSurprised?â She murmurs softly, staring at the dim dorm lightbulb that hangs above them, âThatâs a first. Dina usually calls me forcibly celibate.â
You want to curse yourself at the noise you let out, eyes watering as you slap your mouth with a cupped palm. Ellie side-eyes you with a scoff as she gets up from her seat, âYeah, Yeah, Alrightââ
âIâll be serious! I promise.â You call out, reaching for her wrist to sit her back down, to which she does.
âHave you ever, like, considered it, though?â
Her interest piques at this turn, reaching for her glasses back, âWhat? Having sex?â
Well, duh.
Ellie hums, thinking about it for a second, âI wouldnât be opposed to it..â She trails off, wiping her lenses with the corner of her graphic-tee, before putting them on. âOnly to someone I really like.â
âAw, thatâs actually really sweet, I actually had a friend once whoâ
âWhich is why I want you to fuck me.â She bluntly puts, staring at you four-eyed.
. . .
âCome again?â You cock your head out, âYou want me to..?â
She inches forward, nodding like a bobblehead, âYeah! It makes sense. Youâre my friend, and I like you, so itâll work.â You sigh, shaking your head, âElls, it doesnât work like that. What if you regret it?â
âSo youâd agree to it if I donât regret it?â She smiles, tone a bit ecstatic as she sees you entertain the idea.
She really was putting you on the spot, huh?
You stare at her for a bit, studying her face. She seemed enthusiastic about getting the opportunity to even lay hands on your soft skin. Saying you were pretty was an understatement, you were the epitome of wet-dreams; She was head over heels pretty much in-love with you, and the idea of even losing such a prize position like her virginity to you symbolized things she could only dream about.
You roll your eyes as you both kneel on her mattress, her fiddling with your bra like itâs the most complicated thing. âThis shit is a death machine, holy smokes.â
Holy smokes?
When she finally succeeds, sheâs jittery and giggling to herself, scooting back into the pillows to get a good look at your beautiful breasts. âTheyâre so fucking hot, ohmygod..â Next thing you know, sheâs cupping them softly, kneading the fleshy dough in circular motions, gaze fixed on the way your back arches ever so slightly, eyes fluttering. So she is doing something, right?
She leans her head down, giving your perked areolas experimental licks, opting to suckle them when you give her the green. Your hand finds itself buried in her hair, massaging her tender scalp while she works her tongue on your sensitive buds, closing her own eyes at the pure idea she might be making you feel good.
After a while, you pull her off your tits, pushing her down onto the sheets as she looks at you confused. Poor baby doesnât understand sex is transactional because sheâs too busy giving you her all. You smile softly, leaning over her, legs on each side of her torso as you give her a kiss on the lips, the brief âsmoochâ sound music to her ears as she opens her heavy lidded eyes back again; theyâre filled with neediness, a surge of wanting to be touched more.
By the time youâve readied her for the real thing, littering her body in soft bruising marks, her voice slightly higher pitched with each âuhn!â she lets out, brows scrunched together and lips slightly ajar, coated in a sheen of saliva from how you kiss her with reassurance youâll take care of herâ sheâs telling you with pants, no, beggingâ âP-please, baby? âCanât take it anymore..â
She means her bottoms, fabric cruely soaked and covered in her own arousal from all the attention youâve been giving her; Ellie feels lightheaded, tears brimming her crinkled eyes when you thumb her through her boxers. However, words cannot explain the feeling that rushes through her when you lean down and lick a fat strip through the cloth, eyes locked on hers. She hiccups a gasp, shuddering as the cold air hits her mound when you pull the elastic band from the side.
âI wanted to eat it through it, but I think youâre a bit impatient for that, so iâll cut to what you want.â You whisper, warm breath fanning over her sensitive pussy. By the time you dig in, sheâs whining at volumes you literally need to reach up her torso and cover her mouth.
âUhn! Uhnâ! F-fuckâ?â
What sorcery did you have on her? Genuinely? She canât believe sheâs been withholding herself from such pleasure, your tongue trudging through her gummy folds making her want to die and come back again. She can barely even think straight, letting out muffled wails against your hand, saliva seeping through and rolling down your wrist in dribbles. Youâd be disgusted, but the sight alone boosts your ego, you had her whipped.
Was it mentioned sheâs already orgasmed before you even went near her cunt? Thatâs right, she already came once while you two were kissing. You definitely knew sheâd atleast finish early, but damn were you surprised when she shook against you, humming against your lips rhythmatically.
âAm I making you feel good, baby? Can you talk fâme?â
She could barely hear you, and here you were, asking damn questions. Nonetheless, she gives you a small huff in response; alluding that she was somewhat conscious.
Once you deliver her to cum, sheâs shivering against the sheets, balling her fists up as you rip both a cry, and orgasm out of her. âA-Ahnnnn..?!.â
Rest of the night, you two went at it like animals; Ellie insisting you teach her everything there was to know about sex in a singular sittingâ ..fucking? To say you both tired eachother out would be an underemphasis.
You ruined her.
When you both seemingly knock out, well, atleast you, she slowly sits up, biting her bottom lip in anticipation as she gazes around your naked body, you were gonna sleep over..
She seems more excited at the prospect youâll stay the night than the fact you two have been literally keeping the entire female dormitory quarters upâ likely going to be hit with a personal visit by the RA.
Who cares, not Ellie for sure. Sheâll happily flaunt the fact sheâs (finally) got some, just to show off.
God, was she a geek.
#Ellie Williams#ellie williams x reader#Ellie williams smut#ellie william hcs#The last of us 2#san8ny#tlou 2
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what about sfw or nsfw if you wanna take it that way of the jjk boys with clingy reader. they secretly love how much she loves/adores them.
BEING CLINGY WITH THEM?
featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. geto suguru. nanami kento.
n. hi lovely, thank you for requesting! i decided to go with sfw and kept it simple n easy to read. enjoy :D
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you've noticed that he's not accustomed to physical touches. every time you go in for a hug, he tenses up, his body stiffening momentarily before he relaxes into the embrace. but you can feel the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his breath catches for a split second before he surrenders to the warmth of your touch.
you know in your heart that megumi likes it even though he doesn't express it. even though his restrained demeanor often gives the impression that he is far away, the way he leans in closer to you during your embraces says plenty. and you'll know that your affection is felt when you see him glance at you and blush softly after one of your embraces.
you feel the familiar tension in his body as you pull megumi into a gentle hug. "hey, 'gumi," you say softly, "i'm here for you." he stiffens for a moment before relaxing slightly into your embrace. "i know," he replies quietly. you can feel the steady beat of his heart on yours as you hold him close, and you know that one hug at a time, your love is slowly but surely dissolving the barriers he's put up around himself.
ITADORI YUUJI. your boyfriend thrives on physical closeness, and you love how he eagerly wraps his arms around you at every opportunity. whether you're cuddled up on the couch watching movies or simply walking down the street, itadori's hand is always intertwined with yours. his touch is comforting and reassuring, and you find yourself craving it constantly.
what's even better is that itadori adores your clinginess just as much as you love his. he lights up whenever you initiate physical contact, whether it's stealing kisses or wrapping your arms around him from behind. both of you articulate the language of love in your relationship with ease; physical affection is the language. every embrace, every caress, every moment spent curled up in each other's arms deepens your relationship.
as you cuddle up to itadori on the couch, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. "i love it when you're this close to me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your crown. you smile up at him, feeling content in his embrace. "i just can't help it. being close to you feels so right," you confess. itadori chuckles softly, his steady breath warm against your body. "well, i'm not complaining. i could stay like this forever."
GETO SUGURU. there's an unspoken understanding that he's open to anything, especially your clinginess. he adores it so much that it's become a cherished part of your dynamic. you love how he welcomes your affection with open arms, never hesitating to pull you close or return your tight embraces. there's a comfort in his touch that you can't quite explain, a sense of belonging that washes over you whenever you're in his arms.
and geto? he revels in your clinginess, finding joy in every moment spent wrapped up with you. he loves the way you fit perfectly against him, as if you were made to be intertwined with each other.
he's busy making supper when you put your arms around him from behind, and he falls back into your embrace with a satisfied smile on his lips. "you know, i could get used to this," he says in a warm, gentle voice. savoring the closeness of the moment, you plant a kiss on the nape of his neck. you whisper, "me too," your heart fluttering with romance.
NANAMI KENTO. his reserved nature is evident in everything he does. he's composed, controlled, and rarely shows his emotions openly. however, there's one thing that always catches him off guardâyour touch. each time you give him a hug or plant a peck on his cheek, nanami's stoic facade crumbles just a little. his breath catches, and for a fleeting moment, you see a hint of predisposition in his eyes.
it's in those moments that you feel closest to him, when his defenses are down, and he lets you in just a little bit more. and despite his reserved nature, nanami never fails to reciprocate your affection, albeit in his own subtle way.
you extend your hand to embrace nanami, and he tenses up a little at being touched by you. "i wasn't expecting that," he admits, with a trace of shock in his voice. you squeeze him tenderly and say, "i just wanted to show you how much i care." with a softening face, nanami eases into your embrace and wraps his arms around you in response, "thank you, i appreciate it."
@uzurakis
#.writing#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x reader#megumi fluff#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#jjk nanami#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto x y/n#geto x you#geto fluff#geto x reader#geto suguru#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji#itadori fluff#itadori x you#yuuji fluff#yuuji x you#yuuji x reader
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Best Laid Plans
Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!Reader
Summary: you were just supposed to be a means to an end â a way for Carlos to get back at your father for dropping him â but the best laid plans often go awry and you quickly become so much more than that
Warnings: 18+ content and manipulation
Note: did I spend the whole day writing this to celebrate Carlosâ win? Maybe âŚ
So much love to @struggling-with-drivers for always giving me the best ideas
The warm Portuguese sun beats down on Carlos as he strolls through the luxurious resort grounds, trying and failing to shake the anger simmering inside him.
How could Ferrari do this to him? After all he has given to the team over the past few seasons? To be so unceremoniously dumped for Lewis fucking Hamilton is a slap in the face he can barely comprehend.
He kicks at the pebbled path, hands jammed in his pockets, catching the eye of a young woman lounging by the pool up ahead. She gives him a warm smile that does strange things to his insides for a moment before he recognizes her â Y/N Vasseur.
The reality of who she is hits Carlos like a truck. The daughter of the team principal who betrayed him.
An idea begins to form in Carlosâ mind, a cruel little seed taking root. If Ferrari wants to play hardball, he can play harder. And what better way to get back at Fred than through his precious daughter?
Putting on his most charming grin, Carlos changes course to approach you. âY/N, fancy running into you here,â he lies easily. âI didnât realize you were vacationing at this resort too.â
You sit up, shielding your eyes against the sunâs glare. âCarlos! What a pleasant surprise.â Your smile is bright and genuine, setting off warning bells in the back of Carlosâ mind. He quickly silences them â this is just collateral damage.
âI was just getting ready for a dip. Care to join me?â You gesture towards the welcoming blue waters.
Carlos pretends to consider it for a moment. âYou know what, I would love to.â
Stripping off his shirt, he canât help but sneak glances at your swimsuit-clad figure as you slide into the pool, telling himself itâs just for show. You really are stunning though, he has to admit. This might not be so difficult after all.
âSo whatâs a beautiful young woman like yourself doing all alone at a place like this?â Carlos asks once heâs waded in beside you.
You let out a tinkling laugh, sweeping wet hair away from your face. âTaking a much needed break from real life, I suppose. My job can be ⌠demanding at times.â
That piques Carlosâ interest â to be quite honest, he had just assumed you did nothing all day. âOh? Do tell, Iâm fascinated.â
With a bashful look, you launch into an explanation of your high-powered career that genuinely impresses Carlos despite himself. Youâre whip-smart, articulate, and passionate about your work in a way he can relate to.
âWow,â he finds himself saying once youâve finished. âI donât know why, but I wasnât expecting that from you. Not that Iâm judging a book by its cover or anything!â He adds quickly at your arched eyebrow.
You let out another of those bright laughs. âDonât worry, I get that a lot. People see a privileged girl and make all sorts of assumptions.â
Thereâs a hint of bitterness underlying the lightness of your tone that Carlos picks up on all too well. He knows what itâs like to be looked down on and underestimated.
âFor what itâs worth, I think what you do is really impressive,â he finds himself saying honestly. âAnd anyone who thinks less of you for it is a fool.â
The words seem to catch you off guard for a moment before your expression melts into a warm smile. âWhy Carlos Sainz, I do believe youâre flirting with me.â
He grins back unrepentantly. âIs it working?â
You pretend to consider it for a moment before laughing again. âMaybe a little.â
The flirtatious back-and-forth continues as you both float lazily in the pool, Carlos quickly getting caught up in the effortless fun of it. You match him quip for quip, parry for parry, in a way heâs not used to from women. Itâs exhilarating and unexpected.
In fact, heâs so caught up in your company that he nearly forgets his original intention entirely. Until a stray thought brings the memory crashing back down ⌠youâre Fred Vasseurâs daughter.
The realization is like a bucket of cold water being upended over Carlosâ head. What is he doing? This woman hasnât done anything to wrong him. Going after you just to get petty revenge on your father is ugly and uncalled for. He should just be the bigger man, swallow the insult Ferrari dealt him, and move on.
But then he thinks about the disrespect, the callousness of dumping him like dead weight after all he bled for the team. Perhaps a little payback is in order after all.
With a wicked grin, Carlos begins swimming slowly towards you, an unmistakable glint in his eye. You seem to pick up on it, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. âWhatâs that look for?â
âJust thinking,â he murmurs once heâs close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. âAbout how I could make this vacation even more ⌠memorable.â
His heavy-lidded gaze drops to your lips for just a moment, but you catch it. You bite your lower lip unconsciously as heat blazes between you. âIs that so?â
âMhmm,â Carlos all but purrs, reaching out to gently cup your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You shiver despite the warmth of the day, eyelids fluttering. âIf youâll allow me?â
For a long stretch, you seem to be rendered speechless, pupils blown wide as you study his face intently. Then, so softly, âYes.â
Thatâs all the permission Carlos needs before heâs crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
The moment your lips meet his, itâs like a jolt of electricity courses through Carlos. He kisses you deeply, urgently, all thoughts of revenge or ill-intent evaporating from his mind. This is pure want, unbridled desire singing through his veins.
You return the kiss with equal fervor, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. Your mouth is warm, soft, pillowy â everything Carlos didnât know he was craving until this very moment. He skims his hands over the slick curves of your body beneath the poolâs surface, marveling at the gasps and sighs he pulls from you with each exploratory touch.
When you finally break apart, youâre both panting heavily, faces flushed. Carlos drinks in the sight of you â hair tousled, lips swollen, and eyes dark with wanting. Heâs never seen anything more beautiful.
âCarlos ...â You breathe his name like a prayer and something primal uncurls in his lower belly.
Instead of responding, he simply crushes his mouth to yours once more, walking you backward until your back gently hits the poolâs tiled edge. You let out a muffled moan as he settles between your parted thighs, the heated line of his body flush against yours.
One of his hands slides up over the soft skin of your ribs to cup your breast as you arch shamelessly into his touch. He drags his lips in hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your jaw and down the graceful column of your neck, relishing the way you keen beneath his attention.
âYou feel so good, cariĂąo,â he rumbles against the feverish skin just below your ear, punctuating the words with a deliberately slow roll of his hips that has you releasing a broken whimper. âSo fucking perfect ...â
In this moment, with you writhing and mewling in his arms, Carlos has never been more grateful for his commitment to physical fitness. He knows he can keep this up all day if need be, ravishing you over and over until youâre a limp, sated puddle.
He runs his tongue in a scorching path up the side of your neck before returning to that sinful mouth, swallowing your desperate little moans hungrily. You cling to him as if heâs the only thing keeping you tethered, nails raking deliciously over his back and shoulders in a way that will surely leave marks. Carlos loves it, loves the proof of your passion painted on his skin in thin red lines.
Trailing his lips across the hinge of your jaw, he murmurs âShould we take this somewhere more private, princesa?â
You let out a shuddering breath, hips canting up instinctively to meet each roll of his. âGod, yes ... please ...â
The sound of your needy whine sends a molten thrill straight to Carlosâ cock. Heâs fully hard and aching for you, straining against his swim trunks with every second that passes. If possible, he wants you even more.
With a grunt of effort, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hikes your legs up around his waist in one swift motion. You let out a startled squeak that quickly dissolves into a moan as he shifts against you just right, creating delicious friction. Your arms wind around his neck as you bury your face in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.
âYou feel that, cariĂąo?â Carlos rumbles darkly. âI canât wait to be inside you. Stretching you so perfectly full of me. Will you be a good girl and take it? Every. Last. Inch?â
He emphasizes each of the final three words with a firm grind of his hips, rutting his rigid length against your clothed heat. Your back bows in response, mouth dropping open on a silent wail of pleasure. Carlos can feel your sticky wetness soaking through the thin material of your swimsuit bottoms and groans harshly.
âP-please ...â You keen, worrying his earlobe between your teeth. âI need you, Carlos. I need it so bad ...â
And just like that, the trance is broken. Carlos blinks, suddenly acutely aware that youâre grinding shamelessly against each other in the very public pool area of this high-end resort. A few pointed looks from other guests are enough to have a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.
Clearing his throat, he reluctantly pulls himself back and sets you on your feet. You let out a disappointed whimper that goes straight to his groin.
âP-perhaps we got a bit carried away, princesa,â Carlos huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his damp curls. âWhy donât we go somewhere a bit more ⌠private to continue this?â
You bite your plump lower lip and Carlos has to resist the urge to lean forward and free it with his teeth. Nodding eagerly, you cast a look around before tugging his hand and heading for the exit, leaving a trail of water droplets in your wake.
Carlos follows eagerly, openly ogling the way your soaked swimsuit hugs every tantalizing curve. Heâs never been so grateful for his decision to book one of the private beachfront villas at this resort â just a stoneâs throw from where youâre leading him, heâll finally be able to have you all to himself.
The thought has him semi-frantically fumbling for the keycard as you press urgent, open-mouthed kisses to any patch of bare skin you can find â his shoulder, his neck, the line of his jaw. By the time he gets the door open youâre both panting like youâve run a marathon, desire thrumming white-hot through your veins.
The second youâre inside, Carlos has you pressed back against the door, forearms braced on either side of your head as he towers over you. For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your features and heâs abruptly reminded of who you are.
âAre you sure about this?â He murmurs lowly, searching your eyes. âBecause if we do this, I can promise you thereâs no going back for me, cariĂąo.â
You visibly swallow hard but then give a small, determined nod. âI want this, Carlos. I want you.â
Thatâs all the confirmation he needs before heâs capturing your lips in another searing, desperate kiss that has you melting against him. He walks you backward, never breaking contact until the backs of your legs hit the edge of the plush bed. With a growl, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hitches your legs around his hips once more.
You let out a breathless giggle as he tumbles you both down onto the soft cotton sheets, immediately rolling until heâs blanketed by the gorgeous expanse of your body. God, youâre even more stunning like this â hair fanned out in a tousled riot, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, eyes glazed with naked wanting.
Carlos takes a moment just to appreciate the view, raking his eyes over every inch he can see. A tremor goes through you beneath his weighty gaze and he smirks, leaning down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of your slender throat.
âYou have no idea how long Iâve wanted this, princesa,â he rumbles against your overheated skin. âHow many times Iâve thought about having you just like this, spread out beneath me and begging for it ...â
The truth is, he hasnât thought about it at all until this very day. But something about the way your breath hitches and your hips cant up instinctively at his words makes Carlos want to keep going.
âIâve watched you, you know,â he lies smoothly, relishing the full-body shiver that wracks your frame. He nips along the graceful line of your collarbone and you whine softly in the back of your throat. âCouldnât tear my eyes away whenever you were around. Imagining what delicious little sounds you might make with my cock buried inside you ...â
You moan then, loud and unabashed as you tug needily at his hair to bring his mouth back up to yours. Carlos chuckles darkly into the kiss, reveling in how utterly desperate heâs managed to make you for him so quickly.
âIs this what you want, princesa? You want me to fuck you?â He keeps his tone a low, filthy rasp against the plush of your lips. âHard and deep and ruthless until you canât remember anything but my name on your tongue?â
âYes!â The word rushes out in an urgent whine and Carlos lets out a feral growl, slamming his hips firmly against yours in one rough grind that has your mouth dropping open on a broken cry of ecstasy.
Moving with purposeful efficiency, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms and tugs them down over the swell of your hips and off completely. He shoves his own trunks down just far enough to free his throbbing length, giving it a few firm strokes to spread the pearling bead of precome over the swollen head.
With a low, heated look, Carlos hitches your legs over his shoulders and lines the blunt head of his cock up with your entrance. Just from this angle, he can see how slick and swollen you already are for him, glistening with arousal.
âLast chance, cariĂąo,â he rumbles, rubbing himself in one deliciously torturous swipe through your folds and back again. You moan loudly, back bowing off the bed. âAfter this, I wonât be able to stop until youâre utterly ruined for anyone elseâs touch ...â
The sound you make is practically inhuman, hand shooting out to grasp at his hip almost painfully hard. âCarlos ⌠Carlos, please!â
Never one to deny such a desperate plea, Carlos braces one hand beside your head and slowly, inexorably begins to sink into your welcoming heat.
The tight, slick heat of your core enveloping Carlos inch by agonizing inch is utterly sublime. He has to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut to keep from embarrassing himself right then and there. Youâre impossibly tight, so perfectly molded to his shape â heâs never felt anything quite like it.
Beneath him, you keen softly as he stretches and fills you in one steady glide. Your fingernails bite crescent moons into the firm planes of his back as if youâll fall apart if not anchored to him. Carlos rumbles his approval low in his chest at the sweet sting.
Once heâs fully sheathed, hips flush with yours, he pauses to simply bask in the feeling for a long moment. You feel so indescribably good wrapped around his throbbing length â hot and snug and fluttering subtly like your body canât decide whether to grip him tighter or ease his way.
âFuck, cariĂąo ...â The words tear from Carlosâ throat in a ragged groan. âYou feel incredible. So perfect for me.â
You whimper wordlessly in response, flexing and releasing your inner muscles in a way that has him seeing stars behind his eyelids. He captures your mouth in a filthy, demanding kiss to swallow your desperate little noises. Itâs all he can do not to start pounding away with reckless abandon.
Pulling back slowly until just the thick head of his cock remains inside your clutching heat, Carlos locks eyes with you. Your pupils are blown wide, lips parted enticingly with each panting breath, the picture of wanton desire. Heâs never seen anything so erotic in his life.
You must read the promise in his expression because suddenly youâre nodding frantically and chasing his retreating hips with a needy whine.
âPlease, Carlos!â You keen desperately, nails scoring lines of fiery pleasure-pain down the rigid plane of his back. âI need it, I need you to-â
He doesnât let you finish, snapping his hips forward in one hard thrust that buries him to the hilt. The broken cry that tears from your perfect lips goes straight to his dick.
Carlos repeats the harsh, punishing rhythm over and over, relishing the snug drag of your velvet walls against his aching cock. He soon has you a mewling, mindless mess beneath him, whining his name like a holy mantra with each powerful stroke.
âThatâs it, princesa,â he rasps against the flushed curve of your neck, lips brushing saltily over your overheated skin. âTake it all for me. Every. Last. Fucking. Inch.â
As punctuation, he slams home with a sharp roll of his hips that has you keening shrilly and throwing your head back. You clutch at him desperately, meeting each heavy thrust in perfect counterpoint as he picks up the pace. The air is thick with the obscene sounds of skin sliding relentlessly together and your punched-out whimpers and moans.
Carlos has never felt so deliriously consumed by physicality before. Itâs like his whole world has narrowed down to this moment, this connection of your joined bodies moving as one. He wants to burn the memory of how you feel, how you sound, how you taste, into his mind forever.
âLook at me,â he growls against the sweat-slick curve of your jaw when your eyes start to drift shut in ecstasy. âI wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart on my cock, princesa.â
You force your lids open with obvious effort, irises wild and hazy with lust. Carlos feels a molten surge of possessive desire lash through his veins at the sight. He slams into you with renewed fervor, savoring the high, desperate whine it punches from your parted lips.
âThatâs it, cariĂąo ... fuck, youâre exquisite like this.â His praise comes out in a ruined rasp but it seems to spur you on. Your nails dig bruising furrows into his lower back as you meet him thrust for bruising thrust.
Carlos can feel the telltale tightening and fluttering in your inner walls that signals your impending release like a vise grip around his cock. He wants nothing more than for you to shatter apart on his length. Slipping one hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he finds the swollen bundle of nerves and rolls it firmly between calloused fingertips.
You release a strangled scream, back bowing off the mattress as white-hot pleasure spikes through you. âCarlos! Oh my god, Carlos, Iâm ⌠I canât ...â
âCome for me, princesa,â Carlos encourages hoarsely against the side of your neck. He continues to work you over with nimble fingers in time with the punishing snap of his hips. âLet me feel you come apart all over my cock. Fucking soak it ...â
The guttural river of carnal filth coming from his lips seems to be the final straw, sending you crashing violently over the edge. You seize up around him with a shrill, sobbing wail, inner muscles clamping down in hot, pulsing waves. Carlos curses roughly, eyes squeezing shut against the unbelievable sensation of being massaged and milked for every drop.
If he thought the vice grip of your orgasm was intense, the aftermath is even more sublime. You lie utterly limp and boneless beneath him, still aflutter and fluttering in sweet, rhythmic clenches around his cock. He grits his jaw and fights to keep control, knowing he wonât last much longer buried in your intoxicating heat like this.
When you finally regain some coherency, eyes fluttering open with a dazed murmur of his name, Carlos pulls back slowly until just the throbbing crown remains inside. He intends to give you a brief respite before chasing his own thunderous release, but the moment he starts to withdraw your legs lock high around his hips.
âNo ...â You keen, nails raking pleadingly down his back. The desperate craving in your tone very nearly undoes him. âCarlos, please. Donât stop ...â
Growling low in his chest, Carlos immediately buries himself home once more â this time with a single, powerful thrust that has your brows shooting up as the air rushes from your lungs in a strangled cry. Clearly, you still need it as much as he does.
He fists one hand in the tousled hair at the nape of your neck, using the grip to tilt your head to one side as he lays a searing path of nips and sucking kisses along the exposed column. You shudder and whimper beneath him, utterly pliant and receptive to his claiming touches.
âTell me what you want, cariĂąo,â he rasps between rough drags of teeth over your thundering pulse point. He remains buried to the hilt, muscles bunched and quivering with the effort of holding himself rigid and still inside you. âUse your words and tell me.â
For a long moment, you seem too dazed and overwhelmed to reply. Then, in a small, wrecked voice, âI want ⌠I want you to fuck me, Carlos. Please ...â Your eyes are glazed yet earnest, boring into his from beneath sooty lashes. âDonât hold back. I need to feel you come too.â
A harsh groan is punched from Carlosâ lungs at your plea. Letting himself go and really taking you the way his body screams at him to would be heaven and hell all at once.
Thereâs likely no coming back from it â heâll ruin you for anyone elseâs touch, just as he warned. Once all is said and done, youâll be irrevocably his in a way that frightens and exhilarates him to his core.
For a heart-stopping moment, he hesitates. And then you moan again â a thin, keening sound of utter desperation â and itâs like the last thread of Carlosâ control snaps completely.
âHold on tight then, cariĂąo ... because I wonât be able to stop.â
Thatâs the only warning he gives before pulling almost fully out and slamming back home in one brutal thrust that drives the air from your lungs on a high, shocked cry. He doesnât let up from there â turning you over onto your belly and dragging your hips up onto his thighs so he can take you from behind in a series of ruthless, punishing strokes.
You quickly become an incoherent, sobbing mess beneath his onslaught, hands clawing uselessly at the sheets as he pounds into you again and again like heâs trying to split you apart. Carlos relishes the sharp smack of sweat-slick flesh on flesh, the strained crescendo of your hoarse wails, the drug-like delirium of being utterly surrounded and consumed by your scorching velvet grip.
Itâs too much and not enough all at once. He clutches you flush against him, one big hand spread over your lower stomach like he could somehow force his cock impossibly deeper. The other winds around to toy and tug almost cruelly at your taut, reddened nipples â drawing out a stream of broken, overwhelmed whimpers.
Carlos has never felt more powerful. Body and mind, he owns you utterly in this moment. The thought is nearly enough to send him skating right over the edge into oblivion.
Instead, he jerks you up onto your knees fully so he can plunge into your straining, overworked sex at a different angle â this one hitting something deep inside that has you screaming hoarsely. He captures the wild thrash of your head in the curve of one sweat-slick bicep to bare the elegant line of your throat to his hungry mouth.
âCould you possibly have taken any more of me, princesa?â Carlos husks against the side of your neck, relishing the way it makes you tremble and clench even harder around his pistoning length. âYou were made just to be split open on my cock ...â
You let out a garbled sound halfway between agreement and overwhelmed protest. Carlos snarls against your racing pulse, sucking a blatant mark of possession just below your jaw where everyone will be able to see before abruptly rolling you both back over.
He looms above you once more, grinding steadily into your core with deep, purposeful strokes that leave you writhing and wailing with over-stimulation. But Carlos isnât finished yet â isnât anywhere close to getting his fill.
âLook at me, cariĂąo,â he commands in a guttural rasp, waiting with molten, heavy-lidded eyes until your lust-drunk stare meets his. âI need to see that pretty face when I come inside you ...â
His words seem to energize you somewhat, your eyes snapping sharper with renewed awareness.
And then, incredibly, you cunt flutters and grips down around him again in the unmistakable clutch of another orgasm ripping through you like a livewire. Carlos has to use every ounce of stamina and control not to follow you right over that blinding edge as you thrash and shriek beautifully beneath him.
By the time you come back down, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, Carlos is practically vibrating with the force of his impending release. His movements have taken on a desperate edge, hips snapping in erratic, forceful jabs as he chases that final blissful oblivion.
When your sated, velvety heat squeezes rhythmically one final time, Carlos throws his head back with his own roar of release. White-hot rapture spikes through every nerve ending as his balls tighten in excruciating bliss. His world narrows down to the exquisite pulsing of your sheathed depths rippling and drawing every last drop from him in endless, blistering waves.
It seems to stretch on forever, Carlos unable and unwilling to move from his impaled position even once the final shudders have wrung him dry. He simply remains blanketed over you, lungs heaving and muscles quaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm.
When he finally regains enough presence of mind to open his eyes and look down at you, the devotion burning in your spent, glowing expression makes his breath catch. For a long, fragile moment, itâs like youâre the only two people in the world.
Eventually, your eyes drift shut on a contented sigh and your body goes lax and pliant against the sheets once more. Carefully, Carlos eases out of your swollen, used entrance and rolls to collapse in a sweaty heap beside you. He immediately tugs you into his embrace, savoring the feeling of your damp, feverish skin pressed to his.
As you drift off to slumber coiled against his chest, Carlos presses a lingering, tender kiss to your crown and tightens his arms around you. He can feel the words pressing at his lips, straining to be released into the silence of this moment.
For now, he keeps them locked behind his teeth. But already he knows this isnât simply lust or passion or a primal need for revenge that will fade with time. This was always meant to be more â something deeper âŚ. everything Carlos never even realized he was missing until you stormed into his life in a whirlwind of smiles and secrets and blinding desire.
Heâs in trouble now. Trouble of the very best kind.
***
Pale morning light filters in through the sheer curtains as Carlos blinks awake slowly. For a disoriented moment, heâs unsure of his surroundings â the rumpled white linens tangled around his naked body are certainly not what heâs used to waking up in.
Then the previous nightâs events come rushing back in a heated wave. The pool ⌠the frantic, desperate passion as he took you again and again until you were both hollowed out and sated ⌠finally collapsing into a sweaty pile together. Carlos feels his chest tighten with a complicated swirl of emotions.
He turns his head on the pillow to find the source of the delicious warmth pressed along his side. And just like that, everything else falls away.
Youâre tangled up with him still, one shapely leg hooked over his and an arm flung possessively across his torso. Loose riotous locks tickle Carlosâ skin where your face is half-buried in the curve of his neck.
He has to tamp down the overwhelming urge to pull you even closer, to wrap you in his arms and inhale the sweet, clean scent of your hair.
Like this â sleep-rumpled and soft in the morningâs buttery rays â you look almost unbearably lovely. An ache blossoms behind Carlosâ ribs as he studies the delicate fan of your lashes brushing flushed cheekbones and the gentle part of those full lips. Disheveled and without a stitch of make-up, youâre somehow even more breathtakingly beautiful.
Unconsciously, Carlosâ fingers find their way into your tangled tresses, lightly stroking and playing with the silken strands. You make a small, snuffling sound of contentment and burrow infinitesimally closer. He freezes, worried heâs disturbed your slumber, but your features remain smooth and serene.
He should get up. He should definitely get up and extract himself from this warm, addictive little bubble youâve created before things go any further. This was only ever supposed to be a fling â a deliciously vindictive way to get back at your father for how he so callously cast Carlos aside.
Yet even as Carlos turns the thought over in his head, it rings hollow. What happened between you last night transcended anything so petty and cruel as revenge.
When he was sheathed so deeply inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync like they were made for each other, Carlos felt something far more profound than just physical gratification. It was spiritual ⌠cosmic, even, like every star in the universe had finally clicked into perfect alignment.
He should be disgusted with himself for having such saccharine notions. Carlos has always considered himself a realist â someone grounded in facts and figures, not given to romantic flights of fancy whatsoever. Yet here he is, helplessly mooning over a woman he barely knows all because of one night of incredible sex.
Except ⌠Carlos is self-aware enough to recognize there was more to it than that, even if he canât put words to the feeling yet. Some invisible cord has been lashed between you in a knot that feels unbreakable. Some intangible shift has occurred in his perspective that he canât seem to walk back from.
Perhaps you sensed it too in the way you gazed at him afterwards â not just satiated, but glowing with a sort of wondering, naked adoration far too profound for a mere fuck. Carlos knows he should have been unnerved by the depth of emotion in your spent, happy features. And yet, he only felt it mirrored and compounded tenfold within himself.
With a frustrated huff, he tugs you closer and burrows his face into your hair, allowing your warm, comforting scent to soothe his wildly spiraling thoughts. You make another soft sound and your fingers twitch where theyâre splayed over his ribs â reflexively trying to pull him in even tighter.
âWhat are you doing to me, princesa?â Carlos murmurs, low and graveled, against the crown of your head. âThis isnât how it was supposed to go at all ...â
Because the truth is, this was never meant to be anything more than a fleeting dalliance â an explosive joining of bodies and nothing more. But now that heâs had you, had this bone-deep connection to you, Carlos doesnât think he can let it go so easily. The prospect of never again feeling you wrapped so perfectly around him in every sense of the word is abruptly gut-wrenchingly awful.
Which leaves him at an impasse. Because you ⌠you are the daughter of the very man who unceremoniously discarded Carlos like an old rag after he gave everything to Ferrari. The offspring of the person who threw him away in a way that cut all the way to his core.
How could he possibly pursue anything real with you after that? It would be a horrific conflict of interests and constantly make things unbearably awkward, to say the very least. Not to mention Carlos has no idea if you even want more than just this one night of passion between you anyway. Perhaps to you he really was just an itch to scratch, a bout of impulsive lust to take the edge off before moving on.
The thought makes his stomach churn with jealousy so potent he has to physically swallow it back. Which ⌠is not great, all things considered.
Tilting your head back with the lightest touch beneath your chin, Carlos studies your soft features searchingly. Perhaps if he stares hard enough, heâll find some hint of deception or shallowness there. Some glaring evidence that this insane sense of yearning he feels is all one-sided â a misguided obsession brought on by the sort of euphoric sex one can never quite recapture once the high fades. He could use that as his cue to bow out now while youâre still tangled up together so prettily.
But even as he looks, really looks, all Carlos sees is the serene picture of a thoroughly satisfied, openly contented woman. Thereâs no shuttered gaze or pinched expression betraying any darker thoughts and feelings. Just blissed-out joy written in every relaxed line of those lovely features.
Something in Carlosâ chest cracks wide open at the realization that this is real for you too. Youâre not just some meaningless one-off fling, but a woman who seems to have had her entire world upended in the same way his has been over the span of one incredible night.
âCarlos?â You murmur then, voice husky and slurred with the remnants of sleep as your lashes flutter open. âWhatâs wrong, mon beau?â
Your endearment sends a shockwave of tenderness and want pulsing through him straight to the roots. Carlos shakes his head minutely, winding one hand into your hair to hold you steady so he can simply ⌠bask in your presence for a while.
âNothingâs wrong, princesa,â he assures you lowly, thumb stroking gently over the arch of your cheekbone. âI just woke up early and got a little lost in my head for a bit there, thatâs all.â
That small, secret smile heâs rapidly becoming addicted to tugs at your lips as your eyes rove languidly over his face. Your hand comes up to rest over his thundering heartbeat with surprising tenderness.
âWell then allow me to bring you back to the present. Right here with me.â
Your tone has taken on that rich sultriness from last night that shoots straight to his groin. Before Carlos can so much as draw breath to respond, youâre rising up to seal your mouth over his in a searingly passionate kiss.
He groans instantly, every atom of his being tuned to your frequency in a way thatâs swiftly becoming terrifyingly natural. Carlosâ hands roam hungrily over your naked curves of their own volition, relearning each dip and swell through the silken glide of skin on skin.
When you break apart at last, youâre both thoroughly breathless and aroused. Carlos splays one big hand over the small of your back and simply holds you flush against him, savoring the feeling of your racing heart thundering in tandem with his own. He brushes kiss-swollen lips along the line of your jaw, prompting a delicious shiver.
âDonât think for one second that Iâve had even a fraction of my fill of you yet, cariĂąo,â he rasps against the feverish skin just below your ear, using his free hand to tug your head back so he can access the soft column of your throat. âYouâve addicted me beyond any chance of recovery now.â
Your breath hitches as he latches his mouth just above your thundering pulse point and sucks a blatant mark. Carlos revels in the needy whimpers spilling from your lips with each pass of his tongue over the tender patch of skin. He needs to mark you, claim you, render you unmistakable as his in every possible way.
âCarlos ...â You keen, back arching like a drawn bow as he continues trailing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your neck and over your collarbones. âWhat are you saying?â
He pulls back to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, searching intently for permission to continue with what he suspects youâre asking. And there it is â desire and hope and invitation burning brightly in your soulful eyes, practically begging him to put words to this singular thing blazing between you.
Cupping your face in both hands, Carlos holds your rapt stare as he slowly, reverently presses a soft, lingering kiss to your slightly parted lips. You melt into him, one hand coming up to clutch desperately at his bicep.
âIâm saying,â he murmurs against the plush give of your pretty mouth. âThat I canât simply let this be the end, princesa. Not anymore. Not after experiencing what it feels like to be so exquisitely connected with someone in every possible way.â
The smile you give him in answer is as incandescent and warm as a living flame. You donât attempt to contain the rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you simply wind your arms around Carlosâ neck and pull him down into a molten kiss that somehow manages to convey every single infinite feeling ricocheting between your bodies.
He suddenly feels so overwhelmingly lucky in that moment. Lucky to have crossed paths with you by happenstance. Lucky that, by some miracle, he didnât allow bitterness or pain or preconceived notions to blind him to your kindness and warmth and inherent goodness despite how this whole crazy thing started in his mind.
Because yes, you are the daughter of the man who turned his life and career upside down. But here, pressed against you, Carlos can feel the truth resonating through his bones â you are so much more than any of that.
And for the first time in his life, Carlos cannot fathom the idea of anything frightening him away.
***
The frantic Melbourne nightlife whirls and pulsates around Carlos in a dizzying kaleidoscope of neon lights and pounding basslines. Normally he would revel in the thrum of energy and excess â drinking in the atmosphere and feeding off the infectious exhilaration. But tonight, seated alone in the VIP lounge of one of the cityâs most exclusive clubs, he finds his attention utterly undivided.
You stand out like a siren among the raucous crowd, every tilt of your hips and toss of your hair captivating Carlos completely.
He tracks the line of your body shamelessly as you sway and twist to the driving beat, that tantalizing little red dress riding up to reveal glimpses of toned, silky thighs that make his mouth water. A fine sheen of sweat glistens enticingly along your collarbones and in the hollow of your throat, no doubt making your overheated skin taste like salted caramel.
The urge to slide up behind you and drag his tongue along that slender, tempting slope is damn near overwhelming. He can vividly picture himself molding his larger frame against your softly undulating form, one hand spanning possessively across your lower belly to grind the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal against the lush swell of your rear.
He imagines precisely how you would react â arching back against him with a shuddering gasp, fingers threading into his hair to tug his mouth down upon yours in a frantic, needy kiss. How you would whimper and writhe against him, uncaring of the very public surroundings as desire rapidly whited everything else out ...
Almost as if sensing the scorching path of Carlosâ thoughts, you glance over your shoulder and catch his eye from beneath the veil of your lashes. That sly, inviting little smile immediately kicks his pulse into overdrive and lights a slow bloom of liquid heat unfurling in his lower belly.
With a crooked finger and a subtle uptilt of your chin you summon him to your side. And like the hopeless fool he is, Carlos rises instantly and crosses the small distance to enfold you in his arms from behind.
âHaving fun out here without me, cariĂąo?â He murmurs in your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell so he feels the full-body shiver that wracks through you.
You lean back into his embrace, all soft curves and intoxicating jasmine scent. âIâm always having fun when Iâm with you, Mr. Race Winner,â you sigh as your fingers trail delicately down the solid line of his biceps. âEven if weâre just sitting around doing nothing.â
The words are simple â honest and unguarded in a way that makes Carlosâ heart seize in his chest. For two people who came together in a wild collision of lust and passion, itâs moments like these that continually remind him of how much deeper your connection truly runs. Far beyond mere physicality into some soul-binding and unbreakable place.
You must sense the shift in his energy because you turn in his arms, expression questioning but so openly caring it nearly steals Carlosâ breath away. Tenderly, you cup his jaw and search his eyes.
âWhatâs going on in that beautiful head of yours, hmm?â
He shakes his head minutely, leaning down to brush his lips across your forehead before pulling you snug against his chest. You settle easily into the circle of his arms like thatâs the most natural place in the world, cheek pillowed over his steadily thrumming heart.
âNothing to worry about, princesa,â Carlos assures you gruffly, stroking soothing circles over the warm bare skin of your back. âJust feeling ⌠lucky, I suppose. To have found someone like you.â
The words seem to catch you off guard and you pull back slightly to study his face, mouth curved in that secretive little smile that always makes Carlosâ stomach swoop.
âWell, I certainly feel the luckiest woman on Earth,â you tease lightly, booping his nose in a playful gesture that somehow serves to implant roots deep in Carlosâ soul rather than make him roll his eyes.
Instead, he just gazes at you for a long, weighted moment, allowing himself to simply bask in your presence. In the soft beauties that first drew him in â that delicate blush that finds its way across your nose and cheekbones, the little crinkles that bloom when your smile widens to that mega-watt, face-splitting beam, and those soulful eyes that never fail to pin Carlos helplessly in place.
Then there are the quieter, more intimate details heâs gradually uncovered the deeper he delves into your connection. The barely-there laugh lines at the corners of your eyes when youâre feeling particularly pleased about something. The trick of tugging on your lower lip with your teeth when youâre aroused and trying not to show it. The subtle furrow that appears between your brows when youâre concentrating intently on something.
Carlos knows them all now like geography he was born to navigate.
Without conscious thought, he smooths his thumbs over your jaw and guides you up into a slow, thorough kiss that has both your pulses kicking into overdrive. You whine quietly into his mouth, winding your arms around his neck and arching against him in ways that instantaneously have him hard and aching. But Carlos doesnât give in to the heated urgency coursing through his bloodstream.
Instead, he keeps the languid glide of his lips over yours unhurried and leisurely â savoring the sensation of you pliant and receptive beneath his seduction. You seem to shake off your initial fervor as well, melting further into the molten drag of his mouth claiming yours over and over.
This too is a geography Carlos has long since mastered. The precise angle he needs to tilt his head to slot your bodies effortlessly flush together. The soft, mewling noises he can coax out of you with carefully applied suction to your plush lower lip. The tiny shudders when he swipes his tongue in long, slick caresses over the roof of your mouth.
Youâre practically vibrating with restraint by the time he finally releases your mouth with an obscene, wet pop. Your lips are swollen and glistening, glistening with shared wanting. Carlos hums deep in his chest and brushes the pad of his thumb over the slick fullness reverently.
âSo impatient, cariĂąo,â he chides with a wolfish grin that has your nipples visibly peaking beneath the thin lace bodice. âYou know thatâs not what I had in mind for tonight.â
With an adorable little pout, you wind your arms around his neck once more. âAnd what, pray tell, did you have in mind?â
A dozen filthy scenarios immediately clamor for attention in Carlosâ head. Having you right here, up against the wall of this secluded VIP area. Bending you over the sleek lines of one of the low leather couches. Finding a shadowed alcove and sinking to his knees before you, nosing aside those delicate strips of lace to ...
He banishes each carnal thought before it can take root and produce visible effect. Tangling his fingers through the soft tresses at the nape of your neck, Carlos brings your foreheads together with a soft smile.
âI thought we might enjoy a moonlight stroll along the beach actually,â he murmurs, relishing the way your disappointed huff ruffles against his skin. âJust you and me under the stars, far away from the noise and crowds for a while.â
You regard him dubiously for a moment before seeming to melt at whatever expression Carlos doesnât realize heâs allowed to show through. As always, you give in far too easily to his indulgent whims.
With a soft, fond roll of your eyes, you press up on your toes to drop a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. âOf course, mon amour. Just you and me under the stars.â
Twenty minutes later finds you ambling hand in hand down a pristine stretch of beach in the Middle Park suburb. The warm, salty breeze gusts gently over your skin, carrying traces of coconut sunscreen and the briny musk of the sea. Foamy waves lap invitingly against the silvered sands as Carlos steers you towards a small, isolated cove.
He procures a large woven blanket from his bag and unfurls it in a clear spot before tugging you down into the plush nest of fabric. You immediately gravitate into his space â curling against his side and tucking yourself beneath his arm like thatâs where you were always meant to fit. For Carlosâ part, he cherishes the easy affection and careless intimacy of the simple gesture more than youâll ever know.
You spend what could be minutes or hours like that â exchanging lazy kisses and sipping from a shared bottle of wine as the moon rises ever higher overhead. After a while, Carlos sprawls onto his back and you quickly drape yourself half-atop him so he can leisurely card his fingers through your windswept tresses.
The soft, steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear combined with the soothing sounds of the lapping tide soon have your eyelids drooping. Carlos has never felt so at peace â this sublime bubble with you the single point around which the rest of the universe spins, perfectly in balance.
âHey,â you mumble against the warm, sleep-rumpled fabric of his shirt. âArenât you the one always saying we should be living in the present?â
He huffs a quiet laugh, stroking one hand down the dip of your spine to rest possessively at the base. âWhat brings that up all of a sudden?â
You shift enough to look up at him through your lashes, eyes molten with a familiar heat that shivers down Carlosâ spine.
âIâm just wondering whatâs got you stuck in your head so often these days,â you counter smoothly, punctuating the observation by swinging one leg over his hips so you can settle atop him fully, careful not to disturb his still-tender stitches. âWeâve barely been able to share ⌠intimate moments at all the last month or so.â
Carlos sucks in a sharp breath as your weight settles over the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal. His hands find your hips of their own volition, squeezing reflexively as you begin moving atop him in a slow, undulating rhythm.
âPerhaps Iâve been overtly romantic,â he allows through gritted teeth, letting his head thunk back against the blanket as desire rapidly thrums through his veins. âMissing out on more ⌠physical expressions of passion just because I wanted to remind both of us that this is built on so much more than lust.â
You hum thoughtfully, sitting up fully and swaying atop him in a way that has Carlos rapidly losing his tenuous grasp on reality beyond this blissful patch of the world containing just the two of you. Heâs fully hard and straining against the loose linen of his slacks within moments.
âThen maybe we should do something about that right now,â you breathe huskily, arching your back in an inhumanly graceful roll that leaves Carlosâ mouth dry as the Sahara. His hands track helplessly up the delicious curves of your waist, bunching the delicate material of your dress around your hips.
He sits up to meet you so suddenly your foreheads nearly crack together. You release a breathless giggle that Carlos hungrily swallows with his lips, trapping you in a searing kiss filled with all the smoldering hunger heâs been studiously keeping banked for weeks now.
Mindlessly, he chases the taste of you over and over â salty and sweet and everything heâs been desperately starving himself for. His fingers fumble at the tie closures along your ribs until the bodice finally falls away, baring your breasts to his gaze and seeking hands.
You gasp softly into the heated seal of his mouth when Carlosâ calloused palms close over your soft, pliant flesh. He cups and kneads with reverent, possessive strokes that have you quickly arching your chest further into his touch and throwing your head back on a wanton moan.
âCarlos ...â You breathe his name like a prayer, riding his lap with increasing urgency and bringing your mouths back together in a clash of teeth and tongues. Your fingers slide up beneath the hem of his shirt to map the shifting planes of his abdomen, nails raking over the taut, quivering muscles. âDonât hold back with me any longer. Not tonight ⌠need to feel all of you.â
A shudder wracks Carlosâ entire frame at your breathy plea. He knows youâre right, can feel that same desperate yearning driving you magnified inside himself. Every cell of his body is vibrating with the need to take you fully â heart, mind, and body aligning in euphoric harmony after so many weeks of well meaning denial.
Seizing your hips in a bruising grip, Carlos surges to his feet and simply holds you against him with easy strength. Your legs immediately wind around his waist as you giggle deliriously against his lips.
âIs this what you want, princesa?â He murmurs lowly, swaying subtly to grind his straining need over the lush juncture of your thighs in counterpoint. âFor me to finally have my way with you the way weâve both been craving?â
âYes,â you hiss out through clenched teeth, back arching as Carlos nips and sucks a path down the slender column of your neck. âGod, yes, Carlos. Will you just fuck me already? Here on the sand and beneath the open sky like something out of one of those romance novels you pretend not to love.â
The easy teasing breaks through whatever lingering threads of Carlosâ control were still intact and he growls low in his chest. In one deft motion, he divests you both of the rest of your clothes and spreads you out on the blanket before him in all your unabashed glory. His gaze tracks over your form hungrily, drinking in every dip and swell as you watch him with dark, wanting eyes.
âPrincesa ...â Carlos breathes, gratified to see his own desire and reverent longing reflected back at him tenfold in your heated stare. âNo more waiting, no more teasing.â
His meaning is clear even without the punctuation of sinking down to settle fully over your smaller form, blanketing you with his weight and forcing your thighs apart to cradle his hips. You immediately writhe beneath him, winding limber arms and legs around him in a vice grip that sears every point of contact between you.
âCarlos, mon cĹur ...â You keen breathily into the scant space separating your lips, every word punched from you in counterpoint to the sensual roll of his hips grinding his arousal through your slick folds. âPlease. I need you. Need to feel you all around me again after so long.â
He crushes his mouth to yours in answer, tongue instantly delving deep to taste the exquisite velvet heat of you. You clutch him closer even as Carlos shifts his weight to one forearm so his other hand can roam freely over every inch of bare, pebbled skin he can reach. When his calloused palm finally finds your breast and gives a rough squeeze, you shudder and cry out into his waiting lips.
Thereâs no more waiting after that. Carlos sheaths himself in one powerful, purposeful thrust that buries him to the hilt and your gasp dissolves into a broken moan. He stills for the briefest of moments, just reveling in the unbearably tight clutch of your molten sheath, every nerve ending alight and thrumming. Then he slowly withdraws until just the swollen head remains inside before immediately surging forward once more.
Your nails score lines of liquid fire down his back at the first deep, dragging stroke. But Carlos barely notices the delicious sting. Heâs utterly consumed by the feeling of finally being surrounded by you again â hot, snug, and so utterly perfect. Every sound and shudder and arch of your form against his own is like the sweetest plea washing over him.
He sets a demanding pace, relentlessly pounding into you from that first jarring thrust onward. The only sounds are your mingled cries and the wet, obscene smack of flesh on flesh echoing out over the lapping ocean waves. Carlos wants to make sure thereâs no doubt in your mind how much heâs craved every inch of you.
âThereâs my good girl,â he rasps hotly against the bullet-hard peak of your nipple before laving it soothingly with his tongue. You release a strangled cry, back bowing sharply off the blanket as you clench down on him in rippling, vice-like pulses. âFuck ⌠taking me just how you were made to. So damn perfect, cariĂąo.â
Your garbled whimpers and keens of his name drive Carlos to new levels of feverish intensity with each hitching breath. He snakes an arm beneath your sweat-slick lower back to position your hips at a slightly higher angle, seating himself even more deeply inside.
Every purposeful thrust now grinds against that tender cluster of nerves in a way that quickly has your eyes rolling back. You go boneless and whimpering, allowing Carlos to manhandle and use your plaint and plush form in whatever way he craves.
Pressure rapidly mounts within Carlos like an incoming tidal wave as your inner walls begin fluttering around him in telltale pulses. He can feel his own imminent release building in tandem at the base of his spine, that familiar molten curl of pleasure threatening to crest.
âThatâs it, princesa,â he grits out raggedly against the sweat-slick arch of your throat. He slides the hand not anchoring your hips down to toy with the engorged pearl at your apex â drawing out a stream of sobbing wails. âTake whatâs yours. Fucking milk me with that greedy little cunt. You were made for this cock, made to be split open and ruined on it over and over until youâve got no idea where you end and I begin.â
The filthy words seems to be your undoing. With a sobbing cry of Carlosâ name, you seize up â inner walls rippling and convulsing like theyâre taking him for everything heâs worth. Carlos hardens his jaw and summons the last threads of his control to keep himself from shattering apart at the very first fluttering pulse.
As the shattering waves of your release gradually crest and ebb, Carlos chases them down with powerful thrusts designed to prolong and intensify every aftershock. You writhe and whimper beneath him in overstimulated pleasure, rapidly going boneless and sated.
Thatâs when he finally surrenders to the smoldering inferno in his belly, hips snapping forward in a few final, erratic strokes before Carlos throws back his head and allows his own orgasm to rip through him. White-hot euphoria explodes across every nerve ending as he empties himself in heavy, throbbing pulses deep inside your spasming core.
âAh fuck ⌠just like that, cariĂąo,â he rasps out hoarsely, grinding himself as deeply inside you as physically possible and simply shuddering through each exquisite contraction. âTaking every last fucking drop of me right where you were made for it ...â
Utterly spent, Carlos collapses forward with the last dregs of his stamina â just barely managing to catch himself on shaking forearms so he doesnât crush you beneath his weight. You immediately latch onto him, peppering his flushed face with sweet kisses.
For several long moments, you simply hold each other through the aftershocks, chests heaving and bodies trembling. Carlos has never felt more peaceful or completely at ease in his entire life. His every sense is utterly surrounded and suffused by you in the most blissful of ways.
When his lashes finally flutter open, the first thing he sees is your adoring smile glowing up at him in the moonlight. It nearly steals what little breath remains in his lungs.
âHi,â you murmur shyly. Carlos huffs out a breathless chuckle and tugs you even closer until your overwarm bodies are aligned from navel to sternum.
âHi yourself, princesa,â he replies, just as softly against your lips before sinking into another deep, leisurely kiss that tastes equal parts salt and sex and forever.
When you part again, your eyes are sparkling with so much uncomplicated happiness that Carlos nearly melts into a useless puddle on the spot. Heâs drowning and heâs never felt more gloriously unmoored.
âI love you, yâknow? Like ⌠down to the depths of my soul,â your fingers trail over the sharp jaw and cheekbones you now know better than your own.
The words should terrify Carlos with their intensity and implication. Instead, they simply roll through him in a cresting wave of overwhelming tenderness and clarity.
Of course he loves you. How could he not, when his existence now seems to revolve around your presence as the only fixed point in a dizzying orbit?
So rather than balk or deflect or shove those emotions back down, Carlos allows every infinite but of love and adoration and soul-deep need to shine through unfettered. He cradles your face between his palms and simply stares, committing every minuscule detail of this moment to memory before leaning down to brush his lips over yours in the sweetest, most loaded caress.
âI love you too, princesa,â he murmurs the words directly into your mouth like a sacrament. âWith every fiber of my being. You are my everything.â
You tug him down into a heated, clinging embrace, holding him like you never intend to let go.
And at last, Carlos knows without a shadow of doubt that he never will either
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underneath the surface pt.2
i wrote a part two to a fic? sorry what?
anyways loved will always have a soft spot for this! hope you all enjoy and lmk how you felt about it xo
warnings: soft smut & soft angst viewer discretion advised
Alexia knows she should be the brave face in this whole situation, sheâs not the one sitting in a hospital gown on a gurney about to head into surgery, but that doesnât change the fact that sheâs sizzling with anxiety. She doesnât know why, there isnât anything particularly terrifying about her circumstances, this is a routine surgery, the chance of complication is extremely low, the chance of death is less than 1%. She knows because sheâs google checked five times in the last hour.
Sheâs trying to hide it, because she knows even though you are putting on a brave face you are secretly terrified. Sheâs been playing the chivalrous girlfriend. Trying to eliminate any outside stress so that you donât have to worry about it, which is causing Alexia to stumble into a spiral of worries. Sheâs worried for you, sheâs worried for the future, sheâs worried about everything that moves and breathes.
Alexia can normally cope under stress, give her a game winning penalty in a world cup winning game and sheâll treat it with the same amount of composure as she would a penalty in a 20-0 friendly game.
Alexia stressing about you though, is a completely different story. Sheâs snapped at everyone in the lead up to this week, sheâs shut down, sheâs in her fortress and until she knows that youâre going to be okay thatâs not going to change.
Youâre the best thing that happened to her, and even though she has absolutely zero impact on whatâs going to happen in the operation room she feels like if she controls all of the outside variables then somehow thatâs her contribution. She wants to believe that if she can make everything on the outside right, then itâll somehow change whatâs happening on the inside, Alexia wishes deep down that she could fix it all and that this situation wasnât happening.
Alexia doesnât understand why you suffer so much from a disease that has no cure, she doesnât understand why something so horrible exists and why you are plagued with it.
You donât seem phased at all, like this is normal routine for you which is making Alexia feel even worse.
Youâve gone about your morning as usual, denying Alexia in every way as she tried to do random acts of service that were actually useless.
Youâd quite literally breezed your way through it all and to the hospital without a waiver, no tears, no worries, no stress. It was a long time coming, Alexia appreciated the fact that from what you and google had told her, laparoscopyâs could be life changing for people with endometriosis, it could effectively make your quality of life during your period so much better. But it was still surgery, Alexia remembers when she had her acl surgery, she was a bundle of nerves to the point where her mami had to sit by her bed to stop her from hyperventilating whilst they administered the anaesthesia.
There is no clutching for Alexiaâs hand, no desperate admissions of fear, no articulation of any anxieties or stress. Youâre practically meditative, sitting on the hospital bed in your gown waiting patiently for the doctors to come and collect you.
Alexiaâs walked herself through the surgery hundreds of time, when she canât sleep at night itâs the first thing that her mind drifts to, there isnât any set routine for a laparoscopy, itâs based on how much tissue has built up and where itâs built up. They wonât know until they open you up, from the limited amount of information Alexia has been able to extract about your past surgeries sheâs figured out that for you in the past, it normally builds up in your pelvis, fallopian tubes, the ligaments around your uterus, your ovaries and the last time you had a laparoscopy they even found small clusters on your bladder, vertebraes and bowel. Hopefully, theyâll just find it around your uterus, but if there are signs that it might have attached to other organs then the surgery can become far more invasive and longer. Your doctor has said that in the best case scenario it could take an hour or two, worst case scenario it might take upwards of 5 hours.
At least two hours of Alexia falling deeper and deeper into her fear that something horribly bad is going to happen.
Youâd encouraged her to touch base with her therapist in preparation, a proposal that Alexia had laughed at. She knew that youâd talked to your psychologist a day beforehand in preparation, and told her that if possible youâd like to follow up a few days after your surgery. Alexia had no reason to reach out though, she wasnât the one who was having her reproductive organs sliced up, it was her job to make sure that you were able to achieve optimal recovery. Your health was Alexiaâs biggest concern, she needed you to recover, she needed you back on the pitch with her, she needed you back to normal as soon as possible, so that all of her stress and anxiety about everything that was happening could dissipate.
âAlexia, youâre squeezing.â
Alexia looked down at her hand, it was resting on the outside of you thigh, her hand all fisted up in your skin and the paper thin hospital bedding.
âSorry bebita.â
Alexia retracted her hand as if had been burnt, she felt horribly guilty about the selfishness of her feelings, it wasnât right for her to be so twisted up in her own troubles. She wasnât the one suffering.
She didnât know how to explain it, she felt like a child with her hand between couch cushions, reaching for something and only grazing for the edge of it. She only grazed the edge of understanding what you were going through, it felt like she was eternally reaching for more, trying to feel it, and yet she didnât have hands big enough to grab what she wanted. She didnât have the tools to fix this, she didnât have the body to understand what you were going through, she was left searching without any chance of retrieving anything.
âAlexia.â
Alexia looked up at you, there was something in your body language, like you were uncomfortable, or on the border of being uncomfortable.
âIâm sorry bebe, is everything alright? Are you comfortable? Iâm sure theyâll be in soon to come and get you, I know you must want to get this over with.â
You roll your eyes, and Alexia is aware that itâs your way of saying no, but for some reason it cuts deeper for her, sheâs so on edge, sheâs been on edge ever since you got your surgery date and itâs all starting to reach a certain point that is pushing Alexia in ways she doesnât understand.
âI want my girlfriend to relax. Iâm going to be fine Alexia, nothing is going to happen.â
Alexia knows that factually youâre correct, but in Alexiaâs imaginative brain she canât wrap her head around the truth.
âI know bebita, I just want to make sure that you are feeling good, si? Youâre comfortable? Itâs important for your recovery that you feel as good as possible.â
Your roll your eyes again.
âAlexia, everything is perfect, itâs all fine. Iâve recovered from this same surgery two times, Iâm prepared. Youâve made sure that when I get home Iâll be comfortable, Iâve walked you through what the next week might looked like. Iâm prepared and so are you, everything is going to be fine.â
Youâre eerily calm and Alexia canât tell whether or not itâs a front to hide your secret insecurities or if you seriously are content with what you are going through.
She supposes that when youâve been living with something so debilitating for such a long time that at some stage you get used to constantly being disappointed with your body and constantly knowing that it doesnât perform the same way that other peopleâs do.
âI know bebita.â
Alexia doesnât even sound like she believes herself.
âDo you? Because it doesnât seem that way.â
Alexia doesnât want you worrying about her, she doesnât want you worrying about anything, she wants you to feel calm.
âBebe, Iâm fine. I know our plan, I was the one who made it.â
Itâs a weel made plan. Alexia had spent weeks getting everything in line for this moment. You were both going to take at least a week away from football, two weeks if need be. Alexia would return after the rest period, to training until she felt like she was in a place to be back on the pitch. Youâd come in with her on the good days, meet with the team doctors and work through whatever exercise that was allowed whilst also just reintegrating into the team. If it all went to plan youâd make your way back into team training at the six week mark, and if it all went to plan youâd be back playing around the eight week mark. For the first week, you would be on mostly bed rest. Alexia had already meal prepped your comfort foods and easy foods to digest for the first week, and she had no doubt that her teammates would drop some more food off. You would rest, allow yourself some grace to recover from what you were going through. Alexia would make sure of it. She didnât know what youâre previous recoveries from your surgeries looked like, you hardly shared any details about your past with endometriosis but what she could gauge it musnât of been a positive experience. She was determined to change that though.
âYouâve got nothing to be scared about Ale, Iâm going to be fine. I canât guarantee how happy Iâm going to be once this is over but Iâll be okay. Iâve been here, Iâve done this before, itâs the same as every other time.â
Alexia doesnât think sheâs seen anybody go into surgery so casually, as if this is truly just another surgery for you, as if there is no magnitude behind what is about to occur.
âI know bebita, I know.â
Alexia reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze before bringing it up to her mouth and pressing a soft kiss to it. Her lips linger for a second, it feels good to know that you are here with her.
âMs Putellas, itâs time to take her.â
Alexia looked up to the doorway, where one of your nurses was waiting.
She didnât want to say goodbye to you, she didnât want the waiting to start.
Alexia stands up, moving her lips from your hand and pressing them to your hairline, breathing in everything about you. The smell of your shampoo that sheâd massaged into your hair this morning, the smell of your body soap, the warmth of your skin. It was all you, the you that Alexia knew, the you that Alexia loved so much. She had so many hidden insecurities, but her biggest one was that deep down this surgery was going to somehow change you, and when you came back different to how you currently would, you wouldnât want her anymore.
There was no explanation, but it didnât change what Alexia had come to believe.
âAlexia, I love you, I am going to be fine, I will see you in a couple of hours.â
Alexia didnât know it, but you had your own insecurities. Youâd never had anybody, friends, family, partners that had stuck by your side through all of your issues. Who was interested in a person who was completely broken from the inside? Why would Alexia want to stick around for all the troubles. It wasnât easy looking after a person with a chronic disease, even with her limited amount of time dating you sheâd hardly experienced the real struggle. Sure, sheâd seen you on your period, but that didnât compare to a lifetime of struggles.
Alexia had advocated for you, with the team, with the physios, with the coaches, with your doctors. But was she prepared to do that for the rest of her life? Was she prepared to sacrifice her own health at certain times to prioritise yours? It was the ultimate sacrifice, and even though Alexia was genuinely the best person that youâd ever met, yet you wouldnât blame her for being unable to compensate for you.
âI know bebe, Iâll be waiting for you. I love you so much, itâs all going to be fine.â
Alexia pressed her lips to your forehead one final time, you didnât push her when she took her time. Alexiaâs lips shook against your skin, the quiver silent as she kept any emotion she had at bay. She needed to be strong, she needed to stay strong for you.
âMs Putellas, one of the nurses will take you to the waiting room, a doctor will come get you when sheâs done.â
Alexia finally pulled her lips away, it truly did feel like she was parting with you completely, like she was being pulled away from you completely.
The nurse reached for Alexiaâs hand and she shook it free.
You frowned at her, like she was making this so much harder, it made her feel bad, but she needed this, she needed a moment.
âI love you.â
You let up on your frown.
âI love you too.â
Alexia nodded, if there were tears in the corner of her eyes then she had no idea, her focus was on you, only ever you.
Only when she finally felt comforted, did she let the nurse lead her out.
The nurses took you down one end of the hallway, and she dragged herself in the opposite direction.
The waiting room was the same as any other, random stock pictures of scenery from somewhere around the world, chairs that were more uncomfortable then any other surface, bright white lights that were bound to remind Alexia exactly where she was.
It was all uniform, besides her mother sitting in the corner.
Eli looked the same as she always did, her lips sitting in a content smile. There were big lines all over her face from her smiling all the time, it was the reason why everybody gravitated towards her.
âMami.â
Alexia had known there was something slightly suspicious happening when her mother had been dodging her calls for the last few days. Sheâd assumed in typical fashion that whilst Alexia was looking after you, Eli would go into overdrive, cooking all the meals, helping Alexia. She hadnât quite expected this.
Alexia had kept the details about your surgery vague with her family, she didnât feel like it was her information to give away and also she wanted to keep some privacy. She knew it was going to be a tough period for you and also for herself.
âNo, before you say anything, I am staying.â
Alexia smirks, pushing back the words that had already been on the tip of her tongue.
âYou donât need to be here, I could be waiting for while. I can call you when sheâs done and you can come to see her.â
Alexia walks towards her mother, and she knows by the way that Eli is looking at her that sheâs not going to be able to convince her to leave. Alexiaâs stubbornness came straight from her mother.
âI will do no such thing. I shall wait here with you, Iâm here to support my daughter.â
Eli nudges Alexia into the seat beside her.
âIâm not the one having surgery Mami, I will be fine waiting on my own.â
Eli slaps Alexiaâs arm.
âEstupida. Tan estupida. When I was in hospital with your faher do you know how alone i felt? No, you will not be alone. Maria has gone to go and get coffee, we will all wait here together until sheâs done. Comprendida?â
The tears that were in Alexiaâs eyes a couple of minutes ago are back, the sick feeling of anxiety thatâs been in her stomach all week, especially today suddenly feels less all consuming.
âYou donât have to do this alone, there are people here for both of you. There is support for you.â
Alexia nods, and for the first time in a while she actually feels like she doesnât have to handle it all, like maybe she can off load some of the responsibilities that are making her chest ache with every breath she takes.
âThankyou.â
As the doctors had told Alexia, the first week is by far the worst.
Your surgery ends up going for a lot longer then expected. As the doctors had expected, it hadnât looked good, and it had spread to some of your organs. The positives were though that there hadnât been any complications and theyâd managed to remove all the affected tissue.
It had ended up being a day procedure and the doctors had cleared Alexia to take you home once youâd woken up and were eating and talking.
It had only gone downhill from there.
You were in a lot of pain, and pretty much delirious on the feeling of it and anaesthesia.
Getting you out of her car and into the house had been near impossible, carrying you was too uncomfortable for your incision, and walking was also impossible.
Eventually, with a mixture of limping, Alexia bearing all the weight for you and dragging you as carefully as she could she got you into your bed.
Alexia had set the house up so that when you were home everything would be easy, she hadnât organised though for you to be completely immobile.
She got you set up underneath the blankets, allowing you to rest whilst she worked on making a light meal for dinner.
When Alexia came back, you were running a fever.
It was a low grade fever, something the doctors had told her to expect but it made her feel uncomfortable.
A fever was the first sign of an infection, and you werenât awake enough to know what was going on. What if something bad was happening and she didnât know? What happened if she didnât catch it early enough? What if she was the reason that something bad happened?
Before Alexia could find the warning signs of slipping into her own brain she was falling deep into a fog of anxiety.
Alexia was the one who was responsible for making sure that you were okay. She thought that sheâd worked out every different variable and issue that could arise, sheâd promised you that sheâd be there for you after your surgery. If she couldnât help you with this though then was she really capable of dealing with all of it?
You stirred slightly as Alexia removed the thermometer from your lips, your eyes hazily opening up, looking at her with confusion.
âHugs.â
Itâs almost laughable the way that you whine at Alexia, the doctors had said that you would be pretty out of it for the first few days. Youâd told Alexia that in the past, the first two or three days after your surgeries tended to consist of mostly sleep and adjusting to the pain of your healing incisions. After they had healed it was all upwards from there.
âHow are you feeling? Do you want some more pain relief? Do you need some water? Food? Youâre not feeling nauseous or cold?â
You shook your head, your lips morphing into a soft smile as you took in Alexia, all flustered and clearly worked up.
âWant hugs.â
Alexia was guarded, she always was when she was focused on protecting people. You didnât want guarded Alexia. You wanted relaxed, homey, calm Alexia. The Alexia who would sit on the couch with you after a rough game and eat icecream, the Alexia who would silence her alarm on a morning workout day to stay in bed with you, the Alexia who just wanted to spend all of her time with you. You just wanted the Alexia that would put whatever you wanted above all else.
Alexia looks torn, really torn, like she knows that she should probably be caregiving in some way. She promised you though that sheâd let you guide her through your process, that she wouldnât try to control how you wanted to recover.
âOkay bebita, if thatâs what you want.â
Alexia slips to the wardrobe quickly, pulling off her sweats in favor for changing them in for some softer pyjamas. She doesnât know how long sheâs going to be in bed with you but she assumes itâs going to be long enough that sheâll want to be comfortable.
When she makes her way back into the bedroom youâre waiting patiently, like you know that if youâd fallen asleep whilst Alexia was gone she probably would have gone off to tackle some non-existent chore to make herself feel better. Alexia rolls her eyes at how well you know her more unobvious traits and tells.
Alexia, without trying to shift the mattress at all, pushes herself under the covers of your bed. Sheâd made sure to put down fresh sheets, so itâs comfier and snugglier then it normally is. When you realise that Alexia is going to make no attempt to shift within cuddling distance you pull your arms out from underneath the blankets. Everything is sore and accompanied with a tinge of pain that makes your head hurt. It sucks. You want your teddy bear of a girlfriend to hug it away.
Even though it hurts, you reach for the hem of her sleep shirt, tugging it towards you. There is no power to your movements but there is a general message. Alexia shuffles closer to you, but still far away enough that you definitely canât use any part of her body as a pillow. You donât know why it hits you then, you know youâve got a lot of built up emotions, and that hormonally there is so much going on in your body and the pain medication isnât making it any better. You donât know why, but all of a sudden the tears start to fall and you canât contain the sniffle that you make.
âBebita, whatâs wrong?â
Alexia shoots up, ready to take action in whatever way is needed.
âDo you even love me? What person wouldnât want to give their girlfriend a hug? I know I just had surgery and Iâm digusting and havenât showered and smell like hospital but can you not just give me a hug, is is that big of a ask?â
Alexia almost immediately recoils, the feeling that sets into her stomach is one of horror. Of course she wants to hug you. Of course she wants to love you, sheâs just scared to hurt you.
âBebita, no. Itâs not about any of that, I just donât want to hurt you bebe. I love you so much bebe, none of the surgery stuff bothers me, not in the slightest. I just donât want to hurt you.â
At this stage youâre sobbing hysterically and Alexia feels so horrible.
âI know you didnât want me to get the surgery, I know it was stupid but can you just hug me?â
Alexia genuinely does a double take when you say that, itâs a insecurity that you havenât expressed to her at all and she doesnât quite know what to make of it.
âBebe, of course I wanted you to have the surgery. I canât tell you whether or not it was a good decision for you, but for me it was a no brainer. Bebe, you were in so much pain, you were struggling so much and for me it was so hard to see you go through that. I donât know why youâd think that I wouldnât want you to get the surgery but I can tell you that any decision that makes you feel happier and healthier is always going to be the best decision. If this surgery makes you feel healthier and happier then why would it be stupid?â
You donât really know what you are thinking or why youâre suddenly thinking all of these things but you just feel so wrong all of a sudden.
âYou promise?â
Alexia smiles at you, finally leaning over into your personal space. She bring her hand up to yours and interlocks your pinky with hers.
âI pinky promise, now how about we work out that hugh that you want. I donât want to hurt you, so whatâs going to work best?â
Alexia reaches up to thumb away the tears that are still leaking down your face, you canât control the random emotions that are flurrying through your body like a tornado.
âThe doctor said I should sleep propped up, so I could lie with my back pressed to your front?â
Alexia figures that probably is the best way to approach this whole situation.
Itâs not easy getting you to sit up for long enough for Alexia to slip in behind you, but you both reap the reward when you get to relax against each other.
Even though youâre wrapped in Alexiaâs hoodie she swears that she can feel your bones relax against hers and even though she knows that you might be in pain she selfishly couldnât care less. For the first time since sheâd walked through the doors of the hospital this morning she finally feels like she can breathe, like she has you, like her inherent need to protect you from everything has finally been fulfilled.
Alexia worries about you more then anything else, when you get injured, when youâre sick, when youâre away from Alexia too long she worries. Her need to protect and care for you has only developed more over the course of your relationship, and when she found out about your endometriosis it doubled. Sheâs never worried much about anything besides football, and even when she worried about football it was never the same kind of worry, itâs more internalised stress about achieving what sheâs set out. For you, everything is irrational, none of it makes any functional sense, itâs ridiculous. And yet she kind of loves it, because she knows that it means itâs all real, that her love for you is so real and true that she worries irrationally because the thought that anything bad could ever happen to you she knows that it would break her in ways sheâs never been broken before. She saw it in here mami when here papi died, the way that she stopped being able to function in the absence of him, and god forbid anything similar happened to you Alexia knows sheâd be the same.
Thereâs this thing about recovery, about recovery from a non-injury that makes your skin crawl. Youâre not a good person to be around when youâre struggling, itâs the half the reason youâd kept your reproductive issues from Alexia, because it all made you grumpy and tired and borderline and fucking bitch. There was a pattern of shutdowns, emotional, physical, mental, every single time you had a slip or bad period. A surgery though, it was a whole different story.
By week two you felt pretty much back to normal, but as the doctors kept reminding you, you werenât. That was the problem with internal surgery, eventually the outside of your body returned to feeling normal, but the healing process on the inside took ten times longer. Your scars were healed, even the swelling had started to go down, the pain was minimal but you were still healing.
By week 4 you knew that you were toeing the line of being a bitch and being intolerable. You stomped your way around the halls of the training facilities, annoyed with your lack of progress and the fact that whilst all of your teammates were out on the pitch, you were stuck indoors under the air conditioning doing the exact same pelvic floor exercises that youâd been doing for two weeks. You were now allowed to run on the treadmill, instead of the slow walk that youâd been doing for the past few weeks. It all felt like nothing though, like you were being pulled through hell with no real picture of when you would be allowed to return.
Youâd known about all of this before your surgery, known that it was going to be a slow process. What you hadnât realised though was just how lonely that process was going to be, nobody understood what you were going through. At least with injury there was common ground, everyone on the team had been through some kind of back setting injury that had them in the gym more then on the pitch. Theyâd never been sidelined for something inside of them though, something that was going to keep coming back and keep hurting them over and over again.
Week 5 was when you broke. There wasnât any exact reason, maybe it was the way that Mapi continuously kept trying to get you to try some stupid gym challenge when she knew you werenât allowed to, maybe it was the way that Alexia kept coming home everyday complaining about how the defenders couldnât get their act together, or maybe it was just the overwhelming pressure that was starting to get to you.
All you know is that after a particularly hard day and Alexia groaning about the sprints theyâd run after every drill on the way to the car, it had been the final straw for you.
The minute your seatbelt was fastened there were tears pouring down your face.
When Alexia reached out you smacked her hands away.
âBebe, talk to me, are you in pain? What hurts?â
If you werenât busy crying youâd probably slap Alexia for the stupidity she was exhibiting.
âNo, no Iâm not fucking in pain. Iâm sick of you constantly fucking tell me about all of your problems and acting like I wouldnât die to be doing what youâre fucking doing. Iâm sick of everybody thinking that I can do everything that they are doing just because I look fine. I know I look fine, I know I seem fine, hell at this stage Iâm pretty sure I am fine. Iâm sick of feeling like Iâm back to normal and being told that Iâm fucking not, that I have to wait another week, that I canât do things that are so normal to my life.â
Once again when Alexia tries to give you a hug you deny her, wiggling out of her hold as soon as she tries.
âBebe, no recovery is linear or easy. Just because yours looks different to most peoples doesnât make it any less valid. You need to be more gracious to yourself, you are going to get back from this. Just because it isnât a normal process or what a recovery normally looks like for you doesnât mean that you are any less entitled to your process.â
You know that like everybody else, Alexia doesnât understand. Sure, sheâs injured herself, sheâs been through hell and back for her recovery. She doesnât understand though what you feel, the immense struggle that you are going through.
âNo Ale, you donât fucking understand. There was no point in your recovery where you werenât able to eat your favourite foods because your body didnât react well, there was no limiting you from sex, there was no limits on what the unaffected parts of your body could and couldnât do. There was no limits on how much time you could spend in certain positions or limits on whether or not you could fucking vaccum or carry something heavier then 5 kilos. You donât understand, I have nothing to look forward to, iâm going fucking crazy watching everybody do things daily with ease that I canât fucking do. My fucking body hates me, it betrays me everyday. And I canât change that, I canât do anything about that.â
Alexia forces herself to take a deep breath, to truly consider what youâre saying. She doesnât want to invalidate you, not even remotely, she knows how easy it is for people like you to be invalidated because of your disease. She has no idea what you are going through, she canât even begin to understand, and yet sheâs been trying to. Sheâs been trying to empathise with what youâve been feeling, sheâs tried her hardest to force her feet into your shoes but the reality is that she will never be able to. Nothing is going to make her understand the magnitude of what you are going through, and she thinks that she needs to stop pretending that she does.
âYouâre right bebita, youâre right. Iâm so sorry, just tell me what you need, whatever you need and I will help you. I will try my hardest to do whatever it is you need. Just take some deep breaths with me, vale? Itâs okay, the world isnât going to end right here and right now, it might feel like it but I promise it wonât. These are fixable problems, we can fix this, maybe not right now which sucks but eventually this will all be fixable.â
This time when Alexia moves to hug you, you donât flinch away. For the first fucking time in five weeks you be slightly heard, less alone and isolated.
You sob into Alexiaâs neck, not caring that itâs making her neck wet and also your face. It feels good to let it all out, like all of the weight, all the words from your psychologist, from the doctors, from the physios, from your teammates, from the coaches, from Ale are slowly becoming background noise. All you want is for it to be background noise, for it to all disappear.
âWeâre going to be okay bebe, youâre going to be okay, weâre going to work this out.â
Alexia doesnât really believe her own words, she doesnât know if everything is going to be okay, not remotely. She doesnât know how to help you, after you became self-reliant after week 2 her job as your caregiver was pretty much nonexistent, but that didnât mean that you didnât still need help. It was all confusing, a back and forwards dance that didnât really make any sense really. Whether Alexia had realised it or not though, sheâd assumed that you were happy to do it alone, inadvertently. She was giving you your space to recover how you wished, even though it was clear that wasnât necessarily how you wanted to go about your rehab.
When your cries softened Alexia let go a little bit, so she could look at you.
âHow can I help bebita? Tell me what I need to do and I will do everything I can.â
Your eyes are all glassy and full of tears, it makes the hole of guilt in Alexiaâs heart even bigger.
âI just want to play.â
Alexia furrows her face, because of all the things she can do, that isnât one. She canât clear you to play and she wonât condone you rushing your rehab to get back. She wants you to play, do desperately, but only when youâre at full health.
âI can help you with your rehab, bebita you can be cleared from the six week mark onwards, if you work really hard this week there is a chance you could be back in training next week. But you canât rush yourself, I know you want to be back on the pitch, I want you back on the pitch. But you need to be ready, and right now you arenât.â
Alexia thinks it might be a little bit too brutal, but the way you nod at her with real determination tells her that sheâs said the right things, sheâs supporting what you need whilst also being honest.
âI canât get you back on the pitch but how about icecream, huh?â
You look like you might start crying again but after a few seconds you roll your eyes in the same way that you would to Alexia on any other day.
âItâs a wednesday, your cheat day is Mondays.â
Alexia shrugs, because cheat days aside, sheâd break any and every rule just to see a smile on your face.
âWell last time I checked everyday is a icecream day, especially on wednesdays.â
Alexiaâs goofy smile never leaves her face. Itâs clear on your face though that youâre still worrying.
âBebita, you canât do anything about this. You just keep doing what youâre doing, even though it sucks and we wait until your six week appointment and hopefully you get good news. The doctors said if everything went how it should then next week should be when things start to pick up, you just have to trust the process bebe and itâll all work out. Until it all works out, we have icecream, no?â
Your barriers break and for the first time since youâd sat down in the car you smiled at Alexia.
âYes, we do have ice cream.â
Alexia had been forbidden from coming to your six week appointment, you wanted to do it alone, wanted to face whatever news you were given on your own and she respected that.
It didnât make it any easier.
In the space of around an hour she had reorganised her wardrobe and then reorganised it again because she couldnât handle not having certain things in certain places. She then moved on to folding all of the laundry, making sure her kit bag had everything that was necessary for the away game coming up and then out of pure desperation she moved on to cleaning all of the dishes.
Sheâd seen the way that the last week in particular had drained you, how everyday had been even more of a struggle. For the first few weeks, there had been moments of intimacy, moments of love and softness. All Alexia wanted was that back, she wanted to be able to love you and have you reciprocate it without withdrawing. She just wanted some part of you back.
When she heard your keys turning in the door, she tried her hardest to look normal, perched on the kitchen bench like a kid waiting for their parents to come home from work.
She listens to the sound of the door clicking open and shut, then the sound of shoes scuffing off, a bag being dropped and then your footsteps. Alexiaâs heart beats faster and faster as she listens to you slowly get closer to her.
Sheâs rewarded when she finally sees you, and youâre not crying and donât look like your about to punch something so she thinks there must be some kind of good news on the horizon.
When you spot Alexia clearly waiting for you, you almost laugh, she looks like sheâs trying so hard to not ask you what she clearly wants to. She looks almost antsy.
âHi.â
You keep walking, closer and closer, until your standing in between her legs and looking up at her from her spot sat on the counter.
Before she asks a question, you lean in, you need it. You need to feel Alexia in a way thatâs been forbidden for far to long.
The kiss is breath taking, not to rough, not to over bearing. Itâs just enough of everything that you feel like youâve been missing out on. It makes everything better.
Alexia lets you take control, it feels good to not be out of control with everything thatâs been happening.
Eventually though, when your hands move from her neck to the hem of her shirt, she pulls away.
âBebe, I love you, but if you havenât been cleared we should stop here.â
You roll your eyes and fish your hand into you back pocket, pulling out a folded up slip of paper.
âI think youâll find that you have a girlfriend who has been cleared to return to all activities except games until Iâve gotten sufficient training hours, Iâve got the green light amor.â
Alexia pulls the paper from your hand, her eyes scanning every single word of the clearance form your doctor, making sure that youâre telling the truth. When she gets to the bottom, her face lights up and before you can say anything sheâs standing up and lifting you in her arms.
âAlexia, put me down.â
You giggle as she balances you on her hip as if you are much smaller then you truly are, already walking towards your bedroom.
âI think itâs time to show my beautiful, patient, hardworking girlfriend just how much i love her, unless you disagree?â
You have no objections.
Alexia drops you down on the bedding as softly as possible, a big cheshire grin plastered across her face, like a huntress whose found her prey.
She joins you on the mattress, crawling up your body and kissing different places as she goes.
When she getâs to your head she presses her lips to yours, there isnât any inhibitions or barriers, she kisses you like a person whose been so deprived of something that theyâre craving it, like sheâs greedy for you. Alexia moves her lips everywhere, your neck, your collarbones, as low as she can get until your tank top stops her and when she wants more, she gently tugs the top off.
Alexia worships your skin like itâs holy, she kisses and sucks and bites until your sweating and so worked up that you canât think. When it starts to get to you, she unclips your bra, and thatâs a whole other level of worshipping every inch of breast and then your nipples.
Itâs glorious, 6 weeks of celibacy had been hell. Technically this would have been okay, but neither of you trusted yourselves to get to this stage and not go further.
So being here, being at this level of pure ecstasy and pleasure was everything youâd wanted and it made all of the tough moments feel so much smaller.
After she was sufficiently happy with her worship of your upperbody, she began her campaign downwards, spending time on your ribcage and stomach before spending extra time showering your incision with soft kisses.
It was something sheâd done regularly since the bandages had come off, everytime you stared in the mirror for two long, or complained about how ugly it looked she would spend at least half an hour reminding you just how perfect your body was with certain scars. Those scars were proof that you were healthy and taking care of yourself and for Alexia that mattered far more.
From your incision it was down to the band of your leggings, which after a quick glance up to check you were still happy, she slowly peeled off.
âAlexia, enough teasing.â
Alexia pressed open mouthed kisses all along the outline of your panties.
âIâve been away from your body for so long bebita, Iâm just reintroducing myself.â
You rolled your eyes at the blonde, and were about to say something bratty but were stopped when she moved her open mouth a bit further down, just above your mound.
Instead of a bratty retort Alexiaâs ears were met with the glorious sounds of little moans slipping from your lips as she teased you.
When you started bucking up into her, Alexia made the executive decision to move things ahead a bit quicker then she intended, after all she had plenty of time to do this, over and over again.
âYouâll tell me if anything hurts, si? If anything feels wrong say something, weâll just stick to my mouth for now and work our way back up.â
You nodded at her, even when you felt good sex could be painful, it was a weird back and forth of you feeling good and then all of a sudden feeling bad. All you craved right now though was sweet release.
âWant to taste you bebita, god I missed tasting you.â
You swear your legs go numb and you almost orgasm just from her words.
âIt might be quick, itâs been a long time Ale and Iâm sensitive.â
Alexia smiled at you, kind and genuine like she had all of the time in the world.
âJust feel it however you need to, if itâs fast then itâs fast, whatever you feel just take it.â
You nod at your girlfriend before relaxing against the pillows on your bed, allowing Alexia to pull one of your knees above her shoulder.
The feeling of her mouth on you is truly the best feeling in the world, you donât care how loud you are because the fulfillment you are getting has been so hard worked for that you canât help but just enjoy it.
Alexia licks and sucks in all of your most sensitive places, places that have been untouched for so long that youâd almost forgotten just how good it could feel. When she pulls your clit into her mouth you see stars and you know that you arenât going to last long at all, you gather Alexia can tell from the way that your octave heightens.
âAle-Ale Iâm going to cum.â
You can feel Alexia smirk against you.
Even though she knows that sheâs able to satisfy you, there is nothing better then actually doing it.
âGo ahead bebe, Iâm right here, youâve been so good and patient. You deserve it, if you feel it just let go.â
You nod your head, biting down on your lip as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, there is no hesitation from your edge, when she grazes her teeth against your clit you are well and truly gone.
Normally, youâd last more then one round, or youâd reciprocate at the least but before you can even try Alexia has you bundled up in her arms, pressing kisses all over your face.
You squeal and flinch but she doesnât stop, not until your face is all red and your both relaxed against your pillows.
âYou know how proud I am of you? Youâve been so good this whole process bebita, so perfect, so hardworking, so determined. Youâve pushed through it all, and youâre going to keep doing ti because your the toughest person I know, truly. I love you so much amor.â
You know that for the rest of your life, Alexia will take care of you, like nobody else. Underneath the surface she cares for you more than anybody else ever had and ever will.
#woso#sammykworshipper thoughts#woso community#barca femeni#alexia putellas smuttt#alexia putellas fic#alexia x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#soft alexia has my heart#woso fic#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso fanfics#woso smut#sammykworshipperfics#alexia putellas angst#angst if you squint#smut if you squint
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HOUSE CALLS.
Professor!Terrence x Aaliyah
Summary: Aaliyh has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadnât imagined would ever happen.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student.
Part One.
The combined elements of dark wood and a silver-painted metallic finish gave his desk an exquisite appearance within the lecture hall. The theaterâlike room was cloaked in silence and a gloomy ambiance from the constant downpour of rain. The occasional clearing of throats or shuffling of papers could be heard, but everyone clung on to his words as he leaned casually against his desk.
He was situated in front of the class, one hand reclined back to brace himself, while the other held a book within his grasp by its withering spine. He crossed his feet at the ankles, rounded, goldârimmed specs hanging onto the bridge of his nose. His full lips moved in tandem with his educated words, blueâgrey eyes flicking from the passage he was reading to the class of over thirty students before him.
ââŚBrain size in mammals is generally proportional to body size. Relative to body mass, humans have the largest brain. The chimpanzee brain has an approximate volume of 300 cm3; a gorillaâs is slightly larger. The human adult brain is more than three times larger, typically between 1,300 cm3 and 1,400 cm3. The brain is not only larger in humans than in apes but also much more complex. The cerebral cortex, where the higher cognitive functions are processed, is in humans proportionally much greater than the rest of the brain when compared with apesâŚâ
He articulated his words fluently, deep baritone drawing you in like a breath of fresh air.
Aaliyah scribbled across her notepad with her iPad propped up in front of her, occasionally highlighting passages from the same book sheâd downloaded. She had one too many books creating an almost mountainous pile within her bedroom. Thank goodness this was her last semester. Sheâd put off taking this combined Ethics and Psychology course, realizing she needed it to graduate.
The magnetic allure of her gaze blinked away from the Professor, the end of her red, ink pen situated between her heartâshaped lips. Her upturned eyes followed the movement of the Professor licking his thumb to turn a page. She crossed one shapely thigh over the other, the thick material of the navy blue sweats she wore cozy. Her small foot covered in old Vans bounced slightly, a habit she couldnât control.
ââŚHumans live in groups that are socially organized, and so do other primates. But primate societies do not approach the complexity of human social organization. A distinctive human social trait is culture, which may be understood here as the set of non-strictly biological human activities and creations. Culture in this sense includes social and political institutions, ways of doing things, religious and ethical traditions, language, common sense and scientific knowledge, art and literature, technology, and in general all of the creations of the human mind. Culture âis a pool of technological and social innovations that people accumulate to help them live their livesâŚâ
His patience, communication, and passion helped her pay attention, even though she couldnât help but to fantasize and escape to a place where she could dream. It was the intuitive feeling within her. Beyond her squared, black frames, she found herself memorizing the shape of his elongated fingers cupping the book. The way he talked with his hands. So expressive. Voice so even toned and soft at times. She couldnât be the only one captivated by her handsome Professor.
âI know itâs nearing time for us to leave,â He strolled lazily towards one of the large windows, âItâs really coming down out there. WellâŚwhy donât we pick back up on Friday? Make sure you all submit your midterm papers. Iâve extended the due dateâŚâ
The class began to gather their things. Aaliyah didnât make a fuss to leave just yet. From the Professorâs view, he peeked up at her from behind his desk, still sitting in her seat, chewing on her pouty, bottom lip with so much focus on her IPad. He didnât bother her, taking that time to check his curriculum. Aaliyahâs silent presence didnât bother him. So why bother her?
After thirty minutes, she stood, stretching her arms that were drowning in an oversized, graphic hoodie. Her silk pressed hair was styled in a low bun and mediumâsized silver hoops decorated her ears. She threw her school bag over her shoulder and slipped from behind her desk, leaving the room. Before she reached the door, she turned back and caught the hypnotic eyes of her Professor. She gave him a silent wave and he returned the gesture with a small smile, watching her disappear from his eyes.
He couldnât shake the twinge of sadness in her leaving.
ââ
As Friday rolled around, Aaliyah found herself running late for class. It was her own fault. Sheâd started a side hustle that earned her more money than what sheâd gotten paid working remote for Verizon. It required a lot of her time, and sheâd become so obsessed with it that her sleep schedule changed. Dressed in a pair of heatherâgray leggings with a matching oversized, slouchy sweatshirt, Aaliyah opened the door to the lecture hall, quickly finding herself scurrying to her usual seat in the middle of the Professorâs speech.
âExcuse meâŚsorryâŚâ
Aaliyah squeezed into her seat and hastily worked to fall in line, cursing herself internally. Her sleek hair framed her face as she buried herself into her work.
âAaliyah?â
Her eyes held slight bags beneath them. They connected through her lenses at the Professor. She could feel eyes on her in other parts of the room as well.
âIs everything okay?â He questioned with concern.
âYes, Professor Richmond. I had a late start todayâŚâ
âOkayâŚdo you know where we are or do you need me to fill you in?â
A faint smile graced her shimmering lips.
âI know where we are. Thank you.â
Professor Richmond nodded his head slightly before turning his attention back to the whiteboard. Aaliyah swooped some of her long hair back from her face and behind her ear, reaching for her Stanley cup to quench her thirst.
In the middle of lecture, Aaliyahâs phone vibrated within the front pocket of her school bag. She groaned slightly, distracted by the noise while jotting down notes. After a while she couldnât ignore it. Professor Terry caught sight of her reaching for her phone, and he took note of the stress lining her pretty face.
Meanwhile, Aaliyahâs eyes scanned two texts from a friend and former coworker of hers, asking if she was free to meet up after class. Aaliyah had an inclination of what it was about, but ultimately she agreed to meet up for lunch. After settling that distraction, she pulled herself back into her work, not aware of Professor Richmondâs eyes on her.
âClass dismissed. See you all on WednesdayâŚâ
And as expected, Aaliyah held her spot. Professor Richmond had his back facing her while using an Expo eraser to clear the board. He wore a black sweater that molded into his sinewy upper body in all the right places. The black slacks he wore to match accentuated his ass and strapping thighs.
After recapping the marker, he gave Aaliyah a onceâover. He studied her for another minute before placing his hands within the pockets of his slacks, making his way towards her. Aaliyah looked up at him, her posture straightening. He settled next to her, a soft smile on his face. Aaliyah waited for him to say something, an arched brow raised in question.
It just dawned on her that sheâd never been this close to him.
Professor Richmond was thinking the same thing.
âHow are your studies coming along?â
The deep vibrato of his voice was so smooth she found herself smirking. Aaliyah blinked away from his overwhelmingly handsome face, trying her best to focus on the text before her instead of the man that occupied her space with a fragrance so utterly charismatic with a blend of basil notes, bewitching lavender, and sandalwood accords.
âAs well as it can to pass this class, Professor.â She responded.
The sound of her melodic voice, the way it lulled him into a trance. He couldnât shake it. His long fingers drummed against the desk, the ability to control the urge to catch a moreâŚinvading whiff of her sweet perfume paining him. And was thatâŚa tongue ring?
He had the biggest crush on Aaliyah.
âYou sound put out. I hope that paper is coming along.â
Aaliyah cut her tantalizing eyes at him and those sinful lips parted to speak, âIâm finished. Mostly. Just need to do a bit of editing.â
âGoodâŚgood. Hey,â Professor Richmond leaned in closer, removing his glasses, âCan I ask you a question?â
Aaliyah focused on him with a steady gaze. Never wavering. She turned her curvy body in her chair to face him fully. Professor Richmondâs blueâgray eyes did a quick sweep of her frame.
âDepends on the questionâŚthen Iâll determine if it warrants a responseâŚâ
Sassy.
âHa, okay,â Professor Richmond exhaled, âI would like to take you to lunch sometime. Away from campusâŚmy treat.â
He pressed his large hand against his solid chest and tilted his head at her. Aaliyah blinked at him slowly.
âToday if youâre freeâŚhow does that sound?â
Aaliyah twisted her lips to fight a smile. It didnât work however. That smile of hers broke through and it was beautiful. It was one of those smiles that captivated you. So sexy. Oh so sexy.
She was justâŚsexy.
âI canât,â Aaliyah turned away, her hair sweeping her back, âIâm meeting a friend for lunch alreadyâŚâ
Professor Richmondâs thick brows flicked up and he groaned softly. He was hoping for a yes.
âThenâŚwe can plan a lunch next week?â He persisted.
Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled softly. It was a sight to behold. He wasnât going to back down.
âNext weekâŚhmmâŚmaybe. I have a lot going on.â
Her dismissive tone didnât stop him. Maybe it was because he was her Professor. She probably didnât want to get caught up in that. Probably didnât have time for that mess. A beautiful woman such as herself probably gets approached every damn day by men. What makes him any different?
âWhenever youâre free then,â Professor Richmond widened his thighs to appear more relaxed, âI hope Iâm not being too forwardâŚâ
Aaliyah trailed her eyes from his thighs to his face. He caught that. He knew she found him attractive. He knew his potential. Felt her eyes on him plenty of times.
âIâm not looking for anything right now. I appreciate the gesture though,â Aaliyah turned those beautiful eyes away, âIâm sorry.â
Professor Richmond looked away from her, trying his best to hide his disappointment. He clenched his sculpted jaw, accepting defeat. A slight smile graced his lips as he stood, fixing the hem of his sweater.
Better luck next time. And there will be a next time.
âIâll leave you to it then, AaliyahâŚenjoy the rest of your day, beautiful.â
The way he called her beautifulâŚthe bounce of her foot stilled.
âYou do the same, Professor,â She replied, eyes never leaving her iPad, although a smirk graced her succulent lips.
He paused in his descend, turning to look at her over his shoulder. Her eyes connected with his again, dark brown meeting bluishâgrey. The way her hip sat, jutted out from her thigh crossed over the other. She was doing things to his psyche. Her feet in flat, black sandals. Those pretty toes. That beautiful hair. It was all too consuming.
âIâm Terry by the way.â
He felt he needed her to know him on a first named basis. Aaliyah blinked at him with those curled lashes. She smiled again, smaller this time, but it still held a seductive quality.
âI know.â She responded impertinently.
He shook his head and released a soft chuckle. Sassy indeed.
Terry returned to his desk, gathering his things. He shut his laptop and the sound of Aaliyah walking down the steps towards the exit brought his attention back. Although she always wore loosely fitting tops and occasionally bottoms, the sway of her hips didnât go unnoticed. No matter how hard she tried to cover it all up. He knew she was shielding a body beneath those layers.
Her dainty hand grasped the handle to the door. Aaliyah glanced over her shoulder at him one final time. Terry waited, hands finding its way into his pockets.
âIâll see you Wednesday, Professor.â
A slow, half smirk crept up his face.
âSame as well, Miss Aaliyah. Enjoy your weekend.â
She waved goodbye with a flutter of her fingers in a flirty manner before leaving him alone to his thoughts.
He couldnât shake the feeling that she was taunting him.
ââ
Aaliyah climbed the short, concrete steps leading her inside Elsieâs Plate and Pie. Home to legendary pies and authentic taste in Baton Rouge. It wasnât far from her Shotgun House. She removed her shades, spotting her friend, Keisha, sitting near a window. Keisha is a tall, thick woman. Her hazel eyes ignited when she spotted Aaliyah, one hand with long, red acrylic nails waving her over. Aaliyah scooted past a crowded table, holding her arms out to accept a hug from her longtime friend.
They did the squeeze and sway motion, big smiles on their faces.
âYâat?! Girl itâs been forever. Baby, you look fucking good. Howâs school and shit?â Keisha questioned boisterously.
âItâs going, girl. Almost done. You?â
âStill doing my thing at Crazy Horse. We miss you there,â Keisha gave Aaliyah sad eyes and a pout.
âYou know I miss yaâll too,â Aaliyah grabbed her glass of water, opening a straw, âWhat you finna get?â
âI donât knowâŚâ
They scanned the menu, both settling on crawfish queso as a starter when their waiter sauntered over.
âBrittany still sleeping with Mack?â Aaliyah asked while sipping from her straw.
âGirlâŚâ Keisha rolled her eyes, âHe still breaking that down. She ainât hopping off that dickâŚâ
âUgh,â Aaliyah scrunched her face up in disgust, âMack though? Thatâs why I had to go. How do you do it? That nigga irks me.â
Keisha laughed, âI have my ways. I do what I gotta do to survive.â
Their appetizer arrived. Aaliyah didnât hesitate to dig in. She was starving. The turkey bacon, fried eggs, and croissant breakfast she had earlier didnât stick to her stomach.
âLiâLi, I wanna know if youâd be down for this new thang I got goinâ on.â
And here it comesâŚ
âKeishaâŚâ Aaliyah rolled her eyes.
âYouâll love it. Trust me.â
âI want to, but then Iâm likeâŚKeisha a wild girl. Whatever it is, I know it ainât simple.â
They both laughed.
âLet me fill you in, bitch!â
âGo âhead,â Aaliyah cackled, âIâm waiting.â
âAwrite, soâŚWe both know working at Crazy Horse ainât shit. Half the money we earned went to Mack assâŚâ
âTrueâŚâ
âSo, I do this side gig. House calls.â
Aaliyah have a half shrug before crossing one leg over the other beneath the table, âOkay?â
âAnddddâŚI want you to join me.â
Before Aaliyah could respond, they placed their orders. Seafood pot pies.
âKeisha, I got this online content thing lined up and itâs hittinâ off. I made 350 dollars in one night,â Aaliyah scooped up the last bit of dip.
âWhatâs 350 to two grand?â
Aaliyah snorted, âTwo grand? Serious?â
She sat up straighter in her seat. Aaliyah inclined her head towards Keisha for her to continue. That two grand sounded promisingâŚ
âTell me what you do for these house calls.â
âIt depends. It could be an all woman thangâŚa little toy party situationâŚmost of the time itâs bachelor parties and believe it or not, men in uniformâŚâ
âMen in uniform?â Aaliyah gawked at Keisha, âLike, military men?â
âMilitary men, policemenâŚtomorrow itâs firefighters. They pay good money for you to show up and perform. You donât gotta go further than that unless you want to. Thatâs where the real bandz come from.â
Aaliyah let Keishaâs words sink in while she swirled the ice in her glass around with her straw. Aaliyah couldnât deny that she missed dancing on the pole. It was exciting. Made her feel sexy. The best full body workout. She often craved the neon colors against her skin beneath the black lights. Her gravity-defying moves around the dance pole, sky-high heels and perfect hair, it was nothing short of magical.
Part acrobat, part athlete, part artist.
âI can see the wheels in your head turningâŚsounds good, huh?â Keisha asked with a knowing grin.
Aaliyah hummed, her eyes scanning Keishaâs face, âAlmost too goodâŚâ
âLike I said, tomorrow night I have a gig at the fire house. I was bringing this other girl, she go by Diamond. She was coolâŚbut I feel like me and you are a dynamic duo. Miss Dark AngelâŚâ
Excitement tickled her nerves.
âSo? You wanna go?â
ââŚI donât know, KeishaâŚâ
Aaliyah hung her head, deep in thought. She crossed her arms over her chest, breasts sitting up invitingly.
âJustâŚthink it over tonight. Hit me up and let me know.â
Aaliyah dragged her tongue over her upper teeth. Keisha giggled at her, causing Aaliyah to snap out of her deep thoughts. She only had tonight to decide. Stripping was such a hard hustle for her. She had just found her niche. But, if what Keisha was saying is true, she could make the most money sheâd ever made as an exotic dancer. TemptingâŚ
Their food arrived and they fell into gossip, laughing about wild shit, falling into their usual routine. Aaliyah finished her entire pot pie while Keisha packed hers to go.
âWe gotta do this more often, LiâLi,â Keisha slapped some money down, paying the tab, âYou got your nose in âdem books! Youâve always been so smartâŚIâm proud of you.â
âThanks, Keisha. We definitely have to link more. This last semester is kicking my ass. Itâll all pay off.â
âSeeing anybody?â
âFuck no,â Aaliyahâs shoulders bounced with her laughter, âMy professor did ask me on a lunch date todayâŚâ
âOh?â Keishaâs eyes widened with interest, âDo tell.â
âNothing to tell,â Aaliyah replied, âHeâs very handsome. SweetâŚIâm not tryna get tangled in that. I know how that can goâŚâ
âI hear ya. Best to keep focused. Men come and go, girl. I ainât got time either.â
They both stood, walking out together. Aaliyah had parked her Jeep behind Keishaâs all black Hellcat. They hugged again, giving each other a kiss on the cheek.
âLet me know!â Keisha shouted at Aaliyahâs retreating frame.
âI will!â
She waved goodbye, climbing into her Jeep and revving it up.
ââ
Aaliyah moved across her cramped kitchen with a swiftness, standing in her naked glory, body mimicking a glazed delight with how shiny and glistening her honey skin looked beneath the lights. Sheâd just finished filming some content, nothing too wild, just twerking and nasty talk.
âDonât forget to tip, babyâŚâ
âYou gonna pay my tuition just to kiss me on this wet ass pussy, daddy?â
âI need some company, canât stand looking edible aloneâŚâ
She used her same stage name. Liyah Allure. The Dark Angel. She used a video shot from a long angle, the white wall as her back drop. Lil WayneâShe Will instrumental playing in the background. Her sleek hair fell down her back and she would turn her head ever so slightly, giving teasing glances up and down while making that ass bounce and clap. She could move it with little no effort. Her hands glided over her sultry body, showing her viewers just how edible she is. And they wanted to take a bite.
Aaliyah racked up five hundred dollars. Fridayâs were Freaky Friday. She showed more skin. You had to pay extra for a pussy shot. Aaliyah took pictures and videos for that as well. She spent a pretty penny on equipment. An elongated tripod held her camera in many angles. Her favorite shot was always from behind with her juicy thighs spread and shaking that big ass. Her wet, hairless pussy popped in the camera white those siren eyes looked back at it.
It was time for a bath. She wanted to spend the rest of her evening finishing up editing for her paper before submitting to Professor Richmond. Her Ethics and Psychology Professor. Aaliyah blew steam that wafted from her ceramic coffee mug as her slipperâclad feet shuffled towards her room. Placing the mug on her side table, she made her way towards her dresser and began wrapping her hair. She hated doing it, but she wanted a straighter look this time around so pin curling it wouldnât work.
After securing her hair with three silk scarves to ensure she didnât sweat it out, Aaliyah grabbed her mug and headed to her bathroom. Sheâd already prepared the bath with her bubble bath and essential oils. She loved using lavender and vanilla. There is a rack across her tub that she could place a book or even a drink on while enjoying her bath. The glow of the candles created a beautiful and relaxing environment.
Aaliyah listened to her Neo Soul playlist while reclining her head back and resting her eyes. She had her timer set for thirty minutes, making sure she didnât fall asleep in her tub for longer than that like sheâd done many times before. Her head went limp on its side, the tiredness of her body finally succumbing to sleep. As she slept, the eyes of her Professor appeared.
Intense. His gaze is intense.
Itâs also attentive. By now, she was sure heâd memorized every subtle detail of her face. Images from earlier appeared. She took note of the way he leaned in towards her, like he wanted to smell her perfume. Juicy Rose, Black Cherry Liquor, Moss Accord. He wanted to be swept up in it. The tops of her breasts peeking through the soapy surface moved up and down with her sleeping breath.
For a while, Aaliyah caught on to the Professor checking her out. It wasnât obvious to her at first, but she caught on to how he would position himself directly in front of his desk, exactly within her line of vision. If he focused forward, she would meet his gaze straight away. He made it a point to allow those striking eyes to linger on her for a beat longer. Sheâd walk out of that classroom on Wednesdays and Fridays knowing he was watching her. Sheâd caught him staring at her ass through the reflective glass of the lecture hall door.
She honestly hadnât expected him to approach her. For a while, heâd just admired from afar. Most men do. The boldest a man ever got with Aaliyah was when sheâd worked at Crazy Horse. Plenty of men there would ask her out. Sheâd even received flowers and gifts. At one point she had a stalker. Professor Richmond; Terry was different. Sheâd read many smutty stories about forbidden flings with a Professor. Sheâd save her fantasies for that.
Ding Ding Ding
Aaliyahâs eyes snapped open and with a long yawn she stopped the timer on her phone. She reached out for her mug and gulped down the warm tea. It should help put her to sleep. After bathing, she did all her necessary nightly routines before slipping on an oversized T-shirt that dangled from one shoulder. Aaliyah put on YouTube for background noise while opening her laptop to finish editing. Her eyes took note of the time.
11:30 pm.
She pushed her laptop forward and positioned herself onto her stomach, moving her hips from side to side and absentmindedly swinging her legs. Why couldnât she shake the Professor from her mind?
Sent!
One assignment down, more to go.
Curiosity got the best of her. She started doing some digging. Aaliyah took to social media to find him. It wasnât hard. She studied his LinkedIn.
PhD in Psychology. Fluent in French. Ex Marine.
From her place in class, he appeared shorter. Today however, when he walked up to her, he was massive. The same smirk he held in the picture she was currently staring at is the same he gave her before taking a seat.
Her body hummed with desire. This man is FIONE.
It wasnât just the eyes. His entire face was justâŚ
Aaliyah went down a rabbit hole of stalking. She found his Facebook and his Instagram both accounts were private, and she wasnât about to follow him. That was a big noâno. This man could be hiding a wife. He could have kids. He could be crazy. All three of which she experienced with previous men. Aaliyah stopped herself before she could even go further.
But those lipsâŚhis voiceâŚthat bodyâŚ
She wanted to see itâŚ
Buzz Buzz
âKeishaâŚshit.â
Keisha: đđ
Fuck it. She already had her mind made up earlier. If she could leave that gig tomorrow night with two grand or moreâŚshe wasnât going to pass up on that.
Aaliyah: Iâm in đ
Now, it was just a matter of figuring out what she was going to wear.
ââ
âWhy is it so cold out hereâŚâ
Aaliyah followed closely behind Keisha inside of the Fire Station. She could hear the distant voices of the riled up men below. They entered a locker room, the lingering smell of smoke wafting from uniforms that hung from compartments burning her nose. Aaliyah cast wary eyes around her, making sure it was safe to take off her black, body con dress.
Keisha didnât waste time stripping down to her very revealing monokini. The thin straps failed to hide her wide, brown areolas. That ass was rotund and sitting up like a shelf. You could sit a cup on that ass. Keisha wore her hair in two space buns with bangs. Her deep brown skin shimmered with goldâtinted body glow. The eightâinch heels on her feet made her six feet tall.
âTheyâre already in rare form and we ainât even get started yet.â Keisha spoke with excitement.
âHow many we expecting?â Aaliyah asked.
âAbout twenty. Why? You nervous?â
âNo. I just want to know what Iâm walking into.â
Aaliyah slipped out of her dress, the Wonder Woman twoâpiece she wore making her look edible. She wore gold sixâinch pleasure heels to match. The low ambience of the locker room made the glitter on her skin stand out. She did a slow turn, Keisha nodding her head in approval.
âLooking real good. Theyâre gonna love you. Tip you off real good, bitch.â
âThey better,â Aaliyah flashed Keisha a lustrous smile, âWhen do we go?â
Petey Pablo FreekâAâLeek started playing. The deep base of the southern banger from the early 00s vibrated the floors. Aaliyah locked eyes with Keisha.
âThatâs our queue. You ready?â
Aaliyah flipped her hair over her shoulders and exhaled a shaky breath.
âLetâs do this shit.â
âWell already thenâŚâ
Keisha slipped past Aaliyah to lead the way, popping her on the ass for good measure. Something they did often back at Crazy Horse before working the floor and the pole. It was a way of saying, âbreak a legâ.
Aaliyah strutted towards a set of red spiral stairs. She allowed the music to flood her mind, putting her in the proper head space. She could do this. Sheâd done this many times before. A wolf whistle from a firefighter below gave her stomach a little flutter.
âWooooweeeee!â
âDayum! This what we got tonight, boys?!â
âKeisha!â
Keisha worked her way down the spiral staircase. She held a big smile on her face, teasing the men with a wink and a bounce of her big titties. They cheered and didnât waste time throwing cash.
âTake your time witâ it motherfuckaâs we got all night!â
She looked up at Aaliyah and elevated a brow, her way of saying, Bitch! Letâs get to it!
Aaliyah shook off her nerves and descended the staircase, another massive uproar filling the room.
âHoly shitâŚâ
âFuck! Sheâs a baddie!â
âLook at that assâŚâ
âHey, baby!â
Aaliyah scanned the room full of rowdy men pumped with testosterone and arousal. They each wore Baton Rouge Fire Emblems across their navy blue t-shirts. Black and white men. She could smell beer and liquor in the air with a hint of cigarette smoke. She noticed parked fire trucks and two gold poles. The poles they used to swing down during an emergency.
She worked her charm, flicking her jeweled tongue and biting her lip.
âHi, boysâŚâ
The seductive power she possessed put them all in a trance. The sound of heels against the concrete floor added to the desire. She moved around the men with confidence, eyeing them up and down while touching her body, focusing on her assets that earned her cash.
âBig fine womanâŚâ
She looked up into the eyes of a carobâskinned man with a burly body. He looked like those men from the Jabari Tribe in Black Panther.
Aaliyah took advantage of that, arching her back and bouncing her ass on his crotch. Shouts and grunts filled the room.
âDamnâŚlook at that pussy from the backâŚlook at the way itâs sittingâŚâ
âYou like the way this pussy look, huh, baby?â
Aaliyah folded herself forward, trailing a finger over her covered pussy through her bikini bottom. A hefty chunk of cash smacked against her cheeks before raining down on her from above. She took it up a notch, grabbing her ankles and making that ass move from left to right.
Keisha was already on the pole, the straps to her monokini down and her titties bared for them all to see. Aaliyah felt a few bills being slipped into her blinki, and she looked back at the man that did it with low, wanton eyes.
âGorgeous babyâŚwhat they call you?â
âLiyah AllureâŚâ
âI want you.â
âYou know to pay for what you want, right?â
Aaliyah flashed her titties before covering herself back up. That had them losing their damn minds. She slithered her way towards the second pole. It wasnât exactly the pole she remembered, but it would do for this occasion. She did a back hook spin into a fireman spin. Some Three Six Mafia song started playing and Aaliyah went harder.
Green cascaded over her body while she popped ass and showed out. She locked eyes with Keisha, the exhilaration flowing between them like electricity.
Aerial Invert
Fan Kick
Drop Into A Split.
Aaliyah pulled out all her tricks and worked up a sweat. After doing her thing on the pole, she gave personal lap dances and even entertained face sitting on a timid firefighter while he was on his back. She crouched down over his face and started bouncing over him like she was riding a dick. She laughed and her eyes noticed a large wet spot in the front of his pants.
This man came on himself.
âI can smell her pussy! So good!â He shouted weakly.
Aaliyah missed the thrill.
They wouldnât stop giving her money.
âCan I smell your perfume?â
*Tip*
âShow me those perfect, brown titties.â
*Tip*
âPut my face in it!â
*Tip*
They worked that room for two hours and then called it a night. After getting dressed, Aaliyah pinned up her sweatedâout tresses and secured her bag. Sheâd just finished rubber banning the last of her money sheâd split with Keisha. Keisha dropped her off, both of them cracking up and doubling over with laughter in her Hellcat.
âBitch! That was so much damn fun!â Aaliyah said.
âI told you! This is where itâs at, girl. They loved you. I knew they would love you.â
âIt felt so good being on the pole again.â Aaliyah smiled.
âMake sure you count that cash and let me know how much you made tonight. Until next time?â
Keisha wagged her brows at Aaliyah playfully. She giggled at her friend, opening her door to leave.
âWhen is next time?â
Keisha grinned.
âNext week. I got a bachelor party lined up. A fine ass groom. I got Diamond and Precious coming too. Thatâs gonna be wildâŚall black menâŚso you knowâŚâ
Keisha twirled a bottle of water in her lap to mimick a wellâhung dick. Aaliyah threw her head back and laughed hard.
âBitch! Iâm not playing with you.â Aaliyah spoke between giggles.
âYou down? We both know you want toâŚmight as well say yes.â
âFUCK. YES. Iâm in there. You picking me up?â
âYeah I gotchu, LiâLi. Listen, we canât be late for this, okay? You gotta be ready by eight. No later.â
âOkay. Iâll be in my best and ready to shake ass. I promise.â
Keisha pulled Aaliyah into a tight embrace and watched her enter her home before pulling off.
@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter
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meet the parents
pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: steve didn't expect things to go smoothly when he introduced you to his parents, but nothing could have prepared him for the rage he felt when they turned their comments towards you
warnings: family drama, alcohol, steve feeling inadequate, steve's father sucks here
a/n: idk if i like how this turned out, but I tried my best
You tugged at the hem of your dress, giving your outfit a once over in the mirror for the last time. You had spent ages rummaging through your wardrobe before you found this one, itâs simple but elegantâenough to make a good impression on Steveâs parents. Whom you were meeting for the first time, tonight.Â
They had been nagging him since they returned from their trip, one of many, wanting to meet the girl who he had been seeing in their absence. They insisted on inviting you over for dinner, and based on Steveâs reaction, you knew how much this meant to him. You wanted to look your best.Â
The knock on your front door pulls you away from your thoughts. You quickly grab your jacket and scurry down the stairs, slipping your feet into a pair of shoes as you go to greet him.Â
He is standing on your front porch, hands buried deep in his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. He reverts his attention to the sound of the door opening. His breath catches in his throat as he drinks in the sight of you, his previous nerves are momentarily replaced with awe at your appearance. God, you looked angelic.Â
The world seems to still as he unapologetically stares. The gentle curve of a nervous smile on your lips, the dress hugging your figure just rightâit takes a great deal of strength on his behalf not to call the whole thing off. To whisk you away for the evening all to himself, leaving his parents to dine alone. He swallows hard as he composes himself, running a hand through his hair as a lopsided grin graces his features.Â
âHoney, youâŚwow.â He begins, any words that entered his mind seemed unable to articulate how beautiful you looked tonight. âYou look amazing.â
A blush creeps up your neck at the compliment, itâs endearing how he still gets tongue-tied around you. âThanks. Thought I should put in a little effort.â
His fingers twitch at his sides as he faces another dilemma. Wanting to reach out and pull you close, push you back inside and be selfish, but he shoves them deeper into his pockets instead. The anxiety he was feeling about the night ahead was overwhelming, he was dreading itâdreading the way his father would most likely find something to dig at, something to put him down.Â
But looking at you now, all dolled up for his sake, he hates it even more.Â
He hates that you put effort in for this, when it could have gone to something so much more worthwhile. It was the story of his life, trying so hard time and time again to get their approval, only to be shot down over and over again. He didnât want to subject you to that.Â
The drive there is strangely quiet, except for the faint hum of the radio station that fills the car. His grip on the steering wheel is tighter than it usually was, his eyes trained on the road ahead. His thoughts, however, were miles away. Questions filled his mind about what could happen. What they could say to you. If they made you uncomfortable. Each one was worse than the last, the stress made his chest tighten.Â
He brushes them off. How could they not love you like he did? When youâre sitting all pretty beside him, looking so damn perfect. In every way that he is not.Â
âYou seem quiet,â you say, trying to break the silence. âSo, are your parents like, super strict or something?â
He chuckles, but itâs nervous. He has told you bits and pieces about what his family is like. Constant business trips that his mother insisted on tagging along to, holidays without him, calling a few times throughout the week. He had failed to mention how much of a dick his dad could be, especially after a couple drinks.Â
âNah, I mean, theyâre notâŚstrict.â His fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. âTheyâre old-fashioned. Like, âeverything has to be perfectâ kind of way, you know?â
You nod along slowly, mood still playful, not quite picking up on the nerves flowing through the boy next to you. âDamn, I should have brought something, or even baked, huh?â
He laughs now, but the tension still remains in his shoulders. âHonestly, you might be their favourite person after tonight if you did that. Iâm pretty sure they like you more than me.â
Your expression falters slightly at that, smile dropping as you reach over to squeeze his hand. âSteve, come on. There is no way thatâs true.â
He doesnât respond, keeping his eyes forward.Â
She has no idea.
âWell, if they donât like me, Iâll get them with my dazzling personality. You fell for it, right?â
That earns you a genuine smile. Yes, he fell for it. He fell damn hard and welcomed it fully. That is why he loathed the idea of bringing you home. Of subjecting you to this dinner.Â
âYeah, you got me good, angel.â He squeezes your hand back. âHook, line, and sinker.â
His raw honesty renders you silent for a few moments, turning your face to the view outside to hide the flush in your cheeks. He always knew how to do that. Say something so nonchalant that made your knees weak.Â
âJust a heads up,â he glances over to you briefly, hand still resting in his as you pull into the driveway of his home. âJust if they say anythingâŚweird, donât take it seriously.â
âSteve,â you pull your hand away to cup his face, big, brown eyes staring back at you as you reassure him. âIâm sure it will be fine.â
He wants to believe you. He wants to believe you so badly, but the feeling in his stomach only tightens more. In truth, he has no idea how this evening will go. And that terrifies him.Â
Steve rounds the car to open your door, holding onto your waist as you head up the stairs to the entrance. He opened the door quietly, stepping aside to let you in. He pauses to take a look at you one last time, almost melting at how the entryway light falls over your face, illuminating your tender smile. He quickly moves to help you with your coat, sliding it off your figure with gentle movements and hanging it on the rack.Â
âShoes too,â he whispers, almost apologetic, his hand gently guiding your gaze toward the carpeted floor.
He had never asked you that before. You raise a brow, amused but willing to comply. âI didnât realize there was a dress code,â you tease lightly, holding his shoulder and slipping out of your shoes.
He chuckles nervously. âYeah, just⌠donât want you getting into trouble.â
You scrunch your nose at him and smile, but there is something else brewing behind those eyes of hisâworry perhaps? You just chalk it up to innocent nerves. I mean, who wouldnât be slightly anxious to introduce their partner to their parents?
Leading you down the hall, you are greeted with the smell of roast chicken wafting from the kitchen. Itâs surprisingly homey, comforting. Tonight might not be so bad after all.Â
You step into the dining room, just opposite the open plan kitchen, first locking eyes with Steveâs mother. She gives you a warm smile, which you return. She looks just like him, same eyes, same smile, same kind expression that he always gives you. Her hands are busy on the stove but still when you enter.Â
âOh, you must be Steveâs girlfriend!â She says, her voice cheerful as she wipes her hands on a rogue teatowel. âItâs so lovely to finally meet you.â
âThank you so much for having me,â beaming as you step forward, leaving Steveâs side for a second. âEverything smells amazing.â
Steveâs dad makes himself known, giving you a curt nod. He sits at the head of the table, relaxed with a beer in his hand which Steve spots immediately. âGlad you could make it,â he tells you, his voice low, but not unkindâfor now at least.Â
Steve returns to your side once more, a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to a seat at the table. This is good, he thinks, allowing a small flicker of hope to spark in his chest. Youâre being your usual polite self, and so far, his parents seemâŚnormal. He feels relaxed as his mother places the perfectly roast chicken at the centre of the table, letting out a small breath as he sits down.Â
âOh my gosh,â you exclaim, your face lighting up at the spread. âI love a roast! Itâs been so long since Iâve had one.â
His mother blushes, clearly pleased by your praise. âWell, Iâm glad to hear it! There is plenty here so please, help yourself.âÂ
You nod as you pick up the plate of potatoes, Steve picking up the greens, locking eyes as you swap them over. You are pleasantly surprised to see his expression, no longer sour with anxiety.Â
âBet itâs nice to have a home-cooked meal, huh?â Steveâs father takes a swig from his drink before gesturing to the boy at your side. âKid barely knows how to boil water.â
He lets out a large laugh at his joke, oblivious to the way Steve pauses as he sets down the plate. He forces out a laugh as well, trying to shake it off, but he canât deny how the joke stings. Especially when it was made in front of you.Â
âI mean, I can handle the basics,â he chimes in, trying to defend himself as much as he can without insulting his father. âEggs, pastaâŚâ He trails off.Â
You allow your gaze to wander over to him, your smile faltering as you catch the hurt look in his eyes. His father doesnât seem to noticeâor care at all, really.Â
He can cook, he thinks as his eyes are trained on his father. He has cooked for you so many times, and you always said how good it was. The first moment you complimented his food he made it his mission to do it more often. It was something he took pride in. He had to teach himself after all, itâs not like they were ever around to do it, and he couldnât just live off takeaway pizzas every night.Â
He never was in the kitchen when they returned home, his mother always took the reigns there. His jaw tightens as he recalls the countless dinners made alone in his house, too used to the silence that always followed his parentsâ absence.Â
You set the fork down to the side of your place and turn to him, giving him a look of reassurance that does little to help him. You donât speak up, but the mix of emotions in your expression makes Steveâs heart lurch. He should have said something, warned you more. Or better yet, come up with an excuse as to why you couldnât make it tonight.Â
His mother was equally as oblivious to the exchange as she carved off another piece of chicken. He doesnât really care about what his family says about him, he has dealt with much much worse. But it still stings. It stings because it is in front of you.Â
The conversation flows well as you all settle into the meal. The chicken was undeniably delicious, the familiar setting of the Harrington house helped soothe you as you chatted politely with is mother.Â
âSo, what is it you do?â She asks you, tone genuinely curious.Â
You finish chewing, wiping your mouth with a napkin before you respond. âI just finished college actually. And I recently got an editing job at the local newspaper. Itâs helped me get my first apartment too, so itâs a pretty exciting time.â
Steve canât help but sit up a little straighter as you speak, his chest filling with a sense of pride that this is the woman he is introducing his folks to.Â
Thatâs my girl, my smart girl.
âWell, isnât that wonderful!â His mother says, clearly impressed. âYou must be so proud of yourself.â
Steve smiled at the knowledge that they approved of you. They might not have approved of him, they made that clearly known whenever they had the chance, but seeing how impressed they were with youâthat was enough. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his own and admiring how they looked intertwined in the glow of the dining room. His thumb strokes your knuckles, feeling a smug satisfaction rise up inside of him. Youâre smart, capable independent. Everything Steveâs parents valued in a person. He might not be what they wanted him to be but he somehow had you to show for it. He was damn lucky to have you here with him.Â
A voice cuts through the warmth he was feeling, a sharp edge bringing him down from his high. âWell, good for you,â his father said, his eyes drifting to your hands. His gaze was cold, calculating. âYou know, Iâve always said people with drive go far. Funny how some manage to make it whilst othersâŚdonât.â He gasts a glance at Steve, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm, the same voice that had followed him his whole life. âGuess you lucked out, huh, son? Dating someone with actual ambition.â
The comment hit Steve harder than he cared to admit, the jovial tone from his father did little to soften the blow. His chest tightens as he feels the sting of disappointment, but he canât help but take the words on board. You are ambitious, you have the whole world at your fingertips. You could do anything you set your mind to and he knew that. He just hoped that when that time came, he would be lucky enough to be cheering you on from the sidelines.Â
âYeah, well,â he begins with a crooked grin. âGuess Iâve got the charm at least.â
The shift in his mood is noticeable to you, you can read him like the back of your hand, the way his smile remains on his face for just a second too long. His father's words were not just a joke, not to Steve. He always doubted himself and his abilities, worried about where he would go in his life. But at the end of the day you were there to support him, whatever decisions he made were his and his alone.Â
He tells himself that itâs fine, that he can handle it. Just as long as they donât go after you, he can take it. He has no problem being the martyr, he has been the punching bag for years and has no problem taking a few more hits.
The way he looks down at his plate makes your chest ache, the way that he acts like this isnât a big deal. Itâs obvious how much it bothers him, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. It hurts you to see him like thisâreduced to a quiet, tense version of himself, happy to just keep the peace.Â
The clink of silverware continued against the plates as the conversation flowed, finishing up the remainder of dinner, the beer in Steveâs father's glass also gone. He leaned back in his chair, the same look in his eyes that Steve was familiar with, inhibitions mellowed and ready to bite. His eyes narrowed as he observed the both of you, amusement dancing in his gaze like he found the perfect moment to strike.Â
âLet me guess,â he began, wiping the edge of his mouth with a napkin before tossing it carelessly onto the table in front. âYouâre with Steve because you think you can change him, right? Girls like you always think they can fix a guy like him.â
Steve stiffened beside you, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. He opened his mouth to say somethingâanythingâbut the words caught in his throat. For a moment, he felt like a kid again, being told off for something he had no control over. Something he couldnât change.Â
Before he even had time to fully process the insult, you were there. Your tone fast, steady, unfazed. There was no way you would sit there and let that comment go. Not when it was the furthest thing from the truth.Â
âIâm not here to change Steve,â you said, your tone calm but resolute. âIâm with him because I love who he already is.â
His heart fluttered in his chest at your wordsâthe way you spoke them. With such unwavering conviction that there wasnât a doubt in his mind that you meant them.Â
His father raised a brow, leaning forward in his chair, sizing you up and clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. The act revolted you. You were done with playing nice, you were not going to let him insult you or the one you love. It didnât matter if they were family.Â
âLove, huh?â He scoffed. âThatâs cute. But, sweetheart, love doesnât pay the bills. Steve is not exactly rolling in success here, is he?â
You donât flinch, not even a little. âI donât need him to be rolling in anything. He works hard and is more successful than you give him credit for.â
His father barked out a humourous laugh, nowhere near close to finished. âKind? Iâll give you that. But Iâm just saying, girls like youâsmart, career-driven, their own placeâusually go for someone with a little more ambition.â
You narrowed your eyes at the older man, keeping your voice collected. âAmbition isnât about titles or money. Steve has plenty of it. He has been through things you couldnât even understand.â
The tension that settled over the room was tense as you locked eyes. Steveâs mother stared at her husband, you wonder if she wished to say something, or if she also was too scared to challenge the older gentleman. You felt no fear, not when it came to conflict over those you care for. You wouldnât back down. The more you spoke, the more Steve felt that old, crushing weight of his fatherâs judgement start to lift from his shoulders.Â
âLook,â his father said, not enjoying the pushback. âIâm just telling you what I know. Guys like Steveâtheyâre nice, sureâbut they donât get you very far. Eventually, youâll want more, and youâll leave him just like the last one.â
That one hit hard. Too hard. Steveâs hand clenched under the table, unwanted memories of his past relationship springing to the surface, reopening old wounds. He wanted to make a joke. Wanted to say anything that would get away from this topic. His father noticed how withdrawn he got after Nancy, and now he was throwing it back in his face. He didnât like weakness, and Steve had never felt more inadequate when that happened.Â
âActually, Iâm more than happy with Steve,â you say effortlessly, voice low and confident. âHe is one of the most incredible people Iâve ever met. I donât need to âwant moreâ when I already have everything I could ask for.â
His fatherâs eyes flickered with somethingâsurprise perhaps? He certainly wasnât used to being challenged like this, feeling at a loss that his tactics werenât working. He took it as a sign to cut deeper, harsher. He needed to get the upper hand once more.Â
His lips curled into a smirk, one that Steve had seen a thousand times before, the one that always made him feel like he was on the losing end of an argument before it even began.
âAre you really gonna let your woman talk to me like this?â His voice heavy and patronising as he stared Steve down. âThatâs what youâre doing now? Letting a girl fight your battles?â
Absolutely not. No fucking way.Â
Everything was still, you could hear a pin drop in the room. Steveâs anxiety turned to full-on rage, seeping through every vein in his body as he looked at his father. He didnât care what he said to him, but the vile way he spoke of you was unacceptable. Something in him snapped at that moment.Â
âNo,â he said, voice holding unwavering clarity. His father looked shocked, not expecting such a firm response from his son.
âNo?â His father echoed, leaning forward slightly, trying to intimidate him. âFinally found your voice huh? Took you long enough.â
âNo,â Steve repeated with finality. You glanced over and saw the muscles in his jaw tightening as he met his fatherâs gaze. âWhat Iâm not gonna do is let you disrespect her like that.â
âDisrespect?â His father scoffed, shaking his head, acting as though he knew better. Like he was better. âIâm just telling it like it is. Someone has to, or youâll go on thinking youâve actually done something with your life.â
âI donât need you to tell me how much of a fuckup I am, okay?â Steve shot back, heart pounding in his chest. âI got the message.â
He looks in your direction, eyes softening slightly as he takes in your expression. It held something his father had never directed at him. Pride. You looked proud of him. And that thought alone stirred him on.Â
âWhat Iâm not gonna do is allow you to talk to her like that,â He returns his attention to his father, his finger pointing in your direction. âNot when you donât know a damn thing about her.â
His father bristled at the insubordination, the condescension in his voice was thick. âI know enough,â he said matter-of-factly. âI know sheâs playing house with a guy who peaked in high school. How long till she figures that one out, hm?â
Steveâs blood spiked, now more willing than ever to fight back against his father. He had been pushed around for years, if there was any time to rebel, it would be now. âYou donât know anything about us! Youâre hardly here!â
His father leaned back, smug. âI know enough about you, Steve. I know youâve been coasting. First, it was basketball, then this lousy job at the video storeâhellâyouâre lucky someone even gave you the time of day. A girl like her? Sheâs going to wake up and realise youâve got nothing to offer.â
Steve swallowed hard at that moment, his fatherâs words were getting to him, digging into his skin and refusing to let go. It was beginning to break him, like so many times previously. He was ready to back down, let him say his piece and be done with it.Â
That was until he felt a gentle hand on his leg. One that softly ran its fingers against the denim of his jeans. He stared at it. As its presence. He felt the warmth within your touch, reigniting the fire he never thought lit.Â
âYouâre wrong,â he said quietly, voice cracking slightly but he pushed on. âShe is not like that. You say sheâs smart? You have no idea. I trust there is a reason she is with me. She sees who I am, something you have never been able to do.â
His fatherâs eyes flickered with something that resembled surprise, but he quickly masked it with a cold look. âSo, what? You think this tantrum is going to change anything? These are facts. Youâve always been weak, Steve. Thatâs why youâll neverââ
âNo,â Steve cut him off, using the same word he had been repeating for this conversation, filled with a conviction that startled even himself. âIâm not weak. Iâm done letting you make me feel like I am.â
The room went still, the sharpness in Steveâs voice hanging in the air that nobody was accustomed to. His father opened his mouth to respond, but Steve didnât give him the chance.
âIâm not you. If I was she never would have looked at me twice, and Iâm damn proud of that.â
Your exit was swift. Steve grabbed your hand and dragged you to the front door, leaving both of his parents in a state of shock. You just about managed to slip your feet into your shoes as he grabbed your coat to the side of your head. Slamming the door loudly as you left.Â
The night air was cold, helping in soothing his raging anger, letting a breath out before he turned to you, stare softening with affection. He turned to face you, touching your cheek with such tenderness as he searched your eyes, trying to figure out how you were feeling.Â
âAre you alright?â He asked softly, running his thumb along your cheekbone.Â
âIâm alright,â you assured him, leaning into his touch. âAre you alright?â
âYeah, Iâwow,â he was still jittery, letting out a shaky laugh and running a hand through his hair. âI canât believe I said all that.â
âI can,â you said as you gave him a reassuring smile. âIâm really proud of you.â
His expression was gentle, grateful to actually hear the words that had been denied for so many years. There was another emotion within him as well, a sense of awe. The way you handled yourself with grace, not bending under pressure. He swore he was already head over heels for you, but after tonight? He fell for you a just little bit harder. He shakes his head at your previous compliment.Â
âYou were amazing in there, sweetheart,â a crooked smile forming. âGod, youâre something you know that?â
You smiled as you allowed him to lead you to his car, arm resting on your back as he opened the door for you. He slipped into the driver's seat and started the ignition, fingers drumming on the steerwheel as he tried to gather his thoughts. âI donât think I can go back there. Like, ever.â
âYeah, I kind of got that,â you say as you nudge him playfully. âGuess Iâm gonna have to move you in, huh?â
He glanced at you as he pulled away from his childhood home, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. âIs that so?â
You laughed and rolled your eyes, pleased that he was making jokes instead of spiralling. The comfortable silence that filled the car was peaceful, but his expression shifted, something tentative, serious settled over him.Â
âWe could, you know.â
You blinked at his proposition. âWhat?â
He cleared his throat and immediately regretted saying anything. His nerves now spiking at his confession. It was too late to back out now, the words that spilt from his mouth flowed without thought.Â
âI mean,â he started, knuckles turning white as his grip tightened. âI may work retail, but I definitely make enough to rent an apartment. I could contribute, really. I couldâŚâ
He trailed off, watching your reaction carefully. There was a sincerity in his words that made your heart melt.
âI mean, Iâm not gonna be mad about halving the rent,â you said with a blush forming on your face at the thought of living with him. Of waking up with him, coming home to him. For all of your belongings being mingled together. For everywhere you look his presence is there with you.Â
His face broke out into the softest, most boyish smile you had ever seen on him. âYou mean it?â He uttered, voice quiet, as if he may have misheard you.Â
âYes, Steve,â you brush a hand through his hair, so in love with the sweet boy next to you. âI mean it.â
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#stranger things#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x you#stranger things x reader#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things imagine
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LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM !
ŕżď˝Ľďž*ŕż for the first time ever satoru is left puzzled just by a simple question from tsumiki, but he knows just how to prove his love for you + gn!reader. fluff with some angstâ use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), found family trope <3, girl dad satoru agenda, he is a bit insecure but it gets resolved, cutest fucking declaration of love ever, surprises! snow shenanigans, mistletoe kiss, satoru is the best boyfie ever i love him (5.8k words)
notes. this is a gift!!!! so it will cater to the interests and personality of my person but everything else is very vague :) merry new years secret santa thing @scarameows-world !!!! very late by the time this gets published but whtever.. i'm the reindeer that's been up in your inbox <3 we had alot of good talks and i hope we can stay in touch after this :") now here's a cute little fic i made for you about the one and only gojo satoru. title is inspired by this song
gojo satoru is a man whose proficiency knows no bounds. he is a force to be reckoned with ushering a new era of powerful sorcerers and curses due to his possession of both the six eyes and limitless technique. he could do almost anything as one might expect and everything came naturally to him. he never had any doubts about himself, but then came along you.Â
satoru was a natural when it came to flirting, but he was not accustomed to the rejection he faced in his early days when you would âlet him down easyââ it was nothing short of disastrous, always ending in banter between you two. yet somehow you had your wicked ways of making him chase even though all you two did was flirt. after several attempts to woo you and you finally stepping up, one thing led to another now here you were, co-parenting two kids with the man you once swore youâd never be with. satoru was 100% sure that he would be yours for infinity, but it wavered on this particular day.Â
satoru was on a little errand run with tsumiki whom he had entrusted with pushing the trolley around as he scanned the list you had made for tonightâs dinner and activity. she was a young and incredibly happy girl who was much friendlier than her brother, megumi. when satoru adopted the two, tsumiki had taken a liking to him immediately whilst megumi took a liking towards you so he had taken her on the trip. it had been going well, with them doing the final grocery run after spending what felt like hours picking out the perfect wreath for the front door, however tsumikiâs question stopped him right in his tracks.
âdo you love y/n?â she asked, a little curious look decorating her features.
âthatâs a silly question. of course i do!â he uttered, scanning the wreaths with his eyes picking out the perfect one because quite frankly, he didnât know how to react.Â
people naturally assume that growing up from a family who viewed him as an ornament and coddled him that he would be a closed book or lacking in social skills but his first few years at jujutsu tech proved everyone wrong: he was not just a pretty face who could get away with just that. in the end, his love for others was his weakness and tsumiki had brought up something that satoru had failed to anticipate. what did she see that satoru couldnât and was that even possible?
she took the wreath from his hands and put it into the trolley bringing him back to the present, âhow do you know you love y/n?â she paused, and tsumiki must be sadistic for making him suffer like this, âwhat does it feel like?â she asked, looking up at him.
satoru looked down at the child, surprised by her questions. he paused for a moment, considering how to articulate such an answer to a complex question. was it that hard to believe that gojo satoru was capable of loving someone?
while satoru would never admit it at the start, he needed megumi and tsumiki more than they needed him. after suguruâs defect, they especially reminded him that sometimes blood wasnât all that important when it came to the people you loved. he loved them but in a completely different way than he loved you. a love so unequivocal that it was impossible for people not to know how truly and deeply in love satoru was with you, so he wasnât sure where he went wrong but perhaps it wasnât enough.
âwell,â he began a thoughtful look on his face, âloving someone is different to everyone. i guess i canât really explain it other than a warm, fuzzy feeling inside and it makes you feel like everything is rightâŚâ he replied, her eyes lighting up with understanding, âyou care for their happiness the most, that youâd even share your favourite candy.â he chuckled with a playful glint in his eyes, trying not to sound too sentimental.
âso you feel warm and fuzzy when you see y/n?â she looked up curiously at satoru.
he chuckled, ruffling the child's hair, "yeah, exactly. now come on, letâs finish this quickly so we can go home. get something for yourself and your brother.â he winked to which tsumiki nodded eagerly, seemingly satisfied with his answer as she rushed down the aisle finding something to bring home.
the atmosphere between satoru and the girl was no longer tense but satoruâs mind was swirling. he was reflecting on the innocence of the question as he took control of the trolley now, finished with his chores for the day. he even went as far as buying you something too but tsumiki had inadvertently planted a seed of doubt in his mind and now satoru was spiralling. did he love you enough? was his warm and fuzzy feelings strong and genuine, or was it something he convinced himself of after everything that went down? the simplicity of her question left satoru questioning himself and for the first time in forever, he is unsure of his relationship with you.
âi thought i told you that they canât stay up late.â you spoke while washing the dishes. satoru could only lightly chuckle as he rinsed the plate, putting it on the drying rack. he knew you only meant well but he enjoyed seeing you like this more than he had expected: seeing you so worried and being such a caring person towards them. it was not like he had forced you to take care of them, it was through your own volition that you practically raised them.
âcome onâŚâ he drawled a little pout on his lips, âthey said they didnât want to decorate the tree without you tomorrow.â he reasoned, knowing that the two children in the living room were your true weakness and that just as much as you do for them, theyâd do for you too. the way a simple sentence morphed your furrowed brows into a look of gratitude proved his point.
âdo they actually want to decorate the tree with me or is it only because you bought them sweets today?â you accused.
âtheyâre much older now,â he reassured with a tone you doubt has any good intentions, âbesides, i think itâs fair if we stop their ban on sweets, donât you?â he asked with a simple hip nudge and you roll your eyes at the gesture.
he was happy with this, with how things were going in your life right now, in fact he couldnât get enough of it. his request was simple, but you wasted no time immediately retaliating, âyou just want to freely eat your sweets and use them as an excuse.âÂ
âwhat little faith you have in me!â he gasped and you have to stifle a laugh, âplus, theyâre kinda scary when they don't get their way.â he joked, leaning back on the counter with his arms crossed to get a better view of you who had just finished washing and drying your hands after dinner.Â
âhow the higher-ups trust someone like you on those missions, i have no idea. i wonder how they would react if they found out you canât handle two children.â you said, flashing him a smile. mentioning the higher-ups in the conversation made satoruâs blood boil but it had been tamed when he caught that little shake of your head combined with your smile. he had been contemplating the nature and depth of his feelings for you but tonight had proved that it was all a flukeâ just seeing you was enough to remind him that nothing about loving you could ever be doubted, because loving you was as natural as breathing.
satoru leaned down to meet your eyes as you turned to face him, âsweetheart, if you want me home instead of on missions, you could just say so.â he smirkedâ a signature gojo satoru look that you couldnât tell if you loved or hated.
you narrowed your eyes at him, âi hope you get put on more missions.âÂ
âyou wound me.â he grunted, a hand over his heart feigning hurt but you knew that he was joking.
âyou can take it.â you hummed, eyebrows scrunching as he stared down at you lovingly with a smile etched across his face.
there have been so many moments between you, satoru and the kids that blossomed with joyâ something that felt lost in a world rife of evilâ but you forget that youâre both still fairly young, thwarted into roles of guardians. you loved satoru since you were teens and seeing that this was your first relationship ever, it is only normal to feel insecure, and normal that you have doubts that satoru could ever truly love you.
while staring at satoru your mind canât help but swirl with thoughts and he catches on immediately, perceptive as ever due to his six eyes and well, being gojo satoru. he sees it in your contemplative sighs that he had been hearing throughout the week, in your crafted smile, the way your shoulders are tensed and your jaw clenched: he knows youâre feeling some way right now because even your eyes donât have their usual spark. your name rolls off his tongue so naturally, as if he was born to say it, as he reaches up to brush his hand across your cheek.
âwhatâs on your mind?â he questioned with a tilt of his head, thumb caressing your cheek. to him, the signs are as clear as day that you were troubled with thoughts of something and he wouldnât rest until he found out what was going on in that beautiful mind of yours.
that warm fuzzy feeling intensified, secret moments between the two of you that the young girl was unaware of. itâs times like this youâre grateful that satoru is so in touch with how you felt most times and you canât help the relief that settles in your heart when you realise you were so lucky to have him in your life, âitâs nothing,â you shook your head with a smile plastered on your face, âjust⌠thank you for everything you did the other day,â you said, genuinely appreciative of his contribution to megumiâs birthday dinner, âi know you donât think that he likes you but he really does look up to you.â you admitted.
âmy charms arenât all that bad.â he hummed, a proud nod as you snorted at his holier-than-thou tone.
your eyes closed at the soft contact of his lips on the crown of your head, warmth spreading all throughout your body during the cold winter month. you crave him and his touch, and youâre lucky that he hasnât been put on any missions, specifically requested (he threatened the higher-ups knowing his status) to stay home with you and the others for just a couple of weeks. a small sigh left his lips as he started moving his hands away from your face up over his blindfold, the loss of contact made you pout slightly. your hand came over his, stopping him with a simple action, âare you sure you want them off?â you whispered, your voice dripping with concern.
âi want to see you.â he said, without an ounce of hesitation in his response.Â
âi donât like the migraines it gives you when you have them off.â you retaliated as you shook your head resolutely. he wants to listen to you, seeing how much you cared for him and laid your heart out for him. the love you had for him was overflowing and he did not know how he got so lucky.
âi can take it,â he insisted, voice a mix of both amusement and affection, âbesides, iâll endure any and all amounts of pain just for you.â
âafter that declaration, i better not hear a complaint out of you.â you said, smiling up at him as you begin to unwrap the blindfold yourself. your delicate fingers moved the bandages around his head, undoing the white bandages. the gesture made satoru relax in your touch as you pulled them away from his face. being able to let his guard down after suguru had been difficult but you were a rare (and lucky) case.
once the bandages are undone, you can see that heâs wincing and squinting, probably due to the oversensitivity. adjusting to his surroundings, you brush his cheek with your thumb and his eyes flutter open to have a look at you, âhi beautiful.â he breathes out, utterly captivated by you.
you mirrored his look, squinting as you leaned forward with a smile wanting nothing more than to kiss him untilâÂ
âwhatâs taking so long?â tsumiki yelled, surprising you and making the two of you jump from your spot. if satoru was masking his pain before, he wasnât doing so now as he screwed his eyes shut and you feel extra protective of satoru now that his blindfold was off. he was extra sensitive to loud surroundings so when she came in shouting the two of you with his guard fully down, you knew satoru probably was still adjusting to having his blindfold off with the kids.
âdid your brother put you up to this?â you asked.
âwe were just wondering where you two were.â she replied bashfully.
âi told you they were kissing.â megumi groaned from behind her and if you werenât embarrassed before, you wanted to dig your grave now that he had said it out loud.
âactually, we were rudely interrupted.â satoru complained, narrowing his eyes at megumi. living with them, you know how much megumi truly looked up to satoru but moments like this question why they were always at each otherâs neck
megumi rolled his eyes, âhave some manners you two,â you ordered, making tsumiki chuckle a bit, âiâm sorry for making you guys wait so long.â you apologised and you see megumi nod slightly at you.
âare you two in cahoots?â satoru whispered in your ear but you pushed him away jokingly. megumi was first to leave the room and tsumiki followed suit, but before satoru joined the two, you reached out grabbing his hand, âi know you said no presents this year, but-â you said, handing him a wrapped rectangular box.
âyou said no presents for christmas.â he blurted out, confusion taking over his features.
âwell, i sometimes doubt if you ever listen to me,â you looked up at him and you would be right because satoru had bought and wrapped your gift already, âjust think of it as a very belated birthday present then.â you smiled at him, anticipating his reaction to your gift.
he opened the box carefully and he could see an engraving on a case, and his heart sunk. he knew he was in love with you, but was it possible to love you even more than he already had? he picked up the case and took out the special glasses he wore when he went out instead of the usual blindfold.
âi remember you said you needed new ones after they broke.â
âcorrection, when megumi broke my other ones.â he corrected. you rolled your eyes at him, and give him a light peck on the cheek, âthank you.â he spoke before you could make your way to help the children.Â
âdonât break them again, iâm not made of money satoru.â you warned and situated yourself on the floor, sitting cross legged as you peered over at what the two had been up to when you and satoru were in the kitchen. tsumiki was unboxing some tinsel and megumi was taking care of the ornaments. to be honest, you werenât sure when you became one of those families who went full out for christmas. the only things you ever really did was presents or stockings and having dinner together. you were overlooking the process, not really helping, or rather not knowing how to as you had never really had a tree let alone decorate one.Â
âyouâre not going to help?â tsumiki questioned, with a tilt of her head as she began to decorate the tree.
all the attention is turned to you now as you shake your head untangling some of the lights for the tree, âi mean, iâve never really celebrated christmas with a tree and itâs for you guys right?â
âthatâs sick and twisted!â satoru gasped, slumping down right next to you with his new sunglasses, âso you mean youâve never had a christmas tree?â he exclaimed, and quite frankly you donât really see the big deal.
âi wasnât blessed with being born into a family like yours.â you teased and he took serious offence to that, not because he was offended by your comment but more so your nonchalance.Â
âwell, anything you want to do for christmas?â megumi asked, putting some of the ornaments on the tree. he always had an artistic perspective and you were glad he was putting so much thought into where each one went.
âiâm not going to be home until late at night, but i guess iâve always wanted it to snow big enough that i could build a snowman.â you shrugged, looking at the kids.
âthatâs impossible.â megumi groaned.
âhow are we going to get it to snow?â she exclaimed.
âexactly. itâs alright,â you reassured as you stood up from your spot, âas long as iâve got you guys, thatâs all i could ask for.â you winked at them as you helped them get to the higher spots of the tree. satoru sits there watching as you now start to help the two decorate the tree and decide to help out. you are too distracted to see that his mind is swirling with ideasâ he is determined to make your christmas a little more special and he has some ideas up his sleeve that he canât wait to use.
you feel the exhaustion of staying up late last night settle deep into your bones when youâre on your way home from the mission. it wasnât like you didnât get enough sleep, you got just the perfect amount but not being home today to celebrate with the kids and satoru kind of made your heart sink. it had always been the four of you the entire day and sometimes occasionally with the others but being away from home, away from them had taken a big toll on your heart.
you wiped at your eyes with a yawn as you began making your way down the path to your house. the cool winter night was in full swing, trees moving slightly in the small rush of wind that passed by along with the small sprinkles of snow. you took a deep breath and rubbed over your arms as you looked up at the sky. you werenât lying when you said you wanted snow, it had always been a dream of yours to see falling snow, and enough that it might be enough to build a snowman, it was just something that hadnât happened in a long time.Â
you reached the house but the eerily quietness and lack of light concerned you, were they watching a movie or something or did they go out and not tell you beforehand? you brushed off your worries, unlocking the door walking into an empty house. the whole room was dark, nothing could be heard and your heart was stuck in your chest, stopping at just the mere thought of not being completely alone right now.Â
you could hear some whispers and instinctively your hand went up, charging up your cursed technique as you hear some shuffling until an array of fairy lights went off above you, decorated meticulously going up the stairs and some nice garlands all around, warm lighting and while youâre staring at the lights, you donât notice the three standing right in front of you.
âwelcome home.â they shouted, and you swear you had felt that much relief in your entire life.
âi couldâve hurt you guys!â you exclaimed, a hand over your heart. the soft vinyl record you distinctly remember shoko gifting you after seeing you eye it last christmas playing from the living room, and you couldnât help but smile.
âwell that defeats the whole point of a surprise if i told you, right guys?â he said, and it is only now you realise that he has a santa hat on with the other two in ugly sweaters. you know megumi would be less than happy to be dressed in this right now but you assume he did so for you and couldnât help the way the corner of your lips curved up at the sight. this⌠this is what you loved about your little family, and you knew it was wrong to call it a familyâ the two kids arenât yours, and youâre not married to satoru but this moment, combined with the cute late night you shared with them just the night prior confirmed that you were all closer than that and how much they loved you.
âyou did not need to do this for me,â you sighed, a little overwhelmed by how well decorated everything was. you hadnât even noticed the holly, the bells, candles, and a bunch of other festive decorationsâ they really went all out. you wonder just how they pulled it all together but then you remembered that satoru would stop at nothing when it came to his gestures, âand you definitely did not need to drag them into this.â you added, kneeling down in front of them so that you could hug tsumiki and as you stood up you looked at megumi and ruffled his hair despite how much you know he hated when satoru did it, when you did it, you werenât met with the same grumpy huff.
satoru gasped, âhey, these two were asking if youâd like them and i pointed them in one direction okay?â he defended but as you looked down at the two they were shaking their heads as if to refute his words, âdonât listen to them. they did it because they love you just as much as i do.â
respectfully, you hated satoru but not in a way that was malicious but for always making you feel like the luckiest person on earth. for being friends with you back then when it seemed like the world wasnât on your side, for allowing you to stay in his life after losing his friend, for letting you take care of two of the most beautiful children ever. he was one of the sweetest people you ever knew and you doubt any gift or gesture would be enough to make up for the man that he is. without realising you had tears stream down your face, and you bring your hand up over your face to cover it. you werenât usually the type to cry over something so trivial but here you were.
âi canât believe you made y/n cry on christmas.â megumi complained, trying to lighten the mood as tsumikiâs mouth dropped.
"y/n's fine!" satoru reassured and you canât help but laugh as you wiped away some of the tears. before you could speak satoru went over to you, engulfing you in a hug, âyou better not apologise for crying. thereâs nothing you need to be sorry for.â he reassured, rubbing circles on your back. you nod profusely, trying to keep yourself calm in front of the others (not that theyâd never seen you cry before) before pulling away from the hug. you stared into his cerulean eyes, out and free from their usual blindfold or glasses, âitâs nice to see you my love.â he whispered, meant only for your ears.Â
you chuckled, pressing your lips into his cheek before turning around, âhow about we open some gifts? how does that sound?â you smiled and their eyes lit up, brighter than the lights all inside the house and they scattered off like little mice to the living room where the tree was, with quite a few presents under the tree (courtesy of satoruâs money but joint in terms of thinking of what to get them) and you followed behind. satoru threw his arm over your shoulder as you took a seat on the couch as they got ready to unwrap their gifts.
âare you hungry?â he asked softly as they started unwrapping their gifts, the one in the penguin wrapping paper which satoru had wrapped up himself.
âi had something to eat on the way back.â you reassured and he nodded.
the two had spent quite a while opening satoruâs gifts. you noticed that the presents were some things the two children had mentioned once a very long time ago and were quite surprised that satoru had hand picked these gifts himself without asking you for help. you knew that he noticed every little detail about the people in his life but it made you wonder if he got you a gift after you said not to. you wouldnât be mad if he didnât get you one and vice versa.
âi got you that one.â you spoke, trying to contain your excitement as megumi picked up your gift, wrapped in some candy cane paper. you watched as he unwrapped it, revealing a digital camera and you hear tsumiki exclaim, excited for her gift now.
âa camera?â
you sat up, moving away from satoru as you leaned forward, âi know there arenât that many pictures of you guys around the house so i got you that so we could start printing some out and putting them up.âÂ
megumi couldnât hold in his gratitude any longer bringing you in for a hug, âthank you y/n.â he said, and you hugged him back, kissing him on the cheek. satoru was going to make a comment about how he also wanted a hug after all the gifts he gave but it was a special moment shared between the two of you and he was not going to ruin the moment.
as megumi was setting up his camera with satoruâs help, you turned to tsumiki and watched as she unwrapped her own gift, she looked up from the box to you with shock all over her face, ây/nâŚâ she whispered, voice cracking, âi canât take this.â she said, handing you back the box.
âhey.. it's okay,â you reassured, lightly pushing the box back in her direction, âitâs a gift tsumiki.âÂ
you watched her pull out the necklace, the stunning small heart shaped engraved with her initial on it but that wasnât all you got her. after observing the necklace and helping her put it on, she opened a box that contained a letter, telling her of how much you adored her with special keepsakes from some memories you shared throughout the year. you have never seen her so happy and when she hugged you, you catch the stare that satoru is giving youâ absolutely entranced by how much you loved them. a simple flash takes you off guard as megumi takes his first picture on the camera.
âhow about you guys get your coats, i have something to give y/n.â satoru stated and they ran off with excitement in their bones at his plan. he had filled them in but they weren't convinced he could pull it off.
âtalk about a successful night.â you chuckled, picking up the wrapping paper and throwing it in the bag that satoru was holding.Â
âget changed.â he spoke, taking the bag from you and now itâs your turn to be surprised again.
âwhat? where are we going?â
after getting changed, suspicion arising from his sudden ask of getting changed. you walk out of your room seeing everyone in their coats, scarves, and you watch as the children begin to walk out first leaving the two of you alone.Â
âwhat are you up to satoru?â you questioned, furrowing your brows.Â
âsince you thought you could cheat your way around buying me a gift,â he replied honestly, which took you off guard, âi thought it was only fair if i got you some things as well.â there was a small box in his hand, and you took it from his hand. you held your breath as you unwrapped the paper to see a box tied with a ribbon. you opened the box, revealing nothing but a sheet of paper.
you definitely werenât the ungrateful type but you were expecting something else like maybe a ring, a necklace or something else but as you examined the paper you looked up at him with your mouth wide open. it was a receipt of something you had been eyeing for a couple months but nothing you could excuse spending money on. you had been an avid lover since you were young and it was always your dream to have one of these.
âsatoru.â you said, honestly starstruck at his gift.
âyou have been eyeing that for so long,â he reasoned with a simple nudge of the shoulder, "merry christmas."
âi canât accept this.â you shook your head, giving it back to him but you know it is relentless to deny his gifts especially after you pulled your little secret gift on him the other day.
satoru gave you a stare and pursed his lip, âyou are keeping it. end of discussion.â he smiled as he started to wrap a scarf around you. satoru had always looked good in winter clothing, a scarf tucked around his neck and due to his infinity, he was never cold but still dressed to the occasion with his designer brands. he was so handsomeâŚ
âand since youâre not saying anything i'm assuming you don't like it?â he taunted. you told your brain to make a coherent sentence or at least move so you donât make a fool of yourself just looking at the gift. you stared up at him, you used your free hand to push the scarf down from the bottom half of your face, "you know i thought you weren't going to get me anything?"
satoru had never stopped at any words faster than he had those, "what?" he answered with a shaky voice.
you scoffed holding his hand in yours, looking anywhere but into his eyes, "i thought you might do a whole 'i'm your gift' thing," you admitted, a little ashamed you had such little faith in him, "i guess you do love me."
"y/n..." he uttered, "if i have ever made you doubt i love you then i have failed as your boyfriend," he spoke and you could feel your whole body warm at his words. "you are everything to me even if you and megumi are in cahoots and pray on my downfall." he said and you shoved him. he winced lightly at the push and smiled as he pulled you close to him once more, eyes moving down to your lips then back up to your eyes.
âthat was really sweet of you.â you uttered, looking up at him.
âsweet enough for a kiss?â
âunless you make it snow, iâm not kissing you.âÂ
âi think i deserve just oneâŚâ he teased as he leaned closer to you.
a hand suddenly grabbed yours, tsumiki's gloved one, and once again stealing that moment between you and satoru, "y/n! didn't you hear me?" she gasped as you saw the wet snow on her coat go from crystal into a wet drop.
"what happened? is megumi okay? are you okay?" you asked, hand brushing over her face as if to check for any injuries.
"it's snowing!" she exclaimed as she made her way back out.
you looked over at satoru baffled but you could just see him smile at you mischievously and you run out and to your surprise, the snow is pouring down from the sky and you now know that your christmas wish has been satisfied. looking up at the sky, you put your hand out as the snow falls into your hand and you chuckle even though you are freezing your ass off.
the children began throwing snowballs at each other and one hits you at the back of the head and you turn to see all three of them standing there staring at you. they all point at gojo before you decide to pick up some snow for yourself throwing it at him back, thankful his infinity was still down.
you truly appreciate satoru doing his best to make you happy because it was all you ever wanted. he got a snowball in the face before falling down on the floor, and all of you chuckled at him landing on his back as he began to sit up, snow covering his whole back side and all in his hair.
you knelt in the snow and began to make the snowman you've always wanted to during christmas with the help of the two and when you're done you notice him standing at the front porch just staring as tsumiki started doing snow angels and megumi's two wolf shikigami joining him in the snow. you don't know when he let them out but you just smiled as you approached satoru, "what are you doing here?"
"just admiring you," he complimented and you shake your head, "did i do okay?"
you stare at him in bewilderment before moving to press a kiss to his cheek, "you did well satoru. more than that if possible."
he smiled cheekily and you move your hand to drag him back into the snow, "come on..." you hummed as you tried to pull him away from the front porch but he refused to move and you stare at him with a tilt of the head, "what's wrong?"
"you said you would kiss me if i made it snow.â he recalled, hand on his chin as he tried to refresh your memory.
âhow the hell did you manage to make it snow?â you snickered but he didnât look like he was joking. you donât know how he managed, he would never say but you shook your head, âsorry babe, i donât think you can control the weather⌠it is quite unpredictable.â you shrugged, giving him a fake guilty look.
âitâs a christmas miracle!â he yelped with his smile that you know and have grown to adore so much and you follow his gaze to the mistletoe above your head, "you know the rules." he seethed trying to seem nonchalant.
"you're an idiot," you laughed before holding his face in your hands, tiptoeing a bit before pressing your lips to his. you pulled away and brushed his lips with your thumb a little, "i love you satoru, always."
he could only pull you back in for another kiss, smiling as he did so as the kids exclaimed in disgust and horror at the sight. "i love you y/n. here's to many more years with you." he whispered when he pulled away. it was a christmas you will never forget and one that tsumiki and megumi will also never forget, dramatically reminding you that they were traumatised from your little kiss.
tags! @stsgluver @sukxma (thank you for hosting the event)
i hope you love this lynne, i apologise it's not my best work and i'm sorry it took so long. i love you, i hope you're doing well
#yours truly nini#jjksecretsanta2023#i love the found family trope#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#satorugojo#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk satoru#megumi#megumi fushiguro#tsumiki#tsumiki fushiguro#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#gojo angst#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo angst#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo fics#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo imagines#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru fic
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