#bell being soft is my everything
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Rachel meeting reader after Bel talks her mothers ear off about you and reader being a complete mess because she’s going to be meeting THE Rachel Price and Annabel calming her down 😭
My first bel ask!! I would like start of by saying thank you anon for sending in this thought. True one you are(: secondly after finishing trorp I honestly have no idea what to do with myself. Honestly it was a spectacular read. From the characters to the dynamic of the family. I loved Rachel from the beginning and loved her even more at the end. So this ask makes me happy. This is just a request and I am working on a longer angst riddled heart clenching bel fic. But of course reader is the light at the end of the tunnel) this takes place after a fair amount of time. Fair warning this is my first bel fic and I’m still getting use to writing her so if she seems a bit off have patience with me she will get better as I continue to write 🫶🫶 💌 anon don’t be shy!! This is just my first bel fic I hope it gets easier with time! Pippa I feel I know well enough to write and bel I am just figuring out. Hope to know what you liked about it!
Words: 5k+
A Heartfelt Dinner with Rachel Price
Paring: Bel Price x fem reader (takes place after the events in the book but nothing is spoiled) not edited yet. Typos will be present most likely. Read at your own peril 🤣
Warnings: Bel price stealing my heart with some good old price charm, fluff, some suggestive comments, the price girls cussing like sailors, Rachel being the best mother alive.
Bel had told you the invitation would arrive, making sure to give you enough time to process it. But it was a whole different story when the invitation arrived in a delicate envelope, its edges slightly crumpled from your nervous fingers. “Dinner at the Price residence,” it read, and your heart raced. Rachel Price—the formidable mother of your girlfriend, wanted to get to know you better. Bel hadn’t told you about what her mother went through. It was a topic you knew not to tread upon. It was Bel’s story not your own. Not that you minded, you didn’t need to know the details, all you wanted was to make a perfect impression on mommy dearest.
Bel had laughed at you, shaking her head while her eyes shined her cheeky laugh bright. “Your such a little nerd! Carter was right when she said you were a little suck up! I’ve seen you with Mr Thripp” bel began, “Mr thripp your lesson on the case of Finneas gage was amazing! Could I borrow the book for extra reading?’ ‘My favorite one! I can’t go to the mall Carter I’m helping out at the old folks home’ Bel teased, “my mother is not so easily impressed as Mr Thripp is I am afraid” she countered, pinching your cheeks with soft fingers while you only took her teasing in stride.
You were lost in thought as you both walked home from school, bel’s hand laced in your own. What did Rachel Price like? Did she like flowers? Should you bring her some? Did she even like flowers? Did she prefer chocolate? Maybe some cookies? Surly after being kept in a basement for years she would have enjoyed some treats?
“I can see your mind unraveling and as much as it is cute to watch, I love your little mind a little too much so try not to bust your head trying to appease my mother. Rachel already likes you, I’ve talked you up too her for months. Plus Carter really sells it with your ‘good girl who is student body president and spends her time at the animal shelters’. Thank you Carter Price you wanted to say.
You sighed, letting out the air that traveled in your throat, thankful enough that Rachel had some sort of picture to go off. It was quiet for a second, you girls both trying to regain your thoughts. “This really means a lot to me that my mother wants to meet you. She and I haven’t had the easiest time getting to know each other” Bel’s face flushed, her brows furrowed and her lips curled. “When she came back I was so angry. I wanted her gone, I convinced myself she was the enemy. Back to hurt my dad and I. I was hostile and I treated her like a stranger in my home. Things are better now. I-I love my mom. And even though some days it still hurts I know she loves me too and it’s enough to out way the hurt. I mean it still hurts like a shit ton of bricks but-“ you laughed.
“I understand” you simply said, nuzzling your nose into bel’s cheek, noticing the flush when your lips met her nose. She only responded with her usual, “Your getting your slober all over me!!” She faked wiped the kiss from her nose, but you could see the way her hand stilled on her nose, the soft hints of blush on her cheeks that told you enough. You had left after that, trying to come up with a way to impress the Rachel price.
“Think your mom will like my homemade apple cookies?” You yelled back to your girlfriend across the road, watching as Bel only rolled her eyes before giving you a reassuring thumbs up, you almost laughed at her expression. Her lips curled and her eyes wide, almost like she found it amusing to think of you baking a treat for her mother. Most likely because Bel knew you a little to well and knew you would be running around like a chicken without a head in the kitchen, making batch after batch and making her be the test subject. ‘Honestly your such a little domestic housewife with your baking and making me try your cookies! What are you trying to do turn me into a wild beast who’ll gobble you up the second I get a eyeful of your legs in that skirt?” You could almost hear her voice in your head. Definitely something bel price would say, maybe with a few colorful curse words in between.
Bel’s prediction had been right. You had raced home and made batches upon batches of cookies. Apple cookies, pumpkin cookies and even your grams special strawberry cheesecakes cookies hoping they would impress your girlfriend’s mother. Your range in baking was not extensive, but you knew your way around a baking sheet and that was all that mattered . The only thing that kept your nagging subconscious at bay. This dinner had to go well. Rachel had to like you. She had too. If she didn’t you might as well pull a Romeo and Juliet. You blanched inward at the statement. Maybe that was a little too dramatic, a bit like a Bel Price statement. It mattered that Rachel liked you, because you were more than fond of her daughter. Bel had been your special person. You use to play as babies together, would even after Rachel disappeared. Charlie would drop of bel for hours, Carter coming along too sometimes. You grew up close, even when bel had pulled away after the statements Sam Blake had made about her dad you still kept by her side. Sitting with her, helping her dutifully with homework even when she would snap at you with those eyes. Eyes that no matter how hard or how angry you loved. Sam Blake didn’t know why you tried with Bel, constantly nagging that Bel was damaged goods and you would never reach her. You had immediately scoffed and told her off, a white hot fury in your veins. You could still see a shocked Sam Blake as she held her binder tight in her hands as you walked off. You never spoke to Sam Blake again after that. She was conceited and lacked any human empathy.
You had spent the days researching Rachel Price’s case. Of course you did. How could you not? You wanted to understand Bel’s mind. The way it worked, how she felt, the secrets she was hiding behind those price blue eyes. You wanted her to know you were by her side. Bel at first seemed agitated as you were always around but you saw something different in those eyes. She never snapped at you, not after your little interaction with Sam Blake. You guessed she had heard through the grape vine. There was always a question in her grey eyes when she would eye you. Why are you doing this? Why me? But you never said anything. Till one day a couple months after Rachel reappeared you Invited her to a student council meeting for school, because ‘the school could really use your input. You seem like you have wonderful suggestions’ you could have slapped yourself in the face for that one. Bel had eyed you with her classic dark gray eyes, her eyes set in a furrowed brow her lip curled like she didn’t give a single fuck about it. You had laughed, a soft and sweet one, had eyed the linoleum floor of the school, a blush on your cheeks. “Never mind. It was a stupid idea. Why would you want to be in a room full of nerds that focus on why the boys sink in the bathroom is broken for the hundredth time” you had mumbled , “it was stupid of me. I guess I just wanted you to know that…that you’re invited”. ‘That I see you’ ‘that I want you there’ you had turned on your heel, desperate to get away from the scowling girl. But thankfully somehow Bel had seemed to find it cute. At least that’s what she had said now. You were sure you looked like a dork. But Bel had simply asked “what time?” With that glint in her eye that made your heart race. You told her, thinking she wouldn’t show. It wasn’t a Bel Price type of scene. Nothing was anymore. So when Bel had appeared that day, walking into the meeting room taking a seat like she owned the place eyes on you the whole time, making you nervous while you spoke to the group you were more than surprised. Bel seemed to notice the way she had made you nervous, a smirk on her features when she had eyed you a little too long causing you to stumble over your words. Blue grey eyes dancing across your eyes. Studying you, analyzing you. ‘Why did you invite me today? You could almost hear her in your mind. When asked about what she thought of adding to the meeting Bel had only shrugged, “the Rachel price shrine could be taken down now” was all she said, a bite to the end of her words, but softening just a bit when she eyed you.
The Rachel price shrine. You knew how much it had hurt bel to walk past that everyday for years. But you couldn’t take it down, knew how much it meant to the community even now with rachel reappearing.
“I’ll definitely see what I can do” you had told her that day all soft eyes even when the other kids had argued about it stating the historic value and other concepts you didn’t even bother hearing because bell was looking at you like she was thankful.
So it was so no surprise when Bel had waited for you you to leave the building, you holding the box full of the school’s clothes drive for the homelessness initiative in your hands. Bel had been leaning back against the school wall, hands in her pocket. She had nearly scared the crap out of you when she had popped up from out of nowhere. “Here I’ll take that, it looks heavy” she had stated. Bel had helped you to your car, and then had asked you out. Simple. You two had been good friends and it was an easy decision. “Do you want to have pizza with Carter and I next Tuesday? Carter has a dance meeting an hour after and I could really use some company”. You agreed. So from then on you had been inseparable. Then came to the confession, Bel had confessed first. Told you she had a crush on you ever since you both were five and you had helped Carter after she had fallen of the slide at the park. It was cute how you had rushed over, all eager kind eyes. Ready to help. From then on bel was yours. And you were hers.
You hoped Carter would help you with this dinner in return for your aid years ago in the park. Not that you needed it. Your parents always said you had a confident air about you. Now was the time to let it glow.
You felt your cheeks blush crimson as you stood at the Price’s doorstep, a tin of your strawberry Cheesecake cookies nestled in your cookie tin, a special cookie tin your great grandfather had acquired from the war in Germany. “Survived the damn Nazis this tin can sure make it through a family dinner” your grandfather had said upon you asking for the tin. You had chosen it because it was beautiful, a fine tin with colorful flowers and images of soft German clouds. You hoped Rachel would like it. It had a certain charm too it. Just like you.
You didn’t even have to ring the doorbell because the minute your fingers made contact with the doorbell the door was already open, Bel standing in front of the threshold. Her pale gray blue eyes wide upon eying your attire. A dinner dress with colorful blue lace that ended just above your thigh (that had been for her. Although you would never admit). Your brows creased, nervous fingers tapping on the tin. “Is it too much? I feel like it might be too much” you spoke fast. Bel only eyed you, a slight gulp evident in her throat, a fresh coat of ruby cheek’s adorning her usual pale complexion . “Is it too much??No…I think you look…” her eyes traveled down to your outfit, noticing the way the dress hung close to your figure. Still appropriate enough to wear to a first meeting of the mother, but also just enough to leave bel with a slight case of too hot under the collar. With your perfect curves and pale thighs just begging for her fingers to graze. ‘Keep it in your pants, Price’. She warned herself.
“Beautiful…you look beautiful..among other things. is that lace?” Bell squeaked, her fingers itching to press her fingers against the soft fabric, feel your skin underneath. Hot and soft against her fingertips.
“It is!! Isn’t it so cute!! My grandma gifted it to me last year and I’ve never found an occasion to wear it so I thought why not put my best foot forward for my girlfriend’s mother” you nervously rambled, it was cute how hard you were trying. Bel only really had one thought as she eyed your figure in that perfect lace dress, ‘thank you grandma’ bel was sure it would be headlining in her dreams tonight, but only for a few seconds because the prize was what was underneath.
Bel immediately taking the tin of cookies from your hands leaned in to peck your lips, moving back to eye you in your eyes, “you look absolutely stunning sweet cheeks” she spoke, moving in to press another kiss onto your lips, this one slow and steady, mapping out the taste of your lips. Bel could get use to this, kissing you. In fact she was and it was you would usually pull apart and tell her to focus. It was hard, with your lips that were soft and your hand that was warm on her cheek.
You wanted to pull away, you were sure Mrs Nelson from next door was alerting the media now. But all it took was the soft way bel’s left hand had slowly wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly close, lips now moving wild against your own, getting lost in the push and feel of her lips. Your stomach churned in the most delicate way, your heart pounding in your chest as you breathed through your nose, the sound of lips echoing in your ears. Bel seemed to enjoy the way you leaned into it; eyes closed and mouth hot against her own.
“Wow just look at her go! And here comes our number 5 Bel Price! She’s feisty she’s mean and she’s currently eating her girlfriend like a lean machine!” Came the voice from behind. You pulled apart right away, moving to immediately hide your cheeks and giggles in your girlfriend’s shoulder. Bel didn’t look to pleased as she eyed Carter from the doorway. Her lips too red and too cold to be that color just because of the warmth.
Bel only stared daggers at her sister, well cousin to the rest of the world. “Why do you always to have cockblock me Carter” bel mumbled, grey eyes staring steel into her cousins eyes. You laughed, watching as Carter only rolled her eyes, “I’m pretty sure you were holding your girlfriend hostage with the way your hands were on her. My god it looked like the grip you had on that one ride at storyland” Carter spoke, her eyes moving to you in that Carter way, smooth and calm. “Great story by the way y/n poor bel puked all over the couple in the next row. Had to buy them shirts”.
Bel’s cheeks flashed red, “I didn’t know you had to wait an hour to digest your food Carter!” She snapped back playfully punching Carter’s shoulder.
Carter only laughed before moving to hug her cousin, bear hugging her, “I’m only kidding you bel. I’m sorry. I apologize for my rudeness.” Carter spoke, and bell scoffed, “your just saying that”. Carter chuckled, “I am being dead serious bel. Now Say I love you Carter” she spoke. Bell sighed, eyes moving to Carter. A softness laced in them. “I fuckin love you Carter” she mumbled, just low enough for you to hear.
Carter nodded, smile wide and victorious. “There we go! That’s the spirit. Now y/n you look lovely! I love that dress!”.
You smiled bashfully, thanking Carter. You were about to follow Carter into the house when you turned back, “why don’t you go in Carter I have to get something from the car” you spoke. Carter nodded, saluting to bell before marching in. “alright. I’ll see you inside y/n”.
Bel’s eyes followed you as you opened your car door, moving to pull out a fresh bouquet of flowers. The smell of nature filling your nostrils. You fluffed them, moving some around. An assortment of baby pinks and emerald blue meeting your eyes.
“You got me flowers?” As soon as the words were said you frowned, eyes wide. Bel thought these were hers? A sudden flash of panic filled your heart. These were for Rachel. So she could have a great first impression. So she could look at them in the vase and think back to how kind and generous you were. You had originally thought to buy two, one for your girlfriend who insisted she hated flowers, or “despised them with all her heart” but kept the single rose you had given her on your first date. Ultimately you had only bought one on account of not thinking your girlfriend would want one.
“Oh these? Um-“ you could just give the cookies to Rachel, and the flowers to bel. But it was only till a playful smirk filled your girlfriend’s features. “You are the cutest human on earth my god! Your face! Relax sweet girl I know those are for my mother. But it was cute that you were willing to give them to me” bel spoke, moving to take your hand and walk up the steps.
You were instantly hit with nervousness. Bel’s fingers grounded you as she closed the door behind you. Sensing your nerves she moved in to whisper. “You’ll shine just like a star. My mom will just love you”. You hoped she did. God you did.
Bell took your hand in hers, fingers lightly caressing your hands. It was almost like a dream meeting Rachel. You had seen so much news on her throughout the years. Missing posters and tv news. Had seen a picture of her in bel’s house once. But seeing the woman in the kitchen with her soft apple cheeks and bright smile it was like she had never left. Like somehow she had always existed in the price household. Never truly gone.
As soon as her deep blue eyes met yours you froze. She looked so much like your girlfriend. Family genetics were strong for the Price family. Her smile was wide, charming, warm as she eyed you. Eyes moving over to bel who seemed to have an unspoken language with her mother.
Rachel’s smile was infectious as she moved her eyes on you, the same familiar color inviting you in because you looked into those eyes everyday. You took in her birthmark on her cheek, the mark that bel had told you about when she had met her mother in that dusty road that fateful day. The identifying mark that the police had put on every single missing poster and every news program within a 200 mile radius.
If you were being perfectly honest Mrs Price was attractive. Very with her long blonde hair that curled and soft charming smile. No wonder Bel had made you swoon.
You smiled just as bright, “Mrs Price! It’s an honor to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. I hope you enjoy treats, my grandmother makes a special recipe of strawberry cheesecake cookies and I just know they are as sweet as you” you spoke. Bel’s eyes widened at the end, a curious look in her features. Carter seemed to smile wide, she knew you were a little charmer with your soft kind smile and popular girl air but this was a whole level.
Rachel seemed to like that. She smiled wide, moving to take your tin from your hands, before pulling you into a soft hug. You were startled at first, but gradually leaned into it.
“You’ll have to forgive me sweetheart I’ve just heard so much about you from both my girls that I feel like I know you” she spoke, moving to softly caress your cheek.
You blushed under her touch, your school girl act coming out.
“I also know that when meeting a mother flowers are in order. I hope you like these Mrs price”.
Rachel’s eyes glistened ever so slowly as she took the flowers, “oh these are just beautiful. Oh thank you so much y/n. You are so thoughtful. No wonder my Annabel is smitten by you. And please! Call me Rachel. Come in! Dinner is ready”.
You watched as Rachel took the flowers in her hands, moving to nestle her nose to inhale the sweet scent. Bell smiled back at you, a smirk really. A smirk that you knew meant, ‘you little suck up’. But she was proud of you, you could see it in her eyes. The dining table was set nicely and you thanked Bel who had pulled your chair out for you, moving to press a gentle kiss to your forehead in the process. You blushed, bel was unusually physical today. No that she wasn’t all over you like any other day, it had took months of breaking down her walls when it came to physical affection.
Carter sat next to you on the left, her blue eyes the similar shade of blue, but maybe it was the light but it was the first time you noticed how the shade of your girlfriend’s eyes was a grey hue and Carter’s were clear as the sky on a good day.
Rachel was still rustling around in the kitchen, her eyes glittering as she eyed you sitting around the dinner table, bel’s body subconsciously mirroring your own. She watched her girls as they chatted animatedly with you. Watched as Carter giggled at a joke you said, her mouth wide and eyes holding affection as you whispered into her ear. Carter had just raced about you. How kind you were, clever, always being considerate of others. “She’s like the best friend I’ve never had”.
Bel had been an entirely different situation. Bel has always been headstrong, Rachel knew that. Even as a baby she had been stubborn. Stubborn when it came to doing tummy time. Rachel would hold those memories close, the images of a tiny little blonde baby crying but with such determination as she stretched her little body on the playing Mat. It had took time to repair the relationship, but bell at the end of the day knew her mother loved her with all her heart. Knew she would do anything for her. So when bel had come in one day eyes nervous but steel determination behind them and had said she wanted Rachel to meet her girlfriend it had been like a break through.
Annabel had been a bit overprotective when it came to you. Back when Rachel had first gotten home and tension was high and dangers lurked on every corner Rachel had seen the picture in bel’s room. When she had been searching for a book she had caught sight of the golden frame curled on the desk, stationed right by the bed. A spark of curiosity had filled Rachel. A mama bear instinct that seemed to roar to life after years of having to lay dormant. She liked to say she knew Annabel well enough to know that the picture was positioned in such a meticulous way that it could only mean that bel had put it there herself. With purpose.
It was a picture of of you and bel. One of those Photo Booth tickets at the mall, black and white checkered images printed on the piece of paper. Rachel could remember feeling like her heart had been ripped out. Because bel was smiling the widest she had ever seen. It was akin to seeing the sun shine, the warmth that radiated off bel’s eyes as she peered at you, like you were the sun. Bel’s nose crinkled and her eyes on you. Rachel hadn’t seen that part of bel yet. So…carefree. She was familiar with the analyzing grey eyes that seemed to follow her like she was a stranger in the house. Like a hawk, searching for anything that seemed off. Of course now bel eyed her with soft eyes. No longer the hostile girl she once was.
“Holy shit y/n these cookie are amazing!” Carter’s voice brought Rachel out of her head, with a steaming tray of Mac and cheese in one hand and a ham in her other Rachel made her way into the dining room.
You looked pleased that Carter had enjoyed your recipe, but rachel was the first to swoop in and take the tin from her youngest daughter, “carter save the rest for later! I’m making my famous cinnamon hot chocolate” rachel turned to you a gleam in her eye , leaned down and whispered, “bel just loved my hot chocolate when she was a baby, she’d get it all over her face and then I’d have to bathe behind her ears” a shine glimmered in Rachel’s eyes as she moved to sweep some strands of blonde strands from Bel’s face. A mother always. Bell didn’t seem to mind, and if she did she didn’t say anything. Just let her mother’s fingertips move the strands away from her cheeks. Bell had mentioned she was learning to let Rachel love her. It seemed like such a odd statement to others. Letting your mother love you? But you knew for bel it was the start of something new. Because ever since Rachel had been back bel had created a boundary between them. You didn’t blame her for it, and you were happy she was finally letting the poor woman love her. As only a mother could.
You smiled, eyes moving to bel who only smiled awkwardly. “Mom” she hissed, not unkindly.
Rachel only giggled, pinching her daughters cheeks as she placed the dishes of steaming food on the table. A small honey ham, rolls and gleaming potatoes that looked so good your mouth watered.
“Rachel I hope you don’t mind me saying but this food looks Amazing! My grandmother would be proud!” You spoke.
Rachel smiled that gleaming smile. “Complimenting my cooking? I like this one” she joked, turning to bel.
Rachel then moved to sit down in front of you, blue eyes watching as bel moved to grab a plate, placing one in front of you. Bel was all attentive when it came to you. Whispering to you, asking you what you wanted, only for you to smile and take her plate, asking the same questions. It was almost sweet how you both exchanged stolen glances as the plates passed each other.
“So y/n I’m told you are the senior’s class president? That must be quite the job to handle. I was my senior class president back in high school. Do you still use typewriters?”
You placed the plate full of food in front of bel, making sure to be attentive as you eyed Rachel. Her soft eyes moving between you and her daughter, who couldn’t quite take her eyes of you. Her cheeks a forever hue of crimson. Eyes dark as they eyed you.
“It’s definitely been a very challenging job” you spoke, “but I like challenges. As for the typewriters-“
“Good because this one-“ carter began, pointing her fork at her sister, humor in her tone, “all challenge”.
Bel only rolled her eyes playfully.
“I’m mostly in charge of the school’s treasure fund and field trip planning. We’ve had many successful field trips because of our passion for our students. Bel has been amazing at helping me in with some projects.” You spoke.
Bell smiled from behind her fork.
Rachel couldn’t help but smile, “really?? Isn’t that something. It usually takes a crowbar to get Annabel to do anything related to school” Rachel joked.
You laughed, you knew bel had a less than enthusiastic opinion on schoolwork. Which why now she had been in on top of her game, working twice as hard to get her GPA higher.
“Bel!” Carter spoke, eyes wide and annoyed. “You didn’t tell aunt Rachel that Mr Thripp cornered you last week to tell you that he was so proud of you! Her GPA went up by four points! At this rate you’ll be uhauling with y/n for college” Carter spoke, her voice laced with genuine appreciation.
A smile lifted onto Rachel’s lips. One you recognized. You had seen it on your own mother’s face countless times. Joy. Pride. But you knew by the way Rachel’s eyes glimmered that she was beyond proud. Despite her emotional eyes she remained as stoic as ever. You imagined bell had told her to try to be as normal as ever tonight.
“That is just…wonderful. Simply wonderful. I am…I am so proud of you Anna. Look at you my sweet clever girl! Did you know she was talking already at 9 months? You’ve always been my little firecracker”.
You expected bel to roll her eyes or leave the comment alone but she only caught her mothers eye. Held it there, a language you didn’t speak but could feel.
The moment was soon done when Rachel moved her eyes back to you.
“What do you like to do in your spare time honey? Carter’s filled me in and what you do for school but I just know a girl like you must have hobbies. Do you have any siblings? What’s your mothers maiden name?”
Your answers fell of easily enough, smiling and making Rachel laugh when you told her you were a big fan of reading. Rachel had smiled and said she had been too. You found out that your mother had gone to high school with Rachel and even had been been at her wedding. “I should have known you were her daughter, a heart like yours doesn’t come around often” Rachel spoke, eyes moving to bel swiftly.
While you were busy taking to Rachel about your home life, your little brother who you loved to death and many other funny anecdote you knew she would enjoy Carter had gotten bel’s attention from the other side of the table, a smirk on her lips. “I think mom found her new favorite daughter” Carter mouthed. Bel had smiled at that, but then blushed like a tomato when she realized the implication. Her grey eyes watched her mother with you. How Rachel looked happy. Genuinely happy. Maybe this was what she was meant for. This life. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers. She had a mother, a sister and you.
True to her word hot hocolate was served and you watched as Bel moved to pour the hot drinks into the mugs, Carter standing alongside her in the kitchen whispering away. You wondered what they were talking about, although you knew. You. Carter was all animated and Bel looked beyond embarrassed.
It was only when you felt a soft hand touch your shoulder that you tore your eyes away from the girls and took note of Rachel. She looked back between her girls and you, a smirk on her features. Her finger twisted in a motion, moving to her lips like a secret. “I have something to show you. But you’ve got to keep quiet otherwise bel will know and I won’t hear the end of it”.
You eyed bel who was still busy talking to Carter and looking far less annoyed. You got up from your chair quietly and followed Rachel to the living room. There you watched as Rachel took a small album from the bookshelf. Held it out to you, “this is bel’s baby album. I made this for her the day she came home from the hospital.” You watched as Rachel flipped the book open. Rachel’s handwriting no doubt accompanying the photos of a little red baby dressed in the hospital baby gown.
“Nine hour labor. I remember being so scared..but once I held her in my arms I realized I would do anything for her”.
Rachel showed you some more, flipping through the only memories she had of her daughter. You realized these were the memories she had held close to her, these memories.
Anna’s first day home.
First bath
First tooth
First crawl
It also didn’t help that bell was the cutest baby alive with her chubby cheeks and cheeky eyes.
“Thank you..for showing me these Mrs price. I really appreciate you. Bel loves you you know. She talks about you all the time”.
Rachel moved to eye her girls in the kitchen, “it’s not been easy with Anna. Sometimes I think back to seeing her in her car seat. Looking up at me with those eyes. And now I look at her and see a woman. And she’s so beautiful…” Rachel moved to you.
“Your mother was a good friend of mine. And I know you’ll be good to my daughter. I hope you know how much I appreciate that”.
Carter and bel had moved into the room with the hot chocolate and Rachel placed the book back on the shelf.
By the end of the evening as bel walked you to the car she was smiling ear to ear. Her cheeks flushed from the cold.
“I told you to go inside you are going to get sick!” You spoke.
Bell shook her head, moving to kiss your nose, your forehead.
“Screw the cold. You did wonderful in there. My mother practically loves you”.
You smiled, “your mother loves you bel. And I love her. She’s so fascinating and fun! She showed me your baby book-“
“In my defense what baby looks cute at that age!!-“
You only shushed her, brought her close by the tip of her coat. Her body flush with yours, the weight of her arms heavy around you. You pressed a soft long kiss against her lips, savoring how cold they felt a giant yours.
“Goodnight bel” you deadpanned smiling when bell let you go and stepped aside. “Text me when you get home. Drive safe”. Carter came out too, hugging you and tackling bell into a hug as you peeled out of the Price’s driveway laughing when Carter saluted you the whole way.
You were pretty sure you smiled the whole way home.
#annabel price#bel price#bel price x fem reader#the reappearance of rachel price#Rachel price#had so much fun writing this#this is definitely bel after dating reader for a good amount of time#thought my take on Carter wasn’t so bad#but I still hate it 🤣🤣#bell being soft is my everything#Rachel being my favorite mother#autocorrect hates me and therefore made bell into bell#will edit tomorrow when I am not half sleep#A kilton grammar original work
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The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.
Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)
A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.
“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”
“Duh, I know everything.”
“Nuh uh, Toru.”
“Yuh uh!”
The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school.
Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.
A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.
You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.
Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-
Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:
Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt.
Never mess with you. Anyone but you.
Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.
Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.
And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.
Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second.
Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”
“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”
You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”
“...you would not.”
“Would to.”
“Would not.”
“Would to.”
“Would- Sugu–!”
And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”
He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.
With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”
Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”
You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team.
And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile.
Everything.
Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else.
“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.
Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”
Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all.
If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.
Just a friend comforting a friend, right?
So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.
Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.
That night ended with a second kiss.
You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you.
Everything.
But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.
“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”
And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio.
He learns another two things that night:
Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you.
He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.
It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.
Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.
According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.
“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”
God, what a way to start the year.
Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”
And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries.
“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”
“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”
“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”
And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments.
But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”
You knew.
You’d kissed him back.
“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”
You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister.
The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.
But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”
“Where?”
At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good.
“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up.
Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”
Close - too close. So dangerously close.
He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”
“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by.
And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling.
“I’m a dead man, Shoko.”
There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.
Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”
Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.
Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine.
And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics.
His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.
Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked.
Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss.
He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door.
“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”
You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that.
Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”
“I’m serious, Satoru.”
And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for.
Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”
As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.
“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”
Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth.
So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours.
Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes.
“Toru, I have a date.”
The fourth kiss.
Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”
And the last.
He fucked up.
He really, really fucked up.
That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship.
He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious.
What did he have that Satoru didn’t?
The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his.
You, that loser had you.
“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”
“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-
“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”
And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-
SLAM!
Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.”
And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom.
“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye.
Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”
Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”
“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”
And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”
Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two.
Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn.
“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”
Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”
“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”
And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy.
Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.
His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”
Oh.
Shit.
“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”
And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”
“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”
“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”
“...”
Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank.
Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.
But you don’t.
Fuck.
And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.”
He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now.
“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?”
And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.”
“Oh.”
Then the movie is unpaused.
---
The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today.
The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.
Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway.
The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.
“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-
Ding!
Ah, there.
You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…
Satoru.
Speaking a mile a minute.
Satoru.
“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”
“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms.
What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life.
But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned.
Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.
It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.
Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.
“You loser.”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-
That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”
“Huh?”
You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.”
Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”
“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”
And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you.
Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt.
“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”
“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you.
“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.
“Toru!”
“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”
And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”
“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”
It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist.
And it’s sloppy.
Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.
“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”
It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”
The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.
“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”
A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.
And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?”
Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.
You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”
“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.
And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.
“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?”
“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”
So goading. So like you.
At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”
Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so.
“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”
And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-
“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”
Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots.
“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”
He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually.
But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit.
“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”
It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?
“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene.
“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?”
You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully.
“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out.
Like you were about to snap. Any second now.
But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…” Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”
You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt.
You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.
But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.
Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours.
“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”
And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”
It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection.
And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous.
“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.”
And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.”
He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”
Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.
At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.”
He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch.
“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”
And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”
“You have no idea.”
That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag.
Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.”
And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact.
“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”
“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.
Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-
“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”
And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps.
Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling.
“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-”
You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.
Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”
You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-”
He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll.
“That’s more like it.”
You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.
Deep. Ruthless.
“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”
You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”
But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.
“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”
“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”
You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt.
He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.”
Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”
“Still not convinced.”
But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”
“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”
“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”
You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.
Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.
And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white.
Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.
“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.
“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”
Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.
“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”
“Well, only one way to find out~”
“Oh shut up you-”
SLAM!
“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”
There were only two more lessons to be learned:
Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family.
Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.
A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit
This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.
Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other
A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)
“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”
You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”
Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.
Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.
“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.
“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”
“How?” Patrick asked.
Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”
Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.
With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.
“What?” You asked with a frown.
“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”
You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.
His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.
The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.
Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.
Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”
You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.
“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.
Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.
And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.
Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.
You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”
“Good,” Patrick said.
At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”
Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.
“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.
Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”
You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.
He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”
You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.
“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”
Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.
Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.
Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.
You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.
“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”
You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.
He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”
Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”
You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.
“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”
Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.
He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.
And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.
And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”
Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.
Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.
“Fuck�� switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”
He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.
Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.
Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.
Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.
“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.
“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.
They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”
#and when they bring Tashi in to teach her to ask for what she wants then what????#if u want me to continue this……. please god please keep sending me reqs for this au#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#my writing#art donaldson#patrick zweig#challengers fanfic#challengers x reader
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but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau
oscar piastri x leclerc!reader
the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.
ynleclerc
tagged charles_leclerc
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ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?
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username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles
username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here
username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around
arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?
ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?
charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?
ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3
scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏
username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does
username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭
oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw
username oscar??
oscarpiastri
liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others
oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪
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logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over
username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!
username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant
username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!
ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl
oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer
landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨
username lando really said i'm the third wheel??
username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too
username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil
username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(
ynleclerc has posted a story
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oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this
ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour
charles_leclerc who is this
charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating
charles_leclerc we won't hurt him
charles_leclerc answer my texts
ynleclerc
liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others
ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍
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username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied
username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)
arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo
liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl
ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)
pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗
charles_leclerc maman?
username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage
username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...
username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)
username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar
ynleclerc
tagged oscarpiastri
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others
ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮💨
comments on this post have been limited
oscarpiastri love you <3
oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.
arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?
charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?
pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍
charles_leclerc maman, you knew?
ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3
tresbelleleclercspam
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ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'
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charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race
charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non
arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned
lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should
oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???
ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers
oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3
i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!
i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri smau#f1 smau#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#oscar piastri fluff#f1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#oscar piastri x you#my writing#smau
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the grid reacts: getting caught making out!
featuring: Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris
-------------------
Oscar Piastri
It was just meant to be a small peck, but then he wrapped his arms around you, and it escalated. It had all started with a tiny peck, just before you left his driver’s room to leave him time alone before the race, but Oscar had very persuasive lips (and a very persuasive tongue). He lifted you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he deepened the kiss, holding you impossibly close. Then he sat down on his physio table, making you straddle him as you got as turned on as he was. You two had time, right? His hands grabbed anywhere and everywhere, exploring your body, despite knowing it so well. You whimpered into his mouth as he squeezed your ass, making you jolt forward. He smirked as you pulled back, throwing him a look of annoyance.
“Let me kiss it better?” he smirked and you playfully hit his chest, and he pulled you back in for another kiss. "I love you."
“Oscar! We’ve been calling you for-” Lando’s voice rang out as you scrambled to get off of him, but Lando had already seen. You buried your head in your hands, embarrassed and trying not to laugh as Oscar pulled his cap off of his head and covered his bulge. Lando burst out laughing, nearly falling to the floor as he realised what he’d walked in on, and you got up to leave, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and giving Lando a kick on your way out.
You: We are never doing that again. Top 10 most embarrassing moments of my life.
Oscar: Ok WatchMojo.
You: Sassy man apocalypse.
-------------------
Charles Leclerc
Charles was a horny man after races. No matter how tired he was, he had to have you. That’s how you ended up in his driver’s room with his lips on yours. He was intoxicating. His sounds, his lips, his tongue. Everything.
“Mon coeur,” he bit down softly on your collarbone. “Tu es trop belle pour être vraie-” (you are too beautiful to be true)
“Shut the fuck up and fuck me Charles,” you said, out of breath. He had a habit of trying to take things slowly, especially in risky places. You were almost sure he had a thing for doing it in public. He smirked down at you and pressed his lips to your again, using one hand to start to undo your trousers.
Suddenly the door flew open and you both sat up, hitting your head off of the other’s head, both of you groaning out in pain.
“Connerie,” he hissed, holding his forehead.
“Motherfuck!” you groaned as Arthur stared at the two of you dumbfounded, his cheeks red.
“I’ll just… come back later,” he said, then closed the door behind him.
“We’ve just traumatised your little brother,” you sighed, hiding your face in the nape of his neck.
“He will survive,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Too bad my pride didn’t,” you added, making him laugh. God, you loved his laugh.
-------------------
Daniel Riccardo
He was a slick bastard. One ‘I need help with my suit babe’ and there you were in his driver’s room, your shirt being pulled off and new hickies being left over the fading ones. It had been 2 weeks since you’d seen Daniel, too busy to come to the last race, and then you were travelling for a friend’s wedding. Now you were back, and Daniel was planning on showing you just how much he missed you, 40 minutes before the race started, aka, when he was already supposed to be in the damn car.
“Daniel, we should stop just-” You started, thinking about someone walking in on you two. Sadly RB didn’t give their driver’s fucking locks on their doors, probably because of Baku 2018… yeah, you and Daniel weren’t exactly quiet, and he wasn’t exactly happy after that race. “Slow down.”
He pulled back, smirking up at you. “Baby, come on, we have a bunch of time, and I haven’t seen you in 2 whole weeks, who’s going to walk in?”
You nodded and pressed your lips to his again, allowing your conscience to fall away with the way he was kissing you. Kissing Daniel was like nothing else. Everything else fell away, there was only him.
But who would walk in? Yuki, probably.
“Daniel- WOAH! LOCK THE DOOR!” he screamed, alerting the entire motorhome of your actions. You quickly pulled your shirt back over your head as he ran out. As Daniel laughed for a solid minute, you tried to get over your loss of dignity. Yuki sure did make things interesting.
“I have no lock arsehole!” Daniel laughed.
“You do! It’s the weird thing above the handle!” One of the mechanics shouted back. You walked over to the door, turning the thing above the handle, and the door locked. Daniel laughed even harder.
Once you finally stopped Daniel from laughing, you both walked out to the whole team clapping and whooping.
Yeah, not your finest moment.
-------------------
George Russell
His stupid dumb pretty face. He just looked so kissable, and you couldn’t help yourself. He was covered in champagne, and he was supposed to be using these 5 minutes to shower and change, but you had other plans. You ran him to his driver’s room, started kissing him, and didn’t stop. He didn’t seem to mind, even if it meant he wouldn’t get to shower and he’d just be champagne-y all night. He pushed you against the wall, his hands on your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair. His soft, gorgeous hair.
His hands travelled up, taking your top with them and you smirked.
“Getting handsy?” You smirked.
“Never,” he shook his head and pulled your top off, beginning his assault on your neck.
“George! Get out of the fucking shower, you can condition later- OH FUCK OFF!” Aleix, his trainer shouted and ran back out the door. George did the gentlemanly thing and covered you, but not without laughter.
“George!” you hissed as he laughed. “Give me my top!”
He handed you your top and quickly changed into a new suit, spraying himself in deodorant. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek with one last chuckle. “It's a good story for the grandkids,” he shrugged, leaving you with a smile as he went off to do interviews.
-------------------
Alex Albon
Alex had finished in the points again, and you were just so proud of him. Since he’d gotten out of the car you’d kissed him many a thousand times, but he wasn’t complaining. Actually he’d started making out with you about 3 minutes ago, and something in his kisses told you he wasn’t planning on stopping.
“Your mom will be here any minute,” you reminded him, pulling away. He rolled his eyes.
“Did you seriously just mention my mom while I had a semi?”
“Had?”
“You mentioned my mom!”
You chuckled and pressed another kiss to his perfect lips. He pulled you back in, kissing you deeply as his hands ran through your hair, messing it up, but you didn’t care. It felt too good, he felt too good. He nipped at your lips, coaxing them open so he could push his tongue into your mouth. His hands slowly went further down, dangerously close to where your top zipped.
“Alex,” You warned, breathless.
He smirked up at you. “For a minute?”
“Alex-”
“Alex? Are you in here?” George asked, walking in. The Brit was stopped in his tracks when he saw you on his lap, hiding your face in his neck as you tried to contain your embarrassment. He hadn’t even seen anything, but your cheek heated and you wanted the floor to swallow you up. “Oh, sorry for cockblocking, chat later.”
You both started laughing when he left.
“We need to start locking the door,” he sighed.
“I think I’m in shock, I thought that was your mom!” you cried, your breath finally going back to normal as Alex laughed at you.
-------------------
Lewis Hamilton
It wasn’t fair how good he looked in his media day outfits, and he knew it too. He knew you’d pull him to the side and tell him to meet you in his driver’s room, he knew he’d come, and he knew he’d get to fuck you.
So there you were, in his driver’s room, his lips on yours as you both desperately pulled each other’s clothes off.
Too bad you forgot to lock the door.
“Lewis have you- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK MY EYES!” Lando immediately covered his eyes, turning around as you dressed yourselves. Did you feel guilty? Yes. Did you care at all? Not really. As soon as he left, would you two continue? Probably. “HAVE SOME SHAME AND HUMILITY PLEASE?”
Lewis laughed. “What do you need now?”
“Bleach for my eyes, maybe!” Lando’s voice cracked and he turned back, his cheeks red. “I need an extra ice pack if you have one.”
Lewis nodded and got one of his ice packs out of the freezer in the corner of his room. “Here.”
Lando took it and left without another word. You looked at Lewis, shaking your head.
“I thought you locked the door,” you smirked, allowing him to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss up your neck.
“That’s funny, I thought you did,” he smirked.
“You’re going to get us caught,” you whispered.
“I don’t really care.”
-------------------
Max Verstappen
He’d won (again), and he was horny afterwards (again). As soon as he was done with the podium and the main interviews, he ran to his driver’s room and called you to meet him there, needing some ‘support’.
“Max,” you hissed as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, kissing down your neck.
“Yes?” he answered innocently, pressing his lips to yours again.
“You have interviews-”
“Fuck the media,” he whispered. “I want you.”
“Max this is a bad idea-”
Just then, the door swung open to reveal Daniel, holding a camera.
“You two need to keep it down, we can hear you down at RB!” he laughed as MAx started blushing, pushing his friend out of the room. They fought for a moment, but Daniel eventually left you two alone. Max sat beside you, letting you lean into him.
“He’s going to post that, isn’t he?” You asked.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
You’d never have a day of peace with him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
-------------------
Lando Norris
He was a sly bitch. It started as small pecks on your neck and the top of your head, then it was kisses on the lips, and now he had his tongue down your throat as you ground down on him, even though you both knew he was needed elsewhere.
"That's it," he whispered, loosing himself in the feeling of the both of you. "Feels so good."
You nodded, in pure ecstasy as you felt his hands and lips on you. "So good Lan."
His hands pulled you closer (if that was even possible) and you smiled into the kiss. This was the perfect moment-
"LAN!" Zak brown's voice pulled you both out of it, and you scrambled to get up.
Lando sighed as you left his lap and groaned out a simple "What?"
"We need you for a marketing thing, come on, chop chop!" Zak was as oblivious and cheery as ever and you could barely contain your laughter at Lando's 'annoyed teenager' face, as you and Oscar had started calling it.
"Bye baby," you pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he fought back the urge to ignore his duties and just go back to the hotel and spend the rest of the day with you.
-------------------
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female oc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x female reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#alex albon x reader#alex albon#george russell x reader#george russell#lando norris x you
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say yes to the dress
pairing: lando norris x reader (or more likely lando’s family x reader) note: i have been watching way too much say yes to the dress lately so i just couldn’t stop myself from writing this.
the soft chime of the bell above the boutique door rings as you step inside, followed by a warm rush of air scented with lavender and vanilla. the room is bathed in soft light that reflects off the rows of pristine white wedding dresses hanging delicately on their racks. you take a deep breath, feeling the thrill and nerves swirl in your chest. today is the day. today, you’ll—hopefully—find the dress.
your mother is the first to stride forward, her eyes twinkling with excitement. she squeezes your hand, a mix of pride and nostalgia evident in her lingering gaze. “i can’t believe my little girl is getting married,” she says softly, her voice catching in her throat. “i can still remember when you were a little baby resting on my chest.”
beside her, your sister grins, playfully nudging your shoulder. “she’s about to be mrs. lando norris!” she teases, drawing a laugh from you. it still feels surreal, like a beautiful dream you never want to wake up from.
lando’s mother, cisca, approaches you with a warm smile, her two daughters—your future sisters-in-law—flo and cisca, close behind. “i think we’re all in for a treat today,” she says, her eyes scanning the racks of dresses. “we’re not leaving until we find *the* one.”
you look around, feeling surrounded by so much love. these are your people, your family. it’s just the six of you today—no cameras, no fanfare, just a group of women on a mission to find the dress that will make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
the boutique owner, an elegant woman with a thick french accent, greets you all warmly. she gestures toward a plush seating area with a mirrored platform. “please, make yourselves comfortable. i’ll bring out a selection to start with. if there’s anything specific you’re looking for, let me know.”
the anticipation bubbles inside you as you take a seat, flanked by your sister on one side and flo on the other. you look over at the group, feeling grateful to have everyone here with you. “so, i’m thinking something simple, maybe lace—”
“maybe lace?” your sister interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “girl, you’re about to marry lando freaking norris. this is your moment to shine!”
you laugh, feeling your cheeks warm as you send her a playful glare. “okay, maybe a little sparkle, but nothing too crazy.”
flo leans over, whispering conspiratorially. “don’t worry, we’ll make sure you look stunning. lan won’t know what hit him.”
the boutique owner returns with a selection of dresses, each more beautiful than the last. as you browse through them, running your fingers over the intricate beadwork and soft silks, you hesitate, glancing at the price tags. it’s hard not to feel a pang of guilt at the sight of the numbers, even though you know lando would give you the world if you asked.
“i don’t want to go overboard,” you say quietly, almost to yourself. “i mean, we have a budget, and i don’t want to spend too much—”
cisca turns to you, her expression immediately softening. she places a gentle hand on your arm. “sweetheart, you don’t have to worry about that. you have no budget. lando wants you to have exactly what you want and he’ll take care of everything. if you even think about being humble, i’ll have him on speed dial.”
you blink, taken aback by her generosity and the easy confidence with which she says it. “i just . . . i don’t want to—”
she shakes her head with a reassuring smile. “this day is about you, and lando doesn’t want you to hold back. you’re part of our family now, and we want you to feel as special as you are.”
your mother nods in agreement, her eyes misty. “you deserve this, honey. you and lando both do.”
you feel your heart swell, grateful beyond words. you’ve always known Lando would do anything for you, but to hear his family say it, to feel their unwavering support—it’s everything. you’re marrying into more than a relationship; you’re becoming a part of something bigger, something that’s filled with love.
you try on the first few dresses, and all of them are gorgeous, but they don’t feel special. it isn’t until you take one of the most simple gowns, a soft lace gown that hugs your figure just right, that your heart gets stuck in your throat.
you step onto the platform and look at yourself in the mirror. for a moment, you’re speechless. you see yourself, not just as a bride, but as a woman surrounded by the people who love her most.
there’s a collective gasp from the group, and you turn to see their faces lit up with joy. your sister is already snapping photos on her phone, and lando’s sisters are whispering to each other, both clearly enamored with the dress.
cisca wipes away a tear, her smile broad. “you look absolutely stunning. everybody’s gonna be speechless.”
you feel a surge of happiness as you spin around, the dress twirling elegantly. “do you think this is the one?”
your mother stands, crossing the room to take your hands in hers. “only you can decide that, but if it feels right, it’s perfect.”
you glance back at your reflection, and you know. it’s perfect. this is the dress you’ll walk down the aisle in, the dress you’ll wear when you say, “i do,” to the love of your life.
and as you stand there, surrounded by laughter, kind words, and the unconditional love of the women around you, you know this is just the beginning of a lifetime of beautiful moments.
#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#mclaren#mclaren racing#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris f1#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris#cisca norris#flo norris#norris family#divider by cafekitsune#ln4 one shot
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Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 1515
Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?
As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed.
The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning.
You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind.
But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.
You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber.
To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond.
And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.
You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony.
Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her.
With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with.
Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible.
As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement.
"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"
You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"
Eloise shrugged.
"We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.
"Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon."
As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.
Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today.
As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.
"Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."
Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile.
"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear."
She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony.
Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family.
She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe.
As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."
Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words.
They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support.
As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months."
She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."
Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework.
"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always."
Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."
Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.
It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.
As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment.
Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.
"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?"
Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne.
They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.
"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby."
Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed.
Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.
The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.
As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you.
It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat.
The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.
Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond.
The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family.
Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music.
Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.
As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement.
You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes.
The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.
Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps.
They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.
It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.
As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion.
He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."
"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek.
He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"
Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.
"That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that."
"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."
He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.
You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.
#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagines#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton netflix#colin bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#anthony x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x y/n#x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#colin bridgerton#eloise bridgerton
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ex-husband!gojo, who wakes up every morning to his disappointment. it's been well over a couple months, yet he still extends his arm to feel for you.
ex-husband!gojo, who still has your contact saved as his main emergency contact. he uses this to his advantage— ringing your phone with the excuse of being "too drunk to drive." it works. he isn't exactly high off his brain, but he has alcohol in his system.
ex-husband!gojo, who happened to spot you with another man. who is he? is he your friend? your lover? perhaps you met after the divorce? whatever the status is, it doesn't help to soothe his jealousy. it's not like he can walk up to you — you might issue a restraining order against him.
ex-husband!gojo, who finds himself at your doorstep. it's late, storming, and you're probably asleep. he doesn't move. mind set in chaos as he ponders whether he should leave or ring the bell. he wants to see you, but the look of disgust he might receive is something he isn't ready to face.
ex-husband!gojo, who's shocked that you opened the door. he didn't ring the bell. were you already there? probably. his throat ran dry, unable to speak a word. you're leaning on the door's frame, arms crossed as you tilt your head. "you need something, gojo?" you asked, not willing to receive an answer.
"can i — can i come in?" he stutters, a little shocked at the use of his surname. the little sparkle of hope that you continue using his first name has been dusted.
ex-husband!gojo, who's fidgety in your home. your silence isn't helping him relax. hell, he hasn't known relaxation ever since the divorce. "help yourself to the kitchen. sleep wherever, i'm going back to bed," your voice held no volume of softness. it was as if you were but a stranger, yet he refuses to let you become one.
"then, may i sleep in your room? on the floor, of course," he's hesitant with his request, deciding it's best to justify himself, "i don't know my way around this house."
ex-husband!gojo, who's yet again stunned that you allowed him in your room — let alone your bed. now he's as still as a stick, unable to fall asleep due to his itching urge to pull you into him. you're most likely sound asleep, uncaring to the man you once called your husband.
ex-husband!gojo, who calls out to you, keeping his voice low as he speaks, "can we talk?"
you replied to him, voice still holding its tone of harshness, "what is there to talk about?"
"anything. how's life been for you?" he keeps his speech short, afraid of annoying you. it's a little late for that, however. you're already annoyed by the attempt of useless talks. "just get to the point, gojo."
and so he follows, sighing before he reveals his intentions, "i fucking missed you, that's all."
ex-husband!gojo, who's surprised when you sat up. although your room holds no light due to the black-out curtains, his eyes adjusted to its darkness, being able to see your every feature. your face, hands, neck, collarbone, chest — everything. he misses being able to run his hands through your body ever-so lovingly. when you lowered yourself right above his face, his eyes kept your gaze. your jaw's clenched. why does he look as if he lost everything? wasn't the divorce mutual?
ex-husband!gojo, who's rendered speechless when your voice cracked. he didn't expect it, nor did he expect you to say what you did. "i missed you, too." did you really miss him? he feels as though he's being lied to. raising a hand to cup your cheek, he shares his words, "really? then why not act on it if you're not lying?"
ex-husband!gojo, who happily accepts your kiss, moving his hand from your cheek to your nape. softly pushing you closer to himself — and to deepen the kiss. it's soft but rough. passionate but seeping with hatred. it's everything at once. you're pulling at his hair, purposefully tugging it as if you're using it to distract yourself from the escaping emotions. he's the same. using his other hand to travel along the junction of your neck and shoulder, squeezing it each time he feels to let the tears flow.
#. ae-generated: jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk angst#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo angst#gojo satoru headcanons#jjk headcanons
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like the movies
"maybe one day i will fall in a bookstore" "into the arms of a guy"
a/n: jason would DEFINITELY listen to laufey.
pairings: jason todd x fem!reader
warnings/tags: none. tooth rotting fluff.
summary: your boyfriend takes you on a date to a bookstore.
the soft chime of a bell announced your arrival as you and jason stepped into your favorite local bookstore. the place was small and cozy, with shelves crammed with books from floor to ceiling. the warm lighting gave everything a golden glow, making it feel like you’d stepped into a little corner of paradise.
"this place is pretty great," jason remarked as he glanced around, taking in the inviting atmosphere. it wasn’t his first time here with you, but he still seemed to appreciate the store's charm every time you visited.
"i know, right?" you replied, grinning at him. "i could spend hours in here and never get bored."
jason gave you a look of mock horror. "hours? you’re going to get us trapped in here, aren’t you?"
you laughed, rolling your eyes. "don’t worry, i won’t hold you hostage. but i do need to pick up a few books."
he grinned, slipping his hand into yours. "lead the way, then."
you started down one of the aisles, your fingers lightly brushing the spines of the books as you searched for the ones on your mental list. jason followed closely, his presence comforting and familiar. it was one of the things you loved about being with him— the way he made even the simplest outings feel special.
as you moved through the store, you pulled a few books off the shelves, considering each one before adding it to the small stack in your arms. jason watched you with a smile, clearly enjoying the sight of you in your element.
"how many are you getting?" he asked, his tone teasing but affectionate.
"just a few," you said, holding up the stack. "this isn’t too bad."
jason raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your definition of "a few." "you know what? give me those."
before you could protest, he took the books from your arms, adding them to the growing pile he was already carrying. he wasn’t even struggling with the weight of them— jason was strong, after all— but you still felt a little guilty.
"jason, you don’t have to carry all of those," you said, though you couldn’t help but smile at his insistence.
"nah, i’ve got it," he replied casually. "besides, it’s kind of my job, isn’t it? carrying your stuff, being the boyfriend…"
you laughed, shaking your head. "well, i appreciate it, but i can still pay for my own books."
jason’s expression shifted, becoming a little more mischievous. "i was actually thinking i’d take care of that part too."
"no way," you said quickly, shaking your head. "you don’t need to buy my books. i can handle it."
jason gave you a playful look, as if he knew something you didn’t. "what if i really, really want to?"
you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to gauge how serious he was. "jason…"
but before you could finish your thought, jason reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, black credit card. it wasn’t just any card— it was bruce’s.
"how about this?" jason said, his voice light but his grin wide. "i use bruce’s card, and it’s like a little gift from both of us. you can’t say no to that."
you stared at the card, then back at jason, your mouth hanging open slightly in disbelief. "you can’t be serious. jason, you can’t just—"
"oh, i’m serious," he cut in, his grin only growing wider. "bruce won’t even notice. and even if he does, i’ll just tell him it was for a good cause."
you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer audacity of it all. "you’re impossible, you know that?"
"and yet, you’re still with me," he teased, winking at you.
you were about to respond when your eyes caught sight of a book on the top shelf— pride and prejudice. the familiar green cover was calling your name, and without thinking, you started for the small ladder tucked into the corner of the aisle.
"i’m getting that one," you said over your shoulder as you began climbing the ladder. jason’s eyes followed you, his expression amused but also a little concerned.
"be careful," he called out, his tone half-serious, half-playful.
"i’m always careful," you replied with a grin, reaching for the book. but as you stretched a little too far, the ladder wobbled beneath you, and you suddenly felt yourself losing balance.
before you could even let out a gasp, jason was there, catching you as you stumbled backward. his arms wrapped around you securely, and you found yourself pressed against his chest, your heart racing not just from the near fall, but from how quickly he’d reacted.
"whoa there," jason murmured, his voice close to your ear. "you okay?"
you looked up at him, still a little breathless from the sudden scare. "yeah, i’m fine. but how did you…?"
"reflexes," he said with a wink, holding you close for a moment longer before finally letting you stand on your own again. "perks of the job."
you shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. "you always know when i’m about to fall."
jason grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. "that’s because i’m always watching your back."
you couldn’t argue with that. as your heart rate returned to normal, you turned back to the shelf, finally grabbing pride and prejudice and adding it to the stack jason was holding.
"another one?" he asked, his tone teasing as you placed the book on top of the pile.
"last one, i promise," you replied with a grin.
jason shook his head, chuckling as he adjusted the stack in his arms. "you better hope bruce doesn’t check his statements too closely."
you laughed, feeling a warm rush of affection for him. "if he does, you’re the one explaining it to him."
"deal," jason said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. "now let’s get out of here before you find something else to add to this tower."
as the two of you made your way to the checkout, jason’s insistence on carrying your books and paying for them with bruce’s card still had you shaking your head in disbelief, but you couldn’t deny how much you loved these moments with him— moments where his playful side shone through, making even a simple trip to the bookstore feel like an adventure.
#dc#dc comics#dc characters#dc fandom#dc fanfiction#robin ii#red hood#jason todd#robin ii fanfiction#red hood fanfiction#jason todd fanfiction#robin ii fic#red hood fic#jason todd fic#robin ii x reader#red hood x reader#jason todd x reader#robin ii x you#red hood x you#jason todd x you#robin ii imagine#red hood imagine#jason todd imagine#robin ii smut#red hood smut#jason todd smut#laufey#typical of me#like the movies#spotify
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ring my bell — ljh
♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3
When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection.
That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him.
You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything.
By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before.
At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business.
Easier said than done.
A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him - wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced.
You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great.
You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time.
I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan.
Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans.
You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room.
It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough.
But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time.
You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass.
Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep.
But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops.
As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.
You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible.
The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard.
Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…
As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet.
Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you.
Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high.
As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths.
So much for running into him tomorrow.
You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever.
You just pray to god he didn't hear you.
Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day.
Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you.
“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button.
“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”
He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down.
You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…
Stop it.
“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”
You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating.
“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually.
“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”
Quiet.
You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you.
The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens.
“Can I help you with that?”
“Oh, uh… sure.”
He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling.
He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault.
“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again.
“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”
You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you.
Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt.
You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again.
You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you.
But your gut is telling you otherwise.
Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands.
You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead.
You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum.
You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up.
You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down.
Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times.
You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?
A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger.
You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower.
You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.
It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.
You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside.
A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.
It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.
In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.
You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor.
Of fucking course.
He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you.
“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.
He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.
“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.
“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.
He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so. “That’s where I’m headed now.”
“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body.
“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone.
“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.
You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.
“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.
“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.
Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall.
Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway.
Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge.
You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body.
Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door.
You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry.
Well, only one way to find out.
With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants.
He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake.
After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat.
“Hi, um… May I come in?”
He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache.
“Sure.”
You step aside, gesturing for him to come in.
He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him.
“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk.
“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say.
“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously.
“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…”
You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze.
“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…”
Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room.
Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today.
“Yeah, you have been.”
The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato.
“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”
“Why are you apologizing?”
He stares at you, confused.
“Um…”
He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it.
He lets out a deep sigh.
“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”
He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point.
“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”
He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face.
“What if I like it?”
Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths.
“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question.
“What if I like hearing you?”
His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his.
“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”
You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips.
“Would you like that?”
He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you.
It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you.
His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours.
“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly.
You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him.
As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.
“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”
“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.
“But I know what I want.”
Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.
“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”
“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”
He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.
“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster.
Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this.
You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly.
“Now, get rid of these.”
Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size.
You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears.
Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp.
Fucking shit.
Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.
“Oh god,” he groans under his breath.
With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)
“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”
Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.
He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin.
“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well.
“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.
“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.”
He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.
“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”
You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.
“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.
“Sit on my face. Please.”
It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.
“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen.
“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail.
“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.
“Good.”
You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt.
He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face.
“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks.
“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”
The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel.
You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover.
“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it.
“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-”
Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound.
His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it.
“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck.
“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet.
Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently.
“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper.
You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him.
“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”
You smile.
“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”
Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile.
“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”
“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”
“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin.
He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm.
“Would you want to do this again?”
“Like, right now?” you reply.
“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”
You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face.
“I’d like that.”
“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”
“But also…”
Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again.
“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more.
“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously.
“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection.
He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt.
“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks.
“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him.
“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you.
He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you - slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before.
“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”
His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight.
“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”
With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle.
“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider.
“You're just really hot, that's all.”
His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands.
“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again.
“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”
“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you.
“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back.
“Do you want it to be?” you ask.
Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods.
“I’d like that.”
Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you.
“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#svthub#lee jihoon#woozi#woozi smut#woozi fics#woozi scenarios#woozi imagines#svt smut#svt fics#svt imagines#svt scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen fics#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#woozi x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen hard hours#svt hard hours
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~Blood & BLISS~
Human!Alastor x wife!Reader
Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy, blood, murder, secrets
chapter two
Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor.
Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.
You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you.
It was a dream come true.
But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man. You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?
Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.
You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.
Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.
He, himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.
Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him.
It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.
And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.
Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be!
Doting, providing, and attentive.
But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…
Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?
Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.
You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.
You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.
After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.
You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so.
You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.
”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”
You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.
With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.
“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.
Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”
You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.
Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.
It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.
But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.
Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget, Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.”
Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on.
“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.
It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.
He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.
You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.
You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.
A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep
”Goodnight”
”Sleep tight dear”
”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”
”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.
Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.
What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!
Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!
Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!
if i missed anyone my bad!!!!
@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#jyoongim#alastor x y/n#alastor smut#alastor hazbin hotel#human alastor x reader#human alastor#alastor x wife reader#alastor fluff#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor imagine#alastor x you#alastor headcanons
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The Ivory Fang (I)
— pairing: mermaid taehyung x (f) reader — word count: 6k — warnings: (soft?) yandere, mention of illness (not the reader) — summary: You have run out of options when it comes to treating your mother's illness. When a mysterious man offers you a solution that might save her, you decide that nothing is too strange if it means it'll lead to a cure – not even finding and striking a deal with a mermaid.
Part 01 - 02
"My apologies, miss, but there's nothing I can do to aid your mother. Her malady is too severe."
The healer gives you a sympathetic look before he closes his door, the bell hanging above it chiming into the quiet night. You let out a shaky exhale, staring at the door that just sealed your mother's fate.
You have exhausted every possible option of looking for a cure, pleaded with every healer you've come across to please just try, but none have been willing. They always take one look at your mother, pale and gaunt in her bed, practically rotting away as she lays there, before they scurry away, refusing to treat her.
They may see a lost cause, a patient too sick to be cured, but you just see your mother – the woman who raised you by herself and taught you that even if all else fails, she would always be there to catch you.
The gold coins in your satchel clink together as you pull yourself away from the healer's door, your steps heavy as you begin the walk back to your house.
"What a fool," You grit, kicking at a stone in front of you, "If you had any common sense you should at least pretend like you had a cure and bled me dry."
Your throat bobs as you glance up at the night sky. The stars twinkle on without a worry, indifferent that their biggest admirer hasn't laid her eyes on them in months. You never quite saw the beauty in them like your mother did – like she still does – but they are practical for lighting your way home. It's the least they can do, as the tearful wishes you've bestowed upon their fallen brothers and sisters have all gone unheard since your mother fell ill.
It happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that you still have no idea what caused it. One day your mother was fine and the next she was unable to get out of bed, falling in and out of consciousness. It's been months of you doing everything you can to help her, but nothing has even given her a moment of respite from the illness that's ravaging her body. You're truly at your wit's end.
You press your hands to your eyes as they begin to blur, willing them not to fall. On the off chance that your mother is lucid when you return, you don't want to cause her the worry of seeing your swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you attempt to calm yourself, rubbing at your eyelids until the urge to cry subsides.
As you let your hands fall away, you find yourself squinting as you re-open your eyes, hazy lights filling your vision. Your steps slow as you draw near the source, a lit-up storefront beckoning you in with its warm, flickering lights.
"This isn't.." You look over your shoulder, seeing the faint outline of the healer's door further up the road. You walk along this path every day and yet, you have never seen this store before. You can't quite seem to recall what used to be there but you know it wasn't this.
Trepidation slowly sinks in as you keep walking forward, intent to let your feet carry you past the shop without a backward glance. Even so, a moment of morbid curiosity makes you pause, your eyes drinking in the soft glow of the seemingly floating lights in the window. Turning your head this way and that, you can't see the string holding them up, the thread much too thin to be visible in such low light. The windows are covered with rich fabrics, not allowing you to look inside past the heavy drapes. Your initial thought about this being a magician's shop falls short as you notice the etching into the glass, the lettering spelling out 'The Healing Shoppe'.
The name gives you a foolish burst of hope, your body already halfway up the stairs before you remember just how odd this whole thing is. A mysterious shop has appeared out of thin air and you're going to trust it just like that? Every rational part of your brain is urging you to leave, to forget that you ever laid eyes on this shop. But.. You can't simply ignore it on the odd chance that something inside might help your mother.
Taking a deep breath, you cross the last steps and find yourself in front of the door. As you press down on the handle, it gives away with a soft rattle. The sound is peculiar, certainly like no bell you've ever heard before; but with no visual clues of what it might be, you find that you can't quite place it. You take a hesitant step into the shop, the dimly lit space in front of you more like a hallway than a proper room. The walls are empty aside from a few lit candles, only a heavy drape obscuring what you assume to be a doorway further down the corridor.
"Hello?" You call out.
You pause, straining your ears for a reply, but nothing comes. Just as you're about to leave, worried that someone simply forgot to close up their shop, you hear a heavy thud from behind the curtain.
There's no noise aside from the impact, no immediate call for help, but there's still a possibility that someone may be hurt. Perhaps they fainted or are too weak to call out to you. You decide then that you're just going to take a look behind the drape, just to make sure everything is alright so that you can leave in good conscience.
You walk past the flickering candlelight, stomach swirling with unease as you reach out for the curtain. The material is soft in your hand, threads of shimmering silver woven so delicately into it that you can't even feel it as you run your thumb across it. The fabric is heavy as you finally push it aside, your eyes widening in surprise as you take in what it was hiding.
The room you step into is filled to the brim with shelves and cabinets, all of them displaying a different collection of oddities. There's dried flowers and herbs hanging from the ceiling, the many bunches of lavender spreading a calming scent throughout the space. There's a round table placed in the middle of the room, two chairs pushed up against it. The tablecloth is made out of the same material as the drape and your fingers are already itching to touch it again.
Glancing around, you find that the shelf next to you is stacked to the brim with gemstones of every cut and color imaginable, their polished surface reflecting the sparkling jars from across the room. If your mother was here, she would insist that they were filled with stardust, the shimmering substance so bright it's nearly imitating the night sky you looked up at just moments before.
You walk slowly around the room, captivated by all of the different items you find. A shudder runs through you as you pause near a display filled with skulls, some of the shapes so outlandish you wonder if the owner has somehow mended different species together just for show.
As you finally make a full circle back to the doorway you stepped through, you realize that there's nothing in this room that should have made the thud you heard earlier. There's no one here and nothing even seems slightly out of place.
Stumped, you lean forward on the table, running your fingers over the soft texture of the cloth as you give the room another look. Is there a door you missed somewhere? Perhaps you were too captivated by the content to really pay attention to the room.
"And who might you be?"
You spin around, heart in your throat, from the sudden deep voice speaking up behind you.
You stumble over an apology as you take in the cloaked figure in front of you, their face obscured by the big hood pulled over their head. The uneasy feeling in your stomach returns tenfold as you realize you're trapped between the table and this mysterious person, their broad frame blocking the only way in and out of the room.
"I–" You're saved from your poor explanation as the figure pulls their hood off, revealing the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life. His light brown hair is tousled and wavy like he just came from a swim in the ocean, his skin sun-kissed as if he's spent his days laying by the shore. You find yourself unable to form words as you take in his chiseled jaw and almond-shaped eyes, the colour such a striking light blue, they almost appear white.
It's a little unsettling how piercing his gaze is, almost as if he's looking right into you rather than at you. Just as your eyes flicker to the curtain behind him, an excuse forming in your head for a swift exit, the man says, "What brings you to my shop?"
Flashes of your mother's gaunt face appear before your eyes, the sound of her breathing becoming heavier and heavier echoing in your ears. Even if you feel uneasy in this man's presence, you can't let this chance slip to your fingers. You owe your mother that much.
"I noticed the sign out front, that you have a healing shop? My mother.." You take a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "My mother is very ill. No doctor or healer is willing to help her, they say her sickness is too severe. You.. You're my last hope."
"Hmm, I see," The man nods. He gestures to one of the chairs, "Please have a seat and explain your troubles. I need all the details you can give regarding your mother's malady."
You quickly slip into the nearest chair, your palms clammy with nervous anticipation. This is the first person who has ever bothered to ask, who actually seems to care. You watch the man as he rounds the table, his gait awkward and staggered as he walks with difficulty to his chair. The way he moves is nothing like you've seen before. It's certainly no ordinary limp, you've never seen anyone walk so .. unnaturally before.
The man catches your eye as he lowers himself to his seat.
"I know my condition is quite unsightly, please excuse me. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, I have had to train my legs to bear my weight. It has left me feeling like a fish out of water."
He flashes you a crooked smile, the amused twinkle in his eye alerting you of a joke you don't quite understand. You wonder if his condition is similar to your old neighbor's. The man had a painful sickness in his legs and spent most of his time in a wheeled chair, but he could walk on them if it was necessary. Though the few times you did see him walk, it still looked, well, human.
"Oh no, that's alright," You wave your hands, embarrassed that your staring might have made him feel self-conscious.
Desperate to turn the conversation away from the man's illness, you begin recounting everything you can remember about your mother's sickness. You tell him about how it began so suddenly, the severity of it and how no one else is willing to aid her, all noting her as a lost cause.
"Most curious," The man hums.
He leans back in his seat, his piercing gaze moving slowly across your face, scrutinizing it. He mutters something under his breath, too low for you to hear, before he raises his voice and says, "While I may not know what your mother's sickness is, I do know that there is only one thing that can cure her. A mermaid's magic."
"Pardon me?" You stare incredulously at the man. "Did you just say mermaid? As in the creatures from folktales?"
"I do know it sounds outlandish, or perhaps you'd find insane to be a more fitting word, but it's your last chance at curing your mother. Have you not exhausted all man-made options?"
You slump in your seat, biting down on your lip as you mull his words over. You have indeed done all you could to save your mother and to no avail. While it does sound absolutely mad to go searching for a mythological creature to aid her, perhaps crazy is just what you need. You're not sure just how much you trust this strange man but for all you know, he could be speaking the truth. He certainly looks like he believes in it himself.
"Where.. Where would I find one?"
The man tuts. "That's not the question you should be asking, guppy. A mermaid requires a sacrifice of equal value to what you are asking of them. What are you willing to give to receive their help?"
"Anything," You reply, "The cost doesn't matter. I'd give up anything to save my mother."
The man grins, his smile a little sharper than before, as he pulls out a weathered map from his cloak. He traces the route you need to take, crossing over the vast ocean to reach a cluster of islands on the other side.
"Finally, you will need to take a boat from Pearl Bay to this island right here. Once you locate the mermaid, you have to offer him this," The man places a tooth on the table, the whites of it glistening under the candlelight.
You hesitantly reach across the table to pick it up, the size and weight of it much more substantial than you were expecting. You find that the tooth is much more like a fang, one end pointed and sharp. It's nothing like you've seen before.
"What animal does this belong to?" You ask, tracing what looks like a red vein embedded in the side of it.
You look up as you're only met with silence, the man's heavy gaze transfixed on your hand and the fang held in your palm. He only seems to remember his surroundings as you lower it to your lap, removing it from his sight.
The man clears his throat as he pulls the hood back over his head. Ignoring your question, he nudges the map closer to you on the table, "I have given you everything you need. It is up to you to decide whether your mother lives – or dies. Good luck."
Your mind is made up a few days later when your mother starts coughing up blood. You doubt she has more than a few weeks left to live at the rate her sickness is eating her up, so you'll have to act right away if you want to save her. You still have your doubt about the journey, about the creature you're supposed to find, but the risk is worth it if the alternative is being left to always wonder if it could have cured her. You know you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if the mysterious man was correct and you didn't do anything about it.
"I'll find a cure, I promise," You give your mother a gentle kiss on her forehead. The lines on her hollowed face are scrunched with pain, her every breath a mere wheeze as her chest struggles to rise and fall.
You meet the saddened eyes of your neighbor as you press a few gold coins into her hand, whispering a few words of gratitude for her care while you're away. The journey shouldn't take more than ten nights to complete but you have paid her far more than that, just on the off chance that the weather delays your return. With your goodbyes said, you heft your rucksack onto your shoulder as you slip out of the cottage and set course for the port.
The sun has barely risen as you locate the ship that will take you south, the wooden dock filled with travelers and crew all headed in different directions. You're surprised to find that the ship is quite large, the deck just as bustling as the dock below. With all of the boxes and barrels being loaded up, you figure it's likely a cargo ship, moving wares and supplies out to the islands. While the journey is bound to be loud and quite cramped, you think the noise might actually do you some good. You hadn't realized just how much of your own energy had been sapped alongside your mother's, how much you missed the sound of laughter and life being lived around you. You'll be stuck on this ship until it reaches Pearl Bay, unable to do much other than sleep and converse with the people around you, so perhaps this will be a much needed break – a chance for you to wind down until you reach shore. Gods know you'll need it, especially since you're supposed to hunt down a fabled creature once your feet hit solid ground.
You fight to open your eyes as the sound of the howling winds outside sweep through the room, your stomach turning at the thought of having to move to see what caused it. The trap door slams shut before you muster up the courage to turn over, the sounds once again dampened by the heavy wood.
"Ay girlie, who made you this angry?!" A crewman huffs as he stumbles down the stairs to the lower deck, bracing his hands on the walls for support.
You bite your teeth together as another thunderous wave crashes against the side of the ship. The next round of nausea washes over you as the ship rocks back and forth, the wood groaning as it tries to steady itself. It's been three days of hellish waters, the storm breaking out as soon as the ship hit the open sea. You've spent most of it confined to your cot, barely being able to keep any water or food down before another rough wave causes your stomach to empty.
The lower deck is filled with pained moans and whimpers, the majority of the passengers fairing just as poorly as you. It feels like you're stuck in a loop of absolute misery with the heavy rain that pours down on the deck above and the angry sea that threatens to pull the ship under at any moment.
You let out a slow breath through your nose, trying to think about anything else but the bile slowly rising up your throat. So much for that relaxation. Desperate for some respite from your turning stomach, you close your eyes and turn your focus onto the indistinct chatter happening on the other side of the room. The low, murmuring voices prove to be enough of a distraction that you soon find your consciousness slipping, a welcome darkness taking over you as the storm continues to rage outside.
The next time you wake up, the ship is quiet and still, like the previous days were nothing more than a fever dream. It takes you longer than you'd like to make your way up on deck, your legs trembling and weak after barely any substance over the past three days. The fresh air and warm sunlight feels heavenly on your skin as you stumble past the other travelers sprawled out on the deck, a few of them still moaning about the ship moving too much, despite its now still glide on the quiet water. The ship's railing seems like a good spot to rest, the sturdy wood providing a nice support to lean against as you survey the sea around you. The water is crystal blue, glittering under the bright sun. You've never seen anything quite like it. You let out a gasp as a school of fish pass by the ship, their gray hue reflecting the light so beautifully it looks like molten silver dancing around under the water's surface.
You stand by the ship's edge for a while, long enough for the other passengers to begin retreating back to their cots. Just as you're about to do the same, you see what looks like a white, large fin hitting the surface of the sea, the creature below too obscured by the distance from the ship to really make out. Even so, you can tell it's no regular fish. The small waves caused by the impact must surely mean that it's a strong animal.
"Did you see that?" You turn to the man resting next to you, hoping he might have an explanation of what you just saw.
The man startles as you address him, clearly on the brink of falling asleep where he stands. He blinks, rubbing his eyes as he turns his attention to the spot you're pointing to.
"There's nothing there, miss," He grumbles, openly annoyed that you woke him up.
"What? But–" As you turn back to look at the sea, you realize he's right. The creature you saw is no longer there.
"Was likely just a dolphin, miss. There's lots of them in these waters."
"I suppose so," You concede. Having never seen one in real life, only on paper, you have no clue how large they're supposed to be. Yet, something in your gut tells you that this was no dolphin – this was something entirely different.
You're not left to ponder the creature for long, not when you're alerted that Pearl Bay has been spotted in the distance. Your final night at the ship passes by in the blink of an eye, time seemingly fueled by your nerves as you suddenly find yourself stepping onto solid ground once again. With a decent night's rest behind you and a warm meal in your stomach, you set course for the next point on your map.
Following the mysterious man's instructions, you find the path going along the outskirts of the bay, walking until you stumble upon the described hut nestled close to the water's edge. The woman inside seems eager to rent you a rowboat, citing that she doesn't get much business on the far side of the island.
It isn't until she asks you where you're going that her demeanor changes, her expression turning haunted as she glances in the direction of your destination, just barely visible where the sky meets the sea.
"There is something wicked in those waters," The woman shudders, her hands shaking as she accepts a gold coin for payment, "You'd better stay away if you value your life, miss."
Your stubbornness won't allow you to turn back now, not when you've already come so far, but that doesn't mean you're not affected by her warning. Her spooked expression lingers in the back of your mind as you push the boat out to sea, your own hands trembling with uncertainty as you grab the oars and begin to row.
Perhaps you are truly foolish to ignore all of the warning signs you have been presented with, but what is a little danger if it means it can heal your mother? You'll just have to stay vigilant, making sure not to take any risks and be alert to your surroundings.
With your rucksack tucked between your legs, you hum a gentle tune, trying to calm the anxiety building with every stroke forward.
The eerie feeling grows heavier the more distance you put between yourself and Pearl Bay, the island in the distance seemingly never drawing closer no matter how long and how hard you row. You set out before the sun had reached its highest point and now its rays are almost touching the sea, the sky a pure orange. Truly, it feels like you have just been paddling in place this whole time, not moving an inch despite the bay becoming fainter and fainter behind you.
Your arms are burning from the hours of exercise, your breath labored and heavy with exhaustion. You were hoping to make it to shore before nightfall – the map did not indicate that the journey would be this long – but you fear your body might shut down if you try to push it for much longer.
You pull the oars into the boat, intending to just take a short break and rest your eyes before your final stretch of the evening.
You swear you haven't dozed off for more than a quarter of an hour, the sunset still vivid and bright, but as you reopen your eyes, you're shocked to find the island close, its proximity now near enough that you can make out the palm trees on the shore and faint details of the wild mountain imposing behind them.
"How?" You breathe.
As you shift on the bench, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you notice that your feet feel much colder than before your nap. Wet.
Glancing down, you find the bottom of the boat filled with water, the amount already well above your ankles. You fumble for the oars, cursing as you begin to row with all of your might. You can't tell where the leak is coming from and scooping the water out with your hands won't get you anywhere. Your best bet is just to get the boat as close to land as possible and then swim the rest of the way.
You resolutely do not think about what may be lurking in the water as you finally abandon the sinking boat, your rucksack balanced precariously on your head as you lower yourself into the cold water. You wonder for a split second if it's better to leave it but the extra portions of food you brought with you will surely come in handy now that your way of returning to Pearl Bay is at the bottom of the ocean.
Biting your teeth together, you begin to swim, your gaze locked onto the beach. Time feels endlessly long as you push yourself forward, the minutes ticking by so slowly they might as well have been hours.
You let out a sob of relief as your feet finally touch solid ground, every limb shaking with exhaustion as you waddle the rest of the way up to dry land. You collapse the moment you hear sand crunching under your soaked boots, panting, as your vision swirls from fatigue.
You lie there until the chill begins to set in, your dripping clothes sticking to your skin like an icy embrace. Groaning, you push yourself up on your feet, knowing you'll have to attempt to create a fire if you want any warmth to return to your body.
The sky is beginning to grow dark, its orange hues replaced by deep purple and blue. It's only now that you realize just how unnaturally quiet the island is, with no noise to be heard aside from the water lapping at the shore and a gentle breeze flowing through the palm trees. Even if you hadn't been this exhausted and cold, you would never dare to venture further into the thick vegetation in the dark. You don't trust the island to not lead you astray.
"Suppose I'll stay here for the night," You murmur.
You rummage through your rucksack, pulling out the change of clothes you had brought with you just in case. You're ever thankful for your own foresight as you strip out of your soaked garments, goosebumps racing down your skin as you hurry to pull on a dry blouse and trousers. It isn't just the cold that's making your skin crawl – you can't help feeling like somewhere in the darkness of the deep ocean, or in the shadows in the midst of the trees, someone is watching you.
You glance around as you do your blouse up, finding absolutely nothing staring back at you.
Yet, the feeling lingers.
It takes you longer than you'd like to admit getting a fire started, the branches you find a little too damp to really catch a spark. Still, some deity seems to take pity on you and allows one of your attempts to succeed, the branch igniting and spreading the flames to the rest of your small bonfire. You scarf down half of the food and water you brought with you as you soak up the warmth, deciding that despite your still vocal stomach, it's better to save the rest for tomorrow. You have no idea how large this island actually is, so there's no question that you'll have to keep your energy up.
With your stomach slightly sated and your shivering down to a minimum, you curl up on the beach, as close to the open flames as you dare. You use your rucksack as a makeshift pillow, piling up the rest of your supplies close by. Despite the unnerving, oppressive air that hangs over the island, you succumb to sleep quickly, your exhaustion too great to fight.
Your dreams are restless, haunted by sharp teeth and whispers, a deep baritone voice urging you to come find him. You wake with a start, alarmed that the puff of air you sensed across your ear in your nightmare felt a little too real.
Heart racing in your chest, you quickly survey the beach, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Your bonfire has long since extinguished itself, its ashes intertwined with the sand below.
Reaching out behind you, you frown as you don't feel the pouch of water you know you left there the night before.
Turning around, you're met with absolutely nothing. Your food and water are gone, and the clothes you left out to dry are nowhere to be seen.
You would suspect an animal to be behind it but you really don't think there's any here. It's too quiet. Not even an insect has passed you by since you stepped foot on this island.
Perhaps the sensation you felt wasn't just a dream, maybe there's someone – something – here.
"You're fine, you're fine," You whisper, digging your hands into the sand to ground yourself. You don't have time to panic. If all of your supplies are gone, it just means you have even less time to locate the creature you came here for. You have to move. Now.
You push yourself up to your feet, dusting sand off your clothes. Your boots are long gone too but you doubt they would have been of much use anyway with the way they were gurgling the night before.
Taking a deep breath, you begin walking towards the thick vegetation a little further up the beach, where the sand meets lush, long grass. The jungle you step into is so dense that the sunlight barely manages to peek through the trees, only small dapples of sunlight flickering across the ground as the leaves move with the wind. The map provided to you didn't show where you would find the mermaid once you reached the island, so you're left to wander aimlessly, pushing aside shrubs and climbing over fallen trees.
Even if you have no idea which way you should be headed, it's almost as if your body knows, your feet carrying you in what you can only hope is the right direction. Your path becomes clear as you break through the trees and find yourself at the edge of the mountain, near the shore. Your journey must have led you to the other side of the island, and the massive cave that's carved out of the mountain is too imposing to be anything but your destination. From the folktales you have heard, it seems like the perfect place to find a mermaid.
The cave mouth is facing out into the ocean, its size big enough to fit a ship through it. You say a small prayer to whatever deity is willing to listen as you square your shoulders and walk in, your barren footsteps echoing into the quiet mountain. You keep close to the wall as you follow the rocky ledge that trails along it, mindful of the stream that runs parallel to your path. The water here is darker, not as willing to divulge what may be lurking beneath its surface. It seems this cave has a paved a road for those with feet and fins.
You follow the ledge as it veers to to left and it soon becomes apparent to you that you have stepped into a tunnel, something much smaller and damper compared to the cave entrance. You can almost graze your fingertips against the mountain above you now.
It doesn't take long before the tunnel opens up before you, showing you sunlight streaming in through holes in the mountain. This cavern is large and wide, showing off a pool of water in the middle of it. You freeze near the edge of the tunnel, still shrouded in its shadows, as you finally lay eyes on the creature you have been searching for – the mermaid.
It's lounging in the water, its back turned towards you as it uses its arms to rest on the pool's edge. You find yourself mesmerized by its tail, the massive thing almost as long as a full-grown adult. It's white in colour but the scales appear to have a pearlescent luster to them, shimmers of pink and green reflecting in the water.
The mermaid's body resembles a man, showing off a chiseled back and strong muscles as he moves his arms. The mermaid's tousled, light brown hair looks oddly familiar from the back, but you know no men who sport that kind of style. There's no place for vanity in your town.
"Hello?" You call out as you step into the cavern.
You hold your breath as the mermaid flips its body around at the sound of your voice, its strong tail splashing in the water. Dumbfounded, you watch as the mermaid pushes his hair back, revealing a face you already know.
It's the mysterious man from the healing shoppe, the same one that told you to come find the mermaid – to come find him.
The man grins as he drinks in your shock, his teeth much sharper than you remember them.
"Ah, pretty human, it seems that you decided to save your mother's life after all."
"You.." You struggle to make sense of what you're seeing, none of it adding up. "Who are you?"
"Me? Oh, pardon my manners. You may call me Taehyung, human. I believe you have a request for me?"
A sudden gust of wind comes through the cave as the mermaid utters his name, a loud rattling echoing between the walls of the cavern. You remember hearing that same sound before, the night you stepped into his shop. The moment you glance up to find the source, you find yourself immediately regretting it.
The darkest spots of the cave's ceiling are filled with clumps of hanging bones, all made up of various animals. They rattle as the wind makes them sway, causing them to knock into each other over and over. You swallow thickly as you spot a skull that is very distinctly human, its warning not lost on you.
You scramble a step back as you look back to the water and find Taehyung much closer than before. He's resting casually on the pool's edge, his chin in his hand as he observes you from only a few feet away. His icy gaze is locked on to you and there's a glint in his eye that makes you all too aware that you have nowhere to run. Even if you make it out of the cave, you will still be trapped on the island. The water is Taehyung's domain and you're surrounded by it.
Foolishly naive and desperate as you are, you have let a predator lead you right into his grasp.
a/n: want to read chapter two right away? you can! just click here and it'll bring you straight to early access 💖
welcome to the third installment in the crimson shell universe (all of the stories are stand alones though, so you'll be fine even if you haven't read the others)!! i know we didn't see too much of tae in this chapter but i can promise you he'll make plenty of apperances in the next one 👀 this is a yandere mermaid story, but this fic will be... softer (?) in comparison to the others! i'd love to know what you think so far!! 💖
the next(/final) chapter will be posted in three weeks time! if you don't want to wait and would like to support me, you can read it now through early access on my kofi! the link is above. thank you!! 💖
#yandere au#yandere bts#yandere taehyung#yandere mermaid#mermaid bts#mermaid taehyung#taehyung x reader#bts x reader#mermaid au#yandere x reader
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kinktober extra — gun play leon s. kennedy x bttm male reader
ⓘ neighbour (slight ooc) leon ! clothed leon naked reader ! he puts the gun up your ass
The outbreak was doing you no good, and the fact that you were all alone when all went to hell wasn't helping much either. However, being locked in the safety of your home gave you time to hideout while the worst washed over. Though eventually, you were forced outside to scavenge for food. Unlocking your front door as delicate as tip toeing around a sleeping lion, you quietly stepped outside the comfort of your home.
You were fortunate enough to be greeted with desolate streets; only the occasional ripped up paper or trash rolled across the ground. You had almost nothing, not even a gun, just a baseball bat you bought awhile ago to play with your friends once, only to never touch it again until now. At least you took the time to impale nails to add a little more offense to your weapon.
After some soft crunching of gravel under your feet and walking through eerily quiet roads, you were met with a convenience store. The neon signs were busted and didn't glow anymore but you were able to make out some un-raided shelves behind the shattered windows.
You pushed on the front door, the quiet jingle of the door opening made you jump out your skin for a second, why'd the bell still work despite everything else being broken? You tried to keep your footsteps light, navigating around the fallen shelves and racks on the floor. Seeing a few canned foods still untouched and packets of chips as well as some beverages, you felt a twinge of relief wash over you. This was probably enough for you to not go outside for a few weeks.
You decided to walk behind the register, searching for some candy or others that would be stocked there. With no luck your eyes met the employees only door, slightly ajar. Clutching your bat in your right hand, you slowly opened the door before you were met with a light tap on your forehead. A gun, held by a blonde man who seemed to have seen it all.
“A survivor? I feel like its been ages since I've seen another living human being,” He sighed, lowering his weapon and pulling you into the room by your arm. You felt him pause abruptly once getting a good look at your face and you blinked away your initial fear upon having a gun pointed to your head.
“Oh, you're my neighbour aren't you?” The corners of Leon's lips twitched into a slight curve but not enough to be counted as a wholehearted smile.
“Leon? I thought everyone in the neighbourhood turned,” You on the other hand couldn't help but smile seeing a familiar face after fully believing you were the only human left on earth. You take a small glance around the room, noting the equipment stuffed into one corner and a makeshift sleeping bag as well as a first aid kit that had been visibly used.
You knew he was an agent from having small chats over the fence, and from the looks of things, even those who undergo arduous training suffered — even if it was a little bit more bearable for them than others.
Leon's grip eventually loosens and he turns his back to you as he walks to the far wall, sliding down against it into a seated position. From here, the bandaged up gash on his side peeks out from the rips of his shirt. That's why the glass was as broken as it was, it was a sign of Leon's fight with the undead.
Following in his footsteps you go to sit down beside him, pulling your knees to your chest as you turn to look at him. His eyebags have never been darker and there's a frown that stains his face. Leon breaks the silence while pulling his knee up to rest his arm on it, his gun clacking as he moved.
“So, it's just you?” He questions, and you can hear the awkwardness in his voice. He's never been a good talker, everytime you met him while on a walk thr conversations usually ended with a quick excuse to pull away from it. You blame it on him having to see more horrors than the average person.
“Is that a bad thing?” You mean it in a playful way, placing your hands over your knees as a cushion for your cheek to rest on. You almost burst out laughing when you see Leon tense and you can practically see the panic that he's offended you in his eyes.
“No— No, not at all,” he tries to defend himself.
“Would you rather that flower girl who lives down the street?” It's a running joke that the neighbourhood shares of Leon that the big, cold agent is in love with the soft, florist girl.
He shoots you a glare, one that shows just how many times he's heard it over and over again. Instead of replying, he turns his head with a scoff like a bunny stomping its foot angrily. You brush it off as well after seeing his lack of a response and your eyes draw to the gun that's still held firmly in Leon's hand. It would be handy for you to learn how to use one since the bat won't always be useful.
“Do you think you could maybe teach me how to use that?” You ask almost hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers in a nervous habit.
“The gun?” Leon questions, tilting the gun so he could look at it properly. One part of him doesn't want you to use it, it creates an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach seeing a guy like you hold such a murderous weapon. The other part knows it's for the best, for your own protection when he has to part ways with you. After a minute of just staring at the gun, he finalises his decision.
“Sure, I guess you'll need it in the future,” he groans as he stands back up, hand on his thigh like he was an old man getting up from his rocking chair. He tousels his wispy blonde hair, combing it back with his fingers before focusing his attention on you.
His thick black eyelashes flutter as he stares at your face for a second, walking up to you and caging your hands in his. He guides your hands to the pistol, letting you feel the cold metal to familiarise yourself. He doesn't say a thing while he lets you feel the barrel and the grip. The grip feels almost scratchy which he lightly scoffs at your expression when your fingers ghosted over the texture.
“That's why my hands are all calloused,” he faces his palm up, showing you his toughened palm while he flexes his fingers.
“You have to hold it like this, firm grip, two hands.” Leon helps to guide your hands in place, adjusting your fingers and your wrist.
He whispers under his breath “Just like that,” watching as you hold the gun straight, aiming at the blank wall. You know it's best not to fire, though, that would attract whatever monster lays outside. The gun trembles, shaking like a stripped leaf, and you realise that your hands are quivering. You're not cut out for this. You feel the weight of Leon's hand lower the gun and he gently slips the weapon away from your hands and into his.
“You have to get desensitised to it, who knows what might happen without me,” Leon's eyebrows furrow and his nose creases from the pure thought of you getting captured and held at gun-point. It wasn't far from what could actually happen either considering the law was disregarded the moment people started eating eachothers brains.
Leon raises the pistol and presses the muzzle to your adams apple, feeling it bob from your swallows.
“Does it scare you?” It's not a threatening statement, it's him asking how you really feel having the gun pressed up against your skin. The hitch of your breath goes unnoticed as Leon drags the pistol lower to your chest. With the way he's looking down, you can see his dark eyelashes, a sliver of his muted blue iris' peeked through. He really was handsome.
“Or is it because you trust me that much?” The question jolts you out of your little trance, he was only your neighbour yet you didn't seem to react in fear when he held the gun to you.
“Maybe,” you breath out, letting your gaze flutter to the pistol dragging down your chest. Leon pulls it away before bringing it up and tapping the flat side of the barrel against your cheek. There's a certain look in his eyes, its almost pitiful like a hunter watching the deer caught in the net lay completely still, unfazed.
Leon leans closer to your face, his nose practically brushing against yours. You could almost make out the faint breaths if you listened close enough and you see his tongue dart out to wet his lips before he swallowed thickly.
“I think you're liking this a little too much,” he mutters, tilting his head slightly to the right as he looks down at you, his hair falling to the direction he moves his head at. The way Leon speaks now is hushed, sultry even. He's only half joking, he sees the way your eyelids flicker a little too rapidly when he glides the muzzle over your clothes.
Your face flushes, realising that he's caught on your little inner turmoil.
“It's just the adrenaline.” You swallow your lie like it's medication; it's hard to go unnoticed when you so obviously gulp. It's not fully a lie though — you've read in a previous article things like erections can happen due to adrenaline. You squeeze your eyes shut, almost like you're preparing to be scolded by Leon.
But all you're met with is a small sigh and a shake of his head.
“If you want it, do it quickly, we won't have time to indulge in distractions in the heat of things.” Your eyes fling open, caught off guard by the fact that the Leon, your neighbour, just gave you the greenlight. You look up at him through your lashes and he returns your gaze with a small glint of reciprocating desire. The absence of an opportunity for sex really catches up when you're surrounded by infected and never in a safe position.
Before you can even say anything, Leon is already slipping off your shirt; your jacket had already been discarded when you entered the employee's only room. He takes a moment to skim over your naked body, observing all the dips and curves, and the fact that your blush reaches all the way down to your shoulders. He brushes the muzzle over your chest, and upon seeing you shiver at the coolness, a smirk quirks on his lips.
“Cold?”
“Yeah,”
You whine, gripping his forearm in a lousy attempt to stop him from rubbing the metal on your nipple. It doesn't stop him though, he gently grazes your perky buds, chuckling softly as he watches your eyebrows knit from the feeling.
“Sorry then,” he hums with amusement coloring his tone. Leon's breath becomes shallower as he trails the gun down along the line in the middle of your abdomen, all the way down to your pants.
“You're going to be the death of me,” He grunts out, delicately guiding you to lean against the wall. His arm is wrapped so securely around your back like a warm embrace. The warmth of his arm around your bare back shields you from the frigid material of the wall but the second he slips it away from you your back arches off uncomfortably.
“Bare it,” Leon pushes you back against the wall and you whimper at the cold. Its somewhat cruel how he's doing this but you understand its to get your body used to the harsh changes in environments. He mumbled small praises that are inaudible to your ears but you can barely make out the words 'good boy.'
His fingers tug at your zipper, pulling it down but you reach out to stop him, noticing how he's not taking any of his clothes off. Like he was reading your mind, Leon scoffs with a small smirk.
“I can't, it's too risky to have to put anything on if we get ambushed,” He links his fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your boxers, stretching it out a bit before pulling them down to rest at your mid thigh.
“But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself,” He places one arm at the side of your head, caging it in, and his other weilds the pistol. He can't take off his clothes so he can't fuck you properly but he resorts to using his gun instead. It's shameless with the way he's spreading the soft flesh of your thighs apart with a gun like he was slotting his dick between them.
His eyes aren't on you, they're on your body, carefully sliding the hunk of metal against your hole. It almost hurts with how dry and cold the metal feels against your skin but you don't complain. Leon muses when he sees your cock twitch when he slides the muzzle up from the base to your pink tip. He quirks an eyebrow at you, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.
“Feels weird doesn't it? Promise once we're out of this shithole I'll give you everything you want,” Again, Leon goes off about something in the future. He's thinking of a future with you after things smooth over, you can't help but bite back the small moan you were going to let out. His bangs are now covering his eyes when he returns his gaze to your lower half.
Your hips instinctively move against the barrel of the gun, sliding yourself against it. Its like the pleasure is almost there but not really, its left you struggling to find good friction. Leon notices your strangled whines and contorted face and he feels slightly guilty for not being able to give you the relief you definitely need.
He spits on the gun, lubing it up and taking a mental note to polish and clean it afterwards. Leon tilts the muzzle up, wriggling it past your tight rim. When the tip of gun enters you, you gasp, straightening your body from the foreign object being stuffed in your ass.
“Leon—” your voice cracks.
“Trust me.”
He can hear the slight panic in your voice and his palm moves to cover your eyes. You're squirming, unsure of whether to lean in or pull away from the sensation. He pushes himself up against you to keep you still since his hands are already full. Leon groans gently at how much warmth he can feel seeping into his clothes from your body heat.
He slowly pushes the gun further, tuning into the soft squelching sounds of the metal making its way through your walls. Leon couldn't deny that he was a bit jealous of how his pistol was able to feel your wet walls clenching around it rather than himself.
“Shit, you're taking it better than I thought,” He grumbled under his breath, thrusting the metal into you, attempting to push it even deeper to find your sweet spot. Leon finally moved his hands from your eyes and placed his hand on your waist, extending his thumb to rub circles over your stomach. He twists the gun inside you, flushing against your prostate. The sudden jolt of pleasure caused you to cry out and reach to grab his shoulders.
He pushed against your prostate a few times, observing how your eyes would water with each thrust and how your teeth would bite down even harder on your bottom lip the more he hit that specific spot. He slowly pulled the gun fully out with a small pop.
“Didn't know that would work,” He joked lightly, slotting the gun between your legs once more and squeezing your thighs together. He threw the gun from one hand into the other, gripping the pistol in his left hand. Leon slid his ring and middle finger alongside your ass, dipping down the curve to meet your already stretched hole. He dipped his fingers inside, already burying his fingers up to his knuckles.
He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling his fingers up to press against the deepest parts of you. Leon dragged the gun back and forth between your thighs, letting you hump the metal like a dog.
“Attaboy,” he chuckled darkly, moving his fingers faster, practically slapping his palm against your tail bone as he fingered you from behind. Pre-cum started to bead off your slit and smeared all over Leon's gun.
“You're already getting so wet,” he shook his head, feigning disappointment as he moved the gun to trace your tip, ghosting over your skin.
You whined and thrashed from the ticklish sensation, but when you tried to lean away from it, you ended up pushing up against Leon's fingers, letting them reach even deeper.
“Leon,” you mewl, gripping his shoulders desperately as your dick twitches feverishly. “'M gonna cum.”
Your soft whimpers undoubtedly got his dick hard and he swore if you kept up with the whining he'd really just take off his pants and fuck the life out of you. Leon didn't respond, he just swallowed a groan and curled his fingers to your prostate.
Feeling that familiar spark in your veins, your body convulsed and you let out a high-pitched moan, blanking out as you shot ropes of cum out, dirtying Leon's gun with white.
“I got you, I got you, don't worry,” He felt your legs give out and quickly caught you, letting you lean on him while you came down from your high. Leon pulled the gun from your legs, turning it side to side and watching as your semen dripped down the sides.
Would it even work anymore?
#servicpop — fics/drabbles#bottom male reader#male reader#amab reader#leon x male reader#leon kennedy x male reader#resident evil x male reader#mlm nsft#x bottom male reader#kinktober 2024#gun play
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Hello! I was wondering if I could request a Damian x reader? But u can totally ignore this if u want🧡
Damian and reader are best friends, they go to the same school, and she (or they) is very clingy. And one day she gets a really bad headache during school and sort of begins rubbing and resting her head against his shoulder for comfort. She sort of half expects him to push or ask her to get off but he surprisingly doesn't. He's like super worried for her bc she can hardly pay attention and is really sluggish idk
Have a nice day! 🧡
link to my masterlist <33
You and Damian had been best friends for as long as you could remember, ever since that fateful day he transferred into your school. Despite his rough edges and serious demeanor, you’d always found a way to break through his stoic exterior, much to the confusion of everyone around you. It wasn’t uncommon to see you clinging to Damian’s arm between classes, chatting away while he listened with a slight smile or an exasperated sigh.
Today, though, something felt off.
Your head had been pounding since the morning, and by the time lunch rolled around, it was almost unbearable. You barely managed to make it to the cafeteria, your usually energetic self reduced to sluggish movements and a throbbing headache that seemed to grow worse with every step.
“Are you okay?” Damian asked, his voice tinged with concern as he noticed your unusually slow pace.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, trying to wave off his worry. But even you could tell that your attempt at reassurance was half-hearted at best.
Damian’s eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced. He walked beside you, watching as you winced at the bright lights and the noise of the bustling cafeteria. When you finally sat down, you immediately rested your head against the cool surface of the table, hoping it would provide some relief.
“Y/N,” Damian’s voice was soft but insistent. “You don’t look fine.”
You lifted your head slightly to look at him, your vision blurring for a moment. “It’s just a headache. I’ll be okay.”
But as the lunch period went on, it became clear that you weren’t okay. The headache only worsened, and soon you found yourself leaning against Damian for support. You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in an attempt to block out the overwhelming stimuli around you.
Damian stiffened at the sudden contact, his body going rigid as you pressed against him. You half expected him to gently push you away, maybe make a sarcastic comment about you being overly clingy as usual. But to your surprise, he didn’t.
Instead, Damian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he turned his attention fully to you. “You should go to the nurse,” he whispered, his voice laced with worry.
You shook your head weakly, not wanting to move from your spot. “Just let me stay like this for a bit,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Damian’s expression softened, and he nodded, letting you rest against him without protest. His usual cool demeanor seemed to melt away as he watched you, his eyes filled with concern.
As the minutes passed, Damian gently rubbed your arm, a small, comforting gesture that helped ease some of the tension in your body. He kept a watchful eye on you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible despite the situation.
“Y/N,” he said quietly after a while, “If you’re not feeling better soon, I’m taking you to the nurse.”
You didn’t have the energy to argue, simply nodding in agreement. You were grateful for his presence, the steady warmth of his body against yours providing a sense of comfort amidst the pain.
For the rest of the lunch period, Damian stayed by your side, his protective nature shining through as he made sure you had everything you needed. When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, he helped you gather your things and walked with you to your next class.
“You should go home and rest,” Damian insisted as you reached the classroom. “I’ll tell the teacher you’re not feeling well.”
You looked up at him, touched by his concern. “Thank you, Damian,” you murmured, managing a small smile despite the pain.
He gave you a rare, genuine smile in return, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “You don’t need to thank me. I just want you to feel better.”
And with that, Damian led you to the nurse’s office, his hand never leaving yours as he made sure you were taken care of. Despite his usual aloofness, it was clear that when it came to you, Damian was willing to drop his guard and show just how much he cared.
#dc x you#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne fluff#damian wayne headcannons#damian wayne#daman wayne x fem!reader#damian wayne x gender neutral reader#damian wayne x male reader
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Sparring.
Jasper Hale x vampire!reader
Summary: As Jasper teaches how to fight the newborns, the reader and Bella talk about her past.
Words: 1,551
Warning: vampire stuff, talk of death, cursing
Author's note: I can't tell if I love it or hate it but here you go anyway!
Masterlist <3
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The famous silver jeep of the Cullen’s pulled up as she watched Emmett be thrown into the dirt.
The entire family turned as Edward and Bella stepped out of the car.
As they walk to the family, so do the wolves.
Each vampire held to their mate as they watched said wolves come out from the tree line. Soft growls came from their snouts from the obvious smell of vampires.
Jasper held on to her as they did so, his arms around her waist, his chest providing support against her back.
Edward stepped to Carlisle, “They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms.”
Carlisle nodded, “At least they came. That’s enough. Will you translate?”
Carlisle stepped towards the wolves, thanking them for coming before explaining that Jasper would be the teacher in this scenario.
Jasper’s loving mate smiled. She loved sparring as a family.
…
Some time passes and the girl now sits on the hood of the jeep next to Bella. She leans over, “I’ve always found this entertaining. Watching them, I mean…”
Bella smiled as Emmett flew threw the air once again. “I did have a question, if you don’t mind me asking…?”
The girl nods, anticipating what the human could possibly think of to ask.
“Jasper knows a lot about this kind of thing… I mean… Why is that exactly..?”
His mate shifts slightly, not expecting that question. “Well, Bella. I don’t feel that I’m the one that should tell you. Perhaps you should ask him. It’s… a horrid story, honestly. I’m not sure he’d want it out there, you know?”
Bella nods, “yeah, right. I get it… sorry.”
The girl’s head perks up at the sound of her name being called by Carlisle. “Oh, shit. My turn to go. Watch me, Bells?”
Bella grins, “Of course.”
…
Jasper stood confidently on the dirt ground, his eyes trained on the person in front of him.
His pretty mate.
She held the same look in her eyes.
They had sparred many times before. And they were both quite good. He taught her practically everything he knows.
The entire family gathered around to see how it would play out. Would they go easy on each other? Who would win?
It seemed the two held that look in their eyes as well as they tried to scope the other one’s thoughts.
Then he rushed her.
They were both incredible to watch as if they were dancing. Their bodies seemed to always know what the other would do, even when changing their fighting style. It seemed the two lovers truly knew each other in and out.
Eventually she slipped, and Jasper seized his opportunity, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him.
Pulled against his body, her face was mere inches from him. The tension between the two rose as his gaze fell to her lips. God, he couldn’t resist her even when he was pretending to be her enemy.
And she was no better.
She focused on the feeling of his strong grip, his sturdy fingers wrapped around her seemingly delicate wrist.
If they were alone, this sparring match would have escalated, like it usually does when they are so. But today, they simply stared at each other. Those who didn’t know them would assume they were calculating what the other might do next, but no. This family knew them quite well. And thank god no one else had Jasper’s gift, or the tension would bring a blush to their cheeks.
She gently leaned forward, their lips brushing. Jasper tilted his head down to receive her soft lips. But they never came.
She swept his leg out from under him, pinning him to the ground as she placed a knee on his chest.
She leaned down to his face, whispering softly in his ear, “What was that you said? Don’t get distracted?”
He smiled, letting his head fall back against the dirt.
She would be the death of him.
And he would love it.
…
The sparring continued the next day as she found herself sitting next to Bella on the hood of the car again.
She watched Jasper as he sparred with an admiring look in her eye. She loved the Major with all her heart.
Or, what was left of it anyway.
If it still pumped blood, she would be able to feel it beat for him.
“Do you mind if I ask you another question? A different one, this time?”
The girl nods, “Yeah, don’t see why not.”
Bella looks down at the dirt. “Can I ask what happened to you? How you… how you got here?”
She felt a breath come out of her unused lungs, “Oh. Yeah. ‘Course. It’s… not a pleasant story but any means… are you sure?”
The human nods, “Please. I’m trying to understand you guys better.”
The girl leans back slightly, regaining her bearings. “Alright. Well… I was born in 1941. I uh, grew up in the 50s. Not the best timing, obviously. Do you know much about the ’50’s, Bella?”
The human’s head tilts back and forth in thought, “A little. Civil rights and stuff..?”
“Yeah. Well, the Korean War was in the 50’s. There was this military guy that fell in love with me. And I to him. But… we, uh… how do I say this? He was… we were…?”
Bella leans forward, “…what? Just say it.”
“Well, we were different skin tones. And.. well, I don’t need to say much more. Anyway, there was this other man that decided he liked me. He was pigheaded and awful. I hated him. He tormented me everyday. I finally told him about the man that-“
“-what was his name?”
The girl’s head perked up, “Whose?”
Bella met her eyes, “…the one you loved.”
A deep sigh left the vampire’s lips, “…Johnathan.”
Bella nodded, leaning back again to let the girl continue her story.
“I told the man about… Johnathan and… the man began to tell everyone in town. It became the only thing anyone talked about until eventually…. Eventually...,” the girl’s voice faded out in thought. “…I’m sorry. I haven’t told this story in so long…”
“It’s alright. Take your time.”
“Thank you… uh… the man formed a mob and approached us in the park one day. Johnathan tried to protect me. And he did. Until they… killed him…” the girl stared at the ground, a somber look in her eyes. “…and the man ended up being a vampire… he changed me and… well… yeah.”
Bella nodded, “How did you find Carlisle?”
“Oh. Right. Uh, I was on the run… after I changed. I actually ran into him. Well, he ran into me. He…. He stood to where I would crash into him, so he could talk to me. He knew everything. He took me in. And I met Jasper…”
Her eyes wandered back to Jasper. His sleeves were pulled up, exposing the skin of his forearms, and the scars that resided there. He was so strong. So perfect. Her knight in shining armor.
Bella noticed the girl’s longing gaze and smiled to herself. “…how did you know he was the one?”
The girl turned back to Bella, “Oh. You just know, Bella. It’s… ugh, it’s this feeling you get in your heart. Like you’ve finally taken a breath after being underwater for years. Like your souls have intertwined and have become one. It’s… strange to put into words…”
Bella nods, “It sounds wonderful.”
She nods too, “Oh, it is. Edward feels that way about you.”
Bella looks up in surprise, “Really?”
She smiles, “Yeah. He told me that the day he met you. Like he couldn’t think around you. You… occupy all of his thoughts. You fascinate him.”
The human grins, “And that’s how Jasper feels?”
“-How I feel about what?”
Jasper had walked up to the two, a grin on his face. He leaned against the car on his side, his arm resting over his girl’s leg.
His mate smiled, “Perhaps it’s none of your business… girl things…”
Jasper scoffed, “Sure, darlin’. Anything you say.”
Her hand reached up to run it through his hair.
The three sat in silence for a while before the girl broke it. “I need to go back to the house. Help me down, Jas?”
He stood, reaching his arms out, gripping her waist to help her down. She was vampire. She didn’t need help. And they both knew that.
Bella scooted forward, “Wait, before you go…?”
The girl turned around in Jasper’s arms. “…Yeah?”
“What happened to him? …To the guy that…”
The girl’s lips pulled up into a smirk. Her head turned slightly to look at Jasper’s face that held the same knowing smirk of his own. “Well, Bella. He… got what he deserved…”
And with that, she walked away.
Bella gawked slightly, now focusing on Jasper, hoping he could illuminate on the situation.
But he continued to grin, watching his girl walk away.
Eventually, Jasper felt Bella’s confused emotion and turned to her. “I made a vow not to kill after I met her…”
Bella’s eyebrows knitted together, and Jasper’s smirk grew into a grin.
“…But I fucking killed him.”
And with that, silence overtook the forest as he continued to watch his girl walk away.
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#jasper hale imagine#jasper hale x reader#jasper hale x you#jasper hale fanfiction#jasper hale#twilight x y/n#twilight x reader#twilight imagines#twilight fanfiction#twilight#vampire imagine#vampire fanfiction#vampire
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UNEXPECTED LOVERBOY
-> in which you overhear your calm and secretive boyfriend gushing over you like there’s no tomorrow (1.1k wc)
Cw) gn!reader, manga characters (no spoilers), sakura still malfunctions when it comes to romance topics
Calling Hayato Suo an enigma would be an understatement.
Not a soul knows what lies under that eye patch. He’s calm, collected, and composed at almost all times, but it was a task of its own to grasp why. It’s impossible to catch him eating anything other than teacakes, and he often replaces his meals with a hot cup of tea. He claims to be on a diet, but every diet needs some protein incorporated into it.
Everything there is to know about Suo can be followed up with the same question: “Why?” and “What?”
However, there was an exception to his mysterious nature: You.
Of course, you didn’t know that. Hell, even Suo failed to notice his quite obvious soft spot for you until now. But as Nirei’s eye glittered with joy as he scribbled new notes onto Suo’s page in his notebook, and Sakura’s pupils shrunk with his cheeks flaunting a new shade of red, everyone knew.
Hayato Suo’s in love.
“(Name’s) a beauty, really. They may be rough around the edges at times, but I’ve never met anyone with a soul like theirs,” he babbled uncharacteristically.
He brought his teacup to his lips with closed eyes, missing the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. But the moment he opened them, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “What’s with the shocked faces?”
Umemiya coughed into his hand graciously. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all,” he began, too immersed in the conversation to notice you entering Kotoha’s cafe. “It’s not often you ramble like this.”
“I didn’t know Suo could be so open about his feelings,” Nirei exclaimed with a smile. “You must reallyyyy like (Name), huh?” he questioned, holding his pen in one hand and notebook in another as if this were an interview.
Suo’s head tilted. “Of course I do, that’s why I’m dating them.”
“You’ve been rambling on and on about (Name) for almost 10 minutes, it’s gross,” Sakura grumbled with flushed cheeks.
“But we wanna hear more! Keep going,” Nirei added.
Everyone looked at Suo attentively, including you. Somehow, the group failed to hear the bell chime when you entered the cafe. You’re clueless as to what’s going on, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it had something to do with you considering the amount of times your name was thrown around.
“My, if you insist,” Suo chuckled. “But I fear I’ve already said it all, unless I forgot to mention how cute it is when their cheeks puff up when they’re annoyed?”
Sakura held his head in his hands in fear that it’d melt off with how hot his face felt. “No, you didn’t. But we get it! You love (Name)!” he shouted.
“They’re impossible not to love,” Suo commented with his usual calm smile.
“That’s just Sakura’s romance sensor going haywire,” Kiryu teased. “Don’t mind him.”
The split-haired boy sulked in his seat, trying to dismiss the heat he felt on his face. “You’re all so…”
His voice trailed off, catching a glimpse of your frame standing behind Suo.
“Su-“
“Trust me, if you were in my shoes you’d be doing the same thing. (Name’s) one of a kind, not to mention beautiful. I can’t imagine a life without them, honestly.” The brunette went on, unbeknownst of your looming presence behind him. “Anyone can fall in love if their heart is stolen.”
“Someone like Suo being so head over heels in love… it must feel like a fairytale for (Name),” Umemiya chimed.
“Oh trust me, it does.”
Everyone’s heads turned to face you, except Sakura, who had noticed you seconds prior.
“(Name)?!”
“I didn’t know I could be such a fun subject of conversation, Hayato.” you teased, hands resting on your boyfriend’s shoulders as you leaned down to his ear.
He gulped, hiding his flustered heart through his relaxed exterior.
“We were just talking about you!” Nirei said happily. “Is it true? That Suo never lets you hold doors open, and holds them open for you? Or that he gave you his umbrella when it was pouring rain because he’d rather get soaked than risk you getting sick?” Oh! What about-“
The boy in question sat in silence, allowing Nirei to ask his heart away to confirm that this wasn’t one of his absurd lies.
You nodded at the blonde. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Except he technically kept the umbrella- he just held it over me so my hands wouldn’t get cold,” you corrected, recalling the awful weather of that day.
“What a romantic~” Tsubaki swooned.
“I try my best,” Suo smiled shyly.
“Suo never talks about his life! This is the most he’s ever told us, (Name)! Does he talk to you about his personal life?” Nirei inquired politely, trying not to make you feel pressured into answering.
You thought for a moment. For one, you felt honored that Suo didn’t wanna keep your relationship a secret like the rest of his life. But the blonde’s question made you realize something yourself- you really didn’t know much about your boyfriend’s personal life.
“Well… what can I say? He’s a mystery to everyone, including me.” you replied unsurely, glancing at Suo from the corner of your eye.
“Interesting…”
Nirei wrote something down in his notebook, and you didn’t bother looking. Instead, you held eye contact with Suo. He didn’t have to speak for you to know what he was thinking.
He wasn’t hiding anything from you. He just didn’t like talking about his past, and you understood.
“My love, you know more about me than anyone else in this room,” he stood after finishing the contents of his teacup. “After all, you were the one who told me to take baby steps, correct?”
You vaguely recalled those words. It was weeks ago, but he felt guilty for not telling you or anyone else about his history. In response, you told him to take as long as he needed, and baby steps were always the first steps.
“I did,” you affirmed. Your voice was soft, but it didn’t hide your intentions of making his heart pound a little harder. “But I didn’t think I'd catch you gushing over me like you’ve lost your composure~”
Suo almost broke, and you laughed.
“Woah, is Suo blushing?”
“Who could blame the guy? It’s the most open he’s been with us,” Hiragi commented with truth.
Kotoha giggled from behind the counter. “Not to mention how close (Name) is to him right now, it might be too much for the poor boy to handle.”
The red in Suo’s cheeks slowly faded, and he let out a small sigh. “I’ll see you all later, we’re gonna get going now,” he waved.
The two of you walked out hand in hand, and everyone else was left either baffled, confused, or unphased. Unless it was Sakura, who was somehow all three.
Little did you know, Nirei left a small comment on the corner of Suo’s page in his notebook.
‘Quite the loverboy.’
© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.
#wind breaker#windbreaker#windbre#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker x reader#windbre x reader#windbreaker fluff#suo hayato#suou hayato#suo x reader#suo hayato x reader#suo fluff#dor writes
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