#thank you anon for this wonderful ask that i had the absolute time of my life writing
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when solomon has sex with you for the first time, he makes sure to absolutely worship your body. during the first kiss scene with him, he said he's been waiting for a chance to do it. so with this, he's going to make sure his patience will pay off. not an inch of your skin will be unloved by him. it may have taken so long, but the end result will be perfect as the two of you are satisfied, love growing by the second
(Ooh, thank you for the food, anon!! Solomon's first kiss scene will forever have my heart) Reader is GN! :)
Minors DNI!
"Why don't you come just a little closer?"
You shift a little closer until there's no space between you two on the bed, and his lips are back on yours. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, softly rubbing his thumb along to solidify in his mind that you are here and that this is happening.
Somehow, miraculously, he finally got you alone...and you want him too.
Though he fears he'll get too eager and move too fast for your liking, leading to crossing a boundary or scaring you away. So, he's careful, treating you as if you were glass, slow to do anything more than kiss you like this. Truthfully, he could just do this all night and he'd still be over the moon. But he can't deny in his heart the need for more.
His hand on your jaw slowly slides down your neck, simply letting his fingertips brush against the sensitive skin. It's warm, and he can feel your pulse thrumming just beneath. He wonders how it would feel against his lips.
Solomon reluctantly pulls away from your lips, leaning down to instead kiss along the column of your neck. It elicits a soft gasp, and he feels giddy that he can get such a cute response from you. It only serves him to want to hear more. A secondary motive.
With each article of clothing he removes from your body, he falls deeper in love as he sees his person bared completely to him. It signifies the trust you've built together. And he'll do everything to never lose it - a promise he quietly makes to himself.
From your neck, he lavishes kisses along your collarbones, down both of your arms, your shallowly rising and falling chest, your soft stomach, all the way down to your naval. Any further is iffy territory and he wants explicit permission before he does anything more.
Through a husky tone, he asks, "is this okay? Can I continue?"
Your approval and reassurance are resounding. The weight of worry eases a little, but he's still tentative to continue. He wants you to feel good. He wants this first time with you to be perfect. He can't help it, he's an ancient sorcerer in love for the first time in a very long time...if ever.
So, slowly, he ventures onward to where he sees the obvious impact he's had on you tonight. His talented silver tongue makes you squirm on the bed, your hands tangling in his soft locks as his name tumbles out of your mouth like a prayer. The taste of your sweet arousal is something he fears he could get addicted to.
Solomon can feel his own arousal growing past anything he's ever experienced before. He didn't know he had the capacity to feel so needy for someone else. Good lord, just what are you doing to him?
Once he feels he's prepped and pleasured you enough with his tongue and dexterous fingers, he pulls away to finally undress and bare himself to you. His eyes shift away nervously as he feels you studying his body now. He knows his skin is marred from centuries of living; the countless pact marks, scars he doesn't remember the stories of, and burns from experiments gone wrong. He's never felt self-conscious like this before, but it's another product of what you do to him.
When you sit up on the bed, crawling to him to brush your fingers along his skin, it takes his breath away. You aren't afraid to explore him. Tracing his pact marks, kissing his imperfections, never once showing disgust like he might've thought.
No, only care.
Solomon gently chases you back down onto the bed, crawling over your excited form with smiles and giggles exchanged in the otherwise quiet room. Once again, he gets your staunch permission before continuing. And once again, you reassure him that this is what you want. Any lingering doubt subsides, and with that, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly slides in, letting you adjust once he's fully settled within you.
"D-Deus meus..."
His forehead rests against yours as his breathing turns ragged, reveling in how goddamn good you feel around him. It takes all of him to be patient, but he waits for your signal, and once he has it, he doesn't hesitate to start moving.
His hips snap against yours in deep, measured thrusts. Passionate kisses are shared, soft moans and grunts fill your ears, and his hands never once stop exploring your body. The love he gave it earlier wasn't nearly enough.
There's no rush. It's not frantic - it's not even desperate. It's slow and intimate as he guarantees you both feel good in this one moment of solitude.
Solomon isn't even thinking about afterwards or what those brothers might say. He's fully entranced by you. He makes love to you as if it's the last time he ever will.
Soon he brings you both to a mind-shattering orgasm. His body shudders above yours as he buries his face in your neck. The way you clench around him makes him consider asking for a second round. Though, he wants to take a break more - to love and care for you as needed. As carefully as he can, he pulls out, already missing being enveloped by you and your sweet body. The second his fatigued self hits the bed, you instantly cuddle up to him, locking him in place for the foreseeable future.
To say he's a little shocked is an understatement. Sure, you both just shared a moment of passion and pleasure, but there was still some part of him that wondered if you really wanted him. For you to take the initiative to cuddle up to him in the afterglow touches his heart. Solomon wraps his arms around you, humming at the shared warmth between your sweaty bodies and shielding you from the world outside of this room.
Tonight you're his. And he knows he'll always be yours.
#it be latin: deus meus - my god#couldn't help myself hehe#i dropped some angst into this but it's find and seek where's waldo edition... i.e. meaning it's not a lot#what's a little sex scene without a little sadness am i right?#edit: this is so hypnosis by sleep token coded#edit 2: i made some very minor changes because i wasn't completely happy with it the first time so if it's a little different that's why :p#obey me#obey me smut#obey me shall we date#obey me solomon#obey me solomon smut#solomon smut#obey me solomon x reader#jo writes spice
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Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)
Office Doors
Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world
warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen
carmen berzatto x reader!
(This is totally and completely canon btw)
You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.
You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.
You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.
It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.
And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.
The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.
Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.
You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.
Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.
One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.
You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.
They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.
Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.
Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's.
“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him.
Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you, as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.
You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in.
You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.
You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.
“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.
The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively
“I definitely want something”
You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.
“You’re food will be out in a short-while-”
“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation
“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile
“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.
“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer
You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.
You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.
“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.
“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh
“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.
You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.
The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.
“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath
“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.
“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.
“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.
“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up.
The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.
The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened.
Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.
Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.
“What did he just say?”
“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.
The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.
“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.
A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died.
And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.
The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice.
It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.
“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.
Carmen wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.
His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry.
Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.
“Apologise”
“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony.
“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs”
The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen, at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.
“Do you accept? Huh honey?”
You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.
The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.
The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.
“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.
Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement
“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.
You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.
The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen.
By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.
No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you.
Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.
“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.
“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.
Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“
“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.
Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.
“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.
You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it.
“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them.
His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you.
The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air.
It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle.
You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.
Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him.
Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.
“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.
“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.
“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.
“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips
“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.
You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them.
“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.
“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt.
He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.
Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.
Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.
Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.
“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him.
Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.
“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you,
“Let them”
Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud.
You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.
“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over
Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.
Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.
“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.
“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.
Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.
You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds.
You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.
Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.
The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again.
You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him.
He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.
You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.
You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.
Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.
Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.
As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait
“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust”
“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.
You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him.
It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much.
You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.
This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.
“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.
You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.
The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.
You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.
Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.
Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.
The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.
You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.
You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss.
Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.
You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.
After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.
“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise
“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.
“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.
“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.
“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.
“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”
“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover
“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does”
Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.
“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.
“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.
“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.
You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.
#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto request#neo november#neo writes#requests open#carmy the bear#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x angst#carmy x fem!reader#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x angst#carmen berzatto smut#carmy#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto filth#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#the bear fanfiction#the bear 2022#the bear season 2
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So this is a weird ask but I figured an Actual Welsh Person would be the person to go to, and you've been pretty gung-ho about the language thing. So I hope I'm not bothering you with this.
Is there a cultural consensus on foreigners learning Welsh? I'm American and I don't have a single shred of Welsh ancestry. My family is historically German, and we've been here since the English Colony days, so it honestly seems really weird even to try to claim some tie to German heritage.
Anyway, my point is, I have absolutely zero legitimate claim to the Welsh language. I don't plan to travel to Wales in the foreseeable future. I have no reason to learn Welsh except that it sounds pretty and I enjoy a challenge.
Putting aside the issue of "lmao it's gonna be stupid difficult to learn an endangered language if you don't have anyone to speak it with" (I have a loose plan for dealing with that, and the experience of learning two languages to "can read most novels without needing the dictionary" level without anyone to speak them with in person already) entirely, do you reckon it's okay for me to study Welsh? I know Americans are really, really bad about just kinda assuming the whole world belongs to us, and I'm trying not to do that here. Especially because Welsh IS endangered.
I imagine your average Welsh person probably doesn't care what some random American does. But like, for people who care about the language...Would it be considered disrespectful or overstepping for me to study it? I don't expect you to speak for the entire country, of course, but I respect your opinion and I feel like you'd have a grasp on what the general feeling towards a foreigner like me might be.
Thanks for your time.
I honestly, truly, do not understand how the discussion around cultural appropriation has been twisted in the cultural zeitgeist to such an extent that people now feel anxiety about learning other languages.
This is not a personal attack on you, Anon - the gods only know that you clearly care and want to do the right thing, and that's beautiful and wonderful and also I will come back to extolling your personal virtues at the end of this post, so stay tuned. But I do want to take a moment here to talk about the broader issue at play, which I have seen echoed multiple times elsewhere, because fuck me what are we doing to ourselves.
Learn. Languages.
That is what languages are for! To be used for communication. If you don't learn languages, you are forcing everyone else to use yours. How have we somehow, as a culture, twisted that into being the less selfish option? How have we done that? I posted my favourite Welsh idiom recently, and someone reblogged it and wrote in the tags that they loved the idiom and would start using it, but they would do so in English because their "Welsh pronunciation would make their Welsh grandmother spin in her grave."
What kind of mental gymnastics is that?
How the fuck do you twist it so badly that you think taking a Welsh idiom for your own and exclusively using it in English is less offensive than saying it in Welsh but maybe a bit wrong? I've literally had people proclaim to me that they're learning Welsh on Duolingo but they never speak it because they're too self-conscious, and they tell me this not to highlight a massive flaw in themselves that they need to work on, but as though I'm supposed to pat them on the head and thank them for... still making me speak English to them.
There was that post where a Deaf blogger received an anonymous ask saying learning sign language is cultural appropriation, as though Deaf people haven't been calling for Sign to be taught in schools. As though a Deaf person being entirely isolated in everyday hearing society unless they have an interpreter with them is less offensive than a hearing person being able to use BSL.
Like, these are not sacred or religious languages. The purpose of Welsh or BSL or what have you is not to perform the Eleusinian mysteries. It's a living everyday language, same as English -
Except it's not the same as English. As Anon here so rightly points out, Welsh is endangered. That means we are desperate for people to learn it. That's how it will survive. That's how we reversed it from 'dying language' to 'living language', in fact - we managed to get lots of people to learn it. You know what is a threat, though? People not learning it because, like poor Anon here, they've been somehow convinced by Western society that you're only allowed to learn languages if you personally have a historic or cultural connection to them that you can prove via six forms of ID and a letter of recommendation from a druid. Or people never using it because they're too embarrassed to try and risk losing face by getting it wrong, or maybe sounding a bit silly, and thus forcing us to use English anyway. Those are threats.
Anon. Listen to me, feel the sincerity of my words: we adore you. We adore you. You cannot imagine how appreciated it is when someone learns Welsh. You cannot imagine how touched we are that you wanted to, that you tried, that you respected us enough and considered us valid enough that you made the effort. Our closest neighbours are the very people who are still trying to stamp out Welsh to this very day. Do you know the number 1 reaction I get, by a country mile, when I tell English people that I speak Welsh? It's some variant on a scoff, and the sentiment "Why? What's the point? Bit useless, isn't it?"
By a country mile. That's the reaction I expect, and brace for, and is overwhelmingly what I get.
So when someone who isn't Welsh actually chooses to learn Welsh?
Imagine what that feels like! To go from not-even-hidden disgust, from outright mockery and often active suppression campaigns, to a foreigner earnestly telling me that they love and respect my language so much they're trying to learn it. Imagine how that feels.
Please learn Welsh. Please learn it. We will love you for it. We will build you a statue. We will bake little Welshcakes with your face on in icing sugar. We will write you poems in complex rhyme. We'll name an Eisteddfod prize after you. We'll name at least, like, three sheep after you. Thank you, thank you so much for even wanting to learn. You're a delight and a marvel and a wonder. Your hair looks great today, as it does all days. You're a strong, independent human being of immense wisdom and compassion. If this were a Welsh myth you'd be a wise salmon the heroes came to for advice. What a fantastic human.
The welcome awaits if you choose to learn
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Hi Neil.
I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.
First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.
So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…
Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)
Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.
Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.
(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)
I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.
But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.
I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.
But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.
I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.
It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.
I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.
My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”
But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.
In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.
Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”
As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.
I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…
The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.
So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.
People always say “it’s never too late.”
One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”
I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”
It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.
Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”
But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.
Whew.
So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.
And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.
Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.
Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)
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Would it be possible if you could do a g!p wandanat x female reader with sex pollen?? Its okay if you cant, just an idea if you have nothing else to write🫣🤭
Blue glow - WandaNat
DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY
Summary: Curiosity and alien flowers work wonders.
Pairing: G!PWandaNat × fem!R
Warnings:NSWF,SMUT SMUT SMUT, handjob, blowjob, breeding kink, threesome, cockwarming, dirty talk, after care
DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES
Word count: 1.7k
AN: hi anon! I’m glad to see my first request thank you! honestly, until that moment I didn’t know what sex pollen is and I had to turn to google lmao
"What is that?." You asked looking at the strange plant in the pot. "Have you decided to take up gardening? Tony, I thought you weren't old enough to act like my grandma." You stop laughing when the man looks at you sternly, apparently not appreciating the jokes about his age. “This, by the way, is a plant unknown to science (at least on Earth), which I personally grew from seeds strictly for research and not what you just said.” “Okay let’s say it’s like this, let me take a closer does it smell like something?” You also kept a couple of cacti in your room at the Avengers headquarters, which recently bloomed by the way. As soon as you stood up and approached to the pot, a man blocked your way. “Are you crazy, what did I just say? Don’t touch this thing, I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not.” You looked at him sternly and muttered under your breath so that he could also hear, “You said not to touch, not to smell.” The attempt failed.
late Friday evening. Everyone went to their rooms or left the headquarters altogether. There was silence everywhere, only the sounds of Wanda’s steps were heard somewhere in the corridor. The woman had almost reached her destination when she saw some kind of blue glow in the darkness, “What the fuck...”. She came closer and examined some kind of plant that vaguely resembled a flycatcher, but with more spherical “traps.” Then she suddenly remembered...
“Y/N, Natasha, come here let’s hurry up. Y/N, you told me about something in Tony’s office. Check it out, Natasha take a look too.” Apparently the witch was very impressed by the flower, because she excitedly pulled both of you by the hands towards the light source. And where did she get this passion for flora…
“Wanda, we were already getting ready to go to bed, what did you see there?” Nat suddenly fell silent, looking at the strange light. “Did you seriously drag me out of bed for this succulent or what is this?!” She clearly did not share the witch's interest. “Oh, you’re right, this is the flower I told you about. Tony takes such good care of it, and apparently it’s...bloomed? Let’s take a closer and look, it’s cool,” Nat rolled her eyes but followed you two. You raised your face to the flower, wanting to look at it, when suddenly... the ball of the bud opened releasing pollen into the air, apparently from which the light came.
There is absolutely everything around in this stuff, you can hear Natasha’s exclamations: “Don’t breathe in this, it can be poisonous. Damn it, I told you not to come here.” The three of you cough, covering your faces, and go out into the corridor, shaking yourself and each other from the remaining dust. “Now you make me need to take a shower again.” The woman grumbles something else while Wanda calms her down, you also want to answer, but suddenly this feeling comes.
If there was a mirror in front of you right now, you could appreciate how quickly your pupils are dilating, as if you were a drug addict on a high (technically you were), beads of sweat are rolling off your forehead and this pulsation between your legs is as if you were given a dose of an aphrodisiac multiplied by five times. Oh no this is definitely not normal, you need to tell Wanda and Natasha what is happening apparently because of this cute glowing flower. While you were in your thoughts you didn't notice how the swearing died down and both women also noticed the changes.
When you turned your head, you saw two women looking at you with hunger and tents in their pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of the obvious bulge on both of your girlfriends and you impatiently walked over to Wanda, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Oh God, I don't know what it is, but I need you both so bad." Natasha came up from behind, pressing her rock-hard dick to your ass, her arms wrapped around your waist and the redhead’s whisper was heard in your ear. "Oh don't worry baby you'll get what you want.Damn I'm going to die if I don't fill your pretty pussy at least twice. What do you think Wanda?"
You feel the soft material of the sheets as they throw you on the bed, watching as they take off their clothes and look at you as if you were their prey. Your own panties are already hopelessly ruined, lub flows down your thighs at the sight of your girlfriends.
You quickly take of your clothes after which Nat takes you in her arms, pressing a kiss on your lips, you feel her cock poking into your stomach and dripping with pre-cum. Wanda, meanwhile stands behind stroking her length at this spectacle. "Mmm..Nat please." You rock your hips to rub against her cock, but you are suddenly pulled to your feet and forced to your knees.
"No no, first you're going to take every inch of my dick into your mouth, baby." The tip of her cock pressed against your lips and you obediently open your mouth and shake your head along entire length. Wanda can’t just watch anymore and comes up to you, takes your hand and places it on her pulsating length. "Come on baby, jerk off Wanda you can't leave either of us needy. Damn Wanda her mouth feels so good around me. That's such a good cocksucker." You move your hand and rub your thumb over Wanda's sensitive red tip as she begins to rock into your hand. Tears well up in your eyes when Natasha grabs your hair and shuts your mouth. Wanda helps you jerk her off and grins, “What is it baby girl? Is Nat’s dick too big for you? You’re so beautiful, now I want to cum all over your face.”
Natasha began to shamelessly fuck your mouth, running after her orgasm, the head of her dick hitting the back wall of your throat every time. "That's itmbaby, I'm going to cum in your beautiful fucking mouth and you'll swallow every drop. Wanda, are you close? Cum with me." Your hand was thrown away so that Wanda could jerk herself off, cumming all over your face, ropes of Natasha's cum hit your throat and you breathed through your nose as you swallowed every drop as you were told.
You took a deep breath as the redhead pulled out of your mouth and wiped Wanda's release off your face. When you were lifted from the floor, a small puddle of your arousal remained on it, your legs did not obey and your knees were red. You were already dripping and the pitiful whining and pleas left your mouth without hindrance. “Please it hurts so much, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
"What do you think Wanda, I think she deserves to have you fill her pussy." The witch got off with a simple nod as her two strong hands forced you onto all fours on the bed, allowing her to position herself behind you so she could start pounding into you without warning. "God Nat, her pussy was made for my cock, so greedy and tight. You need to see how well she takes me." Nat, meanwhile, spat on her hand for extra lub and stroked her red sensitive tip, appreciating how good the two of you looked. The long-awaited feeling of filling and Wanda’s quick thrusts drove you crazy, you put your hand under you, stimulating your swollen clit. "Yes yes thank you thank you so good fuck I'm gonna cum can I cum?" You know that with the tip of Wanda’s cock deliciously hitting that nice spot inside you, you wouldn’t last long, and having received approval, a minute later the orgasm hit you with incredible force. "Oh yes Y/N you squeeze my cock so well. Oh my God, cum for me like that, cum all over my length." The witch praised you.
You were turned over again and your back touched the cool sheets. Wanda pounding into you hearing a cute whine from your mouth, "Too sensitive. It's too much." "Oh baby girl you can take it. I need to filled this tight pussy so badly. You want my cum inside don't you? Do you love this cock?" "Yes yes I love so fucking much!". Natasha continued to jerk herself off when a cute little idea popped into her head that she only bothered to tell the witch about. The women looked at each other and Wanda nodded in approval of the plan.
The witch's thrusts became faster and she exploded, releasing her load inside you. “Oh yeah baby fuck take all my cum!” The feeling of fullness and how good it was, was the only thing you could think about. Wanda, meanwhile, pulled out of you, giving way to the redhead. Natasha turned you around, taking you by the hips and jerking off her cock, she stuck only the tip inside you, filling you even more. "Oh fuck fuck I'm so full fuck Natasha!" “That’s it my little greedy girl, I know you love it when I fill you up .” The only sounds in the room were heavy sighs and Nat's little whining as she pulled out and looked at the beautiful picture in front of her.
You were lying on your shared bed, Wanda took napkins from the nightstand and carefully wiped all the liquids from your thighs, kissing you and telling you how good you are and how much she loves you. When the witch finished, Natasha threw a robe over your naked body, picked you up, kissing your cheeks and carried you to the bathroom so they could both take care of you the way you truly deserve.
Sitting in a hot bubble bath, you asked, “How do we tell Tony about the pollen effect of his science experiment?”
#natasha x reader#wanda fanfic#wanda maximoff x reader#wandanat#wanda maximoff imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha x you#wanda x you#wandanat x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff x reader
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Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters pt.3
Genshin x Fem!Reader
Genre: ☁️
Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!
featuring: Itto, Tighnari, Lyney
synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!
Notes: for itto you are part of the L/N (last name) clan, for tighnari you are a forest ranger and for lyney you are his wonderful assistant!!
a/n: thank you anon for the request I enjoy writing these and it makes me giggle with I write them because I feel like I can imagine them happening....anyways enjoy lovlies!!
Itto
The Traveller and Paimon had found themselves in Inazuma again, this time just for some fun.
To their suprise one of the first people they encountered was the infamous Arataki Gang having what seemed to be a meeting in the middle of nowhere making an absolute ruckus with Shinobu stood with her arms crossed wishing she was somewhere else.
"Alright, gang! Today's meeting is super important! We gotta decide what to buy for our new, amazing, drop dead gorgeous, special member....AKA my girlfriend!" Arataki Itto's voice echoed.
"Well, if it isn't Bull Chucker! Fancy seeing you hear...making a LOT of noise as usual...." Itto turned his head and noticed the Traveller and Paimon making their way to where he was stood, a beam making its way on his face.
"Well, if it's isn't my amigos, the Traveller and little Lavender Melon Paimon!!" he boomed out.
"Hello, Traveller and Paimon it is nice to see you once again." Kuki said calmly in contrast to Itto's voice.
"Hey guys! Nice to see you too! What are you all up too? You seem awfully excited Itto....well more excited than usual..." Paimon asked with confusion.
"Well I am glad you asked, we have a newest member who also happens to be-"
Before Itto could finish his sentence, you approached, holding a pot that steamed with a delicious aroma.
You had a confident yet gentle smile on your face as Itto looked at you mesmerised. The Traveller definitely didn't miss this romantic gaze.
"Sorry I'm late, everyone," you said, setting the pot down. "I brought food for everyone too eat!"
"Y/N! You're just in time! Everyone, meet Y/N from the L/N clan AND my girlfriend. She has joined the Arataki gang to be in charge of making meals, since she loves to cook for people!"
"Hello all, nice to meet you. I have heard so much about you! All good things don't worry!" You chuckle as Paimon and The traveller looked back and forth between you and Itto looking stunned.
"The L/N clan?!?! How on earth did you pull a member of the rich, powerful and famous L/N clan? I suppose your good at some things...."
"HUH?! Shut it Lavender Melon!! The way we met isn't important-"
"Oh, it's rather romantic, don't you think Itto!" you wrapped your arm around Itto's after interrupting him and resting your head on his arm, as he sweatdropped.
"He broke into my residence to get some flowers, but I caught him and then we got chatting and obviously I fell in love with him!"
"WHAT?!?!?" Paimon and The traveller shouted as you and Kuki laughed and Itto couldn't look up.
"What can I say....I am a charisma king, I must say!"
Tighnari
Despite being in a relationship with the smartest person you know, his knowledge clearly didn't rub off on you because you felt like you were getting dumber by the day.
It all started when Tighnari had asked you and Collei to go identify some mushrooms to distinguish if the were edible or not to update the Avidya Forest Survival Guide.
After seeing a mushrooms that 'had to be edible' in your terms you decided to take a bite. Whilst the flavour was lovely to start off the with dizziness that came after was a clear indicator that it was probably poisonous
"Collei! Who is this and what's going on?!" you see through your lidded eyes a high pitched flying fairy and someone who looks like they are from out of Teyvat.
"Traveller, Paimon! Perfect timing! There is no time to explain but please help me take her to Master Tighnari!!"
Next thing you know you pass out completely and wake up with Tighnari sat on your bed checking your temperature and checking for any rashes.
"Tigh...nari??" you mumble reaching for him as he holds your hand.
"Ah Y/N, you are awake. Now what did I tell you and what have I always told you about the mushrooms you eat? What made you think eating this mushroom would benefit you! You have to listen to me or worse things could happen and you-" He stopped rambling and let out a big sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm sorry, Nari...I promise I won't do it again..." you were now sat up looking guilty as he engulfed you in a hug that you reciprocated.
"Don't worry, just....be careful. I don't want to lose you."
"AHEM!!! Sorry to interrupt but the are still 2 very confused people stood here!!" Paimon burst out.
"My apologies, this Y/N a forest ranger and my girlfriend, she also takes care of Collei from time to time. Y/N, this is the Traveller and Paimon that I have told you about." Tighnari casually said patting your head as he got up to go to his table.
"Hey guys! It is a pleasure to meet you! I apologise for the circumstances...I can be rather clumsy at times..." you chuckle slightly as you sweatdropped.
"Nice to meet you too! I hope we become close friends! We didn't know you had a girlfriend Tighnari....it must be refreshing since you are opposites"
"Quite! It Master Tighnari says no about something I can go to Master Y/N and she will say yes!!" Collei happily exposes you and herself as you sweatdrop and Tighnari's head snaps back.
"COLLEI!!" both you and Tighnari shout as the Traveller and Paimon sit there chuckling.
Lyney
It was very dark at night and the Traveller and Paimon had just finished doing a commission for Katheryne and decided that the weather was nice enough to go on a scenic walk.
What they didn't expect to see on a cliff was a figure who looked like Lyney and another figure opposite him sat on a picnic blanket.
After some consideration they both mutually decided to approach you both.
What they didn't know is that you and Lyney were on a date, something you barely went on due to being busy. Lyney was the most romantic person you know and he always knew how to show you magic that you had never seen before that sent your heart aflame.
"My dearest rainbow rose, it pains me we cannot spend time together as romantically as we used to...when we are at work we are forced to keep is hidden..."
He holds your hands tightly and when he removes them a rainbow rose was in one hand and a box of expensive chocolates was in your other's you embrace each other.
"Uhhh, I hope we aren't interrupting anything...." Paimon suddenly speaks up scaring you both as you jolt away from each other pretending nothing happened.
"O-oh Traveller and Paimon!! What are you doing here?? I mean nice to see you again...." Lyney chuckles nervously as he hadn't intended for anyone to see him and you. You relationship was secret after all.
"Nice to see you too....but we should be asking what you are doing here embracing a woman!! And why do you look suspicious?!" Paimon laid all the questions on him, he let out a sigh giving up.
"Well, this woman here is Y/N, my personal assistant and also....my girlfriend. We have been keeping our relationship secret because it's a personal thing we don't want others to see."
"Hello Traveller and Paimon! It's lovely to meet you! Lyney has nothing but praises for you both!" you speak up smiling warmly.
"Hi there Y/N, nice to meet you too!! We are shocked you have a girlfriend Lyney considering how secretive you are...."
Lyney let out a heartly laugh intertwining his hand with yours.
"Well, I too would've said that 1 year ago but Y/N managed to steal a magicians heart, the hardest trick of all." Lyney looks at you lovingly as you look back at him lovingly too.
"Well, you guys are so wholesome and sweet, we are in support of your secret-"
"CLICK!!"
Everyones head snapped around to see Charlotte the Journalist taking pictures.
"CHARLOTTE NO!!" everyone shouted as The Traveller and Paimon sais their farewells and quickly caught her making sure she deleted those photos for good.
~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~
a/n: thank you once again for the amazing request and if anyone wants anymore of these or anything help lemme know and I'll try my best!! love you all 💜🌙💜🌙💜🌙
#anime#anime fluff#anime x reader#fyp#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#itto x you#arataki itto#genshin itto#itto x reader#genshin impact itto#genshin#tighnari x you#tighnari x reader#tighnari#genshin tighnari#lyney x you#lyney#genshin lyney#lyney x reader#genshin impact lyney#genshin headcannons#genshin headcanons#genshin hcs
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hiiii!! omg i love ur work sm it just scratches an itch i’ve had forever, i’ve always loved the dom reader + sub male character relationship and ur work is perfect! if it’s okay could i be 🌺 anon if you use the emoji system for that?
i have a request if ur taking them atm, i saw ur sub kenji oneshots and i was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a subby kenji x reader w a lot of miscommunication or general angst bc that’s my absolute fave!! w all the smut you want ofc!
and if you don’t want to take the request that’s totally cool! i really just wanted to tell you ur writing is amazing and ily!
— 🌺
hello! thanks for ur request :] and of course u can be 🌺 anon! i also love angst, more so the hurt/comfort trope, but i'm really bad at writting it (╥‸╥) so this was my attempt to write a hurt/comfort fic for the first time. hope u like it! i'll practice to make it better next time (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
p.s.: i didn't add much smut, mostly because my brain is fried :p
NOT ALONE
pairing: ultraman: rising — ken sato x fem!reader
word counting: 2.7k
content warning: arguing | kenji is so stressed :( | riding | unprotected sex | masturbation (female)
side note: english is not my first lenguage, so i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes
You notice, of course you notice.
You love and care for Kenji too much to not notice the dark circles under his eyes because of the lack of sleep; the way he's been more sensitive, even over the most little things; how he overworks himself in his baseball practices and won't stop unless Mina turns the stadium hologram off.
You knew how his relationship with his father was, but you have seen the way he declines his calls without a second thought now, knowing the guilt trip he had to overcome before he even hit the decline button on his watch before.
You notice, and of course you're worried about it. You didn't have to be his girlfriend to be worried. Hell, you would even be worried by just seeing him walk like a zombie in the streets as a stranger! And all that worry is what brings you in front of his mansion door at midnight.
He hasn't been answering your messages nor calls. You get it, he's a busy baseball player, but he always made at least a few minutes to reply to your messages, mostly saying sorry for not picking up your calls and that he'll call you back after he's done with an interview, telling you that he loves you.
After ringing his doorbell, you only had to wait for a few minutes before you could hear the hurried footsteps coming to the door. Opening it, there he was. With his adorable bed head, he looked up at you, tired eyes wide with surprise.
"Baby" his voice cracked, making him clear his throat before he talks again. "Hey baby, uhm...I didn't know that you were coming!" he laughs nervously.
"Well...I did text you" you shake your phone, and Kenji gulps.
"I..." he sighs, "I'm sorry baby. I just been...so busy later" he groans, rubbing a hand over his face with fatigue.
"I understand, Kenji. May I come in? I just wanna talk with you. It's been a while"
Kenji looks at you through his sleepy eyes, and even in that state, you were able to see the way his eyes softened at the sight of you. It really has been a while. He reaches a hand to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb.
"Of course" he mumbles, low but loud enough for you to hear him. He moves his hand from your face to your hand, taking it and pulling you softly inside, closing the door behind him.
You guys walk over the kitchen. Kenji lets go of your hand to walk over the fridge. "Do you want anything?" he asks, referring to the fridge's content.
[Name] sucks in a breath, gathering courage to speak. "Yeah, I'd like for us to talk" she finally said, noticing how Kenji's shoulder tense as he close the door's fridge, staying there with a can of soda in his head, not facing her. "For you to talk to me, Kenji. I believe you when you say you're busy with baseball, I really do! But I thrust my gut to know that there's something else going on"
She walks closer to him, staring at his broad back. How she wishes she could just hug him from behind and erase all his problems. But the world is more complicated than that, and she knows it.
"You can't always rely on your gut to make conclusions" opening the can soda, Kenji spit those words with a gruff tone, making [Name] surprised over his mood change.
Of course she wasn't off limits of seeing him mad only because she was his girlfriend, but she didn't expect for him to talk to her like that over a simple request.
"Then talk to me, Kenji. I don't wanna be like this either" she starts talking, following Kenji as he walks away while drinking from the can. "You don't have to tell me everything, but at least admit that you're having a hard time so I can at least hold you"
Kenji lets out a chuckle, incredulous. "Hard time? Baby, I'm Ken Sato! I don't have hard times, I only have good times" he spread his arms beside him, trying to appear as flawless as ever, obtaining a deadpan face from you.
"Kenji, you look like shit" you simply say. "You can barely walk with your eyes open. I don't know about anyone else, but I can see the lack of sleep in your eyes, I can see how your shoulder has been bothering you more each day that passes. I know that you always work hard to be on a good shape for the games, but you go to an extent that is not healthy"
"What? Did you became a physician now?" he asks after finishing rubbing his eyes, a mocking tone on his words.
"What? No" you needed to take a breath to not break. "I'm just concerned about your well being"
"I am okay" he affirms, eyebrows furrowed. "You're the that's being like 'Ohh Kenji ~ you're so tired. You should rest up'" with a high pitched tone, he mimicks you in a mocking way while pouting exaggeratedly.
You feel your heart beating fast on your chest, your cheeks hot with embarrassement. Why was he behaving like that? You just want to help. Were you being too overboard? You give him his space, you have gave it to him for weeks. And that you finally thought it was a good time to adress his lack of selfcare and how sad he looks, he talks to you like this...
"I know that you're having a hard time, Kenji. Everyone that cares about you can notice that. I just...I just want to help in what I can" you say with a weak tone now. You had shrunk in your spot, suddenly feeling sorry for even going to his house in the first place.
"Well guess what? You can't help me"
In a desperate attempt to push you away —because if you kept looking at him with those pretty eyes, he'll spill everything— he's mean to you. Not the smartest choice to treat your lover, but that's the only response that he could muster at the moment.
He was flustered at the confrontation. Of course you will notice about his poor state. You love him and care too much for him to not notice that he's going insane little by little, but he doesn't want to share that burden with you. In his mind, he just can't.
You look up at him, big sad eyes that just make him want to hug you until you both forget this stupid moment.
Holding back your tears, the only thing you could do was sigh. Your heart feels heavy on your chest, wunded by his words and harsh tone. You're not the savior of the word, you're not Ultraman either, you just wanted to help your boyfriend...
"Yeah, I already knew that" you mumble. Taking a deep breath, you look up at him with a weak smile. "Alright, you might not want to talk right now, but if you need anything...I'm always gonna be there" you remind him, giving him one last look before starting to walk off to the front door.
Kenji looks at you go. You seemed little with the way your shoulders shrunk and you walked slowly, like an injured animal. His heart also feels heavy on his chest, a pang of guilt striking over all his body as his eyes are already watering with tears.
He hated that his stupid pride wouldn't let him as for help, for it to hurt you when the only thing you wanted to do was help him in whatever way you could.
He knew you weren't weak, he knew that you could be able to handle all the secrets that he's harboring on his chest, but he doesn't want to share the burden, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you only because you know he's Ultraman.
What would he do if he lost you? He's sure that he was gonna lose his mind. Just the same way he'll lose his mind if he let you walk away through that door.
"Mina, lock the door" he commanded, and in a split of a second, the computer did so.
You didn't even try to open it after you've heard his command. Confused, you look back at Kenji, who's already walking towards you like a kicked puppy.
"Forgot to say something?" you ask, bitterness on your tone that made Kenji cringe.
He sighs, a guilty expression on his face. "Yes...I'm sorry baby" he begins. "I...I promise that I want to tell you, I want to tell you everything! But— it's...it's too dangerous"
And finally, after months of bottling all this emotions, Kenji finally breaks into loud sobs, fat tears running down his cheeks. Startled, [Name] didn't have any other reflections than hug him, even though she was still mad at his earlier attitude.
"Hey, hey" she whispered, running a hand up and down his back. "It's okay, it's okay"
Kenji wraps his arms around her shoulders, hiding his face on her neck. "I don't—" he chokes, "I don't want anything to happen to you" he cries, almost incomprehensible.
"Nothing is gonna happen to me, baby" she reassures, feeling his tears run down her neck and wetting her shirt, but she doesn't care about it. Kenji finally is being open with her, and that's all that matter.
Kenji sniffs a few times before talking with a weak voice. "Promise?" he asks.
She squeezes him a little bit more in her arms. "I promise"
Still sniffing, Kenji slowly pulls away from the hug, looking at his girlfriend with his big eyes full of tears, a cute pout in his lips. [Name] reaches her hands to run her thumbs under his eyes, drying his tears away. He nuzzles into her, a shaky breath exhaling out of him as he calms down.
"There you go" she whispers softly, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs now. "Come on, let's sit on the couch. I'll get you some water"
After a lot of reassurance that nothing was gonna happen and lots of cuddles, Kenji had finally told her everything. That his dad was Ultraman; that he took his legacy and he now serves as the new Ultraman to the city of Tokyo, and how he knows he's not doing a good job; that he has a 6 feet tall baby Kaiju that think he's her mother trapped in a container, and he clearly don't know how to take care of her; how much he misses his mother everyday...
[Name] listened to him attentively, her heart swelling at how much pain Kenji had to endure on his own and feeling guilty about not noticing sooner. Why she couldn't have been there for him? Right now, everything seemed so obvious, all of it happen in front of her, and she couldn't do nothing.
Her caresses on the back of his hand never stopped for even one second, even caressing his back when he needed to make a pause to cry.
Now they were cuddled up in the couch under a blanket. After spilling everthing out, Kenji just let himself fall into her arms and bask into her warmth.
"Thank you for telling me, Kenji. I really didn't wanna pressure you into talking, but you looked so sick...I was just so worried" she blinked back the tears, she needed to be strong for him now. "And yeah, it's a lot to take in. Like damn...I'm dating Ultraman" her comment makes Kenji giggle, his body trembling with laughter in her arms, "but it's nothing that we can't overcome, together" she remarks the last word. "And it's not something that it's gonna make me love you any less"
Kenji pulls away from her arms to make eye contact, his puffy eyes still able to show how soft they become when he looks at her. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out for you to talk. I just— I don't know how to ask for help" he admits, feeling a weight that he didn't know he had on his chest being gone.
"Well, admiting that is a big first step, so I'm really proud of you for that" she kisses his forehead, making him smile. "And we can work on that. We can search for professional service, that wpuld help out a lot. And, I'm always gonna be there for you" she reminds him, running her fingers through his hair.
She cups his cheeks, making him look at her in the eyes. "You're not a burden, Kenji. Your problems are valid and I'm always gonna be up to hearing them and help you in what I can and I can't do. We're in this together, alright? You're not alone anymore"
[Name] saw the way that Kenji's eyes swell with this again, a small pout on his lips as he gulps softly. He nods, slowly, letting her words sink in. He was not alone...he had her. It was not something that it would easily stick in his mind, but he'll try to remind himelf everyday. He was not alone anymore.
She leaned in, going for a kiss, and Kanji meet her midway, kissing her with yearn after all those weeks that they couldn't be together, that they couldn't touch each other. He could've barely see her with his busy schedule, and that also added to all his stress, all this mess. All he needed was to be in her arms.
Kenji takes one of [Name]'s hands that cupped his cheek and slide it down his shirt at the same time he traced her bottom lip with his tongue.
[Name] pulls away from the kiss, almost smiling when she hears Kenji whine and chase after her lips, desperate. "Hey, you really wanna do this? You're still tired, Kenji" she reproached.
"Please baby" he whines, looking at her eyes and then her lips, intensely. "I need you"
Kenji straddles his girlfriend's lap completely, letting her feel his hard cock against her stomach. [Name] gasps softly, looking up at Kenji's cute needy face as he starts rocking his hips softly.
She bits down her bottom lip before pulling him into another kiss where he moans.
They didn't even realize when did Mina lowered the lights. How could they? When they were so engrossed in each other's touch. The room was filled with the couple's moans and their skin hitting against each other.
Kenji was laying down on the couch, [Name] on top of him, as they hugged each other thightly while she moved her hips up and down, Kenji's dick hitting the right spot with every thrust.
Kenji's grip on [Name]'s waist just get tighter as he hide his moans in her neck. "Baby...baby" he calls for her, feeling his orgasm coming.
"I know baby, I know" she kisses his shoulder. "Go ahead, you can cum" she reassures, speeding the pace of her thrusts.
Kenji meets his girlfriend's hips midway, bucking his own as he hits the last thrusts before sliding out of her, ropes of cum shooting out of his tip, dirtying [Name]'s back, his thighs and the expensive couch under them. But who cared? He could buy another one.
[Name] brings her hand to her clit, making circle motions on it with her fingers as she grins on Kenji's abs. He manages to look up at her with cloudy eyes, brain still fuzzy with the euphoria of his recent climax. Still, his hands come up to caress her thighs, encouraging her to keep using him to get off.
"S' pretty" he slurs, running his thumbs on her skin.
"Fuck...Kenji" with his name on her lips, she ends up cumming with a few more motions of her fingers before collapsing on top of her boyfriend's chest.
They stayed there, in each other's embrace as they calmed down. Kenji's finger run softly down [Name]'s arm, his free arm wrapped around her waist.
"I'm sorry I didn't help you get off" he whispers suddenly, making [Name] chuckle.
"It's okay. To be fair, you're about to pass out now" she props her chin on his chest, looking at him with dreamy eyes. Kenji chuckles as well, not denying it. "Come on, let's take a bath and then you can finally have some good night sleep" patting his chest softly, she starts getting up and helps him as well.
"Are you gonna introduce me to the baby Kaiju tomorrow?" she asks as they walk together to the bathroom.
"Oh yeah, and she's gonna love ~ you. Just like I do ~" he litters her cheek with kisses, making her giggle.
"Come on, Romeo. Let's take a bath"
[taglist] @vinegarjello
#🌺 anon#ultraman: rising#ultraman rising#ken sato#kenji sato#ken sato x reader#kenji sato x reader#ken sato x fem reader#kenji sato x fem reader#dom!reader#sub!character#dom reader#sub character#sub!ken sato#sub ken sato#sub!kenji sato#sub kenji sato#sub!ultraman rising#sub ultraman rising#it's embarrassing how long it took me to write this to end up being this bad ᴖ̈
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Hi I love your writing!! Not sure if you take requests so please ignore this if you don’t!! What if Sam and reader were dating and then reader finds out about Sam/Penny liking each other in the past so they get kinda insecure and Sam reassures them
nsjhdwj thank you so, so much! <3
It really means the world to me to hear it! :) Thank you so much for your request as well, it was absolutely LOVELY to write. I hope you will enjoy it! Have a lovely day, dear anon~ <3
(Needless to say, I do take requests >:))
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader
ᴡᴄ: 1889 words
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: a lil jealousy, a lil insecurity. it is mostly fluff, though. gentle kisses and all~
☾ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀꜱ ☽
The relationship between Sam and you had begun to blossom in the fall of your first year in Pelican Town. It had all started out quite simple; playing pool with the blond and Sebastian in the saloon turned into hanging out and playing video games together. Taking turns trying hard levels bled into fleeting touches and looking at one another longer than necessarily needed; until it all ended in a chaste kiss behind near the river. It hadn’t taken Sam much longer to show up on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, asking you to officially be with him.
Ever since, your relationship had grown like the crops on your fields – filling your heart with a deep, comfortable feeling of contentment and calm, something no one ever had managed up until the town. However, whenever Sam walked up to you, looking at you with these deep blue eyes filled with excitement and genuine happiness and smiling at you as if you were the first warm day in spring, you felt like you were at the right place, at the right time.
However, there was gossip in town. Little whispers, really, nothing you wouldn’t have expected living in a sleepy community like this. The gossip here was nothing more than a fleeting thought that was spoken out; here one moment, gone the next.
You had always promised yourself to not let these whispers stick to you, to just smile and forget about it. And so far you had done well; the most attention you had spent on anything that wasn’t rock solid was wondering how someone would come up with something like that.
In all seriousness, you just didn’t care for it. It rolled off your back like droplets of rain rolled off your raincoat.
You didn’t think a simple visit to Pierre’s would change that. You were standing in front of one of the shelves in the far back, looking at the different seasonal seeds in stock, considering trying out something new on the fields when you heard Marnie’s voice. It was hushed as it usually was when she was gossiping. Any other day, you would have just turned back to the bags in your hand, but today, you heard your boyfriend’s name. Much to your shame, your ears perked up almost immediately, and even worse, you actually tilted your head a little to catch what Marnie was saying.
“Yes, I am surprised he didn’t end up with Ms. Penny. The crushes they had were quite obvious, even my nephew picked up on it,” she hummed.
Another voice now answered with a hum, but when they talked, you were able to identify it as Mayor Lewis’s. “Even my old eyes picked up on it! I saw them at the bridge often, and I always thought Ms. Penny just waited for him to make the first move and she would have been all his.”
Your heart sank. Sam had had a crush on Penny? You furrowed your brows as you thought back, trying to remember if you ever had picked up on anything like that. Then it hit you – they had often hung out by the bridge together, and if you were honest, you had always felt a weird tension sizzle in the air between them.
Marnie again: “It is quite a shame, really. Jas told me that Ms. Penny looks a little sad when they pick up little Vincent. I think they would have made a good couple; she could have taught him a lot, I bet.”
“And maybe he would have helped her to get out of her shell a little. I thought they were a good match as well.”
You couldn’t take any more. You stepped out from between the shelves and almost ran to the till, slamming the bags onto the counter. “Just these, please,” you smiled at Pierre, loud enough for the hushed whispers behind you to stop.
“Thanks,” you murmured after you had been rung up, fleeing the general store without as much as a look in the two chatterboxes’ direction.
You had genuinely wanted to let go of what you had heard today. After all, Sam was with you now, and he seemed genuinely happy with you. Even now in his sleep, he was looking peaceful and content; his arm stretched out towards you as usual. Whenever you and Sam slept together, he had to touch you in some way. You didn’t mind that, in fact, it usually calmed you and lulled you into a deep slumber. Tonight, it didn’t help.
You had started thinking as soon as your conversation with Sam had faded as his breathing had grown heavier; a clear sign that he was drifting off to sleep.
Had you gotten in the middle of something between Sam and Penny?
Would he maybe be better off dating her?
Would he be happier with her?
Why did he choose to be with you when there seemingly was a spark, big enough for others to notice?
Penny, in all honesty, was not only a beautiful human but had an incredible personality at that. She was a catch, no doubt. Maybe you had ruined the best relationship Sam could have ever had, because what could you offer? You were a farmer, nothing more, nothing less. Doing work many considered as nothing but simple and dirty. Whereas Penny was always clean and well-kempt: being noble enough to try and give the town’s kids the best possible education. Trying to give your boyfriend’s little brother the best possible chances, for crying out loud!
Holy shit, you had probably ruined Sam’s life, what did he even see in you?
“Babe?” a groggy voice next to you asked, making you tense up. You had been so lost in your whirlwind of thoughts that you hadn’t even realized how much you had been tossing and turning. You tried to stay still, even out your breathing. Maybe he would just go back to sleep.
But you knew Sam better than that. And just as you had expected, two strong arms slowly snaked around you, pulling you into a warm chest. Sam’s hand found your hair, long fingers running through it just mere moments later. Sam knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself, and he knew what to do when you were nervous. And even now in your state of inner turmoil it helped; you relaxed into his arms, and for a split second, your head was quiet.
“What’s wrong, baby? Bad dream?”
That was your chance. If you said yes now, he would probably cuddle you, caressing your hair until you fell asleep. Sleep sounded nice right about now.
“Did I ruin your chances with Penny? Would you rather be with her?”
The caressing stopped, and you could feel the mattress behind you shift. Was he leaving now?
The light switched on, and before you could say something else, you saw Sam’s face hover right over yours. His rough hand was placed on your cheek now, thumb caressing the skin gently as he peered into your eyes. All sleep had vanished now, replaced by honest concern and confusion.
“Why would you think something like that?”
You bit around on your lower lip, looking away in embarrassment. “I heard Marnie and Lewis talk at Pierre’s today…They…they talked about the crush you had on Penny and the crush she had on you and how you would be a great match and how she is sad when she picks up Vincent now and-“
Noting how stupid you sounded, you stopped yourself, taking in a deep breath and not being able to stop yourself, “and it had me wondering, because I saw you hang out as well and Penny is so beautiful and kind and noble and she would have a good influence on you! And what am I, just a farmer, you have seen me in dirty clothes more often than in clean ones and-“
You looked at Sam helplessly, tears in the corner of your eyes. “And I just…Why did you choose me when you could have had her, Sam? Why didn’t you choose her? You could have…I…” The blond looked at you, patiently waiting for you to finish speaking.
Only when your stream of words had seemingly ceased did he lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips.
“Because Penny isn’t you, my love,” he murmured against the plush of your lips, looking into your eyes. His thumb was still caressing your cheek, allowing his other hand to lock together with yours.
“Yes, Penny is a good-hearted woman, and yes, I might have had a crush on her. But you touched my heart in a way no one ever has. I fell in love with you, and I mean all of you. Your eyes; the way they light up when you’re proud or happy. The way you smile and the many different smiles you have. I love every single one. I love that you get dirty every day while doing what you love. I love that you give it your all every day.”
Sam kissed your nose carefully, his eyes peering into yours again.
“I love how careful you are with everything, especially with things that are dear to you. Yoba, I love the way your breathing sounds when you are next to me, I love the way you ramble to yourself when you are working on something and think no one can hear you. I love the random sounds you make. I love seeing you. I love being around you. I love you being mine. I love you.”
Sam kissed your lips again, holding onto your face. You looked up at him with teary eyes, hiding your face in his chest. The blond laid back down, carefully pulling you on top of him. He drew random patterns onto your back; mostly hearts and clouds and little stars.
“I remember the first actual date we went on. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was so close to just throwing up. Sebastian kept teasing me, asking me why I was nervous, I had been to the beach so often…” he kissed your head again, holding you a little tighter to his chest. “And then I saw you there. All bundled up in your winter clothes, and I asked myself why I had been so stupid to suggest a date on the beach in winter. But when you smiled at me…Shit, that was the moment I just knew that you were my one and only. And I wouldn’t want to live a life in which you weren’t.”
You sniffled a little, but smiled a little as you thought back to the date. You had, in fact, asked yourself why Sam would want to meet up at the beach in winter, but you could have never allowed yourself to pass up the opportunity.
You closed your eyes; taking in your boyfriend’s scent. He smelled like cotton and a hint of vanilla. Honestly, you found he smelled like home.
You could feel Marnie’s and Lewis’s voices quieten down, as did your worries.
Sam could feel you relax in your arms and slowly lifted your chin with two fingers.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Sam.”
“And tomorrow I will skate on the Mayor’s property.”
“No, Sam."
#sdv#stardew valley fanfic#stardew valley#stardew valley farmer#sdv fanfic#sdv sam#fanfic#sdv sam x reader#stardew valley x reader#SDV#SDV Sam#SDV Sam x reader#Stardew Valley Sam#fluff#fluffy Sam
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omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!
i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33
thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!
Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)
This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.
Tangerine, Tangerine
Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?
Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!
Word Count: 4494
_______________________________________
It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.
You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.
Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”
“Green Two check.”
“Green Three check.”
It was just a kiss.
“Green Four check.”
It was just a-
“Green Five check.”
Just a-
“Green Six check.”
Just-
“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.”
It wasn’t just a kiss.
You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron.
This mission was straightforward - on a holopad.
Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons.
The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne.
Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure.
Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.
You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide.
The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them.
Simple.
In theory.
Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy.
But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going?
No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice.
You swallow.
You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart.
I hadn’t just been a kiss.
You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline.
He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that.
Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead.
It made a lot more sense.
Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own.
They had always been close. Always. Best friends.
Sickness bubbled in your throat.
You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it.
“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander.
“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?”
Hank chortled.
Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist.
Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you.
“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?”
Yeah. Now you had.
The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains.
Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet.
You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…
But you had thought it was…
It didn’t matter.
You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch.
That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss.
Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence.
It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons.
A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands.
You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next.
Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?
“That one here, you see it?”
“Yeah?”
“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”
You’d laughed.
“That’s me and you Moonbeam.”
Moonbeam. That stupid nickname.
You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you.
“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.”
That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’
You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on.
It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal.
Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay.
Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures.
“Fuck.”
The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled.
“Blue in place now!”
“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”
“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!”
“How far away is the Delta?”
“Calling in attack pattern!”
You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game.
That didn’t bode well.
You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction.
Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.
“Targeting not working!”
“It’s out!”
“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”
“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on.
“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!”
You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process.
“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.
You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?”
“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down.
It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard.
The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns.
Good.
But there’s so, so many of them.
Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems.
More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together.
The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing.
“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear.
You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through.
The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on.
“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter.
There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home.
Frizz.
“No…”
“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”
You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.
“Green Two check!” Cril.
“Green Three check!” Petal.
Nothing.
“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz.
The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes.
You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist.
There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity.
All you need is…
Another alarm.
“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!”
A chorus of yells answer you.
A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely.
And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard.
The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot.
“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist.
Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected.
You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons.
You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull.
It’s not enough.
You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough.
It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.
There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it.
Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.
“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.
They must have scrambled after first contact.
The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell.
The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire.
You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational.
Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on.
Two chances left.
One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits.
Poe shouts for you over the intercom.
You don’t answer.
One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will.
Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call.
You don’t answer.
You fire. Hit.
Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it.
The canon doesn’t go down.
You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him.
You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.
“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do.
Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard.
“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard.
You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down.
Shouts over the radio, you barely make out-
“-cannon’s down-”
“-Jump!-”
A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.
The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-
.
The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream.
Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain.
You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob.
There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit.
The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it.
You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide.
Make it look like you had a weapon.
Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning.
Can’t let them take you alive.
There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down.
For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot.
You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue.
You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…
.
When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear.
I'm dead.
You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds.
But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.
And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.
“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use.
Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back.
“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good.
“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?”
“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper.
“What?”
“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-”
“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.”
You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe.
Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.”
You snort.
He smiles.
“Who did we lose?”
Hank sighs, “three…”
You nod, closing your eyes for a moment.
“There-”
There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.
You swallow, sickness building in your throat.
He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red.
He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages.
“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes.
“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.
Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.”
Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away.
“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”
“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”
He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?”
“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.”
The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?”
You nod.
“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart.
“You pushed her away?”
“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…”
“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”
“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.”
He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes.
“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”
“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”
“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head.
He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating.
You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly.
“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.
“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”
He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.”
You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight.
“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins.
You scoff.
“You are.” He kisses you again.
You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home.
“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.”
You nod. “She’s a good person.”
He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.”
You touch his cheek lightly.
“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?”
You shake your head in surprise and he nods.
“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.”
You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper.
Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance.
Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted.
“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart.
____________________________________
Thank you for reading!
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#poe dameron#star wars sequels#poe dameron x reader#x reader#poe dameron x you#x you#poe dameron x gender neutral reader#x gender neutral reader#poe dameron x gn!reader#x gn!reader#my writing#fanfic#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters
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Hey I seen you’re asking for some Eddie requests. I was wondering if I could request something really angsty where Eddie chooses someone else over reader (can be a happy ending or not) but I just want to hurt think I need it out my system 😂 please and thank you
Request by anon.
Angsty but with a happy ending (for reader)
♥️
The heartache you felt was like nothing else, you had thought that Eddie was interested in you, that there was a possibility the two of you might start dating.
Truly you had thought that the flirting between the two of you meant something more. Yet it didn't.
Instead of asking you on a date, Eddie had chosen to date Louise King.
In truth, you didn't even find out until school on Monday, the school was abuzz sigh gossip and your best friend Tina told you.
"Oh my god, did you hear about Louise and Eddie, she hooked up with the freak at Jason's party and they are together now. Like together together" her eyes light up with the absolute scandal of it all while you felt like your heart was being stamped on.
"What?" you whisper but Tina doesn't hear you and instead focuses on gossiping with Anna. You feel nauseated and decide to go and find Eddie, you don't have to look far, Louise is hanging off him like a limpet, she's all giggly and hyper.
"Uh, can we talk for a second Eddie. Um about our class project?" you didn't have one but it's the only way you figured you could speak to him.
Fortunately, he takes the hint and removes himself from Louise, he follows you to a more secluded area and you peer up at him confused.
"What's going on Eddie, I thought that you might have asked me out, that we had a spark but now I come to school and you're dating Louise?" you murmur and Eddie's eyes flicker with something you can't place before his face turns smooth and impassive.
"Yeah. Well, you thought wrong sweetheart, I'm not interested in you and never have been" he's so cold as he says this and you blink back tears.
"Right. So instead of telling me this, you lead me on and let me flirt with you like a fool to what? Stroke your ego? You're an asshole Eddie Munson. Exactly like Jason except he wouldn't even do this" you see the flash of hurt in his eyes but don't care and walk away from him.
Tough shit.
Finally, the tears fall freely.
❤️
After avoiding Eddie and Louise all day you head out of school in a rush to get home. Your heart is still aching and you just want to crawl in bed and cry everything out.
In your rush to get away, you stumble and drop your notes from class, wipe the tears away from your eyes and try to pick them all up. Fuck, stupid notes, stupid Eddie.
Someone helps you gather them all, you see tanned hands gather them quickly and when you peer up Steve is smiling at you. Oh... you smile shyly at him and say thanks.
"No problem honey, hey did you watch that movie last week that I recommended? Back to the future is a superior film" you giggle and shake your head.
"No, not yet" You swear that you can feel eyes on you but when you turn around no one is there.
Weird.
Steve is sweet and very flirty, actually flirting with you and making you laugh. It's a nice feeling after today and maybe things eventually might be okay?
Steve offers to drive you home and you nod still smiling. "Hey, you been crying?" he asks concerned and you shrug.
"Just thought this guy liked me. Turned out I was very wrong" The pain hits you again but you manage to ignore it. Steve frowns at this.
"Well then he's a dickhead and not worth your time, hey you wanna hang with me and Robin today?" Yes, yes you really would.
As you're leaving you don't notice Eddie leaning up against the wall and watching you and Steve leave together.
Even if you did well why should you care? Eddie made his bed so he would just have to lie in it.
❤️
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x you
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Here
Summary: After you save him from Orin's clutches, Gale has some things to work through. You show him that he is not alone.
Featuring a fireside chat with Astarion.
A response to this anon ask. I hope you like it 💜
Word count: 2.1k
Non-18+. Mild hurt/comfort. Gale x reader/Tav.
AO3 link
A/N: You can watch Gale's reactions to being rescued from Orin's lair here (at 12.32) and here.
Thank you so much @dekariosclan for beta reading and being my marvellous Gale consultant, as always!
****
His scream tears you from sleep. It is shrill, piercing, a desperate flinch against untold horrors. You reach out for him as he gasps, clawing at his orb scar, choking for breath.
When you touch him, he thrashes, still caught in the talons of his nightmare. You see the scars left by Orin in his cloying sweat, his shaking frame, his subsiding shouts as he crumples into you. He cannot hide them from you, much as he tries.
“It was a dream.” You press his head against your chest, twining your fingers through his tangled hair. “You’re safe. You're home.”
He does not speak for a long time. His eyelashes flutter against your skin, his heartbeat jolting through you as he searches frantically for his glade of calm. When he eventually finds it, you feel his hands come to rest on the small on your back, steadying, anchoring. You hold him, torn apart by a gratitude as strong as grief. He is here. You could have lost him, but he is here. You will never let go of him again.
He clears his throat. When he moves back to look at you, his smile does not quite meet his eyes.
“My apologies, my love. I didn't mean to wake you–”
His voice is hoarse, broken. You shake your head. “You have nothing to apologise for, Gale. Absolutely nothing.”
He looks away for a moment. You know you have a brief opening, now, before the mask comes up, before the jolly dismissals and self-deprecating quips resume their well-worn routines. You place your hand on his cheek.
“Gale, you know you can talk to me, don’t you? Everything that happened–”
He jerks his head, taking your hand in his. His skin is clammy, and there is a hollowness in his gaze, though it is still tender as rain-kissed earth.
“I'm fine, Tav. Please don't worry yourself.” A brisk smile of reassurance, warring with the dark circles under his eyes. “Of all the things on your very full plate, my welfare is not something you need to burden yourself with.”
You are about to object, but the kiss he plants on your cheek is swift and firm. When he rises from your shared bedroll, you feel bereft.
“I'm quite alright. Nothing that a bit of fresh air and a quick walk won't cure.”
He combs his fingers through his hair, squaring his shoulders. The walls are up, and he is retreating into the night. Even as you ask, you know what his answer will be.
“Should I come with you?”
He huffs, bending down to kiss your forehead. “No, please. Rest. I deprived you of a good sleep tonight, and gods knows how many nights before this. I want you to take what rest you can for our battles ahead. I won’t stray far. Don’t worry.”
You cup his face tightly, desperately. “I love you.”
This time, his eyes smile before he turns away. “I love you too.”
*****
In the distance, streaks of dawn tease at the bruises in the sky. Sleep is a triviality that eludes you. You huddle around the campfire, fretting, trying not to mark the hours that Gale has been gone. Trying not to imagine all of the nightmares which were until recently Gale’s reality.
You fail. You think of how Orin must have flayed Gale’s mind from his body as he struggled, powerless and alone. You imagine his terror, not just of torture and death, but of the orb inside him. And you wonder whether he despaired as he waited, doubting that his love would come for him, fearing that his friends had forgotten him. Convinced that he was once again abandoned to die.
‘Of all the things on your very full plate, my welfare is not something you need to burden yourself with.’
You bury your face in your hands, a chaos of panic, love and guilt. It takes you a moment to register the presence beside you.
“Gods, you look awful.”
Astarion is peering at you like he is examining a torn gown. A trickle of blood stains his collar, the triumph of a late night hunt. He wrinkles his nose as he studies you.
“Do I need to have a word with Gale about laying off on” – his hand circles vaguely – “whatever it is the two of you do at night?”
You do not have the energy to glare at him. Instead, you glance towards the edges of camp, scanning for signs of Gale’s return. When you see nothing, you sigh. Astarion arches an eyebrow.
“Do I really need to explain why Gale might not be in the mood for that?”
Astarion tilts his head. There is understanding in the pause that follows. Astarion had been the one who helped you get Gale down from Orin’s altar, after all. He had seen the turmoil in Gale’s eyes, the blood on his limbs before the healing spells. He had felt Gale’s resistance when you both laid hands on him, easing him up. The fractured moments before Gale’s usual cheery gratitude snapped into place. Astarion would have recognised the signs better than anyone.
“He’s been having nightmares,” you manage. “But he won’t talk about them. He woke up screaming tonight. Then he went for a walk. He’s been gone for two hours.”
Astarion frowns. “If you’re worried for his safety, the wizard is more than capable of blasting people to smithereens.” He purses his lips. “Assuming he’s not magically restrained, like Orin managed–”
You wince at your rising dread. Gale is an archwizard, you remind yourself, not a defenceless babe. You fight the urge to smother him in care, to protect him and keep him safe at all costs. It is not what he needs. But perhaps you do not know what he truly needs.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
Astarion stares at you for a while. He leans back, brows furrowed, and you suddenly wonder if you give him enough credit. Perhaps there are things Astarion sees, despite his usual habit of deflecting things with thinly veiled insults.
“Sometimes, there are things that are better left unsaid.” He curls his lip. “Even for Gale.”
You ignore the barb, spinning towards him. “So Gale should just soldier on? Stiff upper lip, the show must go on? Even when he’s falling apart?”
“So dramatic, darling.” He tuts. “Who’s falling apart? He seems fine to me.”
You clench your hands. “The nightmares are getting worse, Astarion. Gods knows what Orin did to him.”
From the feathering of Astarion’s jaw, you know he can guess.
“And he won’t talk to me. Like he doesn’t want to be a burden. Like he’s sorry…” You scoff. “As if it’s his fault, that he’s the one who let me down.”
Astarion narrows his eyes. “If you’re suggesting that it’s your—”
“No, no,” you huff. “No, this isn’t about me. It’s about Gale.”
Astarion sighs. His gaze is weary as a scar.
“Some things are too horrific to share, darling. So atrocious that it’d be a nightmare to even hear them. He just needs to grit his teeth and get through. Survive.”
You struggle to keep the anguish from your voice. “Does he have to do that alone?”
Astarion’s mouth tightens. He averts his gaze. “Maybe that’s what he’s used to.”
You are taken aback by the resignation in Astarion’s words. Conviction rises in you, an unstoppable tide that weaves through the tents of each and every member of the family you have found.
“But he isn’t alone anymore. He doesn’t have to keep it to himself. He isn’t a burden, and there’s nothing he could do or say to drive me away. I’m here for him. We’re all here for him.”
There is a quiver in Astarion’s features. You have a sense of a door cracking open. A glimpse of something ancient and hidden.
“It takes a while,” he says quietly. “To get used to that. To believe it.”
The silence that falls over you is both heavy and light. Within it, a lifetime of loneliness and fear crashes against the battle-forged bonds of love and friendship. And you believe, with every fibre of your being, that love will endure.
Astarion jerks his head behind you. You turn, your eyes filling as they fall on what they seek.
“But if anyone can remind him,” you hear Astarion chuckle, “it’s you.”
*****
When you return to Gale’s tent, you try to settle him, but he is a flurry. His movements drag with exhaustion, yet are manic with determination.
“Is there something I can get you to help you sleep? A cup of tea? A warming spell? Do you need a–”
You embrace him. His breath catches, and you clasp him so close you can feel the points of muscle and bone. The weight of him, the miracle of him beside you. You will never take him for granted.
“Just you,” you whisper. “Here, with me.”
His lips tingle against your neck, his grasp tightening around your waist. For an eternity, neither of you let go. You are haunted by the shadow of your separation, chasing away Orin’s ghost with the strength of your need. When he dips back, his brows are steepled with concern.
“You’re troubled.” He traces his thumb across your jawline. “What troubles you?”
After all this time, he still does not understand. He cannot see how someone could love him so deeply that his pain becomes their own. He still cannot believe that someone could respond to his love by giving him their whole heart. That you could love him as he loves you. An outpouring of the soul. A sacred offering, steadfast and unending.
“That you’re troubled.” Your fingers interlace with his. “That you think your struggles are a burden to me - that I wouldn't want to share everything with you, including your suffering.”
He grimaces so sharply, it is almost a flinch.
“My love,” he heaves. “You quite literally have the weight of the world on your shoulders. It torments me to know I’ve added to that load, rather than easing it. If I weren’t such a fool to fall for Orin’s trap–”
You shake your head. The force of it stills him.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Gale. What happened wasn’t your fault. And what you’re going through now…You don’t have to pretend that everything’s alright. I know it isn’t. I hear it, I see it, every day, every night.”
His eyes widen, the wrinkle between them deepening. You sense the knee-jerk apology that bubbles within him. Your grasp his hand tighter, the words tumbling from you like the sea surging against the shore.
“I love you. I’m here for you. I’ll never abandon you, no matter what happens. You can tell me anything. Everything. Whatever you want. And you can trust me, just like I trust you. Just like I know you love me, and will always be there for me.”
For a while, he does not speak. His gaze roams your face, searching for signs of doubt, hesitation, disapproval. But all you can give him is love.
You draw him back, sinking down to your bed roll. He softens as you curl into each other, his arm wrapping around your body. Your head nestles between his neck and shoulder, and you breathe in the sour tang of his sweat. He inhales deeply, nuzzling into your hair. Memorising you, just as you are soaking him in.
“You kept me alive, you know,” he whispers. “When Orin toyed with me, tore at me. The thought of you, your courage, your kindness. Your love. She could never break me, no matter what vile cruelties she inflicted. I had you.”
Your tears trail into the nook of his collarbone. His voice trembles.
“My foolishness, my carelessness… it could have got you killed. And when you saved me – when, yet again, you saved me from the precipice – I resolved to do better. I told myself the least I could do was cause as little hassle as possible.”
You lurch forward, your vision a blur as you take his face in your hands.
“Gale,” you breathe. “I love you more than anyone and anything. You are not, and will never be, a hassle. A burden. Never. You're the man I love, and you're everything to me.”
His eyes are bright as he brushes away your tears. You watch the shadows lift from his features as the truth of your heart washes over him, wave by wave. Slowly, reverently, he presses a kiss to each of your palms, holding them against his cheeks.
“What have I done to deserve you?”
There is awe in his voice. Wonder. And shimmering within it, the beginnings of acceptance.
You lean forward, circling the tip of his nose with your own. He lets out a shaky breath, his hands weaving around your back, pulling you closer.
“You don't need to do anything. Just be here, with me.”
You smile into each others’ lips, two rivers joining in the sea.
“I can do that.”
********
A/N: Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! I'd love to know what you think as always, so don't be a stranger 🫶
Liked this fic? Check out my other work
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3#baldurs gate 3#galemancers#gale x tav#gale x reader#gale x oc#bg3 gale#baldurs gate 3 gale#gale fic#gale fanfiction#bg3 gale fanfiction#gale romance#bg3 gale romance#bg3 gale fic#bg3 fic#bg3 fanfiction#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction#astarion#baldurs gate 3 fic
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Can I hear your thoughts on calling Soshiro the wrong name? Like when I first got into the kn8 fandom, I could never get Soshiro's name right. It's always "Seishiro" as in Nagi Seishiro from Blue Lock 💔. I wonder what his reaction would be to hear his partner calling him a diff guy's name 🤔
this ask has the potential to cause so much mayhem anon, thank you for sending through
pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader content warnings: none, just a bit suggestive at the end, established relationship this is super short, but hopefully you like it! my ask is open again for requests but be warned that replies will be delayed. it takes time for me to write, and if i dont immediately vibe with the prompt, that makes it harder for me. i will always reply though because there is not a lot of hoshina stuff around here and i value people's ideas. thank you guys for understanding!
being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend has a lot of perks.
first of all, you had never felt safer anywhere you go when he is accompanying you - it's not that you treat him as your personal body guard, but he cannot help to act like one, always on the lookout to protect you. more than everything, nothing beats knowing the simple fact that you are dating an ultra-handsome killing machine who treats you like a princess.
the thing is, being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend also has some downside.
the worst of all is because the vice-captain is famous, it cannot be helped that women and a few men are all over him, competing for a crumb of his attention.
your smile disappeared when you saw another video from the social media influencer you mentioned to hoshina last week. it was a short edited footage of the vice-captain's brief interview after the most recent kaiju attack - his hair wet from perspiration, his long fingers trying to brush his bangs away from his eyes. how hoshina can still look ravishing after killing kaijus is a mystery for you as well - no one should be allowed to be that hot, you thought. "hoshina, date me," the caption reads in an annoying cursive font. you were going to scroll away when you noticed your own boyfriend's personal account among the few thousands who liked the clip - the icon of his profile is at the top of the list. you closed the app, formulating a plan to exact a cruel vengeance against hoshina.
the chance came that same night when hoshina dropped by your apartment for dinner. the entire week is for saving the country, hoshina would tell you, but weekends are always dedicated to movie marathons and cuddling until one of you falls asleep.
"what's the theme for tonight? any preferences?" hoshina asked, pressing buttons in the remote control as he goes over the directory of tv series and chick flicks. "i'm thinking something scary."
"you know if you are looking for a reason to snuggle with me, you can literally just say that, soichiro." there was no change in your tone as you delivered the line, biting the insides of your cheek so you won't burst out laughing. keeping a straight face was not that difficult because hoshina seemed to ignore you.
"the conjuring, then." hoshina sat beside you in the couch after choosing a title, his right arm going around your waist as he leans into you.
you rested your head on his shoulder a bit and inhaled lightly the scent of his shirt. "you smell nice, soichiro."
hoshina's arm dropped faster than you would have expected, and when you glanced at him, you wondered if you had taken this game a bit too far.
"right, what did i do this time?" hoshina did not bothering the show playing in the television, the opening credits rolling in the screen.
"what do you mean?" your words were hurried because you feel you were going to explode in giggles. it is absolutely funny how the most skilled close-quarters combatant of the defense force can react so strongly to being called a different name.
"come on, you calling me by my brother's name is infuriating enough already. you doing it again is just hurting my feelings now. you're never mean without a reason. what is this about?" hoshina's face is earnest now and admittedly, you felt a tiny tinge of guilt.
you sighed. "i don't know, maybe your fans wouldn't be calling you the wrong name. you should date them instead." it came out of your mouth too bitter, but you could not take your statement back. trust has never been an issue between you and hoshina in the years you were together, but you don't suppose it is wholly your fault when you get affected by little things like this.
"if i wanted to, i would," hoshina answered calmly. "but obviously, i don't. because here i am, proposing we watch something scary so you could snuggle with me."
you chuckled and that finally eased the tension. "i'm sorry. i did not mean to ruin our night," you confessed. "i swear to pretend i'm scared of the ghost in the movie so i can cuddle closer to you."
hoshina's eyes carry a certain sparkle whenever he smiles. he leaned on you again then grabbing your hand, linked your fingers together.
"hey, you can always talk to me if something's bothering you, you know that, right? and i'll always try to do better by you," he said before kissing you.
you and your boyfriend never finished the movie but at least by the end of the night, hoshina had made sure you call him by no one else's name by making you moan his.
#this is so bad im sorry#but i tried#hoshina soshiro#soshiro hoshina#hoshina soshiro x reader#soshiro hoshina x reader#hoshina x reader#hoshina soshiro fic#kaiju no. 8#kn8 x reader#lian replies
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hi there hope you're having a great day! it's my first time requesting in general and was wondering if i can request lando norris imagine? after both him and the reader decided to hard launch on social media, he brought her to the race for the 1st time and fans absolutely adore her in general. hope this makes sense thank you sm! (reader is a very private person in general)
Mine, Not Theirs | LN4
A/N: sorry if it took me long, but thank you for this request, Anon! This is so cute 😞❤️🩹. I hope you like it!!
Genera: Fluff
Words: 1.9K
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader
…
"OH MY GODDDDD"
"So she is the one"
"Now we know the reason behind all the smiles during this season's races"
You smiled at all the comments left under Lando's post. You were sat on your hotel room’s bed, hugging your knees and smiling like an idiot at your phone for the past hour.
"Had I known you'd be smiling like this, I would've hard launched us sooner" you heard him speak, but your eyes kept staring at your picture that he posted. The picture that sent the internet into a spiral.
It was simple, you kissing Lando where you assumed his lips would be under his helmet, holding the sides of it. It was all loud and clear. Your smile on your exposed face, his name and number on the helmet. His McLaren suit. It was all out for the world to see, and it made your heart twist in the happiest ways.
"Hey, so" Lando walked closer to you, resting down on the edge of the bed and finally having your attention.
"Now that the whole world knows, I want you to come to races with me, starting with tomorrow’s" he confessed. Your smile slowly faded and you looked away from him.
He knew proposing such a thing when you've just publicized your relationship wouldn't be easy for you. You weren't the most outgoing or the best at dealing with all the press and fame that came from being with someone like Lando.
You looked back at him and saw him already losing hope. You had to try. He deserved at least that. He's been nothing but respectful and supportive of your wishes to keep your relationship private, but now things changed. You wanted to try for him just like he did for you.
"Okay" you said simply, not tearing your eyes from him to watch his reaction. He looked at you blankly.
"Wait, really?" A smile broke on his face. You nodded.
"Like 'hey guys this is the love of my life joining me for today's race' okay?" He asked again, carefully. You laughed and nodded again to reassure him.
"Yes!" He punched the air and you stood up, still laughing.
"Finally" he spread his arms, looking up at the ceiling.
After enjoying Lando's little celebration, you ran to your suitcase. You had to find something to wear. This was the first time anyone would see you. Not to mention the entire world.
A dress? Pants and a shirt? Classy? Casual?
You sat in the pile of your clothes, finding something suitable. Your eyes landed on a white top. Denim mini skirt. You narrowed your eyes. Smiled.
"These two with Lando’s McLaren bumper jacket" you announced to no one but yourself.
The next day, you started getting ready for the race. You curled your hair, did your light make up to perfection, and put on the outfit you picked out the night before.
You got in the car with Lando who was fully aware of your nerves ever since you woke up. He held your hand and that was enough to boost your confidence.
When you reached the circuit, your heart began beating at a dangerous speed. Lando's hand tightened around yours and he looked at you before getting out of the car. You could already see the many reporters there to document everyone's arrival. Your breath got heavier.
"Hey. Eyes on me, okay?" Lando whispered softly. You looked into his eyes and relaxed a little.
"No matter what anyone writes on those stupid platforms, you're mine, not theirs, okay? I'm proud you're the one I'm brining to today's race" he reassured you, hoping it would make you feel even more relaxed. He knew what it was like to be under the spotlight and having his every move scrutinized. It can get hard at times.
You smiled and looked down. He kissed your cheek before opening the car door, the commotion outside no longer muffled.
"Let's go" he ushered and you followed. Still holding his hand.
Even though it was very much light out, the camera flashes were still blinding. You kept your head down because it would've been overwhelming to look straight ahead. You held on to Lando's hand as he lead you to the paddock.
Once inside, you finally look up at the many faces there. Drivers, their families, managers, friends, girlfriends.
Some smiled. Some scrutinized. One Aussie accent cheered.
"Hey!" He greeted excitedly, opening his arms wide to give you a hug. You quickly let go of Lando's hand and hug Oscar.
"It's finally good to see you here" he said excitedly when you pull away. You smiled at him, eternally grateful for making you feel so welcome.
"Thanks, Oscar" you replied shyly. You could feel Lando beaming next to you.
"He goes crazy when you're not around. All he talks about is you. Hopefully he won’t be so annoying today since you’re here" he lowers his voice, playfully punching his teammates arm next to you. You laugh.
Oscar starts talking to Lando about the track and what to be expected. Lando wraps an arm around your waist and you listen to them talk.
It's a miracle that you were actually into the races and Formula 1 in general. You wouldn't have lasted too long with Lando if you weren't. It was his career after all, so naturally it was what he talked about most.
“Okay. We gotta get to the cars now. Shit’s about to get serious” Oscar clapped. Lando nodded and looked at you.
“You’ll be good here? Or you want to watch the race in the garage?” He asked you gently. You looked around at the drivers leaving, all their friends and family choosing to stay at the paddock. You turned to him and smiled.
“I’ll be fine around here. Maybe get to know some new people” you told him and he nodded letting go of your hand to hold your face and kiss you cheek.
You blushed as he walked away, turning to wave at you one last time.
“Take care, Lan!” You yelled and he turned to face you, walking backwards for a few steps.
“Anything for you, my love!” He shouted back, causing people to look. Your heart raced, but your eyes were only on him as he turned back around to continue walking next to Oscar.
You sigh, hoping people would actually be nice. Walking around the paddock, you feel someone tap your shoulder. You turn quickly, faced with a girl a little too pretty.
“First time around here?” She asks. You smile and nod.
“Great! I get to show you around!” She says excitedly, pulling your arm and walking inside.
You’re welcomed by about 5 more faces around a table. People your age. Girls. You felt overwhelmed by their stares, but you promised to give this whole thing a chance.
“We’ve got a McLaren girlfriend everyone!” She announces and everyone starts cheering. You laugh at how silly it seemed, yet so sweet.
“I’m Lily by the way, your co-McLaren-girlfriend” she finally introduces herself. Your smile widens, feeling a sense of belonging somehow.
Lily guides you to the table with five chairs already occupied, you and her filling the sixth and seventh spots. Everyone seemed to be your age. Maybe one or two years younger or older.
“First race nerves?” Another girl asked, taking a sip from her glass. You nodded, still smiling.
“We were all there. It all seems intimidating at first, the cameras, the questions, the race itself!” Another one continued. You frowned a little, nodding along.
You realized you hadn’t said a single word. You really weren’t the best at small talk, but you owed it to them to at least say a yes or no.
“I’m Y/N, by the way” you said finally and they all smiled, acknowledging that new piece of information.
“You should he added to our group chat. We find each other every race day, catch up and have some free food, you know” Lily nudged you and you laughed a little. You hand her your phone, allowing her to do whatever.
When she hands it back to you, you see that you’ve been added to a group chat titled “the gas station ⚡️”. You frown in confusion and look up at them.
“The gas station?” You raise a brow and some of them laugh.
“We give them fuel, now don’t we girls?” One of them raised her brow and you just covered your face and laughed. A little too hard.
“We’ve got the same sense of humor. We’ll go a long way” a girl on your right patted your back as you collected yourself.
“Ugh” you sigh, finally able to hold in your laughter.
When the race starts, you come completely undone. Screaming with everyone and hugging anyone around when necessary. Lando finishes with P-3 and you couldn’t wait to celebrate that with him at the podium.
“You get to celebrate on the podium!” Some of the girls scream and it was just then that you realize how amazing this whole experience has been.
These girls have never met you in their lives, your boyfriend just won against all their boyfriends and they had every reason to be full of themselves, but they were nothing but sweet and lovely to you, making you feel so welcome and for the first time ever since you started dating Lando, you find someone who’d be as excited for him as you. Because they know what’s it like to watch the love of your life win at something he’s passionate about.
“Go go go!” They push you out so you could get to the podium for celebration.
You all get to the track to celebrate with your significant others. You spot a pretty face and curly hair in the crowd. For once, you really don’t care that everyone’s watching. That this could be on live television. You just run, jumping in his arms. He holds you tightly, spinning you around as his sweet laughter fills your ears, muting any other possible sound around you.
When Lando finally puts you down, you basically scream in his face.
“P-3, Lan! That was amazing!” He laughs at your reaction and you laugh with him.
“I knew you were here. I couldn’t let you down” he says and you hug him tightly. He hugs you back.
“You’re my everything. I do this for you” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. You close your eyes, praying your heart won’t explode from pure happiness and content.
Had you just known how amazing everyone would be, you would’ve come sooner. Had you known how much it meant to Lando, you would’ve come even sooner.
You pull away and kiss him, making up for all the time you spent feeling nervous. For not shouting about this from the rooftops. For staying behind on all the fun and welcoming, lovely souls you you met today.
“It seems that today’s race gets a fairytale ending for Lando Norris and his girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N”
#lando norris fluff#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fanfictions#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris angst#f1 fanfiction#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 angst#f1 fluff#formula one angst#formula one fluff#formula 1 fic#formula one fic#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic
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Can I request a Smut with Alcina and reader where reader was actually sent to eliminate Alcina but then Alcina kinda like catches and hate fucks her? Only consensual ofc but something akin to enemies to lovers?
🐰-anon
𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙・゚・。
A/N: I LOVE this idea omg?? I’m so incredibly sorry for how long it actually took me to write this. With my classes starting up again, I’ve been so overwhelmed and busy.
This may not be exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!
Tags: Enemies to lovers dynamic, talks of death & torture, teasing, blood, fear play (?), praise kink, submissive/ dominant dynamics, top Alcina, bottom reader, unwanted yearning, delusions, fingering, degradation if you squint, hand riding, daddy Alcina vibes, ambiguous ending, I think that’s it lmk if I missed any!!
Word count: 2.4K
I apologize for any grammar mistakes, as of current it’s unedited, but I’m so tired so I’ll do it later tomorrow.
———————————————————————-
You had one mission. One seemingly normal, manageable mission.
All you needed to do was observe her, and gather as much information as you could about her.
Alcina Dimitrescu.
That name did wonders. It almost excited you as much as it infuriated you. The damn nerve of that woman was what drove you so impossibly close to the edge.
Her heated gaze burnt into the back of your mind. Gold ripples clouds your vision.
You didn’t have time for this. Any of it really. Chris, along with several other BSSA members would be there any day to take them out. Every monstrosity they call ‘family’.
In the four short weeks at Castle Dimitrescu, you unintentionally became Alcina’s head maiden.
How you managed to accomplish that was beyond you. It did make you wonder. You hadn’t exactly done anything in particular to acquire such a position from the mistress of the castle. Your mind buzzed with possibilities. Was she onto you? No. Of course she wasn’t, she couldn’t be, could she?
With shaky hands, you took a deep breath trying to further compose yourself. The portable tray in your hands suddenly feels like a ton of bricks.
The lady was expecting her afternoon tea and isn’t too keen on waiting. Her patience grew weary by the moment.
Slowly you brought your right hand and gently knocked on the brooding wood that distinguishes right from wrong, safe and dangerous.
A muffled “Come in,” filled the unorthodox silence. Leisurely you opened the door, making sure to keep your eyes lowered as you approached the ornate vanity, and set down the tray.
Lady Dimitrescu’s predatory gaze burned holes as she watched you intently. Seemingly lost in her trance, she doesn’t realize when you’re standing right in front of her, tea cup in hand.
“Lady Dimitrescu?” you said questioningly, curious where her mind might be.
“Yes, sorry, dear. Thank you.” She replies quickly, taking the seemingly hand painted tea cup. A faint metallic smell infiltrated the small space between you. It was no secret what the lady of the castle preferred in her afternoon tea. Regardless, a shiver ran down your spine at the mere thought of who that could be.
“Is that all my lady?” You asked as you made your way back to the vanity to retrieve the silver tray.
“Actually, there is something I wanted to discuss with you.” She said slowly. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
As if you even have a choice in the matter. Alcina Dimitrescu, always playing with her food. Utterly ridiculous.
“Something makes me think it’s not really up for debate, is it?” You ask knowingly, growing a bit bold.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She responds teasingly, while smirking. Vague as ever.
Even though she’s a ruthless vile woman, whos committed several dozen atrocities, you have to admit, she’s painfully attractive
Beauty and confidence radiate off her, making her all the more alluring. The air around her is absolutely intoxicating. You know it’s wrong, but you just can’t help yourself.
Tirelessly, you try to derail your mind that convinces you, you need more, that you need her..
Each and every humaneless act she’s committed plays before your eyes, yet the image of a broken woman stuck in her own mortality alway wins.
“Well, I hope I can acquire whatever you desire to know.” You reply plainly.
She eyes you almost cautiously. Observing you shamelessly. Her heated gaze makes you all too aware of the situation you’re in. The danger, the unknown, the claws of a monster.
Red paints your vision. For a moment, you feel you might just lose consciousness. A terrible feeling churning in your gut. This could go one of two ways. Either you talk and she miraculously lets you go or you talk and she uses your blood as wall decorum. One option seeming more likely than the other.
“Oh don’t play coy with me, darling. I have a brain, you know.” She says suddenly breaking the silence. “I must admit though, you do have a good facade. Dare I even say, you almost fooled me.”
Option two then.
Your heart beated rapidly at the confrontation. A dull ringing sounded in your ears. This is as close to death as you ever want to get. If you make it out alive, Chris will never hear the end of this.
You opened your mouth to speak, but just as fast as it opened, it shut. You were genuinely at a loss of words. She’s a clever woman, sure, but how did she know? Or even better, how long has she known? And if awhile, why hasn’t she sent you to the cellar?
Your impending doom hung above your head as your mind scrambled to find any sort of excuse, or anything really to get yourself out of this situation, with all your limbs intact.
“Don’t go all shy now, pet.” Lady Dimitrescu says as she leans closer, filling the gap between the two of you.
Pet? Your brain nearly short circuited at the nickname. “I.. I..” You mumbled lamley, still trying to formulate a coherent sentence. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t anything you could say or do to protect yourself. All you could do now was draw your inevitable death out for as long as you can.
“You know, I considered killing you when I found out. Or maybe sending you to the cellar to be my daughter's newest plaything.” Lady Dimitrescu says lowly. “But..” she drags out slowly, anticipation and fear consuming you as you waited for what she would say next.
“But?..” You repeated slowly, wondering what else she could possibly say.
You subconsciously leaned forward slightly, hanging on each and every word that spilled from her crimson lips. Exactly as she wanted. Eagerness coursed through your body like electricity.
“But, I thought something better. After all, it would be a shame to dispose of such beauty.” She finally responded, once again leaving suspense in the air.
Like a pole nailed to the ground, you were so impossibly still; you even forgot to blink. What exactly did she mean by that, you thought to yourself.
Lady Dimtrescu throws her head back in laughter at the apparent confusion painted along your face.
“Come here, now.” She demanded, no longer laughing as she was momentarily.
Quickly, deciding to keep your head as long as you could, you were standing in front of Lady Dimitrescu in seconds.
“Good.” She praised with a fond smile, and by the Gods, was she a sight to see.
“Now then, I’m going to tell you exactly how this is going to go. Do you understand me?” She asked authoritatively, leaving no room for retort.
While maintaining eye contact, you haphazardly nodded your head in understanding.
“Oh no, sweetheart. You’re going to have to do much better than that. Use your words like the big girl you are.” She responded.
Nervously, you swallowed the lump residing in your throat, “Y-yes, Lady Dimitrescu.” you whispered.
“Good girl.” She praised in return.
Her affirmation made your head fuzzy and core ache with want. There was absolutely no way this was happening right now. Whatever happened to her being the enemy?
Smirking, she grabbed the side of your face and ran her pale, slender finger down the expanse of your jaw, hooking two fingers under your chin and forcing your eyes to meet.
Your skin felt hot. Feverishly so, almost like you were lit on fire. Her burning gaze keeps you trapped in a fevernet daze. There’s no going back now, not even if you really wanted to.
“How about we play a little game?” She asked slyly.
A game? What kind of game? One wear she ruthlessly tears my head off? Or maybe chases me around the castle for sport? I’m not sure I'd like to play any ‘game’ with her, you thought to yourself.
“What do you have in mind?” You asked cautiously, but curiously.
For a moment, she was silent. Her eyes tracing your figure up and down. It was hard to read her, she had an impressive poker face, but as the lady of the castle you didn’t expect anything less. Alcina was a force of nature, which was what made her so incredibly dangerous.
A beat.
The palpable silence was consuming.
Then suddenly Lady Dimitrescu raised her hand and firmly patted her curvy thigh, “Sit.” she said indifferently.
Strangely, you’re more scared of sitting on her thigh than her slicing you into millions of bits and pieces. There was absolutely no way you were about to sit on Alcina Dimitrescu’s thigh.
Wide eyed, you stared at Lady Dimitrescu astounded. You almost couldn’t believe what was happening, no, you couldn’t believe it. Surly, this is some sick and twisted dream your mind conjured to torture you. You weren’t exactly into her, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least morbidly curious about her.
“I don’t like repeating myself, dear.” She said mockingly, your distress clearly fueling her. She wasn’t quite sure yet, but something reeled her in. She was almost certain had you been anyone else you’d be long gone by now. But this was different, you were different.
Slowly but surely you made your way to the large pristine chair, and hoisted yourself onto the expanse of her leg. Embarrassed, you faced away from her and diverted your gaze to the floor.
Expertly, Lady Dimitrescu wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you flush against her front. Heat burns your cheeks at the quick action.
“Much better.” She purred in your ear as she slowly licked the shell.
Heat went straight to your core as you tried to close your thighs. You couldn’t help but squirm at the feeling of her hot breath down your neck.
Her hand drew lazy patterns on your leg as she slowly bought her hand up to where you desperately wanted her.
“Do you want it?’ She asked in a hushed voice as if she didn’t already know the answer.
Yes. Of course you wanted it, even if it was against your better judgment. Figuratively and literally, you undeniably fucked. There was no way in hell you’d be able to tell Chris about this. You’d most likely lose your job and any shred of dignity you have after this.
A groan slipped past your lips, “yes.”
“Yes what? What do you want?” She replied teasingly. She wanted to poke and prod till you burst. She knew exactly what buttons to push to evoke a reaction.
Your brain fogged with indescribable want. The neurons in your brain failing to cooperate and make any logical response.
“You.” you said needily, almost like a whine. Oh how pathetic you looked. She hadn’t even done anything and you were already ever so desperate for her. She loved it, craved it even.
So submissive, so compliant.
“What do you want me to do, darling?” She asked in response. Of course she knew, but how amusing would it be to make you voice it to her?
“Anything, just do anything, please.” You begged while clenching your thighs once again. You were sure your core was absolutely dripping by now.
“Begging are we?” She asked rhetorically. You could practically hear her shit eating smile.
How she loved it when you begged. The sound was addicting to put it plainly. She could definitely get used to hearing it.
Finally, she brought her hand all the way up your thigh to your aching center. Her slender finger rubbing your folds through the fabric of your underwear.
You gasped at the sudden contact as you pushed yourself closer to her.
“Oh my, you’re absolutely drenched.” She teased. “Is this all for me?” She asked breathily in your ear, just as before,
All you could do was nod in response., your mind too taken with the way her fingers felt against you.
Seemingly tired of the foreplay, Lady Dimitrescu pushed the side of your black lacy thong to the side, exposing your glistening core. A chill ran down your spine at the sudden change in temperature.
“Absolutely beautiful, darling.” She praised as she ran her middle finger through your folds. A low moan erupted from your chest at the notion.
“More, I need more..” You begged, feeling yourself grow impatient.
A smirk plastered on her face as Lady Dimitrescu had a borderline evil idea. “As you wish.” She replied as she quickly plunged two fingers into your soaping core.
You threw your head back onto her shoulder at the rough treatment moaning loudly. Her pace was bruising, but the stretch was undeniably delicious. There was something so attractive about Lady Dimitrescu man handling you.
As she continued,your moans were near pornographic. You were sure anyone in the castle knew what the lady was up to. Not that you care all that much, but it’s still a bit embarrassing.
Your hips jerked up into her hand as she used her palm to apply more pressure on your swollen clit. You felt euphoric. There was nothing in the world you could compare to the way Lady Dimitrescu was making you feel. Even if she did kill you when she was finished, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” She asked while prepping kisses down your neck.
You moaned in response, not being able to form a coherent response.
“Good girl.” She uttered whilst kissing your cheek. “You’re doing so good for me, darling.” She encouraged.
“Come undone for me, show me how much of a needy whore you are for me.” She said as she curled her fingers into your sweet spot.
As if her plethora of praise wasn’t enough, she was so precise, so experienced with her fingers.
With one final thrust, you came all over her fingers. Your juices running down her hand, and ruining your underwear.
She finished with a few slow thrusts while you rode out your high. Once your breath evened out, she skillfully removed her fingers from your core.
“You did wonderfully.” She praised once again while placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
This Lady Dimitrescu was foreign. Incomprehensible even. And yet, for some reason, you adored her this way. Soft spoken and light, she almost seemed human, almost.
What’s to come after this is completely beyond you, all you can do is pray it’ll all come full circle.
#resident evil 8#alcina dimitrescu#re8#resident evil#alcina dimitriscu x reader#shameless smut#enimes to lovers#alcina#alcina x reader#gwendoline christie#lady alcina dimitrescu#re8 village#wlw fanfic#resident evil village
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Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx
Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.
Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader
wc: 4,600
Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.
Enjoy this garbage!
…
Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college.
As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way.
It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars.
Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time.
“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.”
You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson.
“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”
“Don’t be crass.”
“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe.
Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”
The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.
Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind.
Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.
It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.
When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.
Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.”
You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.
“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”
“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”
Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest.
Her hands—
Her hands—
What is wrong with you, Joe?
Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin. Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep.
…
Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains.
“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued. The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before.
The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.
As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.
Right in front of you! What is going on?
“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”
Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.
There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”
About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags.
Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off.
Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.
“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.
“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear.
When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world.
You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”
You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.
…
The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.
“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.”
“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”
“Ouch, that hurts me.”
“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right.
“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.”
Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”
“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.”
Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout.
Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”
“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”
“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.
He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you. He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too.
His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”
“Then who else would I be?”
“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious.
“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”
“You too are good friends then?”
“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape.
“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.
Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”
“None of the girls from high school? Never?”
“Not one.”
You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do.
People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”
“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt.
“Can I walk you home?”
“I would love that.”
Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?”
“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him.
“His parents remind me of my own.”
Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”
“Can I ask what happened?”
Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”
“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”
“Hey now,”
“Sorry.” You take his hands.
He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.”
Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.
When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”
“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”
…
The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away.
He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.
…
Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles.
His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse.
Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it.
Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.
You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”
“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”
“I’m not.”
“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”
“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.
“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”
You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.
After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak.
“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in.
“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”
“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.
Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”
“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”
“I know.
“Really?”
“Pocock made sure I know.”
The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”
“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”
You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat.
You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist.��
“Can I—may I kiss you?”
Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart.
“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”
...
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.
-the author
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Hello! Can I plz request Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x reader where he meets the reader and is attracted to her but after he sees her transform into a beautiful Light Fury dragon (How To Train Your Dragon) he's like: they have to be mine.
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Female! Lightfury Shifter! Reader
summary: ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ɪɴ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴇxᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴀʏ; ᴡʜᴇɴ ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʜɪꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇʙᴜɪʟᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ ꜱᴜꜰꜰᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴏɴꜱ, ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏɢɴɪᴢᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ. ʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴍᴀɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ…
warnings: cursing, slight angst, fluff, Lucifer + reader are secretly in love and are complete dorks about it
words: 6k+
a/n: I saw this request and immediately got to work; I love HTTYD, so I hope you enjoy its inclusion in this fanfic. I was thinking about adding 1-2 more parts to this; just let me know in the replies if you guys even want a second part to this; wanna give y'all what you want. Thanks again, anon, for requesting this! ^_____^
A Dragon's Vow
(Part 1?)
Lucifer had been standing in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, speaking with his daughter, Charlie, when he first met you. He had come by the morning after extermination to check on her, as well as the other residents of her hotel (for whom he didn't particularly care for, in all honesty; especially not that Alastor fellow).
They had been speaking about renovations to the hotel after the events that took place prior and during the extermination. The hotel had suffered many damages to both its interior and exterior; damages that normally would take one a while to fix if they weren't in Hell. He promised Charlie his help with fixing whatever needed fixing.
And that's when he first saw you.
Everyone was gathered in the hotel lobby, residents and all. His eyes had begun scanning around all the potential bodies that would be helping with the reconstruction of his daughter's life-long dream of a project, when he had spotted a head of pure white hair in the group's mass. He squinted his eyes, as he couldn't remember seeing such a color that stood out as much as it did, but when he saw your face it was all over for him.
You were absolutely stunning.
Your hair had to have been a result of your transformation into the afterlife. He had never known any being to have such a pure color for hair while still being alive. At least, not naturally.
Your body, from what he could see, appeared to be dusted with white glitter markings, highlighting your already beautiful skin. The light coming through the broken windows of the hotel seemed to gravitate towards your figure, as if sensing the need to accentuate how unique your presence actually was.
In Lucifer's mind, it was almost like looking straight at an angel.
Only was he shaken from his thoughts when he finally noticed the pair of snapping fingers that had been in-front of his face for who knows how long. They belonged to his daughter.
"Dad!" Charlie exclaimed, continuing the snap of her fingers in-front of his eyes until he finally gathered his bearings with a blink, turning to look at her.
"Huh- oh, did you need something dear?" He asked, blinking his eyes slowly, like a toad who'd been sitting on a log all day without interaction. Charlie gave a sigh and put her hands together as she then tried again to reach her father with words.
"I said," She began, a smile creeping its way up onto her face, "Dad, I would like you to meet our newest resident to the Hotel! Her name is Y/N! And, Y/N, this is my dad, Lucifer!"
Then, "I just wanted to introduce you both since we will all be spending lots of time together, trying to rebuild the hotel! I want everyone to get along!"
It was just then that he had realized that you were now also standing in-front of him, alongside his daughter. Your beautifully colored eyes were pinning him under their gaze. Your sparkling skin looked even more enticing up close. It really made him wonder what sort of hybrid you must've been to be able to adorn such a naturally beautiful look. Your eyes had looked at Charlie with such a softness, before turning their now piercing daggers onto him.
Wait...did his daughter say...Y/N?
That had to be a coincidence, he was sure. Such a familiar name, it was just making him think of those he used to know.
Yet, the leap of his heart in his ribcage didn't fail to go unnoticed.
He wasn't given much time to delve deeper into his confused thoughts, because he was already being pushed slightly closer towards you, as a means to encourage him to introduce himself instead of just standing there like an oaf, he assumed was Charlie's idea behind it all.
A goofy grin overtook his face as he took a step forward on his own accord, without any help from his daughter. He was going to nail this 'introduction'. Or so he thought.
As he began the simple motion of extending his arm for a polite handshake, he was surprised to see that, once he re-opened his eyes after a blink, you were no longer standing in-front of him.
Rather, in your place now stood a white, glittery colored dragon, lips pulled back in a snarl, baring your teeth, snout wrinkling with the motion.
Lucifer hardly had any time to react, let alone back up, before you let out an earth-rumbling roar; the sound caused him to instinctively reach a hand up to steady his top hat atop his head, to make sure it wasn't blown off by the force of your bellowing sound. He shut his eyes against the harsh gust of wind that suddenly swept past his face following the noise; the complaints and confused murmurs of the other hotel residents were barely audible as he was the one experiencing this head-on. More to the face than head, but same thing for him.
Once the whirlwind of noise had stopped, he opened his eyes just in time to see you turn tail and flee, going up the main stairs and off to one side of the staircase, disappearing deeper into the hotel. No one went after you. He supposed from that reaction he got just from trying to shake your hand, that was what you most preferred.
In that moment, he realized that Charlie was once again trying to tell him something, but his eyes were still trained on the last spot you'd been.
"Heh...sorry, Dad." Charlie said, rubbing the back of her neck with her big, awkward smile that he knew so well; she got it from him. "I-I forgot to mention that she's still a bit skittish. She was pretty banged up when we first found her during extermination. I've noticed that she doesn't seem to want to be touched or even remotely looked at for too long, for that matter. I shouldn't have pushed her or you, I'm so sor-"
"Charlie, it's fine." Lucifer assured, finally turning his body towards his daughter as they talked, leaning on his cane nonchalantly. "New sinners always need time to warm up to things down here! I can...always say 'hi' later." He assured, giving her a big grin of his own.
His eyes found themselves instinctually looking back over at the stairs and railing, then down the dark hallway where you had disappeared deeper into the hotel. A soft glimmer lit his eyes.
So it was true. He had thought you looked a little familiar...maybe a bit too familiar when he first laid eyes on you. The white hair might have been what threw him off to start, but there was no mistaking it now. The Lightfury form was a dead giveaway for anyone who knew you personally.
It was you.
Y/N. His acquaintance; the person who had tried to help him rebel against God, prior to his falling. Always he had wondered what had happened to you, being his helper in his schemes, after he fell. What had God done to you? Were you punished as well? He had never known and still didn't, for that matter.
At the time he had hoped, even though it was selfish to wish and he knew it, that you too, would be cast from the clouds and bound to join him in the afterlife down in the various cities of Hell.
What he had gathered from your sudden appearance here, at his daughter's Hotel, told him that you were most likely still living in Heaven, and probably against your will. Whether you were still an angel or not, he didn't know.
All he knew was that you weren't where you were supposed to be.
But he was determined to find out why you were here, and how on Earth you were still managing to be as beautiful as the last day he laid eyes on you.
Whilst everyone else was out helping with fixing hotel damages, Lucifer had snuck back into the hotel; he was searching for you, to put it plainly. You had caught his interest earlier, and he just wanted to apologize to you for being so forward and making you uncomfortable enough to scurry away like you had. He was also terrified that he had already made a horrible impression on such a beautiful woman, which whom used to work right alongside him back when they both spent their days in Heaven. He had lost you once; he couldn't afford for that to happen again, especially not when he could help it.
He practically skipped up the stairs two at a time to the second floor of the hotel, as that was where he had watched you disappear an hour or so ago. He assumed that meant your room was somewhere nearby.
It surely didn't take him too long to find your room. The side of the door exposed to the hallway had some unique-looking, luminescent vines hanging down from the top of it; some tiny glowing crystal shards were embedded into the wood of the doorframe.
Lucifer stood outside that door for a good five minutes. He swallowed many times, as if trying to physically push the nerves back into his body.
What was he supposed to say? What should he do? How should he act? Would you even let him near you? Did you remember him at all? Did you...hate him?
He remembered receiving some pretty angry sounding letters from you when he fell from Heaven. Claiming to him about how the angels, as your side of the punishment, had started using you for tests to try and better understand your hybrid anatomy; forcing you into executing angels who refused to follow the rules with your plasma blasts. He had then sent a letter back, asking why they didn't cast you out like they did him. You told him it was because the angels deemed you 'too valuable' to just be thrown down into 'that wasteland', as they put it.
Lucifer shook his head. He was still stalling. You were just on the other side of this door, someone who he used to call his partner in crime; his friend. He sighed, straightened his outfit whilst taking a deep breath, then knocked a total of three times.
He waited patiently, tapping his foot outside the door silently, mentally willing for you to open the door and possibly (hopefully) greet him with open arms.
But like all the other things pertaining to your complicated relationship status, he knew that was amongst the many things that was very unlikely.
He raised his fist to knock again but there was no need. The door opened a crack. He stiffened in surprise, moving his head to peer into the small crack the sudden opening provided. A soft glow could be seen within the room but besides that, the interior was shrouded in darkness. Although you yourself had not physically come to the door to let him in, he took this as an invitation rather than a deterrent. Stepping inside, wincing at the small creak of the door on its hinges, he shut it behind him without so much as a sound.
Lucifer looked around, taking in the interior design of your room. The half shrouded in blacks and greys looked like any of the other hotel rooms. It held a fancy, well-kept king sized bed; a nicely crafted wooden desk with a chair, a small carpet under it additionally to avoid scratching the floors; a large dresser; a decent sized standing mirror beside the bed; a small nightstand on either side of said bed.
The other half of your room was a totally different story completely.
And he had to admit, it was pretty amazing.
The second half was an expanse of forest-like figures. It held high rocks that seemed to stretch to the endless ceiling of the room, while the original half of your room had a short-stopped ceiling just high enough for five-star comfort. Said rocks held many various colored crystals on them, each which glowed a slightly different color than its neighbor, each bearing that welcoming yet cautioning signal to any beholder.
The wooden floor gave way to a grassy texture; the grass was glowing lightly, looking more like an expansive patch of algae rather than everyday grass. He could tell it was most likely very soft though, as it swayed lightly, subtly, as if a draft were coming through from somewhere not visible to the naked eye. There was even a little pond in the distance he could see!
As he thought to himself more and more, he realized that he did know what this stuff was. Landscape one would see in The Hidden World. In your Heaven days, the both of you would sit around for hours and swap stories with one another, going all the way back to the times when you were alive and what life was like for you. You always spoke to him about The Hidden World; the homeland and birthplace of all the dragons of your kind. From what you had told him about it, he had deemed it pretty amazing in his mind. He remembered you speaking about the glowing necessities, the luminescent markings on dragons, the crystals you sometimes liked to collect, and the overall peaceful atmosphere. He was able to get a general image in his mind of all the things pertaining to the homeland that you mentioned; looking at this area of your room now, he told himself it was probably safe to assume that this whole area was a resemblance of where you come from. He felt as if he could almost puff his chest out in pride for remembering something so important to you. Of course, he had to stay humble now if he wanted any chance of getting you to talk with him once again; maybe not like old times, but a greeting would be nice, surely.
You had said that The Hidden World was truly a place that you felt peace for the first time in your life whilst you were alive. Then you had proceeded to tell him after that, that he now provided that same feeling for you. That sense of safety. Security. Belonging.
As he made his way across the normal part of the room to get to the additional beauty, that's when he noticed you there. You were, hanging from a bare tree by the tail, it looked like. Your beautiful, white wings were wrapped around yourself except for a tiny crack in their merging.
And in this crack between your wings, was a thin-slitted pupiled eye staring straight at him.
The sight caused him to freeze in his tracks, with one foot now in the glowing, algae-like grass. He gave a nervous smile your way, which only caused you to narrow said eye further and uncurl your wings. Like the most skilled acrobatic, he watched as you unfurled your long, slender dragon body; walking along the branch, you then jumped down to the grass below.
Your eyes were still slits as you approached him now, slowly, cautiously. Almost as if he were the prey and you the predator. Honestly, that's how Lucifer felt right now.
But then, instead of pouncing, you just stopped and stared at him. Your long, elegant tail lashed slowly, barley touching the grass as it swayed freely, yet with a controlled fashion. Eyes still narrowed, you let out a snort of annoyance, rolling your eyes, before tossing your head in an irritated gesture and finally coming to sit on the grass, still a ways away from him.
"...You're ruining my grass..." You huffed, narrowed eyes taking him in, raking over him as if you could pick him up and toss him out of your proximity with just a gaze.
He blinked at your dragon form, confused. Then he looked down, seeing how one of his shoes was sunken slightly into the delicate, glowing grass. He gave a sheepish smile, quickly removing his foot and placing it back on the hardwood, rubbing his neck with a nervous chuckle. Although he knew there was a human soul beneath the dragon you were currently transformed into, he also knew that you could probably reach him in a faster time than he could scream. So, he wanted to try and keep you happy, especially if it meant you would keep talking to him, even if in a condescending tone. And especially since he didn't know your current feelings towards him.
"Sorry, I-"
"Save it. I don't want to hear your excuses, Lucifer. Don't you think you've given enough of those already these past hundred years?"
He looked up at you, eyes shining with a little bit of hurt. That might be the first time you had ever used his full name since he first met you. He was so used to you calling him Luci.
Lucifer just...didn't sound right. Not coming from you.
"I-"
"Then, you come in here and trample my grass; the same grass of my homeland; the grass my ancestors before me walked on!"
"I-its just grass, darling-"
Your head snapped in his direction quite violently due to the nickname and his response. Your body stood up on its own accord and began slowly stalking over to him.
"Just...grass? Just GRASS?! I was born on said grass-"
You continued walking towards him, pupils back to those dangerous slits that signaled your current emotional state; upset and angry. You kept rambling to him about the grass and its importance to your true home. You got so close to him to the point that he had to start taking steps backward, until there was no room left to do so. He was at the door to your room, back pressed roughly to it as your dragon form prowled closer to him, flat snout right in-front of his face; he could practically feel the hot air being emitted from your nostrils. By this time, you were nearing the end of your rant.
"and at the end of the day-" You let out a hiss, baring your teeth. "...it really is just grass."
Your face relaxed almost immediately. Your wrinkled snout became smooth again, the luminescent glows from the vines on the door making it sparkle lightly. Your bared teeth dropped their snarl, turning your dragon lips into a sly smirk. You turned tail and lazily sauntered back to the grassy expanse of glowing vegetation. Doing a few circles in one spot you then decided to lay down on your side, eyes never leaving his. Almost as if you were taunting him to draw nearer.
"I- oh. Wait, what? W-What-"
Lucifer sighed and awkwardly leaned on his cane, rubbing his temples. He knew you to be intimidating back then but holy shit, now? Now thinking about it, he never really had experienced your fury head on before. He hoped he never had to.
Seemingly sensing his hesitation, you sighed.
"Oh for fucks sake, Lucifer. I was kidding. You of all people should know how dramatic I like to be."
Seeing as he still didn't move a muscle, as if wanting to respect your personal space and not get any closer if you really didn't want him to, your cylinder-shaped ears flattened against your head, an almost worried look overtaking your features.
As if he didn't believe you were real.
"Am I really that scary?"
As soon as that question left your lips, he was by your side. Having teleported, it made you jump a little when he so suddenly appeared by your side on the grass, sitting cross-legged.
You let your muscles relax once again, letting out a silent breath. You offered him a toothy, cute dragon smile. He gave you his big, signature grin right back.
"No, no, no. You're one of the most beautiful dragons I have ever seen! Absolutely no one can compare to your beauty, light one!"
With the way he spoke, as if he was presenting a speech, it made you let out a huff and a snort, which was also the dragon equivalent of a laugh in most cases. It also made your heart thump rapidly in your chest, hearing him use the nickname he often used for you back when you both resided above the clouds together.
Light one.
You figured it was only fair to change back into your human body, since it had been so long since you had seen one another in person, that he deserved to talk with you face-to-face and not to the face of a dragon, no matter how much he claimed you were beautiful both ways.
In a span of seconds, there was no longer a large dragon sitting beside Lucifer in the grass, but rather another individual, just as himself. Your legs were crossed just as his were, mimicking his body language. The two of you sat in silence for a long while, although throughout it all you could feel his eyes on you. With how quick he was to reassure you of your beauty, you knew he must be dying to ask you a bunch of questions; catch up on all that you had missed of one another's life since his falling and sparse letters in between.
You sighed and folded your hands in your lap, looking at your soft, glitter-dusted skin. It was hard to think of things to say when you really need not say anything at all. The silence, for you at least, said all that words could not and so much more beyond that limitation.
"Look, Luci, I-"
A sudden force knocked you onto your side, arms wrapping around you in the span of a second, squeezing you tightly. You yelped in surprise, although it was quite obvious the only person it could be.
"Oh my goodness, it really is you!" Lucifer exclaimed happily, eyes shut tight as he buried his face into your neck as your hug proceeded. "I knew it! Oh, I knew it as soon as you transformed back in the lobby- when you called me Luci just now. Oh my gosh, it really is you!"
He sounded exactly like a little kid might on Christmas, just getting their first train set, with many more to come after that within the following years. Alongside that excitement usually followed laughter, and oh was that universal sound flowing in the room at this moment.
You were both hugging and laughing to your hearts content after you had gotten over the initial shock of him bowling you over. For a little man, he surely had strength, that was for certain. Yet you knew best that he was not to be underestimated.
"Shit- yes, yes, it's me, I promise! I know the looks a bit new, but its me!" You said, trying to speak coherently through his own rambling and excitement of having finally found his friend after so long. The person who had been by his side through all his rights and wrongs whilst in Heaven. His wingwoman. His ride or die.
The person whom he had loved since first glance, but was too much of a coward to ever admit it. He always knew you deserved better.
"I-I'm sorry, I just...I can't believe you're really here! After...after all this time. Oh, Y/N...how I've missed you..."
Lucifers voice had dropped to a whisper at this point. You had to strain your ears to hear him, but made sure you did. You always heard him, whether he thought so or not.
"I've missed you too, Luci...really. I'm so sorry we got separated. I should've fought harder for your safety, I should've tried harder to convince the council, I-"
A finger found its way to your lips, shushing you with one, quick motion.
"Stop. Just...stop." Lucifer said, brows furrowed, a sad look overtaking his features as he sighed, eyes closed. "It was my fault for even convincing you to help me in the first place. I should've just kept you out of it."
He sniffled softly, turning his body away from yours a bit, not wanting you to see how emotional he was getting. He could still remember the way you cried his name as you got a front-row seat to watching him fall, courtesy of Adam.
Adam. That son of a bitch. He could only imagine the cruel and unusual punishments the sadistic man had thrown at you in return for helping the Devil himself (although he hadn't had that role back then just yet).
"What have they done to you...you know, since I left? They knew we had a good connection. I can only imagine the things they did to you as a result of helping me. I know you said they refuse to kill you or cast you out..." He muttered, now having his knees up to his chest, his chin resting on top of them.
You frowned, mainly in pity for him, watching him seem to curl up into himself like this. You had been thinking about all the ways the separation had been hurting you all these years, but now you had come to realize that you hadn't done much thinking about how it was affecting Lucifer. You figured that, since his fall, he had been doing just dandy down in Hell with his wife, Lilith. God, you hated that woman, or at least you had when they had decided to cast Lilith down into Hell with Lucifer instead of you. Many nights you had cried yourself to sleep, wishing so desperately that you could be down in this wasteland with him, comforting him about the recent events. You knew Lilith most likely wasn't doing it, and even if she was, you knew you could do better. He was your truest friend. You knew him both inside and out. Better than anyone.
"Its not of importance what they did and still do to me, Luci-"
"Yes it is! It's very important!" He burst out, making you raise an eyebrow. "It was supposed to be my job to protect you from any harm that came our way, remember? Remember what I said? I-I promised to always protect you from danger, to keep you safe, and I couldn't even do that without messing up!"
He threw his hands up, exasperated, using a gloved hand to cover his eyes and rub them. You gave him a soft, sad smile, one you were not sure if he saw, but knew he could sense. He was being way too hard on himself, you knew.
You had made the choice to help him, and wouldn't change a thing about that decision.
"Lucifer..." You spoke lightly, as if speaking to a scared animal. In a way, you were. "None of what happened to me is your fault. None of what is still happening to me is your fault. If someone has to take the fault, it should be me. I knew what I was potentially getting myself into when I agreed to help you. Those possible consequences never mattered to me."
You had to look away from him for a split second, some tears falling from your eyes as you blinked, then onto the lush grass beneath both your bodies. A deep breath inflated your chest before you allowed yourself to continue talking.
"All that ever mattered to me..." You began again, voice shaky as you maintained your composure, "...was the fact that I was getting to help my closest friend. The first person in Heaven who welcomed me, took me in with open wings. The first person to ever hug me. The first person to show me how unique and special I was, as well as my abilities and hybrid form. The first person who...didn't look at me like I was some sort of monster, due to the fact that I could transform into a dragon."
This seemed to shock him, for he raised his head to stare at you once again, cheeks lightly tear stained.
"People thought you a monster?" He asked, eyes wide and confused. "Why? H-How-"
You shrugged and picked at the grass beneath you with a finger.
"People tend to be scared of the things they don't understand, Luci. Things they've never seen before, such as a hybrid like myself. Even angels get scared sometimes, believe it or not."
Lucifer was at a loss for words. The angels had seen you as a monster when you first appeared at their gates? Someone as beautiful, majestic, and powerful as you? He truly couldn't believe that. He made a silent promise to himself in that very moment to give Adam a little extra punch for treating you like that upon your first visit to Heaven. You had never told him, either. Or, at least you hadn't had the time to before he fell.
"Apparently." Lucifer grumbled, whilst rolling his eyes. "Damn idiots never know what the hell they're talking about..."
At this, you raised both your eyebrows, and couldn't help the small giggle that left your lips at his protective nature. After all of this time not seeing one another, he was still as protective over you as the first day you met. It was refreshing to see that some things really never did change when it came to the King of Hell. Since the day he became so.
He perked up as you began to giggle, a shot of red flashing across his features from embarrassment. Then, despite himself, he too began to chuckle.
The steady rhythm of his heart made itself well known in his ears as the two of you continued to laugh together, just like old times in the clouds.
Although when you were together it felt like no time had passed at all, you both were aware that that was far from the truth.
You had some catching up to do.
The hellish sun beat down on the Hazbin Hotel. All the other residents, including Charlie, were outside helping to rebuild and design a new look for the previously destroyed hotel.
You and Lucifer had finally come out from your room after chatting it up for what had to have been over an hour. It was nice, now knowing the truth behind some of the things that had happened to him, and you were sure he felt the same about the things pertaining to you. He had promised you he would deliver quite the ruthless punch to Adam's groin when he saw him next, due to the things he had put you through after his falling. This had made you roll your eyes, but the idea wasn't dismissed. You'd allow it. Maybe even a couple times. Especially if it meant you got to see Lucifer happy.
Now, both of you were currently outside with everyone else, helping to rebuild the structure of his daughters hotel. You were in the form of your Lightfury, whilst Lucifer was standing proudly on your back as you flew laps around the perimeter of the hotel, giving him range to shoot blasts of magic, where building parts would then materialize before ones eyes.
You craned your neck around to look at the little man on your back, who was already looking down at you, smiling like the dork you knew him to be. This was almost like the perfect moment, especially after the deep conversation you both had back in the hotel room-
"DAD! No riding my residents, please! I'm glad you're making friends though! Proud of you! I just don't think we have the insurance to cover an injury yet!"
Charlie's voice cut through the atmosphere like a knife, causing both of you to startle and look down at her. She had a finger pointed up at you both, an adoring smile on her face; following it were the rest of the residents eyes. You both were now the spotlight of attention.
Your smooth-skinned dragon face had a bit of a red tint to it now because of the princess's words, and you didn't even have to look at Lucifer to be able to say that he looked the same. His daughter didn't even know how deep the history went between you both; she didn't even know you two knew one another prior to this. Nor did she really need to know. It could be you and Lucifers little secret. Something just for the two of you.
You snorted at her words, managing to screw your face into an extremely unamused expression quick enough to hide the blush, making sure to keep flapping your wings so you wouldn't falter in your hovering.
"Dear, you may just find yourself jealous because I have a dragon and you lack one! You see this beauty? Extraordinary! Such a great species too, infact-"
You managed to look even more annoyed than you felt, as Lucifer continued to take it upon himself to deliver a little speech on your back whilst you were just hovering there, explaining his good fortune to have found a friend in you once again and now being able to get free rides. But, no one seemed to tell him that you were the one steering this ship.
In the span of a millisecond, you had tipped your body to the side, sending him sliding off your back and plummeting towards the ground, following with him yelping in both surprise and momentary fear. You snorted in amusement and instantly tucked your wings and went into a dive, following right after him.
The wind whistled past your sensitive ears as you were now falling right beside him. You looked at him with your wide, cat-like eyes, a curious coo escaping your throat as he just smirked at you, putting his hands behind his head as you both fell through the air, as if in some sort of movie. You then narrowed your sharp eyes and struck him playfully in the chest with a paw, sending him spinning off balance and crashing into some nearby bushes.
Quick to steady yourself, you quickly turned around midair and swooped just low enough to snag Charlie from off the ground, holding her in your arms, before letting her climb onto your back and sitting comfortably. Her smile was wide and cheerful, making you laugh as you shot back up into the air.
"Woo-hoo!" Charlie hollered, holding onto your neck by wrapping both her arms around its thick expanse as you warbled in response, showing off your toothy dragon grin as you flapped your wings vigorously, taking both you and the daughter of Hell off into the surrounding city.
Lucifer sat up in the mas of bushes, spitting out some leaves and rubbing the side of his head. He could've used his wings to slow his fall but he figured if it made you smile, he would get a little banged up. He still had that same grin plastered to his face.
He couldn't even be annoyed as he picked off thorns from his suit and top hat, watching with a soft sparkle in his eyes as his two favorite girls flew away together into the sunset.
Upon Charlie finding and helping you on extermination day, which had been only yesterday, you had now become an official resident of the Hotel. You kept telling yourself it was temporary until you were able to go back up to Heaven, but the more time you spent under the clouds and the feet of those still alive and walking, the more you came to realize that this place felt more like a home than the one you came from originally.
Lucifer had promised to wait for you in Hell after he fell, even for all eternity if that's how long it took for your pure soul to deserve damnation.
In return, you had promised never to truly leave him. To never abandon. To never relinquish your connection. And you would hold that promise, through and through.
It was your vow.
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