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#(because she only wanted to be good at being what she was told to be—being a girl included)
gurugirl · 1 day
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well��” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 3 days
Text
Having them as best friend's:
Multiple X Reader
Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino
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ALASTOR
You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!
He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.
Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.
You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.
The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.
You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.
Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.
He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.
If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.
He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!
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Angel Dust
Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.
But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.
Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.
Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!
Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.
The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.
When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.
But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.
Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.
Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."
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Husk
The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.
He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.
Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.
He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.
He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.
He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."
And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.
The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.
He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.
He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.
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Charlie
Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)
She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.
You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.
You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.
Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.
Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.
If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.
She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."
A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.
She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.
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Lucifer
Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.
When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.
On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"
He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.
He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.
The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.
Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.
No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.
Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.
So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!
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Vox
You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.
Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!
Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.
You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)
No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.
If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.
You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.
If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.
"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.
Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.
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Velvette
She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.
Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.
Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.
You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."
Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.
She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.
You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!
She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.
Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.
Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.
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Rosie
Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.
Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.
In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.
She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.
She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."
At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.
She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.
She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.
Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.
She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!
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Adam
He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.
There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.
Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.
He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.
The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.
You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.
He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.
The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.
There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.
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Lute
She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.
But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?
If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.
She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."
She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.
Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.
She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.
Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.
She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.
She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)
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Valentino
He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.
Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.
You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.
It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.
Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.
He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.
He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.
You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."
He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.
He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.
A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.
Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.
Part Two
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ysrjune · 2 days
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omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.
(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈
Into You ✦
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Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.
You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.
So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.
When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.
“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?
Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.
It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”
And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.
Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.
The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.
Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.
You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.
What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.
She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.
At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.
You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.
He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.
You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.
Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.
“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.
You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.
“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?
“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?
“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.
But you'll keep in touch.. right?
You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?
He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.
You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.
Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.
He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.
He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.
Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.
You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.
Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.
“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.
Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?
After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.
You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.
By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.
You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.
Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.
Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.
Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.
You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.
“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.
“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”
“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.
“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.
No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”
“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.
“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.
He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.
It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”
errrm part 2 when 🤔
tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀
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Wait for you Pt.2 | L.N.
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Lando Norris x reader
Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?
Warnings: angst, fluff:3
Word count: ~4.9K
A/N: Hello hello! I have finally got aroud to finishing this piece! Hope ya'll enjoy it <3
Lando could not concentrate, not for more than a sentence before his mind was once again playing you as his favourite movie.
Your smile, your eyes it all felt too good to be true and lord… the kiss. Lando had to physically restrain himself every time his mind went there. All he wanted was to run out of this room full of people talking about plans for the upcoming race and just run to you.
His skin was itchy and on fire from waiting for your touch. Now that you’ve given him a dose, given him hope, he was hooked with anticipation for more.
After the conference everyone dispersed into their own rooms except for Lando who followed Oscar to his driver’s room.
“Oscar you will not believe what happened!” Lando giggled as he closed the door.
Thus began the recollection of the touching moment on the roof top with you.
“- and then I asked her out and she said yes, and even gave me a kiss on my cheek before I entered the conference room! Can you imagine that Oscar?! She kissed me!” excitement was pooling around Lando’s lower lash line.
Oscar had forgotten what a truly happy Lando looked like and no matter how tired he was now, he did not want to be anywhere but right here on the uncomfortably tough sofa, listening to his friend talk about his love, especially because that love was you.
“Well that sounds like good news mate, where are you gonna take her by the way?” Oscar watched the life drain from Lando’s face as the excitement for the rendezvous converted to pure stress of the situation.
“Oh my God?! Where am I going to take her?!” Lando started pacing around the small room in circles making Oscar feel positively dizzy just from following Lando with his eyes.
“HELP ME OSCAR!” The older male pulled at his own hair out of sheer desperation for someone else’s input.
“Well just take her where you’ve taken her before, it’ll help her jog the memory,” Oscar answered calmly, rubbing his eyes. Lando’s pacing really did make him dizzy.
“Wait, that’s actually a really good idea. She loved our first date, she was never tired from talking about it,” Lando‘s eyes sparkled with the memory of your hands wrapping around his every time you told someone about your first date. Those were the moments when Lando understood just how deeply he felt for you and how you loved him just as much.
“Exactly. Everything is gonna work out, I can feel it,” Oscar laid an encouraging hand on his teammates shoulder. If reassurance was what Lando needed, Oscar will be there to provide.
The next few days at the paddock were filled with shy glances and giggles as the date spurred the two to secure their connection. Your laughter was never ending as so were Lando’s bright smiles. It seemed that every sentence Lando could think of sounded like the funniest joke to your ears.
While Oscar explained their upcoming race schedule to Lando, comically unbeknownst to him, Lando’s eyes were trained only on one person, as for all his attention too.
“What do you think about that Lando?” Oscar looked into the eyes of his friend only to find his point of attention trained behind himself rather than at him.
As he turned to find the culprit of Lando’s attention, he found no one else but you perched on a counter, lit up by the golden evening sun. Lando giggled as you waved at him and lifted his hand to wave back at you, both of your blushes ever-growing.
“Oh c’mon man, we’ve been through this!” Oscar’s eyes rolled back into his skull.
Damn these two love birds. As much as Oscar was thrilled for his friends once again being together the shy-giggly faze is just as annoying as it was a year ago.
You winked at Lando and he almost lost his stance.
“Really?” Oscar signs.
“She’s flirting with me!” Lando became defensive clutching his chest.
“Mate she’s literally your girlfriend…”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Lando’s smile never left his face as he watched your eyes focus back on the book that lay rested on your thighs.
In that moment something clicked for Lando. Life is truly as good as it can get. All uncertainty has been washed away by hope. It truly felt like you were healing him with every single glance. Perhaps it was just Lando’s imagination but whenever he met your eyes they were yours, he knew those eyes and for the first time in a long time Lando could let himself cry out of happiness when thinking of you. The clouds have dispersed, with each passing day you remembered more and said things that would make Lando stop in his tracks.
Lando no longer needed to look for you, because you were already there…
The over-packed luggage bag fell out of your hands at the sweet sight of a white fluffy bed. Lord knows you wasted no time jumping into the bed after kicking your shoes off at the door.
“Ughhh, this is heaven,” your voice was muffled by numerous pillows, but Lando still heard it clearly.
“I’m gonna set up my sim here, okay?” He asked, unsure if you wished for him to leave or stay. After all sleep was what you favoured over anything.
“Yeah it’s no problem, you know I don’t mind you being around,” you lifted your head slightly and shot him a smile.
“You’re the best!” Lando smiled in excitement and in a few minutes the desk area of the hotel bedroom became a sim racing corner.
“cute,” you admired the man only loud enough for yourself to hear.
It felt like only a couple seconds had passed before Lando was once again calling your name.
“Y/nnnn, are you sleeping?” His eyes met your half lidded ones. Gosh you looked cute, all sleepy… and so kissable.
“I am now,” you yawned the words out, eyes not yet fully open.
“Good, you better not be sleeping, I need you to see me win this,” his concentration in the game never faltered even with you on his mind.
“Don’t worry I’m awake,” you yawned once again making Lando chuckle. “You know, you could just wake me up when you finish and tell me the result?”
“Nooo,” he whined, “I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me?” He turned back for a second just to make sure you were behind him.
And you were. You were sitting there wrapped in a blanket, eyes big and oh so soft. You were there with him and that was all he ever needed.
You climbed out of the bed and stood behind him, hands in his hair and a kiss on his temple to which he let out a satisfactory sigh. ”You’re going to win Lan, I know you can.”
“I’ll only win if you’re by my side, love.” He crossed the finish line and turned around kissing you deeply before you could even congratulate him. His hands were quick to hook under your thighs, your warm skin tickling his fingers. He picked you up effortlessly, nestling the both of you into the bed that had already soaked up the scent of your floral perfume. It’s the same one he gifted you on your last birthday.
Your hands tangled around him, pulling him closer until you breathe the same air. His eyes were glossy, pupils dilated to a point where you could barely see the storm of green and blue. Your fingertips draged across his soft skin and to his silky curls. He was everywhere and you hoped it always stayed that way.
You’re still drunk on quality sleep when the morning light pulled you out of the peaceful slumber. Your hands instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed ghosting over the empty mattress, “Lan?”
A pout formed on your lips as you found the bed empty and void of any and all warmth.
Suddenly your eyes shot open but then again closed up, pain of the bright lighting residing in your retina.
You turned to your left side. Empty bedside. No Lando.
You felt yourself swimming in confusion. Your memories mixing with moments unseen before.
Was I dreaming? Dreaming of Lando in my bed? Quite puzzling indeed. 
But what puzzled you most was that you were in Spain, but Lando was not in your bed.
That revelation, for some unknown reason, did not sit well with you.
Overwhelmed you sat up on the bed, trying so hard to understand why for the love of god you were looking for Lando in your bed.
Why would Lando be here? Why was he in my dream? Was it really a dream?
You got off the bed and started looking for any clues that the dream was not actually a dream but reality.
Although the only thing you found is yourself feeling something for Lando Norris you had not felt before.
Dream or reality? This only served to confuse your heart further.
Your eyes caught the clock on the wall, a clear sign that you should hurry as the slender black arrow was about to meet the number seven.
Today was a free day for the grid. That meant that you were to meet Oscar and Lando in the hotel gym and later head for a complimentary breakfast with the two.
Hanging at the gym with them was not as fun as most imagine. Without their active energy being aimed at making jokes it was easy to get bored since you were not in a mood for a workout.
After walking around for a good five minutes you ran into Alonso.
Ever since you first came to formula 1 Fernando fit right into your life, kind of like a father figure at most times and sometimes as an older and much wiser friend.
For that very reason you were now sat at one of the many leather benches talking the older man’s ear off about everything that had been going left instead of turning out right.
“Every day whenever I’m left alone it just gets so annoying, like I truly have nothing to do, but I have nothing I want to do. Like I’m just trying to sit somewhere and relax but it somehow feels too bland,” a heavy sign exited your lungs making Fernando put down his weights and put all of his attention on you now.
“Take them,” he was clutching a plastic earphone box lightly in his left hand, extending it towards you.
“Don’t you need them?” you lifted your eyes out of curiosity but did not dare take them just yet.
Fernando was quick to brush your question off, “Ech, I don’t like these wireless things, I always loose them.”
Your eyes locked on the case. Do I even like listening to music?
“Don’t worry these are unused, I got them from PR this morning,” he let out a chuckle, unnerved by your silence after being surrounded by your voice for so long.
“Are you sure?” you were uncertain but Fernando thrust the case into your hands and ruffled your hair as you smiled up at the man. “Thank you Fernando.”
“It’s all my pleasure sweetheart, it’s about time you started listening to your music again.”
Fernando walked away before you could inquire him about your taste of music, and how he knew so much about it.
There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling. You felt as if you were behind in class, like everyone knew what was going on and which formula to use for a certain problem, but you did not.
Everyone around you seemed to know things about you before you got to discover them yourself and that did nothing but make you uncomfortable in your own skin.
That is where the spiralling set in.
All of a sudden the world shifted off its natural axes and you were no longer there. Your words seemed to get stuck in your head, your movements too slow and every time you tried to pay attention your mind was engulfed in a thick cloud.
It was all messing you up to further close in on yourself.
Lando noticed. Of course Lando noticed. Even if it was only a week, Lando noticed…
There was one thing Lando actually paid attention to and it was you. But once again his great attraction to you was beginning to pain him, little by little scratching at his heart. With each cold shoulder and weak smile he could feel it, he could feel you moving further from him while he was stationary, just a few steps behind you, nonetheless too far than he’d like to be.
Lando’s eyes drifted around the white ceiling of his driver’s room as he tried to trace his steps back and see what might have caused you to stray from him. Was it something he did? If it was he’d better fix it before it became too late. But what could he have done?
You had the date about three weeks ago, that was fine, great even, and he hadn’t had you so happy and respondent in months. Then there was the free week before Spain which he spent with his family while you went to Australia with Oscar, but you texted and called every single day, most days it was you who initiated the calls and reassured him that he was not keeping you from sleep as the two of you were separated by many, many hours.
Then there was the night you landed in Spain. Lando had waited in the airport for hours, wishing he was the one to take you to the hotel and surprise you with your favourite flowers.
He remembered Spain last year. He could never forget, it was your first time at a race as a couple, the relationship still fresh as a wildflower. Lando was hoping for a win, and he felt he could win with you by his side, like he did the night before on the sim, only because you were there watching him with your soft loving and undeniably sleepy eyes…
He expected to jog your memory with the help of the familiar Spanish scenery however it appeared to blow up right in his face the next day.
He picked you up at the airport and you were happy. Right? Yes. You jumped into his arms, you held his hand and even let a tear escape your eye as you held the flowers close to your chest. On the ride to the hotel you talked so much, excitedly telling him about all kinds of aussie adventures you, Oscar and his girlfriend Lilly got up to. He listened all through them with a pearly smile, even if he had heard the stories before from Oscar, asking you questions while knowing the answers to them only because he knew you’d feel cared for and appreciated if he asked. And to end the short but splendid night you kissed goodnight after he walked you to your room. It was meant to be a thank you for his kindness but the real thank you for him where your eyes.
Your eyes were his weakness since day one.
But the next day your eyes were not your eyes anymore… They were not yours ever since.
Was this it? Is this how life is going to be now? He will work and work to get just a bit of you for you to forget it all the next day.
He had heard about such a thing from doctors how some amnesia patients have clear sky days when they become who they were before but even a slight factor can alter that and not an hour later they can forget all that happened before.
Does this mean you will never remember him?
What if you never love him again…
“Lan get up you muppet we have a race starting in 20,” Oscar yanked the older boy awake from his daydream and watched him return to reality. “Everything okay mate?” he observed the tired eyes of his friend.
“Yeah… let’s go.” Lando trained his gaze away from Oscar and left the room first. As much as he needed to talk about you now, he just couldn’t do it, not to Oscar, not again…
Your fingers mindlessly wrapped around your ring pulling it on and off constantly before your skin started burning, but that didn’t stop your behaviour.
Thanks to your mind running faster than an F1 car you’ve figured out a few things this week.
First. You liked Lando Norris. And that’s great.
But dreaming about him being your boyfriend? Now that’s a bit too much.
Second. You liked music. More than you initially thought you did.
Third. You liked cornflowers. The blue ones.
You didn’t know that before. You couldn’t really think of a flower you liked before…
Fourth. You had no idea who you were.
There it was again, that unshakable feeling out of alignment. Like the whole world had tilted and you were no longer on the same axis as before. Was it only a few degrees off but you felt worlds apart from the days before.
Your heart was racing again, lungs refusing to take in the oxygen, though it was all around. It was easy and natural to breathe, something no one needed to think about to control, it just happened and for some reason you were once again stuck unable to control your own self, just as you were unable to calm your pounding head.
You entered the garage where Oscar and Lando stood listening to one of their engineers explaining something to them animatedly. The earbuds in your ears were almost unnoticeable, even with the melodic tune, until you made eye contact with Lando’s clear blues did the familiar tune follow.
But I knew you,
Dancin' in your Levi's,
Drunk under a streetlight,
I knew you.
All of a sudden it hit you quite literally like a truck full of bricks. And the world completely swung off its axis.
The memories spun as a wind whirl in front of your eyes.
It played like a movie.
Your eyes filled with tears before you could turn away and leave the crowded space. Too confused and much too overwhelmed with what you’ve just remembered.
There was Lando, and he was everywhere. He was holding your hands and he was kissing you and he was sleeping in your bed. But you didn’t understand where all of this came from, when just moments ago you were trying to figure out if you even like the man, now you felt such a tremendous pull towards him, it scared you.
Lando had watched your small smile fade into a look of confusion and your eyes filled with tears. Your last look was it. Eyebrows pulled together, eyes glossy. Something he had not seen in months now. Your whole face was contoured with memories of you two together. And he could see that, he could see it from your eyes, the eyes that recognised him once more, only they were not glistening with love but with salty tears.
She remembered me. She is crying.
Panic ran Lando’s blood cold. He wanted to chase after you but before he could take one step in your direction a firm hand on his shoulder held him back.
Lando looked at the hand before lifting his eyes to meet the concerned eyes of his teammate, “Lando I know what she means to you, but you have a race starting in 5 minutes. We need to get in those cars.”
“But she’s crying Oscar, something is wrong.” Lando’s voice was demanding and rough, if he needed to push Oscar down to get to you he’d do it, no matter how much the thought of hurting his friend displeased him.
Oscar registered the fiery gaze that made home in Lando’s eyes and he did not want to see what followed but he had no thought of letting him go.
“You have to make a choice Lando. It was never going to be easy.”
As much as it hurt Oscar to say those words to his friend, all he wanted was for you and Lando to be together again.
But Oscar saw you this week. And he saw Lando this week. And neither were sights to marvel at.
You were always an extension of Lando and he poured all he had into the girl he loved. But you were different now, and that was changing Lando, although not always in a right way.
By the end of the day if you did not remember loving him and if their labour proved fruitless Lando would have nothing left. No you, no him. For now Lando at least had F1 and Oscar knew that the only thing he could do is help his friend protect his precious job because he had no call in your mind or feelings.
Only a month ago Oscar felt how everything would work out, but maybe working out meant you two finding your happiness apart and not together. Healing separately and moving on from what had passed. As disturbing as that sounded, it looked like the only solution for both of your wellness.
“Boys, cars, now!” a voice boomed, directing them to take their positions.
Oscar and Lando shared one last glance before Lando pulled his helmet back on and settled into his seat.
It’s gonna be a tough race. Oscar thought.
As expected the race was unlike no other this year, 3 crashes, 5 DNF’s all while Lando drove with the concentration of an eagle, his eyes on the road, but your eyes in his mind.
Lando was rethinking everything, he quite literally had the time, almost two hours before he’s allowed out of this car and can finally see you, he needed to be ready for what was to come in the future… or if there was any future for the two of you left.
What if it is the end?
What if you don’t want him anymore?
A couple of tears travelled down his hot cheek and mixed with his sweat. His eyes were burning, his chest was burning but he pushed and pushed himself unafraid to perform a dangerous over-take with the car in front of him. Mere seconds later a loud cheer echoed through his ear.
“P1 LANDO! YOU ARE THE WINNER LANDO!”
“I won?” He repeated while finishing the cool-down lap, complete disbelief soaking his words.
As soon as he stepped out of the car it was all cheering and flashing lights.
I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me? His own voice resonated through his ears, the memory of your eyes before him.
That was the last thread before he broke down crying next to his car.
Everyone cheered even louder. They thought he was facing the high of his life while he felt like rotting in hell.
He needed you to see him when he won. Now he did win, but you were not watching…
He knew you. He knew you so well. When you told him you’d be there, when you kissed his cheek, when you watched the night sky with him, when you held his hand. He knew you’d come back to him. He knew he’d get to hold your hand again and watch you smile all thanks to his wit.
Only he did not know it would be temporary…
Air got caught in Lando’s throat, it was suffocating being encaged within the helmet.
While Lando stood on the podium accepting his award not once did he look down at the crowd before him. Keeping his eyes on the trophy or the other men sharing the podium with him.
But never down, never to the left corner where from the side of his eye he could see that cluster of bright papaya, never to the very front of that gate, never to where you were supposed to be standing.
Because inside he knew that you were not there, but if he never looked back there then there will be no confirmation, so the theoretical possibility that you might just be there was all he could get and he would hold on to it for dear life.
If he never looked down, he could just let himself imagine that you were there, watching him win…
“See boy, you can’t win everything, but when your time comes, you get all that you want. And Lando, you very well deserve this,” it was Fernando tapping the younger boy on the shoulder, expressing his congratulations.
yeah… I won a race but I lost my love.
Sadness encapsulated his heart and the last thing he wanted now was to pretend to celebrate a long awaited win. Before anyone could get their hands on him he disappeared to his driver’s room.
He opened the door and locked it behind himself. He needed to be alone now.
“Lando,” your soft voice greeted him.
“I knew you,” your eyes were ablaze, “I don’t know how or where it came from, but I knew you and I loved you.” You tried your best to calmly express all feelings that came crashing down on you mere hours ago.
“Loved?” Lando breathed under his nose, he was shattered beyond repair as your declaration made him take in a large gulp of air. Lando could feel himself getting mad. This is so fucking unfair.
“You’re so mean.” He slumped down on the couch, his eyes directed away from you.
“What? Lando I’m trying to-“, you stepped closer to him, instantly regretting that decision.
“AND YOU DON‘T THINK I AM?! I’ve been trying for months now, all alone, while you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even know me, while I had to live around you, still in love with you. It’s so unfair, SO FUCKING UNFAIR ALL OF THIS!”, his hands waved with inner rage. He knew he wasn’t mad at you, it was not your fault, but he was mad at something and he needed to let that out. He needed you to finally know how he felt.
“Lando I am sorry, I-“, you tried to interrupt before Lando completely broke.
“IT’S SO UNFAIR THAT YOU WEREN’T THERE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ME. SURE YOU DON’T REMEMBER, BUT I DO, I REMEMBER, YOU PROMISED ME YOU’D WATCH ME WIN! AND YOU DIDN’T! YOU LIED!” With each word his voice became louder and louder, he was letting his emotions out for once, tired of holding them in for the sake of everyone else but himself.
“I know Lando! And I did watch you,” you tried to keep your mind levelled and let him let his frustrations out.
“NO, NO YOU DIDN’T, YOU RAN OUT BEFORE THE RACE COULD EVEN START, Y/N I SAW YOU!”
“I. WATCHED. YOU.” You’re the one to raise your voice now, getting close to his face. You needed to show him that you could hear him.
“We were here in Spain a year ago and you were sim racing before the race, you told me to watch you race, because you wanted me to see you win and you did win. But when we woke up the next day I had caught a cold and could not watch you race out on the circuit. You lost and you were crushed. I know Lando. I was there. And I am here now, only this time I was here too, I watched you race and I watched you win.” Your own voice glazed in assertiveness just to make him listen.
Lando’s eyes were in tears, his hands in tight fists unable to understand how something like this could have happened. All of these emotions crashing down on him, he didn’t know what to do, he did not know how to react, he was lost.
Your gentle touch worked to unwrap his tight grip and relax him before placing his palms on your tear stained cheeks.
You’d show him a way, the way you always had.
“I remember Lando. I remember everything. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you. But we can fix this we can work on this together right?” you pleaded with your eyes, attentively searching his own for an answer.
Lando’s first instinct was to pull you into a crushing hug, breathing you in like you were his oxygen.
Lando finally felt at home. It was and always would be your touch, your presence that could ground him.
“You came back to me. I will do everything to keep you close, Y/n,” He whispered into your neck, the hot air tickling your skin making you giggle.
“You came back,” he held you even tighter and your hands were just as firm grasping him.
“I‘ll never leave you again,” you ran your hands through his soaked curls, letting the memories of your life before take over each one of your cells and fill you, “I’m sorry for taking so long my love,”
“Don’t be.” Lando broke the hug so he could look into your eyes again.
Now he saw his true prize. It was your eyes, your rosy cheeks, your glistening lips. You were back and you still loved him,“ I’d always wait for you.”
^^
Tags: @goldsbitch @cmleitora @mickslover @darleneslane @queenofmanydreams @ujws5
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dinogoofymutated · 3 days
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Uhhh, so can I request something about Wolverine where both he and reader have a crush on each other but he won't show it and she is too afraid of rejection to confess, however, when Xavier sends reader to talk to Wolverine about their mission, she walks into his room and finds him top topless which only frustrates her more and leads to Logan noticing that and taking his chances to check her feelings 😓 Ahem you can make it NSFW according to the last thing I implied to 👀 hopefully this is not too out of character but I really crave any content about this man 😓😓😓
Also excuse my language if there are any mistakes, English us not my first language 🫡
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SFW! Wolverine/GN!Reader
This is such a good prompt!! I hope this does justice for your vision!! Also- don't worry, your English is very good!! Hope it's okay that I implied NSFW instead of wrote it out explicitly. I didn't quite have the energy to get that far 😭
TWs: not many. Miscommunication. Reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned.
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Anyone around the mansion could tell that something weird was going on between you and Logan.
You were always really jumpy and nervous around him. You'd squirm and fiddle with your hands when sat next to him, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else. You could be quick to lose your temper at him sometimes and you clearly dreaded training sessions with him. Most people just thought you hated the man, but the one time Jean had seen a peak into your mind she certainly knew the truth. The professor probably knew too, to be honest.
You were hopelessly pining for the man- But you'd never, ever confess to him. He was in love with Jean. He had been in love with Jean for years. There was no chance he ever had feelings for you. So- instead of facing these feelings, you had a bad tendency to run from them. Being around him made you jittery and nervous, sitting next to him made your heart beat crazily and you had a short temper with him because he was always running headfirst into danger. It didn't matter that he had a healing factor, you didn't like that he was endangering himself like that.
Logan, on the other hand, was always stoic. He treated you like any other X-man or friend. It didn't matter how his heart fluttered around you or the heat that rose to his cheeks every time you did something particularly attractive, he wasn't exactly an expert in love. He certainly had a hard time showing it. What he did notice though, was the change in your demeanor lately. You had been acting so strange, and it's gotten to the point where you'd straight up leave the room when he would enter, and he was frustrated. Logan was starting to get fed up with your newfound attitude, and despite Jean's gentle nudging, he certainly wasn't going to tell you what he felt for you. What he thought about you. If anything, It would give you more of a reason to hate him.
You had been successfully avoiding Logan for a while, having been in a particularly good mood today. That was until the professor pulled you aside and asked- well, told you to brief Logan about the upcoming mission. Your heart immediately dropped into your stomach. You, alone with him? In the same room? The professor was tasking you to dive into your own personal hell- and there was no way he didn't know that! All he did when you began to complain and make excuses was smile knowingly at you.
You swore that you had dissociated the entire time you had been walking to his room. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to be here, you didn't want to talk to him. Nope! You were absolutely dreading it.
You Knock three times. After a second of silence, you already find yourself overthinking your knock. Was it too loud? Too quiet? Maybe he could already smell it was you, and is just ignoring the knock so he doesn't have to look at your stupid flushed face-
"Come in." Okay, So, not that. You open his door slowly, not wanting to seem too eager to enter. You're looking down at the paperwork the entire time, mouth already running with the time of day everyone would be leaving, Which suits to wear, where you were going. You don't even look up until after the door has already been shut.
"There's a few more factors that need to be taken account of when we manage to get a better survey of the location but-" You yelp when you look up, greeted by a shirtless Logan, clothed only by a low-hanging pair of gray sweatpants. You're quick to cover your eyes, face burning from a mixture of embarrassment and... well, something else.
"For the love of god, Logan!" You gasp. You can hear Logan chuckle at your reaction, and the action lights a spark of anger inside of you.
"The least you can do is be decent when you invite me in!" You snap at him. He huffs a little at the change of tone, meanwhile you're trying your absolute best to forget how you practically saw everything in those sweatpants. You hear him take a few steps forwards until he's standing so close you can feel the heat from his body.
"So what? You've patched me up before. It's not like you've never seen me naked." Logan sounds annoyed, and you feel guilty for your reaction for a moment. You sigh, shaking your head.
"That's different." You say. Logan hums.
"Is it really?" His tone is teasing, and you almost feel humiliated. He's making fun of you. Of course he was. You were absolutely hopeless.
"Look, Just forget it. Take the damn papers and read the brief yourself." Your eyes are still closed as you slam the papers into what you think is his chest and try to turn to leave, but Logan grabs your arm. He doesn't even try to pick them up as he grabs the top of your arms, keeping you from running away as he walks you backwards.
"Look, I get that I'm not the easiest guy to get along with, but ya' never had a problem with me before. What's happened?" Logan's words start out rough, but if you didn't know any better you'd think that there was a little vulnerability leaking into his tone. You gasp as the surface of the cold door hits your back. You keep your eyes firmly shut, still not willing to open them and look at him. You didn't want to see his face, worried that you'd blush even more or he'd manage to figure it out- if he hadn't already. He'd just make fun of you. He wouldn't take you seriously. Would he?
"Nothing. Nothing has happened, happy?" You say, nerves creeping into your unsteady voice. It's hardly a lie, nothing really happened, but Logan had a habit of stiffing out dishonesty. He growls, and the sound makes your skin prickle.
"Don't lie to me. You can hardly look me in the eye." Logan growls. You scoff at him.
"That's not true!" A blatant lie, and you were sure it was obvious. Still, part of you was hoping he'd simply let it go. You should have known better, because everyone under the sun knew that Logan was one of the most stubborn men on the planet
"Prove it. Look at me." His words make you hesitate. You frown, not wanting to give in. Unstoppable force meets unmovable object- but with every push you feel your nerves start to go shot. You were anxious, flustered, worried- you just wanted it to all be over. If you just opened your eyes, it would all be over.
"Open your eyes, doll." You can feel Logan's breath fan across your face, and in the mix of shock, you finally open your eyes. Logan is so close to your face you can feel his breathing. You hardly know where to look, face flushing red as you blush as the close-contact. You get nervous when you make eye contact, gaze flittering about from his nose, to his ears, his sideburns, and to his lips. You must have let your eyes linger there for a little too long, because Logan starts to chuckle at you. You feel the sting of embarrassment. Logan sees something in your face shift, and knowing you'd just pull away again, he takes a shot in the dark.
Logan kisses you, and you have no clue how to respond to that at first. You go wide-eyed for a moment, but his hands let go of your arms and wrap around you and you cant help but melt into the kiss. He's a good kisser. I mean, with years of experience, you knew he would be. But getting to experience that yourself gave you a whole new perspective to it. He cups the back of your neck as he draws you in for another kiss, again and again. You're breathing hard when the two of you finally separate, Logan being mostly unbothered besides a small smile and a red tint to his cheeks.
"All that drama, and it's because you had feelings f'me. Heh." -is the first thing he says. You gasp, offended.
"Oh-shut up. S'not like you're any better than I am." You frown, sliding a hand around the back of his neck to yank him closer. "Seriously, you weren't exactly dropping hints." Logan chuckles again, Before hooking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up and against him. You yelp as he does so, getting flustered when you realize that you could now feel everything that you had been trying to forget seeing earlier.
"I'm kissing you now, aren't I?"
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megu-meow · 3 days
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family ties - gojo satoru
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gojo x fem. reader
Summary: Satoru takes you to meet the in-laws.
The Gojo family members mentioned are named after the Zoldyk family, cuz Satoru is the grown-up version Killua. Argue with a wall on that one. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one!
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"Please, sweetheart! I've been begging you for four years, it's time..." Gojo implores, running after you in the hallways of Jujutsu Tech like a lost puppy.
"I told you already, Satoru, I don't want to do it. You said it was ok if I didn't because you don't care what they think anyway."
"I know, but now that I proposed to you, my family wants to see you. Especially Ojiisan, he wants to meet the woman who charmed his favorite grandson." he whines as the two of you stop in front of your classroom.
"Toru, you said it yourself, all of your clan members are obsessed with you marrying someone from the big clans. We both know they will not accept a nobody like me." you explain as you rub your forehead. It wasn't that you didn't want to meet Satoru's family, but he was the one to refuse to introduce you to them in the first place. He didn't like the way they treated outsiders and he didn't want you to experience how old-fashioned and downright disgusting their beliefs and traditions were. You were better off without ever crossing paths with them, you were sure of that. However, as soon as he proposed to you, his clan members started pushing the matter, because being Satoru's wife would mean that you would get your own responsibilities in the clan, like attending meetings representing Satoru, when he was away, you would get your own vote in different matters, and lastly, the one you refused to take into consideration, you would become clan head if Satoru would ever be unable to fulfill his duties as such. It was normal for them to wish to meet you, but that didn't make it any easier.
"You will only have to meet my mom, my dad, and my grandparents. They don't care about how you are or what powers you hold as long as you love me. They will not make you feel miserable, I promise." he looks at you with those cerulean orbs that shine like rhinestones, ones you cannot say no to.
"You pinky-promise?"
"Of course, sweetheart." he says and he shows you his pinky, waiting for you to link it with yours. And you do.
The day finally arrives, a sunny Friday in April, as the Sakura blossoms. Ijichi picked up the two of you from your shared apartment early in the morning to begin your hour-long drive to the Gojo estate in suburban Tokyo.
"So your father's name is Silva?" you ask your fiance as you observe the landscape around you.
"Yes. He's kinda scary at first glance, but he would do anything to make me happy."
"Your mom's name is Kykio, right?"
"Yes, good job sweetheart! She's a kind-hearted woman, she's gonna love you for sure."
"Okay, I think I know enough about your family tree." you sigh, you really want these people to like you. You don't exactly know why, Satoru said he doesn't care what they say, he's gonna marry you anyway, but you know he loves his parents and his grandparents. Contrary to popular belief, he grew up in a loving family, he was spoiled rotten by everyone, hence his insufferable personality. However, despite how Satoru claims his family not liking you wouldn't affect him, you know it would. These people are important to him, whether he admits it or not. So you're not going to screw this up by not knowing their given names. Or by anything else.
You get dropped off in front of a massive gate that Satoru opens with ease and you're met with a pebbled road lined with Sakura trees. They are in perfect blossom, there is a sea of pink in front of you. Satoru grabs your hand in his and starts walking down the road, leading you toward where you assume the Minka is.
"Three, two, ..." you hear Satoru count back under his nose and you look at him with confusion, but as you look back to the road ahead of you a person appears, bowing in front of your fiance.
"Gojo-san, welcome back!"
"Amane, long time no see! How are you holding up?" he asks joyfully and you remember him mentioning his name before. Amane was Satoru's best friend at the estate, his cousin on his mother's side of the family.
"I'm doing good. You didn't announce your arrival, the clan is in a meeting right now."
"I know." he smirks. He timed this perfectly and you take a note to yourself to scold him for slacking off. "By the way, this is my fiance, y/n."
"Hajimemashite, y/n-san! Welcome to the Gojo Estate."
"Nice to meet you too, Amane. Please leave the honorifics, makes me feel old."
"As you wish. Please do not hesitate to call for me if you need anything. I will make sure to prepare Gojo-san's bedroom for the two of you." Amane disappears right after finishing his sentence, you couldn't even thank him for his help.
"GOJO SATORU!" you hear a deep voice shouting from afar and you feel goosebumps covering your entire body. Whoever that voice belongs to is frightening as hell. "Not only do you not show your face to a clan meeting, but you have the audacity to not announce me about my daughter-in-law coming to meet me?" you observe the tall, muscular man in front of you as he approaches with inhumane speed. He has long, wavy hair with bangs, the color identical to Satoru's, and icy blue eyes. It is Gojo Silva, Satoru's father. The cursed energy around him has a crazy strong presence, similar to Satoru's when he lets his unleash, but this one feels rougher, slightly colder.
First, he steps to his son, yanking his left ear, which results in Satoru whining like a little kid. The whole ordeal is comical, you know that his father is just messing around. After that, he looks at his son with disapproving eyes, calls him a menace and turns towards you.
"Y/n, yoroshiku! I am Gojo Silva, Satoru's father. You can call me otousan." he bows and you return the gesture with a blush on your cheeks. Satoru giggles, enjoying his father's antics. Despite being a seemingly intimidating person, Silva seems to be just as much of a goofball as Satoru. He asks you silly questions like what is your favorite dessert, how much you can eat and whether you discipline his son when he acts like an idiot. The last one causes Satoru to chirp back at his father, claiming that he called him the other night to 'change the Google logo back to the original'. As you observe the dynamic between the two you have to remind yourself that you're in the presence of the heads of the Strongest Clan in Jujutsu history.
You finally arrive in front of the house and you are greeted by a beautiful woman with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She looks welcoming in her flowery dress and with her wide smile. Her smile resembles Satoru's, it reaches her ears and it's vibrant, like there is nothing wrong in this world. Her cursed energy is low, even lower than yours, and you're not sure if it's because she is limiting it or if she simply doesn't have much to begin with. Her aura is stronger, it is familiar and welcoming.
"Kaachan!" Satoru exclaims as he walks up to her, embracing the petite woman in a warm hug. She pats her son on the back, her eyes sparkling with the motherly love she reserves for him.
"I'm glad you're finally home, sunshine! Please don't give your father any more headaches while you're here."
"I will not, mother!" he says curtly and he suddenly snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you close to his side "By the way, this is my fiance, y/n!" he introduces you and you bow in front of his mother politely.
"I am glad to finally meet you, Kykio-san!"
"Oh, please, sweetheart, leave the honorifics. You are family, you can call me Okaasan or whatever you prefer." she says with her warm smile.
They all walk you to the family dining room, claiming that you arrived in time for supper. You're being presented with a variety of traditional Japanese dishes and you're more than excited to try everything that you like. Satoru's parents are extremely nice and calm. They ask you questions about your family, your upbringing, about Jujutsu and your time in high school. They claim they already know about every single detail of your relationship with Satoru, apparently, you're one of his favorite topics to mention when he is back home. They tell you stories about their son, how he was while growing up, what he liked and disliked, and how much of a troublemaker he was. You listen carefully to these stories, you want to remember them, to cherish them for a long time. After you finish the dishes, they are serving desserts, a whole lot of them in different assortments.
"Satoru has got a sweet tooth his whole life. His grandmother likes to prepare all kinds of deserts, even western ones so he grew up eating a copious amount of sugar." Kykio explains.
"Y/n bakes too! She makes cookies for me all the time!"
"That's not true, Toru! I've been trying to reduce his sugar intake, so now I only bake once a week." you explain and his parents look at each other knowingly, as they start laughing. You look at Satoru in confusion, but he just shakes his head, signaling that he doesn't get it either.
"Sweetheart, Satoru has been teleporting back home every week to eat desserts from his Sobo." his mother explains and you look at your fiance in disbelief. He acts like he's innocent, smiling at you widely, mouthing 'i love you'. You roll your eyes, but mouth the words back, because otherwise he would throw a fit in front of everyone.
"Where is that grandson on mine? Always causing trouble." you hear a male voice from the hallway and a pair of footsteps. The cursed energy coming from their direction is unpaired, it exceeds Silva's, maybe not Satoru's, but it still makes you uncomfortable.
"Have some decorum, Zeno. That boy has done nothing wrong in his life." a woman's voice is heard and the male grunts in disbelief.
"Typical Sobo Gojo, she always thinks Satoru is perfect." Silva explains and he lets out an obnoxious laugh, very similar to Satoru's. Now you understand where he got it from.
The doors open and you observe the cute elderly woman and the man with hair pointing toward the ceiling on her side. What is it with Gojo men and their gravity-resistant hair?!
"Satoru, do you have any idea how long it took me to convince the clan geezers to let your lady off the hook this time?" Zeno questions and looks at his grandson with an authoritative gaze.
"I'm sorry you had to do that, Ojiisan. I promise that next time, y/n will meet them as well."
"Good! Now come here, my child. I wanna see if my grandson was telling the truth about you being the most gorgeous woman to walk on this earth." he says as he gestures for you to walk up to him. You oblige as he takes your hands into his, analyzing them carefully. "Huh, truly beautiful. Your cursed energy flows nicely and you have a lot of it. You are strong, I like that." he says, drops your hands, and walks towards the table. After that, you are greeted by his grandmother, who scolds you for trying to limit her beloved grandson's insane sugar intake. However, she compliments you on your looks and politeness.
You sit back down at the table afterward, enjoying the moment of being surrounded by the Gojo family. Despite their reputation, they are all nice people. The three generations of men keep teasing each other, grandpa Zeno is a savage, making fun of both his son and grandson, he has absolutely no mercy. They keep telling you stories about Satoru like the time his grandfather shot him in the eye with a Nerf gun despite aiming at his butt. Or the time he was playing hockey inside while his parents were out and he broke the glass on his mother's favorite painting. Luckily for him, Sobo was home and she had the glass fixed before his parents even got home.
You tell them about the time he encountered a cleaning curse and how he smelled like detergent for two weeks. Or the time he wanted to pick you flowers from the forest near Jujutsu Tech, but fell into poison ivy.
The night goes by like that, filled with laughter and family stories. Despite having your doubts about meeting Satoru's family, he observes how you fit right in. How everyone loves you and they accept you for who you are because the love you have for him is evident. As it should be. And he swears that his love for you skyrockets even more that night, despite him knowing that it's nearly impossible.
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annabelle--cane · 2 days
Text
placing my hands out placatingly, asking everyone to please be cool and not reignite og!elias burnt out gifted kid discourse. okay? okay. I think this is setting up some more sam and gwen parallels. from mag 193, we know that elias bouchard (original flavor) was told from a young age that he was smart but lazy, he was squandering his advantages, and he was wrong to envy other children because they were meaningless and he was better. he seemed to internalize this to some extent, because by the time he was in his early twenties he had no friends and no family and no real life, just the certainty that he was destined to deserve better.
I think it is reasonable to assume that gwen received similar messaging during her childhood, as she seems to be treating the OIAR the same way elias treated artefact storage (as a stepping stone job to a bigger career waiting for her up the ladder), and she takes a lot of offence when she feels disrespected. from magp 03, we know she's reticent to tell her friends that she's still working this same job, especially because the friend's party she was going to was to celebrate making partner at a law firm.
from this episode, we know that sam was declared "gifted" as a child and his parents rigorously enrolled him in every program they could find, and it started going down hill when the magnus institute rejected him (did they reject him outright or was he there for a bit and then kicked out? what he said to celia doesn't quite fit his earlier statements, but moving on). he has a lot of pent up and fixated feelings about not being chosen by them, he didn't get into oxford, he just missed the highest grades, and he's reticent to tell his parents that he's working this job, especially because he used to be at a law firm.
we know the bouchards are a wealthy and influential family, and as sam speaks with a south asian accent I think it's safe to assume that his family immigrated. of course, there's a massive amount of variation in the socioeconomic statuses of south asian immigrant families in the UK, and I don't know enough about how british gifted kids programs work to know if sam having been in a bunch of them would imply anything about his parents' disposable income, but nonetheless I still think their different backgrounds potentially say a lot about how they handle these feelings of not meeting the high standards that were expected of / promised to them. gwen is fighting to be on the same level of social status and power as her peers, and sam probably felt like he was he had opportunities for upward mobility in this brand new place but kept failing them. it's causing both of them to be very active characters, they are the two people pushing the story forward the most by far, but the ways in which they are active diverge greatly.
gwen, until recently, had felt like she was unfairly stagnating, like she was "not most people" and was cut out for better, and being constantly barred from climbing the ladder made her both resentful of lena and extremely paranoid / insecure about her own worth. now that she's starting to crack it into the "real work," it's obviously taking a great toll on her, but she doesn't want to back out, she wants to prove herself and take what's rightfully hers and not show herself to be unfit for real power. her actions appear to be guided by an ethos that her life hasn't been wasted yet, she still has time to make good, she just needs to ignore that weakness masquerading as a conscience, please god don't let her fail.
sam feels like he's made mistake after mistake after mistake and led himself to his own desperate state where he only just managed to avoid destitution because his ex was kind enough to hook him up with an emergency job that is actively destroying his physical and emotional health, and he has pinned all this frustration on trying to figure out what the magnus institute was all about and why it didn't choose him. like gwen, great things were expected of him, but unlike her he doesn't seem to still be striving for them, that dried up when he had a breakdown at his last job. now he just wants to figure it out and make sense of it, as if solving the mystery will let him fix it and undo all that time and un-waste his promised potential. his actions seem to be guided by an ethos that, even though he's already screwed everything right up, solving the ghosts that haunt his life will some how lessen their burden and maybe, just maybe, give him closure on the Flaw That Doomed Him and allow him to move past it without dragging it still forward.
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aleenuhs · 3 days
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Helping Arthur release some tension after his right arm got injured in a gunfight. He’s been grumpy and stuck at camp; he could use a helping hand. 🤭
ᯓ★ A Helping Hand
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I love this little idea, thanks anon!
warnings & tags: smut (p in v), fluff, nudity, afab!reader/fem!reader, Arthur is a lil angry, mentions of injury, established relationship, pet names, gendered language (she/her, reference to reader)
word count: 1,157
Arthur was starting to get hysterical due to his current situation. He got injured on his right arm, which he used in everyday life, especially when it came to using his guns and crafting.
The more hours he stayed in camp, he wished to be out and doing what he does best. Not that he avoided camp, or maybe he did, but he was there because that's where you were.
"I said I'm fine," he demanded, looking up at you from where he lay on the cot, your eyes wandered to the wrap on his arm, just staring.
"Let me at least get you some coffee, please?" You spoke, and Arthur didn't protest, so you assumed that it was what he wanted. "Good." You grabbed the little mug from his side table. Soon you came back with the mug and some coffee in it. Arthur sat up and took the small mug from you.
"Thank you," he said in almost a murmur. "I ain't want ta ask you for much, sweetie. I know you have stuff that you have to do 'round here."
You frowned a bit, "I finished all my chores, and Ms. Grimshaw said it was fine, don't act like it's a burden, Arthur, when it's not. I love you okay?" You smiled again, sitting beside him, resting your head on his left shoulder, he used his injured arm to swipe a few hairs away from your face.
"A'right then, I love you too," He said to you.
"How does your arm feel?"
"Fine, I want to get back out there." He said with slight desperation in his voice, his eyes bored to the house's walls. You grin.
"Arthur, you need rest." You say placing a kiss on his cheek.
"Remember how I said I was fine? Yea' I meant it." He said, with a little sass in his tone, making you giggle.
"Go tell mister Dutch that," You replied in a murmur but an even sassier tone than his one previously.
"What'd you say?" He said, not catching whatever you just said.
"Nothing." His eyes snap to your expression, and the shrug that crept onto your shoulders. He placed the mug down on the side table.
"Don't do that now..." He looked at you, "what did you say?" You can only giggle at how he yearns to know what you said, suddenly you're right under him, he manhandled you under him and you're still laughing at him. "Guess I'm gonna have to get it outta you one way or the other." He began to tickle you, knowing exactly where to get you, your tummy.
"Hey!" You said suddenly, "No not this right now!"
"Tell me!" He persisted in tickling you, and you were trying to fight back without hurting his arm even more, but you weren't going to win this at all so you sighed heavily.
"I told you to go tell Mister Dutch what you'd said!" You uttered fast and Arthur let go of you, both of you breathing hard, the little tears in your eyes from how much you felt vulnerable while being tickled went away.
"Did'ya now?" He had a smug look on his face, "I just might." You nodded when he said that.
A minute of silence fell into the air between you two, his body on top of yours, careful not to squish you, he stares longingly into your eyes and smiles. "But I wanna stay here with my sweet girl." He kissed you before you could even respond, both of your guys' lips smashing together, he lays himself down next to you bringing you closer. The little squeaks of the bed as you two moved on it filled the air. Your body shifted on top of his, you smiled down at him and he chuckled.
"Whatcha gonna do?" he playfully chided, you looked a bit lost. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you brought your head down to kiss his neck. His warm hands slithered up your legs and stayed on your hips as he kissed you back, your skirt was riding up your thighs and Arthur smiled.
You got up and slid off your underwear and then got back onto the cot, unzipping his pants and taking his cock out. You balanced yourself above his hips, he stared up at you and smiled, your clit dragged against his tip, he groaned a bit, Arthur reached down to his cock, rubbing it against your wetness, making your hips falter a bit. He pushes his cock right into your entrance. A moan escaped your lips, hands finding his chest and applying a bit of pressure as you rode him. His cock stretched you out, and boy did it feel good. "Mhm, such a good girl fa' me..." He put his hands on your hips, slightly guiding them to move even faster.
The room was filled with the sounds of his grunts and your moans, the sounds of skin slapping together. "Fuck.." you moan when his cock hits your g-spot. Your knees already weak, he feels you starting to give up, he assists your efforts by bucking himself up into you. The only other time you've felt the burning sensation in your thighs is when you're riding your horse, but this felt good.
You lean down and kiss him some more, they were sloppy kisses but he took them gladly, you still rolled your hips.
"Takin me so well." He used his left hand to rub your clit, taking you completely over the edge, making you moan even louder. He needed you so bad, he was full of tension and pent up energy from everything. He'd been wanting to fuck you for a long time, a while, he watched you walk around camp talking to everyone as he was supposed to be resting and taking it easy, he would sit near the fire drinking, smoking or cleaning his guns.
He always thought of you, he needed you, what a man you'd made him.
Now, he started to rut faster into you, not taking it easy at all.
"Arthur--" You groaned out in pure pleasure, his rough hands caressed your soft skin, the hands that killed and strangled people, they were so soft to you, they pleasured you.
"Alright there, princess?" He checked on you and you nodded as you hid your face in the crook of his neck. Your cheeks were red and you could feel your cunt clench around him, you were both close, his hands brung you down even harder on him. "Y'gonna cum, girl?" He used his finger to tilt your chin up to look at him as you came. "Look at me." He demanded.
When your orgasm hit, you shook and moaned out his name. He came shortly after you.
"God-" You cried out in pleasure, "oh my..."
Arthur whimpered a bit, before he held onto you. grasping at your shoulders to keep himself grounded.
"Damn, you did so good for me..." he praised you.
"I did?" You smiled up at him as you laid there on top of his chest. \
"Sure did." He hugged you.
a/n if u liked this pls req more!
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f0point5 · 2 days
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What if I told you I’m back?
This was a request but tumblr ate, you’ll all just have to believe me. Someone asked for a Max POV during the best friend era. So, I decided to go with this one ✨set 16th April 2018✨ the day after the Chinese GP, because I feel like we don’t talk enough about the early friendship.
I hope this finds its way to whoever sent in the ask and that you enjoy it 🫶
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Max almost turns around three times on the way to your building.
The first time, it’s when he realises it’s late, gone ten p.m. on a Monday, you might be asleep. He should go home and come by tomorrow. But you’re a night owl, you won’t be asleep.
The second time, he thinks you won’t be asleep, but you won’t be expecting company. He hasn’t even texted, and he should have, but he left his phone in his jacket which he gave to his concierge to send upstairs with his bags. He should intrude. But he’s not exactly company, he’s seen you in your pyjamas, it’s not like he’s suggesting you go out.
The third time, it’s the absurdity of the situation that gives him pause. He hadn’t even set foot in his building before setting off to yours. After three and a half weeks away one more night shouldn’t be a big deal. Maybe you’ll think he’s a bit strange. But equally, it shouldn’t be a big deal to just see you for a minute, right? If only just to give you your present.
He’s surprised by much he found himself missing you. It’s not like he hasn’t been sued to being away from his friends and family his whole life, it’s not even like you didn’t talk while he was away. You talked a lot. But, he rationalises, he’d got used to having you around during winter break, you’d hardly been apart. You’d even come home to his mum’s with him just before Christmas. Your presence, your perfume, your way never letting him finish a sentence, it was all normal to him now. It wasn’t that he needed it, just that he had had to learn how to be without it, and that had been harder than anticipated. The last time he’d done that he was eight.
It only occurs to him now, as your building comes into view, that you might not feel the same way. You’d said you’d missed him countless times in the last three and a half weeks, but that didn’t signify. After all, he’d said it maybe twice and he here he was, asleep on his feet but at your door because he didn’t want to go home without seeing you.
He should just go home.
“Max?” No turning back now. He turns around to see you, dressed in a pretty blouse and a short skirt, teetering towards him on stiletto heels. “Maxy, Maxy, Maxy,”
You collide with him before he has a chance to laugh at the way you were squealing like a child. He hugs you back, holding you up when you lift your feet off the floor for a second. He’s half expecting you to smell like a distillery, unable and unwilling to comprehend that your reaction is all your own. But all he smells is your perfume, and it feels like Christmas all over again.
“Hey,” he says, lowering you to the ground and finally getting a good look at you. Your hair’s a little shorter, your face is- no, you couldn’t have gotten prettier. You’re a bit more tanned.
“I thought you were still in China,” you say, squeezing his shoulders. “You look so hungry, have you lost weight?”
“I just got back,” he says with a shrug. You’re almost his height in your heels, he notices for no discernible reason.
You take in his no doubt plane-rumpled appearance. “Did you come straight here?”
“Uh,” he clears his throat. He’s not going to admit that when you’re giving him a warranted look of confusion, but he doesn’t want to lie either. “I brought you a present.” He holds up the package, wrapped poorly on the flight home. Even the flight attendant had given him a sympathetic look as she watched him struggle.
“Aw, thanks,” you say, pressing your key fob against the censor and pulling open the door before Max can get to it. “Come up,”
“Are you sure?”
You give him an incredulous look, lit up by the golden glow of your lobby lights. “Of course,”
You tell him about the dinner you were just getting back from when he arrived, all the way up to your flat. Some people would find it odd or even rude that Max has been a continent away, racing the fastest cars on the planet in front of millions of people, and yet you’re perfectly at ease taking time to talk about your overly creamy pasta. Max likes it, relishes it, even. You’ve never seen him or his job as anything special. He went to work, you went to dinner. It’s normal. Just friends catching up.
You let him into your flat, heading straight for the kitchen, and Max takes the same seat at the breakfast island that he always does. He idly wonders if anyone else has sat in it since he’s been away.
“But then it’s not exactly Naples, you what can you expect. Sometimes I think the French sabotage Italian food on purpose,” you say, filling a wine glass with water from your fridge dispenser. “Great race, by the way. Glad my voodoo worked,”
Max scoffs. “So, you didn’t watch it,” he shakes his head as if that will help the memories fade quicker.
“I did. Got up at the crack of dawn and everything. And I cursed your car not to win,“ you say with a mischievous grin, pulling out a can of red bull from the fridge.
Max frowns. “What the fuck?”
“You can’t win when I’m not there to see it,” you declare, handing him the Red Bull. He reaches to take it, but you don’t let go until he looks at you. “I’d have been devastated,”
For the first time in his life, Max is actually half glad he didn’t win a race.
He chuckles, opening the can with one hand while sliding the gift along the counter towards you with the other.
“Well, I want to win,” he says, as you start picking at the copious amount of sellotape. “So you’ll just have to come to all the races,”
He’s surprised how much he means that.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Maxy. Oh my God, you can’t wrap for shit,” you say, finally managing to pull apart first Max’s wrapping, and then the box containing the, “Chopsticks?”
“Very fancy chopsticks,” Max explains. He points to the set of dark wood chopsticks you’re holding, gesturing to the intricate gold figures entwined on the top. “See, one set has dragons and one set has a phoenix? They’re famous in Chinese mythology. The guy said to give It to someone you like, they’re supposed to bring luck. Or something. I didn’t really understand his English,”
You stare at them for a while, a sort of bewildered smile on your face, and Max almost slaps himself. He should have just bought you a handbag. They had a Chanel in China. Why didn’t he just listen to his dad? This sentimental shit is weird and embarrassing and he should have just gone home.
“So,” you say, using the chopsticks to point at Max accusingly as you smirk at him. “You like me now? Who would have thought? After all those years of telling everyone how annoying I was, you like enough to want me to have good luck,”
“You-“ Max fights the urge to argue.
That smug look on your face still triggers him something awful. But behind it is someone who has become important to him. It’s not just that you know things about him that even he’s forgotten, it’s that he doesn’t want there ever be anything you don’t know about him. You him laugh, and he never wants to see you cry, and he’s used to being reviled and admired, and even liked, but you’re the only person who’s ever made him feel this understood.
“You’re my best friend,”
Once, he might have been embarrassed that you don’t say it back, but just like you know him, he knows you now, too. You grin at him, sipping your water as you look at him over the rim of your glass.
“Well, despite the fact that this whole chopstick story sounds like the beginning of an Indiana Jones movie, they’re beautiful, and I love them, and I promise I will only ever use them to eat Chinese food with you,” you say, putting the chopsticks back in their box. “And I’m glad you’re home.”
Max doesn’t say anything, fiddling with the can again, and you sigh.
“When are you leaving again?”
“Um,” he hesitates, like if he doesn’t say it then it won’t happen. He gives up and gives you an apologetic smile. “Thursday. Going to the UK for some work and then straight to Baku,”
“Oh,” your face, falls, and you toy with the stem of your glass, only for a few seconds, before you shrug. “Well, we should have dinner before you go, and then-“
“Do you-“ He cuts himself off, because he knows he should think about this more, but then you’re looking at him and he’s done thinking. “Do you want to come?”
“To the UK?”
“Yeah,” Max mumbles, looking down at his Red Bull as his fingers fiddle with the tab. “And to Baku,” he glances up to see your reaction, “and, I mean, anywhere,” he adds a shrug, because, obviously, the invitation is totally casual.
You shrug back. “Okay,”
He can hear his dad already, complaining about how you’re a distraction, you bring cameras and drama, how Max gives you too much of his attention on race weekends. But there’s worse things than Jos’s moaning, like not seeing you for another two weeks.
He barely has time to think about that before a Chinese takeout menu slides into his vision. He looks up at you, confused. “Didn’t you eat?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like you have in about a week. You are starting to get Cillian Murphy cheekbones,” you grimace. Max has no idea who that is but based on your face he doesn’t want to look like him. “And besides, I want to test out these magic chopsticks,”
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melrodrigo · 11 hours
Text
friends? p.2
Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader
Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?
Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean
Word Count: 2k+
A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!
part 1
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Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.
She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?
Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.
So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.
You.
You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.
At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.
But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.
You were, surprisingly smart.
Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?
Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.
It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.
"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.
It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.
"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.
She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.
"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.
You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.
She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.
She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.
You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.
"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.
You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.
"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.
She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"
"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.
"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.
"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.
His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"
Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.
She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.
"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.
"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.
"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.
He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."
The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.
Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.
It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.
You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.
"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.
"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.
You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.
You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.
A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.
Cairo Sweet.
Fuck.
Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.
You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.
Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.
"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.
"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.
She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.
You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.
Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.
"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.
She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.
"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.
Especially for her, you think.
"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.
"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.
"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.
Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.
"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.
You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.
You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.
Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.
"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.
"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.
You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.
"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.
She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.
The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.
"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.
She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.
"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?
She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.
"I don't  like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.
Debating on what you can't be certain.
"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.
You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.
Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.
"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.
It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.
Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.
You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.
You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.
You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.
"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.
She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.
Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.
"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.
You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.
The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.
Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.
"Oh god."
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scoonsalicious · 22 hours
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Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 4
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,
Word Count: 741
Previously On...: Steve made some confessions.
A/N: Finally, resolutions!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
You sat there, staring off into space for several moments. You couldn’t believe that had just happened. Was there no end to the number of times a super soldier would betray you?
Bucky cleared his throat after a few silent minutes. “I’ll… I’ll leave you alone now, doll,” he said. “‘M sure I’m one of the last people you want to see right now.”
He made to leave, but you called him back. “Buck, no,” you said. He turned around and looked at you quixotically. “Stay. We’re not done.”
He swallowed, then nodded, coming back to sit in the armchair next to your bed. “Yeah, okay,” he said. 
“Did you mean what you said,” you asked, looking up at him. “Back in Atlantic City? When you said you were self-sabotaging?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes at you in confusion, as if that was the last topic of conversation he expected you to bring up right now. “When, uh… when you broke things off, for good, after Russia, I started seeing Raynor a lot more frequently. Like, two hours a day, every day,” he offered. “I needed to understand why I kept ruining things, especially when you make me so damned happy. It didn’t make sense to me.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, didn’t make much sense to me, either,” you told him with a smirk, but he didn’t catch it.
“She told me, and I’m paraphrasin’ here, that, despite all the progress I’ve made, I still haven’t forgiven myself for the things I’ve done as the Winter Soldier,” he said, fidgeting with his metal fingers. “And, because I haven’t forgiven myself, I can’t see myself as being worth being loved, being happy. So, I did things, behaved in ways that proved I shouldn’t be. Like a, uh… ‘self-fulfilling prophecy,’ she said.
“She said that I created a loop, a cycle, where I kept makin’ fucked up decisions because I kept expectin’ to fuck up,” he continued. “Like, of course I hurt you, because I was scared of hurting you, if that makes sense? She said Carthage was like a mirror. When I sought validation from her, I was really seeking it from myself. I don’t necessarily know if I buy that,” he chuckled humorously. “Feels like it lets me off the hook too easily, but the doc seems to think it makes sense.”
You nodded, considering his words. “I thought you said she was a shitty quack,” you said after a moment. Bucky looked at you questioningly. “I did.”
“Sounds to me like you owe her a ‘thank you,’” you said, smiling at him. “What did she tell you to do about it?”
Bucky shrugged. “She called me a fucking dumbass, to start. Told me real love isn’t about whether or not you think you’re worthy of someone; it’s about working to be worthy of someone, to keep striving to be the best version of yourself for them. She said I needed to learn how to be honest, with you, and myself, to let you know when I’m struggling, to open up so we can help each other carry our burdens, and not hide mine away because I’m afraid.”
“She sounds a lot smarter than you’ve ever given her credit for,” you teased gently.
Bucky snorted. “Never let her hear you say that,” he said. “I won’t hear the end of it.”
“Can I ask you a question?” he said, after a moment of silence. You nodded. “Did you mean what you said, in front of Carthage, that you wished we could start fresh? Build something new? Something better?”
You nodded again. “With my whole heart,” you told him. 
Bucky seemed to take a moment to contemplate your words before he stuck out his hand. “‘M Bucky,” he said.
You scoffed playfully. “What the hell kind of name is ‘Bucky’?” you asked with a grin.
“I dunno,” he said with an answering grin of his own. “What the hell kind of name is Pocket?”
You grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled him to you, slotting your mouth over his and feeling his smile against your lips. “POCKET!” you heard Tony shout from behind the closed door. “He’s been in there long enough! The people demand to know! What the ‘F’ Is It?”
You and Bucky broke apart from your kiss, foreheads pressed together as you both laughed. Yeah, you thought with a smile, the two of you were going to be okay.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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pinkthrone445 · 3 days
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-Let it burn to the ground- Part 3
Part 1 Part 2
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Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Gender:fluf, soft, love
Warnings:Mention about past trauma, fires, boring but useful explanation of CPR
Summary:Melissa lets the fire of love consume her when she meets the new chief of the fire station.
After the amazing night of sex, you both have to deal with the consequences.
Mel ate breakfast in silence, glancing from time to time at her cell phone to see if you responded to her good morning message, but no notification came, you didn't even had opened her message, what made the redhead sigh sad
-"Soooo..."-Her housemate couldn't stand the silence any longer and started talking-"Last night was that good or did you scream like a wild animal on purpose to boost the chief's ego and interrupt my beauty sleep?"- Jacob asked as he ate his cereal, staring at her
-"My body hurts in parts that I didn't even knew existed, so yeah, she was that good" - The redhead replied without much emotion in her voice
-"So why do you look so sad?" - He asked, confused, and Mel sighed again
-"Because she left without saying goodbye... And now she doesn't even read my messages..."- She murmured sadly. Mel wasn't a self-doubting person, she was usually very confident in who she was and how she looked. But she couldn't help but wonder what had made you leave just like that, maybe you hadn't liked her body, she usually turned off the lights, but last night she was so desperate that she completely forgot about it. Or maybe you didn't like that the night focused only on her pleasure and not on you too... Maybe you'd reconsidered that she'd been with one of your subordinates in that same bed and you didn't like it...
-"Maybe she had an emergency at work and had to run away, she's the chief after all, her day off only lasted until 12 o'clock yesterday, if she was called after that time for an emergency, she would have had to run to help..."-Her friend commented and Mel nodded thinking about that possibility, it was something that could have definitely happened, which calmed her down a bit.
But two more days passed without you giving any signs, your son continued to go to school, but in none of those days that had passed had you gone to take him to school or pick him up. She even saw that your son was picked up by one of your sisters who looked a lot like you and the redhead thought about going to talk to her to find out something about you, but she didn't want to look so desperate so she didn't do it.
On the other hand, Jacob was upset to see his housemate so sad, and he wasn't a person who sat idly by when he saw one of his friends in pain, so he decided to do what the redhead would never do, visit you at the station to see what was going on and get answers.
When he arrived at the station he was surprised to see all the firetrucks outside being washed and cleaned so thoroughly he could see his reflection in the red metallic paint
-"Excuse me, hi" - Jacob spoke up to get the attention of the firefighters who were cleaning-"Does anyone know where I can find the station chief?"-He asked with his best smile
-"She is in her office, but I wouldn't recommend you to see her, lately she has been more bitch than usual..."-One of the annoyed firefighters commented-"Be careful, maybe you'll go see her and she'll get you cleaning up too" - He joked making the others laugh and Jacob rolled his eyes going to the entrence desk asking to see you.
You were reading some reports with a very deep frown when Jacob entered your office
-"Excuse me chief..."-Jacob spoke in a soft tone, your angry face did caused him a little fear
-"I told them that nobody could interrupt..."- You began to speak annoyantly, but relaxed your gaze at the sight of the scrawny young man at your door-"Hello Jacob, what are you doing here?" - You consulted and he looked at you confused
-"You know my name? Wow..."-The young man was proud of that for some reason
-"Yes, you are the boyfriend of one of my younger firefighters, besides Melissa told me some really funny anecdotes about you... Can I help you with something? I'm a little bit busy" - You asked seriously looking at your paperwork again
-"He is not, we are not... Did he said something to you?... Nevermind, that's not why I'm here for, I'm here for Melissa..."-Jacob spoke, smiling a little as he saw your interest return to him at the slightest mention of the redhead, you put your papers aside and looked at it with complete attention
-"What happened to Melissa? It she ok?" - Your voice sounded really worried
-"She is not, she is sad because you didn't call her again and you run away in the middle of the night after interrupting my beauty sleep with those screams... Why haven't you call her again?" - He asked with a frown, approaching you more confidently
-"Because I can't..."-You whispered without looking at him
-"WHY!?" - He yelled at you slamming your desk, but his anger and confidence quickly disappeared when you stood up from your desk with a frown and crossing arms facing him, sudently he felt small and had to take a few steps back-"Why ma'am? If you care to tell me, please" - He asked again but softer this time
-"Because I can't do casual, no with her at least... Melissa wants casual sex, no a relationship right now, and I can't do it... Have you seen her? We had this amazing connection, amazing chats, amazing dancing, funny moments and amazing sex and she is amazing... Do you know how often that happens in a first date? Never... Even my first date with my husband was worse and I end up marring him... I can't do casual sex after that, I can't when I feel that kind of connection with her... And if I keep seeing her I won't be able to say no everytime she asks me to come, and that would only destroy me more because I will keep my hopes up even if I know it's a dead end... I got scared of getting hurt okey?"-You sighed a little, embarrassed to admit that out loud while almost a complete stranger listened to you. Jacob, on the other hand, didn't know what excuse for your behavior he was waiting for, but it certainly wasn't that.
-"I... Didn't knew, sorry... But at least you own her an explanation, you can't vanish like that, she is sad and it scares me when she is sad... Please talk to her" - His friend whispered and you sighed
-"I'll talk to her... Later, I need to work right now..."-You whispered going back to your desk and he nodded opening the door
-"Thank you..."-He answered
-"By the way cupid, make a move on your friend, he will say yes, he is always checking his phone at work for your messages, God knows how many times I gave him a warning for being with that phone talking to you at work..."-You whispered without looking at him, but you could feel the way he smiled at your comment when he closed the door.
Hours later, you went to pick up your son from school, arriving a little bit earlier, trying to see Mel and talk a little before your son finished his classes.
After introducing yourself at the entrance, you made your way to Melissa's classroom to find it empty, confused you walked down the hallway until you heard her familiar tone of voice
-"Fudge! How is possible that he keeps winning?!" - The redhead spoke annoyed, looking at her phone while sitting in the teacher's room. You approached carefully and knocked on the door gently to get her attention, when her gaze fell on your face she raised her eyebrows in surprise, but quickly her face changed to seriousness and she looked back at her phone
-"Hi Melissa..."-You whispered but she didn't even look at you, you sighed and moved a little closer carefully-"How are you?..."-You gave her a little smile
-"Fine"-It was all the answer she gave you
-"Look... I can see you are mad at me and you are in all your right... I'm sorry for not answering your texts this few days" - You whispered and she just shrugged her shoulders
-"I don't care..."-She replied curtly again and you walked closer to her
-"I am really sorry, I didn't wanted to hurt you... I just got scared of how fast everything went and didn't find the strength to answer..."-You whispered looking at her-"Do you think I could have another chance? I know you felt our connection too, maybe it's worth another try? I promise not to disappear again" - You muttered and she looked at you over the edge of her glasses
-"I can't, I'm busy, I have a date with someone tonight" - She replied seriously and you sighed, on one hand you were afraid of the anger in her eyes and on the other hand this was exactly what you feared, she didn't want something serious and the fact that she already had another date after 3 days of being with you confirmed it even more
-"Oh, Okey, sorry for bother you"-You whispered walking to the door-"And sorry for ignoring you..."-You left the room heading to the exit to wait for your kid. For some reason the redhead's response had hurt you more than you'd like to admit, though maybe the fact that you ignored her had pushed her to that, you thought maybe you'd get another chance. Maybe you'd have to get used to mediocre dates since no other could match the connection you'd had with her in the first one.
After being lost in thought, your son ran out of school towards you with his small backpack on his back, smiling a lot when he saw that you were the one who went to pick him up
-"Mommy!" - The little one hugged you tight and you hugged him too, needing those hugs more than he knew. When he stepped back a little and saw your face, he frowned-"Why are you crying mom?"-Your son took your face with his little hands and you sighed, you didn't even realize that a tear had escaped your eye
-"It's just that I missed you so much" - You whispered and hugged him again-"Do you want to go for ice cream?" - You asked and he smiled and nodded excitedly.
Another week passed and your station had returned to Abbot to take the CPR trainer test to the teachers who had not been present the past time and again to a few who didn't do it correctly, although you did not want to go, the other firefighters had training exercises and you were one of the few who was free, so you had to attend along with Jacob's "friend", Avi.
Gregory, Melissa, Ava,Janine, Jacob and another teachers had to take it again, so there was no scape of seeing the redhead.
When you arrived, you prepared the room with the practice dummies, placing some on the floor and others on tables. When everything was ready, the teachers came in. Melissa frowned as she walked in and saw you, but you just decided to keep greeting them as if nothing happened.
As the exercises began you leat Avi lead the way and you stood on a corner in silence with a very rigid posture, you could quickly saw why Melissa had failed her previous test, she had terrible posture and her compressions were very weak, Jacob was there because he wanted, Janine was doing it again because she hadn't taken the proper time to do it last time and Ava and Gregory had to do it because they hadn't been certified because they hadn't been present the time before.
-"I want to clarify a couple of things... Since the previous instructor didn't explain everything that was needed... Before we start compressions, you need to check that you don't have anything around that could cause further harm to you or the victim, like fire around or something that could fall on you. Second, you need to check first if the person is conscious, to start CPR, you need to have 3 missing things, no breathing, no movement and no response on someone, at that point you need to ask someone to call 911 while you start the compressions, if there is no one around, you call it first and then start the compression. The person has to be on a hard and flat surface, we are going to find the center of the chest, place one hand on top of the other and interlace the fingers, pressing mostly with our palm. We bend over the victim, our elbows locked and arms straight. They have to be at least 2 inches deep and at least 100 times per minute, it's more than one per second so they have to be fast and consistent"-As you explained each step, you only looked your eyes at the doll or the others avoiding the redhead, even though you knew her gaze was fixed on you-"Every 30 compressions, keep count, give 2 breaths to the victim... If you start to get tired, it is preferable to have someone else continue the compressions for you while you rest, because if you are tired your compressions will not be as deep as they were at the beginning nor will they be very effective... Here at school they have masks to give mouth-to-mouth breathing, they cover the nose and the mouth and they are only one way air pass, it is preferable that you use them as this way we avoid contaminating ourselves with viruses, budy fluids or contagious deseases. If we don't have a breathing shield to do it and we are not sure if we should touch the other person's mouth, remember that CPR without mouth to mouth interaction is also effective and can provide the effect that we need in a safer way. Now! Pay attention, it's different for children till the age of 15 depending how big they are. You still have to control the same thing as at the beginning, check if they breathe, move or have reactions. Check that the environment is safe and call the 911. But when we start compressions, you will do it with one hand only, no both because children chest are more fragile and we can broke a bone... After 30 compressions, you breath twice on their mouth using the face shield or breathing mask and then keep with the compressions until the ambulance arrives... Any questions?"-You finished your explanation and asked as everyone shook their heads-"Okey, then, if everyone payed attention, dived yourself into couples and start your compressions, if everything goes as we instructed, you will have your certificate at the end of the class"-You commented and watched as everyone worked.
Melissa was annoyed with the lack of attention you were paying to her, but it started to bother her more when her name started coming out of your mouth non stop
-"Melissa you didn't check your surroundings" "Melissa you need do deeper compressions" "Melissa arms straight" "Melissa, faster" "Melissa use the face shield" "Melissa, Melissa, Melissa" - she was tired of hearing you complain about her all the time, even tho in reality you were checking everyone's movements.
The redhead put the doll aside and stood in front of you with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed
-"Can we talk in the next room?"-She asked and you looked at her with a frown too
-"Avi, keep checking them, I'll be back in a minute" - You commented by following the redhead to another classroom
-"What was all of that?! You were being a bitch to me!" - The redhead whispered/screamed
-"I just was correcting what was needed to be corrected, it's my job, you need to do the things right to get your certificate" - You muttered authoritatively and she scoffed
-"Admit it you were only trying to make me embarrassed! You are only mad at me because I didn't accept another date after you vanish for three days!" - The redhead tapped your shoulder trying to push you but she didn't move you an inch, on the contrary, you got closer to her coming face to face
-"I'm not mad at you for that! I'm mad at myself because I run away because it scared me how casual everything is with you!" - You replied with a frown
-"I didn't wanted casual with you! I wanted a million more dates! You think I didn't felt that connection with you?!" - Melissa commented annoyed
-"Then why you went out dating again so soon?" - This time your tone of voice was calmer and softer, but little hurt
-"I didn't had a date, I just wanted you to feel hurt like I felt..."-she confessed and you sighed
-"I hate you" - You whispered laughing softly - "I hate that that worked" - You confessed and she smiled arrogantly
-"I hate you too" - She said and tried to give you a little peck, but you grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to you kissing her deeper, grabbing her jacket with force and making her moan a little bit when you pull apart biting softly her lip- Can we have another date tomorrow?" - She whispered over your lips
-"Chris has a football game and I promise to be there" - You whispered and she signed-"But you are invited if you want... He will be happy to have more people cheering him" - You commented and she smiled
-"I will love it..."-she answered and walked away toward the door
-"The kiss doesn't mean that you don't need to be better at the test, if you don't improve I won't give you the certificate" - You confessed and she rolled her eyes
-"I hate you!" - She replied and you laughed walking behind her.
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sp1d3rzz · 2 days
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Warning!! : PiV unprotected, electrocution kink?? (little zaps), dirty talk, and virgin!reader. Lemme know if i missed anything.
Summary : Its your birthday, and you stupidly confess to being a virgin. But don't worry, he can help with that <33
A/N : Happy birthday, @luvv4choso !! Enjoy (๑>◡<๑)
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Wait—" Kaminari is stunned. "You're a virgin?"
You confessed this without thinking about it, which was highly stupid. He looks at you like you're a ghost. "Shut up! I shouldn't have even told you.."
He finds this funny, though he holds back his laughter to avoid making you feel even worse. "I mean, it's.. normal, right?" He can't even be sure.
You sit ashamed on your bed, thumb rubbing your arm in embarrassment. If you're honest, sex never occurred to you. Your life at school, as a hero, and other things kept you busy.
Kaminara sits next to, staring awkwardly at the ceiling. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad." His apology sounds genuine, and it makes you feel a little better, but not fully.
"Maybe.. I could help you?"
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
"Shit—" His hand reached down to eagerly rub your clit. "She needed this, huh?" A cocky smirk spreads from ear to ear.
He has you scrambled in front of him, back against the soft sheets of your once put together bed. Your pillows are long gone onto the floor, and your blankets are barely on aswell.
One of his hand is toying with your clit, while one is holding the side of face. "You look so pretty like this– fuck—can't ever get enough of you.." His eyes are focused onto yours, hair falling in front of his face to give you a beautiful sight.
His cock is sliding in and out of you with no patience. Angrily and greedy. Each and every thrust hits your g-spot, giving you no time to think. Nevertheless even time to move. His hips are slapping against your pelvic bone rapidly, and you're sure he's going to break you.
"Kam— ah!!" The tip of his cock meets with your spongey wall and you arch your back, deafened with the sound of pleasure.
Now he's got you.
You swear he's doing it on purpose now, destroying your guts so you know how good sex feels like. What you've been missing out on the whole entire time.
The sweet sounds of slick and skin connecting fill the room up, and you know it'll stay there for awhile. "How's my birthday girl? You alright, gorgeous?" He's panting now, and you can tell he's losing energy. "Good– mm, fuck right there!"
Clearly you encourage him because he suddenly uses a hand to pull your leg over his shoulder. And before you can even possibly consider what he's about to do, he bites down onto your calve.
"Oh!–"
His thrusts get deeper, hitting all over your walls that you have no time to catch your breath, only take what he gives you. "Feels so good, ngh- shit.."
He's about to finish.
A thumb reaches down to massages your clit, urging you cum before him. He wants to make this experience life changing and unforgettable.
His hips smack harshly into your, and he uses a small electrical charge to stimulate you're clit. "Feel that, pretty girl??"
A scream escapes your lips, making him grin. Your whole body is a trembling mess under him. Sticky, lewd, and perfect.
He slams one more time into you, before his cock twitches and he cums inside your warm walls. He fills you up to the brim, making sure you're stuffed with his seed.
The both of you rest your minds for a moment, catching your breath. You have no idea what he just did, but whatever it was has you hooked.
His eyes fall down to yours once he regains self control. "You alright?" You can only nod your head as your body gains its consciousness.
A small chuckle falls from his mouth and he leans down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. "Happy birthday."
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utilitycaster · 3 days
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RE: Ruidusborn superstition - It's weird because Matt has had several opportunities to make it about persecution and hasn't. Laura could've made it a stronger point in her backstory with Gelvaan and didn't. This rounding up Ruidusborn and throwing them in jail is a theoretical crime that a bad guy in a cult told them might happen. 
Dealing with the unfair persecution of non Vanguard Ruidusborn in the fallout of this could be interesting to explore, but a) it hasn’t happened yet and b) still entirely the fault of the Vanguard for, ya know, all the crime. I just don’t get why some folks aren’t exploring the actual interesting conflict in front of them (i.e. being tied to something inherently destructive, your parent using you as a justification for her crimes, etc.) and instead make it about some secret twist coming that will totally make Liliana and the Vanguard “correct” actually in order to (I assume?) justify Imogen’s brief consideration of them and dunk on Orym for having the audacity to not be objective about the organization that killed his family.
Hey anon,
This is a very good point re: the actual conflicts present. I know I've been guilty of going hard on Liliana and the thing is I do find her a profoundly compelling and sympathetic villain. I think she was placed in an impossible position by Predathos imbuing her with troubling and at times painful powers; that despite having good intentions with regards to the nature of Ruidus (there is a lot of value in both studying it and in concealing its nature, depending on your perspective) people other than Ludinus were unable to give her answers and so she was easy prey for his cult; and she has since been driven by these motivations so far down the road of the Ruby Vanguard that even when the daughter she has believed herself for so long to be protecting tries to give her an out and asks her why she's doing this, she can't answer but is terrified of leaving. She is very sympathetic. She is very much a villain. And yes, I'll cover Orym in a second.
The following is, by necessity due to the nature of what I want to discuss, going to touch on some real-world politics though mostly in the sense of abstract strategy with very few specific actual positions. I want to note that we are talking about a fictional work here, and while I do have some presumptions regarding the people advocating for the Vanguard, they are just that - presumptions. I will only say that if this is how the people advocating for the Vanguard engage with people in real-world activism (if they partake in that in the first place), this may be a revealing insight into why they are perhaps less than successful.
Every argument in favor of killing the gods ultimately presupposes killing the gods is correct. They are all, ultimately, either tautological (we should kill the gods because they are deserving of death) and assume that the only objective conclusion is "we should kill the gods", therefore anything other than "we should kill the gods" cannot be objective.
I may be repeating myself since I've said this a lot since the last episode but: there as a truly bone-chilling lack of empathy in thestatement that Orym needs to stop bringing up his dead family and get over it and be objective (read: agree with the premise that the gods should be killed). Actually, if you are a person capable of perceiving others as people, you will likely realize that it is cruel and absurd to expect someone to say "this group murdered my family, but because they did so with the correct motivations, I shall stop mentioning it." As you indicated, it's bizarre that Orym is expected to set the wholesale murder - deliberately set up with no hope of resurrection, just to twist the knife - aside, but Imogen is never expected to set aside the (let's face it, extremely tenuous, given that Liliana's been absent for over a quarter-century) feelings about her mother, a person who recruits child soldiers, turned Vax into an orb, and is a general in the death cult that murdered Orym's husband and father. Like, in a real-world scenario, someone in Orym's position very well might have just left over this. Your friends keep failing to consider your trauma? Perhaps it's time to, painful as it may be, find friends who will be sensitive. [I don't want to focus on the shipping or character dynamic aspects with that particularly argument against Orym, but this is a fictional work and I do think another running theme in all sorts of discourse is that you do not need to justify your ships as logical, and when you do, you really do sound like "why doesn't Ross, the largest friend, simply eat all the other friends." There are logical reasons why Orym might not want to talk with, for example, Fearne or Ashton; but also the heart wants what it wants, and again, if you aren't truly ignorant about the way human psychology works you have to acknowledge that.]
Before I move on to other items I want to note I've as of late seen attempts not just to discredit Orym but to pathologize his behavior as self-harming or moral OCD or a failure to get fully over grief (again, an expectation that is not just devoid of empathy but also sets the standard of 'get over grief' as "agrees with me") and not just "hey, this group killed my husband and father in front of me and I understandably will not budge on this particular front. So there's also a growing ableist push, here, because someone doesn't agree with you and will not agree with you and also might want to kiss someone different than whom you want them to kiss.
As of late, the banner of those wronged by the gods has shifted from any of Bells Hells to those of Aeor, and that is a bad sign in a D&D campaign. If you need to set aside the PCs in order to rely on NPCs who have not shown up in the current narrative? You are clinging to a melting iceberg, my man. (More so after invoking FCG as one of the victims of Aeor's demise, rather than someone created to be used for malicious purposes by Aeor; and even more so after they destroyed themself specifically in heroic sacrifice to save the rest of the party from a Vanguard general.). But more seriously, the focus on Aeor feels reminiscent of advocacy for the unborn; or, to take a page from my own personal experiences and move this back into a fandom realm, the way people will frequently more loudly decry antisemitism for depictions of goblins than for, say, the fact that I don't know of an American synagogue that hasn't experienced a bomb threat in the past 10 years. It's very easy to advocate for corpses or fetuses over the living, or for fictional characters over real people who might be less than perfect. Much easier to ensure they never do such inconvenient things as disagree with you or have their own suggestions or be complicated. It hearkens back to some of the conversations I and others had earlier this campaign about a denial of agency because by making characters victims "stripped of choice," (always that phrasing) suddenly they can't do wrong. They make for a shit story, but at least you can feel morally pure about your flavorless cardboard that ultimately means nothing in-world or out. (And if they don't have agency, that means your morality pet can't run away. Or blow themselves up in a stunning rejection of your argument.)
Returning to the Vanguard: an ongoing discussion in activist spaces (and internet ones as well) is that there's a weird ignorance of optics as an important factor in activism. I know it seems frustrating - why can't people just see that this cause is just - but optics have always been a crucial part of any successful movement. I mean, even if you do believe that we need to do more to combat climate change - and I do - my, and most people's response to the environmental activists who keep throwing soup or paint on artwork is "ugh, this again?" I mean, functionally, while the cause is far more just, it's not terribly distinct from the weird-ass He Gets Us ad campaign; most people are going to say "and you're doing this instead of anything helpful...why?" The Vanguard's optics SUCK. Sure, they've fomented some unrest, but it is an unfortunate truth that the vast majority of people will prefer the inherent violence of a stable system that they are used to over violent unrest. For a successful coup or radical change, either you need to strike at the seat of power extremely quickly or you need to show that you are the more, for lack of a better term, civilized option, and the Vanguard has failed utterly in both these. You're going to get a few places like Hearthdell (though, really, how long will that last given that they got rid of the temple without a scrap of help from Ludinus) but you're going to get a lot of places where city dwellers say "ugh, these stupid crystals are so fucking loud, could this motherfucker shut up" and you're also going to get no shortage of places that say "my family member was taken in by this cult" or "these guys murdered my professor". The rightness or wrongness of the Vanguard's politics aside, a lot of people in-world are likely to side with Orym - these people are murderers who disturb the peace and we should stop them. The cause is lost. Is it, in some absolute sense, fair that people will judge you more for how you convey a message than what the message is? No, although if you convey it in rivers of blood, then, perhaps, yes. But it is, fair or not, often true.
Which brings me back to Orym. I think the reason people are stooping so low specifically to malign and discredit Orym is because he brings all of the above uncomfortably to light. He's aligned with Keyleth, who quite frankly until pretty recently was, within the fandom, partly as (understandable) backlash to the hate she received, and partly because she was, if nothing else, always portrayed as someone deeply attuned to the human costs, treated as a morally infallible authority; and she is no friend to the gods yet still believes their demise is far too great a risk to take. Again, thinking of yourself as Exandria's equivalent of the man on the street (Imahara Joe the Plumber?), are you going to listen to "those people killed my husband and father to prove a hypothesis so that they could tether the moon?" or "my mom, who left me when I was two years old and never came back or sent a letter, is one of those people?" And that's assuming Imogen's even going to make that argument, which, as her actions indicate, she's probably not going to. But most of all I think they really don't like that Orym isn't backing down from "That is the blade that killed my father and husband. She is not right." He's kept to this story the entire time, while the positions of others have evolved. And he's telling the truth. Every time he says this, I think anyone who isn't actually a complete black hole of empathy must confront how much of their humanity they are supressing just to make a poorly-argued point about a D&D show and I'd imagine that can't make one feel very good.
I think people are terrified of Orym's conviction, because he has shown, time and time again, that he is not going to be swayed. I don't think, in fact, that he's going to be swayed by seeing Aeor, should that happen, since Aeor was destroyed a thousand years before he, Will, or Derrig were born, and their murders failed to undo that harm in any way. A really good way to turn people away from your cause, even if it's a good one, is killing those they love. And again, it's fine if you see that position as unfair, or ignorant, or even amoral. It's also extremely true. And I think people realize it's true, given that the only defenses I've seen for Liliana have been "well, but she's Imogen's mother" and "well, it's shockingly easy for people to fall into a cult, because this has happened to my family members." Clearly, we agree that people will place personal connections and the pain of those close to them over ideology. Orym's is just really inconvenient for some people, and so he must be discredited.
In the end: the people in the story who at every turn choose manipulation, indoctrination, violence, subjugation, and conquest are saying "This is the way; you just have to trust me." Is it any surprise most people watching the show are saying "No, I don't think I will"?
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myhaikyuuacademia · 3 days
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Totally fake | Ant x Reader (Heartbreak High)
Fake dating, fem!reader A/N: it’s been a while since I watched s1 so forgive me if the timeline is a little wonky. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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You had no idea how you got yourself in this… situation. In this mess, honestly. Thanks to Amerie, the whole school life had imploded. Thanks a lot, Map Bitch. Now here you were, standing next to her trying to get a ticket for the party as Ant told her about how his mom reacted to the whole Darren wristy thing. Your face twinged up in sympathy. Somehow Quinni and Darren had adopted Amerie into your friendgroup after the whole thing, so here you were, supporting your new friend. Well, it was more like she dragged you along. Moral support or something. Ant ended up telling Ams to go ask Spider and she trudged away disappointed, but you stayed, hesitating. “Um, I’m sorry about your mom.” You offered. What a stupid thing to say, you cursed yourself. Boys made you nervous. “Yeah, it really sucks. I love Jesus and all but going to church 3 more times a week is reaaaaally boring.” He groaned. You began walking to your next class together. “Um.” You started talking before you could think. You were a fixer, it was a whole thing. A pathological need to fix things, which is why you couldn’t really be against Quinni and Darren taking Amerie in, you wanted to help fix this. But sometimes in your need to fix things you went a little overboard. You realized that that was what you were doing after you had already started talking, and now you didn’t know what to say. But being quiet now was also embarrassing. “What’s up?” Ant stopped and leaned against the doorway of your classroom. Looking at you expectantly. Fuck it. “Maybe I could help.” You looked at him. “With your mom I mean.” He looked confused, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what you were proposing. “How?” Taking a deep breath in, you began rambling the plan that had formed in your head in the span of maybe 10 seconds. Which in hindsight, perhaps was a sign that this was a really dumb idea. “Well. I’m assuming your moms problem is that Darren is not a girl. Because you’re Christian and all. Which, I don’t know, not very Christian, ya know? Loving your neighbour and all. But anyway. If her problem is in fact that, I am a very good liar, I know enough about like the bible and stuff, and I happen to be a girl…” You trail off. He looked as confused as he did before you started talking, which, honestly, you figured this would not be enough to get him to understand. It was just too embarrassing to finish. You felt cold all of a sudden. Nervous. Rubbing your arms for warmth, or perhaps in an attempt to rub the nervousness away. “I’m saying I could be your fake girlfriend until she calms down.” You finally huffed out. “Ohhhhhhh” You swore you could almost see the lightbulb that went off above his head. “Gotcha.” He nodded contemplatively. “You’re really smart, y/n, I’m impressed.” Still nodding. You were a little surprised he knew your name. People tended to not know it because you mostly kept to yourself outside of your friendship with Darren and Quinni. And you hadn’t talked to Ant before, like literally ever. Yeah you shared a lot of classes, but he didn’t really seem to pay attention and so far you had never been paired with him for any group work. “Let’s do it.” He grinned, excitedly. “Wait what?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “For real?” You didn’t know what you expected his answer to be, but for some reason you hadn’t prepared yourself for a yes.
“Yeah! I’m in! I only see positives honestly. I get to pretend to date the coolest girl I know and get my mom off my back.” Wait, what did he say? The coolest girl he knows? Huh? You blinked in confusion as he left you standing in front of the open door to go to his seat. Autopilot activated you went to your seat, in between Darren and Quinni. Completely zoned out your eyes trained on Ant who was sitting a couple rows ahead and to your right. “Earth to y/n, repeat Earth to y/n.” A hand was waving in front of your face and you blinked as you turned to Darren. “huh?”. “What’s wrong with you today, space girl?” They asked. “What?” Your brain hadn’t completely caught up yet. “Why were you talking to Ant?” Quinni asked excitedly. Why was she excited? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk to him before.” She mused. Uh. What were you supposed to tell them? Both of them looked at you expectantly. Completely frozen, your brain refused to cooperate. “I.. uh. Amerie. Party. Slapband. You know?” The words were more stuttered out than said, and they did in fact not know what you meant.  Your saviour came in the form of a very out-of-breath Amerie, who was almost late to class, but just almost. She fell into her seat next to Quinni and immediately started babbling about whatever it was she was up to after she had left you and Ant, taking all attention off of you. And if they saw you staring at Ant the whole class, they didn’t say anything. Yet.
By the end of the school day you had bounced back, the whole Ant thing still nagging at a corner of your brain but not at the front anymore. Until you were walking out the school gate with Darren, Quinni and Amerie, that is. “Hey, y/n, Wait up!.” This caught the attention of your more than nosy friends. You stopped and turned around to see Ant jogging up with a stupidly cute grin on his face. “Um, hi, what’s up?” Your face felt unusually flushed. Your friends looked at you like they were vultures and you, and the ensuing gossip that would come from this, their prey. You didn’t need to look at them to know that. “Here.” He held out a slapband. “You don’t have one yet, do you?” “No, I don’t, actually.” You were about to tell him that you were not interested. Partys? Not your thing. But the way he looked at you, and the fact that he got you one and went out of his way to give it to you, rendered you incapable of rejecting it. He was waiting for you to take it, or do something to accept it, so you lifted your arm and held it out in front of him. He slapped it on your arm and you mumbled out a thank you. “No worries, babe.” He leaned in and gave you quick peck on the cheek before he proceeded to wink at you and then leave with a wave and a “See you later!”. You almost dropped to your knees. What the hell just happened. Wide-eyed you looked after him, hand lifting to touch the cheek he had just kissed, legs still awfully wobbly. “BABE?!?!?!” A chorus of awestruck half-yells ripped you out of your moment, seconds before your friends came into view in front of you and crowded you. This was… too much. You gave up trying to keep your legs steady and dropped down to the ground, sitting on your knees, before shifting to sit criss-cross applesauce. “Whoa, shit girl, you okay?” Amerie dropped down next to you. Not trusting your voice you simply nodded yes. “Oh my god, you and Anthony Vaughn?” Darren crouched down next, almost scandalized by what they had just witnessed. “Oh, are we sitting now?” Quinni, bless her, sat down next to you. “Yeah…” You just said, to no one in particular, nodding. “Oh my god, you’re like, a total goner.” Amerie laughed. “I am?” You turned to look at her with puppy-dog eyes. Before this day started, you had never talked to Anthony Vaughn before, and now, before it ended, you were apparently head over heels for him. You blamed it on hormones, or some kind of chemical inbalance in your brain. Because… there was no way, right?
This would make the fake-dating significantly harder, you concluded, after you had time to mull it over. You and your friends had continued sitting on the ground for a good 10 minutes, before you felt stable enough to attempt standing and walking again. Of course they all had a million questions, yelling simultaneously, trying to understand what they had just witnessed. You had no idea what to tell them. “I will tell you once I know.” You end up saying, which leads to more questions. “Seriously guys, not right now.” You couldn’t tell them anything before you lined up stories with Ant. Well, technically you could tell them it was all fake, but they were all huge blabbermouths, and you wanted to check in with Ant first, before doing anything. You hadn’t expected him to just… go and do that. Like, at least you had expected talking to him once, or maybe twice, about what being in a fake relationship entailed, you know, lining up stories, where, what, who, when…. What kind of person his mother was, how far to go, how much to do to make it believable. But now everything had kind of blown up and it had to wait. You didn’t even have his number, you realized, after you were finally alone. The gang had tried to peer-pressure you into making this a whole goss-sesh at the diner, but you managed to worm your way out of it. Now they would probably just do it anyway, but without you to defend yourself. Not that there was anything you could say right now. Frustrated you blew a piece of hair out of your face. This was gonna be one hell of a week.
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sequinsmile-x · 3 days
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Quality Time
She missed her husband, even though he was right there with her.
Part of the Love Languages series
-x-
Hi besties,
This is just...pure fluff really because that is all my brain was capable of after a very busy few days at work.
This is just these two idiots being idiots for each other.
I really hope you like it, as always please let me know what you think <3
-x-
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: pregnancy
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
It’s late when he gets home. 
He feels the tension in his shoulders start to ease the moment he steps over the threshold into the house, the sense of home washing over him as he closes the door behind him, locking out anything other than his family on the other side. 
He pauses as he turns from the door when he hears the low hum of the television. He checks his watch and frowns when he realises just how late it is, surprised that anyone is still awake. He walks towards the living room, a purpose in his step, and as he gets closer he realises it’s one of his wife’s favourite reality TV shows, something she’d sworn him to secrecy over when they first started dating. He half expects to find Emily asleep on the couch, slumped over with her hand pressed against her stomach after she’d lost the battle against sleep to stay up for him, but instead when he walks in she’d wide awake, her focus torn from the TV as he enters the room. 
“Hi honey,” she says, sitting up a little straighter when he walks over, one of her hands on her baby bump as she kisses him before he joins her on the couch, slipping under her legs as she raises them just enough for him to sit, “You made good time.” 
“Traffic wasn’t bad,” he replies, squeezing her foot, smiling softly when she groans in pleasure, “You didn’t have to wait up.” 
She shrugs like it’s nothing, like she wasn’t just shy of 8 months pregnant and constantly exhausted, “It’s okay, I wanted to see you.” 
He frowns, seeds of concern planting deep in his chest, her tone of voice, the way she was holding herself tightly, both of her hands on her bump as she absentmindedly drew patterns on it. 
“You’re tired. I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just gone to bed, I’ll be here in the morning anyway.”
She scoffs, unable to stop herself, hormones, exhaustion and irritation she knows he doesn’t deserve swirling in her gut, “Yeah, if you didn’t get called away for a case.” 
His concern for her immediately gets worse, the flowers of it taking up all the space in his chest, burning against his lungs as she tries to figure out what is wrong. She’d been okay when they spoke earlier, relieved even when he told her that they were about to fly home. It’s a flash of his past life, a momentary collision of his marriage to Haley forcing its way into his marriage to Emily. 
She’d never had an issue with his job, with their job, and she understood the unpredictable nature of it. Things had been different lately since she’d stopped going on cases with the team, he knew that, and he knew she missed being a part of it. 
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 
She blows out a breath, embarrassment at her outburst colouring her cheeks, and she shakes her head, “Nothing. Sorry, I think I’m just hormonal,” she flashes a tight smile at him, “Your kid is ruining me.” 
He squeezes her foot again to get her attention after her failed attempt to deflect, his face nothing but kind as he looks expectantly at her, their promise to never lie to each other on the tip of his tongue, “Em…”
She looks down at her bump and clenches her teeth, desperately trying to stave off the tears she can feel pressing at the back of her eyes. Pregnancy had left her on a razor's edge, everything sharp and making her prone to breaking down at the tiniest thing. It was driving her crazy, irritation at herself that only ever seemed to make things worse, her head swimming with emotion she was trying and failing to push down. 
“I…” she says, clearing her throat when her voice wavers, shaking her head at herself as she chuckles humourlessly, removing a hand from her bump to wipe tears from her cheek, “I just miss you,” she says, wiping away another tear. She shrugs as she avoids eye contact with him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t understand, her love for him overwhelming even after all this time. “That’s all.” 
“Em,” he says softly, moving closer to place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently as she looks up at him, his smile gentle as their eyes meet, “I’m right here.” 
She blows out a breath and rubs her hand over her belly as she feels the baby move, a constant reminder these days that she isn’t alone. She’d spent so much of her life chasing something exactly like this - a family to call her own. She had Aaron and Jack and the baby and she always would. 
She’d never be alone again. 
“I know. I think it’s because you’re going on cases and I’m not. I miss spending time just the two of us - which we never got a whole lot of anyway,” she smiles, an edge of sadness mixed in with the happiness as she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach where the baby is kicking, “And we’re about to have even less of it.” 
She’d stopped going on cases earlier than she’d originally intended. Pregnancy had been much harder on her than she’d anticipated, the nausea in the first trimester giving way almost immediately to exhaustion when it faded away. She’d wanted to carry on, content to sit in precincts and work on victimology because it made her feel useful, like she was still contributing to the team, but Aaron and her doctor convinced her it was time to stay home just as she turned 6 months pregnant. She hated that they were right, that she felt better for it, and she mostly hated that it meant she saw less of her husband than she was used to. 
Since the start of their relationship, they’d spent practically all of their time together. It was clear from their first date that they were it for each other, a type of pull she knew she’d never felt before, her love for him overwhelming from even before their first kiss. They spent all their spare time together, she slept at his most nights - content to hang out with him and Jack until the little boy went to bed and then they’d get some time alone. Despite initially saying they wouldn’t, they snuck into each other’s rooms on cases before they told the team about their relationship. They were both aware that they slept better with the other there, a type of peace neither of them thought they’d ever experience again. 
She missed him. Their bed felt bare without him, their choice of buying a super king even though they snuggled, more than half the bed empty even with them both in it, feeling all the more absurd when it was just her and her pregnancy pillow in it. Occasionally Jack would sneak in and join her, his small hands on her face as he woke her to tell her he’d had a bad dream. She’d feel guilty by feeling relieved when she had him there with her, the little boy she loved as her own pressed up against her whilst her baby shifted under her skin. 
Aaron smiles softly at her, rubbing his hand on her bump for a moment longer before he links their fingers together and lifts their joint hands to his mouth. He presses a delicate kiss to her knuckles and it gets her attention, her eyes meet his again, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear. 
“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “I miss you too.” 
Even though it was almost six weeks since she stopped going away on cases he still found himself looking for her, his eyes flitting around a room she wasn’t in to look for her reassurance, for the love she always freely gave him. He missed having her there, her smile sometimes the only good thing that would happen to him on a hard day at work. He found it difficult to sleep in hotel beds that she wasn’t in with him, her weight against his chest, her breath skipping across his neck as she slept, both as essential to him for a good night's sleep as a dark room and a decent mattress. 
She was his safety net. His port in a storm. And whilst he was excited for this next step in their life, close to desperate sometimes to meet their baby, to see the face he’d imagined for months, he knew he’d miss this stage. 
She smiles sadly at him and stamps a kiss against his lips before she rests her head on his shoulder, “Sorry I kind of ruined the mood the moment you got home.” 
“You could never ruin the mood,” he assures her, turning his head to kiss her temple. He tugs her in closer, a tightness in his chest that had been there for days easing now she was in his arms, and he feels an idea start to form, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls back to look at her, “Why don’t we go somewhere? Just the two of us.”
She hums, her eyebrows knitting together as she looks him up and down, “What? Like a babymoon?” 
He frowns, tilting his head as their eyes meet, confusion painted across his face in a way that she finds nothing short of adorable, “What the hell is a babymoon?” 
She chuckles and runs her fingers through his hair, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to tamper down her amusement, “It’s a trip you go on before the baby comes. Pen was telling me about them.” 
He smiles and nods, “Then yes, exactly like a babymoon,” he says, not missing how her smile gets wider as he says it, “We could go to Virginia Beach. Get a rental right near the water. Spend some time just you and me before this little one joins us and life gets a lot busier.” 
She wants to do it more than anything, wants to spend some uninterrupted time away with him, something they hadn’t done since their honeymoon almost 8 months ago, but she sighs, the reality of their lives causing anxiety to spike in her chest. 
“What about work? We’re both taking some time off when the baby comes, I don’t want it to be a problem.”  
Aaron squeezes her hand reassuringly, “Em, we both have enough leave days banked to take a year off if we wanted to,” he says, smiling when she nods, “If you want to do this we’ll do it. I’ll book us a place to stay tonight.” 
She doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t have to mull it over anymore and she nods, kissing him fiercely as she leans in. 
“Yes,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls away, “I want to go away with you,” her words disappear into a laugh as he pulls her in for a hug, her bump pressed up against his side, as he kisses her temple. She sinks into it, into him and wraps her arms around him, her cheek against his shoulder as she sighs, a relaxed feeling washing over her for the first time in weeks, “If you think about it, it’s perfect timing.” 
He furrows his brow as he pulls back to look at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes as she tries to suppress a smile, a hint of mischievousness in it that never fails to make his stomach swoop, “What do you mean, sweetheart?” 
Her smile only gets wider, “Well you got me pregnant on our honeymoon,” she says, shrugging playfully, “It seems like a nice way to bookend the pregnancy.” 
“Em.”
___
He knows they’ve made the right decision the moment they get to their vacation rental. 
She’s instantly more relaxed than she has been in weeks, a softness to her smile that makes him want to call up the owner of the beach house and offer to buy it off of him. 
“I can help with the bags you know,” she says, her eyebrow raised at him as he gets their bags out of the trunk of their car, her pregnancy pillow tucked under his arm as he shuffles towards the stairs leading up to the house. 
“I’ve got it,” he says, ignoring the strain in his back as he makes it up the stairs, smiling at her when she rolls her eyes. He sets down the cases and crouches down to press a kiss to her bump, “You’re already carrying the most important cargo.” 
She chuckles wryly and runs her fingers through his hair, fighting a smile as he kisses her bump again, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking his head as he straightens back up, her gaze drifting to where her pillow was still tucked under his arm, “If you drop my pregnancy pillow I’ll kill you, and we both know I’d be able to - even if I am the most pregnant person to ever exist.” 
He clears his throat, well aware that whilst her threat was playful she’d be mad if she thought he was laughing at her.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again before he digs through his pockets for the key to the house. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, his hand splayed on her lower back as he guides her in, “Why don’t you look around, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get everything in from the car. The owner said his wife would leave lemonade and homemade cookies.”
Her eyes light up and she looks down at her stomach, already walking into the house before she replies, her focus on their unborn child, “Did you hear that, baby? Cookies!” 
When he’s done bringing in their things, the suitcases carried up to the bedroom and her pillow diligently placed on her side of the bed, he finds her on the back porch sitting in the swing, her gaze fixed on the ocean and the seemingly unending horizon. She turns to look at him as he steps out, her smile wry as he unfolds a blanket as he joins her, laying it over both of their laps, making sure her bump is covered, when he sits down. 
“It’s not even cold out,” she says, wrapping both her arms around one of his, her hand squeezing gently at his tricep as she lays her head against his shoulder. 
“I know,” he replies, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “But I’ve got to look after the two of you,” he adds, placing his hand on her bump, smiling at the movement of the baby, something that got no less amazing no matter how often he felt it, “So,” he says, kissing Emily’s forehead before he pulls back to look at her, “We have four days to do whatever we want.” 
She hums and tilts her head to look up at him, the reality of being here with him, the next few days stretched out ahead of them washing over her, “I’d like to say we could have a crazy amount of sex and barely leave the house,” she laments, “But I think all I want to do is nap, eat and sit right here with you.” 
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he assures her, resting his hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline, “As long as I’m with you I don’t mind what we do,” he says, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, “And, I have it under good authority that a restaurant just down the street has to die for mac and cheese and they deliver.”
She moans, the sound turning into a delighted laugh as she closes her eyes, “You really know what a pregnant woman loves to hear.” 
He hums, kissing her forehead before he lets his hand fall back to her bump, “Maybe I just really know my wife.” 
She can’t explain the feeling that swells in her chest, threatening to pull her under as tears press at the back of her eyes. It was moments like this, moments when it was just him and her and their love for each other when she let herself feel the happiness she never thought she’d get, let herself bask in it. 
She wasn’t lucky, this hadn’t fallen into her lap. She’d fought for this. Fought to get here and sometimes she’d lost, tripped and fell as the battle seemed too much, but she’d made it here. Made it to him, and he’d done the same to make it to her. They’d endured so much apart, but she knew whatever came next, the good and the bad, they’d face together. 
She cups his cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth over his skin, “You’re the love of my life, you know,” she says, her cheeks warm with love and a hint of embarrassment, “I can’t imagine wanting to do any of this with anyone else.” 
“You’re the love of my life too,”  he says, and he places his hand over hers on his cheek and leans in to kiss her, “I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else either,” he says, frowning at himself when he says it, realising it sounds clumsy because he had done it with someone else. 
A shaky breath escapes him, her admission not new but unexpected in the moment, their conversation about her favourite pregnancy food suddenly turning into more. He loved her so much it hurt sometimes. It was different to how he’d loved Haley. They’d grown up together, had initially grown together and then apart, both of them still in love with a version of themselves that no longer existed. He and Emily loved each other for who they were, for what they’d gone through, and he knew he’d have it for the rest of his life. 
He sighs at himself and shakes his head, “I mean-”
“I know what you mean,” she says softly, cutting him off as she presses her thumb into his lower lip, “I’m glad we came here.” 
He rests his forehead against hers, “Me too.” 
They sit there for a few moments in silence, the only sound the waves crashing against the shore in the background. The moment comes to an end when her stomach audibly makes a noise that makes them both laugh, the baby almost moving in tandem. 
“I think baby wants some of that mac and cheese,” she says, leaning into his palm when he wipes away a stray tear that had escaped her lashline. 
He chuckles, pressing a kiss against her lips before he kisses her bump. He stands up to find the stack of take-out menus the owner had left out, but she stops him, her hand tight around his as if she didn’t want him to go, “I’ll be right back.” 
She sighs and relents, letting go of him before she winks at him, “Make sure to bring me some of those cookies on your way back.” 
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he says as he steps back into the house, “Absolutely anything.” 
-x-
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