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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

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As Our Fingers Entwine

The end of the trilogy!!! I hope you all enjoy, both newcomers and those who have been eagerly anticipating this piece! It is in fact NSFW, appropriate tags below. Read it on AO3 here!

TRIGUN STAMPEDE EPISODE 7 SPOILERS IN FIC BELOW!

Vash/Reader, 6,000+ Words, AFAB Reader but no specific pronouns used, mutual pining, body worship, frottage, vaginal sex, alien biology, praise kink, enthusiastic consent, begging

You couldn't say for certain why the ambience of the peaceful town didn't lull you to sleep the same way the rattling underbelly of the Sand Steamer seemed to, but you had a distinct feeling it was because you weren't right next to Vash.

You'd never admit it aloud, mainly for fear of revealing your painfully obvious affections for your blond companion, but nowadays you always slept better with Vash by your side. And as happy as Vash seemed to have a room to himself and time to catch his breath, a selfish little part of you had hoped he'd be cheap again, crowd the two of you into a single room to save a few double dollars. The last time you truly got to sleep side-by-side with him was a few bumpy hours on the Sand Steamer, before the incident with the Bad Lads and the shootout and the, well, the entire steamer nearly catastrophically crashing to pieces. There wasn't much sleeping on the bus ride into town either, no matter how exhausted the both of you were.

And yet, when you collapsed face-first into the surprisingly comfy hotel bed, you found yourself agonizingly conscious. Somehow, a simple wall in between you and Vash was enough to keep you from getting a good night's sleep. Just when did you become so dependent? Now three nights have passed, each one spent tossing and turning, unable to get more than a few blissful moments of shuteye. It wasn't like you were scared, or even stressed! Your body had just acclimated to the idea of sleeping curled up next to Vash, and now without him…

"Hey, anybody home in there?"

"...Hmm? Oh! Oh, yeah, I'm listening." You hadn't realized you'd started to doze off at the diner table over your supper until Vash leaned over and snapped his fingers in front of your face. You jolted up, grabbing a wedge of your sandwich and jamming it quickly into your mouth as he gave you a soft and sympathetic smile, his salmon sandwich basically finished and his free hand twiddling a stray french fry back and forth across the plate. Ah, he must have been waiting for you.

"You're a little out of it today. Everything alright?"

You waved him off, taking a swig of water to force down the mouthful of bread and various fillings. "It's fine! Just not sleeping well, it's no big deal."

Your response didn't seem to soothe Vash's worries at all, as his little smile fell into a frown. "That's no good. Is everything alright? You don't feel unsafe or anything, do you?"

"Nonono, nothing like that, really!" His concern really shouldn't have been enough to fluster you, Vash would have been worried for just about anyone who looked as worn-out as you did. But it still hit a soft little spot in you, something eternally sensitive to Vash's care and attention that you had to do your absolute best to stifle basically every moment of every day. "It's just too quiet, you know? I'm not used to having a room to myself anymore, heh. Pretty silly, isn't it?"

Judging by the soft and further furrowing of Vash's brow, your placations did nothing to assuage his concern. "Is there anything I can do? To help, I mean."

Stay. Stay with me, always.

Yeah, right. Like you could actually say that out loud. You sunk further into your seat, feeling a bit like an insect under a magnifying glass in the face of his consideration. It felt as if one wrong word or move would suddenly and jarringly expose the affections you held for him that seemed so glaringly obvious at all times, always.

"I dunno. It's not a big deal, anyway. We don't have to worry about it."

He seemed to sense your own discomfort with the subject matter, and leaned gently back in his seat. "I saw there was a tailor in this town! If you want you can come with me tomorrow, maybe get that tear in your cloak patched up?"

You thumbed the rugged fabric edge in your hand, almost not wanting to. Vash had patched it for you last time, and though the job was a touch on the rough side you didn't exactly like the idea of someone undoing his heartfelt, albeit clumsy, stitchwork. But shopping with Vash? That definitely sounded like how you wanted to spend your afternoon.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Anywhere you wanna stop by?"

"Might pick up some ammo, but not much besides that!"

And you were certain that would be the end of it. Even after thumbing out a few double-dollars to pay for dinner, opening the diner door for you with a cartoonish bow, and chatting idly as the two of you made your way back towards the hotel, Vash didn’t broach the subject again. By the time you’d made it to the door of your room you were certain he’d forgotten about it. But just as you were about to wish him goodnight and slip through the crack of the doorway his hand came to rest upon the door handle, that familiar soft expression of concern sneaking back up across his face.

“If you wanted… I could stay until you fall asleep?" There was a distinct shyness about it, like he was genuinely afraid of what your reaction may be. "Just to see if it would help?"

You blinked at him once, twice, needing a moment to process the words he was saying before it actually clicked in your mind. Face growing hot, you prayed your expression didn't fully give away your embarrassment as an image wormed itself into your brain, an image of yourself in Vash's arms, his lips resting on the jut of your collarbone peeking from the hem of your shirt, of warm hands on the soft dip of your hips climbing higher, and higher…

Seeming to take your extended silence as rejection, or worse, disgust, Vash began to frantically backpedal, hand flying from the doorknob to tangle in the soft hair at the base of his neck. "You can say no! I just wanted to offer. Maybe that was a little weird, huh? Sorry, you can forget about it.”

But you didn't want to forget. Forgetting meant a return to… To whatever you and Vash were before that first night you woke up and saw him gazing at the stars. Forgetting meant pulling away again, faking a smile, pretending there was nothing there when you so desperately wanted there to be. Forgetting meant not acknowledging that he kept offering his hand to you, and that out of your own foolish anxieties you kept drawing away.

And yeah, maybe things could still go catastrophically wrong. But wasn't that what you loved about Vash in the first place? How the entire world could fall apart around him and he'd still get up again, offer you a smile and put his best foot forward?

You loved him. You loved him. And you were fucking sick of pretending you didn't. Your fingertips had closed around the fabric of his sleeve before you could second-guess yourself.

"Stay with me."

And oh, oh, if the expression that crawled its way up Vash's face wasn't worth any and every possible humiliation, rejection, or vague discomfort. Red bloomed up from his collar, creeping up his neck into his cheeks and the tops of his ears. He blinked twice behind his oversized lenses, gaze flicking from your face to where you'd gripped his sleeve and back again a few times over. A thin, wobbly smile snuck across his lips, making his relief obvious despite his conscious efforts to hide it. A peek of sharp canines glinted from the gap as he shot you a crooked, sheepish grin, despite being nearly as red in the face as his signature coat.

"Y-Yeah!" He winced at the way his own voice cracked, oblivious to just how endearing you found it. "Yeah, heh, no problem! Let me, let me get my… I'll be right back. Five minutes? Give me five minutes, pinkie promise."

He even interlocked his pinkie with your own, a small, familiar laugh sneaking out before he slipped, momentarily, from your grasp. You watched as he stumbled down the hall to his own room, fumbled the door handle once, twice, banging his body into the wooden frame before managing to get it open, never once taking his eyes off you until the door slipped closed. Cute.

You stepped into your own room, clicking on the bedside lamp and flooding it in a warm, yellowed glow. Shedding your day clothes as quickly as possible, you kicked them into a heap in the corner and scrambled into your pajamas, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Without Vash's buzzing, eager energy at your side you had just enough time before he returned to briefly feel incredibly embarrassed at your show of need, face growing hot as you replayed the little scene over and over in your mind. Your hand around his sleeve, his expressions, your choice of words… God, you were so obvious. Had he really not picked up on it at all? But he seemed so eager, as eager as you were at the very least. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had been a little oblivious lately.

True to his word, it couldn't have been more than five minutes before you heard a soft knock on the door to your room. Standing on the other side was Vash, not clad in his signature red jacket but rather his familiar, beige pajamas. The worn out shirt hung loose around the collar with the sleeves draping just long enough to cover half of his hands, the loose elastic of the sweatpants held tight with an old, white drawstring. His hair was floppy and now shower-damp, hanging partially in his face as he gave you that so soft, so sweet little smile.

"You look comfy." He said, voice as soft as his grin.

"I could say the same for you." You responded, cracking a similar smile. Stepping to the side you let him join you in your room, door closing with a soft click as a palpable air of… something simmered between you two. Tension? Nervousness? It felt like a melting pot of just about everything you had or could feel when it came to Vash. He stood awkwardly in the center of the room as you flitted around him towards the bed.

"You should probably get some rest, huh? I'll just grab a seat at…" He gestured vaguely towards one of the two chairs set at the table by the window, words dropping from his lips as he watched you pat the open space in the bed next to you. He blinked again, face flushing pink once more.

"...Only if you want to." You added softly. He visibly swallowed, nodding so gently you could have almost missed it, and set his glasses on the nightstand with a soft clack. Carefully, hesitantly, he pulled back the covers and let himself into the bed beside you, moving like he was afraid at any moment you were going to change your mind and ask him to leave.

You would never. You wanted him beside you. At all times, always.

He clicked off the lamp, and the two of you were plunged into darkness. A single stream of moonlight filtered between the thin curtains, falling diagonally across the bedroom floor and providing just enough light for you to keep Vash's face in view. When the two of you shared a sleeping bag for the first time the closeness was a necessity, there was nowhere else for you to go in the tiny shared space. But even now, with the width of the bed slim but still far greater than a sleeping bag could provide, you couldn't help but press yourself close to him. As always he was warm, so warm, heat radiating under the thin covers to soothe you, a constant thrum of energy just beneath his skin even when he was relaxed and doe-eyed as he was with you right now, laying on his side mirroring you, unable to look away.

In this moment you couldn't help but consider that Vash was more alive than you had ever been in your own lifetime, or that you ever would be. He was a walking enigma, incredibly powerful yet so gentle, capable of such inhuman feats but so intimately, painfully fragile. Maybe you'd never fully understand him the way you wanted to, maybe there would always be secrets he couldn't share or stories he wouldn't tell. But you didn't mind, not as long as he was yours and you were his.

"Hi." He murmured, breath hot against your lips, that small, sappy smile never leaving his own.

"Hi." You replied. "Is this… Is this okay?"

"Yes." There was a relief in his voice, a borderline reverence. His hand hovered, briefly, coming to rest on the small of your hip and sending a jolt of need crawling up your spine fast enough to give you a headrush. "Are we… okay?"

"Always."

He let out a low, shuddering breath, hand flexing around your hip. "I haven't… I want… I want…" His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. He let out another breath, a short, warm huff as he hesitated, brow knit like even now he was afraid of the oncoming rejection, the inevitable hurt.

The two of you really had been completely oblivious, hadn't you?

You closed the gap yourself. Slowly, carefully, for no more than a few moments, you pressed your lips to his. He gasped when you did, a sharp, surprised inhale through his nose before his entire body seemed to melt into your several points of contact: your legs, his hand on your hip, your lips. You watched his eyes slide open again after you pulled away, crease in his brow receding as he blinked at you, almost owlishly.

"You kissed me." He murmured, that air of reverence returning to his voice.

"I did." You said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, and that's because it was.

"You'll… You'll always be in danger. You know that, right?"

"I do."

"We're always going to be moving. You wouldn't rather settle down somewhere nice?"

"Not if you're not there."

He sucked in another shaky breath, corners of his eyes growing glassy and wet. "It won't… It won't be easy. Being with me. It's hard."

"Vash." You cupped his face with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I promise you it's not. It's really not."

He positively beamed, knocking his forehead against yours as he burst into quiet giggles. "You're really amazing, you know? You're the most amazing person I've ever met."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Your own laughter joined his, and any hint of apprehension or concern Vash may have still held seemed to melt away in the face of your smile. "Now shush. Kiss me again."

He was clumsy, clearly overeager as he pressed his lips to yours once more. It started as another soft, fluttering thing, then a second, then a third, before you tipped your chin up and opened your mouth into the next kiss, inviting him to do the same. Fingers tangled in his soft hair, you pressed further into him, tasting honey and sunlight as you licked into his open mouth and he moaned against your lips. You didn't even realize he was moving you until you found yourself on your back, Vash's sturdy build boxing you in, knees framing your thighs as his teeth clicked wetly against yours and he groaned again at the feeling of your mouth moving against his. It was a messy, relief-stricken thing, like finding sweet, cool water after a day trekking across the open dunes. His still-flesh hand gripped your hip, fingertips indenting your soft skin, but his prosthetic hand cradled your cheek so gently, with such veneration it could have brought you to tears. There was a wet smack and a sharp gasp when he finally pulled away, like he was coming up for air. A single sticky strand of saliva still connected your lips, and as you swiped it off of his lower lip with a smile he gave you a sheepish grin in return.

"You gotta breathe through your nose, Vash."

"I know, I just…" He watches as you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking off the smear of spit there. He gulps, teeth worrying his lower lip. "...Just got a bit sidetracked, is all."

When he leaned back in a second time his target wasn't your lips, but the gentle slope of your neck. He placed a featherlight kiss upon you, relaxing when he heard your content hum and your fingers carded through the hairs at the base of his neck. Then he sucked a mark into the soft junction between your neck and exposed collarbone, teeth grazing and tongue lathing over the sensitive spot as you writhed beneath Vash's touch. His breath ghosted hotly over your neck, goosebumps prickling out across your skin as heat pooled low and eager in your stomach and you fisted one hand in the front of Vash's night shirt.

"Vash." You whined, and his low groan in response rumbled out against your already sensitive neck. "Vash." You moaned again, louder this time, needy but not completely sure what for.

"Hmm?" His questioning hum was barely discernible from his soft, pleased groans, only the uptick at the end of the throaty sound cluing you in that Vash had even heard you at all. His lips rested on the curve of your jaw, thumb trailing back and forth across your cheekbone. You fisted the back of his shirt in one hand and tangled the other in his messy hair, whimpering at each barely-there kiss he left as he trailed his way up your jawbone to your ear. "You're so soft. So, so soft."

His lips brushed the shell of your ear and you couldn't help yourself, whining as your hips jerked up against his. His breath stuttered and he jolted back from you to blink with wide, shocked eyes. Immediately a hot flush of shame coursed through your body, searing behind your eyes and cheeks. Was he disappointed? Disgusted?

"I'm so sorry." If you could shrink back and disappear you would, but it's not like there was anywhere for you to go. Vash's brow furrowed again for a moment before his eyes blew wide once more, immediately taking your face in both hands as gently as he could.

"No, no it's alright! There's nothing wrong you just- just surprised me a little! That's not bad! I just- Aw jeez." He pressed a kiss to your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. "Please don't cry. I promise I'm not upset or anything, so don't cry, okay?"

"I'm not gonna cry! I'm just… embarrassed." You mumbled between squished cheeks, eyes trained down and away from Vash's sympathetic smile.

“There’s no need to be.”

“I know that.” You whined, covering your eyes with the palm of your hand. You felt another fluttering kiss on the tip of your nose, and peeked through your fingers to find Vash beaming at you. There was a cautious apprehension behind his eyes now though, a similar fear to what you knew you were currently feeling.

“There is, uh, something I have to tell you though.” He fidgeted a little, not quite meeting your gaze. “It’s just that my body is kinda… Well, it’s a little… different? And I don’t want to freak you out or anything. But if you do freak out… That’s probably completely valid, I’ll be honest.”

“Vash, I’ve seen your scars before. You know I don’t mind, right?”

He winced a little, lower lip jutting out in a bit of a pout. “...That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s a… It’s a PLANT thing.”

“Oh.” As Vash sat back on your thighs you propped yourself up a bit to meet his gaze. “Well, that’s alright too. I won’t judge you for anything you can’t control, Vash.”

“Yeah but it’s… It’s pretty out there.”

“Try me.”

Vash opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it, then shut it again, blush crawling its way up his cheeks with his fisted hands tucked into his lap. He twiddled his thumbs, worried his lower lip with his sharp teeth, and still failed to meet your gaze.

"It's, uh, it's just that it's a bit… different. My, uh… y'know?"

You'd been pretty oblivious to Vash's affections for you, but that didn't mean you were stupid. The way his gaze flickered down and then back up again when he spoke? The way one hand fisted the fabric of his pants and the other remained firmly tucked between his thighs, not quite against his crotch but definitely blocking it from your view? You could at least put those puzzle pieces together.

You rubbed the top of his knee with your hand, and tension seemed to melt from his stance with your touch alone.

"Would you… be willing to show me?"

He grimaced a bit, continuing to nibble on his lower lip until you ran the thumb of your other hand across it, trying to soothe the reddened skin. "I just don't want to freak you out or anything, is all."

"You really think at this point there's anything you could do or say to freak me out?" You bumped your forehead against his, the same way he had for you just moments ago. "Hate to break it to you, but you're kind of stuck with me now." He barked out a laugh, saying nothing but finally meeting your gaze, so you continued. "I don't want you to feel like you have to make yourself uncomfortable for my sake, but I also don't want you to run away from me. You trust me, right?"

"I do."

"Then trust that I won't run away either. I promise. I just want you, Vash, that's all."

He sucked in a shuddering breath, nodding softly against you. "Yeah. I want you too." Looking up at you through his eyelashes, he flashed you a cartoonish pout. "Maybe if someone gave me another kiss I'd get a bit braver?"

"You dork." You giggled, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him breathless once more. He leaned into you again, mouth open and eager, finally letting his hands trail back up your body where you'd wanted them. "Wait, switch with me."

"Hrmm? Whoa!" You wrestled Vash to the side, rolling the two of you over until you were now the one straddling his hips, not the other way around. He blinked up at you, mouth agape and lips slightly slick as he took in your form in the pale moonlight. "Oh. I could get used to a view like this."

With a single, sudden twist upwards of your arms, you pulled off your shirt and let it fall somewhere off the side of the bed, baring your chest to him fully. Vash gasped, hands squeezing against your soft sides as his gaze raked over your form.

"This one too…" He murmured. Trailing your fingertips down the length of his chest, you fiddled with the hem at the bottom of his shirt, lifting a bit but not quite tugging.

"This okay?"

He nodded, hands joining yours to help wrestle his shirt off over his head. Immediately you were upon him, a featherlight trail of lips and fingertips upon every inch of scarred skin, tracing the outline of the metal reinforcement over his left pectoral as gently as you could. Your thighs squeezed around his hips, the front of his loose pajama pants tented and straining where they met your clothed core. He was big, that much was obvious. Another roll of your hips, not accidental this time but intentional, left Vash gasping out a sharp, labored wheeze as his hips finally jerked forward against yours.

"Sensitive." He panted, shuddering helplessly as his hips stuttered forward again. "C-Careful, it's sensitive."

That sensitive, with several layers of clothes still between you? Now you were getting really curious. You rolled your hips again, friction sparking pleasure up your spine but it was nothing compared to the way Vash positively mewled, back arching and hips rutting erratically to meet you. A dark, damp spot was beginning to seep through the fabric at the tip. You cupped his clothed length with your hand as gently as you could. 'Sensitive.' You reminded yourself. But a bolt of surprise rocketed through you instead when you could swear that, just for a moment, you felt his cock squirm against you, pressing up into your hand without the aid of his hips.

"Please don't freak out." Vash wheezed. You squeezed his length again, pressing in firmly, but it was impossible to tell what writhing was from Vash squirming around and what came from, well, Vash squirming around.

"I'm not freaking out." You reassured him, and in all honesty you weren't. Were you surprised? Of course! But there wasn't really anything about Vash that could truly "freak you out" anymore, even this. You stroked his length through the fabric once more and watched that wet spot at the tip bloom farther and darker, Vash shivering like he'd just touched a live wire. "Is it okay to take these off? Only if you're okay with it."

You hooked a finger into the waistband and waited, Vash's gaze laser focused in on your hand. Slowly, carefully, he nodded. Fingers looped in the elastic of both his pajama pants and his boxers, you gave him plenty of time to change his mind as you tugged them down, Vash letting out a quiet, hitched gasp when his cock sprung free.

Well, Vash certainly wasn't lying about it being different. Arching upwards from between his legs was what you could only describe as a tentacle, thick base sprouting from slick folds at the apex of his thighs. It curled upwards towards his belly and tapered slim at the tip, beading semi-translucent liquid that dribbled down the length of the shaft. It wasn't the same shade as his skin; It was closer to a bluish-white, marked up the length with abstract patterning similar to the glyphs on the outside bulb of a PLANT. Vaguely you wondered if it was always out like this, or if it settled itself snugly within those wet, petal pink folds when he wasn't aroused. You had to think it did, if Vash was as sensitive as he made himself out to be, otherwise he'd be on the verge of cumming with each step he took.

On second thought, that wasn't a bad image either.

Vash gulped, squirming a bit under your gaze, knees pulling together but unable to close fully with your body in the way. "So, uh, you're not screaming. I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a good sign!" You smoothed a hand up the length of his thigh, pausing right at the junction of his hip, and his cock twitched towards you subconsciously like a writhing tendril. He seemed to shrink in on himself a little at this, shoulders pulling up towards his ears as he anticipated your reaction.

"Vash, God Vash… Do you even have any idea how pretty you are?" He had to know, you couldn't let him wake up tomorrow and just bumble around for the rest of his life not knowing. He was ethereal, scarred skin painted in hues of blush pink, cheeks burning, eyes soft and wide… He had to be a PLANT, because it just wasn't feasible for a normal human to be this achingly beautiful. "You're so, so pretty Vash."

"Oh." His breathing shuddered, hips twitching when you squeezed down on the fat of his thigh.

"Sensitive, right? I'll be careful, just tell me if it's too much, okay?" Fingertips trailing off the junction of his hip, you finally, finally, closed your palm around his length. It was hot, slick to the touch everywhere you put your fingers on it, and you could swear for just a moment that those glyphs pulsed with a faint blue-white light as Vash whimpered. "This is okay?"

He nodded furiously, hands fisting the bed sheets as he all but gasped for air. "Good! It's good. I haven't, it's been a long time since I- ohhh please…" Another bead of thick, slippery pre-cum drooled from the tip, slicking your palm as you moved it so slowly up the length of his cock, squeezing slightly on the downstroke and making Vash's back go concave against the mattress as he moaned. Heat burned low in your core, and you wrestled a hand down the front of your pajama pants to stroke your own slick folds directly. You couldn't help but picture how the silky writhing of his cock would feel inside of your pussy, slick oozing around where your bodies would meet as it pushed upwards into your aching core…

"Me too…" Vash groaned, hand grabbing for the waistband of your pants as he struggled to sit up. "Lemme touch you too, please." You stumbled off the bed for only a moment, but it was still far enough to make Vash whine at your lack of contact. Slick from Vash's cock smeared across the fabric as you wrestled both the pants and your underwear onto the floor before crawling back into Vash's lap like you couldn't stand to be away from him for another moment. His hands found your hips the moment you were within reach, rubbing soothingly up and down the outer curve of your thighs as he stared down at you, eyes swirling with arousal and adoration.

"Beautiful." He murmured, pressing his lips once more against the curve of your neck. "Tell me what you like, tell me how I can make you feel good."

Hand around his wrist, you guided him to the dark patch of hair between your legs. His fingers crooked carefully, curiously, two fingertips swiping upwards through your wet folds and catching over your clit. He shuddered when you moaned, the very act of giving you pleasure seeming to do him the same. Finding your clit again, he rubbed over it with his fingertips in slow, almost soothing circles.

"That's good." You cooed, taking him in hand again. "You're so good for me, Vash, such a good boy."

"Yes!" He moaned, his metal hand coming around to grip your ass, urging you to roll your hips against his hand. "Yes, 'm good, I'm so good." Sharp teeth dragged over your collarbone, just hard enough to send a prickle of pleasure up your spine. As you began to rock your hips he pressed his hand further in, letting you grind your clit against the heel of his palm as he slid his middle finger into your entrance. The intrusion was slick, effortless, and you couldn't help but moan as he curled his finger against your soft, hot walls. You pumped him again, another thick glob of pre-cum dribbling over your fingers as his cock wriggled in your grasp. "You feel so good inside." He continued to babble, drooling against your neck as he whined and gasped. "Wanna… wanna feel you, so bad…"

"Yeah?" You purred, shifting your hips further up his. With how keyed up you were you doubted you'd even be able to last more than a thrust or two with Vash inside you, but still you wanted. Nudging his hand out from between your legs, you shifted your hips down to trap his cock in between your pussy and his tense stomach as you rolled your hips and let it slip messily back and forth between your folds. Vash positively howled, head tossed back against the pillows as his other hand came around to grip your ass as well.

"Yes! Yes, please, oh please wanna make you feel so good." Shifting your hips to align his tip with your entrance, he peppered wet kisses across your neck and up your cheek as you hovered over him. You tipped your head to catch his lips with your own, moaning into his eager mouth as you finally let him nudge into you. Euphoria crackled up your spine with each small movement, an almost unbearable heat between the two of you as he shifted you so gently down his slick cock. It was almost effortless the way he slid inside, your combined wetness leaving no room for pain around the incredible pleasure as he stuffed you full, coiling and massaging your walls as you finally found your thighs resting on his and your lungs gasping for air.

"Oh, oh Vash." He shuddered at the sound of your name leaving his lips, hips snapping forward and once again driving the breath out of you as white-hot pleasure exploded behind your eyelids.

"Sorry, 'm sorry, not gonna last. Gotta make you cum, fuck, please cum for me…" His chest pressed to yours and his face pressed into the curve of your jaw, his hips thrust forward again, and again, wriggling one hand in between your sweaty bodies to thumb eagerly at your clit, rolling the swollen bud beneath the pad. You wailed, pleasure prickling tears at the corners of your eyes as your stomach coiled tighter, pushed you higher.

A sharp blossom of pain erupted from the crook of your neck, making you cry out as Vash growled against your skin. His sharp canines dug into your sensitive flesh, bruising the soft skin there and blooming pain and pleasure into a swirling cocktail of overwhelming sensation. You dug your nails hard into the flesh of his back, shivering helplessly in his grip. The desert had been cruel, and crueler still had been its people, but you would make sure that any marks you left on Vash would be ones he wasn't ashamed to show, to feel.

"Love you." You sobbed, bleary-eyed and desperate for release, babbling similar nonsense to Vash as you tumbled into pleasure-drunk ecstasy. "Love you, I love you I love you Vash!"

He wailed, teeth pressing further into your soft neck, hips stuttering forward once, twice more before he finally shuddered, pouring his load into your awaiting core. Molten heat flooded your pussy, sending you tumbling into your own release. Rapture flooded your senses, writhing in Vash's hold as waves of pleasure overtook you, walls fluttering helplessly around his length again, and again, and again. He was spilling so much into you, you could feel it pooling out around where the two of you were joined, slicking his thighs and inevitably staining the sheets below. Even as your own orgasm began to subside, little aftershocks of pleasure sparking in your mind, he was still spilling more into your fluttering heat.

"I love you." He sobbed into your neck, drool and tears dampening your skin as he clutched you tight, so tight. "Love you so much." His tongue lathed over the bruise his teeth had left behind, a silent apology for daring to leave a single mark upon your body. With a final, shaky thrust of his hips, he seemed to spill the last of his cum into you, muscles relaxing with a stifled groan. You curled a hand in the hair at the base of his neck, pressing a kiss to his temple as he nuzzled into you. He whined as his cock seemed to slip from your heat of its own accord, another gush of hot slick spilling from your entrance as it went limp.

"I've got you, baby." You cooed. Slumping gently into his lap and ignoring the sticky-slick feeling cooling between your bodies, you let yourself melt fully into Vash's gentle hold.

"...They're probably gonna charge you extra for cleaning, you know?" He quipped, and you could feel him grimace a little at the tacky feeling between your thighs. "A lot extra."

"I'll take my chances."

He guffawed against your neck, dragging you down to the mattress with him in a sticky heap. You curled into the curve of his body, head resting on his shoulder. His arm immediately rose to curl around you, pulling you tight against his side.

"Mmh, we should probably clean up." You mumbled, eyelids already beginning to flutter.

"...Five minutes?" He rumbled, pressing his nose into the crook of your jaw.

"Mmm… Five minutes."

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #trigun #my writing #long post #alien biology vash

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wonkawinka · 2 months

Text

we’ll meet again

“we’ll meet again… don’t know where, don’t know when..”

alastor x angel!daughter!reader

CHAPTER ONE: don’t look at me like that!

— — CHAPTER TWO: smile like you mean it!

warnings/notes: NOT PROOF READ! blood, murder, guns, wounds, no use of y/n, uses she/her pronouns, reader is on the fem side, here are some things to know first, all the french was google translated i am so sorry hsdhdh

mawmaw- another way to address one’s grandma in the south

ma chére- french for my dear

as-tú mange?- french for have you been eating?

ça va aller - french for it is going to be okay

muffuletta- a sandwich that consists of provolone, olives, cured meat, and bread which originated in new orleans back in the early 1900s!

wc: 2003

————————-

LETTERS. letters turn to words. words turn to sentences. sentences turn to paragraphs. paragraphs turn to essays. essays turn to books.

one swoop in the air and one of the books gets snatched in a blur. the figure flew past the big, gold plaque which read The Records Room, landing softly on the floor of the library. you said gently as the big ol’ eye stared right back at you. heaven was littered with eyes. every crevice, ever corner, every wall of The Court had at least one staring right at you.

“oh, come on, don’t look at me like that.” the girl frowned at it, silently biting back on herself because she was quite literally talking to a book. it was as if the book was telling her to let it go, maybe even begging her to go home. her deer-like ears going against her head as she pondered the idea.

“ugh…” you released the book as it flew away, staring up as it joined its friends in the air— are all the books friends?

you grabbed your messenger bag, dusted your skirt, adjusted the vest, fixed your scarf…

and took a deep breath. today will be a good day, you thought mentally. if today isnt, tomorrow will be.

nodding at passerbyers with a polite smile, you strolled the streets of heaven, tracing your steps as if it was the back of your hand. people spoke your name gently, acknowledging your presence with soft tones.

one called out to you “nice to see you again, dear!” one smile to that woman.

then another “lookin’ good, toots!” another nod to that one man… despite the clear connotation of it.

“ate that up!” that made you nervously smile, not quite understanding the ‘new modern slang’ quite yet. looked like the teenager that recently arrived in heaven— a good person, you add.

you rounded the corner and sighed with relief at the sight of a familiar corner store. mawmaw’s corner. as you took note that the little store was closed, you reached for the secret key that sat in one of the flower pots.

third petunia to the left… ah. you pick it out of the pot and quietly open the door to the restaurant, locking it behind you.

“mawmaw?” you call out gently, not wanting to startle the poor woman. she was washing dishes, as usual, turning as she heard your voice.

she called your name in excitement, “ma chère!,” pulling you in for a hug which you happily accepted. she pinched your cheeks and turned your face from side to side to examine it.

“as-tú mange? you look so tired, sugar. i told ya’ to start watchin’ your health!” she scolds you with a sigh, shaking her head in disapproval, her new orleans accent slipping out as she pinches your cheek. “you youngins, tsk tsk.”

“i know, i know...”

she let go of your ear to turn back to the kitchen, giving you time to rub your cheek and soothe the pain. she quickly whipped up a muffuletta for you, her motherly love engraved into all her cooking.

“wouldve gotten you jambalaya, but people started comin’ left and right for it, dont even know where they comin’ from!” she exclaims with a laugh, brining the food towards you. she went on to talk about her day which you, of course, offered your utmost maximum attention to each word that fell from her mouth. the only thing that filled your ears was the subtle tumble of the air conditioning and the thick new orleans accent leaking from her tone. it was comforting in a nostalgic way. forms of her reminded you of your own father. own father. father. fath—

“oh! happy father’s day by the way!” you say with a slight teasing smile, but it was genuine for the most part. she turned to you with a— well, unamused, and albeit a confused face.

“hunny, i’m a woman.”

“that works her aaaa——,” the older woman cocked her eyebrow at your language choice, “bbbbutt… off every single day even when she’s dead. that’s enough recognition on both father and mother’s day” you say with a smile, finishing the last bits of your food.

“y’know, sugar, sometimes you remin’ me of my son.” she says with a smile. “quite the charmer back in the day, i’ll say!”

“never knew if he had kids, though.” she tried grabbing your plate, offering to wash it, but you declined with a smile, getting up to wash it yourself.

“well… sometimes, you remind me of my father.” you said, “say, what's his name? tell me ‘bout him. who knows, maybe he did have kids.”

the ringing of the water filling your ears as they awaited to hear an answer from the older woman. they twitched in reaction to the noise— it made you think back.

— — — — — 1932.

you walked through the woods quietly, trekking your way quietly to the cabin. home. you skipped in your steps as the delight of finishing your tasks early filled your core. the leaves swayed in the air, whispering untold nothings throughout the night. the gravel under you crunched against your heels as you got closer and closer to your humble abode.

you wouldve kept going. your father always told you to head straight home after your miscellaneous errands were done, especially after dusk. his words ringed in your mind always saying, “its is never safe for a dear like you to be hanging around town at night!”

there was a whisper in the bushes. a quiet one, but it was noticeable. it was enough to halt your steps.

you stood your ground as your eyes pivoted to the greenery. adrenaline started pumping; it removed the glue from your shoes that kept you from approaching the sound. what would be the harm in checking it out, anyway? you were close enough to your house as is.

something grabbed your ankle— shrieking in horror as the hand pulled itself towards you.

a man, bloodied, battered, drenched in his own blood looked up at you in a panic. the metallic stench rung in your nose as you stared down at the man in shock. he looked vaguely familiar— but the bloodied mask over his face barely made him recognizable. a flick away and all the oxygen would stop flowing through his veins. something turned in you. churned. stomach twisting in absolute horror and disgust. your mind told you to run. to scream. to call for help. to do anything but get your hands dirty.

but you couldnt leave the poor man.

you pulled the guy out of the bushes, only to discover a gunshot wound right in his abdomen. it was like some ravage animal was trying to tear him up right there and then. he stared up to you, not talking— hell, he couldnt talk. blood dripped from his mouth like a faucet. he couldnt if he tried.

but eyes always spoke. he didnt need to use his words. he looked grateful in a way. grateful he wasnt alone when he’ll die.

hands bloodied as if you were the one who caused it. his wound pooled out fountains of blood, onto the ground, seeping into your skirt.

“who… did this to you?” you whispered to him, bloodied hands shaking violently in reaction to the sight. he wanted to answer— but he couldnt.

you knew better than that.

you held his hand when he passed— which only took roughly around two minutes. it didnt take long.

you stood up. turned. looked. saw.

a man was looking at you from the woods. it was dark, but nothing could hide that manic smile, cheeks outstretched that it was nearly not human. nearly. he looked at you, eyes boring into your face.

he kept looking at you. it was only a matter of seconds, but to you it felt like hours. days. years. decades passed in those seconds. time ticked. it slowed down in the fastest way possible. it sped up in the slowest way possible.

you wanted him to stop looking at you.

your father— no. your father never looked at you like that. thats not the man who tucked you to sleep. thats not the man who made your favorite pancakes when you were sad. thats not the man who let you sleep with him whenever you had a nightmare. thats not the man who only trusted you when making his coffee every morning. it was unlike him. her father would never—

there was a gun pointed to her.

“dad—?” you whispered, as if he could hear her for the distance they were at.

the trigger popped.

the clock started.

the body jolted violently at the impact. it fell. blood pooled from the area like floods of rose petals bathing the forest floor.

it was a perfect hit. alastor always had perfect aim, anyway. he was never going to miss. he never misses. but as he approached, he had wished he did.

he approached the corpses slowly, making no haste in his steps. two birds, one stone. then he saw you.

you.

alastor’s manic smile faltered as the realization dawned on him. he fell to his knees, dropping the rifle, nearly throwing it to the side. his eyes blew open as he was instantly to your side. it was quite pathetic— especially for him. by now, he wouldve been tearing his victim’s flesh open, feasting on his prey like some crazed animal.

four minutes.

you, weren’t supposed to be home yet. you, weren’t supposed to wander to the small, suspicious sounds of the forest.

you weren’t the main target.

you coughed up blood, suffering the same fate of the man you had just encountered a few moments ago. now you were the victim, fallen to the forever bloodied hands of your manic father. the fact it was your father still hasn’t occurred to you fully yet.

he softly cradled you in his arms, now seeing your face stare back at him. “pa?” you coughed out, earning a shush from alastor.

“it’ll be okay, my dear.” he said, not sure if he was assuring himself too. his manic laugh grew louder and louder as he rocked you back and forth like a helpless child. “ça va aller..” he repeated this like a spell. a prayer. a grasp of intangible hope.

three minutes.

“pa, it hurts.” hurts was an understatement. your whole life was draining from one measly hole in your neck. it burned. ached. everything you have worked for draining out of your body in the matter of minutes.

“i know, my dear. it’ll all be better soon..” he carefully scooped you up to rest in his chest as if he were comforting you from a nightmare.

but his ego would never admit he was comforting himself in this nightmare.

it wasnt a nightmare, however. it was reality. your blood pooled onto his coat. his hands. everywhere. the stench reminding him that this was in fact, reality.

two minutes.

in moments of pure desperation, tears pooled down his face, completely contrasting the smile on his face. his eyes spoke.

“im sorry, pa.” you apologized. why were you apologizing?, you asked yourself. he was the one that just threw away your whole life, you thought. but—

but he was your father.

“don’t you apologize, my little dove,” he responded, “don’t you apologize.” his hand held your head to his shoulder. the hand that caused this mess in the first place.

one minute.

your life flashed before your eyes. did he even care? were you just another toy of his that he could kill? was he behind all of these killings he himself announced on the radio show you, oh, so adored— no, of course he did. it all made sense now.

“i love you.”

wait.

why did you say that?

times up.

— — — — — PRESENT.

the ringing of the water came back to you. the lukewarm water weaved through your fingers. it brought you back to your senses.

“say, his name was alastor.” she answered.

alastor.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #dad!alastor x reader #angel reader #platonic #angst #gore #character x reader #how do people tag #french??#hazbin hotel spoilers

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what-even-is-thiss · 5 months

Note

european here (genuinely curious): in reference to your “american home-cooked food isn’t just fast food, it’s a lot like french/italian food” post, could you give some examples? I don’t know what foods are american home staples, but your post piqued my interest

Well stews and soups for one. When I read recipes for stuff like beef bourguignon it’s quite familiar to me. Less wine perhaps but the principles of the dish are similar.

Italian-American food often also makes for easy quick food on weeknights. Pasta is something that can be just as easy or complicated as you want. You can make it from scratch at every step or just make sauce from canned ingredients and boxed pasta. Tomato paste, flour, pasta, and dried herbs are staples in most kitchens. Pretty much every household has their own way of making pasta sauces.

Roasts are popular during the winter. Both roasted veggies and roasted meat. Potatoes are popular year round but in the summer things like potato salad or fries or bagged chips are more common than stewed, mashed, or boiled potatoes.

Americans commonly cook with butter and olive oil, though canola oil is cheaper. In recent years though there’s been health questions about canola oil and some people only use it for deep frying now.

French cream sauces are pretty similar to American white gravy which we make with cream instead of milk. We do also make white sauce too and will put it on most things. I find it especially good on pizza instead of red sauce. A lot of people also put it on pasta or vegetables.

A lot of the way we eat potatoes is pretty similar to some French dishes. What we call scalloped potatoes is very similar to a French dish called potatoes au gratin. Not identical, but extremely similar.

Stuff like French onion soup and duck a l’orange is also decently popular here even if not everyday food and are things you’d more commonly make yourself than buy from a restaraunt.

French style breads and pastries are also quite popular here. Baguettes are common things to cut up to eat with dip. Croissants with coffee are common things to eat for a small breakfast or an afternoon snack. French style breads both sweet and not are also common breads used for sandwiches. Italian style coffee is also more and more popular these days but that wasn’t true until relatively recently.

A lot of similarities really lie in the ingredients we use. We often cook things in butter for example. Or add flour to stews to thicken them. Or add milk to things. Or use wine to deglaze pans for the flavor.

A lot of home cooking in the US is affected by other immigrant populations. Tacos or curry are staples in my diet for example. But when you get down to more traditional comfort food it’s potatoes, cream sauces, stews, herbs, roasts, and pasta. Stuff that’s not identical to French or Italian cooking but is very heavily influenced by it.

TLDR: It’s butter!

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rfswitchart · 3 months

Text

Hunter's Comfort Food

I think, at this point, you all know my personal favorite Owl House headcanon. I shouldn't have to say what it is, you already know what I'm about to discuss. However, I am going to describe why Hunter loves what he does and maybe you'll adopt it as your headcanon too...

It all started when Hunter ran away from the Emperor's Coven Post-Hollow Mind. He'd been living in the paranormatorim in Hexside since, building a nest and living on snacks. Gus, having seen the former Golden Guard living so dreadfully, offers him his lunch, which, among other things, included a sandwich.

Hunter then helps Gus escape Adrian and the scouts, citing his reason for doing so being because Gus offered him food. When the illusionist questions him on it, Hunter says "It was a really good sandwich." As many have pointed out, Hunter's diet in the castle was probably miserable. On top of it, he was clearly malnourished, as several characters (Luz, Eda, Amity, Edric, Emira, Matt) have said. So it is assumed he didn't have a great time food wise, which is why he looked so happy eating that loaf of bread in King's Tide...

Yeah, look at him go. Happily chewing on some bread and being pleased as punch over it. And this is where my HC came to be, Hunter and Gus bonding over a simple offering of food. A kindness Hunter had probably never known until then, combined with something that probably saved his life or at the very least made him feel much better. I feel like that sole interaction weighed on Hunter's heart, and it made him fall in love with sandwiches. After all, without Gus' sandwich, he would have never been able to sit down and actually talk about how he was feeling about Belos. He wouldn't have bonded with Gus and helped the younger witch when he needed it most. Hunter developed an intensely strong bond with Gus, a friendship and brotherhood forged in love, trust, and sandwiches.

That said, I assume when they were trapped in the human realm, Hunter started looking into various types of sandwiches (with the help of Camila and Luz, of course.) Figuring out what the best meats and cheeses were. What kinds of vegetables go well with them (information he totally shared with Willow, obviously.) The best kinds of bread and condiments to compliment the other ingredients. I assume he learned about what foods he liked and disliked (boy loves himself some olives, btw.) Of course, this eventually lead to the ultimate creation. His pride and joy: The True Hero Sub. The culmination of his knowledge and understanding of foods that allowed him to create divinity between two slices of bread (well, shoved into a loaf of french bread, but hey, who's counting?)

Of course, this is a BIG sandwich. I know, that's the one I made myself. It is about 2' long (60.69cm for you non-Americans.) It is not something you can eat by yourself, and Hunter would never want to eat it alone. Because of this sandwich, Hunter came up with his philosophy on food; "Food tastes best when shared with others." So I assume the first time he made one, he shared it with the others. Definitely Gus, his sandwich brethren, and possibly Willow, someone Hunter would be thrilled to share his accomplishments with.

And this probably continued as he became an adult. I bet anything that Hunter has a series of sandwiches he brings with him to work. He maybe even wrote down his own cookbook of sorts for them. You KNOW anytime he had a new idea, Gus was the first person he told about it. He probably even made a book to make sandwiches to represent Cosmic Frontier characters (you know Gus AND Camila happily assisted him.) And that's my headcanon. A boy, his best friend, and a type of food that brought them closer and possibly even saved a life in more than one sense. In this house, we respect the Sandwich Bros. (Tagging @childlikegoblinqueen, @unniebeans, and @probablyhuntersmom, who I assume have also had this headcanon infect their brain for some time. *evil laugh*)

#the owl house #toh hunter #hunter noceda #toh headcanon #hunter deamonne #toh gus #gus porter #sandwich bros #hunter loves sandwiches

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foodffs · 8 months

Photo

This delicious Monte Cristo Sandwich Recipe is made with ham, turkey, and Swiss Cheese between two slices of white bread dipped in egg batter and fried up golden brown in a skillet. It is almost like eating a grilled cheese sandwich with all the goodies inside sandwiched between French Toast.

#submission

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sadhours · 1 year

Note

I stg I need a fic with billy and his lil housewife and (possible) breeding kink.

Just imagine he's coming home from work everyday and you've got his dinner made and everything. And not the abusive kinda housewife shit. But you love being his lil wifey. Love cooking him meals and preparing his clothes and lunch every morning before he leaves for work.

And the first thing he does when he comes home is giving you a big ole kiss on the cheek and thanking you for all your effort around the house

"Dinner looks so fucking good, love when you cook for me like this. You're absolutely amazing."

And oh godddd when he tells you he wants a kid (took lots of thinking for him) and he's expecting you to say no because you're both so young still. (20-22) but you say yes and now you're starting your own lil family.

big fan of the housewife thing. 🥵

18+ minors dni!!! Smut!

Falling into the role of Billy’s doting housewife was easy. Hell, you were doing it before he even put this beautiful ring on your finger. It shimmers in the sunlight as you smear mayonnaise on bread while you prepared his lunch for the day and you feel so warm and fuzzy at the memory of your wedding day. How absolutely gorgeous Billy looked in his tuxedo and the way his eyes lit up, all glassy when you walked down the aisle. You heave a happy sigh, layering meat and cheese on the bread. You’d requested the ham be sliced as thin as possible, almost shredded, just the way Billy liked it. You close the sandwich up and slide it into the ziploc baggie, zipping it up before delicately placing it in his lunch pail, along with a bag of Lay’s and a can of coke. You grab the pad of heart shaped sticky notes and press a sharpie to it.

I hope your day is as lovely as you are, you scrawl onto it in practiced cursive.

You carefully lay the note on top of the lunch and close the lid, latching it closed before hurrying to the bedroom and opening the closet door, meticulously retrieving Billy’s uniform from the rack and laying it out on the bed for him. Your long, satin nightdress sways with your movements. You hear the bathroom door open as you’re placing a pair of socks and briefs on the bed and you’re overtaken with the warmness of Billy’s body pressing into yours from behind. He places delicate kisses to the back of your neck, chills running up to meet his lips.

“Mmm,” he purrs, “Thank you, darling.”

You melt in his arms, leaning up to smooch his lips. “You’re so very welcome,” you grin.

He gives a loving tap to your rear before dropping the towel from his waist and snatching the briefs you’d picked out for him. You kiss his cheek, turning to return to kitchen and pouring him his cup of coffee and dish up his breakfast. It’s the same breakfast every weekday, hash browns, extra crispy bacon and sunny side up eggs. On the weekends, Billy spoils you by making French toast and mimosas, bringing it to you in bed.

You set it at the table as he’s walking into the kitchen, gifting you with a wink before he sits down, “Thanks for cooking breakfast, darling. Looks amazing.”

You flush at his never ending gratitude and praise, dish your own plate and sit across from him at the table, waiting patiently for him to salt and pepper his eggs before grabbing the shakers yourself.

“So what’s my gorgeous wife’s day look like?” he inquires, lovingly.

You bite your lip, his compliments never fail to make you feel hot and bothered, “I think I’ll do a bit of light reading. I’ve got to go to the grocery store and then I’ll clean before starting on dinner.”

Billy shovels hash browns in his mouth and smiles as he chews, a tender glint in his eyes as he looks at you. He swallows, “Make sure you have some fun. Not too much without me, though.”

He shoots you a wink and it goes straight to your heart and nether regions… You can’t help but giggle, “I think I’ll go to Sears before I go to the grocery store. I need a dress for that work thing you have.”

Billy lifts his asscheek, retrieving his wallet from his back pocket and hands over his credit card, “Here, doll.”

You take the card between your fingers, “Thank you.”

You two finish up breakfast and you take his plate, bringing the pair to the sink. You grab his lunch pail and follow him to the door, kissing him deeply while handing his lunch to him.

“Have a good day, love,” you sigh dreamily, cheeks flushed from the goodbye kiss.

“You too,” he smiles and heads to his Camaro.

You linger in the doorway, waving to him as he reverses out of the driveway.

You peer at the row of mannequins sporting the new spring collection, tulle and floral catching your eye as you reach to feel the material. They’re cute dresses but you’ve got a goal in mind. You trail to the formal collection. The event is a charity event that Billy’s workplace is sponsoring. It calls for something that doesn’t currently exist in your closet.

An emerald gown calls your name, the velvet number with a draping neckline and a subtle slit up the side. You file through the rack until you find your size, trying it on and imagining Billy standing beside you in a dark suit. You melt at the thought, missing him intensely. You’re sold and after you exit the dressing room, you make your way to the display of ties in the men’s section. You find an exact color match to your dress, giddy at the luck. You drape it against the gown and search for a twin handkerchief.

You make it home after your purchases, hanging the dress up and displaying the tie and handkerchief on the dresser for Billy to find. You get started on your routine of cleaning the house; picking up clutter, scrubbing the kitchen and bathrooms before making quick work of the vacuuming, dusting and mopping the place. You step back proudly as you gaze at the house. Glancing at the clock on the stove, you realize your time is waning before Billy will be back home. You hurry to get started on dinner, prepping the vegetables and marinating the meat.

As it nears six o’clock, you light the candles on the table and move to find the right record for dinner, flipping through the vinyls until you land on a collection of Paul Anka. You lift the needle on the machine before delicately placing the record on the platform. You start it and your hips begin swaying with the music, dancing your way back into the kitchen to set the table. You retrieve the bottle of white wine you’d been chilling in the fridge since returning home. You’re pouring both glasses when the front door swings open and with it, you’re breathtaking husband walks in. He strolls over, placing a hand on your hip and kissing your cheek.

“House looks incredible, dinner smells wonderful and you look ravishing,” he purrs.

You do it all for him, for this. You wouldn’t have it any other way. He treats you so well, gives you absolutely everything he can and it’s so easy to repay him with making his home a home.

“Thank you,” you squeak, cheerily as you take the lunchbox from his hand and placing it on the counter.

After dinner, Billy enjoys a cigarette at the table and you retrieve an ashtray for him. As you’re placing it down, he grabs onto your waist and pulls you into his lap. He showers you with kisses, earning a fit of giggles from you.

“God, I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he beams.

“I’m the lucky one,” you tap the tip of his button nose with your finger before forcing yourself up to get started on the dishes.

As you’re finishing up, Billy snakes his arms around your middle and kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

“Dance with me,” he requests and you accept gratefully, pulling your baby pink rubber gloves off before turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rest on the small of your back as he sways with you in the kitchen, eyes gazing into your own. His ocean blue eyes are the prettiest you’ve ever seen, turning you to putty in his hands. He spins you around, dipping you and lifting you back up to kiss. Then he’s pressing you against the counter, still moving his hips in time with the music.

Don’t Ever Leave Me rings through the house, setting the mood perfectly for Billy to confess what he’s had on his mind since he married you.

“I want you to have my baby,” his voice is stern yet full of yearning.

It catches you off guard, eyes widening and he quickly babbles off, “I know. We’re young. But fuck, darling, I want to get you pregnant so goddamn bad.”

Heat rises up between your thighs while your chest tightens, you’re so pleasantly surprised. You’d been thinking about taking prenatal vitamins when your mom had told you it makes you more fertile. You’d wanted to start a family the second you got hitched.

“Yes,” you agree, “I wanna have your baby, Billy.”

He’s giddy at the prospect, lifting you up and placing you on the counter as he kisses you through his face splitting smile. Your legs wrap around him, hands pulling him even closer as you part your lips when his tongue prods for entrance. Your eyes fluttering shut as you feel his tongue swirl around yours. God, he’s all yours. You can’t believe you’ve been blessed with Billy. You thank every omniscient entity you can think of while he continues his invasion of your mouth. He pulls back and admires you, longing in his eyes. You’re floored under his gaze, extreme devotion to this man oozing from every pore.

“Get me pregnant, Billy,” you plead.

He picks you up from the counter, carrying you the bedroom and kicking the door open with his foot. He lays you down and begins kissing your legs, staring at your ankles and reaching your thighs. He shoves your dress up and hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs and exposes your glistening core. He takes it in with hungry eyes, gentle fingers brushing through your folds. You toss your head back, moaning breathlessly as your fingers frantically grip onto the duvet beneath you. Billy rests his cheek on your thigh, observing his motions while he swipes languidly up and down. His fingers briefly connect with your clit and you writhe against it, but he moves his digits down to your eager hole. He heaves a sigh as he feels the slick leaking out. Billy places a sloppy kiss to your thigh before placing another over your sensitive bud, he flicks his tongue against it and you’re falling apart beneath him as you pant out his name and spreading your legs further apart.

“I’m gonna fill this gorgeous cunt up with my cum,” he growls, eyes peering up at you from between your legs which earns a desperate cry from you.

He licks a broad, firm stripe through your folds and then sucks your clit in between his lips. It feels so good you feel like you’re sinking into the mattress deeper and deeper. His digits slide inside of your pussy, curling when fills you to his knuckles.

You cry out, “Fuck!”

Billy pulls his mouth away but keeps working his fingers inside of you, spreading them to stretch you out. “I’m gonna get you so fucking pregnant,” he bellows, voice deep and husky.

“Please,” you beg, eyes squeezed shut as his fingers drag against your walls. “Wanna have your baby so bad… want you… need you to—“ the words catch in your throat and a loud moan replaces them as he licks against your clit again.

Billy pulls his fingers out, making you feel empty as you clench around nothing. You watch lustfully as he shoves his fingers in his mouth to taste you. You sit up and try to pull your dress up and over your shoulders but you struggle. Your husband chuckles softly and you feel his fingers grabbing onto the material to help you peel it off. He litters kisses along your collarbone as he maneuvers beneath your back to take your bra off, his tongue sticking out of the side of his lips in concentration. You giggle, heart swelling at the adorable sight of him.

“What’s so funny?” he chides playfully.

“Look so cute,” you chirp, your cheeks hot.

He pulls the straps from your shoulders and tosses the bra across the room, lowering his lips to your exposed breasts as he mumbles against the supple skin, “M’being sexy.”

“Mmm, yes, very,” you purr as your fingers tangle in his blonde coils.

Billy licks against your nipple as he cups your breasts, bouncing them slightly, “These are just gonna get bigger too.”

Your back arches as his hand dips between your legs, rubbing against your hole teasingly, it feels so good but you want him to fill it. Billy licks his lips, looking up at you, “I can’t fucking wait to fill this pussy up.”

He was ecstatic. Billy was remarkably well at pulling out. The entire time you’d been together, you’d never had a scare or mishap and you’d never used protection. His mind was reeling at the thought of actually cumming inside of you.

“Need it, baby,” you whine out, writhing beneath his touch.

He straightens himself up and starts undoing the buttons of his work shirt. Your eyes take in the flesh revealed underneath, his toned chest and stomach. He’s the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen and he was all yours. You sit up to push the collared shirt over his shoulders, he presses his palm to your chest and lightly pushes you back. He just wants you to watch right now. He unbuckles his belt and swiftly pulls it from the loops as you lay on your back, eyes following his fingers when they start to unbutton his pants. You ache to touch him, squirming in anticipation while he unzips and pushes the pants to the bottom of his thighs. He’s straining against his tight briefs, the ones you’d picked out for him. Billy palms himself over the cotton material and you groan softly, loving that you’re the reason why he’s so aroused.

“Lemme see,” you plead, voice so light it’s barely audible.

He smirks down at you, “You want it so bad.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod eagerly, licking your lips as your eyes bounce from his back down to his crotch. “Pretty please.”

“Eager girl,” Billy chides as he pushes his briefs down and you heave a pleased whine as you watch his cock spring out.

Billy’s hand wraps around his base and you watch as he strokes himself. You spread your legs further, an attempt to entice him to give you what you so desperately need. Billy’s eyes drop down when you do so, impervious grin spreading his lips up and he scoots his knees up a bit, inching closer to your drooling core. He slaps his tip against your pussy, sending chills up the back of your thighs.

He speaks low as he drags it through your folds, “I’m gonna pump this pussy full of my cum.”

The filthy words dripping with desire pulls a whine from you as your back arches and your hands grab at the sheets. Billy leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You rip your hands from the sheets and cling them onto his sides, parting your lips when you feel his tongue drag against them. Moaning into his mouth when you feel his cock finally slip inside you, angling your hips up to meet him. Billy grunts, stilling his movements as he looks into your eyes. You squirm, scratching against his ribs as you silently beg him to move again.

“Billy,” you plead, rolling your hips up.

He pushes your hair off your sweaty forehead and smiles, giving a hard thrust of his hips. You gasp, toes curling against the sheets beneath you. Billy closes his eyes tight, laughing softly, “I’m already gonna fucking cum.”

You giggle, “Yeah? Feels that good?”

He buries his face in your neck and mumbles, “Just thinking about filling you up is getting me there.”

You grab into his hair and wildly rocking your hips up. Billy groans, “Fuck…”

He pins your hips with his hands and drills into you, his face contorted and breathless moans tumbling from his throat.

“Billy,” you cry out, “Cum in my pussy!”

He groans out, shooting his thick, hot load into you. Billy pulls out, sitting back on his feet and licking his lips as he sees his seed leaking out of you. He scoops it up with his finger and shoves it back into you. He presses his cock back to your entrance and fucks his cum back into you, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing it in quick circles. You cry out, the pressure building up in your stomach finally snapping as you fall apart around his dick.

Billy collapses next to you, kissing you all over but lifts an eyebrow as you lift your legs in the air and use your hands to hold your ass up too.

“What are you doing?” he asks, curiously.

“I read that if you wanna get pregnant, you should do this after,” you say matter-of-factory. Billy laughs, rubbing your stomach while he gazes at you lovingly.

Billy gets home from work not particularly in the best mood. Nothing really awful happened but it was a long day. All he wants to do is see your gorgeous face and relax.

He walks inside and you’re in the kitchen, dishing up plates as per routine. He saunters over to you, placing his lunchbox on the counter and grabbing a hold of your hips, turning you and pressing your back against the counter, kissing you eagerly.

You pull away and smile at him, “Long day?”

He nods, thumb caressing your chin, “Couldn’t wait to get home to my beautiful wife.”

“Pregnant wife,” you confess.

“What?” Billy’s eyes widen, smiling.

You nod, “I’m pregnant.”

Your husband picks you up and spins you around, kissing you deeply.

#billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x female reader

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selineram3421 · 11 months

Text

I'm turning some pain into a oneshot. Also I like this art on the merch.

In The Morning, part 3🌹

Alastor X Sweet Reader Oneshot

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ fluff, kisses, hugs, soft Alastor, food mention, hint at cannibalism, domestic ⚠

One of the rare moments in your afterlife, you woke up at the same time as Alastor.

"Good morning.", you mumble, slowly blinking your eyes to try having them adjust to the light coming in from the window.

"Good morning my dear.", he said, moving closer to you and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Shall we make breakfast?"

"Hm..", you hummed, still comfortable where you were, limbs tangled and all.

But breakfast didn't sound too bad.

"Yes.", you decide and give him a quick peck before sitting up. "What do you want to make today?", you ask.

"French toast?", he suggests, taking a hold of your hand and pressing kisses on your knuckles. "Or perhaps an American styled breakfast? Eggs, toast, and sausages or bacon on the side."

"What about you love?", you say and pull on his hand holding yours, kissing it before getting out of bed. "Huevos con chorriso? Or grits?"

"Let's see what we have in the kitchen.", he says before getting up as well.

After tossing on some robes and slippers, both of you make your way downstairs and head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to glance at your options.

"We can prepare..", he mumbles, picking up the eggs. "Egg sandwiches, omelets, boiled egg, egg.. What are the flat things called again?"

"Tortillas.", you say.

"Yes, we can also make those egg burritos.", he nods. "Then there's the option of pancakes, waffles, crepes, french toast.."

With a smile and a shake of your head, you make your way over to the coffee machine, getting the pot and filling it with water.

"I'll start the coffee.", you say.

After putting the water in and setting the pot back in place, Alastor brings ingredients over to the counter.

"I'm making beans and sunny side up eggs with sausage. Is that fine?", he asks.

"Mhm.", you nod and get the mugs from the cupboard. "Are you going to cook your meat separately?", you ask.

"Don't worry, I won't eat that kind until later.", he says and puts a large pan on the stove. "For dinner."

You put in the filter before putting in scoops of ground coffee, making sure to count them as you go.

Then there's music.

Darlin', if I sat down and I wrote a song

I would know where every word belongs

'Cuz I'd write my song about you

Looking over, you find the microphone just a bit away from the fridge, playing an oldie. The mic looks happy after you give it a wave.

When the coffee starts after a push of a button, you head over to your man in red, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your forehead against his back.

"Want help?", you question, tightening your hold just a bit before going back to holding him regularly.

"I'd be grateful but I like you hugging me from behind. Stay?", he glances back, only seeing the top of your head.

You nod and stay, listening to the music and the sizzling of beans. Without letting go completely, you get the bean masher and place it on his waiting hand.

"Thank you dear.", the deer demon says and mashes the beans a bit.

When he's done with the beans, he places a lid on it before putting the flame on low. Getting out another pan, smaller for the sausages and eggs.

You let go and pat his back lightly.

"I'm going to make toast and get some avocado.", you tell him before making your way to get the bread.

Another song plays from the mic.

La la la la la la

My Cherie amour, lovely as a summer day

My Cherie amour, distant as the Milky Way

You can hear him hum along to the song, a smile forms on your lips.

Cutting the bread, you make sure its not too thin before cutting out four more. You clean the bread crumbs off the knife before putting it away.

Putting the bread in the toaster, you push down the little lever and turn the knob to three minutes. On your way to get the coffee, you pocket a knife and avocado to bring to the table.

Alastor is almost done cooking, already on the eggs.

You pour the coffee into the mugs and put the pot back before going to the table, setting everything down. And making sure to get the items out of your pocket too.

Hearing the clinking of plates, you go to help, taking one from his hand.

"I've got mine love.", you say and peck his cheek. "Thank you."

Both of you serve your plates and get ready to head to the table.

Then the toast pops up.

"I'll get it, go sit down.", he says, stealing a kiss and the plates of food.

You blink and blush, turning to the table before he could see that he's made you flush so easily.

Sitting down, you make sure there's napkins for both of you.

Alastor comes with the plates full of food, placing them down and giving you your utensils.

The song on the mic changes again when you begin to eat, and as you go to drink your coffee, you remember about the cream and sugar.

"I forgot-", you start.

With a snap of his fingers, the Radio Demon makes the cream and sugar appear on the table, along with a small vase with a red rose.

"Enjoy darling.", he says cutting the avocado.

'Cause we've got a life of love that won't ever change and

Everyday love me your own special way

Melt all my heart away with a smile

Adding the cream and sugar the way you like it, you can't help but keep a smile on.

You really liked these kinds of mornings with Alastor, even if they were somewhat rare.

I'm fine now, so don't worry. ❤ Song names in the tags.

~Seline, the person.

🌹In The Morning, part 1 , part 2.

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @willowaudreykeyes @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @bisexualboba @kiraisastay @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

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goldenmetstli · 4 months

Text

General Headcanons of Seto Kaiba

I have nothing to say but that he has been on my mind lately lol ¯\(ツ)/¯

✮ Doesn't like being touched, and Mokuba is the only one who can hug him. When they were kids, Seto was more affectionate; they held hands while crossing the street; when Mokuba had a nightmare, they cuddled, etc. After being adopted and enduring Gozanburo abuse, Seto now has a hard time being physically affectionate.

✮ He's always extremely busy, so he doesn't get to watch a lot of movies, but his favorite genres are horror and sci-fi.

✮ He is running with 5 hours of sleep every day, eats only when he remembers (or has quick snacks like nuts and berries) and his mind is always running. Even with that, he tries to be healthy because he is one of those people that, when they get sick, they get knocked down for days.

✮ In his job, he is pretty innovative and willing to try new technology to improve his company, but in his private life, he has specific meals and drinks that he enjoys and rarely tries anything new. They also need to be prepared in a certain way; otherwise, he won't eat them.

✮ Not a fan of fast food and sweets, the complete opposite of Mokuba, who always has candy in his pocket and wants to eat out every day.

✮ Rarely cooks for himself, but he knows how to make basic meals and occasionally puts together a sandwich as a quick meal (with very expensive bread and meat, of course).

✮ Kaiba usually works on silence, but in his spare time (if he has any), he listens to rock and alternative music.

✮ Reads A LOT, primarily business-related. If he doesn't have time to read, he listens to audiobooks, usually in Japanese and English.

✮ He can speak english, chinese, korean and french.

✮ Until puberty, he had a stylist, but after becoming the CEO of Kaiba Corp, he fired them. He chooses what to wear for events and has even designed some of his outfits (his coat, for example). Needless to say, all of his clothes and shoes are very expensive.

✮ Even if he is extremely busy he would never ever spend more than a day without taking a shower. He takes great pride in looking clean and presentable. He has an image to maintain, so you bet he always looks his best and smells amazing.

✮ Does he consider himself good-looking? Yes, and not only that, but he knows he is effortlessly handsome, so trying to look hot is not a priority because he knows he just looks like that. Still, it is not like he flaunts his appearance; he is more proud of his mind and hard work.

✮ As much as he stays current with the latest technology and business practices, he is very far removed from internet culture. So yes, he only knew what a meme was when Mokuba told him, and now Mokuba helps in the digital marketing area.

✮ He's pretty much a jerk, but he is extremely professional and pays fairly to his employees. The work environment? Well, the higher your position, the higher the anxiety, but if you work at the desk, it is a pretty good job. But mind you, he expects you to give your best even if you are in the lowest position in the company.

✮ On days when he has had a lot of work and has not been able to sleep well, he has fallen asleep in his limousine.

#yugioh headcanons #yugioh imagines #seto kaiba #kaiba seto #yugioh #Happy New Year everybody!!!#as a random note I'm pretty happy that my english writing skills are getting better!#tbh using Grammarly helps a lot

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justmeinadaze · 7 months

Text

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 6 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Security Dom Steddie X Sub (slightly bratty) Singer Fem Reader, SMUT, spanking, dirty talk, slight rough play (they show her a bit more of what they are into), FLUFF, they go on a date through Paris and she shows them around, they do discuss being more exclusive (as if she or they would want anyone else🙄 ), ANGST, slightly so with her talking briefly about being sober and her fears of being in a relationship again.

Word Count: 4812

“Obviously, you’re taking us to the Eiffel Tower, right?”, Steve grinned in your direction as you three walked the streets of Paris.

“Yes but tonight when it’s all lit up.”

The day couldn’t be any more perfect for you and you were the happiest you had been in a long time. You took them around to each place you could think of that didn’t have a long line, stopping at bakeries and little shops to have them taste everything while looking for little trinkets to bring back home.

They seemed to really be enjoying themselves which made you smile. Eddie had befriended a street musician who handed him an acoustic guitar and he sat beside him as they played a couple of songs. You took them to a vintage store where they had a blast looking at the clothes. Steve keeping trying on different hats asking you how he looked. One had a brim that three sizes too big causing you to spit out your water as you laughed at him.

After grabbing lunch, you took them to a park nearby and had a picnic.

“Seriously, I’m going to gain like thirty pounds off of this bread but so worth it.”, Steve chuckles as he takes another bite of his sandwich.

“Oh, yeah. The food is phenomenal but you have to watch out for the butter and the sauces. Don’t even get me started on the chocolate.” Eddie smiles when your eyes playfully roll back.

“Did you parents show you all these places or did you find them yourself?”, he asked.

“A bit of both. The first few years I came here I basically recreated that vacation but as I wondered the streets I found more places and things to enjoy.”

“Excusez-moi.” A little girl shyly comes up to your blanket holding out a pen and paper. “May I have your…”

“Autographe?”, you smile up at her comfortingly as she grins. “Of course. Um… Quel est… ton nom?”

“Chloe.” She beams in your direction.

“I’m sorry, Chloe. My French isn’t great.”

“It’s…okay.” Her grin grows as you give the paper back to her and lean up on your knees to give her a hug.

“Merci, Miss Y/L/N!”

“Merci, Chloe.”

The three of you watch her as she runs back to her parents.

“That was adorable.”, Steve smirks.

“It was. I didn’t know you had fans that were so small.”, Eddie adds.

“Yeah, that’s another reason I want to be better. I’m supposed to be a role model for them you know?”

“And you are, honey. You’re already doing so much better and we are extremely proud of you.”

***

“Why do I have to wear a suit?!”, Eddie shouts from the bedroom as he adjusts his tie.

“Because we’re taking her to dinner, you idiot.”

“I’m just asking!”

“Plus, this will technically be our first date with her so we should look nice.”

Both men turn when they hear you exit the bathroom and their mouths fall open in shock as their eyes drink you in. Your hair was pulled up into a neat bun displaying a pair of earrings that shimmered when you moved your head. The thin spaghetti straps held up a gorgeous, black, V-neck style dress that just barely touched your ankles. When you nervously shifted your weight, the slit in the fabric exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh showing off some fancy, matching black high heeled shoes.

“What, um, what do you think?”

“You…you…Jesus, I may be underdressed.”, Steve breathily chuckled.

“Eddie?”

“You look beautiful, princess.”

Blushing, you loop your arms into theirs as they escort you out of the hotel. When you three arrive at the restaurant, they watch you in amazement as you talk to the people in charge and an antsy gentleman leads you to a table. Steve pulls out your chair and you thank him as you take a seat.

Both boys straighten up when a man comes out from the kitchen and heads towards you but immediately calm when you smile, assuring them that this is someone you know.

“Miss Y/L/N! It’s been so long, my love! How are things?”

“Things have been rough but they are getting better. Julien, these are my friends AND security, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington.”

They grin as they shake his hand and he returns their smiles with a bright one of his own.

“Who better to watch your back than a friend that loves you, ah? Now, mon amour, should we start with the usual champagne?”

“Oh, no. Um, do you have something without alcohol?”

“Hmm? Oh! How about citron pressé?”

“Sure, I trust you.”, you giggle as you shrug, watching him disappear without asking the guys if that was ok with them. “I have no idea what that is but—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Both men had been starring at you with a cute, goofy smile plastered on their face.

“Nothing. You’re just adorable.”

“It’s nice seeing this side of you to. You really needed a break, sweetheart.”

The rest of the meal couldn’t be described in any other way beside perfect. They talked to you more about some positive things in their lives trying to keep the mood uplifted. Eddie told you about his love for fantasy related things like D&D which made you laugh when the other man rolled his eyes. Steve surprised you by telling you of some movies he actually really liked.

“Ok you can’t sigh aggressively when I talk about sci-fi fantasy shit but then tell her that one of your favorite movies is Star Wars!”

“It’s completely different, Munson.”

“How!?”

“It’s actually not that different.”

“Thank you, princess!”

“But to be fair, George Lucas said he made Star Wars kind of like a western so Steve may drift more towards that then regular sci-fi.”

“Ok, you’re not on my side anymore. Hush.”, Eddie responds playfully.

You did your best to tell them more happy memories with you and your family but you struggled because it hurt. Every time you stuttered through a story, though, one or both of them would reach for your hand and urge you to continue.

After you were done eating, you kept your word and took them to the Eiffel Tower as it was all lit up. The people in charge cut off a section so you three wouldn’t be noticed or bothered which you greatly appreciated.

“Wow, check out that view.” Steve exhaled as he took a few pictures pausing when he noticed your face as you leaned against the railing. “You alright, honey?”

“Yeah. I just wish I could stay here in this moment. I’m having a lot of fun with you two and I think this is the first time in a long time I’ve actually been…happy.”

Eddie’s palm gently reaches out to run down your back before bringing you to his chest to wrap you up in his embrace.

“I know what you mean. Stop me if I’m wrong Harrington but we’ve never felt like this about anyone before. We really like you, Y/N.”

“We’re all in if you are.”

“You barely know me. What if I fuck up again? What if I hurt you? What if…I’m not what you thought I am?”

“She’s doing that thing again.”, Eddie murmurs to Steve as he releases you and leans against the railing. “It’s like her own brand of self-harm…or maybe self-protection?” He raises his eyebrows inquisitively and you quickly shift your gaze. “Ah yes. There it is. She keeps says ‘What if I’ but what she really means if ‘What if you’.”

“Baby, we’re not asking you to marry us or anything. What we’re asking for is MORE nights like tonight. To be able to take you out more and get to know you better and vice versa. We know you’ve been through a lot and still are. We would never push you like they do.”

“And quite frankly, sweetheart, I don’t think there could be any more surprises because you’ve already showed us you’re not who we thought you were originally.”

“Spoiled, washed up singer.”, Steve explains when you look at them in confusion.

“When it comes to the I’s, babe, we got you covered. You slip again and want to run all over Vegas, we’ll come get you. You have one of those moments where you try to verbally hurt us, don’t worry, we got you. We have ropes and handcuffs for situations like that.” You can’t help but giggle when he winks.

“When it comes to the you’s, you can ask us anything and we’ll answer. If there’s something you need or need to know just let us know and we can talk about it.”

Glancing out towards the city, you feel everything run through your brain at once. You knew from the moment you met them that they were different. You trust them with your life so why were you so scared to trust them with your heart?

Because everyone who’s supposed to love you, hurts you…

Do they even love you? They can’t possibly…like you said they barely even know you. I guess it couldn’t hurt to jump in with both feet.

“Ok. Can we…we keep it between us?”

“We honestly assumed you would because of the press and everything.”, Eddie answers with a small smile.

“I think that’s another reason Simon was with me. He liked the attention from the press.”

“Hm. Well, coming from a small town where everyone was in everyone’s business, trust me, we don’t want that kind of attention.”, Steve retorts as he leans over the railing like you had.

Looping your arm through his, you lean your head against his shoulder as Eddie holds your hand and looks out into the city.

##############

“I have a request.”

“Oh lord.”, the metalhead playfully sighs making you smile.

“Calm down, Mr. Munson.”, you giggle. “The other night I asked you two to show me how much you care about me…” They nod when you pause, urging you silently to continue. “Can you show me how to take care of you?”

Both men, who were now sitting on the couch in the hotel room looked up at you now with slight confusion.

“When we first got together, you said you liked it rough. The other night you implied there was more to what you both were into. I want to give you what you want.”

“You do, honey.”

“You really do.”, Eddie follows almost too eagerly.

“I still don’t think your ready.”, Steve sighs as he takes off his jacket and starts rolling up his sleeves.

“Isn’t this all about trust? Not only do I trust you two but you should trust me to know my limits. Well…in this regard.”

The other man takes off his jacket as well, removing his button up shirt underneath along with it now donning a white tank that displayed his muscles and tattoos in a way that had you salivating.

“Oh, come on, Stevie. We can start slow. Maybe we can show her what a punishment would look like. Something small for running away and having us worried.”

Steve sighs playfully as he motions with his fingers for you come closer. As you sit beside him on the sofa, he gently pets the back of your head while they both continue to look at you with nothing but care.

“If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just say the safe word, ok?”

“Ok, Steve. I promise.”

He grins as his hand slides down to your back and guides your body till you’re laying across his lap on your tummy. While he flips up the underside of your dress Eddie runs his fingers through your hair, moving any lingering strands away from your face.

“How many you think, Ed? 10?”

“10 sounds good. I think she can handle that.”

As your stomach tightens into knots with nerves, Steve’s palm soothes you as it runs down your spine and over the meat of your ass. Abruptly, it lifted and came down spanking your behind eliciting a shocked gasp from your lips. He didn’t hit you hard as it was meant to test.

“How did that feel, babe?”

“Um, odd but g-good.”

“Has anyone ever spanked you before?”, Eddie asked.

“No. Not like this.”

“Honey, I want you to count for me, ok?”

“O-O-Okay. One.”

His hand come down much harder and this time you let out a little moan especially after Steve soothes you by running his fingers along the reddening skin.

“Two.”

“Good girl, sweetheart.”

He spanks you twice in quick secession and they both let out a groan of their own as you breathily count them off. Steve tugs down your panties, his hand coming back to travel a bit between your legs as your mouth falls open when his thumb slides between your sex.

“Oh, Eddie. Little baby is so wet right now. I think the spanking doesn’t feel so odd anymore, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, ringed fingers gripped your hair tightly and tugged you back.

“He asked you something, your highness.”

“Feels…good…AH! Five!”, you moaned as Steve spanked you again.

Eddie held a tight grip on you as the other boy began steadily rubbing your clit while occasionally delivering a harsh smack to your ass.

“What number are we on, baby? Wouldn’t want Stevie to lose count and have to start all over again.”

“Mmm—Nine—Please, Steve. I’m gonna…”

You didn’t see it but they smirked at each other as he slide two fingers into your core and rapidly pumped them inside of you. Your eyes rolled as the coil snapped and as you moaned his name his hand came down one final time while you panted out that final number.

“Good girl, honey.”, he cooed as he delicately lifted your dress over your head. “Let’s get this off here.” You keened into his neck as he sat you up and placed you in his lap while Eddie ran his palm along your legs. “Did you like it, baby?”, Steve whispered.

“Yeah, I liked it a lot. Did you like it? Spanking me?”

He chuckles under his breath, trying to stifle the moan that wants to come out at the sound of your little voice. Reaching for your hand, he places it directly on the bulge in his slacks.

“I loved it.” Your eyes flutter closed as his lips tenderly trail up your cheek to your ear. “You like that, pretty girl? You like making us feel good?”

“M-More. Please. I can handle more. I swear.”

They glanced at each other mischievously knowing you were all riled up.

“No.”

“Please! I can handle it!” As you begin to whine they smile and you can’t help but laugh. “You’re messing with me?”

“A little. We’re kind of curious in this headspace how far your brat can go.” Eddie’s grin grows as you climb on to his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Do you want me to be more bratty?”

“I think you’re capable of it. I work with you remember?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Hey. In here, honey, you answer us, not the other way around.”, Steve scolded.

The metalhead tries to keep the upper hand as you grind your hips against his own. His eyes remain heavily on yours as he licks his lips to keep any other sounds from escaping.

“In here, sweetheart, we have control.”

“You do out there to!”, you whine as you point absently outside. “Where do I have control?”

“Stop moving.”, he says sternly.

“Make me.”

His eyes grow dark as the smile he was adorning falls from his face.

“Stop. Moving.”

You falter for a second as his voice and demeanor throw you off guard but you remain steadfast as you continue. Steve laughs from your side before Eddie lifts you up with one arm and carries you to the bedroom.

Throwing you on to the mattress, he holds your down with his palm on your chest as he uses his other to unbuckle his belt and free his cock from its confinement.

“If you want to stop, just tap twice, ok?” When you nod, his fingers grip your hair as he hovers his face above yours. “Ok?!”

“Ok! Yes, sir! Tap twice!”

Steve nonchalantly throws himself beside you as he watches Eddie slide his cock into your mouth.

“She’s so fucking stubborn sometimes. I swear.”

While the metalhead takes over thrusting his length down your throat, Steve is always alert, watching you to make sure you really were ok. They genuinely did trust you would say the safe word if you needed but neither boy wanted to push you that far.

“Fuck, princess your mouth feels so fucking good. With all that fucking sass, I’m not sure she deserves our dicks in her pussy tonight, Harrington.”

Eddie tried to control his eyes from rolling back when he felt you groan around him.

“Did you have something you wanted to say?”

“Please. I’m sorry, Eddie. I’ll do whatever you want. I promise I’ll behave.”, you beg as you shift up to your knees and continue stroking him with your hand. “Please. I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”

Pinching your cheeks between his fingers, he brings your lips to his before firmly pushing you backwards onto the bed.

“Go show Steve how much you’ll behave.”

As you crawl over to the now naked man, you tenderly kiss his stomach making him smile as he strokes your hair. Delicately running your tongue along his slit, he moans as he pulls your hair into a ponytail with his hands and watches you fully take him into your awaiting mouth.

Eddie jostled you around a bit till your ass was fully on display for him and you both whimpered as he guided his cock into your entrance. The warmth of his chest encases you as he leans against your back and kisses your shoulder.

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you can take him better than that especially with the way you run that sassy mouth.” Taking over Steve’s hold of your hair, he guides your movements making you gag and drool as the man mewls with pleasure. “Atta girl. There you go.”

Eddie rolls his hips hard, roughly nudging against that tender spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling back.

“Is that the spot, pretty girl?” Pulling your head, he forces you to look at him. “Is it? Right there?” You struggle to form words as he continues to grind against you. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“Ah! Y-Yes, there. D-don’t stop. Please…”

The metalhead grins as he pushes you back down on Steve’s cock before releasing his hold on your hair to grip your waist as he leans back on his knees and pounds his hips into yours.

“G-Good girl, honey. Fuck. You take us both so well.”, Steve coos as he pets your head.

Eddie’s fingers slide underneath you, rubbing fast circles into your little bundle of nerves, driving you crazy in the best way as you throw you head back in pleasure.

“FUCK! Eddie please!”

Ringed fingers wrap around your throat and pull you up to your knees as you lean against his shoulder.

“That’s right, baby. Say my name again. Who’s making you feel this good?”, he murmurs into your ear as he slams into you harder.

“Eddie! I’m…Eddie, please…”

Your hand takes hold of his wrist as your other clings his hair while your arm wraps around his neck. His fingers move faster to match his pace while you continue chanting his name until the ball drops and your body trembles against him as you cum.

“Fuck me.”, Eddie groans, shoving you back down against the mattress and holding your wrists behind your back as he chases his high.

Grunting above you, his rhythm becomes sloppier and you mewl as you feel him release his seed inside of you.

“Good girl, princess.”, he praised as he gradually pulled out of you and kissed any part of your skin his lips could reach. “It’s Steve’s turn, sweet girl. Whenever you’re ready.”

Your head shot up in search for him and as your eyes met his soft ones, his fingers reached out to caress your sweaty face. When you nod, he motions for you to come closer, taking hold of you under your arms and scooting you both up closer towards the pillows.

“Come here, honey. No, the other way.”, he instructs as you started straddling his waist. After turning away from him, he guides you down till your back his against his chest. One of his strong palms holds on to your chest as his other holds the base of his cock and runs to along your dripping lips between your legs. “Jesus. Eddie made you feel real good, didn’t he, baby?”

Nodding, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and he moans as he breaches your entrance, sheathing himself inside of you with minimal resistance. As he thrusts his hips up against you, his fingers move around to massage your nub as the hand on your chest takes hold of tit making you growl in ecstasy.

“Steve! So…so deep…oh god.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, Y/N?” Picking up his pace, the bed begins to move underneath you as he clings to your sweaty, messy frame. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s our girl. Your pussy is just fucking clinging to me, pretty girl, God damn.”

Pushing up, you balance on your hands as your hips push down to meet his.

“Can you see it? My cock disappearing inside of you?”

“Steve, please. Please!”

Tugging on your hair, he pulls you back against him, hugging your tightly as he thrusts into you harder. The sound of skin hitting skin fills the room and your eyes roll back as you drag your nails against his flesh.

“I’m…I’m…”

Without warning, he shoves against your back pushing you up and pulling himself out of you, yanking your hips backwards till your pussy was hovering over his face. Roughly, his hands pushed you back down, urging your lips over his cock as he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you still as he his tongue devoured you.

Your hips grinded against him as his head moved quickly from side to side causing you to lift your head and scream as you came. As he continued to lick your clean, you bobbed your head around his length wanting him to feel as good as he had just made you feel.

His grunts reverberated in your cunt as he pumped his hips upwards till you felt rope after rope of his spend hit the back of your throat.

Falling to the side, you both panted till Eddie’s voice broke the silence.

“Yeah, that’s cool. Just put your feet by my face.” You giggled as you lifted your leg and touched his nose with your big toe. “Ew, gross. With these beautiful pedicured, toes. Still purple, I see.”

“I like purple and no one is looking at my feet that closely in an arena style concert.”

“Do you want to take a bath, Y/N, or a shower?”, Steve asks.

“I want to curl up into a cocoon and sleep for 100 years.”

“Ok, bath it is.”, he grinned as he rolled over the side and lifted you into his arms.

While he got everything ready, Eddie’s hands lightly gripped your shoulders and tilted you forward. When your eyes shifted to the mirror, you realized he was looking at your behind.

“It doesn’t hurt. I mean, it’s sore but…”

“I figured. I just need to take a look and make sure you don’t need any ice or anything. I’m sure you’ve noticed but Steve Harrington has big hands so sometimes he unintentionally leaves marks that last for a couple of days.”

“Part of the reason I ask questions.”, he winks as he guides you into the water.

“No one has ever asked me questions before or even done any kind of aftercare. I like it. It makes me feel cared for.

“We do care… a lot.”, Eddie smiles as he holds up your hair while Steve continues to clean you.

“Is this normal for you two? The shared partner thing?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘normal’ but we’ve done it before. Never with a client, however.”, Steve sighs.

“So…this could look bad for everyone if people found out?”

Both men stopped moving as they gave you their full attention.

“Yes. And not just because of the press.”

“People may not hire us anymore if they thought our judgment could be altered when it came to protecting them.”, Eddie followed in a serious tone.

“Are you implying Mr. Munson, that your judgment in keeping me safe has now changed?”

“I’m saying, Y/N, I would take a bullet for you but, for example, us keeping you sober isn’t a part of the security job description. If…If you wanted to get drunk right now we shouldn’t have any say in that…”

“Unless it leads to you roaming Paris in your underwear or makes someone want to hurt you.” Steve glances over your serious face. “What are you thinking, honey?”

“I just…I see what you mean. I wouldn’t want either of you to take a bullet or get hurt because of me. I’d rather it be me…”

It had been a while since you saw their eyes shift into this particular authoritative glow. Steve almost too roughly cupped your cheeks in his hands as he forced you to look at him.

“Don’t ever think or let us hear you say that again. It’s our job to keep you safe not the other way around. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, I understand.”, you whisper as your hands takes hold of his wrists.

“Y/N, like I said, we care about you but if your safety is on the line BECAUSE of us then we would end this right here right now.”

You pushed down the urge to cry at the thought of them leaving you. They had done so much for you in the short time they had been a part of your team.

“I promise I won’t interfere. I trust you both to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes flick to Eddie’s for a moment before he kisses your forehead and lets you go.

##########

The following Monday, the three of you were sitting in your manager’s office waiting for him as he burst through with Sarah in tow.

“Well, look who decided to finally grace us with her presence. How was the vacation, Y/N?”, Jack sassed. “I don’t know why you two are even here. You’re fired.”, he gestures towards the boys.

“No they aren’t.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I said no they aren’t and you lower your voice when you speak to me!” Sarah smiled from her seat as the men on either side of you contained their excitement for you. “Jack, I’m tired. You were one of the ones that kept pushing me to get sober and now that I’m trying…I shouldn’t be on tour right now especially not with people like Mark shouting at me every 10 seconds. I need time to really have go at this.”

“Y/N…”, he sighed. “We’ve had this tour set up for months. Now I’ve put up with a lot from you but—”

“But nothing. I’m telling you no. I need a break. I can do interviews and keep working on the album. I can do little shows here but I can’t do a country wide tour right now.”

“Y/N, listen to me. Hear me. If you do this, if you cancel this tour, I will be forced to drop you as a client.”

You straighten up as you exhale, tapping into that sassy girl that resides within you.

“So be it. Sarah? Have you thought about being an agent?”

“Me? Oh, um, I mean…”

“You’re honestly the only person I trust who has always had my well-being in mind. I’ll pay you what I pay Jack and then some.”

She smiles as she glances towards your now former agent.

“I guess I just got a promotion.” You both stand, giving her a big hug before she pulls back to cup your face. “I’m really proud of you. I’ll come by later today and we can talk about a statement for the tour.”

“Y/N, please! Don’t do this! Look, why don’t you sit down and we can talk about this rationally.”, Jack begs. As he reaches for your arm to stop you from leaving, Eddie swats it away.

“I’m sorry, sir. You aren’t allowed to touch Miss Y/L/N.”

“But if you would like to speak with her, feel free to call her agent Sarah to set up an appointment.”, Steve grins as they both follow you out of the office.

#############

@rckstrbee @melodymishahiddlestan @strangerfreak

@siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @cositaslua

@munsonmoonshine86 @unfocused81 @paleidiot

@dad-steddie @aol19 @strngrlytn @mrsjellymunson

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vidavalor · 1 month

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A handful of GO/food-related thoughts (66% of which came to me in insomniac semi-sapience at 3am):

1) Would the Ineffable Husbands eat burritos, and what might 'burrito' refer to in their coded language?

2) The rice in sushi is functionally analogous to the bread in a sandwich and now I am flailing about potential implications in relation to your Bread meta

3) You remember the bit in the book about one of the Other Four Bikers disliking anchovies and/or olives on pizza? There's an actual French dish a bit like that! It's called 'pissaladière' (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pissaladi%C3%A8re), it's from the south of France (Nice/Provence sort of area) and it's actually rather yummy! (I made it for supper tonight ^_^) Granted, anchovies can be a bit of an acquired taste

Hi @jotun-philosopher The most sapient thoughts sometimes come in the insomniac semi-sapience at 3am, I find. What cool questions! Some fun with food, sexual euphemisms, and etymology for you. 💕

Burritos: What's extra Good Omens-y about this question, imo, is that "burrito" comes from the Spanish "burro", which means "donkey", so, a burrito is actually a "little donkey" and, by that measure alone, I will say odds are solid that the Ineffable Husbands have eaten burritos lol. That and they've been around forever and have probably eaten most things and burritos are so, so good... You might reasonably ask 'why the fuck is this delicious food named after donkeys?' and the answer is that it's thought to be because a burrito can and does hold so many different kinds of ingredients that it's kind of a "workhorse" of food. It handles so much at once by bringing in so many different nutrients and tastes that it's akin to the "workhorse" of animals, which is a donkey. The show also already aligns Aziraphale with donkeys and actually did so again pretty recently with Shax referring to Aziraphale as an ass and then that the elevator is in the doorway to the pub The Dirty Donkey (which I think we can all agree Crowley named? 😉).

[@procrastiel I saw your tags in my other, more depressing post about Aziraphale & The Dirty Donkey-- I was going for the above, not the more horrifying option. I'm sure you'll be relieved. 🤣]

As for food symbolism in burritos, there's just so many different ingredients, idk... I think they'd make innuendo out of what's ordered to be in the burrito on any given day. I can't imagine one of them not making a hot sauce reference, since sauce and its variety of meanings is a very Ineffable Husbands word and they've used it before in different ways ("gravlax in dill sauce"; "you dip it in soy sauce").

Sushi and Bread: You're right about the rice in sushi being functionally analogous to bread in that it's the starch but I think it's actually the nori or leaves used to wrap the sushi that is technically "the bread" of sushi. (So, on top of there being fish in the sushi, the "bread" is actually seaweed in 1.01... mmm🐟. 😉) But your point that sushi can be seen as a sandwich of sorts? Yes, totally. A sandwich being food between two or more slices of bread (or a stand in for bread that serves the purpose of containing the filling). A person then euphemistically tied to bread is then a person who is a participant in partnered sex. Mrs. Sandwich is "Mrs. Sandwich" because she "makes sandwiches" for other people-- she allocates slices of bread to one another.

The bread itself that has been mentioned so far is also interesting from an euphemistic standpoint. Besides the brioche looked at in Crepes, there's sourdough (mentioned in Lockdown as the only bread that Aziraphale has baked and, um, "has baked" in the last few days) and there's also the first mention of bread in the series... which is from God 😂 when she codes Crowley as black bread in 1.01. The joke there likely being that both sourdough and black bread are examples of the kinds of bread that are made through a process of fermentation-- the same way that alcohol is made-- reiterating alcohol and bread as euphemistic for sex.

Pissaladiere: Thank you for reminding me of it-- it's been ages since I had it and it's very spring. Might need to make one soon. Glad yours was delicious! Just a warning, though: I think Crowley would make you disappear if you ever tried to serve Aziraphale a pissaladiere, though. A French fish-topped tart? There's nary a more Ineffable Husbands dish in existence lol. Pissaladiere rooted from the Latin piscis, meaning "fish" and it reminds me of some wordplay in the show in Aziraphale's entry in 'The Demon's Guide...' that Furfur had in 1941.

The obvious joke with the entries in the guide is that they're supposed to be about angels from the demonic perspective and have to use language that is negative to describe these angels but... this just means it's an excuse for Crowley and Aziraphale to get their 'wily'/'smitten', etc. on and use words that have different, contradictory definitions. Everything in Aziraphale's entry-- that we all agree was written by Crowley (and in what we are shown of the Baraqiel one, that feels very 'written by Aziraphale')-- is actually complimentary or referencing their relationship in the fuller meanings of the words used under the negative connotation on the surface.

One of the descriptive details listed for Aziraphale is "suspishous ears", with an intentional misspelling of "suspicious" to look demonic, right? One of the parts of the wordplay there is that the misspelling is done so as to now include the word "pish"-- a bit of a Crowley & Aziraphale wily/smitten-type of word on a few different levels.

To say something is "pish" is to say that it's something you disagree with and/or that it is disgusting and it took on that meaning largely from being Scottish slang for urine (as it's a near-homophone for "piss"... see also, the British phrase "to take the piss (out of [x])" being to roast someone or something.) This is the negative connotation on the surface but where this is relevant to Crowley and Aziraphale is in the etymology of "pish"...

The word actually formed in the English language as onomatopoeia (words that are formed out of sounds like, among some of Crowley's other mentioned favorites in the show, "frou frou" and "whoop.") Out of what sounds, you ask? The "psshshsh" noises ornithologists and others make to attract small birds.

It's also thought to originate about equally with the bird-attracting sounds from "la peche"... which you'll be unsurprised to learn is the French word for fish.

In Mohegan-Pequot, spoken by the indigenous people of my neck of the woods in New England, and in a couple of other languages, use of "pish" is actually rooted from the English peas.

To have "suspicious ears"-- with "suspicious" spelled correctly-- is to be cautious about who you trust. "Suspishus ears", built to include "pish", then references fish, peas, and nightingales at once and would then be calling Aziraphale a good partner who listens.

A communication breakdown, though-- not listening-- also being a theme in S2 and its "I don't think your exactlys are my exactlys"/"aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear"/"no nightingales" misery...

#ineffable husbands #good omens meta #good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands speak

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