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enwoso · 24 days ago

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victory tastes like… | alessia russo (18+)

honestly got a bit carried away icl.. but this is an 18+, contains top!alessia, bottom!reader, swearing, oral (r receiving) fingering (r receiving) thigh riding (a receiving), dirty talking, a lot of build up, teasing, nipple play? i think, and more. buckle up its a long one:)

masterlist

alessia strides through the afterparty like she owns the night — and maybe she in a way does. a victorious beauty, radiant in the low light, her hair twisted into a messy bun that somehow makes her look even more effortless. her toned legs, on full display in a pair of barely-there denim shorts, catch more than a few eyes. but hers? they were locked on you.

you see her way before she reaches you, that smug, post-win glow clinging to her like perfume. she's flushed from champagne and the high of victory, lips already curled into that cocky grin that never fails to make your knees a little wobbly.

alessia doesn't hesitate, slipping through the crowd of her teammates and family members who are all dancing and singing proudly.

alessia with a predator's grace found you, a colourful cocktail in your hand as you lingered closer to the back of the group as alessia is pulling you into her.

her arm wind tightly around your waist, her body warm against yours, and her champagne flute clinks softly as it brushes your side.

"missed you," she murmurs, it slightly raspy from the amount of singing she'd done throughout the night. her lips skimming your ear, her voice a sultry purr.

you hum a soft laugh, trailing your fingers over the waistband of her shorts, slowly, deliberately your touch featherlight. teasing.

"missed me?" you echo, voice laced with mischief. "you've had your hands all over me all night, less. thought you might've gotten bored by now."

alessia pulls back just enough to give you a look — playful, dangerous. "don't tempt me," she murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips, then lower. "you're the one wearing my shirt, my name on your back, baby. what did you think would happen?"

you tug at the collar of it, smug. "i thought you might behave... at least until we get to the third round of sweet caroline."

alessia laughs, a soft, disbelieving sound, before her fingers slip under the hem, brushing the skin at your hip, nipping slightly. "keep running your mouth, pretty girl," she warns, her tone lazy, almost amused. "see where it gets you."

but you don't take that as a sign to stop if anything it makes you want to continue your teasing all the more. press her buttons more.

you shift closer, pressing yourself into her just a little too innocently, your voice honeyed as you whisper, "you gonna kiss me again, or just keep talking about it?"

her jaw clenches, her grip on your waist tightening. her eyes burn.

"you're such a brat at times," she mutters, but it's affectionate laced with tension. "are you gonna carry on messing about... or are you gonna let me take you upstairs and ruin that little attitude of yours?"

the world spins a little at her words, heat blooming low in your stomach, but you can't help the wicked grin that curves on your lips. "you always talk this big," you say, leaning in until your noses brush, "but yet i'm still here fully dressed..."

that seemed to do it.

alessia exhaled sharply, grabbing your hand in hers, and placed her champagne flute down without looking where it's ended. then she's dragging you out of the function room, ignoring the chorus of laughter and karaoke behind you coming from her teammates.

you keep teasing her, brushing your fingers along the back of her neck in the queue for the lift, leaning in just enough to let your breath tickle her skin. "bet you'd let me make a mess of you right here, wouldn't you?"

you say it soft like it nothing, just to see the flicker, the way her nostrils flare that little bit, the sharp inhale and the way her jaw clicks.

alessia doesn't respond, she knows what your doing and soon enough she knows she going to be able to have her way with you.

and then — the lift doors open.

alessia doesn't even wait for them to close before she's pressing you into the wall, the hand railing close and sharp on your back as one hand braced beside your head, the other tracing slow, promising lines along your waist.

"you've had your fun," she whispers darkly. "now it's my turn."

the lift hums softly, the world shrinking down to just the two of you, breath mingling in the tight space. alessia's lips brush against your jaw, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

alessia steps back just enough to grab your hand, fingers curling possessively around yours as she pulls you through the hallway of the fancy hotel the team was staying in. the noise around you fades, the moment narrowing to the pulse between your bodies.

the door to the room clicks shut behind you, the soft thud sealing off the outside world. alessia's bright blue eyes, darken, fierce and tender all at once as they drink you in—especially the football jersey you're wearing, a match worn one she'd given you from a few games ago. it being a little oversized on you, sleeves loose on your shoulders, the fabric heavy with her scent and the memory of the pitch.

your girlfriend's fingers trace your collarbone as she pushed you against the wall. her hands slipping beneath the edge of the jersey, warm and sure. the contrast of her touch against the rough cotton sends sparks skittering across your skin.

her hand cups the back of your neck, drawing you in until her breath brushes your lips—a low, slow promise that pulls you under.

when alessia's mouth finally meets yours, it's deliberate and searing, every inch of the kiss claiming you. her hand slides from your waist, fingertips ghosting upward, tracing the ribs beneath your shirt, lighting a fire to every nerve.

you press closer, the cool draft from the cracked window mixing with the heat of her body, until the world shrinks to the taut tension between you.

alessia pulls back just enough, breath warm against your mouth. her fingers all over you as they slip lower, tracing slow, tantalising lines along your hip bone, nails grazing just enough to make your nerves hum.

"your so pretty, my love." alessia whispers as her lips follow the path her hands set—along your jaw, the sensitive hollow beneath it. a faint, teasing lick, and you can't stop the sharp inhale that escapes from your lips.

alessia catches it with a low, wicked smile, the heat in her eyes growing. her hands settle firmly on your back, pressing herself impossibly closer.

her breath fluttering across your ear, teeth grazing your lobe, the sensation electric and consuming. slow, teasing kisses trail down your neck, each one a promise, a quiet command. every touch building the tension tighter, winding you both up like a coil ready to snap.

your hands finding her waist, pulling her closer, craving the taut strength beneath her clothes. her eyes lock onto yours, dark and fierce, sliding beneath your shirt once again, her fingers electric as they explore with a hunger that's patient and sure.

her whisper is a thread pulling you deeper: "tell me what you want baby."

you try for something cheeky, a small grin curling your lips, “you, a-always you.” you whine but before you can speak more, alessia silences you—pressing her body harder against yours, her voice low and unyielding.

"soon, baby. i promise but tonight i’m in control."

and in that moment, you head fuzzy from the amount of alcohol consumed and with the way she looked, spoke, moved you. with her hands and lips commanding every inch of you, you knew you wouldn't want it any other way.

the jersey shifts beneath alessia's touch as her hands slide higher, palms warm and steady against your stomach, until the fabric bunches at your ribs. she doesn't rush—there's no need. you're already pliant beneath her, breath coming shallow as the tension winds tighter.

alessia watches your face as she lifts the shirt, slow and deliberate, exposing inch by inch of your skin to the cool hotel air and her burning gaze. when she finally pulls it over your head and tosses it somewhere on the floor, her eyes linger—appreciating, claiming, the corners of her mouth curling like she already knows what you'll be reduced to.

her hands come back to your waist, fingers tracing the waistband of your bottoms, not dipping beneath, not yet—just the steady pressure of promise.

alessia presses forward again, hips against yours, mouth finding the slope of your neck again. each kiss lands heavier now, deeper, wetter, laced with heat and hunger.

you are trembling under her, head tipping back against the wall, exposing your throat, your chest rising and falling faster with every touch.

“le-less please, i-i need you.” you whine as her fingers trail up your side, feather-light over your ribs, then cup your chest through the thin fabric of your bra.

a sharp gasp slips from you before you can catch it—your hips twitching forward instinctively, seeking friction that she refuses to give.

you feel her smirk against your neck. "already falling apart," she murmurs. "i haven't even really touched you yet, my girl."

you let out a soft, helpless sound, somewhere between a whimper and a plea, but it only spurs her on. alessia unhooks your bra with maddening ease, too much ease, dragging the straps down your arms and casting it aside. it landing somewhere.

the air feeling sharp against your skin, your nipples already tight from want and the way her gaze roves over you—hungry, focused, reverent.

alessia kisses her way down, tongue flicking briefly over your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you jerk beneath her hands.

but when her mouth finally closes around your nipple, you arch, a strangled sound leaving your lips as your fingers twist into her blonde hair, desperate for something to anchor you.

“a-lessi—ah—please…”

but she doesn't let you take control. one of her hands clamps over your wrist, pinning it to your side as she works you over. slow, wet licks, lazy drags of her tongue daunting you almost, sucking just enough to make you tremble.

you knees go weak, and she chuckles darkly, guiding you back toward the white linen sheets of the hotel bed with calm authority, until the backs of your thighs hit the edge and you sit without thinking. you're a mess—breathing hard, skin flushed, nerves raw.

the blonde kneels between your legs, hands running slowly up your thighs. her nails scrape lightly through the fabric still clinging to your hips, and you're sure if she asked you for anything in that moment, you'd give it without hesitation.

but she doesn't ask.

alessia watches your face as she peels the rest of your clothes off—deliberate and unhurried, like she’s unwrapping something precious, something she’s earned. her eyes never leave yours, and the heat in them makes your skin flush under the low light.

you lift your hips when she tells you to, the quiet, “up for me, baby,” sending a fresh wave of want rolling through your belly. her knuckles graze teasingly between your legs as she pulls your underwear down, and a high, desperate sound slips from your throat before you can stop it.

“fuck—less…”

she smirks softly. you’re already trembling, thighs twitching under her hands as she kneels between your legs.

she doesn’t touch you where you need it. not yet.

instead, alessia’s palms settle on your inner thighs, spreading you open with gentle pressure. the pads of her thumbs rub slow, possessive circles into your skin, warm and steady, grounding you even as you start to unravel.

you're soaked. you know it. she knows it.

you can’t help it—you whimper, a breathy, broken noise that betrays how close you already are to begging.

“less… please—” your voice cracks, soft and shaking. “d-don’t tease me…”

alessia doesn’t answer—not with words anyway. her breath ghosts over your aching core, warm and maddeningly close, making your hips jerk instinctively toward her.

you let out a strangled moan, high and needy. “god—please, i can’t take it.”

alessia hums, low and deep in her throat, eyes fixed on the slick between your legs like she’s watching something sacred. “you’re dripping,” alessia murmurs, voice rough. “so wet for me, my pretty, girl.”

your head tips back, eyes fluttering shut as you let out a soft, desperate whine. “please—less, i need your mouth, i need—”

her thumbs press in slightly, keeping your thighs open, and she leans in just close enough to brush her nose against your clit without fully touching it.

you gasp, your whole body jerking.

“say it,” alessia says, calm and low. “tell me exactly what you want.”

you’re panting now, thighs shaking under her hands. “i want your mouth—i want your tongue—please, please just—fuck—less, do something—”

alessia finally lets her lips ghost over you, the barest brush of heat and wetness that makes you cry out, sharp and helpless.

“ah—oh my god—yes—yes—”

but she doesn’t stay there. alessia lifts her head again, licking her lips slowly, eyes burning as she watches the way you squirm beneath her.

“not yet,” alessia whispers, voice like velvet and smoke. “i want you to hear you beg a little more.”

she doesn't give you what you so desperately want. not yet. instead she hovers, breath warm against the aching heat between your legs, so close you can feel the way her exhale makes you twitch, your hips lifting involuntarily toward her mouth.

your writhing beneath her, every nerve lit up, skin hypersensitive from how close she’s hovering but refusing to touch you properly. your hands reach for her, one slipping into her hair, the other gripping the sheets hard enough to hurt.

“please…” your voice is barely a whisper, raw with need. “less—fuck—please, i’m going insane…”

alessia doesn’t move. your thighs twitch in her hold, and you lift your hips again, instinctive, desperate. “i need your mouth. i need you, please, i’ll do anything.”

still nothing—just her breath against you, warm and maddening.

you whimper again, louder this time. “i’m so wet for you, it hurts. i can’t take it—i need you, alessia, please touch me.”

you hear your own voice breaking, high and wrecked, and still she just watches you, so calm, so in control. it only makes it worse.

“please,” you beg again, shakier now. “i’ll be a good girl —just please, please, don’t make me wait anymore—”

another quiet, desperate whimper escapes you before you can stop it. alessia's eyes flick up, and her mouth curls into a slow, dangerous smile. "that's better," she murmurs.

then finally, her mouth meets you where you need her most.

the first lick is slow—broad, deliberate. alessia moans low against you, the sound reverberating deep in her throat like she’s finally getting a taste of something she’s been craving for far too long. her mouth is hot, her tongue languid and sure as it slides through you, and you shudder violently, legs falling open wider without resistance.

“fuck,” you whisper, already breathless.

alessia’s hands slide beneath your thighs and hook around, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed, locking you in place. her grip is firm—commanding. there is no escape, not that you want one. alessia groans again, rough and needy, the vibrations shooting straight through your core.

“your mine,” alessia murmurs, voice low and wrecked as she glances up at you. “so fuckin’ pretty like this.”

alessia dips back down, and then she’s everywhere—tongue pressing in slow, languid strokes, tracing every slick inch of you with devastating control. she savors it, each movement precise, almost reverent, like she’s tasting your pleasure more than her own. your hips stutter, but alessia just tightens her grip, nails biting into your skin as she holds you still.

“stay there, baby,” she says, breath warm and ragged against you. “let me take my time.”

your fingers tangle in the sheets, desperate to anchor yourself. then her tongue flicks—quick, teasing, then swirling around your clit with a rhythm that’s maddening in its precision. you choke on a moan, head tossing back, thighs twitching against her shoulders.

“a-alessia—ah—fuck,” you gasp, voice cracking as your fingers leave the sheets and sink into her hair, gripping tight.

alessia groans again, louder this time, the sound guttural and needy. her mouth seals around you, sucking slow and deep, and you swear you can feel her smiling against your skin when you cry out.

“you love this, don’t you?” alessia breathes against your clit. “love being ruined on my tongue.”

you try to answer, to speak, but your body betrays you—all you can manage is a breathless whimper, hips jerking despite yourself. her tongue presses harder, faster, dragging a helpless moan from your lips, your thighs clamping reflexively around her.

alessia doesn’t relent. she keeps going, relentless, confident, mouth working you like she already knows every way to make you fall apart. the wet sounds between your thighs grow louder, matched only by the breathy little gasps and moans slipping freely from both of you. every sound she makes is a praise—raw, wanting, as though alessia’s addicted to the way you taste, the way you move, the way you sound.

“f-fuck—less…” you manage, voice all torn-up desire.

her grip on your thighs tightens again. “i said stay still,” she growls, low and possessive, licking a firm, deliberate stripe that makes your back arch off the mattress. “be a good girl for me.”

then her lips wrap around your clit and she sucks—hard and perfect—and your whole world snaps. your hands fly to her shoulders, grabbing at anything you can, fingers digging in as the tension coils impossibly tight.

“less—oh god, m’ close, i—fuck!”

alessia hums against you, tongue moving faster now, working you through the build with ruthless expertise. she feels it in your trembling thighs, the way your body rocks helplessly into her mouth, chasing every flick and suck like you’re starving for it.

your moans come out broken now—gasping, pleading, babbling messes of her name and barely-formed curses.

alessia’s hands grip harder, anchoring you as your back bows and your whole body strains toward release. you feel the burn rising, unbearable, unbearable—until it’s not.

“let go, baby,” alessia breathes, voice shaking from effort and lust. “let me hear you.”

and when it hits, it’s not soft—it’s a full-body surrender. your mouth drops open in a silent cry, your hips jerk wildly, and your whole body convulses as the orgasm tears through you like a wave. it’s hot, overwhelming, and all-consuming—her name falling from your lips like prayer.

but alessia doesn’t stop.

she licks you through it, slow and thorough, tongue dragging through your wetness like she’s cleaning you up, worshipping every shudder, every twitch. it’s too much. too intense. you whimper, breath hitching as your body trembles uncontrollably.

“mhm s-still sensitive,” you manage to gasp, twitching beneath her.

alessia finally pulls back, mouth slick, eyes dark and glittering with satisfaction. she looks at you like she’s never seen anything more beautiful than the way you’re sprawled on the bed—boneless, ruined, glowing.

“good girl,” she murmurs. “tasted even better than i imagined.”

alessia, licking her lips as she crawls up your body, slow and predatory, and presses her mouth to yours. you can taste yourself on her lips, on her tongue, and it makes your stomach twist with something deeper than lust—something sharp and consuming.

"think you've still got cheek left in you?" alessia murmurs, voice rough with want, hips already settling between your legs again.

you try to answer. but all that comes out is a whimper. and alessia grins. "didn't think so."

but alessia doesn't give you much time to catch your breath.

she stays right there, pressed against you, her thigh sliding between yours, the warmth of her body anchoring you as her mouth finds your throat again—biting gently now, claiming, leaving faint marks she knows you'll feel later.

her hands roaming without hesitation, familiar now in the way they map your body, coaxing little reactions with minimal effort.

your skin is oversensitive, every nerve exposed and raw, but it doesn't matter. you crave more. need more. wanted more. you feel insatiable under her—lit up and stretched thin and so completely hers.

and alessia knows it.

"you're, we’re not done," alessia breathes against your ear, hand sliding between your legs again. "not even close."

your thighs twitch in protest, but your body betrays you—already wet, already eager, already opening up for her again.

alessia kisses the corner of your mouth as her fingers slip through your slick heat, drawing a broken gasp from your lips. you try to lift your hips, but her other hand lands firm on your stomach, pinning you down.

"no," alessia murmurs. "you don't get to chase it. you take what I give you."

the command coils through you like lightning, and you whimper—eyes fluttering shut, breath catching as her fingers circle your clit in slow, maddening patterns. no pressure, not yet. just enough to make your whole body ache with the wanting, once again.

"a-alessia, please-"

alessia watches you unravel beneath her. every twist of your hips, every shaky breath, every bitten-off moan—she drinks it in like fuel.

"you look so gorgeous like this," alessia says, voice rough with arousal. "messy. needy. my name half-stuck in your throat."

you nod, useless, undone.

alessia pushes two fingers into you in one smooth, deliberate motion, and you cry out—hips bucking before her hand on your stomach pushes you back down again.

her rhythm is unrelenting—firm and deep, the heel of her palm brushing your clit with every stroke until you're practically writhing.

your fingers scrabble for something—her arm, the sheets, yourself. you can't hold anything steady. every muscle feels like it's trembling on the edge.

alessia leans in, her voice in your ear, low and deadly calm. "you're gonna cum again for me, my girl. just like this. don't hold it. let go."

you can't answer, not with proper words. just whimpers of her name. all you can do is feel—her fingers curling just right, the tight drag inside you, the steady grind of her hand, the fire building with every second until you're nothing but heat and helpless moans.

"a-ah, oh, less"

it crashes over you like a wave—harder than before. your whole body arches, eyes squeezing shut, mouth open in a desperate cry as the orgasm rips through you, sharp and all-consuming.

alessia doesn't stop right away. she works you through it, again, until your thighs shake and you're gasping and whimpering, begging with no words, just broken sounds and twitching limbs.

finally, finally, alessia slows.

her fingers slipping out of you, wet and shining, and she brings them to her mouth, sucking them clean with a quiet, satisfied hum.

before she crawls up beside you, her body warm against yours, and kisses you deep and slow—like she's sealing something between your ribs.

your legs are still trembling. your breath's ragged. your body feels like it's glowing from the inside out.

alessia smiles against your lips, fingers brushing the sweaty hair from your forehead.

"still think you could handle wearing my jersey again?" alessia murmurs. you manage the softest laugh, eyes half-lidded, voice nothing more than a wrecked whisper.

"only if i survive the night."

alessia doesn't let you drift far. she gives you a moment—just long enough to feel the tremble still working through your thighs, your chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

but her hand never fully leaves your skin. it stays there, splayed possessively across your waist, thumb stroking the curve of your hip in lazy, dangerous circles.

you're pliant beneath her, loose and wrecked, and she loves seeing you like this - maybe more than she would ever admit to anyone.

"look at you," alessia murmurs, her voice thick and low as she presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then down the column of your throat again. "completely fucked out—and i’m not even close to done with you."

the words ignite something in your gut, deep and molten. you shift slightly against her, instinctively seeking friction, heat, more—and alessia laughs, a dark, amused sound that vibrates against your skin.

"oh, you want it now?" alessia teases, hand sliding down to squeeze your thigh, her fingers dragging inward, brushing the oversensitive slick between your legs. "suddenly so greedy."

you try to answer, but the sound that leaves you is more whine than word, like it has been since she's been on top of you. your hand curls into her bicep, nails dragging faint crescents into her skin, but she's not giving you any control, not tonight.

alessia shifts, rising above you—knees straddling your thigh, her own body finally pressing close, and that's when you feel it: how wet she is. even through her shorts, the heat is unmistakable, pressed against your skin like a promise you've been aching for all night.

you glance down, dizzy with want, and catch the sharp smirk on her lips as she leans down, her mouth brushing your ear.

"you feel that?" alessia whispers. "that's what you do to me."

and then she grabs your wrist and drags your hand down between her legs, pushing your fingers hard against the soaked fabric.

"take them off me," alessia growls, voice rough with need.

your fingers shake as you obey, tugging the waistband down her thighs, breath catching when you see how wet she is—slick and flushed and so ready for you.

but before you can touch her, alessia grabs your wrists and pins them to the mattress again, her hips grinding down against your thigh, drawing a low groan from her throat.

"don't get ahead of yourself baby," alessia warns, dragging her wet heat across your skin, letting you feel how much she needs it—how close she is to unraveling, too. "this is still my game. my reward.”

and then she starts to move.

the friction is obscene—her body grinding against your leg in slow, deliberate rolls, the slick slide of her clit against your skin making your whole body tighten all over again. her breath hitches, her fingers tightening around your wrists, and you can feel how close she is to losing it.

but alessia doesn't. not yet.

alessia leans down, mouth finding yours, her kiss hungry now—open and hot and messy, tongue pressing in like she's trying to taste every sound you've made tonight. when she breaks it, her forehead rests against yours, breath mingling, both of you caught in the rhythm of her hips.

you're squirming under her, desperate for her to let you touch, to take, to give her back even a fraction of the pleasure she's given you. but she doesn't loosen her grip. alessia just keeps using you—riding your thigh like it's hers, like you are.

and fuck, you are.

your head rolls back, eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open in a low moan as her pace quickens, her breaths growing shallower.

you can hear the slick drag of her against your skin, feel every tremble as her thighs tighten around yours. "lessi-" you gasp, voice thin and breaking.

"say it again," alessia demands, voice wrecked.

"le-lessi, please”

alessia's right there. you can feel it in the way her rhythm falters, the tremble in her arms, the desperate bite of her teeth into your shoulder as her orgasm rips through her, sudden and intense.

she moans your name like it's the only thing tethering her to the world, her whole body going rigid above you, grinding hard through the aftershocks until she finally collapses against your chest—breathing hard, skin slick, still twitching with the last waves of pleasure.

you were both shaking.

“fuck..that was,, was amazing.”

you lie there in the aftermath, her weight warm and grounding on top of you, your fingers finally freed to tangle in her blonde hair, stroking her back as you come down together.

but even as her breathing evens out, you feel her smile against your skin.

"you're not going anywhere," alessia whispers, already kissing around your skin again. "i'm going to ruin you by morning."

you lie there beneath her, limbs tangled, breath catching in quiet fits as alessia's weight settles over you—warm and solid, grounding.

her skin is damp, her thigh still pressed between yours, but now her hands have softened, brushing slowly up and down your ribs in a soothing rhythm, as if trying to memorise you all over again.

"i love you and, i’m so proud of you, always.” you whisper against her head. but alessia doesn't speak at first. just kisses the hollow of your throat, then your shoulder, then the soft space just above your heart, each one slower than the last. like gratitude. like worship.

"i love you too, my girl. so much.”

and you can't help the way your fingers continue to thread into her hair, gently pulling her closer, keeping her right there.

after a long moment, alessia lifts her head, eyes meeting yours—dark, shining, a little wild still, but soft around the edges now.

"if this is what victory tastes like..." alessia murmurs, voice rough but low, "then i want to win every award possible."

you can feel the smile tug at your lips before you can stop it, the sound that escapes you somewhere between a breathless laugh and a groan.

"that your post-match speech?"

alessia grins, dipping down to press her lips just below your ear. "no, not even close."

and then her mouth is on yours again—slower this time, but no less demanding. her kiss steals your breath, like she's tasting the high of what she just did to you—and already thinking about doing it again.

her hand slides back between your thighs, teasing, coaxing your legs apart like it's second nature. you gasp into alessia's mouth, your whole body still trembling, still so tender and open—but she knows exactly how to touch you now. how to pull you right under again.

you whimper as she slips lower, heat pooling fast in your belly once more.

"i told you," alessia murmurs, voice all gravel and promise as she disappears between you thighs. "we aren't done."

and this time, when alessia's mouth finds you again, you know two things, one that your exactly where you want to be and two that you know exactly how long this night is going to be.

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bratbarzal · 1 month ago

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Sunsets in the Summer (LH43)

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader (a follow up to LIH/TSOU - reading is encouraged but not required to enjoy)

WC: 9.6k

Description/Warnings: some brief snapshots into the LIH!lovers second summer together while they figure out their flow as a couple - fluffy, suggestive interactions and mentions of sexual acts (including some brief hand action but not a detailed description) with fade-to-black smut, no angst!! hallelujah (some brief insecurity but not expanded on enough to be angsty), usual amounts of sarcasm and banter and cursing probably- rushed tbh so doesn't flow too well but I think it's cute lmao

A/N: I WAS GOING TO QUEUE THIS TO POST WHILE I'M AWAY IN A COUPLE OF WEEKS BUT IT IS MEG'S BIRTHDAY SO I PUT MY ASS TO WORK TO GET THIS DONE!!! PURE FLUFFY BLISS FOR THE ICON THE LEGEND AND THE MOMENT HERSELF!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY @star2fishmeg I LOVE YOU A LOT HOPE YOU HAVE YOUR DOLLS TO HAND AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY!! (if anyone reading this hasn't already send your love to meg bc she deserves it!! from the day I posted LIH part 1, she's been nothing but supportive and wonderful to me, and 3 seconds on her page will show you she's one of the kindest-natured and most wonderful people on here)

I had a couple requests for Luke and LIH!reader's first proper date, and one that was for how they spend their summer, so I sort of combined them to create this, it's a bit of an unstructured jumble of little moments between them, but I hope you guys don't mind it turned into a hybrid of requests! If you do want me to write individual moments feel free to send in another request, I don't really ever want to let these two go!! But to answer the question about their first date specifically - I genuinely think they just jump right into cutesy/dorky date nights, and Luke would eventually deep that they haven't done anything ~grown together - which is where the idea for the end of this really came from 💕

It doesn’t take long for you and Luke to get into a routine once you’ve come back out to Michigan in the summer.

You spend most of your days together - aside from when he’s at a check up or a physio appointment, or you’re out with Ellie or a few of your other friends still lingering in the area - and end up back in the same place every night - curled up against Luke’s good side in bed, your leg slung over his, and your face smushed into his peck by the time you wake in the morning.

Except for the few times he’s up before you.

Like now, when your eyes flutter open slowly to an empty space beside you.

His pillow is a little crinkled, his sheets are haphazardly straightened back out, and the spot where he had been laid is still warm - so you know he can’t be far.

After relieving your bladder and brushing your teeth, you slip into a shirt he had strewn across the chair of the little vanity he had set up for you, letting it fall to the top of your thighs as you amble throughout the house with little regard for anyone else you might bump into.

You sort of have a one-track mind when it comes to mornings with your boyfriend, and you honestly forget to consider who might not want to catch a slight glimpse of your ass cheeks so early in the day.

You find him in the kitchen, as assumed, and you almost think you’re half asleep when you take in the state of him.

His hair is a soft but unruly mess, and his briefs are so barely pulled up you can almost see his ass cheeks - as perfect as they are - the structured muscles of his back almost forming an arrow to point down, and you can only see those muscles because he’s for some reason wearing one of your shirts. How he got that on, unassisted, with the sling, you’ll never know.

You’d laugh if it wasn’t so hot - if the fabric wasn’t stretched so tight across his broad shoulders that it makes him look even thicker.

And because you can’t laugh, you pretty much groan as you draw in on him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and pressing your face into his back.

“Morning, baby,” he drawls, his voice raspy and low, and good god, you’re fighting to consider the fact you aren’t alone in the house. You’d climb him like a god-damn tree already if you were.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his spine, your palms flat in the strip of stomach between your top and his briefs, and his skin is so warm you want to keep your hands there forever.

“Making you breakfast,” he says, wriggling a little out from your embrace so that he can show you - two slices of toast with unevenly chopped banana, and an adorable, crooked smiley face drawn on each one with honey.

You love him so much.

It must slip out without you even realising it because he turns in your hold, his free hand travelling slowly down your body until it lands at your hip and pull you flush to his, and he tells you that he loves you too.

He leans down for a kiss - sugary sweet, like he’d licked his fingers or something from the syrupy residue of honey on them - and you lean into it, revelling of the feeling of his large hand slowly curling around the back of you, fingers curling around the globes of your ass and squeezing.

And you let him turn the two of you until the base of your spine is pressed back into the counter, your hands running through his unruly curls and your tongue chasing more and more of the sweetness of his kiss.

“People eat in here,” you hear Jack as he steps into the kitchen, and you part from Luke slowly, slipping another peck against his lips before you glance around his slinged-shoulder at his older brother.

“What do you think we’re doing?”

You don’t even intend the double entendre, but seeing his face curl up in disgust almost makes it worth it.

“Too early for your crap, dude,” Luke huffs, his hand still in place, and you see him wince when he cranes his neck back.

“What is this, Freaky Friday?” Jack snorts as he opens the fridge, nodding towards the two of you and your weird clothes-swap mishap.

You bite your tongue to stop yourself mocking him straight back, and Luke spares you a knowing look as he waits for Jack to get what he assumes is the greek yoghurt he usually has for breakfast and go back upstairs.

He’s been getting on your last nerve all week, and he knows it.

Ellie is away on another family vacation, already, and you’re pretty sure Jack has formed an alliance with Quinn to cock-block you and Luke to fill his time, but you’re hardly gonna point the finger.

You’re trying to be better.

“Freaky Friday is where they swapped lives, not clothes.”

“You knew what I meant,” Jack huffs, slamming the fridge closed behind him and glaring at the two of you as he grabs a spoon out of the cutlery drawer for his yoghurt. “You look like a dork.”

“You-,”

And Luke’s hand on your ass squeezes before you can carry on, like a warning.

“Don’t you all have training this morning?”

“Gonna be leaving in ten,” Jack confirms, “So if you two could maybe wait until we’re gone to be gross, we’d all appreciate it.”

You press your lips together, a sardonic smile flashed toward him when he smirks over at you, and you watch as he retreats - the tension only seeping from your shoulders when he’s out of sight and out of mind.

“Maybe that can be our thing,” Luke leans forward and mumbles into the curve of your neck, just low enough for the sound not to travel in case Jack is still around, and the combination of his hand grazing the soft flesh of your thigh beneath the hem of his t-shirt, and the way his lips just brush the sensitive skin below your ear makes your breath hitch in your throat. “Freaky Fridays,”

Your eyes flutter shut as you shudder against his him, “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about swapping clothes?”

“We could have a fuck-it list,” and you can hear the smirk without even opening your eyes to look at him, “Cross off all sorts of positions while everyone’s out training on Friday mornings,”

“You’re not gonna be in that sling forever, babe,” you chuckle, finally looking up at him craning your neck a little due to the proximity, and he stays leaning, your nose almost bumping his where he’s in the same position. “You’re gonna end up joining them at some point.”

“All the more reason for us to get started immediately,” his eyes glimmer with mischief when you meet them, “No time to waste.”

You can’t even bring yourself to fight it when he’s looking at you like that - all charming and intentional - not that you want to, anyway. You’re not oblivious to how weirdly fortunate the two of you are to be in this situation, as much as his injury was upsetting at first. It’s the only reason you have so much alone time with him, even this early in the summer.

And you’ve been limited thus far - the start of your relationship being a little jumpy between the end of his season, the end of your school year, and everything that followed with his injury and you going back home. You’ve barely had the opportunity to bask in the honeymoon period - especially now that you’re at the house and his brothers are around.

“Fine,” you acquiesce, “Fuck it.”

The two of you barely make it the promised ten minutes before he’s propped up against the headboard of the bed you now share, and you’re straddling his lap - following the seams of his sling along his chest with kisses that make his spine tingle, and he’s listing off all the positions he says he’s wanted you in since you first hooked up last year.

While the two of you slowly work your way through Luke’s Fuck-It List - a little limited when it comes to his current lack of mobility - you also make more of an effort to do things just the two of you.

It starts with movies, because of course it does, and Luke insists you go to watch them at the actual movie theatre. You share a bucket of popcorn, and you rest comfortably under his arm slung over your shoulders, and it all feels so normal and right.

And you do that a couple of times before you decide to switch it up a bit. If you’re going to be making the conscious effort to start up date nights, you should really be trying out different things, you think.

Which is what has you sat behind the wheel of Luke’s BMW and driving him to an undisclosed destination, drowning out his constant questions about it by turning the radio up, and singing along to his country music playlist he’s been forcing on you for too long, now.

You’re quite proud of this idea for a first attempt, and you can’t help but glance over to gauge his reaction when you pull up to the venue and put the car into park. He’s quiet as he works his way out of the car, still insistent on being a gentleman and opening your door despite his shoulder.

“Mini golf?” He asks as he helps you out of the car, his fingers interlacing with yours as you hit the gravel and bump the driver’s side door shut with your hip. “This is your genius date idea?”

“You said you felt left out at the course,” you pout, sidling up beside him until you’re pressed together, craning your neck up a little to meet his eye, “I wanted to give you the next best thing while you’re still in the sling.”

“I’d still need two working arms for a putter, babe,” he chuckles, lifting his arm over your head with your hand still in his until it’s wrapped around your shoulder, your hips bumping as you walk side by side up to the kiosk.

“You could beat me with no arms and a blindfold, I’m pretty sure,” you tell him, “But if you want to go somewhere else we can, I just thought this would be cool. It’s nice out tonight, and I don’t think there’s any chance of your brothers gatecrashing.”

Luke hums, leaning a little to press his lips to the side of your head, “It is nice to get out from under Quinn’s supervision,” he agrees, and you smile up at him when you register the levity of his tone. “Can barely look at you without him having something to say about it.”

“Imagine the scandal if you knocked me up at mini golf,” you gasp, and he gives one of those easy, heart warming laughs that almost make you stumble in your step. “We might have to fake a scare, just to send him into cardiac arrest.”

“You’re evil.”

“You’re the one who loves me,” you shrug, reaching into your back pocket for your phone when you reach the cashier, keeping a hold of Luke’s good hand despite him trying to pull it away so he can’t sneak his own card forward to pay. The teenager behind the counter hands over two putters and two balls without even glancing up from his own phone, and you twirl out from under Luke’s arm, pulling him up the path toward the start of the course.

“You gonna let me stand behind you and tell you what to do?” He asks as he follows you, smiling despite the fact you’re facing away from him at the quick burst of laughter you release.

“When have I ever let you tell me what to do?”

“Was worth a try,” and he’s still smiling, big and broad, when you swivel back on your heels to face him. You drop his hand to give the putter over, and throw the balls down onto the start of the first hole, kicking one onto the line and the other off to the side.

“I’ll tell you what,” you look up at him as you step closer, “Why don’t we make things interesting?”

“Interesting, how?” He smirks, a teasing tilt of his head causing your lips to twitch up.

“I don’t know,” you hum, edging just a little more toward him, “Winner gets-,”

“Head,” he finishes, almost immediately, and your eyes widen in response, hardly expecting the speed in which it comes out of him. It’s not exactly like the two of you haven’t been intimate back at the house - you’re making steady progress with the list - but there is the whole hardly ever alone thing to consider. “In the car, so no one back home can interrupt.”

“That was quick,” you snort, pressing your fingertips into the flat surface of his belly, avoidant of his sling, feeling the ridges of definition beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. “You’ve been giving that a lot of thought, huh?”

“Got a lot to time to think when we’re in the car and I’m not the one driving,” he explains, “Don’t have to focus on the road, so I get to look at you,” he coos, craning his neck a little and seemingly pushing past the slight discomfort when he does so, dipping to your level, “Get to think about your pretty mouth when you’re singing along to the radio.”

And it makes your spine tingle, just how easy it is to slip in a sweet observation with something so forward. He’s so good at doing that - masking burning desire with gentle adoration.

“Fine, winner gets head,” you agree, extending onto your tiptoes to make closing the distance easier, and softly pecking at his waiting lips until you part with a teasing smile, because kissing him seems so much more efficient than a handshake to seal the deal.

“Beauty before brains,” he offers, pointing to the starting line with his putter and quickly avoiding your attempt at a playful shove.

You step up, anyway.

The first hole is an easy one, although you know from past experience at this exact course - a favourite amongst your sorority sisters for bonding activities - that there’s a trick to a good shot.

The last time you were here, you figured out that aiming for one of the stones that line the green is the key to a hole in one - and you shoot your shot with ease, the ball ricocheting off the surface and making its way straight to the desired target. All you can do is watch with a smile.

“Oh my God,” he groans, staring wide eyed as the ball putts and drop into the hole with an almost comical plonk, “You’re hustling me!”

“Who, me?” You gasp, feigning offence with a slacked jaw and widened eyes - both of which do little to hide the smile that’s twitching at the corners of your mouth. “I’d never.”

You bite your lip in amusement as he stands there, his gaze lingering on the course like he can’t quite believe you just potted a hole in one, already, and you amble up beside him, curling a hand around his free bicep and leaning up.

“You want me to stand behind you and tell you what to do?”

“You’re going down,” he scoffs, shrugging you off to tee himself up at the starting line.

“No, baby,” you call out, pointing your putter over to him as he looks back at you, his own pretty lips parted in defiance as you wink and tell him, “You are.”

You think it’s sort of embedded into the very fibres of your relationship that you and Luke will always resort back to movies - and for as much as you’ve been trying other options for dates, like the arcade where he thrashed you at air hockey, or the trips to the mall, where Luke thought buying one thing from each joint in the food court would be a good idea and you had to drive home with your jeans unbuttoned from the bloating - so it’s no surprise when the weather’s acting up, and you still don’t really like venturing out anywhere during a storm, Luke has the genius idea to finally sit you through the entire Star Wars movie franchise, beginning to end.

It’s something you’ve been putting off for a while, and it’s not that you’re against it, per se, but the thought of having to dedicate the brain power to remembering a bunch of random stuff almost gives you a headache.

The two of you are just settling in together on the couch, practically knotted up like pretzels with the way you’re snuggling up to him, when Jack and Quinn return from the store with Cole Caufield in tow.

“Sick, it’s like a home theatre in here,” Cole exclaims as he leads Quinn and Jack into the room, the eldest sibling biting back a knowing smile when he meets Luke’s horrified gaze, “What are we watching?”

“We’re not watching anything,” Luke gestures between the lot of them with his good hand around your shoulder, before he angles his head down toward you, “We’re watching Star Wars.”

“Prequels first?” Jack gasps as he reaches for the case by the TV, flashing the cover back over to you, “That’s not okay.”

“Good thing you’re not the one watching, Jack,” Luke argues back, and he visibly loses the will to argue when all three of them sink down onto the remaining couches and seemingly get comfortable. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s raining out, Luke, what else are we supposed to do?”

“Literally anything, anywhere else?”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, cozying up a little extra, because it sort of works in your favour to have them insert themselves into this situation. “They’re right, we can’t hog the TV.”

“Yeah, Lukey, you can’t hog the TV.”

You roll your eyes and ignore Jack, settling back into Luke’s side and absentmindedly stroking at his belly as the movie tees up - and what starts off as unintentional, innocent petting, slowly drifts as time ticks on.

“What are you doing?” Luke whispers covertly, eyes stuck on the screen as your fingers trace along the bare skin that is revealed between his hoodie and his sweats, scratching softly until you can move the elastic a little to unveil more of his hipbone.

You know you shouldn’t tease him - but your whole plan to get out of sitting through Star Wars in the first place was to try and distract him - and the only thing you can think of that’s worse than sitting through all three prequels is sitting through them with his brothers around.

“Just touching,” you whisper back innocently, nails tickling at what you know is very sensitive skin.

“You’re teasing,” he corrects you, a quick flash of a knowing gaze sent down at you, but his hips still shuffle beneath your touch - like he’s giving you further access - and your lips twist at the movement.

There are telltale signs of arousal - sharp intakes of breath when your touch travels a little too low to be innocent, the constant rolling of his neck and shoulders like he’s trying to keep his head in the game, and, obviously, a shift in the front of his sweatpants, a subtle, gradual tent forming beneath the fabric that becomes harder and harder to ignore, no pun intended.

“You don’t seem to mind.”

Luke sighs as he shuffles again, his eyes darting to where his brothers and Cole sit on the other couches, making sure none of them are looking before he looks back down at you.

Your eyes lock on his as you bite back a smile - a wordless agreement between you both taking place, and you wriggle up a little, yourself, from where you’re situated against his side - high enough that you can sort of cover the movement of your hand with the rest of your body, and press a firm kiss the the sharp line of his jaw.

He can’t help the satisfied hum that comes out when your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his pants, edging down slowly, and it only takes a second to realise he isn’t even wearing underwear.

You try not to giggle into his flesh, nipping playfully as you move in your ministrations.

He probably had no intention of sitting the whole way through Star Wars, himself - not tonight, at least.

“Who’s teasing now?” You barely even make a sound, so close to his ear that you don’t need to and he can make out what you’re saying, “Commando, Luke, really?”

He smirks, and you see the smile settle as he stays looking forward.

“You get handsy when you’re bored.”

“Oh, now I’m predictable?”

He glances down before he meets your eye again, quirking his brow in a wordless response, as if to say, am I wrong?

And the only way to bite back a scoff is to kiss him - a kiss that starts out soft and subtle, but escalates before you even realise. His palm caresses your cheek, long, slender fingers tucking your hair behind your ear, your hand is down his pants, and your tongue is in Luke’s mouth, his soft lips closing around the muscle until the sloppy sound of him sucking on it is too loud to mask.

And then you’re knocked out of your reverie with a harsh smack of a pillow against your back - the two of you darting apart and your hands slipping out from under his waistband.

“What the fuck?” Luke whines, and you both glare in the direction of the other three guys in the room - the three guys you, honestly, shamefully forgot were even there for a second.

“Knock it off, you’re being gross.” Jack frowns, leaning differently in the absence of a cushion behind him.

“Yeah, keep it PG, you two,” Quinn adds, “I’m under strict instruction to keep an eye on you both.”

“Ew,” you frown, “It’s giving Peeping Tom.”

“No, it’s not,” he scoffs, despite the way Luke snorts out laughter from beside you, “It’s giving responsible older brother.”

“It’s giving dude who isn’t getting laid,” Cole chimes in, and you and Luke simultaneously hum in agreement just to annoy Quinn even further.

If they’re all going to intrude on your date night, the two of you may as well have your fun with it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Quinn turns his attention to the blonde currently lounging back into the opposite couch, “Do you want to sit here all night and witness those two swapping spit and getting handsy?”

“I can think of worse ways to spend my Friday,” Cole shrugs, and the rest of you all let out some form of grossed out exclamation - Luke shuffling out from beneath you to throw the pillow back in his general direction - watching as it smacks straight against Cole’s face and cuts off whatever the hell he’s about to add onto that about you.

“We’re going upstairs,” Luke huffs, pushing himself up off the couch and grabbing your hand - and you don’t put up any sort of protest, obviously,letting him drag you behind him as he throws out a, “You’re on a 24 hour timeout from even looking at my girlfriend,” he jabs a pointed finger towards Cole, and you bite back a smile at how hot you find his possessiveness - a trait he so rarely lets take over, but you can’t help but get excited when he does.

And as gross as the thought of Caufield watching you was - and as much as you sort of know he’s joking - you’re honestly thankful, because Luke isn’t the kind of guy to let that slide when you’re both safe behind the closed door of your shared bedroom, and he’s pushing you back onto the bed before you even have a chance to think about it.

“Are you done yet?”

“Almost.”

You watch Luke’s tongue poke out of his mouth in concentration as he dramatically swipes the paintbrush against the canvas you set up for him earlier - the bare back of which has been taunting you for at least fifteen minutes since you finished your own portrait.

Tiktok said this would be cute.

Painting each other as you share a pizza and sip at what is quite honestly a borderline undrinkable glass of wine - you won’t be trusting Luke on a liquor store run ever again.

But you probably overestimated your creative abilities.

Your portrait of Luke looks like a haunted blob of sickly pale skin and messy brown curls, and the longer he takes to paint you, the longer it stares back at you and you hate it.

He’s gonna hate it - and what was supposed to be a sweet, stay-at-home date idea, turned into something stupid.

You feel stupid, and maybe it’s the extra fifteen minutes he’s spent perfecting his creation that’s making you feel worse.

“It isn’t being hung in the Louvre, Luke,” you roll your eyes, leaning forward onto the table with your chin tucked in the clammy palm of your hand.

“That’s what you think,” he snorts, finally laying the brush flat on the surface beside his easel and tilting his head to peak at you from the side. “I’m finished.”

“Okay, who’s going first?”

“Uhh,” he narrows his eyes at his own work before they flick back up to meet yours, “You first,”

And you can’t help but pout a little as you grasp at either side of the canvas, fingers clenching a little as you build up the nerve.

“I’m not an artist, okay,” you glance over at him, a begging look in your like a silent plea to take it easy on you, “It isn’t the best.”

“Baby,” he pouts back, “You could have smeared your boogers on there and I’d love it.”

“That’s disgusting,” you cringe, but the sentiment sort of helps you build up the courage to flip your easel around, wincing as you watch and wait for his reaction.

He stares at it for what feels like a whole minute, gaze going side to side and up and down like he’s taking in every single brushstroke, and you find yourself holding your breath in anticipation of his feedback.

“Do I have a lazy eye?”

“What? No,” you frown, quickly swivelling it back to take another look. His eyes are a little crooked - you’re drinking wine, you're bound to have a shaky hand - but you wouldn’t call them lazy. “Is it that bad?”

“It's no worse than mine," he snickers, pushing his chair back and nodding his head to the side of him - a gesture for you to come over, and when you do, and you're stood before him, he parts his legs for you to perch yourself on one of his thick, muscular thighs.

You circle your arms around his neck, trying to balance yourself and ignore the heat in his gaze when he watches you do such a mundane and routine thing, his hands gripping at your waist to help you.

“See,” he nods toward the painting, “I’d personally hang it on our wall but I think it’s obvious why.”

Despite the fact you don’t think you’ll ever get over him referring to anything in this house as part-yours, you manage to gloss over that small fact when you take in the monstrosity in front of you.

It’s so bad your jaw drops a little, and you try not to outwardly laugh to avoid offending him.

“Luke-,”

“Before you start-,”

“You started with my boobs didn’t you!” You accuse, swatting playfully at his chest as you let a smile overcome you.

“What?” He scoffs, “No, why would you think that?”

“They’re huge,” you snort, shuffling a little on his lap as he steadies you with a hand on your hip, “It’s like you painted them too big and ran out of room for everything else.”

You watch as a soft flush spreads across his cheeks, sheepish and self-conscious as he casts a glance back over his painting whilst trying to ignore your own eyes on him. His face scrunches a little, crinkles forming around his eyes and nose as he really takes in the lack of proportion, and you can’t help but smile at how cute he is.

“Alright, maybe I did,” he pouts, “Is that so bad?”

“I look like a balloon animal!”

“It is a little disproportionate,” he admits, his bottom lip jutting out in a way that makes you want to kiss it, and you roll your eyes to fight the urge. “We should have done naked paintings, then I’d be winning.”

“You wanna draw me like one of your French girls?” Your tone is still sultry as you mock him, and watching the slow, suggestive curve of his lips does little to fan out the flames of attraction in the pit of your belly. He’s so pretty, it’s stupid - especially up close, and that’s after you’ve spent the past 30 minutes glancing up at him to try and do justice to all the intricate, beautiful parts of his face with a cheap paint set and a brush that was falling apart.

No wonder you were so insecure about your attempt.

You don’t think there’s even a colour you could mix that would capture the unique hue of his irises - a soft combination of maybe blue, maybe green that you can’t even begin to think where you’d start when it came to creating it, yourself. And the smattering of little freckles and beauty marks that litter his skin - you’d never quite map that constellation correctly. The soft curl of his hair, the smooth curve of his lips, the unwavering dedication he has to whatever the hell is growing below his nose - you wouldn’t get it right in a million years.

Maybe him painting you as 70% boobs and 30% everything else is the better picture overall.

“Nah,” he smiles soft, his gaze drifting around your own face like he’s thinking the same thoughts - lingering on your mouth a little too long before he says, “Do wanna take you upstairs, though.”

You smile, too - easy and unwavering - and you feel a familiar heat creep up your neck before you press your lips to his in a slow, amorous kiss.

His knee bounces in a quick jolt as he responds, his hand rising to cup your face and hold you against him, mouth moving until his tongue swipes against the seam of your lips, deepening the moment into something neither of you would want to retreat from.

You honestly can’t remember life before he kissed you like this - how you ever even lasted a day of denying your feelings for him, because you don’t think you could ever love anyone like you love Luke.

It’s something that seems to consume you, regardless of where you are - whether it’s painting stupid portraits together or it’s watching movies or it’s sitting out on the deck chairs on the back porch and talking to his brothers - just his presence, just knowing he’s close by and the way he feels about you is exactly the same settles you beyond what you can put into words.

“Jesus Christ-,”

You both groan in frustration as you part, turning to glare at Jack as he interrupts you, the kitchen door swinging closed behind him.

“Quinn, they’re at it, again!” He calls out, lips curled in disgust as he makes his way over - empty beer bottles stuffed between his fingers that he throws into the recycling with a clink.

You don’t want to move from Luke’s lap, so as Jack nears the table, you don’t even think to get up - despite the fact that he’s heading straight for the painting you really don’t want to hear his criticisms of.

“How cute!” He coos, but you can see straight through him - his lips curling into a borderline sinister smile as he picks up the little canvas. “She even got your lazy eye, Lukey!”

“I knew it!” Luke gasps, his fingers squeezing at your sides, teasingly.

“Hey!” You shoot up, reaching over the table and snatching it from his grip before turning to your boyfriend. “I did not give you a lazy eye!”

“Did he paint that zit that’s coming in right there,” he points to his temple as his eyes narrow your way - and event though you know you don’t have a zit coming in, you bring your hand up to cover the side of your face, anyway.

“She doesn’t have a zit,” Luke defends you before you can do it, yourself, and your features soften just a touch when you glance his way.

“Let me see-,”

Jack reaches out for Luke’s painting, and the two of you leap forward to yank it away before he can get his hands on it, yelling out, “No!” In unison.

“It can’t be that bad, Luke,” he snorts, eyes narrowing on you in particular as your cheeks burn with embarrassment - it’s not like they’re your actual boobs, and it’s not like they’re even anatomically accurate, but you don’t want Jack of all people seeing you portrayed like that. “Mom kept your paintings on the fridge at home until like two years ago, I know you’re a shitty artist.”

“M’not a shitty artist,” Luke grumbles, specifically turning to you as you both still clutch one hand each at the canvas.

“I know, baby,” you coo, your tone overtly-sweet and sickly in a bid to make Jack’s stomach turn - and make him go away, “Don’t listen to Mr. Meany, he doesn’t get you like I do,” and then you lean back in to kiss him, your pout turning into a grin when you hear his brother’s exaggerated gagging from the other side of the table.

“You both make me sick,” he huffs as you hear him leave, and you and Luke resume your previous position, fingers loosening on the painting until it drops to the floor. His hands clutch at your hips, and yours move to settle on the broad expanse of his chest to balance yourself a little better, shuffling until you’re straddling his lap - and still so consumed by your love for him that you couldn’t care less who else might end up disrupting you.

“We could rent some bikes?”

Luke’s suggestion comes out in a muffled yell, his head half in a large storage box in the garage as he roots around for god-knows what, and you perch yourself on the workbench by the side while you wait for him.

The two of you have been trying to figure out how to spend the day together - the other boys having taken the boat out with their friends - so many friends that there wasn’t space for you to tag along and Luke didn’t want to leave you behind on your own.

It’s beautiful out, and you had wanted to go out on the boat, so everything else seems dull in comparison.

A trip to the mall is a waste of the sunshine, even though you sort of want to visit the bookstore, and spend hours just walking around and holding Luke’s hand, and going to the park just seems boring, even if you do rent some bikes while you’re there. It would get tiring pretty quick, and as much as you think you could spend time doing nothing with Luke and still be happy, you sort of had your heart set on something else.

“I don’t know if I trust you not to fall off,” you tell him, swinging your legs as you place your palms flat on the surface, leaning forward to try and get a look at what on earth he’s doing. “What are you even looking for in there?”

“I’ll tell you when I find ‘em,” he mumbles, and you roll your eyes, looking around the rest of the garage and waiting for an idea to spark.

“What about that boat?” You point to the smaller vessel, covered in a faded tarp and perched on a rusted trailer.

It’s a lot smaller than the other boat the boys take out - probably fits two or three people, max, from what you can see of it, and a lot older, too - but if it gets you out on the water with Luke, and you can lay beside him as it sways on the tranquil water, skin to skin while the sun shines down on you - it’ll do.

“That’s Quinn’s,” Luke tells you as he retreats from the box, putting the lid back in place before he moves on to the next one down. “I’ve been explicitly told that if I touch it, I die.”

“Why does Quinn have his own boat?” You ask, jumping up and stepping towards it.

“Don’t know,” Luke calls a little louder, knowing you’re further away without even checking, like he has an instinct for where you are at all times. “Came home one summer and it was just in our parent’s garage, Dad said if he didn’t move it, it was getting sold, so it just sits in here.”

“And he doesn’t use it?”

“Can’t,” Luke shrugs, “I’m pretty sure it’s written off, I think it was just a project to keep him busy when he was injured or something, he hasn’t touched it in a while.”

“Why doesn’t he sell it, then?”

“Don’t know, not his keeper, babe,” Luke’s voice is a little clearer, now, and you crane your neck back to see him standing up straight, a pair of old rollerblades in his hands and a big grin on his face. “I could teach you to skate?”

You gasp as you make your way back over, “Are they my size?”

“They used to be mine, so they might be a little long, but we can pad your feet up with socks.”

“Is it the same as skating on the ice?”

“The mechanics are pretty much the same,” Luke shrugs, handing you the rollerblades so he grab some of the pads that were in the box with them and close it back up, “But if you master this, we’ll get you some actual skates, and I’ll take you down to the rink to teach you.”

Ice skating is never something you’d considered before - even when you would watch Luke play, the thought of it was always daunting - but since the start of summer, you sort of like learning all the stuff Luke knows or loves. You like watching him play golf, like listening to him nerd out about his historical movies, like playing chess for some reason, as dorky as that is, and you even enjoyed Star Wars when the two of you managed to sit down together and watch all of the films - and skating seems like the final boss, in a way.

It’s exciting, like the last piece of a puzzle.

“Might have to get your dad to teach me,” you suggest, “You fall too much for me to learn from you.”

He teasingly swats at your ass with a pad, and you snort out a laugh when you see the amusement shining in his pretty eyes, leaning up when he bends a little to kiss you chastely.

“It’s part of the Hughes charm,” he mutters just after your lips part, “You’ll fit right in.”

And you try to ignore the way your heart hammers at the thought of fitting right in with the Hughes clan in a way you never really did with your own. Despite your previous problems with Jack, and despite Quinn’s newfound hobby for cockblocking you all summer, you honestly think they’re accepting of you too.

And that’s without taking into account Luke’s parents, who welcomed you back to Michigan with open arms, even if your place in Luke’s life wasn’t this solid the last time they saw you last summer.

For the first time in your life you do fit right in, and you’d be doing yourself a disservice to deny it.

You’d be doing Luke one, too.

So all you can do is smile as he leads you out into the driveway, and he sets up a little course for you to practice your skating - cones and obstacles that you do your best not to trip and stumble over, but when you do, he picks you straight back up, dusts you off, and lets you go again.

He’s patient, and he’s gentle, just like he’s always been with you, and if this is what it’s like to be a Hughes, - and as crazy as it sounds considering how fresh your relationship still technically is - you have a fleeting thought that one day you’d want to be one, for real.

“Do you think Jersey’s nicer than New York?”

You’ve been an anxious mess for the entire week before you and Luke flew out to stay with your mom - irritable and snippy and emotional - but now that you’re here, things seem to have settled.

It’s only a long weekend - three days and you can go back to the safety and security of the lake house, with the rest of the summer ahead of you and every passing day having you fall more and more in love with Luke Hughes - and your mom is actually being good company for once.

She’s present, having taken time off of work to make sure she’s around to properly acquaint herself with the first boyfriend you’ve ever brought home, and she’s sober, and she’s actively trying to get to know him.

The two of them have pretty much ticked off every other topic of conversation by the time she gets to your big move, and you can’t even let yourself stress about it.

You’re sat in between Luke’s legs on a chair out in the backyard, your stomach full of barbecue food, a cold bottle of beer gripped between your fingers, and your back pressed firmly to his chest, and there’s no way you think you even could still feel anxious in such a position.

Luke somehow manages to rinse those feelings straight out of you with just one touch.

For as much grief as your mom gave you when you first came home at the beginning of summer, you think your time away might have calmed her about the whole NYU thing - and maybe seeing you with Luke, seeing how sturdy and serious the two of you are, is quelling her fears, too.

“I mean I haven’t lived in New York, so I might not be a fair judge on that,” he chuckles, “But I like it. Feels a lot more relaxed, I think.”

“And you live with your brothers?”

“Just one of ‘em,” he says, “Jack, he plays on the same team as me,”

“So the two of you won’t be moving in with each other,”

“Mom,” you cringe, rolling your eyes at her even asking such a question when you’ve literally sat her down and talked her through your shared housing options.

“Not yet,” Luke says, easily, and you turn back a little at how casual he sounds about it.

The two of you haven’t really talked about it - not in depth, at least. He has no intentions of moving out of his and Jack’s place, as far as you know, and you’re definitely not moving in - the lake house during summer is bad enough in his brother’s company, no matter how civil the two of you have become.

“Not yet?”

“Well, it isn’t not ever,” he snorts, “I think we’re quite good at living together, I’d like to do it again. Would much rather live with you than live with Jack for the rest of my life.”

As if it’s that simple. The rest of his life.

“She’s a great cook,” your mom chimes in, like he needs her making a pros list. “And she always picks the nicest smelling detergent for laundry, I always get compliments on my uniform at work.”

“Mom,”

“She never forgets anything from the store, either, even when it’s not in her notes,” Luke adds - because clearly he already has a list. “Like I’ll be cursing myself thinking it’s too late to let her know we don’t have salsa, and I forgot to tell her in the first place, but she always remembers anyway."

“Oh my god-,”

“Exactly!”

And Luke’s arms tighten around you, a teasing embrace that you don’t really want to shake, not now, not ever. “If she’ll still have me by then, I think we’d revisit it next summer, but at least we’re closer now than we were before. I’ll still be around for her.”

Your mom smiles softly at his clear adoration for you, and when she meets your eye, you feel a sudden wave of relief wash through you. There’s something in her gaze that reads like approval - and for a woman who, this time last year, told you that there isn’t a single man out there worth your time, or who won’t hurt you - she doesn’t have to say anything for you to know she’s eating her words. For a woman who lost all faith in forever when she divorced your dad, you’re grateful to see her entertaining the idea of it when it comes to you and Luke.

“Don’t worry, I think she’ll keep you around,” she reassures him, a subtle wink sent his way as your cheeks go burning hot - and you divert your gaze to avoid the depth of her perception, eyes lingering on the softened pink hues of the summer sunset you all came out to watch.

You think you’ll keep him, too.

“This is so fancy,” you sigh, something between awe and anxiety swirling through your brain at just how nice this restaurant is - so different to all the other date nights you and Luke have spent together over the course of the summer.

But summer is coming to an end, and Luke said he wanted to try something different.

“My mom told me about it,” he replies, eyes glancing up from his menu to meet yours, “Which I realise loses me cool points, but I promise she has good taste.”

“Your mom is cool, babe,” you laugh, “No points lost.”

“I mean, it’s better than the club, right?”

It’s definitely better than the club - and not only because you’re not reminded of having to work there last summer every time you tag along with Luke for an afternoon on the course, or a trip to the bar.

“Yeah,” you smile softly to reassure him, “It’s nice, it’s just weird, I think.”

“Weird?” He frowns.

“Not like weird,” you’re quick to cover your tracks at the sight of his expression, like a wounded animal, and guilt nips at your stomach. He’s trying to do something nice. He’s giving you a chance to get all dressed up, and he sent you to get your hair blow-dried at one of the nicer salons in town, and it is a treat to be pampered.

You just sort of like all the other stuff the two of you have been getting up to a little more.

But you can put on your big girl pants and enjoy it, for his sake.

“I just mean like, I feel like I need Duolingo to help me out with this thing,” you chuckle, waving the menu a little in your hands.

You need to be more grateful, you think.

He’s making such an effort.

In one of his nicest suits, tailored to perfection - and the two of you had a little bit of a walk from the car, you got to see how good his ass looked when he paid for the meter a couple blocks away, bending to read the machine and giving you the perfect view - he honestly looks so good it’s almost alarming.

And you think you do, too. You feel good, at least - especially with how Luke looked at you when he came out of the bathroom and saw you in this dress back in the house. Black satin, a sweetheart neckline just begging for his gaze to linger, and it fits like a glove, too - you swear he was starting to drool at one point.

“Yeah, it’s a little excessive, actually,” he sighs, his finger hooking into the knot of his tie and loosening it a little.

“Baby, I promise, it’s nice-,” you reach over to wrap your fingers around his hand, and it turns, palm-up, until you can properly interlace yours with his. “I’m just not used to this sort of place, but it’s gorgeous, I really appreciate all the effort you put into tonight.”

“I’m sorry that it’s the first time we’ve done it,” he frowns, “I promise I’ll try and do better-“

“Wait, what?”

Do better?

You don’t think for a second he ever has to try?

This summer has been like a dream, and the dates the two of you have gone on have far surpassed anything you’ve ever experienced in any other relationship.

Nights together watching movies - a routine the two of you kept up every Sunday, and even more throughout the week - even if that was with his brothers, or his friends, or even his parents, a couple times.

Days out on the lake, wake surfing, or just treading water. Swimming, socialising, sailing, sunbathing - a maintained sense of calm providing comfort over the past few months that you wouldn’t trade for the world.

Mini golf, portrait painting, lego building, cooking together, shopping together, even nights as a group, doing whatever activities anybody else wanted to do.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy - and Luke is at the core of it all.

“You don’t have to do anything better.”

“I just feel like all our dates so far haven’t been super involved,” he sighs, “Like I fought so hard to get you, I should be trying harder to keep you.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“Jack said-,”

And you can’t help it - in as serious of an environment as this is - you reach over the table and swat at his head with your menu. It’s really more of a light tap, but the surprise of it jolts him a little, widened eyes staring back at you.

“What the hell?”

“I thought we knew better than to listen to Jack, babe.”

“But he said-,”

“Don’t make me hit you again.”

He narrows his eyes your way, a warning, almost, and you roll your own eyes in response, a quick squeeze of your hand to let him know he can carry on.

“He said he makes a point of being the one to take charge of the dates, ‘cause Ellie told him it makes her feel valued. And I know we don’t listen to Ellie, either,” and thank god he does, you think - because for as much as you’ve forgiven the both of them for the gigantic mess they made of yours and Luke’s relationship back in the Spring, Jack and Ellie are still gigantic morons, and their relationship couldn’t be any further from yours if they tried. “But it just made me thing back on all the stuff we have done together this summer, and how I sort of left it to you to take the reins.”

You suppose that’s technically true - a lot of times you came up with the ideas, but it’s not like he never contributed. It’s not like he never made an effort, or you felt like he didn’t care.

“You do realise I like being in control, right?” You ask, your lips twisting a little to soften the blow when he meets your eyes again, and you drop your menu to free up your other hand, leaning forward and reaching for his free hand, too.

“I’m very aware, actually,” he snorts, and you’re sort of relieved to hear it - because you know deep down that you and Luke understand each other on a deeper level than you’ve ever experienced before, and to hear him second guessing it sort of stings. “And I like you being in control,” he adds, thank god. “I just feel like I always leave it to you to organise stuff like this, without even realising I’m doing it, and I guess I feel bad.”

“I like looking after this stuff, Luke,” you admit, a little sheepish, though you don’t really know why. Maybe it’s leaving this sort of unspoken for so long, or maybe it’s past experiences of guys who would feel emasculated by you adding, “I like looking after you.”

“Really?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know,” he pouts, “I guess I just thought you’d want to be with someone who looked after you,”

“You do.” You assure him, and you could probably list a thousand ways in which he’s already proven that. “Looking after me goes beyond dates,” you tell him, “It’s about how you make me feel.”

“And how do I make you feel?”

You’re thankful to see the way a slow, sure smile creeps up on his face - like whatever thoughts Jack had infected him with before - whether intentionally or not - have been eradicated.

“You know how you make me feel,” you smile back.

“Yeah,” he nods, self assured and seriously sexy. “Still want you to say it, though.”

“How about we get out of here and you let me show you, instead?”

And you don’t think you’ve ever seen him move so quick.

He’s practically dragging you out of the restaurant in under a minute, making sure to thank and tip the maître d' on the way, and the two of you barely make it back to his car before he’s pouncing - his kiss firm, his adoration clear, and your love continuing to grow with every waking moment you spend in his company.

“Is that the last box?” You ask as Luke places it gently down beside the others he’s just hauled up to your apartment from the truck he rented to have your stuff shipped over from storage in Michigan.

He’s been pretty insistent on helping you move in - he’s been pretty insistent on helping with everything, and you couldn’t be more grateful for his input, if you’re honest.

He’d come out to Jersey to check out potential apartments with you, had given advice on all the best areas, with all the best travel access to get yourself across the river - because the thought of living in a different state again, despite just how close the two of them are, just didn’t sit right with you when it came to deciding where you’d live while you went to graduate school.

And now he’s brought up every single box without you having to lift a finger - so far from the slinged up version of him you’d started your summer with a few months ago, which is really wonderful to see. He’s worked really hard to rehab his injury, and you’re so proud of all of his progress, beyond using it to your own advantage.

You can’t wait to spend the next year watching him thrive.

He makes you so happy you could probably burst if you give it too much thought.

“Yep,” he smiles, and he flexes his muscles at you with a suggestive wiggle of his brows, “You think me bringing all these up 5 flights of stairs is enough for people to start thinking I have the potential to bulk?”

“I’d say you’re plenty bulky,” you say, beaming up as you practically skip over to him, placing your hands on his muscular chest and leaning to press a kiss to his lips, “Gonna miss my big strong boyfriend while you’re away for the weekend.”

Him and his brothers have a little trip planned for the three of them, and as much as you want to spend your first few nights in your new apartment with him, you know how important it is leading into the season that they get their sibling time in - especially with Quinn.

“I’ll come straight here when I get back on Monday,” he promises, kissing you again and again until you start to feel a little dizzy, his strong, calloused grip on your waist guiding you back towards the couch that the landlord left behind for you - and while you’re quite keen to christen a few of the spaces while you have the chance, you can’t contain your excitement for much longer.

“I got you a present.”

“I’m supposed to get you something, I’m pretty sure,” he scoffs, watching as you spin on your heels, retreat back to the table you were standing at when he came in, and come back over to him - placing something small and cold in his palm.

A key.

A key to your apartment.

“So you don’t have to call ahead.” You tell him, although obviously it means much more than that.

He smiles - that same pretty smile that got you hooked over a year ago, now - and you smile straight back.

He lifts his hands to cup at your beaming cheeks, the cool metal of the key pressing into your skin - not that you mind - as he pulls you in to kiss you, again. His excitement is clear, and you're quickly consumed by the familiar thumping of your heart that will never go away when you're around him.

Finally the two of you have somewhere you don’t have to worry about interruptions, or rushing, or hiding away.

Finally you have somewhere - and someone - that’s just yours.

another a/n: I didn't know how to end this lmao!! but I hope you all enjoy!!

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x you #*writing #also shoutout my jsw Maggie cinematic universe believers #there's an Easter egg in here lmao #sorry this is like technically 3 hours late to be a Meg bday post #but the intention was there hahaha

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kabr0ztrousers · 5 months ago

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If you are comfortable with it, can you do chubby fem reader x orc step dad x orc dbf? Step dad's been trying to set her up with his friend but she is not interested. One day they both corner her. Step dad is mainly holding her against him while his friend is burying his face and cock in her pussy. The step dad doesn't penetrate her but gropes and says some really gross things. Heavy breeding kink on this one.

Sounds hot! And it'll be nice to get back to some high fantasy!

Kabr0z Writes episode 42: Orc Daddy

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Dubcon going to enthusiastic consent; size difference; age difference; father-daughter; arranged marriage; breeding; deep penetration; groping; extreme cum;

A/N: Wow, episode 42 already. I definitely should've written a special one for today in advance to mark this particular milestone, but oh well.

There's 10 stories in the queue at time of publication, so if you send a request and don't see it for a few days please have faith, it's coming.

On the subject of requests, please do keep them coming! I have a couple of anons claiming emojis, so if you want one then you might want to grab it early!

Any idea, kink, scenario, whatever, drop me an anon or a DM and I'll make it happen!

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

The village was never quiet. Orcs all have a competitive streak, the young ones always brawling, racing, drinking, trying to outdo one another. To say nothing of the constant sounds of work being done, labourers chopping wood in the forest, mining ore out of the mountain, singing bawdy songs waiting for the charcoal to bake, and your step-father smithing the tools that made it all happen.

You'd been adopted into the village almost 15 years ago as a child after bandits attacked your family in the mountains. Only you got away and were found by a hunting party days later, half starved and freezing. They brought you back to the village, unsure about what to do with you. An extra mouth was a burden, and a human no less. You were lucky the village blacksmith, a hulking, bearded orc named Mazorn.

Of course, you're in your early 20s now. The young orcs in the village were all interested in you and while you'd had the odd roll in the hay, Mazorn wasn't keen on any of them getting too close to you. He kept on going on about one of his friends from another village nearby, a grizzled warrior called Oreg. You weren't particularly interested in the idea of an arranged marriage to begin with, let alone with some old friend of your father's.

It was raining hard when the caravan arrived. Furs and trade goods from the city, along with a huge figure clad in platemail. The whole village came out to see, the suit glowed with enchantment, emblazoned with shining gilt fittings and a rich red cloak, a matching shield on his back and a longsword on his hip. A bit much for a caravan guard. Your father stepped out towards him, and they grabbed one another in a hug, Mazorn's huge hand clapping on the shield, the knight's clanking on the orc's back. They laughed heartily before Mazorn brought him over to you

"This is the daughter I've told you about!" Mazorn gestured to you as the other man lifted his helmet.

Underneath was a scarred orc, tusks filed short and short-stubbled. "I see you raised her well, old friend!" Oreg clapped Mazorn, looking at you "Certainly haven't been under-feeding her"

You blushed, conscious of his eyes on you. You weren't sure if it was the armour, but it was kind of turning you on. Oreg and Mazorn walked back to the smithy, you in tow as they reminisced about their glory days. You hadn't taken your old dad for a warrior, but apparently they used to be shield brothers in some war or other. The ale was flowing freely between them, perhaps too freely as you noticed Oreg taking longer and longer glances at you. The armoured orc was gradually taking pieces off, bracers, greaves, miscellaneous plates protecting his joints and flanks.

You could smell him as the armour came off, strong and musky. It wasn't unpleasant per se, you'd spent your life around orcs, but it was noticeable. Oreg motioned to you to help him with some of the harder to reach buckles and straps "I'd normally have a squire around to help with this, but he's helping the caravaneers. You should know your way around all this anyway, your father made most of it"

The last plate to come off was his cuirass, once he stripped the chain surcoat and the gambesson underneath, Oreg was sat half naked and glistening with a thin layer of fresh sweat. His shoulders were broad, his back criss-crossed with scars. Only a loincloth covered his manhood. Muscles rippled under his skin as he stretched and shook himself, cushioned by the layer of fat ubiquitous among the strongest orcs in your village.

You caught yourself staring, swallowing the mouthful of drool you'd produced looking at him.

Your father looked at Oreg "Thirty gold pieces"

Oreg laughed, "Done! She's worth at least fifty"

Were they talking about you?

Mazorn lifted you, as though you weighed nothing. He held you under a shoulder and gripped your thick thighs, forcing them apart and presenting you to the other orc. You blushed, underwear wasn't a part of your wardrobe, so your unprotected pussy was completely bare to Oreg "She's useful about the house, but she's a been a bit of a whore in her time, already laid with half the lads her age. Want to get shut of her before she gets herself knocked up"

Oreg touched your pussy, opening it up with his calloused fingers "Hmm, certainly not a virgin, but clean and well cared for... Thirty is fair."

You heard a coinpurse hit the table. You'd been sold, like a prize hog at market. Or a breeding sow.

Mazorn shifted you in his grip, holding you upright by the tits, his huge hands groping you as Oreg pulled his loincloth aside

"I'd better see to her properly now she's mine" His hands were rough and strong, but his nails well manicured and clean. He tore off your skirt and got down on one knee in front of you, eyes level with your already moist pussy as you struggled against your adoptive father's grip.

Oreg held one leg up as he filled you with a thick finger, the rough skin making you shudder in anticipation as it gently worked its way inside. Another finger joined it, you whined as they stretched you, but Oreg was careful not to hurt you as he slowly twisted them inside you, going this way and that, paying attention to where made your breathing catch, your pulse quicken, your toes curl.

You'd stopped struggling now, holding your legs open for the big orc to finger you, Mazorn's voice came from beside your head "See? I told you she's a slut, already she's giving herself over to you! And after all her complaining about wanting to pick her own mate!"

You couldn't disagree. You'd fancied Oreg since you'd set eyes on him, you were probably going to try and get this orc 20 years your senior to finger you tonight anyway. You bit your lip, the sensations getting to you. Mazorn started groping at you faster, your whines cued Oreg to let go of your leg, using that hand to rub your clit.

You came with a wail, your cunt eagerly accepting the fingers rolling around in it, your hips thrusting, trying in vain to fuck him back. Oreg stood up, holding his erect member in one hand, he could probably fit two of those hands next to each other on his cock and still have length to spare.

Two of his hands, or one of you.

He lined up his cock with your pussy, looking down into your begging eyes as he rubbed it against your clit and your hole. It was almost comically thick, the head pressing against the cit and the opening at the same time.

You nodded at him, putting your hands on his waist as he gently rubbed himself into you.

"Take it, take your new husband" Mazorn growled into your ear. You knew he'd fantasized about doing this himself so many times, muttering your name as he wanked himself to sleep when he thought you were asleep. You could feel his cock getting rock-hard behind you, pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers. But you were Oreg's now, and there was nothing he could do about it as you rubbed your ass against him. The bastard had sold you, the least you could do was give him some seller's remorse.

Oreg pushed himself in. It didn't hurt, the stretching from his fingers and the liberal amount of your juices on his cockhead meant he slid in without pain. It still made your eyes water, tears building as your mouth lolled open and you groaned from the immense pressure inside you. You moved your hips against him, wrapping your legs around his trunk, but you could no more hurry him that you could pull up an old oak. Slowly, carefully, he pushed into you. You felt his tip kiss your cervix and moaned again, open mouthed and animalistic.

He stayed still for a moment, resisting the pulling of your legs, the urging in your eyes. "Please" you breathed, barely a whisper "please, more"

Mazorn laughed "See? The slut wants it all! She's well broken in, brother, you can have fun"

Oreg looked into your eyes, waiting for your nod.

You gave it.

He pushed.

You felt the cock slip by your cervix, pushing deeper into you as be bottomed out in you. Your eyes defocused as you wordlessly begged him. Your hips moved on their own, without rhythm, running on sheer desperation for his cock.

He started to fuck you properly now. Starting slowly, thrusting in and out in long motions, slathering himself in your juices and getting your fuckhole relaxed as he built up speed. You felt like you were melting into him. Your legs started to slip a little as he fucked you senseless. His hand came up to your face, the two fingers that had been inside you thrust into your mouth. You sucked on them, tasting your wetness. You felt your cunt drooling out even more as he invaded your mouth

"You like your face being fucked too?" Oreg grinned "Your father's a fine smith, but no salesman"

His fingers fucked your face harder as he pounded into your cunt. You felt your body start to twitch and tense. Your head was spinning. Your legs clenched around him. You moaned again and again, the noises merging into a wail of release as your cunt tightened and relief filled your body. You could feel the waves of warmth and pleasure making your pussy pulse around Oreg's cock.

He groaned in time with you. He thrust himself in, his balls pressed against your asshole as they pulsed and tightened into him. Surge after surge of hot liquid pumped up into you. You could feel the pressure of it squirting it into every corner of your cunt, flooding your womb and leaking out around his cock, and it kept coming.

You could hear Mazorn grunting as well as the bulge of his cock started to twitch, a damp patch spreading on your back as you leaked the younger orc's cum onto your stepfather's clothes.

Oreg wrapped his arms around you, and Mazorn released you into his embrace. The knight carried you, still buried in your cunt, and sat down.

The way he looked at you, with such tenderness, you wouldn't believe his cock was buried over a foot deep in you if you couldn't feel it in your guts. You kissed his chest and rested your head, letting the blissed-out feeling take you as you both dozed in each other's arms.

You left with him in the morning.

It was over a month until the caravan got back to Oreg's home, every night punctuated with another round of intense, yet strangely gentle, lovemaking. Your monthlies hadn't came, you reckoned that a gallon of orc cum every night had seen to that. It turned out Mazorn had rather undersold Oreg to you. He wasn't some foreign warlord, he was a duke under the Imperial crown. Apparently the old war they were drinking to was a crusade against a lich king, and for his valiance he was granted a noble title. He'd spent the last twenty years as a paladin of Pelor and had only recently received permission to take a wife and continue his lineage.

You still weren't happy about being sold, but figured you could live with it, Mazorn always was looking out for you, in his way

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

This is another one I really enjoyed writing! A little exposition, Oreg's actually based off a D&D character I played in my first proper campaign in that system, though his monstrous manhood never came up then. Just goes to show inspiration can strike from anywhere.

Hopefully you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and again if you have any ideas, scenarios, kinks, fanmail, hatemail, whatever, drop me a DM or an ask and I'll probably wind up writing it!

Again, there's 10 in the queue right now, but it will almost certainly get written 😁

Post-post script: I still haven't figured out how to reference the posterior fornix without feeling like I'm giving a biology lecture

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olivianyx · 1 year ago

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GET YOUR DREAM LIFE: A CHALLENGE

Welcome to this challenge, babygirls and babyboys 🗣️🗣️🗣️

So are you ready to manifest everything you desired in April? Then start up rn!

I'll show you 5 important, simple steps you can use to manifest your dream life!

This challenge will be done for 30 days throughout April. At the end of this month, the results are guaranteed!

You might be wondering if its gonna be hard... Buuuut! The steps are super duper simple, just follow them!

THE STEPS:

🤍 MENTAL DIET 🤍

Y'all heard it right, maintain a strict mental diet, like literally stop wavering! Stop focusing on things you don't want! Don't accept things you don't want! It's that simple. Only focus on positive and favourable thoughts.

Your mornings should go like, 'uhh it's such a beautiful day. It's gonna be amazing day as always. But it's gonna be fun today! I literally love this life, it's freaking amazing, I literally don't know how to thank myself for this. The fact that I'm the ultimate creator is soo mind blowing for me even though I've always been for my entire life. I'm literally thankful for everything! My life's being too perfect and I get what I want everytime, everything's in my favour always. I literally look soo amazing in every outfit I wear, it's such a slay everyday. Uhh I'm soo lucky to have what I want. Literally my self concept is supreme' and blah blah blah. You can add whatever you want further lol.

So like literally throughout the day steady yourself in this mindset. If you catch yourself wavering, be like *sike there ain't no chance bitch* come back on track! Catch yourself waver ---> stop ---> drop ---> flip it into something positive or favourable.

Literally robotic affirming is the only way you can keep your thoughts in check. So go bestie! Keep your head high, keep a check on those thoughts inside your pretty/handsome head 😩 keep slaying everyday ✨

🤍 ROBOTIC AFFIRMING 🤍

Keep affirming babygirls and babyboys! Like literally don't even stop (unless you're doing smth important, then stop affirming for a while lol) y'all got your dream lives already 💅 so why y'all telling yourself that you don't?? Well y'all do have it, so tell yourself the ULTIMATE FACT that you have your dream lives already 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ tell yourself whenever you're free, like even doing your daily chores such as taking a shit or shower, or brushing your teeth, eating, scrolling through the phone, or walking, waiting in a queue (I'd never wait in a queue... Cus I don't go to places with long ass annoying queues 😭) or listening to music or watching TV, doing the dishes or doing self care (I love my babygirls and babyboys taking care of themselves like there's no tomorrow 😩✋🏻I'mma give y'all a nice smooch 😚) just do it my babies! It's the ultimate way to get (which you already have it) your dream lives! So get tf up babies! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 LIVING IN THE END 🤍

This step shouldn't be missed at all babies! So focus on the end! Focus on having it! Focus on thinking from the end! Like you already are living yor dream lives, you have that car you wanted cus you already drive it everyday! You have that sp that loves you till death, that spoils you with their love, money, and what not?! You have that house you've been dreaming of! No, I mean living! You're living in that house already! It's yours my love! You got that perfect sculptured summer body ody that the normal human beings are jealous?? Like you have that body effortlessly 😩✋🏻 FOCUS ON HAVING IT BITCHES 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 USING SLEEP TO YOUR ADVANTAGE! 🤍

Listen here, my babygirls and babyboys! You sleep 7 to 8 hours a day, and sleep, according to medicals, is a state of complete rest. That means you're not aware of your surroundings. You're just being a black, quiet, space like floaty state (the void actually) so things are easier to manifest Instantly in this state! So why not do psych k or sats or the lullaby method before bed and after you wake up my loves?? It's so much more effective that what you do in the day time! Trust me! Go prepare yourself well for the bed babies 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 PERSISTENCE 🤍

Since you already affirming that you have your dream lives, you have it already! But you can begin to doubt that why is it not in the 3d... BITCH DON'T EVEN THINK LIKE THAT. Be like 'bitch wtf my life literally feels like a dream come true moment everyday 😭😭 like I'm literally living the life I wanted, I already am experiencing it wtf are you talking about' like literally GASLIGHT YOURSELF INTO THINKING LIKE THAT (cus you already have your dream life) like literally decide that you already have! Hold onto the new story no matter what! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

So ig I've told you what you needed to do... So all you gotta do is follow the fucking steps babies 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Okay, take care, love y'all babies! Byeee

- olivia 🤍

#dream life #law of assumption #neville goddard #reality shifting #loa success #affirmdaily #frequency #manifestations #manifestyourreality #scripting #nonduality #nondualism #void thoughts #voidstate #void #void success #loassumption #loassblog

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toldthatdevil · 2 months ago

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Little Fish

pairings: WandaNat x Little!Reader

Content: swimming lessons, first time at a water park, protective mommies, age regression

A/N: so this ask actually disappeared from my inbox and im so glad I had it saved in my notes because I really got into this one so thank you to the anon that sent it to me.

p.s if you sent in an ask and I never responded to it, it might be because it has also disappeared so feel free to send it in again!

Prompt: Hihi i dunno if this is where we request things but could you maybe write wandanat x little!reader with maybe a trip to a water park or going swimming or something please? Maybe teaching her how to swim? I can't swim and I miss summer.

It was the height of summer. The worst season ever, because it meant you were always hot and always sweaty. It was the kind of hot that made all of your clothes cling to your skin and your hair feel like a sticky mess if it wasn’t tied up properly. But today your mommies were trying to make your summer a little less awful, because today they were taking you to the water park.

The drive felt like it was taking forever. You were practically vibrating in your car seat with excitement, asking, “Are we there yet?” every five minutes, much to Natasha and Wanda’s amusement. But, finally, finally, the twisting water slides appeared in the distance, and you pressed your face against the glass, straining to get a better look.

“Someone’s excited,” Natasha smirked, catching you bouncing in the rearview mirror.

Wanda turned around in her seat, brushing your knee with her hand to get your attention. “Remember our rule, sweetheart? You stay close, and tell mommy or me if it starts to feel like too much.”

You nodded eagerly, too busy staring out the window at the water slides to answer. This was your very first time at a water park, and even though you couldn’t really swim—if at all—your mommies had promised they’d stay with you the whole time, no matter what.

Once the car was parked, Natasha helped you out of your car seat while Wanda grabbed the bags from the trunk. Together, you joined the queue to enter the park ,then made your way to the family changing room.

Inside, Wanda knelt down helping you out of your clothes and into your swimsuit. “Arms up,” she prompted gently. You obeyed with a giggle, delighted as she helped you wriggle into your swimsuit.

But then came the worst part.

“Sunscreen time,” Natasha announced, kneeling in front of you with the bottle in her hand. “Hold still, lovebug,” she said, trying to smother the cold lotion onto your skin.

“Eww! It’s yucky!” you whined, trying to squirm away. You knew sunscreen was important, but did it always have to feel so cold? You felt Wanda’s hands rest gently but firmly on your shoulders to stop you squirming even more.

“Just a little more,” Wanda soothed, bending down to kiss your cheek. “We don’t want you coming home looking like a tomato, now do we?”

You sighed and gave a reluctant nod, murmuring a soft “hm” as you finally gave in.

“And done,” Natasha said with a satisfied nod, tossing the bottle back into the beach bag.

You immediately turned scrambling toward the door, your hand already on the handle. “Can we go, can we go?”

Behind you, Wanda was half naked, she hadn’t even had time to put her bikini bra on before you opened the door.

“Hey—! Wait, wait!” Wanda gasped, fumbling to cover herself before you could swing the door all the way open exposing her. “Mama’s not trying to flash the whole water park here, sweetheart.”

Natasha chuckled from where she was folding your clothes back into the bag. “Easy, tiger,” she said with a teasing glance.

Wanda smirked as she finally got the ties of her bikini top secured.

“Ugh,” you groaned dramatically, bouncing on your heels as you waited. “Can we go now?!”

“Hm…” Wanda drew out the sound as she looked you over thoughtfully. “I don’t know… I think something’s missing.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What?”

She knelt down beside one of the bags on the floor and unzipped it.

“I have something for you,” she whispered, with a smile.

Your eyes widened as she revealed a pair of colourful armband floats and a floatie shaped exactly like your favourite animal.

“Mama!” you gasped, reaching out with grabby hands. “I love them!”

Natasha and Wanda chuckled, happy with your reaction.

“What do we say?” Natasha prompted gently, one eyebrow raised as she stood and slung the bag over her shoulder.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed in delight, throwing your arms around your mama and hugging her tightly.

————

The water park was… a lot.

It was bigger than you imagined. Louder too. You stood there hesitantly, unsure of what to do first. You watched as the other children darted past you, shrieking with laughter, water splashing everywhere. There were so many people and it all felt like chaos, which was exciting but also overwhelming.

You reached for your mommies’ hands without thinking, suddenly feeling very, very small.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Wanda murmured, sensing your nervousness. “How about we start with something gentle? We could try the lazy river, hm?”

You nodded, not entirely sure what that was but trusting your mommy’s suggestion.

You didn’t have to wait in line long before, you were settling into your brightly coloured inflatable ring. Natasha held it steady for you so you didn’t drift off, then climbed into her own once Wanda had settled into hers.

You could feel the current tugging at you gently eager to move and for a moment you were worried that as soon as Natasha let go you would be whisked away, but she didn’t. The water stayed slow and gently, carrying all three of you along.

You trailed your fingers through the warm water, watching the ripples spread. One loop around the river turned into two before you even realised, and you were secretly hoping to go around a third time but Wanda gave your ring a soft nudge.

“Alright, little fish,” she smiled, “let’s try something else?”

———

After the lazy river, you wandered through the park for a while, taking everything in from the safety of your mommies arms. They took turns giving you piggy backs when you complained that the ground was getting too hot for your bare feet. Together you looked at the wave pool, watched the bigger kids zoom down the slides that were way too tall for you, and found it particularly hilarious to watch the giant water buckets fill up and tip over, splashing water onto people’s heads.

Eventually though your tummy started to rumble.

You ate lunch with your mommies by the lagoon pool, munching on sandwiches and fruit cups. As you ate your food, you watched the other kids slide down the smaller slides nearby, eyes glued to them.

You were too small for the big slides you saw earlier, but these ones looked smaller, something you might be able to try.

“You wanna try it out, lovebug?” Natasha asked, following your gaze.

You bit your lip. You really wanted to… but it was new and that made it scary.

“I can go with you,” she offered gently. “You can sit right in my lap the whole way down.”

You looked at your mama, unsure. Wanda gave you an encouraging smile, her voice soft as she spoke. “You can do it sweetheart,” she said, her eyes warm and reassuring.

That was all you needed to hear to convince you. You nodded, but you were only going if mommy went with you like she said she would, and if mama would wait for you in the pool below.

Taking a deep breath, you started to climb the metal stairs. Natasha’s hand found yours, steadying your nerves as you climbed, but still each step forward made your heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in your belly. Natasha’s voice was soft and low beside you so only you could hear, soothing you gently. “You’ve got this, lovebug. We’re almost there.”

When you reached the top, you realised just how high up you were. It didn’t look that tall from the ground but now you were here you were unsure if you could do it at all.

You watched as Natasha sat down first on the slide, the water rushing past her. She reached out her arms for you but you stood there hesitantly. “Come on, squirt” she said.

Carefully you shuffled over to her and she pulled you effortlessly into her lap.

“Ready?” she asked, adjusting you slightly so you were secure. You gave her a nervous nod, and with your approval she pushed off gently, starting your descent down the slide.

You screamed the entire way down, clinging to her as you whooshed around the bends of the slide, cold water spraying your face. You had your eyes shut tight the entire way down, so the big splash into the pool took you by complete surprise.

You felt Natasha’s grip tighten on your waist just before bringing you up above the water.

As you wiped the water from your face and blinked your eyes open, you saw your mama waiting right where she said she’d be. In the pool, only she had a waterproof camera in hand.

“You did it, sweetheart!” she cheered, beaming. She waded over and planted a big kiss on your cheeks, making you giggle.

“Again!!” you shouted as soon as you caught your breath.

Natasha laughed. “Could you hear her screaming the whole way down?”

“I’m pretty sure half of the park heard her,” Wanda laughed.

—————

The rest of the afternoon consisted of waiting in line for the same exact slide, over and over again and running around in the splash pads.

But there was only one thing left you really wanted to try: the wave pool.

Wanda frowned slightly. “I think you might be too little, sweetheart…”

Your bottom lip wobbled. “Please, Mommy?” you whispered, turning to Natasha. You knew Natasha was much easier to convince than your mama.

Natasha sighed, and looked over at Wanda. “Maybe we give her a quick swimming lesson first?”

Wanda didn’t answer right away. She glanced between the two of you, looking at your hopeful little face made her soften, just a bit.

“Okay,” she said finally, “but I want to see you swimming like a little fish before we even think about the waves.”

—————

“I can’t do it mommy,” you whimpered, your little toes curling over the edge of the pool. Even though the water was shallow and you could see the bottom, see the toys that had sunk down there waiting to be recovered. it was still so scary.

“Yes you can,” Natasha encouraged from the water, her red hair now pulled back into a ponytail, her arms wide open for you, “you’re so brave, I know you can do this.”

“And I’m right behind you,” Wanda added, rubbing small circles on your back but your heart still felt as though it was going to beat its way out from your ribcage.

“What if I sink?” you asked in a small voice, feeling yourself slipping deeper into your headspace.

Wanda knelt beside you, taking your hands gently in hers. “Watch,” her voice was soft. She waved a hand and tendrils of her red magic rippled through the water, and a toy that had sunk to the bottom of the pool floated up into her hand. “If you go under, I’ll just bring you back to me.”

You giggled. Her magic always helped and you loved watching her use it.

“Okay,” you whispered. “But do I have to jump?”

Natasha smiled. “No, silly.”

“Come sit on the steps with me,” Wanda said, guiding you down to sit on the first step. The water lapped at your waist, and Natasha waded over to come closer to you.

“Lesson Number 1,” Natasha said, slipping into what you called her "secret spy" voice, “is learning to be friends with the water. Let’s start by splashing.”

You kicked and splashed and giggled, slowly relaxing. Natasha taught you to blow bubbles with your face partially submerged.

“That’s it, just like blowing out birthday candles.”

You watched as she showed you how to use your arms to push you forward in the water.

“Imagine you’re scooping ice cream.”

And she showed you how to float on your back without your armbands on.

Wanda sat at the edge of the pool, watching and taking pictures with her camera, occasionally giving your floatie that you had insisted on bringing with you a nudge closer with her magic, making you giggle through your nerves.

It didn’t take you long to catch on, and now you were barely holding onto Natasha. You were only using her as a guide, scared you would bump your head on the pool wall without her.

“Okay, I’m going to let go of one hand,” she warned, “but I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, determined to this. She let go and you kept going, you kept kicking and scooping and you were finally swimming!

“You’re doing it!” Wanda cheered from the side of the pool, her camera clicking rapidly.

“Mommy, I wanna try without you holding me!”

Natasha raised a brow but nodded. “Alright then squirt. Swim from me to Mama.”

You took a deep breath, scooped, kicked and swam, doing your best to go in a straight of a line as possible. You knew you’d made it when Wanda scooped you into a tight hug.

You let out a squeal.

“Now back to me!” Natasha called, her arms outstretched for you.

You felt much more confident this time, but you kicked yourself right into Natasha’s embrace.

“Mission accomplished!” she declared, giving you a big kiss on your wet cheeks and spinning you around. “Wave pool time?”

You grinned, nodding excitedly.

——————

You waded in together just at the right time. The horn blared signalling the start of the waves. The gentle swells of the water began to rise, rolling in lazily at first before you saw them really starting to build in size.

Wanda had one hand resting on your back, her other subtly weaving glowing red threads of her magic into the water around you. You didn’t notice what she was doing exactly, but you could tell the water felt different where you were, it was softer. Nowhere near as exciting as further out, where you wanted to be.

But then you noticed why.

“Mama,” you pouted, craning to look up at her. “You’re making the waves small!”

Wanda sighed, caught in her act. “I was just trying to keep them from being too rough for you, sweetheart.”

“I want the big ones,” you insisted, pointing further out. “The real waves,”

You could see her hesitation. She glanced at Natasha for backup, but Natasha only smiled. “She’s got her armbands on, Wanda,” Natasha said. “She’ll be fine.”

You beamed happily, and latched yourself onto Natasha’s hip as you couldn’t quite reach the bottom of the pool anymore. You wrapped your little arms and legs around her like a baby koala as she walked the two of you out into deeper water. Wanda stayed close beside you, her brows slightly knit together with concern.

You felt the water gradually lifting around you, rising and falling like it was breathing. It almost felt like you were flying. The thrill of it made your heart pound hard in your chest

“I wanna go deeper!” You squealed.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Wanda asked cautiously, brushing your wet hair out of your eyes.

“Yes! Deeper!”

Your mama looked like she might say no, but Natasha was already racing ahead, stepping further in, her grip firm around your waist.

“She’s okay,” Natasha called back confidently. “I’ve got her.”

You were in the thick of it now, the waves were cresting higher than anywhere else in the pool, more violent too. You had your arms wrapped around Natasha’s neck, laughing. You were so far out you don’t even think she could touch the floor anymore but you didn’t care. You were having fun. You felt brave. You felt big.

But then it happened.

A massive wave rolled in. “Hold on-“ Natasha started, but it was too late.

She tried to hold you tighter, but the wave knocked into her full force, and for a terrifying moment, you felt yourself slip out of her arms.

You were under the water.

You tumbled with the wave, turning upside down, water burning your nose and throat.

Before you could panic fully, you felt a familiar warmth grasp wrapping itself around you like a ribbon and pull you through the water, into the arms of your Mama. She clutched you tightly to her chest, holding the back of your head, her heart pounding against you. You were sputtering, coughing, trying to blink away the water from your eyes.

Your chest felt tight and your face scrunched in confusion from what just happened. You weren’t crying…not yet.

“Oh my god, is she okay?” Natasha swam up, breathless and soaked, her hands hovering near you. “I’m so sorry, I had her- I didn’t mean to -shit.”

Your head snapped toward her, still dazed by the wave, but you caught what she said.

“Bad word,” you mumbled, sniffling a little.

“What?” Natasha blinked in confusion.

“You said a bad word, mommy,” you repeated, the tiniest form of a grin breaking on your face.

Wanda huffed a soft laugh, before pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “She’s fine,” She murmured with relief, but you could tell her voice was still tight. She looked up at Natasha with a stern frown. “No more wave pool.”

Natasha nodded immediately, the guilt written all over her face. “Agreed. I’m so sorry, lovebug.”

You didn’t answer—just wrapped your arms tightly around Wanda’s neck, pressing your cheek against her shoulder.

Wanda carried you out of the pool, not letting go for even a second. You were still a little shaky, your face pink and damp, but you stayed quiet as she wrapped a towel around you and gently patted you dry.

“Let’s get you warm,” Wanda said softly, tucking your floaties under her arm.

Natasha came back with a bottle of water and your favourite snack from the cooler bag, crouching beside your lounge chair.

“Here,” she whispered, holding it out. “Hydration mission, agent. Top priority.”

You took the bottle with both hands and drank obediently, eyes still a bit wide but your fingers curling in comfort when Wanda sat down beside you and draped another towel across your lap.

“Think we’re done with deep water for today,”Natasha said gently, brushing her knuckles against your cheek.

You nodded slowly, leaning into Wanda’s side as she wrapped her arm around you. The events of the day were beginning to catch up to you. You were warm, dry, full of snacks, and now totally tuckered out.

“Can we do lazy river again later?” you asked with a yawn, your voice small, already starting to lose your battle with sleep.

Wanda smiled and tucked your damp hair behind your ear. “Of course we can, my love.”

Natasha leaned in and kissed your temple. “But only if you promise to let me hold you extra tight.”

You gave a sleepy nod, and let your eyes flutter shut, needing to close them for just a few moments. But the sounds of the water park, the laughter, the splashing, the feeling of the sun on your skin slipped further and further away from you and before you knew it, you were fast asleep, wrapped contently in Wanda’s arms.

#wandanat #mommy wanda #mommy natasha #little!reader #age regression #sfw agere #water park fic #swimming lessons #protective wanda #soft natasha #hurt/comfort #toldthatdevil fic #anon ask #wandanat x reader #wandanat x you

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kyri45 · 4 months ago

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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 05/03✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@roseville140 ha chiesto Love your art so much 💗 💜 💖 💕 ❤️ 💓 💗 💜 💖 💕 ❤️ Also question ask this a few times(sorry): What will mk do? Will he make them immortal or be next to them till their last breath?

I don't think he would force them of make them immortal without their consent. He is too good for that

@blossomships ha chiesto: Okay, first ask, but hey, what the heck! Your art is awesome, and the story, It went from "Oh, this boy might be our son" to "omg he's our son and let's fixed our relationship" that's what I think about this in a nutshell lmao and it's crazy how far it has come. So thank you for your contribution to gay monkies- I mean to the fandom, and you are awesome.

Aww thank you!

@anidiotkid ha chiesto: What's going to happen when the comic ends? Do you have any more big projects in mind?

I have other life things to focus on, the ISAT comic, but also I want to share here all the art that I've made in the past 2 years that I never posted on Tumblr

@yuistarlmk ha chiesto: I don't think I'm ready for it to end but i knew this would happen so thank you soooo much for all the stuff you have done for all of us, making us believe in ourselves and more so I'm happy for being a HUGE fan of you. Thank you ⭐⭐

THANK YOUU!!

@jamcyote ha chiesto: Not really a question but... I'm so glad I'm not the only one who thought that it would be a cool idea if the writers made it so that chaos energy/ magic is a perfect mixture of Shadow and what I like to call physical magic (which is what Wu kon has) Slight rant. Chaos magic I don't think is as chaotic as people think. Chaos is more like not seeing or understanding the pattern of something, but everything has a rhyme or reason chaos magic is just rare so people don't know how it works and it probably works very differently than other magic and doesn't have an easy to see pattern (when people don't understand how things work, they become afraid of it). Therefore it's chaos. Chaos tends to have a bad rap but it is not always bad. It just needs to be understood and once it's understood it's no longer "chaos" and is instead another form of magic (that is most likely more powerful than the other forms), but magic itself isn't good or bad it's the person wielding it that makes it One way or the other.

I'll also share my own thoughts about it: I know the whole "Harbinger" thing doesn't mean that he brings chaos, but the connection between that kind of energy and MK for me it always has been "cool, he is a SYMBOL of chaos" like, he's a big ass chaos flag that, once born, has been flying screaming at everyone "HEY YALL! IT'S CHAOS TIME SOON!". Like, the chaos that is coming is literally the primordial chaos that will come once the cycle end because from it must start a new one. But it would make sense that, since there seems to be a whole ass society of people in the chaos realm, that he would at the very least be one of them, like when you are sending someone from your country as an ambassador to give a message

@lordmushroomkat ha chiesto: Ohhh he's never tried to use Wukong and Macaque's powers at the same time before, has he? Ohhhhhhh my stars

nope.

@steadylandface ha chiesto: What’s Nüwa’s reaction to what has completely happened so far in your Shadowpeach Bio parents Au?

She still is dissapointed by MK choice to not end the cycle, so she hasn't been so present. I would suspect she's surprised mostly for the fact that all of this resulted in the biggest un-divorce of the millenia

@candlefox1 ha chiesto: Hi so I hope it’s not too much to ask but I thought mei was also part immortal as well since her great grandfather the dragon of the east was a dragon so doesn’t that make her part immoral or could she visit her dragon relatives to ask ??

She can live longer than a normal human, and, if she only stays as a spiritual dragon, she could, theoretically, live even longer. But not forever.

@primroseprime2019 ha chiesto: You just loooove hurting me with the immortal bit, don'tcha?

yes. Becaue it hurts me too.

@emmabuggy ha chiesto: Are pigs, and tang scared that Mk only will have the monkeys as parents to guide him?

I mean, he has a bunch of people immortal that will also help him.

@injuvanillafruit ha chiesto: Do the monkie trio like bubbles? 🥰🥰

I guess Macaque and MK do. But Wukong doesn't really like anything with water too much.

@vinnillastrawberry ha chiesto: So since you confirmed their will be a dance party I wonder, How many chapters will the dance party be maybe like 4 or 5 ?

@xaelanyx ha chiesto: hello!!!! I love your comic so much. when will you draw another spicy scene for spicynoodles and shadowpeach???

Not soon, the story is ending.

@roseltelle ha chiesto: Do they celebrate the day he was adopted by pigsy and tang as his birthday? I would assume so since they wouldn't know when his stone was cracked.

Yes, since it's also the same day when his stone hatched.

@shadowlilly101 ha chiesto: How did Macaque and Princess Iron Fan meet and become sworn siblings?

They knew each other from the brotherhood, but then bonded over having lost their housbands

@vevebcu ha chiesto: Can I make a fanart with my OC inside your comic? 🥺👉👈

yes

@atrocity101 ha chiesto: Hi! Sorry if I am bothering you in any way, shape, or form by messaging you, but I wanted to ask an important question. I have tried several times to research the details in how demons go about the rules of courting their chosen mate and what they can or not do beforehand or afterwards. You seem like one of the more detailed people to ask for info, could you possibly provide any details of the whole demon courting rules and such? Or provide a link to anywhere that’ll help me understand the logistics of it? (PS: I am in love with your AU and I adore every bit of it, thank you for all the hard work you put into it and please continue it! Have a wonderful day/night, and stay safe out there.)

It's mostly a fan-made thing. I don't have many resources except fanfictions that explain it more in details, like this one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56963272

@ava115 ha chiesto: Is Redson in your au immortal like Mk? Or can he just live long sense he's a demon?

He's not exactly immortal, but can live an absurd long time.

@thenerdycupcake ha chiesto: I just realized something. Since MK can hear the past, that means he can hear his loved ones’ voices whenever he wants. No matter how much time has passed.

yes, similar to watching videos of your loved ones.

@alixzanrite ha chiesto: I thought that Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy were stuck in a reincarnation cycle because of Journey to the west? And if not wouldn't Mk be able to see them in heaven?

*sighs* I'm in no way qualified to talk about those religions, but technically if they are reincarnations of the old gang, they could be stuck in reincarnation still and might be reincarnated in the future again, bu they wont be the same people of course. If they reached buddahood they could stay in heaven. I think

@s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e ha chiesto: okay newest chapter was devastating. BUT. WUkong shirtless and Mac wearing his husband's pyjamas?????? (also Wukong spooning Mac when he originally allowed Mac to be the big spoon so he'd maintain control over the situation but now Mac trusts Wukong enough to give up that control???)

technically they were facing each other, and Mac had his arm over Wukong waist, but sweet nonetheless

@kiwi-kiwidraws ha chiesto: More heart break till the very end, right Kyri?

yes

@fresastar ha chiesto: just have to say is Will mk and wukong have a talk about everything that will happen from mk becoming immortal because wukongs friends later on dies naturally and wukong may have been sad and devastated about it, So maybe wukong can tell mk how to handle this realization or he tries to help because again he lived his whole life seeing his family go on and his friends leave and dies. sorry if this is much, you don't have to answer this😅

Yes, they will talk about it, but that's more a future conversation.

@worddraws ha chiesto: Wait so is MK immortal in the until the heat death of the universe way, in the immortal immortal way, or in the there’s no heat death of the universe and the earth exists forever way? I wish to know how angsty him being immortal is

He is "there’s no heat death of the universe and the earth exists forever way" immortal, but he's NOT INVINCIBLE! He is still capable to being killed.

@angelikis1 ha chiesto: HI!! 😁 I'M A BIG FAN OF YOUR COMICS!! also i have a question: are we ever gonna see any of MK's clones?

Eh, not for now.

@5hiny5tar-ceph ha chiesto: Heyyyyy!!!! So! I've really liked this last ep (almost made me cry ngl-) But- Shouldn't Pigsy and Tang spend more time with Xiaotian know that they know that he's immortal, and have more moments as a family, instead of doing that cooking activity with Wukong and Mac (like, I get why but still- (no offense))? Or do they just make this activity when Xiaotian is not around (Maybe hanging out with Mei or Red Son I dunno-)?

MK was with Mei when they did this.

@purplemango26 ha chiesto: Random question, but this popped up into my head a few seconds ago. Since you know and watch Lego Monkid Kid and even have an amazing au of it, I'm curious. Do you also know/watch Ninjago? Considering the whole thing with the switch of animation for Lego Monkie Kid from Flying Bark to Wild Brain who just happened to animate Ninjago, I want to know if you have at any point watched the series and or movie. By the way, huge thanks for all that you've done for feeding the LMK community. You are my top 1 provider of Shadowpeach content so I hope that you'll stay nice and healthy in the long run 💜 It's amazing how consistent you are when staying on schedule!

I watched Ninjago when I was a kid, but like only up to the 6th season (yes, I know, I'm very much behind). I also saw the movie

@roonotrue ha chiesto: Hi, Kyri!! This is my first ask on your blog, but I was just curious, with your ShadowPeach Bio Parents AU, what are your height headcanons for all the characters?? I've been trying to find some to use as reference for some of my own Ao3 fanfics/what everyone generally seems to agree on, and I figured since you're literally my favorite lmk artist, I'd ask for your headcanons!! (Idk if maybe you've answered something like this before, so feel free to ignore it you have, lol) Okie, thank you for your time, and I love your art a lot, and I'm super excited for the next update, okay byeeeee-

I'm not gonna list all the character, just the main ones, also I'm using the international metric scale because I'm a normal human being.

Macaque: 180cm

Wukong: 175cm

MK: 166cm

Mei: 172cm

Red Son (glamoured): 179cm

Red Son (True Form): 205cm

Tang: 178cm

Pigsy: 140cm

@peanut-with-wifi-access ha chiesto: Would you be okay with people writing their own sequels/continuations of the shadowpeach bio parent au when it eventually ends?

yeah sure, as long as you credit me and the au

@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: SOBBING OMFG but I also have a question lol. What exactly did MK mean when he asked Nezha to "check his aura"? As in like see if he's immortal or something else? I'm just a bit confused lol

yes it was for his immortality

@roseltelle ha chiesto: I'm curious in a universe where Wukong raised Mk when would macaque have met mk?

there are several fics exploring this concept, like A Son of Two Dads or Squished Apricots. Some of them consider that Macaque knew from almost the beginning, in others Macaque discover it after they met in the show.

@internet-grab-my-tumblr ha chiesto: So i have a baby monkie OC, but I’ve never been able to decide how to start it…if I were to, I’m, use your AU as a springboard (after all this nonsense Nuwa decides to give the monkies an apology gift in the form of a child they can actually raise together), would this be okay? It would you prefer any fics inspired by your work leave out OCs?

you can use your OC as long as you credit the AU part you want to use in your story.

@lagt-trinket-box ha chiesto: Sorry to bother But are you gonna create a thread of all the redraws of the art event road from parenthood? Just asking because I am curious to see more people redraws!

I’ll try to reblog as many as I can!

@twilight-bai-he ha chiesto: Is mei gonna be the maid of honor for spicynoodles wedding 🥰🥰? High chance she will be 🐉

of course!

@shay-bug ha chiesto: Hi! Sorry to bother you, but would it be possible if you could make car stickers for your shadowpeach bio parents au? You don't have too I just thought it would be cool since I got a new car Also, I thought I read a while back that you said after shadowpeach bio parents au comic you were might make a sonadow comic? Is that true, or did I make it up in my head? Even if you changed your plans, I'm sure the next comic you make is going to be wonderful! I love you work! Sending lost of kudos! Also, at this point, I think the shadowpeach bio parents au is a graphic novel, lol.

unfortunately RedBubble doesn’t have the option for car decals….

@darker-moon ha chiesto: are panel compilations allowed in the new shadowpeach bio-parents takeover?? i have zero talent and zero time to do anything else :'D

up to 10 panels yes.

@shadowlilly101 ha chiesto: So was she going to put mk into the piller or was she saying that if wukong had gotten mk he would have died

that if Wukong would have found it in one way or the other also heaven would have noticed.

@domo-fan1 ha chiesto: I love that Wukong acknowledges that whole yes they were happy in the past, it wasn't exactly healthy. And when they met again after years, they weren't happy but it was more healthy just because they weren't holding back their thoughts as much. True, it was mostly negative but honestly is nice. But!! As they move forward as a couple, they have to leave the past behind as it's nice but it's riddled with problems of the variety and that the future should be better. Also I feel like they'll be that sickening sweet couple every now and then, before returning to typically them. But their sweet moments are just so random that just makes everyone around facepalm. I mean we already saw them do that when they free fall in the sky to kiss. If MK follows in their footsteps, Redson is gonna have speed run in adjusting lol.

poor redson he’s going to print a tshirt that says “do not interrupt him, or else” since MK is never gonna let him go and will remain climbed to his man 24/7

@straightally2001 ha chiesto: I'm confused though. Wasn't MK a kid, not a baby, when he ended up at Pigsy's Noodles? Also, I love your Shadowpeach Bio Parents au comic series! You are one of my favorite artists ever Kyri! If you are open to suggestions, I have an idea for an au you can make after you complete this one. How about an au where Macaque was never brought back to life by LBD and was instead reincarnated. Obviously with the ships Shadowpeach, Spicynoodles, and Freenoodles

he is around 3 years old, he looks much smaller because Guanyin is wayy taller than a normal human being.

also I’m 70% sure I read a fic about that.

@raspberrymixin ha chiesto: O k we've got kai in the fray of spicy noodles child but what about Nya? His sister? I have an idea for her to me like Mei's adoptive child? And them growing up be be close as siblings? Cuz you know nya is the water ninja and Mei's family blood line are Chinese water dragons - just a thought- It's okay if you don't answer

yes Nya is Mei child and the two of them are so close that they consider themself siblings, much like MK and Mei.

@green000moth ha chiesto: Do You plan to do more spicy scenes in Shadowpeach biologic parents au?

nope

@lordmushroomkat ha chiesto: I'm a spicynoodles shipper now and I blame you <3

good

@fanficmaniatic ha chiesto: I mean this in the best possible way but the way you draw Macaque makes me want to hit him rEALLY hard in the facee with a commically large harmer. It activates my cute agression in the worst possible way I need to smash his head. I undertand JTTW Wukong on a molecular level. It wasnt a fight, It was cute agression.

when I draw Macaque I get hit by a comically large hammer because In realise I will never get a man like him.

@shadowlilly101 ha chiesto: He can hear and see the past and show others?

yesss

@king-ryuusei ha chiesto: okay. So first off, i LOVE this serie. Always excited for every chapter drop ! Your art is amazing, love what you did. now on to my question : how does Chaos energy does exactly in your au ? (Went on the lmk wiki and the lack of explication of what it dies exacly is criminal) so could you explain to us what exactly it does ? Pretty Please ? (PS: i know i said it once but i love the comic. Can’t believe we're almost at the end. Hope you have a great day/night. Byeeee!)

i’ll redirect you to THIS post

#ask box #shadowpeach bio parents au

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soaps-mohawk · 11 months ago

Text

I'm going to be honest

I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.

I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.

It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.

I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.

It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.

Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.

Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.

First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.

I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.

So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.

I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.

I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.

So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.

I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.

I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.

I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.

There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.

I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.

Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.

I'm forcing it and I'm tired.

It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.

I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.

It's not you, it's me.

So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.

Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.

I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.

I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.

Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.

I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.

It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.

I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.

This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.

Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.

Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.

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hoshinasblade · 4 months ago

Note

What you think Soshiro would do if he found out his gf was insecure about her stretch marks?

this is one of the most recent asks so thank u anon for sending!! im still in the process of going over my posts and editing some stuff (mostly changing my tags lol) and answering asks and putting them on queue. i just really like this one so im posting now (might have some typos as im in my phone hoho). hope u guys like it 🥰

"i don't know," you said as you try to bury your face on the big mug of beer you are drinking. "i haven't even been naked around him, like ever." the last sentence was almost a whisper, as if you were saying it to yourself more than confessing it to your nosy friend.

"aren't you guys dating for months now?" you were expecting this response, sure, but you don't think you were prepared for an answer at all. "honestly girl, your man is like, really hot," your friend picked up a french fry from the plate in front of you and took a bite before speaking again. "if that was me, i would be naked with him 25 hours a day."

"we only have 24 hours a day," you reminder her.

"exactly," she winked at you in response.

you did not want to admit it but your friend, a college batchmate from way back, was not entirely wrong. landing a guy like vice-captain hoshina soshiro was never in your bingo card, and truthfully, had it been another girl that he chose to date, you are pretty sure he would be getting some action.

yes, action meaning naked time.

sex.

it was not that you are a prude, or worse, a conservative who thinks that women are ought to be virgins otherwise they are worthless. and it wasn't also that you haven't done some things with your boyfriend hoshina as well, considering how you are very much aware how he's so good with his hands. no, the issue is that except for that one time during your fourth month together when it almost happened, you have not gone all the way with hoshina at all.

you simply attributed it to him being a gentleman, but hoshina did not dare ask when you stopped him that one time. but you should have known that at some point, he is going to want to know why it seems you don't want to be intimate with him.

"is it me?" he asked, trying to hide the slight hurt from his face. "i don't have bad breath, do i?"

count on hoshina to crack a joke during such a serious situation. he just got home from his scheduled weekend duty that night, and although claiming that he's exhausted from work, hoshina was apparently not tired enough. so a chaste peck on your lips turned to a heated makeout session that turned to him taking his shirt off.

he was kissing the soft skin down your neck towards your chest when you froze just as he was about to take your blouse off.

"come on, talk to me." hoshina's voice was gentle, and an annoying voice inside your head murmured something along the lines of how he deserves someone better, with how you're acting right now. "hey, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it. i don't mind. but if something's wrong, i'd prefer if i know about it."

you sighed. hoshina doesn't necessarily deserve someone better; he just deserves the truth.

instead of telling the truth, you showed it to him.

as soon your top was off, your fingers started tracing the thin, white lines on the skin near your ribs. these lines look like thread that stretch to your sides. you even have some close to your inner arms. you were avoiding hoshina's eyes when you pointed out how these stretch marks extend until your hips.

"i think i just feel weird about other people seeing it," you said. "i mean, they don't look pretty."

now that you've said your piece, you felt a bit relieved. in reality you know it sounds so shallow, superficial even. but as a girl - as a woman - you were no stranger to other people's expectations of how you should physically look. in the end, perhaps you just did not want to disappoint hoshina by showing him just how imperfect you are.

you were surprised when hoshina unbuckled his belt and began undoing the buttons of his pants. mouth agape, you just did not foresee this reaction.

"w-what are you doing?"

hoshina stripped until he was only on his boxers. stretching one of his legs out in front of you, his hand slowly lifted the hem of his underwear until you can see the flesh of his upper thighs.

"oh i have those too," he said, showing you white, indented streaks up to his hips. "i think you get them when you grow, i'm not hundred percent sure."

hoshina's forefinger continued trailing on his own skin. "it's okay if you don't think they're pretty, you know. not everything has to be beautiful. what you have to remember is that having stuff like this, is completely normal."

you should have known because it was after all the reason you love him - everyone might admire vice-captain hoshina soshiro mainly because of his leadership skills and out-of-this-world physique, you fell for him because he's the most reasonable and kind man you have ever met.

"i love you, you know that right?" you asked.

hoshina could only chuckle. "and all these time i was worrying you didn't want to be naked with me because you were hiding a tattoo of narumi's face somewhere there."

it was your turn to laugh. hoshina grabbed one of your hands, caressing it. "hey look, it's just skin, okay? it's just skin but it's still you." looking right at you, hoshina smiled. "it's still you, and i love you."

#whew #might need an edit tomorrow but now im going to bed #i have a confession: when i was writing the part where i mentioned hoshina's boxers #i cant stop thinking about what kind of underwear hoshina wears lmao #maybe i should write a headcanon about that #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 x reader #hoshina soshiro fic #lian replies #hoshina

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gilverrwrites · 11 months ago

Text

Dickies Mom has got it goin’ on

Had to get this convoluted, angsty but fun idea out of my head. One day I might expand it into a better-written, fleshed-out fic, but for now please enjoy my yappy ramblings.

Wally West/BatMom!Reader

CWs: Wally being a not so great friend.

So like, imagine you're roughly late 20s/early 30s and happily married to the love of your life Bruce Wayne, there's an age gap sure, but ultimately that's not important. What matters is that you've made a life with him and his children. You're especially close with Dick, his eldest (late teens/early 20s) as you've known him since he was a teenybopper.

All is well, until one day in true comic book fashion; you die. You sacrifice yourself for a greater cause. It's all very tragic.

A decade later, it turns out fate isn't done with you. You've no idea how or why, but you wake in a coffin one day and have to claw yourself out of it. Cold, alone, and afraid, you make your way back to Wayne Manor. There you're greeted by your husband Bruce, but not really. This Bruce is greying. There are fine lines on his face you've never seen before and a ring on his finger that does not match yours.

You're not mad, it's been 10 years, and he was supposed to move on! But it doesn't feel like 10 years to you, it feels like only yesterday everything was perfect. It's devastating.

Queue Dick finding out. He just so happened to be hanging with his best pal Wally at the time, they both drop everything to rush over in a flash.

Your first night back on earth is messy. It's emotional, and stressful, a hell of a roller coaster. Ultimately, you spend most of it with Dick and Jay who surprise is also back from the dead. Dick is really your emotional soundboard, while Jay offers more practical advice about navigating a world that has gone on without you. He recommends you just take some time off, heal your wounds, catch-up with friends and family. You should learn from his mistakes.

Wally helps too. Primarily in a comedian relief way but also just as a sunny friendly face. His freckles and kind green eyes go a long way in making you feel at ease amongst a sea of familiar strangers.

He's adamant you've met before but you insist you'd never forget eyes that green and it stops his heart. You mean nothing by it, but it means a lot to him.

After you’ve parted ways, Dick makes a point of telling Wally not to flirt with you if he ever meets you again.

“Flirting? I wasn't flirting.”

“I was there.”

“But, come on man she's hot!”

“She’s my mom.”

“But she's our age now.”

“Wally, she's my mom!”

Eventually, after a lot of teasing, Wally surrenders but he deliberately makes no promises. He can't, not when he's been replaying the same 5-second interaction you'd had at Dicks 18th Birthday party many moons ago in his head over and over. He’ll try for his best friend, but it seems to him like this was meant to be.

Bruce may not be in love with you anymore, but he still loves you. So he helps how he can, offers you food and shelter, medical attention, a job, whatever you need to get yourself back on your feet.

You decide to take Jasons advice. Bruce still has a lot of your things; your clothes and your car. You ‘borrow’ gas money from your widowed husband and hit the road to seek out lost friends and family. Sad, but eager to get away from the city that no longer feels like home. You leave your rings with Alfred, a sign to Bruce that you expect nothing from him, that you'll leave him and his new wife be even though it breaks your heart.

The first stop is Dick, obviously, since you have to travel through Blüd. After joining him for a routine patrol, you spend the night on his couch, eating Thai food and talking about his life since you… passed. Nightwing as just finding his footing back then, but now he's a force to rival Batman.

You're two states over when you get a call from a number you don't recognise. Most of the people you know have changed their numbers since you last spoke, so don't hesitate to answer. You're surprised however by whose on the other end.

“Wally West? How did you get this number?”

“From Dick.”

He's not lying, he's just omitting the fact that Dick doesn't know Wally got your number from his phone bill. If he didn't want that info getting out he should probably put his bills somewhere other than a lockbox in a safe and quit being only person in the entire world to still actively use a landline.

His not-a-lie works however, the implication of Dick's approval helps you to let down those mother-appropriate conversation walls.

“Heard you're travelling cross country, any chance you plan on stopping in Keystone?”

“Why? Whats in Keystone?”

“Um, the Patriots?”

“Baseball?”

“And hotdogs! Al who serves em does not skimp on all the toppings, you've gotta try em.”

“You want me to detour in Keystone for baseball and hotdogs?”

“Well, there is something else.”

“And whats that?”

“Guess.”

“Unmmm… You?”

“Ding ding ding. She's smart and beautiful, a woman after my own heart.”

He's cute. So cute. He's no Bruce, but Bruce never made you laugh like this.

“Wally, this is a bad ideas. I was married until like a week ago.”

“And? I'm not askin’ you to walk down the aisle again, just one game and like 20 hotdogs. For me. You don't have to eat that many unless you want too.”

#gilverrrambles #wally west #wally west/reader #wally west x reader

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adarafaelbarba · 7 months ago

Note

“come and sit on my face and i’ll show you how much i missed you”

With barba? Slight age gap, he keeps canceling dates and she’s mad that Carmen had to tell her and not him

A/N: Rafael is 48 in this one (it's right before he leaves for Iowa) and reader is 33 😊 Warnings: Smut, minors DNI! Some arguing in the beginning, looks like they won't make up, but spicy in the second half, Rafael using his skills to win her back.

You were beyond pissed at Rafael. Of course, you'd expected there might be some hiccups early on in the relationship, you were both busy people, and some nights might be harder to plan dates on than others.

But this was the fifth time this month that something had come up, and he'd have to cancel. Worse still was the fact that he'd gotten his assistant, Carmen, to call you about it.

On a normal day, you and Carmen got on like a charm, but you could hear in her voice when she called you, that she did not want to make this call.

So when Rafael finally showed up at your place, at 11pm, you nearly slammed the door in his face.

"Amor! Please! I'm sorry okay, something came up with the case last minute and I couldn't just leave it!" He tried, but you couldn't even look at him.

"Always something to do with work. I understand you have a demanding job, Rafael, but so do I, and I still make time for you. You couldn't just have asked one of the 25 paralegals working under the SVU department at One Hogan Place to fix it for you?"

"It's not that easy, this case is too delicate--"

"If they don't get to try the hard cases, how will they learn?! I asked for time off, you could've done the same!" You didn't want to yell at him, but this might be the last straw.

"Please, let me make it up to you, amor--"

"I don't know if you can."

He shot forward and grabbed your hand, pulling at it until you looked at him. "This can't be it--amor, please give me another chance!"

You bit your lip, looking at him, he looked like he was about to cry, a weakness of yours when it came to him, "Rafael--"

"Please, amor, I'll do anything--."

You shook your head, needing time.

---

Three months after you last saw Rafael, you were at the Manhattan SVU, covering a shift for Sonny who had to call in sick, something that honestly never happened.

Upon entering, you spotted the last person you wanted to see, standing in Liv's office. The two looked so homey, it stirred something inside you that you didn't like.

Sitting down at Sonny's desk, you tried your best to ignore the feeling, and going about the case you were working instead, when suddenly there was a tap at your shoulder. You looked up to see Amanda nudging you.

"Barba is looking at you, what gives?"

You flushed slightly. "It's complicated," you murmured, not wanting anyone else to hear, least of all, Rafael.

"Wait?! You two?!" Amanda exclaimed, making you want the earth to eat you up whole. "Aren't you like 15 years younger than him?!"

"Is that any of your concern, detective Rollins?" Rafael's voice sounded stern, like an angry school teacher, stirring something completely different from earlier inside you.

Amanda managed to get an "I'm sorry out" before she sat back down to work on her own stuff.

"Can we talk, y/n?" Rafael was right in front of you now.

"What's there to talk about--." But you got up regardless, not wanting to have an audience as you broke down.

The two of you made your way to the on-call room, no one would be using it for the next hour, so he could try and explain himself in peace for now.

Once the door was closed, he trapped you between it and his body, looking down at you. "Sit on my face, amor, and I'll show you how much I've missed you." he whispered, then you heard the lock clicking behind you.

"We're at work--"

"I can be quiet, can you?"

As if on queue, you let out a whimper. "we shouldn't--"

He dipped his head, his nose brushing against your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. "Let me show you how much I've missed you", he repeated.

It felt like your legs were turning into jelly, and you leant up to finally kiss him. The kiss turning desperate as you made out. Rafael taking the opportunity to grab your waist and walk you to the bed.

"Strip for me." He was as demanding now as he was in court, which honestly turned you on more than you wanted to admit.

Doing as you were told, you stripped for Rafael while he laid down on the bed, getting ready for you.

"Now be a good girl and sit on my face, but keep quiet, won't want the others to hear you."

You nodded, straddling his head. As soon as you did, he pulled you down onto him, beginning the onslaughter on your pussy. A small yelp coming from you, but you were quick to clamp a hand over your mouth. Your eyes rolling back at how good he made you feel.

It would take no effort at all from him to get you to the edge, and he knew that, which made him so much more lethal when he gave you pleasure.

And sure enough, you soon found yourself on the edge of your release, on of your hands going into his hair, holding him there while he helped you through the best orgasm you'd ever had.

Getting off him, he had the biggest grin on his face, and you wanted to stay mad, but in that moment, you only felt love for him.

He got up after you, pulling you in for a heated kiss as he rubbed your heated body up and down. "I'll never betray you again, amor, please give me another chance."

You nodded at that, "one more chance, no more." Which he agreed to, helping you get redressed.

~~~

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#my writing #law and order svu #rafael barba #rafael barba smut #rafael barba x reader

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jifloulette · 8 months ago

Text

It reminded me of you.

relationships with blue lock boys as kpop songs . . .

pairing -> itoshi rin, bachira meguru, yoichi isagi x gn!reader (seperate !)

warnings -> some angst on some parts, swearing here and there, might be ooc ? not proofread !!

word count -> rin and yoichi's is 0.7k, bachira's is 0.9k

author's note -> please click the links on the song names !! it'll help you understand why i chose that specific song ^^

. . . itoshi rin !

♫ now playing . . run2u by stayc - - - next in queue . . save me save you by wjsn

You knew the risks of dating someone cold and stoic like RIN ITOSHI, hell you were even surprised that he liked you back. You knew damn well that you were going to get hurt in the process, but you didn't care. All you wanted to do was to be with him. It doesn't matter if he's happy (you might not see it on the outside but being his s/o made you know how he is if he's happy), disheartened or upset. Your friends warned, fuck, even your classmates who you didn't even know or liked told you so. They just didn't know him like you did. Yes, you've gotten hurt before but he would ALWAYS apologize. You've learned to become patient for him during his breakdowns, he would say things like "I fuckin' hate my lukewarm brother." and "I need to become fucking better, how else am I.. gonna beat him..". You were confused whenever his breakdowns happened, it wasn't a weekly thing for him to do that, it only happened whenever you noticed him become tense and pressured. You didn't know why he hated his brother, I mean the Itoshi Sae? But you've never asked him about it, knowing he'd get agitated.

You were the first ever person he fell for, the first person he genuinely liked being around. RIN ITOSHI was scared for the first time again, scared that one day you might leave him too. Scared that he might scare you away because god, he knows how he acts whenever he's feeling distressed. He couldn't understand it, why have you stayed this long with him? Why did you treat him so differently? Weren't you just using him for his money and his fame? He knew the answers to all of his questions when one day, he just couldn't take it anymore. He'd accidentally lashed out his anger on you, the one person who he actually cared for. RIN ITOSHI had accidentally hit you, it didn't hurt much, yet it still alarmed you. He realized what he did just in time before he held you in his arms, apologizing over and over again as he cried onto your shirt. "Baby.. it's okay, really.." you said to him while caressing his hair. "N-no.. it's not! I'd accidentally hurt you, the one person I genuinely cared for..! H-how is that okay?!" RIN ITOSHI replied, you carefully asked him if he wanted to talk about why he felt like this to which he hesitantly said yes to. "I wanna know what happened, Rinnie.. don't try to hide it. I'll always be by your side", just by saying those words, RIN ITOSHI poured his heart out on his vent to you, saying that he felt distressed because he heard some of your classmates saying that his brother will always be better than him. He told you the reason why he hated his brother, he recalled the night where his brother said some things that was too painful to say out loud. After he was done, you held him in your arms once more, RIN ITOSHI couldn't take it anymore. He cried once again, asking you why you had stayed with him this long, why were you here listening to his vents, were you just getting dirt to gossip about him? You asked him saying, "Rinnie.. you wanna know why I've been here with you for so long?", he looked up at you with his beautiful teal eyes and simply nodded, "The only reason why I'm here with you is because I love you. Not for your fame, not for your success, and certainly not for your money but for you..", RIN ITOSHI was surprised, you really weren't using him? He had doubted you for a bit but oh, your tone while you said that to him made him believe that what you were saying is true. That's all that he needed to hear before hugging you tightly again, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Thank you so so fucking much, y/n.. you don't know how much I love you..", the black-haired boy in front of you said.

RIN ITOSHI now believes that true love exists, and true love is wherever you are. He didn't care if you saw him at his most vulnerable state, he knew you wouldn't gossip that to your other friends. RIN ITOSHI now knows the answers to all of his questions, he knows that you will stay with him until the end of times.

. . . bachira meguru !

♪ now playing . . love is lonely by NMIXX

BACHIRA MEGURU was convinced that you were his special someone. You were convinced that he was your special someone too. For all of BACHIRA MEGURU's life, he'd been lonely. Only sharing his love and appreciation to his mother who held deeply in his heart. The second you went up to him, asking if he was okay, he felt skeptical. He wasn't stupid, so he'd ask you if someone ordered you to come to him just to record him at his weakest. You were taken aback yet you knew what the others said about him and his "monster", you really could care less about what they said about him. "Huh? No.. I came here because I saw feeling down after classes ended." you replied, you took your hand out and asked him if he wanted to come with you to go to a place that was special to you. He was reluctant at first but eventually gave in. He'd noticed you in class before, you weren't like the others. You genuinely had a pure heart.

You ran in front of him while holding his hand still. BACHIRA MEGURU swore he felt a big, genuine smile starting to grow on his face. Were you the person the monster inside him was looking for? You introduced him to a small bench, not that far from the school. You told him how you discovered this place as you were randomly walking home and decided that it was gonna be your special place. You had brought fairy lights to hang on the trees that were around the bench. The two of you sat on it and it was as if fate that you guys fit perfectly on it. You went on rambling about how you'd always wanted to be his friend but you were to shy to ask him, and how he'd been the first ever person you had brought along to go here. He didn't even notice how there was light pink tint starting to grow on his face. Ever since then, you and BACHIRA MEGURU had been together as if the two of you were cursed for all eternity to be together, he wouldn't mind if that was the case.

It wasn't long before he had started to fall for you, just the way you would talk to him, take care of him, comfort him, and treat him as if he were an actual person were just a few reasons on why he'd fallen for you. If he could, he would rant on for hours and hours on why he likes you so much. Before he knew it, it had already been 6 months since the two of you had met. You'd asked him to go your guys' special place to which he had ecstatically said yes to. He obviously wanted to at least look good for you, even though you said that whatever he would wear, he'd still look good. The second he arrived at the bench, he saw that you weren't there which was strange.. He thought maybe you were just playing games with him. "Y/n! You can come out now~!" BACHIRA MEGURU shouted playfully, yet you still didn't come out. He noticed an envelope on the bench with a heart sticker on it, he knew that he would want you to open it knowing that only you and him knew about this secret hangout spot and thought you had left it for him to find. He noticed a handwritten "To: BACHIRA MEGURU, my best friend in the whole entire world" on it, and when he opened the envelope, a long piece of paper was in it. He slowly unfolded it and read the contents of the letter. "Dear Megu, I'm sorry I couldn't come to you face to face to tell you what I've been feeling recently. The thing is, the second you held my hand that late afternoon, I fell for you. Call it stupid but god, I immediately fell for you. The fact you didn't hesitate to come with me just made me blush thinking about it. I've always knew I liked you before we were even friends, but I just thought of it as infatuation. You really did prove me wrong because you were the person I've been meaning to find ever since I watched romance movies and discovered what love is. The fact you listen to my endless talks about whatever really made me fall for you even more! In the span of the 6 months of our friendship, you became someone that I loved being around with. I want to end our friendship though.. and maybe start having a new relationship, a romantic one. Soo.. what do you say? Will you accept?", the letter said and god did he fall for you even more. The fact that you loved him the same way he loved you, oh who was he kidding, he's head over heels for you. As he was coming to the end of the letter, a pair of hands slowly hugged him from behind. He knew it was you, he recognized your touch all too well. The second you hugged him, he turned around and picked you up. "Oh y/n! You don't know how long I've been waiting for this day!" You were surprised, you really didn't expect that unpredictable action of his. Your smile became as big as the entire world to say the least, your eyes having some sort of sparkle in it. "So, do you accept..?" you asked gleefully, to which BACHIRA MEGURU replied by kissing you.

BACHIRA MEGURU had finally found the true meaning of love, it was the embodiment of you. The hardships of his life he had left behind due to you. He went inside the school campus with a smile on his face knowing you would be there waiting for him. BACHIRA MEGURU had finally fallen, he had let himself fall for you.

. . . isagi yoichi !

𝄞 now playing . . cool with you by New Jeans

If there was one word to describe how ISAGI YOICHI felt whenever he was with you, it would be comfort. Just being beside you, it would bring him to ease knowing that you were right there with him. You guys could be scrolling on your phones, showing each other different videos that reminded you guys of each other and he would already fall deeper in love with you. You understood him better than anyone else could, you knew what to do and what to say whenever he felt sorrowful. Whether it be losing a really really important soccer match or if he felt insecure and unconfident. Maybe that's why he liked you so fucking much. Your presence just soothes his soul, he didn't know how to explain it, it just did.

ISAGI YOICHI didn't always need for you to tell him how much you loved him, he could always feel it, as if the two of you were somehow telepathically connected. Just simply holding his hand, caressing his hair, and telling him how good he was at playing soccer was all he needed to know. People could see how deep the connection the two of you had, even before you guys were together. Whatever emotion he was feeling, it was almost as if you felt it the same way he did, maybe that's why the two of you had such a strong bond with each other. The two of you could go days and days doing the same thing over and over again but it wouldn't bore him, not when the person who he cherishes most was with him. Sometimes, ISAGI YOICHI finds himself zoning out during classes just thinking about you! He just can't help it, he's totally the type to chat you "I miss you" the second you part ways after walking home from school. He really cherishes every moment he has with you, even if he's not physically next to you, just seeing you makes him relaxed. That's definitely his motivation whenever you watch his games as well, just seeing you cheer your heart out for him, he can't help but drive himself to win, just for you.

Even if he knows how much he means to you, he sometimes can't help but doubt himself, he finds himself wondering if the effort he's putting into the relationship is the same as the effort you put in. "Baby.. do you think that sometimes.. I'm somehow lacking something in our relationship..?" the deep blue-eyed boy in front of you asks, "Huh? Love, of course not! You've given so much into our relationship, what else could I ask for?" you reply, your hand cupping his cheek. "'m sorry baby, I just felt down.." ISAGI YOICHI says, "Oh baby.. don't you ever think that you're dragging our relationship down, okay? I know you love me the same way I love you." you remind him, kissing his forehead. You see him blush and the tip of his ears turn red and you pinch his cheek as you tease him for being so so cute! "H-hey..! Why'd you just randomly pinch me!" the dark blue haired boy says, "Well, you're just so so so cute and I can't believe you're mine~!" you playfully respond. His face becomes even redder now that you said that. You chuckle at the sight of him and you pepper his face with kisses, on his lips, his neck, his jawline, his forehead, you bet that you didn't leave any part of his face untouched. It was moments like these in where he thought that the two of you were the only ones in the world, he has an album of memories in his brain stored with each and every memory the two of you had ever made. God was he crazy about you.

ISAGI YOICHI believed, no, he knew that you were his soulmate and that you knew that he was yours. He would find comfort whenever you were with him, and though he isn't the most verbally talkative lover, you knew how much he adores you. (Please let him daydream about how ethereal you would look at your guys' wedding, he would very much appreciate it, even if you find it funny)

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