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#now I can have the same beautiful moment in one gif which is like... a miracle for tech-challenged me!
silenzahra · 1 day
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Luigi the Bookworm 📚✨
Today, April 23rd, we celebrate Book Day in Spain with a beautiful tradition: gifting books and roses. In the past few months, I've started to see Luigi, my favorite Mario character, as a bookworm, thanks to some art pieces like this one, by Mikis_art94 on Instagram, and this one, a short comic by Sarahsketckesluigi, also on Instagram.
And, since I'm also a bookworm myself, I thought of celebrating this day by sharing with you my own take on Luigi's bookish side 🤭 Warning: this is gonna be LONG, so make sure to grab some drinks and snacks and make yourselves comfortable! 💖
(Also, I may go and turn some of these into actual fanfics at some point because, well... I got myself inspired 👀🤭✨)
Please go and check this amazing post by @itsavee4117! It's a companion to this one and you can see many of my headcanons illustrated in his lovely art style!!! 📚💖
@bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @peaches2217 @nuctoria @keakruiser
@pepperycar @kelbreyworshipper @roscolate and anyone else who might be interested: I hope you enjoy! Happy Book Day! 📚🥀✨
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Part 1: Luigi's Bookish Side
Luigi is a person who tends to get excited easily, and when he does, he experiences those feelings with great intensity. This applies to all aspects of his life, and reading, one of his greatest passions, is no exception.
In terms of genres, Luigi is generally open to read anything. He enjoys realistic novels, historical novels, classic novels, mystery novels, sci-fi novels... And he also reads books about gardening, cooking, baking and mechanics from time to time. The only things he’s unable to consume are thrillers and horror. He's tried, but, with all the times he's had to face King Boo, he's had more than enough terror and frights to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.
His favorite genres are fantasy and romance. The former, because traveling to made-up worlds allows him to forget about his real-life problems and offers him an escape from his daily life, which can often be exhausting. The second, because he’s a complete romantic who loves to see people loving each other and living happily ever after. And also... because of something that has to do with Daisy.
Luigi lives every book he reads with the same intensity. For him, it's as if the characters really existed, as if they were his friends, people he can talk to, share common interests with, and also help to achieve their purposes in life (i.e. in the books they’re from).
And maybe... just maybe... he's fallen in love more than once while reading and now he has a loooong list of literary crushes thet only keeps growing.
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So, when he’s reading, Luigi laughs with the characters, cries when one of them suffers or dies, his heart tearing in his chest, and is deeply moved every time a tender moment occurs, such as a kiss, a hug or a cute scene involving, for example, a baby or an animal.
His favorite stories are those about siblings. Not only because he enjoys reading family stories, but also because, without even thinking about it, he often finds it easy to put himself in the place of the younger sibling. For him, therefore, it’s as if he were reading a story starring himself and his beloved brother Mario, and he loves to imagine that they’re going on adventures together in an unknown world. Almost like when they first arrived in the Mushroom Kingdom.
Over the years, Luigi has gathered quite a collection of books, so Mario, the moment they move into the little house in the Mushroom Kingdom that Peach offered them, doesn't hesitate to suggest to his brother that he use the extra room to build himself a small library. Luigi is not too sure at first, thinking that maybe his brother would like to have an office, but Mario insists.
So Luigi has a small library in his new home, which he soon fills to the top with books, and it’s his pride and joy. He and Mario assembled the bookshelves together, which they brought all the way from Brooklyn, and now Luigi has a wonderful reading nook where he can isolate himself to let his imagination run wild for hours. It is, along with the bedroom he shares with Mario, his favorite room in the whole house.
For Luigi, reading is something so important, meaningful and almost sacred in his life, that he has a whole ritual that he performs every time he sits down to read. He has a rocking chair in his small library, a present from his brother when they moved to live in the Mushroom Kingdom, and he has it placed right next to the window and in front of the fireplace. He likes to be able to see the sky when he looks up from his reading, and he usually stares at the clouds or the stars while he daydreams about or reflects on what he has just read. During the summer, he usually keeps it open, as he loves to read in natural light while the gentle breeze from Peach's land cools him, and in winter he keeps it firmly closed while the fireplace warms him.
Luigi loves to light a scented candle to help him get in the perfect mood for reading. His favorite scent is vanilla, as it reminds him of his favorite princess, but he also loves lavender and cinnamon. He usually makes himself a hot drink, sometimes tea, sometimes chocolate, and brings a nice blanket to warm up, which is why his favorite time to read is the coldest time of the year, especially autumn. He also prepares his set of post-its to mark his favorite sentences and parts of the book, and he has a ritual for colors too: yellow for funny moments, blue for sentences that make him reflect on them, red or pink for romantic scenes…
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Luigi knows that there are many people who write directly in their books, but, for him, that is unthinkable. He sees books as a valuable and precious object, a repository of stories that helps him disconnect from reality and let his imagination run wild. He respects what everyone does with their books, but he’s simply incapable. Especially if it’s a book he has been given as a gift.
His favorite copies are hardcover, even more so if they include a dust jacket. He treasures all his books with the same affection, but those are undoubtedly his weak point. The most precious of all is a hardcover, dust-jacketed edition of his favorite book, which was a present from Mario, and which also has painted edges.
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Usually, when it's time to read, Mario is either napping, spending quality time with Peach, or doing something else around the house. Polterpup, on the other hand, takes the opportunity to approach his owner and, if it's summer, lie at his feet while he reads. If it's winter, however, Polterpup will jump into Luigi's lap without his permission and cuddle up and fall asleep immediately, before Luigi even has time to recover from the fright and resume reading. (Check out @pepperycar's funny addition to this!)
Luigi is a speed reader. Usually, when he starts reading, he doesn't intend to go too fast. It's just that, after so many years reading, his eyes have acquired an astonishing speed, and he’s able to retain every word in his head despite going through them very quickly. Also, if a book really hooks him, he’s unable to put it down until he finishes it, which has caused him to stay up late several nights and go to work half asleep the next day, but it's always totally worth it. Because of this ability, he can finish books of about 300-400 pages in just a few hours, and sometimes also 500 if he gets caught up completely.
Luigi LOVES to buy books. His favorite visits are to Sarasaland and the bookstore, and he also does a lot of online shopping to support small publishers. Every time a new book comes home, he gets excited as if it's the first time, and always asks Mario to please record him while he's unboxing it. Mario unhesitatingly stands on the other side of the camera and makes sure that every shot is perfect and that the book looks great, and Luigi, delighted and grateful, always gives him the tightest and most spontaneous hugs every time they finish filming.
And, of course, once he has the book in his hands, Luigi squeals and kicks, excited, as he waves it in the air like maracas before hugging it tightly to his chest. And, when the book is a present from someone dear to him, he acts exactly the same, only he ends up crying and thanking again and again the person who gave it to him while, again, he presses the book against himself as if his life depended on it.
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Luigi is VERY much a fan of merchandising. He loves collecting bookmarks, he has such a huge collection that he's had to divide it into several drawers, and every time he’s going to start a new reading, he tends to spend more time deciding which bookmark will be the most suitable than choosing the book itself. He’s also bought a few literary stickers and some printed works of his favorite books, like fanarts of different scenes or characters illustrated by various artists, which he's hung on a corkboard. And, of course, since his books are the most precious thing he has, he’s also bought many literary covers from different small artists' stores, so that he can keep his books well protected when he carries them around.
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Luigi is the kind of person who takes a book with him everywhere. A doctor's appointment? Book in backpack in case the wait gets longer. Public transport? He can't think of a better way to spend it than reading. He even takes them with him when he meets up with Mario, Peach and Toad, just in case his brother and the princess get lovey-dovey, and Toad falls asleep. And, if there's one thing Luigi likes better than sleeping in nature, it's reading in nature.
Part 2: The Reader Brother
Luigi has loved reading since he was very young. When he and Mario were babies, their parents used to tell them a bedtime story, sometimes Pio, sometimes Mia, and Luigi always listened very attentively. He would gawk listening to them and loved how they used to put voices and even recreate some scenes to make them laugh.
Mario also listened very interested, but being a more energetic baby, he used to fall asleep about halfway through the story, with his head resting on Luigi's shoulder and his arm firmly around his brother's waist. Their parents would drool, but they had to continue, for Luigi, even if he was struggling to keep his eyes open, wasn’t going to go to sleep without knowing the ending.
Only then, with a satisfied smile, he would hug his brother back, curl up next to him, close his eyes, and put his thumb in his mouth to get ready for sleep. By then, Mario was completely asleep, clinging to Luigi like a koala to a eucalyptus tree, and their parents had to make great efforts not to melt as they tucked them in and kissed them goodnight.
Since then, both brothers have grown up being great lovers of stories, only that, while Luigi loves books, Mario prefers to consume them in movies or video games. Even so, these are all hobbies that the brothers share, as they love to immerse themselves in a good story that helps them escape from reality for a while.
When Luigi gets emotional about a book he’s reading or has just read, Mario immediately comes to his side to hug and comfort him. He knows that, even if it's fiction, his brother has lived through it all in such a way that his feelings, of sadness, joy or emptiness at having finished a great story, are real and intense. And Mario would never judge him for it.
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Luigi is deeply grateful not only that his brother comforts him, but that he listens to him talk endlessly about what has just happened in the book he’s reading, and even catches his emotions. Mario may not cry, but he feels his brother's sadness as if it were his own. Fortunately, the same thing happens when Luigi is happy or excited because of a book, and even on the few occasions when Luigi has gotten angry with a character, Mario has giggled under his breath before calming him down, because he finds it extremely tender.
Luigi usually goes to the bookstore at least once a week, and Mario, since they were teenagers, has almost always accompanied him. The only exceptions were when Mario was dating Pauline, and Luigi had no problem paying his weekly visit to the bookstore by himself, but, deep down, he missed Mario.
His brother also loves to accompany him, because, despite not being as much of a reader as Luigi, he enjoys watching him go back and forth from one shelf to another, pointing out the books he’s already read and the ones he wants to read. Also, when he gets the chance to buy a new one, Mario is amused to see Luigi picking up one book after another and trying to load them all and then deciding which one to take home.
Of course, Mario immediately offers to help him carry the books so that Luigi can keep picking up more if he wants to, and Luigi appreciates it from the bottom of his heart. And also that, again, Mario listens to him chatting incessantly about why each book has caught his attention and why he has such a hard time making up his mind.
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Mario always tries to guide him in the best possible way: "What do you feel like reading more right now?" "Is it part of a series or is it a standalone?" "Is the sequel already out or would you have to wait?" "Did you like this or that author better?"
And Luigi thanks him deeply for his advice and questions because, that way, he manages to discern which book he really wants to buy that time.
The best way to surprise Luigi, the best birthday and Christmas present, will always be a book. Mario knows this, and that's why he doesn't hesitate to ask his brother to show him his long and endless lists of books he wants to purchase, as well as discreetly taking notes every time he goes to the bookstore with him. Luigi cherishes every book his brother has gifted him like the priceless treasures they are to him.
Sometimes Luigi runs into space problems. Even though his bookshelf is large and spacious, there’s a limit to everything. In those moments when he’s overwhelmed because he doesn't know where to place his new acquisitions, Mario always comes to the rescue: he immediately offers to hang a new shelf on the wall, or to look for another bookshelf to place in some free space in the room, or, directly, he stares at Luigi's shelf with a frown and his hand on his chin for a few moments, before taking the new books from his brother's arms and, displaying his skills playing Tetris, manages to find room to place them.
He loves to do it not only because he enjoys applying in real life what he has learned playing video games, but above all because of the relieved smile that blooms on Luigi's lips when he sees that Mario has found the perfect solution.
Luigi loves going to literary events where he can meet his favorite authors and have his books signed, but he tends to get so nervous that he always gets stuck for words and sweats a lot, which embarrasses him deeply.
The first time, in fact, Luigi was so shocked to have his favorite author in front of him that he fainted. When he woke up in the ambulance, he was so embarrassed that nothing Mario, who, of course, always accompanies him, said succeeded in comforting him.
He only calmed down a bit at home, when, alone with Mario, he began to silently cry without even realizing it, and his brother, not uttering a word, sat down in front of him, worried, and wrapped him gently in his arms. He pressed the back of Luigi's neck softly to make him rest his head on his shoulder and stroked his back gently, his heart aching at each new sob that escaped his brother's throat.
It took him many, many years to convince Luigi to go to an event again, for Luigi feared the same thing would happen to him again. He didn't want to make a fool of himself like that ever again, especially not in front of writers he deeply admires.
So Mario decided that they would practice: he dressed as much as he could like Luigi's favorite author, watched as many videos as he could on the internet to soak up his personality and find out what kind of books they wrote, and pretended to be them again and again, relentlessly, until Luigi, little by little, managed to exchange a few words with him.
It took them many attempts, because, despite knowing it was his brother, Luigi had no trouble getting into the situation due to his overflowing imagination. Mario had to step out of character several times to try to calm him down and help him regulate his breathing.
Luckily, thanks to Mario's efforts, eventually it worked, and Luigi, a few years later, found himself back at an event and able to chat for a few minutes with the writers he read, even though his heart was beating frantically in his chest and excitement was flooding his insides.
He will never be able to thank his brother for his infinite patience, but Mario always plays it down tenderly. He keeps assuring him that it was not patience, but his deep and sincere love for his younger brother and his eagerness to help him fulfill his wishes.
Part 3: Royalty + Luaisy
Ever since the brothers met Princess Peach, she and Luigi have been, little by little, building up a beautiful friendship that grows every day, just like the sweet romantic relationship between her and Mario.
It didn't take long for Peach to discover Luigi's bookish side, and it made her eager and excited, as she has always enjoyed reading and loves to comment on the books she reads in great detail.
So she didn't hesitate to take Luigi to the huge library of her castle, and she smiled, touched, as she saw the amazement with which Luigi observed its towering shelves, turning on himself in the center of the room as he tried to take it all in.
Since then, Peach and Luigi have become reading buddies. The two of them love to immerse themselves in a good story, read together in the castle library while comfortably sipping tea and, of course, comment on what they have just read and exchange views. Luigi even ends up causing Peach to also take a liking to collecting bookmarks and literary merchandising.
They often do joint readings: they discover a book they both feel like reading and set a series of goals to try to read it at the same pace, so they can discuss it as they go along. Sometimes, however, Luigi discovers that Peach hasn't read one of his favorite books, so he doesn't hesitate to read it with her so he can see her reactions, and vice versa. They love to share their anger, their cries and their joys, for it fills their hearts with bliss and emotion that they have someone by their side who understands perfectly well what they’re feeling and why.
They enjoy hearing what this or that scene has made the other feel, or what they think of this or that character, because it helps them to see things from a point of view that, perhaps, they had not considered before. Reading enriches them, but their literary conversations enrich them even more.
And Mario, of course, is delighted that the two most important people in his life have forged such a strong, deep bond and spend so much quality time together, sharing one of their greatest passions. Often, unbeknownst to them, he stands watching them as they read in the library and gets a silly grin on his face when he sees them laughing together after chatting a bit about their readings.
When it comes to Prince Peasley, on the other hand, Luigi is the one who watches him while smiling, mesmerized, as the prince, always so elegant and sophisticated, has an exquisite oratory and knows how to strike the perfect tone every time a character intervenes, and also to confer the right emotion when it comes to the narrator. And Luigi, besides staring at him, enraptured by the fabulousness of his figure, also listens to him spellbound. He would almost say that he enjoys reading more when his beloved prince is the one who narrates, and plays, the stories.
Princess Daisy, due to her energetic nature, is not much prone to reading. She prefers more dynamic activities where she can unleash not only her endless energy, but also her competitive side. Even so, she knows and respects the value of books, having grown up well aware of their importance in safeguarding and protecting the history of her kingdom. (@kelbreyworshipper you may like these ones!)
But when she meets Luigi, she begins to show a slight interest in reading, something that at first was only born so that she could have something to talk to him about. Fortunately, Luigi, despite his initial shyness, doesn't need more than a mention of literature to start talking nonstop about his favorite stories and how much they make him feel. And Daisy, not even realizing it, finds herself listening to him entranced, very attentive to his every word and genuinely understanding why there are people, like Luigi, who find reading so exciting.
Over time, she starts asking him for book recommendations, which he happily obliges, and Daisy discovers that she actually enjoys reading, especially stories with tons of action. Still, what she likes the most about this is Luigi's thrilled and moved expression when he finds out she's actually listened to him, read the book he recommended and, therefore, now they can fangirl together. She falls even harder for him because of the cute little face he makes.
Sensing that her interest in him is growing and that it may be mutual, Daisy decides to invite Luigi to Sarasaland Castle to show him her library. At first she doesn't tell him what she has invited him for, which makes Luigi VERY nervous, as he doesn't know if this is a date or not. She playfully takes him by the hands, leads him to the library doors and asks him to close his eyes. Luigi hesitates a little, unsure, but ends up obeying so as not to disappoint her.
Daisy then opens the library and guides Luigi carefully inside. He almost trips, which makes her laugh, causing him, in turn, to relax a bit. And when she finally tells him to open his eyes, Luigi gasps and his jaw drops, his heart pounding in his chest, not only because that library is even a bit larger than Peach's, but also because, slowly, his mind understands and assimilates that Daisy had prepared this to surprise him.
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And even though he’s fascinated by all the books before him, he ends up, without realizing it, looking at Daisy, with a blushing smile on his flushed face and his hands over his heart, while she explains to him that all those volumes belonged to his ancestors and that he has her permission to come whenever he wants to get them. "They're yours!" she says at last, turning to him, and Luigi's heart grows larger at the offer, causing a tear to escape his eyes as the princess, full of tenderness, smiles at him.
Over the next few days, Luigi goes to the library, encouraged by Daisy, who insists again and again that he come to Sarasaland. Her library has a huge ladder to reach the highest shelves, and Daisy uses it without a second thought to glide across the room, to the terrified gaze of Luigi, who dares not even climb the first rung.
As soon as she notices this, Daisy gets down, walks over to Luigi and takes him by the hand to guide him to the ladder. He almost cringes when she places his hand on the wood and freezes when Daisy encourages him to climb up. "It's completely safe!" she assures him. "And, besides, I'll be right here. You can hold my hand as you climb up. I promise I won't slide you down too fast the first time!"
Very slowly and clinging to Daisy's hand, Luigi climbs up the steps. She doesn't let go and keeps repeating phrases to encourage him, which makes Luigi feel almost as safe as when he is with Mario, though in a different way. Once he reaches the top of the first shelf, however, Luigi is unable to climb any higher, so Daisy doesn't pressure him any further. She gently grasps the lower end of the ladder and, after warning him, moves it a little, very slowly as she promised, to make him feel secure.
The next day, however, Daisy goes up right after Luigi and, leaning into the next bookshelf, pushes as hard as she can to propel the ladder to the opposite side at breakneck speed. Her laughter mingles with Luigi’s screams, but however, once they stop, he discovers that, despite his initial panic, he’s had fun with what Daisy has just done.
This then becomes a regular occurrence between them, until it gets to the point where Luigi feels comfortable and confident enough to climb the ladder by himself and propel himself across the library in true “Beauty and the Beast” style.
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In the kingdom of Sarasaland there’s a tradition to honor books, as they’re not only a source of entertainment, but also the sacred objects that preserve their history. Daisy has grown up with these values and does not hesitate to tell Luigi about this tradition soon after they start dating.
On Book Day, it is customary for the man to give the woman a rose and the woman to give the man a book. This originated many centuries ago, before everything related to gender and relationships evolved, so nowadays, simply put, the members of a romantic relationship give each other both a book and a rose.
Luigi shows up in Sarasaland on the appointed date very nervously, dressed in a smart green suit, his favorite color, and carrying a wrapped book for Daisy, as well as a purple rose, very rare and hard to come by, which he has grown himself in his garden with Peach's help. Daisy greets him in a lovely purple dress, with a vaporous skirt, matching elbow-length gloves and her delicate shoulders bare. She holds out her gift to him almost before he reaches the castle gates and can recover from the amazement of seeing her so dazzling and beautiful.
He’s delighted when, upon opening it, he discovers that it is one of those special editions he’s been looking for for so long. Only Mario knew he wanted it, so he understands, without needing Daisy to tell him, that his brother has given his girlfriend a hand to surprise him. And that makes his heart fill with love and his eyes with tears, and the book even more precious to him.
Daisy excitedly opens her present and, to Luigi's surprise, squeals when she discovers that he’s gifted her a fantasy adventure novel that caught her eye when he first took her to his favorite Brooklyn bookstore. Daisy drags him into the library, invites him to sit down with some drinks (tea for him, a smoothie for her), and asks him to please start reading.
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And so they spend their first Book Day together: settled on Daisy's fluffy library couch, she sat on his lap, the skirt of her purple dress spread over his legs, almost hiding them, and her arms around his neck, depositing light kisses here and there as he struggles to read aloud the book he’s just given her. This was the first time they gave each other a book, but of course it would not be the last, as reading together, visiting the Brooklyn bookstore and Sarasaland and Mushroom Kingdom libraries, and continuing to celebrate Book Day would soon become habit for them.
Daisy often stares at Luigi as he reads, amused by his reactions and the faces he makes, and, when their relationship is more established, she has no qualms about peeping over his shoulder. And Luigi, far from getting angry, what he did the first time and has continued to do ever since is to read aloud, so that she also finds herself immersed in the story without realizing it. (This may sound familiar!)
But what Luigi enjoys the most is that Daisy, whenever the characters in the book share some intimate gesture, instantly replicates it with him. If they hold hands, Daisy immediately reaches for Luigi's hand. If there’s a hug, Daisy wraps her arms around Luigi and holds him tightly, which leaves him breathless, but also makes him laugh and fills his heart with tenderness.
And, of course, if there are kisses, Daisy won't hesitate to start showering Luigi with them. First on his hand, on the tips of his fingers and on his palm. Then on the forehead, with a delicacy that always melts Luigi. His cheeks color every time Daisy places her lips on them, but what drives him absolutely crazy is when she seeks his mouth. It's the only thing that makes him put down the book and postpone reading for another time. (Check out @bberetd's wonderful art for this!)
Often, before they fall asleep, Daisy cuddles up to Luigi in bed, wearing his green shirt, and buries her face in the crook of his neck. Luigi absentmindedly begins to fiddle with her hair, delighted to have her so close, and, with his other hand, reaches for his book to read aloud a few more pages before they fall asleep. It's part of their routine and they both love sharing stories that way.
Part 4: The gang
The visit to the bookstore and libraries has now become a regular occurrence for everyone. As soon as he started talking about books with Peach and she showed him her library, Luigi immediately invited her to come with him and Mario the next time they went to their regular Brooklyn bookstore, and she gladly accepted.
On that first visit by the princess, Peach was as thrilled as Luigi and the two of them went back and forth in the bookstore, she eagerly looking at everything, he endlessly talking about the store and the many books he’s bought there. Soon they found themselves going often to acquire new books, not without first spending a good while in the place accumulating stories in their arms to, again, decide in the end.
Again Luigi was looking for Mario, who, unconsciously, had been staring at them with an amused smile and his eyes full of affection. Blushing, Mario would hurry to come to his side to help him, and Luigi, even though he’d caught him gazing at the princess in rapt attention, wouldn’t comment anything so as not to make him uncomfortable or put any pressure on him.
Many times, however, Peach would intervene and take two of the books Luigi had chosen. That's how she also started giving him books as presents, and Luigi couldn't be more grateful that his beloved friend pampers him that way. Her gesture makes her even more attractive and sweet in the eyes of Mario, who melts at seeing her displaying such adoration towards his beloved little brother.
Daisy, always eager to learn more about the place where her dearest hero in green grew up, also joins in, but, to her surprise, she finds herself next to Mario, fondly watching Peach and Luigi, especially the latter. They, however, are so excited talking about books that they never notice the goofy smiles with which Daisy and Mario look at them, delighted to see their two favorite people indulging in their greatest passion.
Despite this, both Mario and Daisy make sure to pay attention to the books that Luigi and Peach point out with the intention of acquiring them in the future, and then make plans with each other to decide which ones to give them on future birthdays, Christmases and, of course, regular days. Any time is a good time to surprise their favorite people with a new literary gift.
Sometimes, on their dates, Luigi and Daisy also go to the bookstore, and she, as always, listens to him talk very attentively. When it comes to advising him on which book to acquire, however, she’s much more practical: she thinks Luigi should pick the book he wants to read the most… or the one with the most romance in it.
And Luigi blushes violently because he perfectly understands the implications of such a suggestion.
Literary events also end up being a regular thing they all do together. Luigi, thanks to Mario, already manages to control his nerves and chat a bit with the authors when they sign his books. Peach, of course, is all sweetness and always tells them how much their stories have made her feel and dream. Mario just smiles and listens, delighted to be able to accompany them and to see them enjoying themselves so much, right up their alley. He always takes pictures of them with the authors, both together and separately, something he already did when it was just him and Luigi.
Daisy, on the other hand, is so spontaneous and genuine that she doesn't hold back when it comes to treating the writers with too much familiarity, which only embarrasses the others, especially Luigi. If it's the author of a romance book, Daisy doesn't hesitate to cheerfully tell them how much she and her boyfriend enjoyed the sensual and intimate scenes, or that she lost count of how many times she kissed her sweetie during the reading because of the sheer number of times the characters kissed.
In those moments, Luigi can only think of crawling under a rock. He has to resort to all the training with Mario to manage to keep his composure and not faint again or run away to hide so no one sees him turning red as a tomato.
However, then Daisy intertwines her arm with his and kisses him on the cheek, and he feels that his blush, this time, is due to being close to her and to her tokens of affection. After all, Luigi adores everything about his princess, all her sides and her personality, and besides, to other authors, fortunately, Daisy tells them how much fun she and her boyfriend had with their novel, and Luigi can only adore her.
At these events, both Mario and Daisy go out of their way to get lots of bookmarks and merch for Luigi and Peach, as they know they both love to collect stuff related to their favorite books. And also, again, they take mental notes of all the books they can buy as future presents for them.
From time to time, Toad and Peasley also join in on their visits to the bookstore, libraries or events. Toad is a big fan of fantasy and adventure comics, as they nurture his enthusiastic and adventurous spirit, and Peasley loves to talk endlessly with his favorite authors about the various subjects they cover in their books, thus unconsciously displaying, once again, his impeccable eloquence.
I really hope you liked this! I had a blast writing all of this and imagining my favorite characters in the many situations I've experienced myself as a bookworm, as well as adding others I came up with 🥰
Plase feel free to add your comments and feedback, and also headcanons if you have a few of your own! And if by any chance this inspires you to create your own stuff, I'd be more than honored 😭 All I ask is to please give credit! 🙏💖
Before I leave, please remember to check @itsavee4117's blog today! You won't regret it 🤩📚✨
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04/21/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Leslie Jones; Nat Torres; SaveOFMDCrew - Let's Get OFMD an Emmy; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/ Tonight's Taika
== Rhys Darby / Cryptid Factor ==
So our fabulous Captain has shared a video of him ghost hunting in a haunted hotel! The only way to access it (as you can see below) is to sign up for the $10 Cryptid Factor Patreon. Link here. It's cute and funny, and you get access to all of the other Cryptid Factor vids and a lot of other cool perks.
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== Taika Waititi ==
Another pic of Taika From Sydney Trip for Rita's launch of TypeBea
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Img Src: @fuckyeahworldoftaika
== Leslie Jones ==
Leslie spotted out on 4/20!
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Img Src: @comedianpinkfoxx IG
== Nat Torres ==
Just a quick couple pics of Nat in hats!
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Img Src: Nat Torres IG
== Save OFMD Crew ==
Today SOFMD crew is working on more engagement to get OFMD an Emmy! Artwork by @erostheartist
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Feel free to reach out to SOFMD crew on any of the platforms and share your favorite OFMD Season 2 Costumes! Save OFMD Crew Linktr.ee
== Fan Spotlight ==
= Cast Cards =
And who could forget the guy who pointed out that Blackbeard was out on a treasure hunt! Annnnd immediately got threatened! Thank you @melvisik for highlighting Enrique Renaldo! He really took one for the team there!
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== Colouring Pages ==
More colouring pages from the ever-lovely @patchworkpiratebear! Please click the images below to go to their tumblr pages!
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== Love Notes ==
Hey there lovelies. Here we are again-- coming up on Monday. I really hope you all got a chance to get some rest this weekend, a chance to be creative, a chance to heal up a bit for the coming week. Refueling is incredibly important in keeping the ever wonderful you up and running.
Tonight I wanted to get a little sappy and tell you just how amazing you are. Seriously, have you thought lately about just how much went into where are you are today? Millions of years of evolution, thousands of years of civilization for your parents to meet, have you and then so many years of growing, learning, living, and here you are the way you are today. The amount of complex interactions that had to occur to make you are impossible to ever quantify.
You are a unique, beautiful, glorious creature, and when you were born, you had infinite potential for the coming years. You were wonderful, and sweet, and you meant so much to the world around you.
Today, you are both the same, and a different person as you were then. You are different in experience, and growth, but you are still the same beautiful, fantastic, full of potential creature you were the moment you breathed air for the first time. That hasn't changed.
You were worthy of love then, and you're worthy of love now.
You were beautiful then, and you may look different, but you're even more beautiful now.
Your potential was infinite back then, and guess what? It's still infinite. There is so much to do in this life, and you WILL get where you want to be one day (if you're not already there).
You also mean so much to the world around you. The players may have changed, or stayed the same, but you still mean the world to those who love you, whether they say it or not.
You are a tiny shining speck in the grand scheme of time on this planet, and yet, you make such an impact on every other speck you encounter, and just like the millions of years before you, you are instrumental in the backstory of someone yet to come.
You don't have to have kids, to make that kind of an impact (although if you do that's it's own path) even just interacting with others, giving kindness where there wasn't any before can cascade and make a world of difference, which then spreads in it's own infinite direction to the future.
Your life matters. Your love matters. You matter.
Rest well lovelies, sweet dreams.
Img Src: @/TheGoodQuote's IG
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== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==
Today's theme is "Out of Context"
Gifs courtesy of @thunderwingdoomslayer and @mermaidstede!
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52 notes · View notes
creedslove · 2 days
Note
hiii CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE A COCKWARMING HEADCANON WITH DAVE??? OMGGG OR JAVI, well I dont think javi would be patient enough hahah but I really dave and OMG PIKE WOULD LOVE IT😭😭😭😭 I didnt even know I had that kink just for my Pedro boys only ofc🥺 ily your series qnd your personality, im glad I follow you really, te amooo
Dave York x f!reader
A/N: omg bestie I love all the options really, but I had to go with Dave, our murder daddy just hits different, doesn't he? He is the one who needs some special loving, ❤️👁️🫦👁️
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• you knew Dave well enough to figure out when a mission had been a success or when it hadn't gone well. Technically, all his missions were a success when he came home alive and you were very much thankful for that, but still, sometimes he found problems in the way, such as collateral damage or if he simply got hurt
• Dave tried his best not to bring work home, he knew it wasn't healthy, he liked his home a lighthearted place, full of love and good feelings and not a dead body count over his shoulders, but still there were days he was darker than usual, silent and keeping so much to himself and that was exactly when you knew you had to act
"hey darling"
• you'd approach him quietly, seeing Dave relaxing in the armchair, suit still on, tie hanging loose over his neck and a few unbuttoned places on his shirt, knowing it would catch his attention immediately: Dave was a traditional man, he liked his woman smelling good for him, wearing cute slutty outfits at home, hair looking good and it wouldn't hurt to have some lipstick occasionally
"hey baby girl, I missed you"
• your tired Dave would purr at the same time he would extend his arm towards you and pull you closer to him, already knowing exactly what he wanted and needed, he loved how damn sexy and beautiful you were for him, he constantly thought of how undeserving he was of you, but screw it: he'd learned to be selfish so he was keeping you all for himself
• as you'd come closer and straddle him, you finally saw the bruise on his face and that made your blood boil under your skin: your Dave was so handsome, how dare whoever the asshole who caused that bruise to do that? It was so unfair, but you calmed down, feeling your man's warmth and breathing underneath you, he was alive, which meant whoever was responsible for bruising him was now not only dead but probably beyond recognition
• it shouldn't bother you, but it didn't, life wasn't fair at all, and if you were blessed enough to have Dave, then it was other people's loss anyway
• you lifted the hem of your dress as you sat on his lap; panties were not needed at that moment, only your intimacy and hunger for each other, so you felt strong, gripping hands around your waist at the same time he pulled you for a kiss, a heated on, and in less than you could think of, you were both already making out as teenagers, undressing, squeezing, kissing, nibbling and touching
• Dave's thick fingers went to your sensitive core, spreading your lips apart gently, digits searching for your sweetness as he made sure you were ready, soon enough, he lifted you up and helped you take him entire inside of you
• and so you stayed there, his cock twitching patiently inside of your warm, slippery cunt, while you rested your foreheads together, exchanging kisses, words, and promises, there was no rush in the world, it was the closest he'd ever been to a human being, and it happened to you, because there was no one he would love more than yourself
• eventually, you two would begin moving again, until you found the bliss in each other's arms and body, Dave loved you more than anything in the world, for the most part of his life, he was seen as a monster, but he was no monster to you
• to you, his baby girl, he was just your Dave, the love of your life and your sweet, sweet hitman 💕
____
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anatee · 3 days
Text
Waking up | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut
Waking up | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut One Shot. 18+. MINORS DNI.
Word count: 1.17K
Content warning: fem!reader x Kylo; zero plot just smut, piv (unprotected), a bit sleepy I guess?, fainting mentioned
Author’s note: This is a 'hey, I'm alive' short shot (although I do have a cold). Next part of Insufferable in the works, meanwhile I hope you enjoy this one ;)
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Y/N woke up in the middle of the night.
She didn't remember much. Last night, there was a fight, a scramble with the Resistance somewhere at the base, and she fainted amidst the chaos. It was Kylo who took her into his own arms and, after Y/N had been checked by the medics, brought her to his own chambers. She came to in his arms, and slept in them later on, feeling safer than ever before. It was their first time feeling each other's bodies up close, and despite the exhaustion of the battle, other things did come to their minds. After a day they both spent on exchanging tense glances, as if unsure if they should act on their desires, she fell asleep again… But not for long.
Kylo was sitting in the armchair next to the bed with his shirt open, reading something on his datapad despite the late hour. When he saw her stir, however, he immediately set it aside.
"Finally," he said with clear relief, setting the black, silky sheets aside. Y/N slowly rubbed her eyes, trying to make them work after the nap. She almost felt like she woke up in another dimension.
"Come here," he said quietly, then kissed her gently on the lips as if waking the Sleeping Beauty. Y/N smiled at that, but she knew it was barely scratching the surface. Such light kisses were not what Kylo was known for.
"Do you ever sleep?" she asked as she kept on rubbing her eyes. Kylo let out a short chuckle and soon enough, his hands were on her, unable to stay at his sides.
She suddenly felt him starting to unbutton her shirt. She didn't oppose, quite the contrary - she was grateful, because she felt like she was sweating excessively from the heat of the nap, and yet her pounding head remembered that she had absolutely nothing on under her shirt.
Kylo seemed to have noticed it at the same time. When she felt that nothing was covering her chest anymore, she heard his heavy breathing. It happened and she couldn't even hide behind her hair. Y/N almost jumped when she felt his icy cold hand between her breasts. He didn't even have his gloves on.
"Don't worry, you're safe… Can you breathe normally?" he asked with genuine concern, so different from his usual demeanour.
"Definitely not now," she replied, gasping for breath. He felt her heart beating beneath his hand and he couldn't explain why he couldn't take his hand away. He moved it slightly to the left breast, which had consequences for both of them.
The excitement surged through them with redoubled force. Y/N unconsciously tightened her grip on the sheets, lifting her legs just a little.
"Your heart is beating too fast," Kylo gasped, and then she finally managed to open her eyes. Kylo's huge frame was leaning over her, without his helmet, and he was piercing her with such eyes that made her feel small and completely exposed.
"If you keep on doing this… It will," she looked at his hand, still on her bare breast, "it will beat even faster."
Another shiver ran through her, and a strange, tingling sensation appeared in her lower abdomen. Kylo slowly, with little pressure, moved his hand from her breast, along her belly, to the waistband of her pants. He pulled it down and, although she couldn't see it from her position, it was too low for any decency.
The situation was clear to both of them: the tension that had been growing between them for a long time was finally going to explode. He froze in that position for a moment.
"Do you feel okay?" he whispered.
She looked at his hand, then back at him with a soft smile.
"I do… But you could make it better."
A new wave of excitement washed over both of them as Kylo climbed back onto the bed and hovered over her.
He used the Force to take her clothes off of her after she gave him an encouraging nod. Soon, there was no turning back. She lay before him, fully exposed, shackled by so many emotions she couldn't shake off. Something stirred in Kylo as he stared at her shamelessly, admiring what he had revealed. He had been thinking about this moment ever since he met her years ago.
He raised both of his hands to place them on either side of her, keeping himself comfortably above her. He could see that she liked it as she ogled him from underneath, trying to catch a glimpse of his partially exposed chest.
When Kylo lowered himself to kiss her once again, everything around them disappeared. Flesh began to rub against flesh, and their hearts began to beat in the same rhythm. Y/N buried her hands in his hair, and with one hand he lifted her by the waist, holding her as close to him as possible. When the frenzy subsided enough for her to regain some rational thought, after what felt like an eternity, she tore her mouth away from him and pulled his head towards her.
"I want you, Kylo," she whispered straight into his ear. She made Kylo feel things that he never thought were possible.
He moved closer to her ear, brushing his lips against it and whispered, "You'll get what you want."
He removed the hand that was supporting her waist and moved it to her right knee. He slowly moved one of her legs to the side, then did the same with the other. There was another burst of emotions, and she clutched the sheets again. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to move.
He used the Force again, this time to get rid of his own pants. Y/N knew he was ready and she couldn't wait. Everything else was forgotten, the only thing that mattered to them was the other person. Kylo moved his hand under her waist again to lift her a little, and placed his other hand on the headboard of the bed. He lowered himself, she moaned, and the clock struck midnight. He filled her up to the brim, much larger than she was, able to hold her like a doll. She didn't even expect him to feel half as good as he did.
Kylo waved a hand, putting out all the lights in the room. Their other senses went crazy. He couldn't believe the effect her moan had on him when he jerked forward for the first time. The lack of light captured the imagination of both of them, stirring the blood in their veins.
No one could hear those heavy breaths, moans and whispers, the rustle of the sheets, not even the moon was a witness to them, hidden somewhere behind the clouds from which white fluff was falling. It was just the two of them, darkness and pleasure like they had never experienced before.
And Y/N had a feeling it wasn't the last time she could wake up to this.
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strawhbrrries · 6 months
Text
Movement
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary: a double date that leads to mike schmidt coming home with you in the name of "helping your friend" and he ends up fucking you.
warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, creampie??, female pronouns, slight degrading??, pet names, heavy cussing, mike being hashtag v hot, no established relationship, porn with no plot, not proofread
word count: 2.1k words
author’s note: listen to movement by hozier for the full experience!!! I know this fic wasn't voted to be the first mike one to be posted but I had to do it okay!!!! he's so hot n sexy in this and i need him badly...please enjoy! mwah!
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Your eyes scanned the restaurant in front of your car, you were promised a very nice dinner with a very nice man and the place you ended up might as well have been a denny’s. Gia somehow managed to rope you into a double date and as the amazing friend you are, you obliged. Now, you wanted to take it back. If the guy you were set up with wasn’t just an absolute heartthrob you might consider strangling her in the bathroom.
“Gia, this better be the best damn food and the hottest men you have ever experienced or I’m never doing you another favor ever again.” You teased, getting out of your car as she walked up to it.
“I swear he said this place was nicer! Thank you so much babes, I owe you one!” She responded, slipping her arm inside of yours to walk inside. “Maybe the inside is really nice and it’s just a shady exterior.”
You’d never seen the man Gia was seeing tonight so when the two of you arrived at the table you weren’t sure which man was yours, but you knew which one you wanted. He looked gentle, shaggy hair untamed almost like he wasn’t prepared to go on a date tonight. 
“I suppose I’m your date.” He smiled softly, getting up to pull your chair out for you. “I’m MIke, you look uh, really beautiful tonight.”
After the introductions and small talk the two of you hit it off right away, it helped that Gia and her date were more interested in each other than remembering that the people they brought also existed.  The more you talked the more Mike came out of his shell, he wasn’t as shy as you first pegged him to be. Your heel was slowly caressing his calf, neither of you were quite sure when it had ended up there but he wasn’t complaining.
“A man in uniform is hot.” Your flirting was a little rusty, but it seemed to be working just fine for you.
“It’s just a security gig.” He shrugged it off, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. 
You grabbed the straw of your drink, wrapped your tongue around it, and took a sip. Mike choked slightly but covered it up with a cough, adjusting his pants under the table at the same time. 
“She’s not going to go home with him unless I go home with you.” You whispered in his ear as you leaned over the table, tangling your fingers in his hair to trick Gia into thinking you were whispering something dirty. “I’d really like to go home with you.”
You could feel the heat creep up his neck, his face was flushed. His heart might as well be on the outside of his chest with the intensity that it was beating, it’d been a long time since he’d been on a date or even gotten laid but Abby was at home and that just wouldn’t work.
“Uhm, my sister’s at home, can we go to your place?” Mike’s saliva was thick and pooling in his mouth, it felt almost impossible to swallow. He had to be dreaming, this just didn’t make sense otherwise. He was just doing his friend a favor and now your breath was hot on his neck and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.
The second the two of you walked outside he got fidgety, like he was going to take off the second you let go of his hand. Frankly he was surprised you hadn’t let go of it the second you picked it up, he was dripping sweat from the moment he realized you were his date. He quickly made a mental note to send a letter to the company who made his preferred deodorant, the fact that he didn’t smell absolutely putrid spoke volumes on their product.
“So did you mean what you said inside? Because I’m perfectly okay with just going home.” 
“I meant it, don’t be so nervous.” You smiled back at him, handing him the keys to your car.
The tension was thick, his knuckles were white as he tried to keep his focus on the road ahead and making it back to your place safely and not the fingers drawing figures on his thigh as you spoke about something he couldn’t quite grasp. 
Your place wasn’t too far from the restaurant that Gia’s date had picked, that Mike was thankful for. The longer he had to endure the torture that was your fingers on this thighs, the less his ability to be a gentleman and control himself existed. If it was up to him, he’d probably just pulled over and fucked you in the backseat of your own car but it wasn’t. He was a gentleman, he’d just met you all of a few hours ago, he knew better.
“This is the place.” You smiled softly as he pulled into your driveway.
“It’s nice.” He stated, handing your car keys back to you and taking your hand. “Suits you.”
Mike’s eyes wandered the walls, taking in every aspect of you, as you led him through the house. It didn’t take him long to notice that you lived alone, another thing he was now thankful for. His fingers trailed the zipper of your dress as he stood behind you in your bedroom, his other hand rubbing your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake. 
“Are you going to take it off?” Your voice was shaky and quiet, for the first time tonight you were nervous. 
“And you thought I was the eager one.” He chuckled, tugging your hair back softly to give him just enough access to your face to make eye contact with you. “Do you get off on bringing strangers to your home and having them fuck you?”
A soft whimper escaped your lips, blessing the ears of the man behind you who responded with a groan. His lips made contact with your neck, biting and sucking at any of the skin he had access to. The hand that was holding your hair back made itself busy drawing the zipper of your dress further and further down until it couldn’t go any further, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. 
Mike detached himself from your neck and took a step back, briefly admiring how disheveled you looked despite still being fully dressed, he made a quick motion for you to turn around and you obliged almost immediately. If you got his dick any harder it might’ve fallen off before he ever got the chance to use it. 
He backed you into the bed, laying you down and sliding your dress off and into a pile on the floor. Another deep groan was emitted into the air as he took in the sight in front of him, you hadn’t worn a bra and the underwear you’d chosen left nothing to the imagination. Mike immediately started thanking whatever god was above for you and the experience he was about to have. 
Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping with anyone tonight but then you saw him and your entire plan was flipped upside down. You lied about your friend not going home with her date if you didn’t leave with him, you didn’t want him to think you were desperate but he knew now. The second he touched the zipper of your dress, anything left of your facade was gone. You needed him.
“If you weren’t so fucking wet I would’ve thought you were only doing me a favor.” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing his finger over your folds through your underwear. “ Or maybe you’re just a whore? Huh?”
“For you.” You choked out, words getting caught in your throat over his words. 
At the beginning of the night you would’ve placed money on the fact that he wasn’t capable of things like this, it was like another side of him had come out during the drive to your house. You weren’t complaining, his words were getting to you in a way you’d never experienced. 
“Yeah? For me? Mikey’s own personal whore.” He slipped your underwear to the side and slid his finger through your folds, collecting your juices and bringing them to his mouth. “You’re as sweet as you look, need a honey jar full of you.”
You cried out at him softly, trying to use anything you had to stop his teasing. He was winding you up but edging you right before you could pop, he could’ve said anything and you would’ve agreed just to get him to fuck you. Being this desperate for a man you hardly knew was an exhilarating experience. 
“Please, I need you.” You whined, grabbing at his shirt in a desperate plea. “Please.”
“Good job using your words, pretty girl.” Mike praised, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down, throwing them in the same pile as your dress.
His clothes soon joined yours on the floor, a small pout emerging when you realized you wouldn’t be able to suck him off, his eyes catching yours as he climbed up your body. He kissed his way up, biting occasionally. Fingers tracing your skin just as you had done to him earlier in the night, lighting a fire on your skin as they went. It was like his body was made to fit yours, like your souls had searched for each other through every lifetime and yet this was the first time they had met.
His lips finally met yours for the first time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away to breathily whisper something in your ear. You shook your head in agreement at whatever he said, as long as he kept touching you like that and making noises in your ear you’d agree to anything he said to you. 
Shaking your head yes was the best decision you’d made so far, you felt two fingers slip inside of you. Thrusting for a few moments before they were replaced by the tip of his cock, slowly pushing in as his mouth found one of your nipples. The gentle man you had once perceived had been replaced by a god who was hung like a horse, splitting you in half with the cock fit for a god.
“Fuck.” Mike moaned, tipping his head back when he bottomed out, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. “So good, pretty girl.”
Anything you had planned on responding with quickly dissipated the second he pulled out and thrusted back in, a low groan coming out insead. His fingers were digging into your thighs as he held them up where he wanted them, all you could hope for was the imprints bruising as a reminder that this actually happened. What hair that wasn’t sticking to his skin from the sweat covering it was dangling backwards freely, all his focus was on not cumming too soon and if he continued to look at you he definitely would.
Your eyes had glossed over a long time ago, tears streaming down the sides as a byproduct of the blissful state his cock had put you in, fingers gripping desperately at the sheets and your tits bouncing with each thrust. He was once again praying to every god that he would get to do this another time, then he could sear the image of you under him into his mind.
“Mike, Mikey I need..” You whined, the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, threatening to spill before you could even finish a coherent thought.
“C’mon pretty girl, you can do it, let it go.” He praised you, bringing his thumb down to your clit and drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts to help your orgasm spill over.
His words were the final piece in the puzzle, your orgasm hitting you soon after he spoke. Legs shaking, mind blowing, tears, and silent moans was all your body could do at the supernova your orgasm had proved to be. You’d never cum this hard before but if every orgasm after didn’t measure up, he had ruined you. 
“You did so good.” Was all you heard as you came down from your high, Mike’s hands soothed down your hair as he whispered into your ear. 
His thrusts continued at the same pace for only a few seconds before his hips stuttered and he painted your insides white. 
“I guess tonight wasn’t a total waste.” You joked quietly, turning to the side to smile at him as he laid down next to you. 
“We need to do this more often.”
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heartss4val · 4 months
Text
𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ I WANNA BE YOURS | percy jackson x gn!reader
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percy jackson looks at you like you were the one who put the stars in the sky.
the son of poseidon gazes at you with so much awe and admiration in his eyes that most people would think you had just defeated a minotaur with your bare hands, or cured cancer or saved the world from total destruction, something that would be remembered for centuries to come. but in reality, all you did was toss a few nuts to the squirrels that scurried around camp. percy jackson looks at you in such a way that even aphrodite herself would point and squeal.
though, he'd never admit to that. the only telltale sign of his infatuation is the rosy tint that creeps up the tips of his ears every time you you pass by, and his lips that struggle to stay in a straight line whenever you flash him that smile—the one that makes his heart leap up and into his throat. even after four years of friendship, percy still hasn't figured out how to sit next to you and not be totally in love with everything you do.
it's as though you have some sort of magic power over him—a power that he's powerless to resist. and as much as he'd like to deny it, he secretly revels in the feeling.
but percy jackson would never confess his desires for you—not when kronos is still actively seeking to wipe out the demigod population. he can't afford to display any signs of weakness.
but it's worth it, he thinks, to risk everything just to wrap his arms around you and plant a kiss on your lips that would set the world on fire. yet he knows he can't—not without endangering you. not without putting you in harm's way. so why is it so unbearable to imagine life without you, when you were never really his to begin with?
and in those moments, when his mind is consumed with thoughts of you, memories of your touch and your gaze playing on repeat in his mind, he's left thinking, 'did i imagine it?' did he dream up the way your touch lingered on his arm as you adjusted his armor? the way you looked at him across the dining pavilion before turning away, as if you'd been caught in the act of something secret and sweet? he must have, right? because you would never look at someone like him with such tenderness. not at someone hot-headed and impulsive, someone with so many rough edges. no, you couldn't have looked at him like that. it must all be in his head.
you couldn't have looked at him the same way he looks at you.
despite his best efforts to conceal it, percy's convinced that everyone can see right through him. he knows that everyone can see right through him. the teasing from his fellow campers has been relentless—nicknames hurled his way, each one more unflattering than the last. romeo, hopeless romantic, loverboy..
loverboy.
he's no loverboy. not some kind of lovesick puppy at the mercy of some unattainable crush. no, that nickname is only reserved for the truly whipped, those who are wrapped around someone's finger, glued to their side at all times. he's no..
and then his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, suddenly alert. and there you are, all dazzling and gorgeous, a beacon in a sea of identical orange t-shirts and jeans. you stand out as though a spotlight has been trained on you alone. which is weird because to most people you're just another camper. albeit, an incredibly beautiful camper, but still, just a camper. so why is he so infatuated with you, specifically?
maybe he is a loverboy.
the realization hits him like a ton of bricks, and he almost groans out loud. can't he just carve his heart out and be done with it at this point? isn't that what the poets do?
but since he never really cared for those dead old men taught in school, like edward allan poe or whatever his name was, he'll settle for just daydreaming now. he'll settle for stolen glances across the room and the brush of your hands as you reach for a book. he'll settle for relishing in your little touches and how your lips shine in blueberry chapstick until he's ready. he'll admire the curve of your nose and the triumphant hugs you give him after your team wins capture the flag. he'll settle for it until it's not enough anymore. he'll settle for it until he needs more.
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yuri-is-online · 4 months
Text
Why So Rude? (Or Yuu's BF Asks Crewel for their Hand in Marriage and What Happens Next Will Shock You)
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For legal reasons, this is a joke. I have been dealing with a health issue of sorts (i am not dying so no worrying ok? just v annoyed) so writing longer stuff is escaping me at the moment, enjoy some crack while I take a breather. More can be found on my masterlist here.
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NO (FLOYD, Rook, and Malleus)
Crewel has been in denial about this "relationship" since it started. Not that his disapproval is really going to stop Floyd, but Crewel 100% refers to him as "Yuu's ex boyfriend" much to the confusion of... everyone who hears that. They do find some common ground in their shared interest in fashion, but Crewel has never forgiven him for his behavior in his class OR his "stealing" Yuu's heart.
Rook on the other hand he didn't have too much of an issue with until he realized just how familiar he seemed to be with his home for someone who had supposedly only been there to visit you. The twenty page letter he wrote to confess his feelings to you didn't help either once he saw the few lines where Rook wrote about the beauty of your finger prints, but he knows his disapproval means very little to someone as obsessed with romance as Rook.
Malleus... is the King of a country genuinely hostile to humans and Crewel thinks he is a little too obsessed with Yuu for his own good. He is also not a fan of how condescending Malleus is towards his disapproval, but it's an issue that will be worked out eventually. They are fighting out of love for the same person, your safety and happiness is all they really care about at the end of the day.
No, but as a joke (Sebek and Jack)
I don't think he has anything against him really, he just wants to see how important tradition and the opinion of his elders actually is to him. When Sebek begins to plead his case because he does not wish to put a wedge between Yuu and their father figure, but cannot deny his feelings for Yuu Crewel's more than happy to "change his mind." He knows you will be happy and well looked after.
Jack is a solid partner, and he is a wolf beastman who speaks of Yuu as his soulmate, his one and only, his eternal life partner and- well. Crewel just can't resist a bit of teasing, he's always been so serious and easy to fluster about these sort of things. The sheepish look on his face when he realizes Crewel has been teasing him makes it very worth it.
I can't stop you can I... (Leona, Kalim, and Rollo)
While Crewel has faith that Leona has what it takes to save his home- he lives in the Sunset Savannah. That is really far away from the Queendom of Roses ( ; ω ; ) have some pity on your poor father he can't travel that far all the time it's bad for his skin. The pressures of being the partner of royalty is something he worries over, but a smug promise from Leona to protect you soothes his worries somewhat.
The flippant way Kalim talks about the assassination attempts is not the way Crewel wants to hear about attempts on your life or heaven forbid your death. Kalim is very sympathetic to this, he has no real argument against how ignorant he was in the past, but he isn't a child anymore. Just filled with a childlike love for the world and determination to make it better. It is hard to say no to that.
Rollo is too much like Trein. His request for your hand in marriage feels like something that the old man would cry tears of genuine joy over, so of course he hates it. Unfortunately he also knows how much this teen grandfather matters to you or whatever so the answer will be yes. At least he has an excuse to visit Fleur City more now.
Give me one good reason. (Azul, Jade, Idia, and Lilia)
Azul was such a good student that he should have zero complaints that you started dating. But he also isn't blind and dislikes being pandered to, which is very much what Azul is doing here. He does wonder briefly if this is a cultural thing and he is being insensitive, but he is still exasperated enough to not immediately say yes. The strange twinkle that comes to Azul's eyes at the prospect of negotiations makes him wish he had though.
Speaking of not being blind, what does the Leech family do and is it legal? Survey says probably yes, but Crewel remembers dealing with Jade's parents while he was in school and has no desire to feed his child to the shar- err eels. Jade immediately begins to sniffle, oh how could Crewel say such bad things about him? A poor innocent eel and blah blah blah. If Jade wasn't such a good partner he'd be cooked.
Crewel understands and appreciates the effort Idia has put in to his personal growth and he has no desire to shit on that... but S.T.Y.X. and the secrecy around it is no joke. He wants to continue having a relationship with Yuu and as soon as Idia reassures him of that he has no more objections.
Lilia is an old man, a war criminal, and a father. Of course Crewel has seen how he was able to live as a student while at NRC but his own credit as a father would be under fire if he didn't object mildly. Lilia has some fun with it and has a bit more respect for him for objecting. So long as the eventual answer is yes.
Yes (Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jamil, and Epel)
While Crewel does have some red flag concerns concerning Riddle's mother, he has no real objections to Riddle himself. He is a perfect gentlemen and the correct amount of nervous to be asking the question. He gets full marks, as if there would ever be any other outcome.
Trey is that sort of solid option that parents really love, but he also has that tight personal relationship with Crewel from his Science Club days. He lives in the Queendom and is tight with his own family there are few better places for Yuu to be.
While Cater isn't Crewel's favorite student, he doesn't hate him or the Shaftlands. He is also not entirely unconvinced that him asking is for a magicam trend but! He has no real major objections. He is more than ready to have two kids, as soon as Cater is willing to admit he could use a stable father figure.
I don't think that Ruggie would even suggest marrige unless he's obtained that stable, high paying job he so baldy wants and has moved his Granny out of the slums. It's the perfect time to ask for permission to propose, and while the Savannah is still super far away (r.i.p. Crewel's skin) he is much more supportive of the two of you and how far you've come.
Similarly to Ruggie, I don't think Jamil would propose to Yuu unless his personal issues with Kalim and his position with the Asim's had been sorted. He wants to actually travel on his honeymoon, and Crewel is very willing to suggest the Queendom of Roses. Jamil's ego is absolutely stroked by how Crewel had zero objections but your adoptive dad doesn't get to see how smug it makes him, Jamil saves the smirks for when you say yes.
I think that Crewel seems to like all of the first years, and Epel is no exception. Sure, his request starts out well put together and polite but devolves into a dialect that leaves Crewel with no idea of what he's saying, but he has a general idea. Of course Epel has his blessing, Harveston sounds like a lovely place for Yuu to live their life in Twisted Wonderland and Epel a perfect person to keep them safe and happy.
He already planned the wedding (Ace, Deuce, Silver and Vil)
I know what you're saying. Crewel approving of Ace? Of course he does! He was in his homeroom class, and Crewel has a soft spot for trouble makers from the Queendom, he was one after all! Sure he might have had some problems with him when you first started dating, but now, when he is deathly serious saying he wants to spend the rest of his life with you? Crewel has been waiting for this since he fist saw carrot head yanking your chain.
Deuce is a much easier sell, Crewel was always a bit harsh on his intelligence, but only because he ran a tight ship and wanted him to reach for the stars. Well he has, and he has you to support him through it, Crewel is so proud of both. He and Dilla have absolutely been hypothetically planning this for years.
While Silver's curse did not endear him to Crewel for his first two years of schooling, he really grew on him when you started going out. He's glad that you've found someone who loves you as much as Silver does, really he is. Unfortunately this means he has to plan a wedding with Lilia, something they both have been doing since you started going out and never talked about. Don't worry! They only intend to fight a lot little bit.
The instant you started dating Vil Crewel entered his mother of the bride era. The permission asking was less Vil wanting to be polite and more him coming up with a way to distract him and convince him to focus on designing the clothes. Thankfully it works and no one other than his dogs have to know just how insane the prospect of his two favorite students marrying made him.
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irndad · 1 month
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walter- s.r.
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a/n: can be read as a stand alone!! but this is in the same universe as "in every other life", when they're still in the pining phase, if you want to see them end up together read that one!
“Your middle name is Walter?”
She’s grinning like the Cheshire cat, a grand grin spread across her lovely features. Spencer in both equal measures embarrassed by her question and charmed by her disposition. 
She’s beautiful today, dressed smartly and her dainty fingers almost brush his on his desk as she stands over him. He can smell her perfume, sweet and pleasant. He wants to hold her hand. 
“Who told you that?” He ask, trepidation seeped in his tone. 
“Walter?”
Shame licks at his spine, a familiar sense of embarrassment and rejection looming. He liked his name fine- his mother often would tell him that it’s a sturdy, honest name. He liked it because his mother had liked it, but Spencer he is under no illusion that it Spencer Walter Reid is a particularly attractive name. 
He does like how she says his name, though. 
There’s ways she says it. When she’s at work, she always asks him questions punctuated by his name. What do you think is right, Spencer? What do you think, Spencer? 
It’s lovely to be acknowledged. She has so much intentionality, her doe eyes trained on his with fondness and something like respect. Sometimes, he imagines that she likes him. How he likes her. 
They spend Friday nights together sometimes, when she said that she’s been working through a Doctor Who rewatch- 
“Morgan must have told you,” he muses, fond despite his insecurity. She looks like she’s found out a secret about him, like there’s some conspiracy that has now lost, and now she knows his middle name. 
“It’s cute!” 
Cute is not dreamy- it’s not the romance novel cover that she left on her desk one time (which she’d be mortified if she knew he’d seen) and cute is certainly not boyfriend material. Not that he has a shot at that, but still- he’d like to be an option. 
Spencer juts out his bottom lip in a pout he can’t control. 
“It’s not cute! It’s a very masculine name. I believe its origin is in Olde English.”
“Spencer,” she says, and leans down to his level, and she’s so close to him. SHe’s been this close before- hazy nights under the light of his cheap lamp, when she’s fallen asleep on his couch. He’s not sure she’s told anyone about those nights, about the moments where time slips into the ether and becomes something else entirely. 
“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, pausing with intention on every piece of his name. He’s never liked it this much, his name. She’s leaning in at the office, which means that she probably won’t kiss him, but he thinks about it. She’s never kissed him before- they’re friends, he needs to remember that. It’s hard to sometimes.  He tries not to stare at her lips. “Your name is just the tip of the iceberg of things that are adorable about you.”
He feels himself involuntarily flush a bright red. It’s not enough to be adorable to her- he’d like to be attractive, like to be the thing she pictures at night when she’s scared of the dark. He wants to be her solace, the person she find comfort- light, love in. 
Adorable is good too, though. He’ll take what he can get. 
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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months
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Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…
I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !
You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Wildflowers Grow in Ruins
(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)
Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.
Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.
A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.
Wars are exhausting. 
You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.
But waging a war against yourself… 
Now that is pure hell. 
It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.
But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.
He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.
But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.
Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.
The day has finally come to let him go.
You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.
But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.
Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 
You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.
But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.
So why is it so hard to let go?
The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 
And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.
You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.
Good. 
Good.
Great.
You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.
The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 
It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.
Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?
The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.
"I need to talk to you." 
Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.
He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.
"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 
This should be easy…
It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.
"I think we should go separate ways."
The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.
"Ok."
It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 
"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.
He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.
"Is it because of my work?" 
"No."
"What is it then?"
Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.
Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.
"Hey. Hey."
He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 
"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"
His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?
His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.
And he must hate weakness.
"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 
It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.
"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?
"What do you mean?"
He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.
"Have you found someone else?"
What the…
"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"
He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 
"I'm just…" 
Jesus, this is just humiliating. 
"I'm just not your type."
"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 
He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 
Losing you.
"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."
"It's not that. You don't understand–" 
"Try me."
"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"
"Stop right there."
The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.
"Bloody fucking hell…" 
He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 
And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"This is the reason you wanna break up?"
Ugh.
"Yes?"
His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 
But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.
"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"
"I don't know." 
"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"
"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 
"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."
He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.
"Can I touch you?"
You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.
"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.
"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…
"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"
Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.
"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.
"Then why do you think you're not my type?"
"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.
"That for sure ain't true."
"But it is."
He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.
"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 
"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"
It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.
"No…?"
"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"
"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.
"No, I don't think I will."
He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.
"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"
You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 
It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.
"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."
"Simon–"
"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"
He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 
"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."
For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?
"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.
"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."
You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.
"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."
You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.
"Then let me help you."
The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.
"You don't even let me touch you anymore."
It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.
"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."
Oh my God…
Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 
That would explain why he has avoided you too…
He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 
Jesus fucking Christ.
"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."
"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 
He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 
Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.
"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."
Oh God–
"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."
"Hmh…"
"Don't wanna live without that smile."
You don't have to. 
God, you don't have to…
"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.
"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"
"...Ok." 
He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.
"Come on. Make me believe it."
"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.
"That's my girl."
Oh fuck…
He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 
And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?
The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.
"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."
He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.
He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.
He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 
No one can fake such fervor.
You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.
"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."
You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.
"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"
"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."
He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.
"Yeah…?"
"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."
His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.
"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."
"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.
"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."
If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.
"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.
"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 
"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."
Wow… He is a bit pissed.
Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 
It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 
"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 
Whoa. 
Ok…
First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.
You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.
Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…
There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.
"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"
"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 
Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.
He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.
Oh f–
"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 
"Uh–...."
Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 
"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."
"Oh god…"
There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.
"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 
You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.
"Simon–"
His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.
"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."
You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 
You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.
"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."
He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.
"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."
The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.
"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"
"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 
"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."
Shit…
"I, I'm gonna…"
Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.
He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.
Fucking bastard…
Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 
You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.
His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 
Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.
"Jesus Christ…" 
He sounds dazed. 
Relieved. 
"Should've done this weeks ago."
You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.
"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 
"Yeah. You should have."
"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.
"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."
He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 
The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…
And love.
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controld3vil · 21 days
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atreides and bene gesserit
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pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic), austin butler x actor!reader
synopsis: requested by this ask!
⤷ alt: as clueless as you were about your sister's role, it brought you much surprise and joy to see her on the same carpet as you.
notes: reader uses fem pronouns as she's playing a role as a bene gesserit. reader is also described as wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit. and i really enjoyed lea seydoux's performance and hope to see more of it !! this is also COMPLETELY separate from the first two posts ive made since the readers r playing different characters yeah?
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When Denise Villeneuve asked you about the role of Lady Margot Fenring, you were genuinely shocked about his decision. You appreciated his works but have never gotten close to any of his sets before. You have worked with directors who've admired Villeneuve for his imaginative mind. And now, you witnessed his creativity in person for the first time.
The role was small and not as significant as the other main leads. Regardless, your character was just as enigmatic and complex as any other in the Dune franchise. Even though your time was short, it was a fun experience to learn and observe from. You weren't able to meet the entire cast after production, but with the NYC premiere, you were able to link up again.
You heard your name being called out. "Hello! How are you?" The well-known comedian and presenter by the name of Amelia Dimonberg was now beside you. In her jet-black corset dress, her style is chic and elegant. She hands you a microphone with the film's title plastered on it. "You look beautiful!"
"Thank you!" you sweetly recuperate, diverting your shoulders to the sight, cutely. You give a little pose before complimenting her own outfit. "You as well!"
"Do you have a memorable day on set that sticks out to you?" Amelia questions, subtly leaning toward your direction. And now you noticed her detailed eye makeup which enhances her outfit altogether.
"Well- I've had, like, only a few days," You let out a quick sigh. Truly it was nothing to be embarrassed about but you could not help but feel shy about it.
"Mmhmm! So all of them?"
"Yeah, all of them!" With ease, your shyness turns into giddy laughter as all you remember from your times on set. Recalling those tiny moments brought a small smile to your face. "Every day counted for me and that was enough."
"Oh absolutely!" Amelia chides, nodding in agreement. She quickly then moves onto the next question, "How long do you think you could last in the actual desert?"
"Oo that's a tough question," Lifting your fingers to rest on your chin as you try to contemplate an answer. "Ideally no- I feel like I could never recover from the heat."
"Yes yes, the heat's very intense,"
"Yeah- no I don't think I'd ever leave my house for that-" You shake your head nonchalantly, acknowledging how most of your scenes already were indoors. You could imagine how you would do in the desert of Abu Dhabi. It makes you appreciate the cast and crew even more for their effort to make filming more comforting and tolerable.
"Where would be your dream location to hang out? I'm assuming your home then since you prefer to say inside?" The blonde interviewer quickly catches on, eyebrows raising intrigued by your response.
Instead, you hummed bashfully, "Actually I think an oasis would be nice." The camera catches onto Amelia's face, fully fixated on you. "Which fits perfectly if I were to live in the desert actually!"
"Mm yeah, smart choice!" She responds more cheerily. "You can maybe go for a swim, you know-"
"Right right," You give her an playful look, "And you don't have to go thirsty!"'
"Absolutely, the best of both worlds," Amelia chirps, doing the same expression. "So this film centers a lot around dreams. Do you have vivid dreams of yourself?"
"Yes! I've uh- I've had many dreams of myself. I mean, this one, for example-" You turn to the camera, waving with the most adorable smile on your face. "'I'm living my dream right now!"
"You're living your dream right now!"
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In another section of the premiere, you were walking down the carpet for press interviews and photography. The set where the premiere was taking place was gorgeously made in the shades of black and orange, the perfect theme of the film. The entire venue was outdoors, allowing you to feel the cold air and be more at ease in the crowded space. There were more paparazzi than you had expected, and you suddenly became aware that you were alone. Without any friend or acquaintance to accompany by, you searched aimlessly for a familiar face.
Then there was a holler. And then multiple more came after, it made you confused really. Your head swerves to the sound of the person you so try to look for and immediately you're struck in awe.
"Anya?!" In an instant, you're seen running towards your sister in the far back of the premiere wall. People were reluctantly used to fast-paced relocations around the carpet. Therefore most did not mind your hasty stumbles through the crowd. It was almost comical how apparent your demeanor changed when you heard her, in fact, videos and pictures caught all of it.
"Hi!" She beams in her white dress robe. Her makeup was glowing, making her skin seem angelic, and sheer without impurities. Her outfit covers her like a nun, covering her head and body in almost transparent cloth. Yet it flows around her so elegantly, almost like she was an angel from the stars. She squeezes your figure firmly, only after releasing to gush about your appearance.
You adored a beige sleeveless jumpsuit. The color is complimented with tiny designs of sparkle. Its seams captured your figure perfectly, as you also wore a gold chain and bulky rings. From the lighting, it looks as though your outfit is shining. And to be completely honest, you prefer comfort over the judging looks of fashion critics. Therefore you wanted to wear something that you could still move comfortably in. Thus you were able to run over to your sister with ease.
Through the other lens and camera, they could pick up some of her words after. "You look so gorgeous! How are you here?!" Anya's expression changes into a perplexed one as she gets a hold of your shoulders, shaking them back and forth.
"I was invited obviously, "You said, mimicking her voice while holding onto her arms on yours. "You didn't tell me you were a part of Dune!" Viewers from afar could tell you were pushing an act, reacting as though you were petrified about how Anya managed to be here in the first place.
"I didn't know you were either!" She giggled, closing in on your right ear. Your sister whispers to you slowly, trying to withdraw from the camera and recordings. "Villeneuve had mentioned something but honestly I just thought it was a joke."
It was your turn to guff. Your mouth opens wide flabbergasted, looking sarcastically offended. "Why would you think he's joking?!"
Anya scoffs lightly, wanting to go further with the joke. "I don't know- I just didn't take his word seriously,"
"Why? Because you didn't think I'd make it into the film?" You accused, eyes widening with a hand over your heart. "You're so cruel."
"So cruel," She smirks up at you, then moves back to be by your side. You see her face forward the flashing cameras, as you do the same. "Come! Let's take some pictures!"
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"Your outfit looks beautiful by the way!" Anya Taylor muses, eyeing down at the fine details on your jumpsuit. "It's very... you!"
You give her a nod, before flattening some of the creases, "I thought this color was so exquisite, so I thought it would be perfect for the premiere." You lift your head to look at your sister, before realizing behind her, the upcoming stars of the film were getting ready to take cast photos. "Oh Anya- I think you should go!"
Your sister turns and then gazes back at you with a soft smile. "You should come with me!"
The thunder of cameramen and journalist blurred your focus for a moment. "Are you sure-"
Again the sound of your name is hurdled but this time from someone you haven't seen in a long time. Jessica Ferguson, who too wears a black body suit with veils and bold makeup. She waves her hand almost too eagerly to have you come closer alongside your sister. "Come, join us!"
Videos were filmed of the people gesturing to the cast of Dune in a line. Little by little, the row of people is filled and organized to be in the center of the camera's focus. Some actors had to move spots, due to lack of space or better color semblance on the other side of the row. You stood next to Jessica and Florence Pugh was beside your right, as you tried to stand closer for the picture.
Anya Taylor was on the opposite side, with Austin Butler and beside him, Timothee Chalamet. A noticeable clip taken all over was when the French actor went to greet the English actress, warmly, clasping her hand with both hands as a proper salute as on-screen siblings.
You did not mind the lack of attention. You were happy for Anya for achieving a great role. One with a welcoming cast and crew. It was then your eyes scanned down the row, from Zendaya to Stellan Skarsgard. Then to Austin, whom you've been familiar with since day one. Only him to find your gaze seconds later. You give a little nod and smile before averting your direction to Anya who is already staring at you with gleaming eyes.
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You were going back and forth with Jessica and Florence on your travels for a while. From plans reception to favorite desserts, all you three wanted to talk about was food. Paparazzi caught onto your banter quickly and snapped a few photos. You even went out of your way to do silly poses. Followed by Jessica and Florence, then did the same, sticking their tongues out in a rock star kind of fashion. You throw out piece signs, giving a dramatic frown as another flash happens.
Catch-ups were definitely refreshing and fun. Thus why you nearly jump when Austin appeared behind you.
"Oh my gosh, hey!" You stuttered, giving him a quick hug to calm your nerves. "You scared me!"
"Sorry sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!" He leans his head slightly, allowing better eye contact. You felt a few taps on your shoulder and noticed Jessica and Florence scurrying away, with their thumbs up, all goofy and excited.
Your eyes make it back to his. "I would've said hi back at the cast photo, but you were so far away," Shrugging you dismiss your failure as a mild missed opportunity.
But Austin shakes his head in an averted manner. "No- Don't worry about it." You could already sense interviewers and others with microphones closing on you two. You were out in the open, and it's bound to happen. "I wanted to- you know, say hi to you in a less chaotic place."
"I tried looking for you but there's just so many people," You give your costar an exhausted look. It was then a keen young man approached the pair of you. It was the People magazine, as you became aware of the logo alongside their camera and microphone.
"Hey, would you two mind a short interview for People's magazine?"
Truly, this was what premieres were about. The cast and crew meet with fans to show what they have worked so hard for. You brought you no better satisfaction than to praise everyone's efforts. The interviewer then proceeded to have a quick introduction of you and Austin beside you. You both had separate microphones in each hand. Once the video started rolling, you peered at the camera and gave the audience a grin.
"So how are you guys doing? Met all of your lovely cast members yet?"
"Oh absolutely," You emphasized every syllable, nodding. Austin only glances at you in amusement. "It's crazy how many people are here I was so overwhelmed!"
"Yeah, it was pretty crowded," The male actor adds, lowering his microphone slightly.
"Hopefully it will die down!" The interviewer beams. "So what was it like getting to know each other in this film? How was the first day on set like?"
"Oh, well it went very smoothly," You start, staring up at Austin in approval. "Even though my time was short on set, I feel like we had a pretty good rhythm starting out."
"I was about to say! The scenes with Feyd and Lady Margot were really something!"
"Why thank you, we appreciate it," Austin nervously laughs, scratching his ear.
The interviewer takes the lead to discuss your preparation for the role and how it was working with Villeneuve. As new characters, you and Austin both talked about your views on both of your characters. Both are very different yet mysterious to the viewers. Additionally, you two were introduced in a similar scene of the pit fight. The People's Magazine interviewer was compelled to compliment Austin on his opening scene. You knew he had practiced the choreographed fights vigorously. And of which you were lucky to witness on the days that you were present.
"It was completely freeing and different than what I was used to doing," Austin probes, leaning toward your direction. "Were you there for the pit fight?"
"I think I was," You turn, similarly. "I remember watching from afar and thinking wow." Immediately you could sense him eagerly looking down at you with a sly smile. "He was- Austin did amazing with the fight choreography, I was impressed!"
"Was this the first time seeing him in full costume too?"
"Oh yes!" You bonked your hand on your forehead, "He was and I just- couldn't believe it was him!"
Suddenly Austin jumps in, "She was startled when I first came up to her in full costume."
"You came out of nowhere, by the way!" You rebutted, giving him a side glance.
"I didn't mean to," As he tries to reassure his actions, "I wanted to give a good first impression!" It was humorous how playful you two were together despite having dissimilar filming schedules. Though most of your scenes involved Butler, your friendship only became more apparent weeks after working together. It was off and on for months at a time due to being busy in other countries simultaneously.
Eventually, you were able to link up again weeks before the premiere. After waiting a long time to meet up, you almost felt relieved that you hadn't seen your costar in a while.
"And Austin, how was filming with her?! From a character's standpoint, what kind of dynamic do you see playing out?" The People's Magazine interviewer perks up, having the camera transition from his face to Austin's.
"Well I'd say, she's great. You know I've got to meet a lot of amazing people in this film. And," He says your name sincerely, "She's- she's one of those people. I can't say much for Lady Margot and Feyd's relationship- you know there's a lot of that's still not uncovered. We don't really know what's happening but kind of have an idea of something. And to have such a great actress like her, it makes everything feel authentic and- feel the tension." It felt as if you were in a daze, eyes completely focused on his words with such admiration and grace. Before you knew it, you were smiling as if you had won the best possible prize in the world. His compliments to you meant more than you had anticipated really.
Unbeknownst to you, the cameraman had caught your lovestruck expression before directing attention back to the interviewer. "And how about you, Miss Margot?"
"I'd say it's the same," Now looking at the interviewer, only momentarily back at your costar. "Austin's- he's great at all the stunts and acting like a scary dude. Every scene with him was fun to do. Like he's all serious in character but once they yell cut! he's so nice and funny!" Your bubbly laugh breaks as you can feel your face growing hot.
"Well I appreciate you liking my humor," Austin pokes fun at you, fanning a little air towards you.
You mutter a soft thank you! before continuing, "And he's dedicated you know? I remember one scene, a little spoiler, where Feyd is about to be tested by Lady Margot, and I just couldn't do it! I couldn't keep a straight face!"
"Really?!"
"She just kept breaking, I don't know why," The actor shrugs, his attention closely drawn to you. "We had a few takes on a few days."
"We did! We did!" You gave a big frown, "You just have a really distracting face."
"Do I?" Austin asks, between the lines of teasing and coolly.
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By the time, other premieres had occurred, people were still focused on your interactions with Austin Butler. Your chemistry on and off screen on the carpet was hilarious. And with how polarizing your characters were, it made many clips of your shared encounters gain attention.
A few short videos were recorded after the People Magazine interview of you and Austin, bashfully talking behind the stage. The two of you went back and forth whispering in each other's ears about what was unknown to the viewer. Through a bird's eye view, the video also catches you hugging your arms before zooming in on Austin's placing an arm around your figure.
Another clip that had been reposted many times was when you both took duo pictures together. As you comfortably shift your weight on one leg, as you turn to have your side face the flashing paparazzi. Whilst the Elvis actor stands beside you at a pleasant distance, doing the same pose to the other side. There was one instance where you lifted your head to make eye contact with your eyes instantly brightening. As Austin's smile widened, only to blow air in your face.
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nicksolemnlyswears · 5 months
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WAYS TO DESTRESS
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summary: after a long day, all coriolanus wants to do is blow some steam off. nothing will stop him from getting what he wants…not even your sleepy state
pairing: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, somnophilia, dub non-con, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy spanking, belly bulge (?), LISTEN I KNOW ITS UNLIKELY BUT LET ME BE UNHINGED, a bit rough nothing too crazy, get your holy water though, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please)
a/n: this came to me the moment i opened my eyes this morning. pure filth. i shouldn't be proud but i am. goes to show how much coriolanus is plaguing my thoughts day and night. my new little hyperfixation. a new villain to add to my collection <3
PT. 2
requests open ✨
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All Coriolanus feels is anger. It's been pumping through his veins throughout most of the day, almost causing him to lose his composure at all the wrong places. He can never afford to fuck up. He already did it once, and second chances are nonexistent in the Capitol.
He owes a lot to Dr. Gaul. After all, she saw the value in Coriolanus. She saw right through him and his faux kindness and unearthed his true wickedness. He simply needed a nudge in the right direction.
While working for with her is an honor, it is hardly easy. Like all aspects of his life, he's had to adapt to how she runs her lab. Coriolanus is hardly a follower; he's a leader, but as long as he remains under the tutelage of Dr. Gaul, he will have to follow her orders. Which means he has to talk when spoken to and perform how she expects him to.
There are days when it all becomes too much. His pride rises to the surface, forcing him to stifle it as best as he can before he does something he regrets.
He has to think of the scrutinizing gaze of his peers waiting for him to fail. As much as they pretend to be his friend, they want him to make a mistake so they can rise to the occasion. He won't allow that.
His apartment is silent when he steps in. The lavish decor is obscured by the lack of illumination. It's to be expected, seeing it's well past midnight.
Leaving his coat by the door, Coriolanus walks towards the bedroom. He needs to destress now, or he'll carry all his anger and frustration on his shoulders for the rest of the week. He can't have that. He can't lose control and look bad in front of Dr. Gaul and the others.
In the master bedroom, he finds you lying on the soft mattress, tangled in the silky bedsheets. He watches your chest rise and fall with gentle breaths, your pouty lips slightly ajar. It's a shame he's going to disturb your sleep, but he needs to let off some steam. That's one of the numerous reasons he has his pretty little girlfriend.
Coriolanus unbuttons the red waistcoat and removes his shoes, leaving them in the armchair. As he approaches your side of the bed, he notices the bright orange bottle on the nightstand and your book thrown haphazardly on the floor.
It's rare for you to take sleep aid medication because you hate how they knock you out. You only take them when you've had a particularly rough day. It seems Coriolanus is not alone in this. Today has been bad for both you and him.
Still, his plan remains the same. Coriolanus leans over you, kissing your forehead gingerly before his lips continue to trail down to kiss your cheek and lips. You don't stir with the soft touches.
Coriolanus darkly chuckles. It's not often he gets to do this. He'll take it as a treat for his patience throughout the day. He'd say the universe is working in his favor if he believed in such silly things.
Having you so pliable and willing in his hands excites him to no end. Lying on the bed, he digs his head on your shoulder, leaving marks for you to find in the morning. It spurs him on to hear little gasps falling from your lips.
"Beautiful and all mine," he mutters into the silent room as he lowers down the thin straps of your night dress to reveal your chest.
Coriolanus takes his time with your body. Even while asleep, it responds to his touch. He sucks and squeezes on your breasts harshly, biting down on the stiff peaks of your nipples.
He's not as gentle this time around compared to other times in the past. Then, you were simply asleep; now, you're completely doped out. He will miss your whines and the way you berate him.
Coriolanus continues down your body until he settles between your legs. "Fuck, darling," he audible groans when he lifts up your nighty to find a patch on your panties. Who would've thought you'd be as responsive to him while asleep.
He gives into his urges as he presses his nose against your center, smelling your arousal and licking up the wet fabric with his tongue. He only parts for a moment as he roughly slides the thin fabric off.
With you like this, there is no reason to tease. He doesn't have to kiss your thighs or hold himself back. Coriolanus can truly delve into what he wants without a spectacle.
It's why he buries his tongue into your wet cunt as soon as he has the chance. He holds your limp thighs on his shoulders as he presses himself against you, his blue eyes closing in ecstasy at the taste.
Soft noises- moans- come from above him as you slightly stir in your drug-induced sleep. While Coriolanus suck on your pearl of nerves, he wonders what you're dreaming about and if he's the protagonist as well.
His hips roll onto the mattress underneath, soothing the ache on his cock. He could go straight to fucking you but wants this to last. He needs to keep his mind busy, and eating you out is the answer.
Unconsciously, you grind your cunt on his tongue, chasing your release. Coriolanus smiles at this and rewards you with fucking you with his tongue. He's determined to make you cum all over it.
"Oh," he hears you whine when his nose rubs on your sensitive clit. He knows you're close. He feels it in the way your thighs are suddenly clenching around him.
There is no doubt in his mind you're still asleep. If you were awake, you'd be gripping his hair like a vice and calling his name for everyone to hear. You'd be begging him to fuck you silly.
Coriolanus laps up your juices like a starving man when you cum. Despite living in poverty, he never felt the need to act in such a way until he tasted you for the first time. He treats his sweet little girlfriend's cunt like a delicacy.
He stops himself before he almost makes you cum again as he slurps and sucks on your cunt. From up close, he can see the way your clit twitches under the pleasure. He leaves a bruise that will turn purple by morning on the inside of your thigh. It'll be a telltale sign he was there, devouring you while you soundly slept. A reminder you're his to use whenever he pleases.
Taking the rest of his clothes off, Coriolanus returns to your sleeping body. He pumps his cock in his fist as he looks at all the bruises and marks he left behind, and you'll have to hide because you can't have him seem like a pervert in front of his classmates.
Kneeling on the bed, he wraps your legs around his hips. He teases your wet cunt with the fat head of his cock, nudging over your clit repeatedly. He continues this until his cock is slick with your juices. As an extra, he spits down on your cunt, spreading his saliva over you. Not because you need lubrication but because he likes the sight of him on you in every which way.
No matter how many times Coriolanus has fucked you throughout your two years of being together, he's always had trouble pushing his cock in. He has to take a deep breath when he bottoms out as your cunt tries to choke him out. It's one of his favorite things about you, a constant reminder of the day he took your innocence.
It's only when he begins rocking his hips into you that you give any indication of waking up.
"What?" You whine as panic settles into you. Your brain isn't working properly. You're hazy and confused. Not knowing where you are, you get scared, and your heart races.
Coriolanus holds your hands as you begin struggling. As he leans down to talk to you, he pins you down, leaving you impaled with his cock. He immensely enjoys the struggle but can't have you screaming out in panic.
"It's just me, darling," he coo's in your ear, nuzzling his nose against your face. It works as your heart begins settling down.
"Coryo?" You sniff with tears in your eyes as your panic is quickly swept away. You try to speak, but the pills leave your tongue heavy and your brain foggy.
"Yes, your Coryo," he responds, kissing your cheek sweetly.
You've stopped struggling and spread your legs once again, just how he likes it. He even feels you clenching down purposefully around Coriolanus' cock. You're no saint; you enjoy making it hard for him even in your drugged-out state.
"Relax, darling. Go back to sleep," he hushes you, softly rocking into you.
Your eyes are already closed as he utters the words. You have no choice in the matter. Granted, now you sleep calmer, knowing it's Coryo touching you and making you feel food.
Coriolanus calls your name once, twice, and there is no response. You're back with the sandman, peacefully asleep. He takes it as a sign to keep fucking you.
Kneeling back on the bed, Coriolanus brings up your thighs to touch your chest. Your pretty cunt is on full display, showcasing the hues of pink and glistening fluids that shine under the lowlights of the bedroom.
Coriolanus licks the pads on his fingers before they smack down on your center. The only way it'll look even better is if it had that familiar twinge of red. He aims for the center, straight at your pearl, and smacks his hand down several times.
It manages to wake you again, eyes hooded with sleep, staring at him and complaints falling from your lips. Each time the 'smack' reverberates and you flinch, he soothes the sting, spreading the clear strings of arousal that drip from your hole.
Only when your cunt is flushed red and your clit is puffed out of its fleshy covering, does he pull you down on his cock. He fucks in and out of you mercilessly, addicted to the way your tight walls hug his cock even as he pulls out.
He glances towards your face and notes you're back to sleep. If it were up to him, you'd take the pills more often just so he could find you waiting for him asleep, naked on the bed. A real-life doll of his own.
The sound of skin slapping and his desperate moans and grunts fill the room, along with some of your smaller ones. He doesn't tend to be so vocal; he prefers listening to you beg for him, but with no one to hear him, he lets it all out.
Coriolanus places a hand on your lower tummy, pressing down to feel himself through your walls. It's an erotic thing to feel his cock slipping in and out, reaching the deepest parts of you.
He slows the pace of his thrusting, opting to go harder and deeper, just where he can make out the bump on your pelvis of his cock head.
The pressure Coryo is causing doesn't go unnoticed by you. Groggily, you open your eyes to find him with his head dipped down, whispering profanities to himself, a pretty sheen of sweat covering his fair skin.
"Mmm, Co-coryo," you moan, catching his attention.
With a glint in his eyes, he grabs your hand, placing it where you can feel it too, his fingers lacing through yours as he holds it down, "Feel this? No one will ever get you to feel like I do, darling. I'm going to ruin you for all others. Not like I'll let you leave anyways."
It's never crossed your mind to leave Coriolanus. Not for a second. The moment you set eyes on him, you knew he was it, and the ring on your finger is a promise of that. It's why you let him use you as he pleases.
You babble out a response as the darkness consumes you once more. By morning, you'll barely remember a thing as a side effect of the pills, but Coryo won't let you forget.
The mixture of your relaxed state, Coriolanus' hand pressing down on you, and the angle of his thrusts allow for something that hasn't happened before. Something he'll enjoy for the years to come.
As he viciously snaps his hips to chase his release, you wiggle under him. There are words on your heavy tongue neither can make out, a warning.
"Shh," Coriolanus quiets you down, focusing on the way you're milking his cock for all that his worth.
He's in for a surprise when a particularly angled thrust causes you to squirt around him. A stream of your juices covering his cock and abdomen. Although he falters for a moment, he quickly pulls out and rubs at your clit, causing a smaller stream to leak out of you.
His night has become a hundred times better. His eyes widen in wonder as his brain creates new ways to have you and make you do it again. "This is going to be fun."
When you wake up in the morning, you don't remember what happened, but you know something did. It's in the way your cunt aches and how thick cum runs down your leg when you get up.
Brief, blurry memories surface as you shower. Truly, you didn't care. If anything, you're upset you missed out on the fun and can't remember the pleasure. Ultimately, you trust Coriolanus and that he won't hurt you.
You feel well-rested as you dress and make breakfast for the two of you. There is an undeniable ache in your cunt, but that's always welcomed. Your problems from yesterday are only a quiet hum in a dark corner of your brain.
"My love," you softly call out to Coriolanus, touching his naked shoulder.
"Good morning," he says with his eyes closed, although there is an undeniable grin on his lips. All the stress he felt yesterday has dissipated, leaving a pleasant feeling in his chest.
"Good morning to you, too," you giggle as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss. There is a tangy taste attached to them that you recognize well. "Had a good night, did you?"
"I certainly did. Do you remember anything?" He asks, sitting up on the bed. The falling bedsheets reveal his toned chest and stomach. Gently, you grab the tray with food and place it on his lap.
"Barely," you scoff, "It's a shame." You technically haven't had sex with Coriolanus in two long weeks. His stunt from last night did nothing to satiate you or your mind that keeps picturing him in all sorts of compromising positions.
Coriolanus hums as he takes a bite of toast. You know him well enough to know he's amused that you don't remember and that he's hiding something.
"What is it?" You prod, brushing a strand of pale blonde hair away from his eyes.
"Nothing," he says with a shrug. He's making you work for it. Coryo loves his games, after all.
"Coryo," you speak his name with a warning.
He takes his time, sipping on the glass placed on the tray. "I just…I didn't know you could squirt," he reveals cheekily, stabbing his fork on a piece of fruit.
"What? That's because I don't," you say, taken aback.
A crease forms between your eyebrows. You and Coryo are not ashamed to talk about sex. It took you by surprise at first because he always presents himself so elegantly and no-nonsense. Behind the scenes, though, when he's with you, he's open to discussing everything he wishes to try and his likes and dislikes.
You, in return, have been the same. Admitting that you've never been able to squirt and might never be able to. It's been a topic of conversation numerous times, seeing as it's something Coryo has always been curious about.
"Yes, you do. Last night, you squirted all over my cock and my fingers and my tongue," he boasts with a smirk as he remembers all the times he made you cum after that.
"I did?"
"You were such a good girl for me, darling," Coriolanus responds, putting the tray of food to the side and cupping your face, "All you had to do was relax."
"Hard to do when you're edging me for hours," you roll your eyes at him. Edging you is just one of the fun ways he tortures you.
"Don't be a spoilsport," he frowns, gripping your face harder before planting another kiss on your lips.
"It's not fair. I can't remember anything," you softly murmur. It's a real damn shame you won't remember the first time you squirt or the face Coryo made at the realization.
"Poor thing. I can show you how to do it again. I practiced last night a couple of times," he whispers in your ear, kissing down to your pulse point, "But I can't right now, or I'll be late."
"Huh?" You dumbly respond, enthralled by his words, imagining all the pleasure he'll give you.
"Thanks for breakfast," Coriolanus says, standing from the bed and heading into the bathroom butt-naked.
You watch after him lustfully and angrily, forced to continue your morning as if nothing happened.
In less than an hour, Coriolanus is ready to return to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He has to check for any progress in his experiment before heading to the university for his classes.
He sits you on the bed before he leaves, though, to show you something 'important.' "I'll see you tonight," he says, kissing the crown of your head and turning on the TV.
The screen shows you lying on your back, whining helplessly as Coryo slips two fingers into your cunt rapidly. The rings on his fingers and the palm of his hand glisten with your sticky juices.
He did not lie about your new ability as you watch your hole leak clear liquid. The Coryo on the screen, who had been encouraging you with lewd words, eagerly attaches his mouth to catch it all. When he pulls back, his chin is dripping with your release.
Watching yourself in that fucked out state and Coryo behaving so obscenely gets your silk panties wet. Glancing at the clock, you note you have 30 minutes till you have to be at the door.
In no time, you're spread out on the bed with your hand under your university skirt, panties pushed to the side fucking two fingers into your cunt. Your eyes are focused entirely on the screen, rewatching the clip.
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thanks for reading! i hope you liked it!
part two for coryo making her squirt while she's actually conscious?
1K notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 9 months
Text
The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It
Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.
Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)
Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!
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"Your hands are so big."
It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.
"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."
Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.
Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?
You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.
"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.
"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.
"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.
"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.
Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-
"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"
You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."
As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"
Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"
"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.
"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.
You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.
Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.
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"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.
"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.
"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.
It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".
"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.
"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.
With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."
"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.
"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.
It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.
"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.
God damn it.
You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.
Honey: We need to go to Plan C.
Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?
Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.
Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?
Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.
Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽
Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.
Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.
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Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.
"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.
"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.
"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.
It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.
You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.
"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.
Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"
You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"
Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.
"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.
"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.
Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.
"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.
"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.
"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.
Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."
Your breath hitched, "You do?"
Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"
He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.
Time for Plan D.
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"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"
"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.
"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"
It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.
"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.
"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.
"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.
When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.
"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.
"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.
If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.
"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.
Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."
It took everything in you not to scream.
The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.
With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.
Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board
Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.
Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?
Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate
Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?
Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!
Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?
You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!
Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?
Bagman: Like 52% nude.
Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.
Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?
Bagman: No that's plan G
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"Hey Bee!"
The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.
"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."
"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."
"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."
The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."
You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.
Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.
"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.
Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"
You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.
After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.
Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.
The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.
"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.
Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."
"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.
In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.
You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.
His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.
So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-
"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."
This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.
Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.
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The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.
He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.
Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?
Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.
"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.
You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.
"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.
"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.
"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.
His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.
You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.
"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.
"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.
"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.
"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."
His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"
"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.
"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"
You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.
"The first day of training?" He repeated.
"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."
Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.
"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.
His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.
Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.
When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.
"FINALLY!"
You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.
You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.
Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.
Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.
"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?
"Let's go."
He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.
"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.
"Making up for lost time!"
Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.
The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.
Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.
You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.
Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.
"Why do you keep doing that?!"
"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."
"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."
"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.
Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.
His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.
What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?
You wanted to know everything.
But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.
Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.
"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.
Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.
"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.
"I would love that Robby."
Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"
You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."
He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"
"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.
"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"
"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.
"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"
"As most things are."
"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."
You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.
"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.
"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.
"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.
"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.
Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"
Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.
3K notes · View notes
poisonlove · 2 months
Text
Study Session | c.s
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pairing: Cairo Sweet X fem reader
Summary: Y/n is terrible in literature and needs a hand
Words: 11.58 k
"Miss Y/S, could you come here for a moment, please?" Mr. Miller asks kindly.
I blink in surprise and walk towards the lectern, my feet almost stumbling on the wooden floorboards. I blush with embarrassment, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Cairo looking towards us with seriousness, organizing her belongings.
I swallow nervously and bite my lower lip, my eyes first glancing at Cairo and then at Professor Miller.
Now is not the time to think about your one-sided crush, y/n I mentally scold myself.
I force a smile and look at the professor with genuine curiosity. "Do you need something, sir?" I say, smiling happily, trying to hide my nervousness.
"I'm not sure how to put this..." Professor Miller sighs and takes off his glasses, looking up to meet our eyes. My smile falters seeing the concern and distress behind his eyes. Professor Miller sighs and takes the assignment I had done last week in his hands.
"It's... It's a mediocre work," he says hesitantly, almost embarrassed.
"To be honest... If you don't do something that impresses me, Miss, you'll fail my class," he says with a tone of voice almost guilty.
My palms sweat, and I try to remain calm. I knew I was really bad at literature, but I didn't expect to fail the year altogether. But what can I say? No matter how hard I try, I can't adequately transcribe what I think onto paper.
"I'm sorry," I whisper reluctantly, deeply ashamed of myself.
Professor Miller gives me a gentle smile, tilting his head slightly as he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"You have great potential," he states with conviction, trying to instill confidence in me. "But you simply have a few more difficulties," he concludes with a compassionate tone, seeking my gaze empathetically.
I stare into his eyes, noticing the intention of conveying moral support.
"Miss Sweet," Professor Miller calls Cairo's attention, making her focus on him.
"Yes, Professor Miller?" she responds with a radiant smile, her eyes shining for... some strange reason.
"Could you help Y/N?" the professor asks, looking at me sideways.
His request makes me feel slightly offended for not having a say, but at the same time, it puts me in a state of anxiety because I would have to work with the girl I've always liked.
Cairo's eyes focus on my figure with curiosity, making me feel nervous and embarrassed by her enchanting beauty. A small smile spreads across her lips before she looks at the literature professor.
Brown eyes looking at Mr. Miller.
"Alright," Cairo responds with a shy smile, which also makes the professor smile.
I raise an eyebrow in confusion, observing this strange scene with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.
Cairo's smile is kind but enigmatic, as if hiding something behind that seemingly calm façade. I wonder what it could be, but I decide not to delve too deeply into it at that moment.
Professor Miller seems pleased with her acceptance and nods with a pleased expression. "Great! I'm sure you'll make an exceptional team," he comments enthusiastically, encouraging us to work together towards our common goal.
"Cairo," says the professor, maintaining a dazzling smile, "if you succeed in the task, you'll earn an extra credit," he announces proudly, turning his gaze towards his student with a mixture of hope and trust.
Cairo smiles weakly, visibly embarrassed by the attention she's received.
"Well then," I intervene timidly, trying to dissipate the strange tension that has arisen, "shall we?" I add, looking at the girl I've always had a secret crush on with flushed cheeks.
Despite my shyness and the nervousness that overwhelms me, I strive to maintain a calm and decisive tone, hoping to convey confidence both to myself and to Cairo as we prepare to face this new challenge together.
(...)
"So... What do you think?" I say nervously, my hands fidgeting with the threads of my jeans.
I roll a thread around my finger and pull it, tossing it into the grass.
Cairo's eyes fixate on my paper attentively, her pupils moving along my essay with seriousness. The brunette lowers the sheet and looks at me carefully.
"Well?" I say, feeling my stomach tied up with nerves. "Hmm..." She starts hesitantly, tilting her head and leaning against the tree behind her.
The day was perfect, and we had mutually agreed to spend it outdoors doing literature. The rays filtering through the branches highlight Cairo's face, making her eyes appear light brown
She was... Beautiful.
"Is it okay?" She says timidly.
Cairo hands me back the paper, and I sigh in frustration. I could sense that something was missing.
"Come on... Tell me the truth," I say, looking at Cairo curiously. The brunette bites her lower lip and adjusts her posture.
"So... It's not bad, but..." she starts and bites her lower lip, thoughtful. "It lacks emotion... I don't see the passion... I don't perceive anything," she confesses, and I pout.
Darn it... I wanted the truth, but it was entirely heavy
"I knew I shouldn't have spoken," she quickly says, quickly moving her hand, noticing my frown on her lips. "It's perfect," she smiles broadly, and my eyes soften seeing how sweet and cute she was with that expression on her face.
The dimple was adorable, and her eyes sparkled when she talked about something related to writing.
"No... I asked you to be honest, and you were," I say quickly, smiling.
Her eyes look at me with curiosity, and I try to maintain eye contact as much as possible. "Okay..." Cairo murmurs before giving in to this staring contest, taking her notebook.
"I... " I start hesitantly, "have an old piece that I'd like you to read," I say timidly.
I was aware of the risk that she would realize it was about her, but despite that, I thought it was my best work. After all, I wrote it with all the love I feel for her.
"Oh... I'd be happy to," she says sincerely, her pearly whites showing her beautiful smile. Cairo's eyes light up at the mention of reading something, and she quickly reaches her hand towards me.
Shyly, I grab my backpack and search for my work, immediately noticing that it was sandwiched between two notebooks. My cheeks were red from embarrassment for having something so special to me crumpled and carelessly thrown in my backpack.
Cairo takes it without making any comment on its sorry state and begins to read it.
"In the twilight of our intertwined destinies..." The brunette had a focused expression, her voice soft and enveloping.
I wait with trepidation, observing every nuance of her expressions
"she emerges like an elusive shadow, a siren of my lost dreams, with chestnut locks like the earth." Cairo sighs "Her eyes, deep as the abyss of the soul, reflect falling stars and unfathomable secrets, like dark water on a moonless night, where the lost traveler wanders." Cairo suddenly stops, lips still suspended on the sentence.
Her gaze drifts amidst the words as a wave of emotion envelops her voice.
I remain silent, captivated by her interpretation.
The brunette continues, her voice now softer, almost whispered. "Her smile, a fleeting glimpse of light, a glimmer of hope in the darkness, yet also an echo of sadness in the relentless passage of time, a memory of what could have been."
Cairo voice resonates with the melody of the words, conveying every nuance of emotion contained within the text.
I was completely captivated by her facial expressions.
"Yet, amid the folds of uncertain destiny, remains a lost innocence and an unspoken love, an incomplete harmony, an unexpressed desire, like a melody interrupted in the night wind."
"In her breath dance promises of another life, where perhaps our hearts will meet, in the stillness of a world without end, where time is not the master of our destinies."
Cairo tightens the grip on the paper.
"But for now we part ways, like the waves leaving the shore, destined to wander alone in the depths of time. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my being, her essence remains engraved like an ancient melody."
As she reads those words, Cairo's tone of voice becomes soft and melancholic, conveying a sense of nostalgia and sadness. Her words are filled with emotion, with a slight tremor in her voice reflecting the depth of her feelings. Cairo seems to be carried away by the intensity of the text, and her reading is infused with an aura of melancholy and reflection.
"And so I venture into the night, with her memory as my guide, suspended between the pain of loss and the hope of return. In the silence of my soul, I continue to dream, hoping that one day our destinies will intertwine again."
After finishing the reading, Cairo remains silent for a moment, her gaze lost in deeper thoughts. I can sense her mind in turmoil, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Then, slowly, she lifts her gaze towards me, a spark of interest shining in her coffee-colored eyes.
"Who is the muse behind this extraordinary piece?" she asks, her voice warm and full of curiosity, while her expression reflects a sincere desire to understand the hidden meaning behind the words.
I knew perfectly well that I couldn't say it was her, so I just shrugged nonchalantly. "No one in particular," I add calmly, even though my heart was beating rapidly inside me.
"Yet it seems so specific," Cairo observes, glancing at the paper.
Her words make me uncomfortable, but I try to maintain composure. "It's just a product of my imagination," I say with a forced smile, hoping to divert attention away from myself.
"The only certainty is that she's a brown-haired girl with brown eyes," Cairo asserts with a mischievous smile, and a shiver runs down my spine. "The classic always attracts, it seems," she adds, chuckling softly.
Her observation makes me feel like butterflies are doing acrobatics in my stomach.
"Don't be stubborn now," I blurt out in embarrassment, trying to deflect attention from the imminent truth that Cairo is about to uncover with her acute intelligence.
Cairo bursts into laughter, a sound so genuine and contagious that it makes me feel special. Her laughter fills the air around us, wiping away any traces of embarrassment and fear, and I find myself laughing along with her, feeling light and free.
Cairo stops laughing and smiles, a look of sincerity painted on her face.
"It seems you were good at freelancing after all," she observes with a light and friendly tone.
Her comment makes me feel appreciated and recognized for my abilities, and I smile in response. "Thank you," I reply with gratitude, feeling encouraged by her approval.
"I think Professor Miller will like it," Cairo continues, biting her lower lip, lost in her thoughts.
A strange sparkle lights up her eyes, and at that moment, I decide to ask her a question that has tormented me for too long.
"Cairo do you have a crush on Professor Miller?" I ask timidly, curious but also intimidated by the possible answer.
Cairo blushes deeply. "What on earth are you asking?" she responds sharply, clearly embarrassed.
"From the way you react to his mention..." I say with curiosity, "and also you're completely red," I add with a timid smile.
Cairo shakes her head firmly. "No, no," she responds promptly, "I admire Professor Miller, but I don't have a crush on him. He's old, and, above all, he's married." Her tone is decisive.
"Well, gray hair isn't very attractive, right?" I ask with a smile on my lips, while I observe Cairo nodding slightly, smiling broadly and showing her dimples.
Freckles surround her face as her hair falls gracefully around her shoulders.
Cairo looks up at the sky, which is turning orange at sunset, a sign that the day is coming to an end. "I think it's time to go," she says timidly, almost regretfully.
"Is the study session over already?" I say in surprise, pouting.
Cairo nods and smiles. "So, do you like literature now?" she winks, teasing me.
"Not exactly, but the lesson goes better with you," I reply, aware of what I'm saying and noticing the slight blush on Cairo's cheeks.
I realize what I've said afterward and feel terribly embarrassed. A wave of nervousness overwhelms me as I notice a hint of pink on Cairo's cheeks.
Oh darn, I want to die, I think dramatically.
Cairo looks away. "Well, see you tomorrow.""Ah, yes, of course! See you tomorrow," I reply, trying to hide my embarrassment behind a smile. I feel the heat rising in my face as the embarrassment grows inside me. "Thank you for today, it was... interesting," I quickly add, hoping to alleviate the strange tension that had arisen.
"Thanks to you," she says softly, her gaze warm and comforting.
With a smile on my lips, I watch Cairo walk away. Despite the day starting off badly, it ended in the best possible way.
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astrophileblogs07 · 2 months
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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT.20
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⚫ Opposite to the stereotype of Leo being a narcissist, its the Aquarians who are more narcissist than ANY other zodiac. Esp its the Dhanishta naks out of the Aqua naks who are so.
⚫ I have seen 3 Aquarian moons (of Dhanishta nak) who had a poverty stricken first half of life (childhood, teenage years) but then they become well off like rlly very well off in their second half (esp after marriage). They marry rich 🤑 too. What i am saying here is the dramatic transformation of their financial life.
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⚫ Pisces men are physically abusive. That's it. Esp the March Pisces. They literally are a bully. (Dont be fooled by the beautiful doe eyes lol)
⚫ "WOW What voluminous and luscious hair he's got!" -my ♌ rising and moon mom commenting on a side character with insignificant role in a movie 🤣. I wasn't noticing that at all...but she seemed to be stuck on that feature 😂.
⚫ Martian influence on a chart can actually have a liking to dangerous weapons and ammunitions. (Like idk I weirdly love them 😂😂)
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⚫ Females with Ketu ruled naks are the first group of people whom male perceive as "threat". (Second is mars btw). Like if the other person is a typical male (egoistic, chauvinist) they will literally hate you to the core coz they know you equal them in all ways (except you know what LMAO 🤣). So they'll try to pin you down or belittle you etc. (sad, but since I have experienced I wanted it to share w you guys)
⚫ Also I love the way Ketu Nak women get along becoz mostly they have so much in common. And by that I mean how the society (male dom) treats them. I am not saying they're an "outcast" but the reaction they face just coz the male species get intimidated by us which has an cascading effect on our mental peace is beyond tolerance.
⚫Ketu naks are sexyyyyyy 🖤👁️🫦👁️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
(I always imagine a smokin hot biker girl 👩🏻‍🎤with leather jacket and smoky eyeshadow whenever I hear "Ashwini, Magha and Mula")
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⚫ I have seen a Chart which was totally "Mars" chart and I'll tell you, that person has Aries asc, Moon, Mars and (Mercury ig is in Scorpio?idr) along with Scorpio sun. And that person is like personified version of the planet itself. So cunning and so shrewd, potentially be a mastermind. Statergic. Secretive af. (Might be their middle name to exaggerate). Close to their mom. Loves friends (friends over anything). Also they have a "reddish" tint to their skin (no health probs, but yeah that planet does that). Knows how to tackle any embarrassing moment in public and deal with it. (I am jealous of him coz i wanted to be like him in every way 😂)
⚫Lilith and Pluto aspects in natal chart can actually survive 8H synastry. Almost same energy and themes. 💀
⚫Why are Maghas the "scapegoat" of the family? Like they be framed in a situation with which they have no relation with. Its annoying to see. Its like you're locked in your room chilling and as soon as you step out, everyone in the family is blaming you for something or the other. Now you're the "bad guy". (Yo wtf 🤡). Added to the generosity of Leos, people target you often. 😕
⚫Libra men CANNOT stand loneliness and being ostracized at all in any way. I have seen this in every Libra I came across. For eg: if you're the "black sheep" they won't talk to you and will go with what the crowd says. And if people have outcasted them just becoz they're with you/involved with you, they'll drop you like hot potato. People say and stereotype Capricorns for being the one who cares about reputation and all, but her 'Venus-ruled-Saturn-exalted' sister also is same. 💀
(no wonder they're besties lol)
P.S: I read a post here which said "Eye contact with 8H synastry hits different" ( i am not copying, i don't remember the username) and boy is that true 💀💀💀. Like I was -->😯😳🫣. Coz I have experienced that 🤣🤣. It does, than any other eye contact I have seen. Lmao 🤣🤣.{Edit: its @zeldasnotes 🖤😁}
Hope you liked it 😁😊. Until next time! 👋🏻
Love you y'all ❤️❤️❤️
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dragonsholygrail · 4 months
Text
Brighter Than The Sun
Astarion x gn!Reader
a/n: I have no idea if this was a prompt I saw somewhere or if this was completely out of my brain, the idea was from months ago and I finally got around to writing it.
summary: With the parasite no longer in your brains, Astarion can no longer go into the sun. You try everything you can think of to help him experience the same heat but with no luck. Until you think to use yourself as a means for Astarion to feel the suns warmth once more.
word count: 1.7k
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From the shadows he watches you, his red eyes almost gleaming and noticeable through the darkness. He stands behind the door, watching you, waiting for you… He needs you and yet he knows you need to stay away, if only for a little while longer. Long enough to get what he wants.
Astarion stands behind the door of the home you two share together in Baldur's Gate. With the parasite long gone and his ascension a trickle of a memory, Astarion has long since been unable to walk in the sun. It spurns him once more as if his mask had been unveiled and even the sun could see what he truly was. While on the other hand, darkness has greeted him back like an old friend and he remains cursing it.
More than anything he yearns to once more see the color in the world, to feel its warmth on his cold skin. But even after years of searching, he feels as though you two aren’t any closer to finding a cure, from ridding him of the curse forced upon him so long ago. Even so, his mind stays focused on the task and it touches him deeply that it remains in yours as well.
Which is what has brought along today’s events. When reality had first set in, Astarion couldn’t ever explain the despair he felt toward never being able to feel the sun’s warmth again. But he didn’t have to explain. He knew you understood, he knew you saw him for all he was. You have for probably much longer than he gave you credit for. Always the one to try and fix things, Astarion wasn’t surprised when you tried thinking of clever ways he’d be able to feel the sunlight again. You had tried creating the hottest of fires and yet it didn’t feel the same. Nothing ever felt the same. Astarion had given up and urged you to do the same. He should’ve known you well enough by now to know that wasn’t something you were capable of.
So this morning when you began guiding him toward the door, Astarion briefly questioned if he was being led to his demise. If you had finally gotten tired of him and decided to end it all. Of course you hadn’t. Wouldn’t. Who’d ever get tired of him, after all… He only resisted briefly until you ended up explaining your entire plan to him. To have you stand in the sun and then shut the door and hug him. So that way, he may once again feel the heat of the sun against warm flesh.
Astarion’s heart swelled, lips parted as he struggled to react and while he still couldn’t quite express his gratitude and affections out loud, he knew he could show you them through his actions and it would always mean just as much. He may have thought the plan ridiculous, silly even, but it was your attempt that moved him. The way you never gave up on him. Now here you two are, you out in the sun as he lurks in the depths of the shadows. Astarion’s lips part as he watches you bask in the sunlight's rays, your eyes closed and a soft smile on your face.
Whilst always beautiful, Astarion remains even more assured that you are most beautiful in the sun. His feelings toward you both similar in the weight you hold in his heart. His eyes trial over your form, looking on as the sunlight highlights your complexion, the sun shimmering across your skin. The way it flickers off of you, making you appear even more brighter and full of life. Astarion watches it all, his attentions never having been more focused. He couldn’t dare look away from you and miss a moment of this.
You were so close and yet so far and as Astarion looked upon your beauty, memories from before starts flooding through his mind of him out there with you. Astarion couldn’t help but step forward, reaching out to you. He didn’t think, too caught up in how much he wanted you near. Not because of the sun but simply because you were you.
As his hand falls into a faint sliver of sun, instead of the comforting warmth he has shamefully become accustomed to, the familiar burning radiates across his skin. The sound of his skin sizzling rang in the quiet air and instead of peace the sun now brings panic, causing Astarion to release a high-pitched hiss. You jump, opening your eyes and looking over at him as Astarion quickly draws his hand back. You take a step to him but he uses that same hand to motion for you to stop.
“No! Don’t come closer. Just stay out there… for a little while longer,” Astarion pleads, brows furrowing deeply. It wasn’t until this moment, this instant where he’s reminded of the pain the sun has the power to inflict upon him, that he thinks your once silly idea may actually be important.
“Astarion-“ You try, tilting your head, eyes on his crackling hand that already starts to heal itself. But it’s one shake from his head that has you quieting. The softness in his gaze that has you stopping from stepping into his darkness. You look over him before giving a tentative nod. Your body turns back toward the sun within the space of the open door, but your eyes occasionally flicker over to him.
His fingers press into the flesh as it returns to its original smooth texture, the only trace of it being the faint throbbing that was already starting to fade too. As Astarion stares at you as you stand in the one place he could not reach you, despair flowers in his chest like a plague. You two are so different. While dealing with the parasite, while able to walk into the sun, Astarion could simply ignore it, not think about it because there were so many other important things to think about. Could push their differences aside in order to use you, then eventually love you.
But all that was gone now. You could walk in the day while he was stuck in the shadows. Even while only inches away, to Asatrion, it was like he could see an invisible barrier set between you both. A force that stops him from being with you, touching you. Something he could never cross so long as he was like this— a vampire spawn.
He was not good for you, he knew. All this time, Astarion allowed himself to be greedy, convinced himself that you need him as much as he needs you. But his love was doing exactly what the dark was doing to him. Trapping you. He was sure that if your heart wasn’t so big, you’d be out in the sun more often. Like you deserved.
Then you did the most peculiar thing. In a flash, you were closing the door, objecting yourself to the dark, and you reach for him. One hand wrapping around his waist as the other grips the nape of his neck. Both use their strength to pull him into you. Before Astarion can process what’s happening, you’re hugging him.
Warmth radiates off your skin and spreads over his. You guide Astarion’s head into your neck, letting him feel all the heat the sun left on you. Now, after this time being with him, Astarion doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. His arms wrap around you firmly as he exhales a shaky breath.
“I could feel you thinking from all the way over there,” your smooth voice washes over him, making warmth spread within him as well as across his body. He burrows closer to you, soaking up everything your skin was offering. He could imagine the fierce sun and how it must have felt upon first contact. But somehow, when it was you providing it instead of the sun, it was better. So much better.
He finally had you in his arms and the fog that moments prior were tormenting him now clear away. As you imply, he was thinking too much. He was spiraling and second guessing himself and even worse, you. He knows that you would never truly do something you didn’t want. You wouldn’t be with him unless it’s what you wanted. He didn’t have the power to trap you and he would never want it. While he can’t deny your differences, he also can’t say they’re a bad thing. He likes that you’re not the same person. Although, Astarion would dare say he’d make a lovely suitor for himself if the chance arose.
“What ever are you talking about, darling?” Releasing a light-hearted chuckle along with the question. Astarion’s hand brushes along your neck as well, the skin feeling even warmer here. Everything in him tells him to hide his feelings, to brush them aside and offer a short quip. While he knows he’ll end up telling you everything later, right now he can’t help but evade the vulnerability that was controlling him.
“Oh, I must be seeing things, then,” you tease right back, understanding Astarion and playing along with it. Astarion closes his eyes, gratefulness filling his body and pouring out in his physical contact with you.
“Hmm, must get that checked out,” he shoots back, not able to stop the words from slipping out of his mouth. You both end up laughing together and the peace that spreads through the atmosphere around you two reminds him why he never ends up keeping anything from you anymore. He learned his lesson once before.
The two of you fall into a peaceful silence as you remain hugging in the darkness. Your skin quickly grows colder again, losing what your time in the sun left you with. Even so, neither of you step away from the hug.
“You know, out of all the ways you’ve attempted to give me back sunlight, I have to say, this is by far my favorite,” Astarion admits, moving to rest his forehead against yours. The warmth he feels with you blazes hotter than any sun could ever supply him. He hears as your heart picks up and your neck once again becomes warmer than the rest of your body. Astarion does not hold back his grin, informing you of his awareness, yet remains still as he enjoys what he can get.
Astarion keeps you close as he realizes that any lack of sun is worth it when he gets moments like this in return.
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cultofdixon · 1 month
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Secrets kept for another’s safety, until you lose it
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Some Saviors just can’t let go and go for what’s important to Daryl Dixon. But little did he know about more than losing his partner. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Injuries / Anxiety Attacks / Blood loss
Requested by: Anon
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Just because the Saviors War is over, doesn’t mean it’s completely dealt with. People have their vendettas and everyone will forever be scarred by the actions of Negan, apart of the Saviors or not.
When Negan was taken to prison instead of hell, the group decided that it would be best to have shifts of their people to watch The Sanctuary until they’ve fixed everything. Or until they put someone in there for a more permanent position.
After a month in and it was Daryl and Y/N’s turn to watch the place. Both having their own imprisonment to the place because of Negan. So they weren’t all too happy to be back. But the night gave them time to themselves.
Which led them on the roof this night…
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Daryl asks, putting the joint back to his lips watching Y/N finish putting up the last of their clothes on the clothesline. “You haven’t talked in a bit”
“Am I really that talkative?” She laughs softly, tossing the extra pins in the empty laundry basket. “I’m just enjoying the night with my husband. What else more could I ask for?”
“Could go dark on yea and say for Negan to be dead”
“Well you’re not the only one wanting that” Y/N sat on the stool while Daryl laid on a mattress they had brought up there. Neither of them want to live inside the walls anymore. “Can we just think toward the future?”
“We can” Daryl pushed himself to sit up, offering the joint to her as she shook her head. He stared a bit confused before shrugging it off. “Again, sunshine…what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”
Y/N fell silent once more before looking out toward the woods trying to find a good start to what she wants to talk about.
“You remember when you first held Judith?”
“Lil’ Ass kicker, yeah?”
“Do you remember what you told me afterward? When you handed her off to Hershel?”
The confused look on his face gave her answer.
“You said I don’t think I’d be cut out for this if I were Rick.”
“Why are yea bringing that up now? Are you—-“
“No!…No…” Y/N visibly slumped. “It’s just. The threat is gone. We have a home that is ours. Walls to protect us from the dead…we could. Do it. Have a child. Have that future…”
Give Daryl some credit when he has thought about this before. Having a child with his wife…all of their love put into a single human being. But all the anxieties that came with that thought flooded his mind.
“I don’t wanna lose you like Rick lost Lori” For something that happened years ago, it still haunted him. Especially with the scares they’ve had before a true moment of peace came.
“Daryl…that…that was going to happen to Lori regardless…she had a c-section with Carl, any baby after that was bound to come out the same way. This would be a first for me. We could prevent the possibility of needing a c-section”
“But there’s still a chance. I…” Daryl stopped himself to avoid her eyes and hang his head not ever wanting to think about that possibility. But then again…what was he going to do? “I just can’t” he whispers which led Y/N to bring herself to his level and coax his gaze back onto her. “I can’t lose you…I…I’ve lost enough and everything about how I’d be a terrible father aside I won’t be able to raise our child alone if I lost you…I will always need you”
As much as it broke Y/N’s heart to know his feelings and to have to push aside hers because the last thing she would want is to lose or hurt her husband…the tears fell from her eyes as she presses her forehead against his.
“Okay. Okay…You won’t lose me. Ever. I’m here…just me” Y/N brought her arms around his shoulders bringing her face into the crook of his neck as Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around her holding her close.
The things you do for love will always be something…that will always be changing
About four months later…
Y/N finally emerges from the basement living she and Daryl live in under the Grimes’s residence. She gave a smile to Michonne who said “good morning” in her arrival watching her friend join her and Judith at the kitchen island.
“Think you can handle breakfast?”
“Yes, I think I finally got over that ill spell” Y/N took a seat at one of the barstools smiling to Judith beside her before drawing her attention to the quick footsteps making their descend down the stairs.
“Hey! You’re up here, how yea feeling? Yknow Daryl—-“
“Has been having you ask every day since I came back from the Sanctuary not feeling well. I’m doing okay. Better than before”
“Great to hear that, I’ll tell Daryl in person when I make my rounds to the other communities” Rick smiles approaching Judith who was happy to see her dad. “First thing, take this little one to the teacher to watch her while we’re all out”
Michonne gave Y/N a confused look as she tiredly turned to her lifting her head from her hand.
“I’m gonna work in the pantry. So I don’t feel entirely useless”
“You’re allowed to take it easy” Michonne was stern with her words which brought the confusion out of Rick’s expression while he picked up Judith heading toward the door.
“I think I’ll be fine” Y/N shot a stern look at her friend as Michonne instantly waited for the front door to close, ultimately for Rick to leave. “The baby will be fine”
“Y/N, when are you going to tell Daryl so this doesn’t have been a secret between you and I? You’ve mentioned about a conversation you had with him that doesn’t quite add up to the fact that you didn’t——“
“He doesn’t want to have a baby.” Y/N frowns forming fists as she had the habit of digging her nails into her flesh to avoid the crying. “He doesn’t want to have a baby with him and I promised I wouldn’t. But I still got knocked up. Now he’s going to lose me or I’m going to lose him” the tears came anyway as the frustration was obvious in the discomfort in her face which led Michonne to maneuver around the island to bring herself beside her friend letting her rest her head on her shoulder as her arms caged her. “All I wanted was a family with the man that I love but the factors of being good enough or dying unexpectedly just floods that man’s mind and hell I can’t blame him for any of it. But now I’m plagued with it while I carry his child”
The two didn’t hear the click of the door finally closing. All that mattered was Michonne comforting her friend until it was time for the day to get started.
“I’ll be helping Gabriel rebuild his chapel with a few Saviors we have taken in for rehabilitation to show they can do something good. We are thinking of making it also the leading to the farm” Michonne stated as she walked Y/N to the pantry. “So I will be around if you need me. I’ll also keep an eye on the saviors. I know what some of them have been saying but we haven’t come across one angry with Rick or Daryl or literally any one of us”
“Are you really trying to say you’re watching out for my safety when I’m gonna be confined to a chair and a notepad for the most part”
“Yes, yes I am. Plus…the infirmary is right next door and I know Siddiq is doing his inventory and preparing shipment of medical supplies we’ve found on the runs we had recently.”
“Michonne”
“Yes?”
“You’re rambling” Y/N laughs opening the door to let herself in. “I’ll holler if I need anything” she says halfway inside when Michonne quickly reminded her about the no heavy lifting which got a scoff out of the woman.
About an hour or two has passed and Y/N groans out of boredom while sitting on the stool in the pantry. She stared out the window watching people walk passed or the few groups carrying wood and metal around for the walls and new buildings. Inventory was done, restock of what they have was done, and she was about to get started on the shipment for the Kingdom when she heard the door open.
“Michonne I really don’t need you watching—-“ Y/N stopped speaking when she watched the unfamiliar man step in quietly, assessing the environment. “Uhm. Can I help you with anything?”
“I was told by that scary priest that we hold the extra building supplies in here on occasion when the shed ain’t organized” He stepped around the pantry looking for himself before looking at Y/N as she couldn’t shake this familiar feeling. “You’ve got nails? Maybe a better hammer than this shit?” The hammer she didn’t notice before only confused her on where he pulled it out from. But asides from that, Y/N got off the chair and went to grab such for him.
“How’s the construction going?”
“It’s going. That Rick guy has us doing a lot just has his woman bossing us around” He scoffs looking at the jarred goods they have while Y/N knelt down to carefully go through a box for a smaller box of nails. “How can you even do what Rick asks y’all to do?”
“Have you even met Rick? He does the right thing, most of the time” Keeping Negan alive was the wrong one.
As Y/N rose to her feet with the box of nails she watched the man pull off the Polaroids that were stuck to the window. Just for a better look but it made her uneasy thinking he was going to get rid of them.
“Family?” He questions lifting up the ones with Glenn and Maggie, watching Y/N nod as he fixated on one with her and Daryl before putting them back. “Find’em?”
“Yeah, here” She handed off the box hearing him thank her before stepping out. But before she could even straighten out the pictures and take a seat, Y/N didn’t hear the door close entirely.
It didn’t take long for what to happen, happen.
The second she rounded the corner…Y/N flinched slightly being up close to the man without a name. She looked down to find a few nails shoved deep into her side. The shock made the pain not come right away and she was still experiencing it while he drove them to the point he couldn’t.
“You are just as dumb as you were back when you were his wife.” He glares into the deep pits of her soul as Y/N lifted her head from watching the blood spill from her side. Her mind racing to one thing. “Rick shoulda killed him. Your bitch dog of a man shoulda killed him. Maybe even the sword lady. Anybody. Then you all would’ve been seen as stronger instead of weak ass beings.”
“I-…I—-“ Y/N felt the tears spill and he grabbed her face to make her force eye contact.
“Let me take you away from everybody and I’ll watch them suffer” then the man quickly removed his hand when he heard voices outside. He pushed her aside but the blood loss led it to be a bit more dramatic as she fell to her knees.
As he made his escape through the back, Y/N slumped against the wall hesitant to touch her side. But they weren’t in prime condition, they could have some traces of rust and she can’t afford an infection if she wants any chance of that surviving.
A few were hard to pull out and one was embedded deep that Y/N contemplated letting it stay in but she was already this far.
Baby.
Baby.
Baby.
Baby.
Daryl… Y/N sobbed as she used her knife to cut into her to pull out the last nail that was embedded deep. She had to stop the bleeding so she could go get help and knew she had towels in the other room out of the foyer. But the blood loss was too much that when her weak body crawled about halfway there, it gave out.
“Daryl”
“I know this shithole sucks but yea said you’d be here earlier” Daryl clearly was in a mood while working on his bike, and with Rick only crossing his arms with an annoyed expression after his words. He knew he shouldn’t have expressed all of that. “Sorry. I’m frustrated.”
“Did something happen?”
“No…” Daryl frowns fiddling with a tool in hand. “Y/N hasn’t radio’d me today. Michonne was gonna give hers to my girl so I can check up on her but nothin’”
“I’m sure there’s a good reason for that. Plus I’ve got uh…an update of my own regarding your wife” Now he had to be careful. He did hear everything in the kitchen that morning but Rick isn’t the best at de-escalating the situation.
But it felt like fate for him to be interrupted by his radio in that exact moment.
“Rick—-Are you with Daryl?”
“Gabriel? Yes, why?”
“Michonne—-Hilltop” his end was cutting out and the urgency only stressed the retired sheriff and huntsman. “Bleeding—-Stopped—-Other reasons—-Y/N”
“Gabriel. Who’s injured?!” Rick shouts annoyed as the silence grew for a moment.
“Y/N was found bleeding—-Attacked—-Go to Hilltop”
“Load up. Forget the bike” Rick stated even though the second Daryl heard it was confirmed to be Y/N, he went right into the driver’s seat of Rick’s truck. Rick quickly got in the passengers and didn’t wait another minute to tell Daryl.
The accident happened a few hours ago before Gabriel radio’d Rick. He only comm’d him as per request from Michonne to update him and to get Daryl on their current actions of getting Y/N to the Hilltop. For their ultrasound machine. The one from the Sanctuary got moved to the Kingdom to be repaired by a retired technician.
Y/N sat up in bed in the medical trailer not liking the feeling of the IV in her arm and the antibiotics Siddiq had her on. Made the sick feeling return and the nausea meds never worked on her.
“Daryl is on his way” Michonne frowns sitting in the chair beside her as Maggie sat at the edge of the bed with her hand rested on her calf. Both being protective of her in her current state.
“I didn’t get a name of the guy…”
“Hun we don’t have to do that now” Maggie assured her. “Aaron and Rosita are looking for the guy back home with the description you gave before they moved you here. We don’t have to talk about it at all and focus on you staying alive and healthy”
The tears returned as Y/N pulled her hand away so she could hide her face in them. As she sobbed she didn’t hear the sound outside of 1. The car stopping in front of the trailer. 2. Daryl shouting at a few people. And 3. The sound of a Hilltop resident screaming after Daryl shoved them out of his way to get inside the trailer. The second the door opened and his worry expelled from him, Michonne and Maggie got up from their spots moving so he could get close to his wife.
Michonne motioned for Maggie to leave with her as she instantly went to Rick to talk about the guy that attacked Y/N.
Daryl instantly wrapped his arms around her feeling her grab fists full of his vest, making him want to squeeze her but he instantly pulled away when she winced. He started to check her person himself even if Siddiq does a great job with his assessment after dealing with the main problem. He even checked her bandages watching the discomfort grow on her face along with a few tears still falling.
“Are you okay? What did that bastard do to yea? Is the peanut okay?”
“What?”
“Is the baby okay?” Daryl’s voice cracked when asking that question as it only made Y/N cry even more giving him mixed signals.
Someone told him she thought and as much as that brought relief, it brought a lot of regret and pain that she didn’t tell him herself.
As she pulls from his touch, Daryl watches her reach for the table beside the bed grabbing a piece of paper before returning and giving it to him. He carefully took it into his hands looking at the picture of the peanut that was very much still there. He exhales relieved, feeling his own tears spill and the softness of her hands gently wipe them away.
“I’m sorry—-“
“No.” Daryl cut her off setting the photo in her lap so he could take her hands into his. “I…I shouldn’t have said what I said months ago…I didn’t want to push you away ever if this were to happen. Cuz let’s be honest with ourselves, we fuck like bunnies. It was bound to happen” he broke out in a smile listening to Y/N laugh to his words. He planted a kiss on her cheek as she kept that smile of hers. “We…we can die to anythin’ and that shouldn’t stop us from living.”
“Daryl…”
“Let’s go home, sunshine. Let me protect the both of yea”
Daryl helped Y/N get in the car before approaching the small group that was fixated on the woman.
“There’s a lead”
“You know I’m not gonna hesitate to kill that guy” Daryl stated and instead of receiving the usual Rick talk about no need to go far he was genuinely confused. “What”
“I’m going to help you get the son of a bitch. He does want to take us out because of Negan”
“You’re willing to be bait?”
“If Rick gets hurt, your ass is next” Michonne threats with a smile before joining Y/N in the car giving them a bit more time to discuss then joining their partners.
The day progresses into the night and Daryl found the right moment to slip away from his spot beside his wife so he could leave the house to take care of business.
As the man climbs over the wall after hiding out until night, he stumbled on his landing and when he straightened up he was face to face with Rick.
“Seriously. Just let me go”
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen”
“Like you of all people will pull the trigger” He scoffs, making the mistake of reaching for his weapon because that led to a bolt piercing him in the side of the skull.
Rick watches the body fall limp to the floor before turning to Daryl emerging from the shadows.
“There’s gonna be more like him” Rick stated. “We won’t kill them all”
“Anybody, and I fucking mean anybody…who comes near my pregnant wife the way that guy did? Will meet the same fate”
And on that note, he returned back to his spot beside Y/N who instantly rolled over to face him and bring herself close.
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