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#this is mostly word vomit but i just. god.
z0mbyez · 1 year
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thinking about. the orion hawke eliel lavellan parallels. but also how theyre both so incredibly different. orion who was the eldest, had to lead and be a good example for his siblings, regardless of his own fears and anxieties. meeting eliel, who was the youngest, had to be led and protected, and shies away from power while orion fills the gaps with bluster and jokes.
I think a lot about them meeting and orion all at once seeing bits of himself from when he first got to kirkwall. He sees all his own fears plain as day when after meeting eliel just. "does it ever get easier?" and he just has to reply "no. it doesn't." because its been 10 years and still he thinks about how he could have done things better and how he should have looked out for carver more and how he should have told his mom he loved her and-
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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months
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Dog Days are Over
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: Tom hires you as a dog walker but ends up wanting more
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“Coming.” Tom called when he heard his doorbell ring. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he made no effort to look presentable before opening the door. Once unlocked his front door, he found you standing outside. You smiled awkwardly and gave a stiff wave. He quickly fixed his hair when he realized his surprise visitor was a girl and leaned against his doorframe in an attempt to look cool.
“Hi. Tom?” You asked him.
“Hi, yeah, that’s me. And you are?”
“Y/n. Your brother hired me to help you out. He said you were in desperate need of my service.” You explained. Tom shut his eyes in embarrassment and felt himself turn bright red.
“My brother? Oh my God. Look, you’re very pretty and I’m sure you’re very good at your job-“
“Slow down. I’m a dog sitter.” You clarified. “And walker. And some might even say whisperer.”
“Oh.” He smiled in surprise. “A dog sitter? Right. I knew that.”
“You thought I was a sex worker, didn’t you?” You said with a raise of your eyebrow.
“I did.” He admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. They make a lot of money. If I had any of those skills, I’d be doing that instead. But alas, my talent lies with getting dogs to be obedient.”
“This was the strangest start to a conversation I’ve ever had.” Tom said, mostly to himself.
“You know what? Me too.” You laughed, making him relax and laugh as well.
“Why don’t I show you my dog and then we can discuss what I might need you for?” Tom offered and stepped to the side. You smiled shyly at him and walked into his house with him following behind you. You took a moment to look around his space to get to know him a little. He had photos of his family and his dog all around, as well as memorabilia from past films he was in as well. He disappeared into the other room for a second before returning with Tessa in his arms.
“So this is the woman in my life. Tessa. The only woman in my life.” He emphasized, making you look at him sympathetically.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. When did your mom pass?” You asked him as you pet Tessa.
“Oh, no. She’s fine. She sent me a recipe for cornbread this morning. I just meant I have no romantic prospects.” Tom quickly corrected.
“Oh. Okay.” You laughed awkwardly and looked to the side.
“Sorry. I feel like I’m talking so much. And that all the things I’m saying are insane and embarrassing. Are you also feeling like that?” He asked you through a nervous laugh.
“I’m not feeling anything except this coat. What shampoo do you use on her?” You asked in baby voice as you put your nose against Tessa and scratched her ears. She immediately warmed up to you in a way Tom had never seen her do before with a stranger. He smiled and looked at you fondly before realizing he actually had to answer your question.
“Oh, uh. Rain, mostly. Sometimes dish soap if she bumps into me while I’m washing dishes.” Tom answered honestly, making you crack a smile and look up at him. He smiled in relief when you found his word vomit funny.
“You hand wash your dishes? In this big ass house?” You laughed and looked around.
“I do. Is that weird? I feel like it keeps me humble. Like, if I ever started using my dishwasher, I’d become James Franco overnight.”
“I like that.” You chuckled. “I just figured you’d have someone to do that for you. You know, since you’re Spiderman and all.”
“I’m not one of those celebrities. I don’t pay people to wipe my butt and stuff. I’m just a regular guy.”
“Wow. That’s definitely the first time I’ve heard a “I’m not like other celebrities” speech.” You said sarcastically but playfully.
“Oh yeah? What are you, some kind of celebrity dog walker?” Tom humored you and put Tessa down. She immediately nuzzled up to your leg and laid down on your foot.
“You could say that.” You smiled coyly and bent down to pet Tessa.
“Oh. I was trying to tease you but I guess that’s exactly what your job is.” He laughed and bent down as well to be eye level with you.
“Yep. That’s how your brother found me. I was walking one of Ariana Grande’s thousand dogs and it bit Harry on the ankle out side of a Panera.”
“Oh shit. Tolouse?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?” You smiled in surprise.
“That’s the only one I know.” He sheepishly admitted.
“Honestly, me too. I just call “Toulouse” and make kissy sounds and they all come running. All 500 of them.”
“Kissy sounds?” He laughed in confusion.
“You know.” You smiled shyly and made kissing sounds to show Tom what you meant.
“Oh. I like that. See, this is how I call Tess.” He said and stood up. He then bent his knees a little and patted his thighs. Tessa stopped cuddling you to run to him.
“Ah, yes. The old crouch and pat. You know your stuff.” You smiled and stood up straight.
“I’m glad you approve.” He said as he blushed at the compliment, even if it was stupid.
“I do. I respond to the same call actually.” You joked.
“Good to know.” Tom laughed. You looked at each other for a minute and a silence filled the room for a little too long. It was surprisingly not awkward, just noticeable. Tom felt unusually comfortable with you and liked that Tessa did too.
“So what kind of services do you think you might need?” You asked to break the silence.
“Well, I travel a lot for work. So I need someone to look after her while I’m away. She’s a really good dog, though. She does all her business on walks which I try to do twice a day and she never bites or growls. Except at my brother. But he usually growls first.”
“She sounds great.” You laughed and gave Tessas chin a scratch.
“She is. She’s kinda my best friend.”
“That’s sweet. Have you had her a long time?”
“Since I was 16, yeah.” Tom told you.
“Aw.” You pouted. “She grew up with you.”
“Yeah. She did. Though neither of us got much bigger than we were when we first met.” Tom tried to joke.
“You’re the same size you were at 16?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Height wise, unfortunately yes. But fortunately I grew in other places since being 16, if you know what I mean.” Tom replied, immediately regretting it. You raised both eyebrows at him this time and looked at Tessa to see if she heard that too.
“Oh. Cool.” You laughed awkwardly.
“I wish I didn’t say that.” He admitted.
“I wish that too.” You nodded before an awkward silence fell. you stared at each other for a moment before Tom changed the subject.
“Let me show you around.” He offered and put his hand on your back to lead you around the house. He brought you into all the rooms and ended the tour in his pantry.
“And this is where I keep her treats and food. And her heart worm medication but that’s just a once a month pill.”
“Oh, sick. I’ve eaten a few of these. They look exactly like my gummy vitamins.” You nodded and tapped the box of medication.
“Do they work?” He genuinely wondered.
“Well, I’ve never had heart worm.” You shrugged.
“Wow. At least now I know they really work.”
“So is it just you that lives here?” You wondered and looked around again.
“My best friend Harrison lives here too. And my brothers occasionally stay over.”
“These guys?” You asked and pointed to a nearby framed picture.
“Yeah. That’s my family.” He smiled proudly.
“Woah. That’s a lot of boys. Bless your moms heart.” You chuckled and touched the picture.
“Yeah. She’s a saint for putting up with all of us. We did not make it easy.”
“You’re definitely the cutest.” You said without taking your eyes off the picture.
“Oh. Why, thank you.” Tom smiled in surprise and touched his cheek to his shoulder.
“I was talking to Tessa.”
“Oh.” His smile fell.
“I’m just teasing. I was talking about you.” You patted his shoulder before moving past him. Tom chuckled a little and touched his shoulder where your hand had been before going after you.
“So does anyone else occasionally stay over?” You asked, wanting to circle back to the “no romantic prospects” conversation.
“No. No one.”
“Hm.” You nodded and turned your head away from him to smile at the answer. No one staying over confirmed no girlfriend.
“What about at your house?” He asked you, wondering the same things you were wondering.
“I live in a flat above a bakery. So other than the occasional rat, no. No overnight guests.” You told him, knowing exactly why he asked.
“Oh my. Those wouldn’t be the friendly rats that can cook, right?”
“Unfortunately not. They’re the unfriendly kind that run across your floor in the middle of the night and scare the absolute shit out of you.”
“I bet you wish you had an overnight guest then. To help you fend off the rats.” Tom joked as he moved closer to you.
“Oh, absolutely. Everyone knows trapping and releasing a rat is at the very least a two man job.” You humored him. He laughed and realized he felt comfortable with you as if he had known you for years instead of just a few minutes.
“I don’t know about you, but I think this pairing has been a success. Do you think you’ll take the job?”
“I could definitely add Miss Tessa to my roster.” You nodded, making Tom first pump subtly.
“Perfect. Let me get your information then.” He smiled and handed you his phone to get your number. You gladly accepted it and typed it in, adding a dog emoji next to your name so he remembered.
“When can you start?”
“How’s right now sound?”
“That’s perfect. I’ll come and show you my usually routes.” Tom said and brought you over to where he kept Tessa’s many leashes.
“So how long have you been walking dogs?” Tom asked once you were stroking down the sidewalk together with Tessa pulling you.
“Five years. I started doing it during college for extra cash and then dropped out of college because I realized no matter what I got my degree in or what job was offered to me, I’d rather be with the dogs.”
“So you’re an animal person I take it?” He chuckled at your explanation.
“Big time.” You nodded. “But not enough to be a vet or a zoologist. Dog walker was the perfect solution for me.”
“You seem really good at it.“ Tom tried to compliment you.
“It’s really not that hard.” You pointed out, making him shut his eyes in embarrassment.
“Yeah. It felt like a stupid compliment as soon as I said it.” He admitted. You laughed and squeezed his arm, making him relax and stop feeling embarrassed.
“It’s okay.” You laughed. “You tried. It’s the effort that matters the most with girls. Trust me.”
“Oh really? Not the execution?”
“That’s important too. But I guess for me personally, I just want to know you’re trying. I don’t care if it comes out weird.”
“That’s good to know. I always come out weird.” Tom replied, then instantly felt regret.
“I didn’t mean it like-“
“I figured.” You laughed again and looked at him.
“We need to change the subject. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”
“Hm, that’s a good question. Maybe the time that someone told me once that they always felt listened to when they talked to me. And that resonated more than anytime I’d ever been called pretty.” You answered him.
“Well you probably hear that one a lot. I’d imagine it loses meaning after a while.” He said, making you smile shyly at the subtle compliment.
“It depends on who says it.” You said and looked over your shoulder at him as Tessa tugged you forward.
“Well, I think you’re beautiful.” He said as stopped walking. You stopped walking as well and turned to look at him.
“Gross.” You said, taking him by surprise.
“What?”
“Sorry. That just came out. I don’t react to compliments well.” You said and slapped your hand over your mouth.
“Oh. It’s okay.” He laughed and started walking again. You fell into a stride beside him again and relaxed when he didn’t find your reaction to the compliment too weird.
“What I meant to say was thank you.” You told him.
“Maybe I’ll be able to give you a better one once I get to know you a little better.” He replied, making you smile.
“It’s nice to have goals.” You said coyly.
“It definitely is.” He chuckled and never took his eyes off you.
“Tess, I think I may be in love.” Tom announced once you had gone back home. Tessa didn’t look up from her very busy and engaging task of licking her foot.
“I know I just met her. But come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel the chemistry.” Tom continued while Tessa kept licking her foot.
“Why are you getting so defensive? I didn’t say you had to call her mommy.“ Tom scoffed. Tessa stood up and tilted her head to the side.
“But I might.” He added with a cheeky smile. Tessa sighed and laid down on the floor.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.” He agreed while Tessa rolled over and laid on her side.
“Look, darling, I know change is scary. It’s scary for me too. But it can’t be just us forever, princess. You’ve been the only woman in my life for too long now. It’s time to add someone else.” Tom said gently as he bent down to pet Tessa. Tessa licked his hand and he sighed.
“You’re right.” He agreed. “I don’t even know how she feels. But I swear, Tess, there was a spark. I felt it. And I think she did too.”
Tom pulled out his phone and started to write to you. Tessa let out a little whine and stamped her feet.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m texting her her work schedule. You’re getting walked every day from now on.” He told Tessa. Tessa shook out her body in response.
“I know you already get walked everyday. I was making a joke about how I’m gonna make her walk you everyday so I get to see her more. Keep up.” Tom said sarcastically. Tessa whined again and Tom felt bad for sassing her.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t let her come between us.” Tom told her. Tessa laid down on the floor in response.
“What?” Tom laughed in surprise. “No. You have a dirty mind.”
Tom asked you to come over the next day for your first day or work. He spent the morning tidying up the house, then made it a little messy so you wouldn’t expect the house to be clean every time you came over. Finally, he heard the doorbell ring.
“Oh my God. It’s her. Be cool.” He warned Tessa as he smoothed his hair.
“Hi. I brought you muffins. I felt like I had to announce that immediately or else I’d be awkwardly holding this box and looking for an appropriate time to say I have muffins.” You said as soon as Tom opened the door. He smiled and felt himself relax when he realized you were just as nervous as he was.
“Aw, darling. You didn’t have to do that.” He said as he took the muffin box from you. You stepped inside and he helped you out of your coat. You felt your face heat up and he hands slid down your arms to take the coat off but didn’t see that he had a matching blush across his face.
“It was no trouble. I get them for free when the bakery messes up a batch.” You admitted.
“Oh, really? What’s wrong with these?” Tom laughed nervously and pulled out of the box.
“I didn’t ask.” You told him. You both stared at the muffin in his hand for a minute before caving.
“I’ll try it if you do.” He said.
“Okay. Deal.” You smiled and nodded your head. Tom took a bite and then handed the muffin to you. Instead of turning it around, you bit right where Tom’s mouth had just been. He took this as your first kiss and felt his face heat up.
“Not bad.” He shrugged after swallowing the muffin.
“Yeah. I guess we’ll never know.” You laughed and put the muffin back in the box.
“What bakery did you say these were from?”
“Destiny Bakery. I live in the apartment right above it.” You told him.
“I remember you mentioning that. I didn’t realize it was that bakery. I love that one. The couple that owns it has that cute little girl that’s always in the shop. Haley, I think.”
“Yep. Haley’s very sweet. I bring the dogs I walk by sometimes so she can pet them.”
“They seem like a cute family.”
“They are. They actually just had twins. They bring them around sometimes.”
“How long have you lived there?” He asked you.
“Ever since I loved to London five years ago.” You explained.
“Ah. So you’re not a native?” He smirked and folded his arms.
“Nope. But I’ve found my way around by walking all these dogs. I take it you are?”
“Southwest London.” He replied. “Born and raised.”
“That explains a lot.” You snorted.
“Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean, darling?” He said playfully and pretended to look offended.
“Don’t worry about it.” You teased back. You looked at each other for a moment and Tom felt his heart aching in his chest. He had it bad, and he wanted more.
“So I thought I’d join you on your walk today.” He said as he picked up Tessa’s leash.
“Didn’t you do that yesterday?” You chuckled.
“Yes.” He realized. “But I wanted to come again. In case you got lost.”
“If you’re available to walk her, how come you asked me to come over?” You questioned him with playful smile.
“I’m leaving for work in two days. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with her before I left.” Tom quickly came up with something.
“I see.” You laughed. “Come on. Let’s not keep the lady waiting.”
You put Tessa’s collar on and walked out Tom’s front door with him right behind you. He showed you a different route he liked to take to make it seem like there was an actual reason for him to be on the dog walk other than him just wanting to spend time with you.
“So where are you traveling to?” You asked as Tessa pulled you along.
“Atlanta for some reshoots.”
“Ooo. Fancy.”
“Do you think you could look after Tessa while I’m away? It’ll only be for a week. Yeah could stay in my house if it’s easier.” Tom asked you.
“You trust me to stay in your house? We just met yesterday.” You reminded him with a surprised laugh.
“But you know my brother and you have a friendly face. So I don’t think you’ll rob me.” Tom said as he handed you an extra key to his house.
“What if I was planning on robbing you and you just gave me a key to your house and the exact time frame you’ll be away for?” You teased him as held up the key.
“I don’t think a robber would’ve brought me muffins.” He pointed out.
“Maybe not.” You laughed shyly and returned your attention to Tessa.
“So could you do it?”
“Sure. I can spend a week with this little princess in your huge mansion.”
“It’s not that big. But thank you. You’re the best. I’m so glad you almost ran over my brother.” Tom joked.
“Me too.” You laughed. You fell into a comfortable silence as you walked beside each other. Your hand accidentally brushed against Tom’s a few times, sending sparks through the both of you each time.
“Does all the traveling you have to do make it hard to do normal things?” You asked after a beat.
“I don’t know. Define normal things.”
“You know, like, date?” You said without looking at him.
“Believe it or not, that was hard for me before I was an actor.” Tom chuckled. “Having to travel a lot can’t really take all the responsibility for me not having a girlfriend. I was born with that problem.”
“Oh, okay. I honestly only asked that because I wanted to find out if you had a girlfriend but there’s no way to ask that question without it sounding like I was hitting on you.” You explained and still never looked up at him.
“Oh. So you weren’t hitting on me?” Tom pretended to be offended.
“Not in this particular moment, no. I was when I bit the same side of the muffin, though.” You replied. Tom stopped walking about he had thought the exact same thing. You stopped walking too and he realized he may be reading too far into things.
“That was a joke, right?” He asked you.
“Duh.” You laughed, making his hope crumble away.
“So if you’re not hitting on me, why’d you want to know if I have a girlfriend?” He asked as he started walking again.
“Because I can totally picture you forgetting to tell me you have a girlfriend and her coming over to find me in your house with your dog while you’re not there to explain that I’m just the dog sitter. And then she would break up with you because she thought you were cheating and you’d get framed as a dirty cheater in the media which doesn’t seem like an accurate character assessment at all and it would be all my fault.”
“Well I appreciate the concern for the possibility of that very specific scenario happening, but it’s impossible. No girlfriend will be walking in to find you.” Tom laughed at your genuine concern for a made up situation.
“Good.” You sighed. “And me saying “good” is me hitting on you, by the way.”
“I thought so.” He laughed at the joke but felt himself blush.
“I’m glad you caught that one because that’s about as subtle as I get.”
“You’re funny.” Tom laughed. “And pretty, as we’ve previously discussed. But that wasn’t a compliment because I know you don’t like that one. It was just an observation. And this was my long winded way of asking why you never thought about acting?“
“I don’t know. It just never appealed to me. I belong here. With my people.” You said and gestured to Tessa.
“You do belong.” He agreed. “I think she really likes you. She told me.”
“She better. I’m about to be her mommy of the week.” You said and bent down to pet her.
“I wish you were my mommy of the week.” Tom whispered as he watched you.
“What’d you say?” You asked as you stood up.
“Nothing.” He lied.
You circled the block and made it back to his house in under an hour, much to Tom’s dismay. But as he unlocked his front door, he realized your time together didn’t have to end.
“Do you want to come in?” Tom offered.
“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled shyly and followed him inside. He took Tessa’s leash off and she ran off, leaving you and Tom alone.
“I’ll put the kettle on. You can put on a movie, if you’d like.” He smiled softly at you as he went into the kitchen. You gulped and went into his living room and tried to look as normal as possible as you sat on his couch. He came into the living room with two mugs of tea and sat beside you. Your knees brushed and you both noticed but didn’t say a word about it. You pressed play on When Harry Met Sally, a movie that was safe enough to make him laugh but wouldn’t require you to sit through any uncomfortable sex scenes together. Tom smirked at your choice of movies and wondered if you were trying to send him a message.
“Are you cold?” He asked and held up a blanket. You nodded and he draped the blanket over the two of you. You took that at an opportunity to scoot a little closer to him so the blanket would fully cover the both of you. You exchanged a shy smile with each other before turning back to the movie. As the movie went on, you moved closer and closer to each other.
“Can I ask you something?” You asked him as one point. Tom gulped and kept his eyes on the screen so he didn’t look as excited to answer as he felt.
“Sure.”
“Do you do this with all your dog sitters?” You asked. Tom took a long sip of his tea before turning to you.
“Yes.” He said seriously. You laughed and nudged him a little as he set his tea back down.
“So since you asked me some personal questions, I need to know a few things about you.” He said and turned to you.
“Ask away.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you.
“Really?” You laughed. “That’s your first question? You don’t want to know if I have a criminal record or anything?”
“I don’t care about that. It’s not as important.” Tom waved his hand, making you laugh again.
“No boyfriend.” You shrugged. “No criminal record either.”
“That’s good.” Tom nodded and turned back to the movie.
“Yeah. You should hope the person you have a key to your house to doesn’t have a criminal record.” You said teasingly.
“I meant the part about no boyfriend.” Tom replied without looking at you. Your jaw dropped a little but you said nothing and turned back to the movie as well. Tom snuck a glance at you and smiled to himself. You watched the rest of the movie and by the end of it, you were sitting right next to each other as you leaned into his side. He shut the TV once the movie ended just as you got a text.
“Shit. My shih tzu. I have to go walk my next client.” You sighed when you read the text.
“Oh. You have to go?” Tom asked with disappointment.
“Yeah.” You frowned. “I can’t be late. He’s a biter and very passive aggressive. The dog is kinda a bitch too.”
“How bitchy can a little dog be?” Tom chuckled and took the blanket off the two of you.
“You have no idea. You know when you’re on your period and you see a dog and it shoves its nose right into your snatch so everyone around you knows you’re on your period?”
“No.” Tom said after a long beat of silence.
“Oh, right.” You realized. “Well this dog points it out every month. Even though I’ve said nothing about the time I caught him eating a dirty tissue. And that freak knew it was used.”
“You’re right. He sounds like a bitch. I definitely don’t want to put you on his bad side. Here, I’ll walk you to the door.” Tom chuckled and got off the couch. He put his hand on your back and lead you to the door before opening it for you. You stepped outside but stood in the doorway to say goodbye to him.
“Goodnight.” Tom smiled softly as he leaned against his doorframe.
“It’s like 3 pm.” You said as you checked your phone.
“Oh, right. Good morrow, then? I don’t fucking know.”
“I like that. Good morrow, Tom.” You laughed. “Safe travels tomorrow, okay? Text me when you land.”
“I will.” He nodded. A comfortable silence settled between you as you stared into each others eyes. Tom took a chance and started to lean in, and you did the same. Before your lips could touch, Tom chickened out and stepped back.
“Well, bye!” Tom smiled and slammed the door in your face. He immediately cringed and covered his mouth with his hand. Tessa came into the room and sat and stared at Tom.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He groaned. “I can close. I just panicked, okay? She’s so pretty. What if she didn’t want to kiss me?”
Tessa laid down on the ground and rolled onto her side. Tom sighed and bent down to scratch her tummy.
“It doesn’t matter now. She’ll probably watch you this week and then get out of my life forever. There is no way I’m coming back from that.” Tom mumbled.
Two hours later, he came back from that. Your name came up on his phone and he immediately grabbed it to answer it. It was a tik tok video about a dog.
“Show this this to Tessa. It’s so her.” You had written. Tom smiled fondly at the text and let out a sigh.
“What can I say? She wants me.” He told Tessa smugly.
“She laughed. Thanks for sending it.” Tom texted you back.
“No prob. So what time should I come over tomorrow?”
“Is 10 good? I would like to see you before I leave.” He wrote back. His thumbs danced over the keyboard and he decided to add more so he didn’t sound so forward.
“To give you the run down on how the week will be.” He added. He stared at the text and decided to add even more.
“And to hit on you.”
You laughed when you read his text and decided to tease him further. You only hoped he’d get the reference.
“I’ll be there. Goodnight!!” You wrote back. He laughed at you making fun of him and felt better about not kissing you.
“It’s 5 pm.” He replied.
“I know. goodnight :)”
Tom smiled and held his phone to his chest. He liked the way things were going and couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t leaving for a week. He was getting somewhere with you and worried that leaving would stop the momentum.
“Good morning. I don’t have muffins.” You said as soon as Tom opened the door the next day.
“Good morning.” He laughed. “That’s okay. I made you some tea.”
“Oh, thanks.” You smiled shyly and accepted the mug. Tessa ran up to greet you and you knelt down to pet her.
“So she already ate and went out. She’ll probably want a walk around noon.” Tom told you.
“I can do that. I mean, I will do that. That’s my job.” You laughed nervously and glanced at the doorway. You couldn’t help but think of the missed kiss and found yourself feeling awkward around Tom.
“I should be home on Sunday morning. Think you’ll be all right here?” He asked and put a hand on your arm. You looked at his hand and let out a nervous laugh.
“Yeah. I think I’ll find your giant home very comfortable. Even if it’s ten times the size of my apartment.” You replied sarcastically to cover up how flustered you felt.
“Good. But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. You’re never a bother.” Tom assured you.
“Thanks. I will.” You smiled in return. You heard a car horn outside and Tom smiled sadly. He bent down to pet Tessa and give her a kiss goodbye.
“That’s my ride. I guess I’ll leave you guys to it.” He said and picked up his bag.
“Goodbye, Tom. I’ll see you in a week?” You said as you walked him to the door. He turned to face you in the doorway and felt the moment coming back.
“Bye.” He smiled softly. You found yourselves leaning in again but before your lips could touch, the driver honked his horn again. You jumped apart and Tom gave you an apologetic smile.
“Next time?” He asked you.
“Next time.” You agreed before slamming the door in his face to get back at him for the day before.
In the week Tom was gone, you had an ongoing conversation over text. You FaceTimed him often to let him see Tessa whenever he had breaks. Then, he started FaceTiming you even when Tessa was asleep for the night. To Tom’s surprise, you grew closer with him away. Your conversations went from being about Tessa to getting to know each other and by Saturday night, he couldn’t wait to get home to see you. He took the earliest flight Sunday morning just to see you sooner. When he opened his front door, he was disappointed when neither you or Tessa came to greet him.
“Well? Isn’t my girl gonna give me a kiss?” Tom called out. You heard this and felt your heart skip a beat. If he was going to be bold, you decided you could be too. You ran into the foyer where he was just as he was dropping his bag to the floor. You made eye contact and before he knew what was happening, you threw your arms around him and kissed him. The surprised look on his face when you pulled away made you realize you had completely misinterpreted the situation.
“You meant the dog, didn’t you?” You said as your arms slowly slid away from his neck.
“Yeah, I did.” He admitted. You gulped and stepped away from him and prayed the floor would just swallow you up so you didn’t have to live in this moment. To your surprise, Tom slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you back towards him.
“But I mean…” He trailed off and leaned in to kiss you again.
I’m dedicating this one to my dog! I miss and love you forever my sweet boy. Give your pets some love for me ❤️
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
 @officialsimppage @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison  
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
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skyahri · 18 days
Text
Soul |Ryomen Sukuna X Reader| HC
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Summary: Sukuna meets the reincarnation of the only person he's ever loved.
Warnings: Implications of sex? Female pronouns. Reincarnation. Fear and anxiety.
- - - - -
"Rin..."
It came out like word vomit before Yuuji could even process what he was saying.
You looked at him, confused. Your name wasn't Rin and you'd never met this man before. Who did he think you were?
He slapped a hand over his mouth. Sukuna had forced his way to the surface just to ramble out a name? In all these years as his vessel, he'd never done something so trivial.
Sensing the flicker of cursed energy, Gojo, Megumi, and Nobara prepared themselves. It'd been a while since Sukuna had tried anything. Some sort of pact he'd formed with Yuuji kept him mostly content, although they weren't sure what it entailed.
It happened in the blink of an eye; Sukuna had taken over and stood directly in front of you, one hand flat on your chest and the other on your face.
"Rin... I could never forget the feel of your soul."
Your heartbeat fastened. An overwhelming feeling of fear fell onto you, rendering you unable to move.
What would you be able to do anyway? He's a God, and you had no abilities outside of actually seeing the damn things.
You had no idea what he was talking about. Your name isn't Rin and you'd never had any kind of encounter with either men until just now.
Megumi tried to move forward, but Gojo stuck an arm out in front of him. Something was off about the way Sukuna was acting, and he didn't think it was threatening.
It would be best to see how this played out instead of possibly starting a war that was never meant to begin in the first place.
"What are you doing? We can't let her-"
"Hold on."
They watched as Sukuna looked you up and down, inspecting your robes, hair, and face with a certain softness. His face was still hard and his movements still confident, but there was just that feeling.
"You look so different, but thats to be expected. Are you fairing well?"
You swallowed hard. His delicate touch did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only confused you more. He was tucking your hair behind your ear, giving you some sort of smile, and yet you feared he was going to rip your heart right out of your body.
"Um..."
Really, how were you supposed to respond? What sort of answer was he expecting? What were the consequences if you were to answer incorrectly?
Were you meant to comment on how you supposedly looked different? Was it your features? Your clothes? Your haircut?
"I'm scared."
Sukuna paused. You were horrified to have answered wrong, and now you could only hope he wouldn't kill you.
But he did something unexpected; he laughed. A thick, hardy chuckle that made your blood run cold.
Was this the end? How pitiful. Slain on a random Tuesday afternoon all because you wanted to meet up with an old friend. That's not a proper death.
"A thousand years and countless reincarnations, yet you still know how to make me laugh."
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. You only had a moment to panic before a lifetime of memories filled your mind.
You remember the time before modern civilization when you relied on hunting in the woods and crops from the neighbor's farm.
You remembered your parents, siblings, friends, and other villagers. You remember your home on the outskirts of town just against the forest line.
But most importantly, you remember Sukuna.
You remember meeting him as a human, and then several years later as a curse. You faced off against him, and although you couldn't beat him in the end, you'd come close enough to earn his respect.
He stood above you, two arms crossed, one on his hip, and the other outstretched to offer you a hand up.
Who were you to refuse such a gesture from the king of curses?
He allowed you to join his temple alongside other followers of his with the condition you devoted yourself to him entirely. The offer was presented as a choice, but the alternative was death, so any reservations you had were null.
You wanted to go with him anyway, but that's beside the point.
From the very beginning of your journey with him, it was made clear to everyone that you were 'special' and not to be bothered.
This fact didn't hold up too well with some of the others, but what were they to do about it? Argue with Sukuna? Tell him they were more deserving of his attention? How pathetic.
He allowed you privileges that would only ever be known to you, like dining with him or joining him on trips. These small pleasantries became grand ones, like sharing his bed and allowing him to claim you.
Your relationship was equal from then on. You were not just a follower of his anymore. He was just as devoted to you as you are to him, and he ensured you knew it.
He'd always make sure to tell you how special you were, that he was taking his time with you and granting you pleasure. How you were his favorite, and no one else could even compare. How others had not been so lucky in the past.
He'd escort you to and from the hot springs, have humans bring you flowers and jewelry, and allow you to see the most vulnerable aspects of him.
He promised his love for you would never die, and here he is a millennia later proving true to his words.
Once the unrelenting onslaught of memories subsided, your hands met his- one still on your chest feeling your heartbeat, and the other slid partway into your hair- and all you could do was appreciate his presence.
You stared up at him. His face was different, but that intense look in his eyes was all the proof you needed that he was still the same man from all those years ago.
Tears beaded up in your eyes and quickly dripped down your cheeks. Crying had never been your thing in the past, but you didn't care to stuff the feelings down. Such a reunion was an occasion enough.
"My love," you whispered.
He leaned his forehead down to meet yours.
"My Queen."
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strwbmei · 5 months
Text
Kinktober : BONUS LEVEL.
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summary: in the midst of the crowded costume party; stelle needs you— and she needs you now.
contains: modern!au, college!au, female reader, mentioned alcohol usage, pet play sort of(?), stelle is referred to as a dog and she has a collar, transfem!stelle, stelle is taller, mentions of drugs, semi-public sex, creampie, power bottom reader, choking, unprotected sex, non-consensual creampie, stelle is a bit pathetic
pairing(s): pre-established stelle x reader
a/n: It's a bit late considering this was for Halloween, but this idea has been rotting in my brain for so long...
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NSFW below the cut !
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"Baby..." Stelle whined, looking down at you with those amber-hued puppy eyes she knew you couldn't possibly refuse. Not for long, at least. "Need you s'bad... Please?" The taller woman clung to your arm, tugging on your sleeve like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted.
After the two of you received an invitation to a quote-unquote, "small Halloween costume party" from a mutual acquaintance, you decided to go as the werewolf and little Red Riding Hood.
It was a great idea— the costumes worked well individually, but if someone saw both of you together, it'd be obvious that the two of you were a couple, though that was mostly because you were literally holding her on a leash that was attached to the collar her costume came with.
What wasn't a great idea, however, was going to the party in the first place. Within not even half an hour, the place reeked with the stench of vomit and cheap alcohol, and the second-rate Halloween decorations that were obviously only added as an afterthought were presumably torn off the walls by drunks.
Also, unlike the person who invited you two had said, the party was not small at all. The place was filled to the brim with couples and stoners; the only reason you two still stayed was because it'd be a waste to not use the costumes you already bought. They weren't really expensive, per se, but both of you were broke college students. You were going to make the most out of the $40 you spent on these costumes.
"Stelle, you can't just-" You inhaled, taking in a deep breath as you halt your words. "We're in public. I'm sorry, baby, but you can wait until we get home, hm?" You took her hands into your own, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm. The size difference was almost laughable.
Stelle heaved a dejected sigh, but you knew she hadn't given up quite yet. She was never one to be good with words— but she sure as hell was good at expressing her thoughts with her actions.
Which is probably why you can feel something hard and lengthy rubbing against your thigh as she wraps her arms protectively around your small frame. "Please. I'll make you feel so good, I promise..." She murmurs into your neck.
Well... it's not like you can just leave Stelle with a raging boner, right? Especially when you're what caused it in the first place. Right. You're just doing what any responsible girlfriend would do.
Though, you weren't aware that that included frantically unzipping her pants in god-knows-who's room as music blared from the cheap speakers downstairs.
"Wai- mmph..!" Stelle quickly put a hand over her mouth, stifling a moan as you hurriedly wrapped your lips around her cock. Though muffled, the sounds she made were more than audible.
Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her hands gripping your shoulders with a force that fluctuated between one of considerate eagerness and selfish desperation for her own pleasure— all telltale signs that she was going to cum soon, and you've grown all too familiar with them.
Though Stelle never could last long, the number of rounds she could go for was inhuman. Well, at least her ungodly amount of stamina is one thing about a werewolf that was even remotely similar to her.
As your head bobbed faster and faster in pace, her whimpers and moans grew louder and higher in pitch. With a strangled gasp, ropes of her warm semen flooded down your throat. Your mouth was pressed to her abdomen, swallowing every drop she had to offer.
"H-haah...~" The taller woman looked down at you with further aching need; cock still standing proud with a similar yearning. "Really, babe?" You sighed. A couple getting caught having sex in a party wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, and although normally people wouldn't care, it'd stain your pride.
Just as you were about to start jerking her off, she grabbed your hand by your wrist. "Wanna be inside you. Can I? I've been good..." She frowns; again, looking at you with those eyes.
First, she claimed that she'd make you feel good, only to settle for you sucking her off; second, does she really think she's been good? You wouldn't be in this situation if that were true in the first place. Liar.
However, you reckon you could give her a chance to prove herself...
Next thing you know, you're getting railed on the floor, barely able to keep yourself from falling over as Stelle rutted her hips into you. "W-wait, ah..!" You moaned. You didn't know what made Stelle so uncharacteristically... desperate, as if she were a dog in heat.
Maybe it was your costume? No, it looked good— but certainly not that good. And it wasn't revealing in the least, even the skirt was below knees length. Perhaps she was just too drunk? That's not it, either. Stelle has been drunk many times before and she's never acted like this.
Oh. The collar.
"Goddamit, Stelle...!" You huffed out in a hushed voice with all of the anger you could muster up. Everybody knows you can't ever stay mad at her, no matter what she does. Just like a cute puppy getting caught making a mess, Stelle only whines at your words; one hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds while the other kneaded at your breasts.
You pull her into a sloppy, hot kiss by her collar, the pace and strength of her thrusts unwavering. She whimpers into your mouth, swallowing all of your moans as she practically pounds you into the floor. Her cock was on the thicker side, rubbing perfectly against your walls while her tip kissed your cervix.
"Shit, so... tight...!" Stelle breaks out of your grip with little to no effort, hands needily grabbing and massaging at your tits. You tried to tell her to pull out, but you couldn't get any words out of your mouth through your moans. She mumbled a string of curses and apologies like a sinner begging for forgiveness. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum inside!"
With a choked moan, she held your hips down as you felt her warm cum fill you up. She lets out a sigh of pleasure as she pulls out of you, breathlessly pressing kisses on your inner thighs and apologizing. Though, seeing her cum leak out of you when she pressed down slightly on your stomach has her vigor returning tenfold...
Fuck it. She's cum inside of you already, what's the harm in two, maybe three more times? The night is young, after all.
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╰┈➤ taglist ; @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @yelanrambles , @the-night-owl-blr
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fatale-distraction · 4 months
Text
BG3 Companions Social Media Headcanons Part 1
I was bored at work and couldn’t stop. 🤣 I’ll make another post with Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc, and some NPCs!
~~~
Astarion - Pre-Tav, Astarion's social media is mostly thirst-traps for some kind of nefarious, Cazador-related money-making plot. They barely scoot past the TOS on lewd content. Very little real personal content, anything that isn't a thirst trap is heavily doctored lifestyle content to make it seem like he's living a much more luxurious life than he actually is.
After meeting Tav and getting rid of Cazador, he deletes all of his old accounts and opens up new ones. They're not exactly private, but he's much more careful about who he follows and who can follow him back. The posts become much more genuine. Still a lot of selfies, but they're sexy in the way of a guy just finally living his truth and being comfortable in his own skin. There's more shots of his daily life; waking up with his partner's obnoxious pets strewn across the bed, morning coffee and his current favorite book, new outfits that make him feel more himself. Tav features heavily in most of his posts, and there are probably as many pictures of them as there are of himself.
Karlach - chaos. No rhyme or reason. Lots of parkour and Jack-ass parodies. Constant flood of pictures of her stuffed animal collection. Stupid filters abound. There's several videos of her just flexing. Lumberjack videos. Seven hundred pictures of Tav, tons of selfies together. Videos of her literally sobbing over some cute stuffy she found or a dog she got to pet. "How many times can I say the fuck word before I get suspended." Memes. Memes everywhere.
Lae'zel - She follows three accounts and never posts anything, but somehow she's constantly scrolling through. What does she even do? Her profile picture is still the default. She doesn't have any profile information filled out. It just says "No." Her screen name is just Lae_zel. Every single item in her favorites is a cat video. She has One photo and its a gym selfie. All of her comments seem really mean at first, but they're all weirdly supportive things along the lines of "your teeth are sharp and your visage terrifying".
Shadowheart - total E-girl influencer vibe. Everything is #nofilter. She doesn't need filters. She's god's most perfect princess. You can't even be mad because it's not vanity its just how she Is. Ends everything with Prayer-hands-emoji hashtag Shar'sblessings or Selune'sblessings depending on where she is in that journey. Hairstyle and makeup tutorials and she makes it look so damn easy. "Dye my hair and cut my bangs with me." "Get ready with me" videos nearly every day. Every picture has a comment from Astarion that just says "oh fuck off" because even he can never hope to be as perfect as she is. Or at least that's what her forty-five thousand followers think.
Wyll - The official Blade of the Frontier social media account(s). Fencing videos and promos. "How to polish your horns for newbies" video that's been taken down twenty-seven times for lewd content even though it's literally for polishing actual horns. Accidental thirst traps because damn. Lots of disability advocacy, especially for visual impairments. Weekly Demon/Devil PSAs. Constantly featured in Karlach's vids and vice-versa. Buddy selfies. Once in a while a pic of him with his dad. Pics with Tav are rare, but when he does post them they're the sweetest pictures and he gushes about them for paragraphs. It's a little gross how gushy they are. Astarion comments with vomit emojis and Wyll just replies with an angry face emoji. The purest content. He's so wholesome. Not a swear to be seen. Lots of gentle hype videos. "You've got this. You can do this. I believe in you."
Gale - oh my god he has the most pretentious social media accounts. He's worse than Astarion. "Well, actually" videos with multiple parts because they're too long. Tea and bookshelves. Tara. So many pics of Tara. Tara napping on a book. Tara swatting a fly. Tara in the window. Tara on the kitchen counter. Tara laying in the sun. Tara doing nothing. He has one of those fancy cat terrarium backpacks. Magic tutorials. Mystra simp. Surprisingly few selfies but the ones he has are IMMACULATE. Pretentious book reviews. His only saving grace is that he is HILARIOUS. He's the only one with a reasonable about of pics with Tav as opposed to almost none or way too many, but the captions are always really sweet.
~~~
Part 2 here!
Part 3 here!
Part 4
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Text
Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Information
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A Study in Torture
TW: Blood, Gore, Torture, graphic depiction's of violence Summary: Reader was caught on a mission and has been in the clutches of the enemy for over a month...
Apprehension, Rescue, Rehabilitation
You wake up sputtering, freezing cold, and drenched in water.
“Good morning little bird. Thought you would like a bath.” Your captor stands above you, rolling you onto your back with his foot, “You are pretty filthy.” You squirm slightly, and he steps on your arm to pin you  in place.  He crouches over you, gripping your face with his hands. 
“You know how I feel about you sleeping without permission, little bird. Why’d you have to go and break that rule? Now I have to punish you.” He says sadly. He gets off of you, only to yank you up by the collar wrapped around your throat and let go. You teeter, vision swimming as your broken body tries to compensate for the change in position. 
The room you are led to is mostly bare, with just a tub of water in the center. Your heart sinks, fear pooling your belly. You’ve been here long enough to know that water is your least favorite method of punishment. When you first were brought here, the goal was to extract information from you, but now it seems more like your captor gets off on you being in pain. 
“You know how much I love water Little Bird.” He laughs, dragging you forward. 
“Kneel.” He murmurs, standing you in front of the tub.
 You drop to your knees without hesitation. 
“Aw you can learn something. I’m so proud.” The man says happily, petting your  hair. Despite yourself, you preen under the praise.
“Unfortunately, you did break rules this morning, soooo.” He grabs your hair, twisting so it's balled up in his hand, “Deep breath little bird.” He shoves your head under, digging his knee into your back to hold you in place.
 For the first minute you sit still, waiting, but as the seconds tick by with you not being allowed up, as your lungs begin to burn and scream for air, panic sets in and you try to fight your way up. 
He lets go, allowing you up. You sucks in ragged breaths, coughing and vomiting up water as your body shakes. He gives you another second before grabbing your shoulders and forcing you back down. He does this again and again and again, until you are a shivering, pathetic mess. 
He cups your cheek, running a hand through your hair. “It doesn't have to be like this little bird. All you have to do is listen to me. It’s really not that hard.” 
You shiver violently, staring at the ground, still kneeling in front of the basin. The man frowns, yanking your head up.
“Look at me when I am talking to you.” He snarls, “God, why are you so stubborn? I don’t want to do this, but you just. Won’t. Listen.” He wraps the chain attached to the collar on your neck around his hand and pulls, yanking you up. 
You let out a startled yelp, vision going black as your body screams for you to rest.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper. The man growls, yanking you toward him and slamming your face into the wall. “You will address me by Sir.” He screams at you, “Is that really so hard? It's three little letters you stupid, worthless slut.” 
You sink to the floor, sobbing. Blood runs down your face, getting in your eyes, in your nose, in your mouth. Your head throbs, your lungs burn, and your ears ring, but you can still hear him screaming at you over the sound. “Say it.” He screams, each word sending spikes of pain through your skull, “Say you are a stupid, worthless slut.” You won’t. You may have lost every scrap of dignity, may kneel at his feet like a dog, but he had not broken you so completely that you would desecrate herself like that. 
“You. Fucking. Worthless. Whore.” He snarls, foot connecting with your body with each word, “It's no wonder no one has come to save you. No one wants a disobedient bitch. You won’t tell me what I want to know, and now you won’t even listen to me. I saved you from death and this is how you repay me?” You shriek in pain as he brings his heel down on your wrist, shattering it. He kicks you again and again and again, bones crunching, skin breaking, the sheer agony of it dragging you into the blessed depths of unconsciousness. 
The video ends there, your body so bloody and broken it's almost unrecognizable. The conference room is completely silent, save for the dry heaves coming from Gaz’s direction. 
“We have their location Captain.”
LMK what you think and if you want a part 2
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katasstrophy · 1 year
Note
Bruh Nagi being buff as hell after Manshine's training 🥰🥰🥰
sammy you deadass bout to make me objectify this man on main SO BAD this has been running something of a small marathon in my head so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 pls accept my humble word vomit
cw. [n]sfw. mdni. pro player! nagi + aged-up characters. bit of body worship(?) you ride his abs. nipple play (m. receiving). subby nagi (but he's actually a switch >:) + some fluff bc he's so baby :(
note. a bit rambly oop soz it’s bc i went insane. i describe how he looks like to ME (re: hot as fuck) but i guess y'all can read it too hehe<3
1.4k words -> how could you ever hope to keep your hands to yourself when nagi's body looks like that.
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i feel like unless you have prior knowledge of the fact that nagi is a pro athlete, from a cursory glance, your first thought upon seeing him wouldn’t be “hmm i bet that dude is built like a brick house.” it doesn’t help that nagi’s basically the unofficial king of athleisure — his closet’s chockfull of loose-fitting hoodies and sweats. he barely owns anything else besides those monochrome hooded tracksuits (and sportswear for practice, i guess he’d need some of that too lol) because he claims it’s the only outfit that gives him unlimited access to just lounge about basically anywhere he pleases. it’s what he genuinely finds to be the most comfortable style for him as well. but if you’re fortunate enough to get a peak underneath the layers of baggy clothes? dear god nagi’s built like a fever dream. amen you’ll eat so good then he’s a whole ass feast. 
i’m gonna brazenly speak my truth here so don’t come for me >:( but! from what you’d consider to be “a typical footballer’s physique”, purely from that perspective, nagi’s legs are… not that impressive. his stagnant motivation has much improved ever since he committed to making a career out of soccer, but that doesn’t mean his slacker tendencies haven’t followed suit. don’t get me wrong, he still puts his all into every game so his legs are still very much capable of making your mouth water, but you won’t catch him sprinting up and down the field at full speed if he can help it. packed with lean muscle, his thighs are thick, calves well-defined with a few bold veins thinly zigzagging down the taut skin like a lightning strike on the occasion you happen to catch him after a particularly gruelling conditioning session. but compared to some of his teammates whose legs seem to be carved from iron, he’s a bit.. overshadowed.
it’s a fairly similar story with his arms. (i promise i’m not just talking shit lol i could NEVER my poor meow meow it’s gonna get so hot in a second i swear just bear with me!!!) again, it’s most definitely a drool-worthy sight. the stretch of his arms is long and sinewy, rolling with a set of generous biceps that flutter under the gentle scrap of your fingerpads and nails when he (totally intentionally) flexes the swell of muscle there. in his profession, he mostly uses his arms for balance and to create distance between himself and his opponents. buried in his private nook back home, he has a tendency to hold his phone above his head while playing mobile games — that blissfully only rarely come crashing down on his face — but his unrivalled favourite will, of course, always be enveloping you in his arms <3 
nagi’s not the most expressive person, but his subtle social cues become much easier to pick up on whenever he’s sleepy, which let’s be honest is almost always. he’s in dire need of a snuggle in those moments and not only loves, but craves being close to you physically, his face a canvas of huffy evidence of what a Big Deal this is to him if you learn to read the hidden hints (it’s a pursed, pouty frown nine times out of ten he ain’t slick lmfao). he kind of regards your presence as his “recharging station” what a cringe fail soggy loser man i adore him with my whole heart 🥹 his lanky limbs will snake around you with the security of a vine until you’re all cosy and wrapped up in each other, his hold bearing enough strength to not budge against any playful escape tactics you might attempt — at least not until he decides he’s had his fair share of quality snuggle time with you. 
nagi’s a practical man, however — the world doesn’t call him a lazy genius for nothing. for these, albeit lovely, purposes, he determined there’s absolutely no need to overexert himself by lifting weights to buff up his arms. he can get by just fine! there are definitely more jacked arms out there i’m sorry :(
but here’s the kicker. nagi’s tall. you could even say he’s huge — he’d tower over most people if he actually straightened his posture for once. so his muscle mass kind of stretches out a bit… unevenly throughout his body. he does have muscle mass though, plenty of it, actually, and he needs only to do one tiny little thing to remind you of it: lift his shirt up. 
it’s a subconscious, everyday thing for nagi to toy with the hem of his cotton tees. his fingers often grow restless if they’re just lying about, so playing with the material of his clothes is not only stupidly ready at hand but also helps to soothe the itch brimming along his fingers to do something with them. in the process, you’re rewarded with glimpses of his stomach often when he involuntarily ends up exposing the skin clinging to those hard planes. but what’s objectively worse for your sanity is when nagi comes trudging into the kitchen to ease his thirst. he never bothers with a glass from the cupboard, just swoops down to drink from the open tap, his adam’s apple bopping rhythmically as he swallows. there’s water coating his lips when he rises, a few droplets still running down his chin that he tugs on the ends of his t-shirt to lazily wipe away. it’s an innocent endeavour to him, but a sinful display for you, as it essentially shows off his entire, deliciously shaped midriff. nagi might slack off in other areas, but his core strength is insane. his torso is like a gift from the heavens, chiselled after the image of their gods and heroes. don’t even get me started on his abs.
because i cannot stress enough how perfect nagi’s abs are for grinding your sweet, drooling little cunny on :( the ridges of muscle packed together at his abdomen are firm, but twitch almost uncontrollably when you slowly drag your cunt up and down the sculpted slabs of his stomach that bump against your poor, swollen clit in a way that makes you delirious. your thighs bracket his waist as you move, his waist that is so trim and almost tiny compared to the broad stretch of his shoulders. you can feel the coarse, light hair of his happy trail graze against your bare ass, leading to his heavy, stirring cock still confined in his sweats for now as you continue to leisurely rut your pussy down his abs, leaving a slick mess behind. the hard cut of his v-line is so prominent a thin contour of shadow clings to the underside of it.
nagi wishes desperately that he could help you, that he could sink his fingers into the plush of your skin and push you down along his abdomen to accelerate your high, dictate a more intense pace for you by his hands and make you take it, but he’s too busy being a moaning, blubbering mess underneath you to take initiative. his large palm lies dormant at your waist, the other tangled in his snowy, sweaty bangs so he doesn’t miss even a blink of the intoxicating vision you present above him. he’s drunk on every salacious sound that comes tumbling from your lips, every wanton contortion of your gorgeous face as the lewd squelching of your pussy fills his ears. his defined chest is flushed red from arousal, shuddering with shaky exhales as he all but devours the sight of you — he thinks you using him for your own pleasure is so fucking hot. 
if you want to turn him into an utter wreck, whining like a bitch in heat, please please play with his nipples :( paw at his pecs all needy first, ‘n don’t be afraid to grip the flesh with the blunt of your nails. he’ll mewl about it, but you only need to shush and praise him, tell him how good he looks like this for you and he’ll behave. pinch at the pretty pink of his pebbled nipples, gently circle his areola with your tongue, sucking on the bud and nagi will lose his mind, might even cum untouched :( but that’s okay because he’s so turned on his refractory period is barely an issue, he’ll sink into your tight, sloppy walls in one go and fuck you absolutely senseless on his cock. it’s all you can do to scramble for purchase with your trembling fingers, marking up the milky expanse of his broad back and mouthing at his collarbones to stifle your near pornographic keens and cries as he mercilessly splits you open.
in conclusion nagi seishiro is built like a wet dream and i want him carnally </3
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sorchathered · 4 months
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Dream Come True
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Pairing- Bob Floyd/reader
Warnings-maybe language? It’s just straight fluff with maybe a twinge of angst.
Summary- reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore, Bob is an absolute dreamboat.
The Hard Deck is completely packed, everyone is off for the holiday weekend and it couldn’t be more overwhelming. You and Bob have hunkered down in a corner booth near the pool tables, nursing your beers while you watch the rest of the squad attempt to take on Hangman and Coyote at what is sure to be another devastating loss.
Bob comes back from the bar with more peanuts as you notice a few girls at the bar looking at him like he could be their next meal, and in true Bob fashion, he is absolutely clueless at just how hot he actually is. Just as charming as Rooster, and definitely just as handsome as Hangman; but the shy soft spoken man in front of you seems completely unaware of the looks he gets every time he steps into Penny’s bar. It’d almost be funny if you weren’t also one of the girls vying for his attention and getting absolutely nowhere.
“Goodness it sure is busy tonight, those girls couldn’t have gotten closer to me if they tried” he said, and you can’t help but throw your head back and laugh at how oblivious he was.
He quirks an eyebrow in your direction as you settle down with a deep sigh.
“You really don’t know the effect you have on people do you?” You say, mostly to yourself shaking your head with a smile, staring at your beer instead of at the bewildered WSO sitting next to you.
“Wha- Who? Me?!” Bob is beet red now, looking absolutely anywhere but at your face.
“Yes you! They were practically throwing themselves at you goofball!” Facepalming and erupting in giggles at the shock on his face.
He’s laughing with you in earnest now, but you can tell he still doesn’t quite believe you.
“Well that’s awful sweet of them darlin’ but I’ve got everything I need right here” reaching across the table and patting your hand, lingering a little longer than normal for two people who are supposedly just friends.
It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met in the academy almost a decade ago. Sure you’ve both dated other people, but it never goes anywhere. Everyone always jokes that you’ll be married with a brood of kids one day and it gets passed off with an awkward laugh and quick subject change.
One of you is going to have to have the courage to breach whatever this is; a crush, sexual tension, love? Oh God shut up brain don’t get ahead of yourself…you’re smarter than this, if he had wanted you he would have said something by now. You could come out of your skin just thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, be his girlfriend, one day be his wife…
He’s looking at you now, eyebrows furrowed and looking a little worried that maybe the heat has gotten to you after all because you’ve all but spaced out trying to fight the war you’re having internally.
“Sweets if you think any harder your head is gonna explode, what’s going on up there?”
You open your mouth to tell him everything is fine but that is definitely (unfortunately) not what comes flying out.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we got back to Top Gun, hell probably longer than that and I doubt you feel the same and oh God this is so awkward you know what just forget I ever said anything.” You blurted it out, literal word vomit. Good job genius now he probably thinks you’re nuts.
You can’t stay and look, it’s too hot in your little corner booth and you can feel the walls closing in so you jump up and whisper a half ass apology as you push out through the crowd and mercifully make it through the door.
Gasping in the sea air and trying to regulate your breathing are proving to be difficult now, because omg what the hell were you thinking? You told your colleague (yes he was more like your best friend but nevertheless) Bob Freaking Floyd, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen that you are in love with him and then ran out of the bar like Cinderella at midnight.
While your brain is spinning out of control, you barely notice the door opening behind you, and you certainly didn’t expect to startle as the person that came through the door links his fingers with yours.
It’s him, because of course it is. You knew better than to think you could just drop a bomb like that thinking he would let it go. Taking a deep breath you spin around to his kind face and stupidly perfect blue eyes.
“You done spiraling so we can actually talk about what the hell just happened?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck and for the first time in years you can’t get a read on him. Normally you can clock how he’s feeling from a mile away but this…this is something different.
“Is there any way I can get you to forget it?”
“Not a chance”
“I- fine.”
You open and close your mouth and try to get the words out but there’s only one thing your brain is screaming at you.
3 words, 8 letters. You say it to him in your head every day, when he’s sharing his snacks with you during Mav’s long lectures, when you are watching whatever sci fi show he’s currently obsessing over and his rambling commentary has you laughing at his nerdiness, when he sees a dog in public and immediately has to burst out for you to look at the puppy and you completely swoon over him because he may be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
Just say it. Life is too damn short. Especially in your line of work.
“I love you Robby. If it screws everything up between us and we can’t move on from this I get it, but I can’t keep it in anymore I-I’m sorry.” You’re staring at your feet now, starting to wish you could just teleport to another place or jump in whatever Time Machine exists in his shows to go back to before this ever happened.
But Bob? Robert Floyd, man of your dreams? He’s not phased or shaken, not one bit. He leans in, pulls your face in with both his hands and kisses you like it’s something the two of you have always done, like it should be completely obvious to you that he’s always felt this way, he was just waiting for you to solve the puzzle yourself.
Pulling away far sooner than you’d like, he has the audacity to chuckle when you try to chase his lips.
“Silly girl, it’s always been you don’t you know that? I was just waitin’ on you to decide what you wanted, now mind you I didn’t think it’d take you this long, but I’d wait forever if it meant we ended up here.”
You let out a watery laugh as more tears stream down your face, Bob quick to swipe them away with his thumb.
“Come on sweets, let me take you home and we can spend all weekend talking about what our forever should look like, because now that I’ve got you I’m not letting you go.”
And you do just that, because he really is everything you ever dreamed.
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purriteen · 3 months
Text
Ad victor spolia, chapter two
content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)
author's note: I feel like this chapter is kinda shitty since I’ve mostly written pure smut before, not to mention I haven’t written in English in a while so I’m still warming back up to the language & structure
but alright, since I've just been projectile vomiting words all day anyways y'all get two chapters at once this time mostly cause I myself couldn't wait to flesh out what happens next
word count: 3,345
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You struggled to fall asleep that night. You’d already come to the conclusion that slipping past the guards positioned along the tall metal fence or the main gate wouldn’t be possible, but at least, before you used to have the privilege of leaving the house and spending time in the garden whenever you wanted. Now you were truly trapped. Now that you needed to get out of here the most.
At first you’d enjoyed going for walks in the garden or having tea in one of the quaint greenhouses, until you discovered the one with those god awful rose bushes. The ones that reeked of your brother. You figured he didn’t tend to them himself, but that didn’t ease the disgust you felt whenever that familiar, overwhelming scent reached you. It was nauseating.
Even in his absence, everything reminded you of him, in the worst way possible. In every nook and cranny of the house there’d be a reminder that this was his home. For a moment you wondered if his signature scent had worn off on you; your shower was equipped with various settings and products, but it was always stacked with that familiar rose shampoo you could smell on him whenever he got close to you - too close for your liking -, without exceptions.
When you finally fell asleep, your face was raw and puffy from all the crying. You hadn’t even bathed or brushed your hair, or changed into one of the many pyjama sets in your wardrobe.
Then, at around seven in the morning according to your alarm clock, you awoke to the sound of keys rustling outside your door. You were relieved when you realised it wasn’t Coriolanus - he’d never make such an awkward entrance. Instead, your nanny maid stepped through the door. Eugenie. She looked even more anxious than usual. Perhaps she took pity on you - if only she knew. 
The two of you hardly spoke that early Friday morning. She’d brought something for you to eat, stacked on a silver tray. As if you needed another reminder of your complete lack of autonomy here, your own brother now wouldn’t even let you have breakfast in the kitchen anymore. At least he’d been generous enough to let you have something you could actually stand to eat, you supposed. A bowl of blueberries and grapes and a fresh loaf of bread with butter and marmalade, neatly plated next to it. 
You sat on the small couch in the corner of the room as you ate your breakfast, only managing to get small bites down. Watching Eugenie change your bedsheets and clean up after last night, you simply couldn’t think about anything else. That was enough to make your appetite vanish.
Once you were both done she gestured towards the bathroom, and you took the hint. She went in first and ran a warm bath for you, before leaving the room to give you some privacy. Finally you took a proper look at yourself for the first time since yesterday.
Your hair was a mess, but what worried you most was the prevailing handprint on the left side of your face. Three, four stripes of a faint purplish colour that was already fading to yellow in some places. You shakily inhaled, forcing yourself to keep it together. The last thing you needed was for Coriolanus to think he was getting to you, even if he was right.
Yet you still didn’t realise the extent of your injuries until you’d already sunk down into the bathtub, relatively comfortably so. You’d felt the swelling on the back of your head last night, of course, but it was almost worse now. All you wanted to do at the moment was fall back asleep, but the aching bump on the back of your skull made it impossible to rest your head anywhere without being in pain. 
A couple minutes later, Eugenie returned. This time with an ice pack in hand, which she carefully placed in your hand and guided it towards the back of your head. She flashed you an almost sorrowful, empathetic smile, before she stepped back and closed the door behind her.
You weren’t particularly fond of her, but you didn’t want to make the poor woman’s job any harder than it already was. So you made sure to thoroughly wash yourself before she got back. The sight of the dried blood from your scalp liquifying and mixing with the bathwater as you rinsed your hair made you feel nauseous. 
You wondered what dinner would be like. If he would pretend nothing happened yesterday, or perhaps dish out another beating. You still hadn’t entirely grasped everything that went down last night. Everything he had kept from you, above anything, the hatred he’d felt for you. The thought of your warm, outwardly unassuming cousin having to make such a sacrifice for you made you feel sick. Poor Tigris. 
Not to mention being reminded of your mother’s passing. You knew she’d died in childbirth, your birth, but you never thought of it as your fault until he brought it up. Grandma’am never once blamed you for the loss of her only daughter-in-law. And until that moment, neither had Coryo. Not openly, at least. You were left staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, wondering if it was truly worth it. If you were worth it.
You knew you couldn’t afford to think like that, to let him get to you. But this was all so unlike the Coryo you were used to, you’d seen this side of him before, to some extent, but never directed towards you. You wished he had just stayed away, that he would’ve left you alone after the initial shock of Grandma’am’s passing. 
As you patted yourself dry with the soft white towel always hung on the gilded heating rack, you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what you deserved. You’d dragged everyone down. You hadn’t even been able to take proper care of grandma’am the last couple days of her life, or at least, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you. 
You sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Waited a couple more minutes. Got impatient again. You decided you might as well get dressed again before Eugenie came back, but the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor was already gone. In its place a peachy slip dress and a robe, with a pair of slippers to match. You sighed and slid on the matching set.
A few minutes later, she returned just on time. This time she just had a glass of water and a small yellow-ish pill in hand. You furrowed your brows a little, looking up at her. “What’s this for?” You inquired, silently scolding yourself as you heard the annoyance in your own voice. This wasn’t her fault, it’s Coriolanus you were upset with. “It’ll help the healing, Miss.” You simply nodded in return, washing down the small capsule with a sip of water before returning the glass to her.
Concern was written all over her face as she studied you for a couple seconds, discomfort forming in your gut. “I’ll be back in four hours with lunch. Master Coriolanus asked me to inform you that his personal stylist will pay you a visit tonight at six.” Her words came out tense and rushed, and you were left with no time to react before she stepped back and locked the door again. You weren’t sure why she was so out of it, or if you even wanted to know.
You were familiar with Coriolanus’ personal stylist. She’d been the one to prepare you for any of those important public appearances where your attendance was actually needed. Rumina, you believe her name was. She was not the type of person you’d expected to find working such a job - she was always well dressed, but always in a timeless, classic fashion rather than the bold, colourful looks that were all the rage this year. 
You supposed that might’ve been why your brother hired her in the first place. Beyond just that, she appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, whereas most stylists were much younger. The reason for that on the other hand, you couldn’t quite grasp. But despite her elegant exterior, you couldn’t stand her personality. She wouldn’t shut up about how delighted she was that somebody was finally ‘stepping up’ to truly restore Panem to its ‘former glory’. 
Truthfully you’d given up on politics long ago - you’d never been among the pick of the litter back at the Academy, largely thanks to being so caught up with caring for Grandma’am. Not to mention the way your last name seemed to precede you every time you entered a classroom - it was clear you had big shoes to fill, after your big brother’s academic achievements - which only drove you further away. So it was clear that wasn’t the right path for you. But at least, before Coriolanus’ presidency, you’d actually thought you might one day have a career of your own, something worth dedicating your life to. You just needed to heal and learn how to stand on your own two feet. 
Until he’d robbed you of that opportunity entirely. You didn’t even truly understand why, how it in any way actually served him. He had every reason to lock up Tigris, if he was simply worried about his own family turning on him. You’d never stood up to him in that sense before, or tried to distance yourself. He’d done a great job at that himself. If he genuinely believed you were so frail, he could’ve just left you in that penthouse to let you wither away in peace. He didn’t need to keep you so close to him.
Despite feeling about as rejuvenated as you could get under these circumstances after that bath, you felt a wave of drowsiness hit you. You laid back on the newly made bed, hoping to just fall back asleep. Instead you laid awake for nearly half an hour, staring at the canopy ceiling. Eventually you’d had enough.
You got up and walked over to your dresser, quickly pulling open your underwear drawer. You doubted that it was actually hidden, but you’d kept some old memorabilia from your childhood stashed in the shoe box at the very back of the drawer. Pictures of you and Grandma’am. Of all four of you who survived. Even a couple pictures of Coryo and your mom and dad together before you were born. 
There was a particular picture of them you just couldn’t stand. As far as you knew Coryo didn’t even remember the photograph’s existence. Mrs. Snow was sat next to your father, who stood up straight right by her side, with their newborn son in her arms. His gloved hand was steadily placed on her shoulder, but his face was about as devoid of any emotion as hers was of happiness. He had Coriolanus’ eyes - a pale shade of blue, cold and unforgiving. 
Your mother on the other hand, looked afraid, exhausted and tense. No amount of makeup was enough to hide the dark circles under her wide eyes. You’d always admired her beauty, and although you never had the chance to know her, you felt a sense of pride in the resemblance the two of you bore. You had her eyes, her smile, her lips. Even her hair, although hers was wavier than yours. Coriolanus always recalled her as a warm, loving mother, and you didn’t doubt that, but this picture always gave you the impression she had to have been wildly unprepared for the task of becoming a mom, and consequently disillusioned. Or worse.
Everyone always spoke fondly of her, of her charm and youthfulness, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were simply tiptoeing around the word naive. You didn’t have any memories of your father either, but just from the few photographs you had of him he’d always instilled a sense of fear in you. You hated how much Coriolanus was starting to resemble him. 
Finally you got to the picture of Grandma’am holding you in her arms shortly after your mother passed. She was visibly shaken up, and both you and her worn hands were bloody. You’d been told many times of how close a call it was, how the family cook was convinced you wouldn’t make it. You could only imagine how she must’ve felt in that moment, holding her two weeks premature, frail granddaughter in her arms after watching her daughter-in-law lose her life.
It didn’t take long for you to start crying, something which only got worse as you scrambled through the rest of your small collection of family photos. The family fortune had run out awfully fast during the Dark Days, so there were hardly any taken during your childhood. The few you had left were mostly school photos and ones taken at various social events. Even though you couldn’t afford your own photographer, you’d always kept the unprocessed copies and had them processed and printed whenever you had some extra money to spare. Much to Coriolanus’ dismay you’d always been sentimental, just like your cousin.
You stayed like that for almost an hour. All those photos of you smiling in your brother's arms, the ones where he posed so proudly with his baby sister, made you feel nostalgic for something you’d hardly even experienced. You couldn’t grasp that this boy, your Coryo, could’ve gone from that prideful older brother you saw in those pictures to the man he was today. You wondered if Grandma’am had felt the same way bringing up Crassus.
When you finally got up from your seat on the floor, you carefully put the stack of photographs away again, along with the pearl necklace and perfume bottle you’d kept after Grandma’am’s passing, to remind you of her. You didn’t have anything tangible left of your parents, but you had fond memories of Coriolanus letting you sleep with your mother’s powder compact when you were younger. He’d always been possessive, though - only if you were really upset would he share it with you. 
You checked the time. Almost ten o’clock. You went off to your bathroom to splash your face with some cold water, shivering as you looked up and were met with the sight of the yellowing bruise on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten. At least it was healing quickly, like Eugenie promised. After nearly exhausting yourself with tears, your throat hoarse and eyes puffy and red, you finally felt tired enough to take a nap. So you did. You nearly threw yourself back onto the soft, queen size bed and let your eyes flutter shut.
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When you woke again it was noon. This time Eugenie had gone unnoticed when she entered, as you only awoke when you heard the wheels of the food cart she wheeled in after herself awkwardly bumping into the threshold, making the porcelain inside clatter against itself. You were startled at first, but immediately calmed down when you realised it was just her. 
Soon enough lunch too had passed, and this time Eugenie stuck around to keep you company for a little while. She taught you how to knit, and you lent her your favourite book. For a moment you’d almost forgotten the gravity of the situation you were in. Until she scurried to get up, proclaiming she was late to laundry service. You glanced at the longcase clock across the room, a bit surprised to find it was already quarter past four in the evening. You had forty-five minutes until your brother’s stylist would turn up.
You spent that time trying to perfect your knitting technique, ignoring the stiffness in your hands as best as you could. You’d never excelled at crafts like Tigris did, or patience, for that matter.
Finally Rumina arrived, and you were almost relieved. She immediately started to babble on about the latest gossip, and as always, sang your brother’s praises. Though, today it was particularly unbearable, and you thought to yourself that someone working so closely with him and his image should know that it’s just that, an image. That your brother didn’t give a flying fuck about the districts, even if he had improved the living conditions of the tributes in the annual Hunger Games, and that he didn’t even really care about the Capitol either. You’d come to terms with the fact that Coriolanus was only loyal to one thing: power.
You had stayed silent as she blow dried, brushed and twisted and folded your hair up behind your head. When she was done she offered you a handheld mirror to have a look for yourself, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when you were met with a tidy french twist. Of course your brother had chosen something conservative that’d thoroughly conceal the bloody lump he’d given you.
Then she had done your makeup. This time she laid the base on thicker than usual, but you weren’t surprised Coriolanus intended to hide your bruise, too. You wondered if it was for his own conscience’s sake or for his image. But it could hardly be the latter, you doubted he would let anyone see you so soon after last night’s events. Then again, you weren’t sure he even had a conscience, either.
When you were done, you looked perfectly rejuvenated. Though to you it felt like an empty shell. Rumina eagerly guided you out into your bedroom and helped you get dressed. It seemed your brother had picked out yet another tasteless, phoney dress that you’d feel nothing like yourself in. Much like the makeup it was more glamorous than you’d expected.
The material was flowy, probably something like chiffon, but it was perfectly cinched at your waist, the sweetheart neckline and the puffy fabric at your hips flattering your figure just right. There was some sort of built in corset that stopped just below your chest. The sleeves were long and puffy much like the skirt, which stopped just above your ankles. You knew Coriolanus was always up to whatever dress code applied, and something this elegant was hardly necessary for a simple dinner. 
But what really stood out to you was the colour. It was a deep shade of burgundy; one you’d seen on Coriolanus oh so many times. You felt your jaw clench. It was bad enough that he insisted on dressing you up, like a mere doll, but this was yet another jab at your independence and individuality. Like you were just an extension of him.
Still, complaining to his own stylist would be of no use, so you decided to suck it up and let her finish dressing you. She clasped a silver necklace around your neck, a garnet pendant in the shape of an octagon hanging from it, framed by more silver. It almost seemed compulsive how your brother just had to show off his wealth every chance he got. Finally you slid on some black velvet kitten heels and had a look in the mirror. 
You looked like something out of a gothic painting. (A tragedy, if you had to guess.) That wouldn’t be too unlike your current situation. Only there wouldn’t be a handsome, brooding young mythological hero to save you. No, your ‘prince charming’ had few positive attributes beyond just that - his superficial charm -, and no intention of saving you. 
You felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as you walked down the stairs to the main floor, confusion spreading on your face as you saw one of Coriolanus’ many servants waiting for you at the bottom. He stiffly informed you that there’d been a change of plans, that he’d be escorting you to the larger dining room over in the east wing. You hadn’t even explored the house enough to know there were multiple.
When you arrived you quickly understood what the sudden change of plans was for. 
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taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse
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multi-fandomfuckboy · 4 months
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Stranger Than Fiction
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Part 25: Merry Christmas
Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)
Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 25, Part 26 (Coming Soon)...
AN: I'm alive. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I hope you guys like it! Word Count: 4,362 Warnings: alcohol, vomit
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It takes you more than 5 minutes to collect yourself enough to leave the bathroom. When you do finally leave, it feels like you're still in a fog of dream, nothing really feels real. It isn't until you’re seated in the library with Nancy, reading the same line in your textbook for the 10th time, that her question finally snaps you out of it. 
“What is that?” She asks, her eyes narrowed on the skin peaking out around the collar of your neck. She extends a hand, moving to pull the collar of your shirt away from your neck. 
“What?” you ask, instinctively pulling away, your hand moving to cover the sensitive bit of skin you know Billy had in his mouth earlier. Nancy’s eyes stay on you, her investigative brain working through something.
“Did you bump into something or…” Her eyes widen in realization. “Oh my god is that a-” Your eyes bulge in panic.
“Hush! Lower your voice!” you hiss, pressing your palm harder to your neck as if that will make the blemish disappear. You glance around the library that is mostly empty except for one or two students minding their own business. 
“Is that really a…” Nancy glances around as well, leaning in closely and mouthing the word. “Hickey?” You don’t know what to say. Is it? You didn’t think to look at yourself in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. It’s not like you’ve ever been in this situation before. You don’t think they make a handbook for this type of thing that would give you tips like ‘always check for hickeys’. Nancy must take your silence as confirmation, her surprised expression shifting into a wide grin.
“Oh my god! You have to tell me everything! I didn’t even know you were talking to anyone!” She gushes, closing the book in front of her and leaning in. You wish you could just disappear. “Who is it? It must have happened recently. Is that why your face was all red when you got here?” Your heart skips a beat, why did she have to be so observant? 
“I- uh-” you stammer, struggling to think of anything to say that isn’t the truth. You can’t tell her what happened, or who it happened with. “I can’t say.” you blurt out, lowering your eyes from her bright smile. 
“Come on!” she pleads. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, I’m just surprised you are actually talking to someone.” She explains. You feel a stab of indignation at that. Why is it so surprising? Are you so undesirable that it seems impossible someone would want to press you against a bathroom stall and-
“It’s really nothing Nance, just drop it.” You bite back, some of your frustration leaking into your voice. You keep your eyes on your textbook, buttoning your shirt up to ensure the skin is covered. She seems to take the hint, sighing but leaning back in her chair.
“Okay, you don’t have to tell me.” You’re relieved that she’s stopped pushing. “But at least let me cover it up for you. Your mom will have a cow if she sees that on your neck.” She tells you, reaching into her purse to pull out her compact.
You let her cover the mark. When she’s done she offers you her mirror to admire her handiwork. You can barely see the purple mark under the light sheen of makeup, to anyone else it would just look like a shadow. 
“Thank you Nancy.” You tell her genuinely, handing back the mirror. You try to ignore the pang of guilt you feel having to keep things from her. But it really is for the best. 
“It’s no problem.” She smiles, packing away her things. “I got a lot of practice when I was with St-” She catches herself, her smile falters and she keeps her head down. You clear your throat, not wanting her to dwell on the memory.
“Are you going to Tina’s tonight?” you ask, moving to pack up your own things. Her eyes dart to you, once again surprised.
“Yea. Are YOU going to Tina’s tonight?” she asks, her brows drawing together. You shrug, trying to look nonchalant. 
“I was thinking about it.” you tell her, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
“Alright, who are you and what have you done with my friend?” she asks, grabbing you by the shoulder and giving you a playful shake. You can’t help but chuckle. “I thought I was going to have to kidnap you to get you to go. I basically had to bribe Jonathan to get him to agree.” she explains, linking her arm with yours as you both head towards the exit. “Do you need a ride? I can get Jonathan to-”
“No, I have a ride.” you tell her, purposely leaving out the fact that it’s Steve. You don't want to make things more awkward. She glances at you out of the corner of her eye. 
“Would your ride happen to be the mystery man who was sucking on your neck earlier?” She asks, causing you to let out an embarrassing sound while shoving her away.
“Oh my god, Nancy!” you exclaim, the heat returning to your face. “It’s not like that.” you insist, giving her a glare. Nancy only smiles to herself, continuing down the hall. 
“I’m just a naturally inquisitive person, you should know this by now.” She chides you, a slight skip in her step. You have to roll your eyes. She truly was too nosy for her own good. 
“I swear that curiosity is going to get you in trouble one day.” you tell her, pulling your jacket closer around you as she opens the doors, a gust of winter air bursting in. 
“But today is not that day.” She says with a smile, offering you a wave as she rushes to Jonathan’s waiting car. “I’ll see you tonight!” She calls, climbing into the car. You wave to both of them as they pull away from the school. 
You hesitate for a moment, but it's long enough for thoughts of Billy to fill your mind. You shiver at the memory as well as the chill in the air. 
“Fuck.” you grumble, slinging your bag from your shoulder to pull out a slip of paper. You quickly scribble a note for Steve explaining that you are going to walk home and that you would see him at 8 to head to Tina’s, wedging it in the door on the driver side. 
You walk home in record time. Your stride hurried, moving quickly, your sneakers eating up the pavement. It’s still not enough to chase the thoughts of Billy from your mind. 
When you get home you busy yourself with cooking and starting on the laundry, anything to keep yourself busy. You tell your mom that you’ll be going out to a party with Steve tonight, earning a raised eyebrow and a knowing look. You don’t have the energy to scold her for her obvious thoughts about you and Steve. It’s really only gotten worse since Nancy and Jonathan officially started dating. Your mom is convinced that the two of you are just waiting a respectable amount of time before making it official. You really can't blame her for thinking that, he’s quickly become one of your closest friends and most of your time is spent together. To anyone else, it makes perfect sense. 
8 o’clock rolls around and you’ve come to the conclusion that hiding a pistol under your christmas sweater won’t work. You settle on strapping a knife to your ankle, the little voice in your head not allowing you to leave unarmed… just in case. 
Steve is in high spirits when he pulls into your driveway. He leaps out of the car to show you his obnoxiously decorated Christmas sweater. You pretend to shield your eyes from the gratuitous amounts of glittering tinsel adorning him, the light from his headlights reflecting off the multiple ornaments dangling from him. He chatters the whole way to the party. You’re thankful for the distraction, it’s harder to worry with Steve explaining how he made his sweater with the old Christmas decorations he found. 
But, it’s impossible for you not to think about the last party Steve dragged you to. It’s crazy to think that was only a few weeks ago. Your chest tightens at the memory of Nancy drunkenly accusing you of killing Barb. The pain and guilt stab at the wound in your heart, reminding you of its permanence. 
“We don’t have to go, you know?” Steve's voice jolts you from your memories. The car is parked on the street across from the already bustling party. Steve watches you, his eyes filled with concern and understanding. He offers you a small smile. “We can always rent Rudolf or something and-” 
“I’m good Steve.” You cut him off, placing your hand over his and giving it a light squeeze. He immediately turns his palm into yours, interlocking your fingers. “And I desperately need a drink.” You smile, only half joking about that. Steve returns your smile, bringing your hand to his mouth placing a quick kiss on your knuckles. Your heart leaps.
“Now that’s the Christmas spirit!” He lets go of your hand before your blush can spread. He’s always doing things like this. You know it’s just how he is, always touching, playful, flirty. You sometimes can’t help your immediate reaction though. 
The two of you climb out of the car, crossing the street. The house is filled with what seems to be the majority of the upperclassmen, upbeat Christmas music pouring from every window. Steve slings an arm across your shoulders as soon as you step inside, keeping you close to his side as he navigates to the kitchen. 
“Merry Christmas!” He yells over the noise, pressing a cold beer into your hand. He taps his can against yours before popping the top and chugging. He finishes his drink before you’ve even taken a sip immediately reaching for another. 
The two of you talk and drink, Steve finishing his drinks far faster than you. It’s impressive, he finishes three in the time it takes you to work through one. By the time he tosses away his 7th empty can it’s stopped being impressive and started being concerning. He’s still smiling and laughing, giving a lively (but tone deaf) rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’. 
Then Nancy and Jonathan arrive. Steve pretends not to notice but between drinks you notice his eyes flickering to them. His drinks start coming faster, his laughter louder, his eyes glazed with a distant look. At one point he stops completely, he’s hazy eyes drifting over the crowd until they find what they are looking for. Nancy and Jonathan stand against the far wall, tucked away from the jostling crowd, whispering to each other like they are the only two in the room. 
All the joy leeches from Steve’s face, his eyes falling to the half finished drink in his hands. You see the muscle in his jaw tick before he brings the drink to his lips, draining the remainder. 
“Hey, do you want some water or something?” You ask, setting down your own drink. His gaze turns to you, struggling to focus. 
“I’m fine.” He slurs, tossing away another empty can. He sways slightly with the motion, you quickly grasp his shoulders to steady him. 
“You don’t look fine, Steve. I think you should take a break.” You tell him firmly, keeping your hands on his shoulders. He drunkenly smiles down at you. 
“You’re so nice. Such a good friend.” he coos, swaying closer to you. “You’re the best.” he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug, lifting you off the floor. 
“Whoa!” You exclaim, your fists gripping his shirt tightly. He beams up at you, still smiling stupidly. 
“You should come to Colorado with me. We can both go! My parents won’t even care, they never do.” He says excitedly. You know he’s talking about his family’s annual ski trip. He told you that they go every year for ‘Family time’, joking that it only lasts about a day. He’s been dreading it for the past week.
“Steve come on, you’re drunk.” you say, pushing on his shoulders slightly to see if he will set you down. His arms stay firmly locked around you. Glancing around you notice a few pairs of eyes on the two of you, causing your cheeks to burn.
“I can teach you how to ski! We can build snowmen and drink hot chocolate!” He continues, spinning you around a few times causing your heart to leap in your chest. 
“Steve! Put me down!” you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you as he spins you again. He loosens his arms slightly, allowing you to slide down him until your face is level with his. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, his nose only an inch from yours. 
“I-” Steve opens his mouth again but quickly closes it, a shudder running through him violently enough you feel it. He finally lowers you all the way back to the floor, his complexion suddenly looking pale. “I think I’m gunna-” he’s cut off by a heave, his body doubling over. You jump away, grabbing his arm and hauling him to the bathroom. You get him to the toilet just in time for him to empty the contents of his stomach into the bowl.
Kneeling next to him you place a comforting hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles up and down his spine. When it feels like he’s gotten it all up, his body sags one arm on the toilet seat, his head pressed into the bend of his elbow. 
“I’m going to get you some water and then I’m going to take you home, okay?” you tell him. You only receive a grumble in response. Slipping out the door, you close it behind you. The party continues outside, chattering, dancing, drinking. 
You move through the crowd, retrieving a red plastic cup from the kitchen and filling it at the sink. You pause for a moment, you're not sure why, but when you glance around the room of gyrating teenagers that's when you see him. Billy. 
He’s across the room, his normal crowd of acolytes surrounding him. You’re not sure why you thought he wouldn’t be here, a small part of you is stung that he didn’t say something earlier. He smiles, flashing his perfect teeth as he talks to Tommy and Carol. You see the people around him laughing at whatever he’s saying. 
Like he can feel your eyes on him, he glances up. His eyes meet yours, sending a jolt through you. What happened this afternoon in the bathroom flashes through your mind with vivid clarity. You can almost feel it, his body pressed against you, his hands in your hair, his mouth… Your hand drifts to the spot on your neck where you know his mark still resides, hidden under the high neck of your sweater. His eyes track your movement, something like hunger flickering across his face. 
A girl standing next to Billy slings her arms around his neck, pressing her chest against his as she grins up at him. Billy’s gaze breaks from you, his focus turning to the girl hanging on him. He smiles at her, his hand going to her waist.
Right.
You hate the sting you feel at the sight, immediately turning back to the bathroom. You silently curse yourself for even entertaining the idea that you and Billy… You stop that thought before it can even form. 
“Is he okay?” Nancy’s voice startles you. You hadn’t noticed her standing next to Jonathan in the hallway until she had spoken. Glancing towards the closed bathroom door you know she’s worried. Jonathan places a comforting hand on her shoulder. For some reason it irritates you. 
Steve is sick, drinking himself into numbness because of them. He manages to hide it so well normally but you know it hurts him. Is hurting him. 
“He’s fine.” you say with your best approximation of a smile. “I’m just going to take him home.” you tell them. 
Nancy nods, glancing to the bathroom again then up at Jonathan.
“We could help you get him home.” she offers, Jonathan nods to confirm. 
“No, no, that’s okay.” You say. “I haven’t really been drinking so I’ll drive him in his car.” you explain. You don’t think Steve is ready to accept help from the two of them, yet. You smile sadly at Nancy. You know she wishes things were different, you do too. Maybe one day it will be, when Steve’s heart has time to heal. 
“I’ll see you around Nance.” You say, offering her a reassuring smile. She nods in understanding. “Enjoy the party. Merry Christmas guys.” You tell them, Nancy pulls you into a quick hug that you carefully return trying not to spill the water. The two of them return to the party as you break away. 
When you get back into the bathroom Steve has slumped back to sit against the wall, his head hanging between his knees. He’s pulled off his Christmas sweater and thrown it into the bathtub, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt. 
“Hey champ, you feeling alright?” You ask, walking to stand over him.
“I feel like shit.” He grumbles, leaning his head back against the wall, his eyes pinched closed. “I got vomit on my sweater.” He tells you. You can't help but chuckle at his childish tone. 
“I got you some water.” You tell him, offering him the cup. His eyes squint up at you as he takes the water, closing them again as he drinks. 
“Thanks babysitter.” He mumbles, setting the empty cup down next to him. 
“You’re welcome. Now come on, I’m taking you home.” you tell him. He doesn't protest as you grab his arm, helping him to his feet. He tells you to leave the handmade sweater despite your attempts to pick it up. Eventually you agree to abandon the monstrosity because it would be too hard to clean vomit from the tinsel. He sways, leaning heavily on you as you lead him out of the bathroom. You manage to get him to the car, helping him into the passenger seat. You swipe his keys from his pocket before buckling the seatbelt across his lap.
“At least buy me dinner first.” He manages to slur, a crooked smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes at his drunken attempt at flirtation. 
“Alright lover boy, settle down.” You tell him, earning what you assume was supposed to be a wink but looks like a facial spasm. You laugh lightly, closing the door. 
Looking back to the house you notice a lone figure standing in the shadows along the side of the house. You can see the glow of a cigarette burning in the darkness. You know it’s Billy. It’s alway him. It's like your gut has a 6th sense when it comes to knowing when he's around. Gripping the keys tightly you turn on your heel walking around the car to climb into the driver seat. Ignoring the feeling of his eyes following you.
The drive to Steves’ is uneventful. Christmas music playing softly on the radio, Steve humming drunkenly along with them. It gives you time to think. Unfortunately, you immediately think of Billy. You grit your teeth, your hands tighten around the wheel causing the leather to creek. You force yourself to take deep steadying breaths. For some reason the hole in your heart feels especially big. 
Pulling into Steves’ driveway you put the car in park, hopping out and heading to the passenger side to help Steve. He groans when you open the door, letting the cold air in. 
“Come on buddy.” you say, unbuckling him and trying to pull him from the car. Stve pulls back, resisting.
“I don wanna.” he slurs, curling away from the frozen air. You pull him harder, finally getting his legs out of the car.
“Steve, if you get out of the car, I’ll make hot chocolate.” you try to bribe him. He perks up slightly at that.
“With marshmallows?” he asks, looking up at you with the most heartbreaking puppy dog eyes you have ever seen. You note to yourself that alcohol makes his big brown eyes even more pitiful. 
“Of course with marshmallows.” you promise him. He smiles happily, finally allowing you to pull him from his seat, slinging one of his arms over your shoulders to guide him to the house. You practically drag him up the front steps, unlocking the door with his keys. There is no way you are getting him up the stairs to his room like this, You settle for the living room, helping him settle on the couch as gently as you can. His head flops to one side, mumbling something under his breath.
You head for the kitchen, filling the kettle on the stove with water and turning on the heat. You gather your hot chocolate materials and grab two mugs from the cabinet scooping nesquik powder into both. You stand at the counter, bracing your hands in front of you as you wait for the water to boil. 
You hear Steve’s shuffled footsteps coming from the living room, into the kitchen,
“I’m just working on the hot chocolate.” you say, keeping your back to him grabbing the bag of marshmallows. 
You jump slightly when you feel him at your back. His chest is nearly touching you, his arms braced on either side of your hips. Most likely to keep him from falling over but effectively trapping you against the counter. His breath tickles the back of your neck as he lowers his head to rest on your shoulder. You wonder briefly if he can see your scars sticking out from the neck of your sweater. 
Your heart leaps into your throat and you swallow past it, focusing on the bag of marshmallows clutched in your hands. You wait, unsure of how to move with him this close. If you push back even an inch your back will be pressed flush against his chest. Finally he speaks, barely a whisper.
“What did I do wrong?” His voice is thick, heavy with emotion. You see his hands shaking as they clutch at the counter. Your heart constricts. “I loved her so much. What’s wrong with me?” He asks, his voice cracking. He presses his forehead harder against your shoulder, you feel his tears soaking through your sweater, his shoulders beginning to shake.
“Oh Steve.” You say quietly, finally turning to face him. Your hip brushes against his, your lower back pressing against the counter as you look up at him, taking his face in your hands. He keeps his head bowed, his chin quivering as fresh tears well up in his eyes. You lean forward, holding his gaze, wiping away the tears racing down his cheeks. “Hey, listen to me. There is nothing wrong with you Steve.” you tell him firmly, willing him to believe you. He leans into your touch, his breathing shallow as it ghosts along the inside of your wrist. He sniffles gently, both of his hands moving to your hips gripping you tightly like you might slip away if he doesn't keep hold of you. 
“I think you’re my best friend.” He mumbles, turning his face slightly into your hand pressing a light kiss to your palm. Your heart breaks for him. You once thought Steve Harrington had a million friends and you couldn’t possibly be one of them. But here you both are, broken, damaged, scared, and together. 
“You're my best friend too.” You reply quietly, gently brushing his hair from his forehead. He holds your gaze, his brown eyes warm and kind as they watch you. You hate seeing him like this. He hides it so well but you know that this part of him is always there, in the back of his mind, whispering, doubting, telling him there is something wrong with him. Never good enough. 
One of his hands comes up to take yours, pulling it from his face down to his chest. He holds your hand there, flat against his chest where you can feel his heart beating. He watches you, like if he holds your hand there you will be able to feel the cracks in his heart. The beat is strong and steady, despite how broken it is. He leans in slightly, lowering his head to press his forehead against yours. You both stand there for a moment, in the silent kitchen, just holding each other.  
The sound of the kettle whistling breaks the two of you apart. You quickly pour the water into the mugs, mixing them, before adding the marshmallows. You ignore the slight shake in your hands. Steve doesn't seem to notice when you hand him his mug, slowly shuffling back to the living room. The two of you settle onto the couch, Steve pulls your legs over his lap, slouching down into the cushions as he blows on his coco. The two of you sit in comfortable silence sipping on the warm drinks. After a few minutes, Steve sets his drink down and lays down horizontally on the couch, his head resting on your lap. 
Without thinking you gently brush your fingers through his hair. He sighs, leaning into your touch. His breathing evens out and he’s soon asleep. You are the furthest thing from sleep. When you finish your hot chocolate, and Steve is quietly snoring into the couch cushions, you stand from the couch and put on your shoes. 
As quietly as you can, you fill a glass of water and leave it on the coffee table next to some tylenol for Steve. Then, borrowing one of Steve's large winter jackets, you bundle yourself up and step outside, making sure the door is locked using the spare key hidden under the mat. 
Taking a deep breath of the cold night air, you exhale into the darkness before heading towards the street.
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AN: Hope you guys enjoyed that! Another party ending in tears, these idiots just don't know how to have a good time.
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177 notes · View notes
luvrxbunny · 5 months
Text
hey guys i word vomited this in lemons chat so i thought u guys deserved it too
soo uhm shout out to @lemon2099 for inspiring this 😌🙏🏾
so lemmy sent me this link and i went insane
so reader is dating a churchboy and although she’s not a churchgirl she starts going w him just cus it makes him happy that’s where they meet and she’s like wwooooow what a hot preist and miggy’s just like what a beautiful girl
but the more she attends the masses, the more she lingers in his head and obviously being a priest he doesn’t let himself jerk off to her cus “thou shalt not covet another man’s…” something something blah blah— so he just gets pent up and tense and all the fun stuff to the point where he has to plan masses in a way where he is mostly standing behind objects cus he gets insanely hard everytime he sees her
and now at the same time all this is happening, reader is actually kinda getting into the whole community the church brings and during this time her and churchboy break up. so she goes to priest miggy for comfort— she goes to the confessionals and mig just can’t help himself… he jerks off while listening to her— now if it’s extra messed up she’s crying abt church boy and he feels horrible about how much it turns him on but if it’s more normal she could be talking about how she feels happier and more confident without him and mig is just turned on hearing how happy she is
then lemmy said: “when does she get bent over the altar” and i— hehe
so i think she keeps going to him and somewhere during that time she catches onto what’s really happening on the other side of the partition and she starts turning her confessions dirtier and dirtier meanwhile miggy is getting braver and braver.
so he’s starting to just wait in the confesssional with his dick out, his moans are getting louder and he’s coaxing information out of her less discreetly eventually he starts to get a frustrated with how he can’t have her so when she starts talking about this man she wants, she needs, but she can’t have he literally just gets out of his side and opens her door. she has this evil, excited smile plastered over her face and he’s like “you devil” or smthn like that and all over her like white on rice.
and the whole time he’s checking in trying to make sure he’s not taking advantage of her in some way but she’s eventually like “father just fuck me” or something like that and he loses it and bends her over that table where they bless the christ crackers and fucks her like CRAAAAZY at some point she has to be like “oh god” and he’s like “i’m your god now” or something like that hahahah
198 notes · View notes
fadingdaggerr · 1 year
Text
crystal clear
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: five times other people realized melissa was in love with you and the one time she realized it herself
warnings: mostly fluff, reader gets called a slur but it isn’t written
note: sorry i’ve been slow on updating, it’s finals week and a relative has had some a health scare :/
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ava
when ava introduced you to the other teachers in the break room, she truly wasn’t going to give them much of a glance. a new teacher here that understood all the references she throws out instead of squinting? now that was someone she could hang out, and party, with outside of work.
but ava coleman is nothing if not observant. she sees the way melissa is struggling not to stare at you, the way her blinking looked almost forced. she brushes it off. you’re hot. at least she knows melissa isn’t blind, being down a teacher when she just hired one would suck.
it wasn’t until months later that ava actually noticed just how much of melissa’s attention was specifically for you. jacob had gotten you hooked on some show, now the two of you were excitedly talking about last night’s episode. ava listened to none of the nerdy word vomit coming from the two of you, but instead watched melissa gaze at you while you spoke. the soft look in her eyes and the barely noticeable smile almost made ava laugh, but she kept quiet.
this could be fun.
jacob
movie night this week was replaced by you and jacob watching the two hour finale of your show together. just as you got your snacks and drinks spread out, as well as every throw pillow you owned, and the ones jacob brought, arranged into a makeshift mega-couch, the buzzer of your apartment went off.
you scrambled to your feet, “melissa is here!”
jacob nearly choked on a swedish fish, “melissa? melissa like schemmenti?”
“what other melissa do we both know?” you laugh as you buzz her in, “she caught up so that she would watch with us,” you say with a big smile. jacob had thought melissa wouldn’t come to this movie night, the way barbara, janine, and gregory didn’t for tonight, and ava never came to any, claiming she was ‘too fine’ for the occasion. they didn’t watch thisv show, neither did melissa, until now.
“yeah… us,” he mutters under his breath.
“what?”
“nothing!”
jacob watches you nearly bouncing when you hear the knock on the door, rushing to answer it. he hears a muffled mel! followed by hey sweetheart. no one else, except barbara, could call her mel. he tried once and got a glare that still haunts his dreams. she was so easy to reply to you with a pet name, too. usually she called everyone dude, or kid, or just plain you. but not you, no, you got sweetheart.
jacob was almost convulsing, the realization was just too good. he covered his mouth in order to not scream. melissa schemmenti, notorious hardass, had a big, fat crush on you. he squeals at the thought.
“do not tell me you looked at a spoiler jacob abernathy hill!” you shout as you walk back in.
“abernathy?” melissa laughs, stopping the second you look at her, before looking at jacob for an answer.
he stiffens, “nope. just super excited to see this all happen.”
janine
being yanked by the sleeve into her classroom like a raggedy anne doll was not what janine expected on a monday morning. jacob shut the door and turned to look at janine, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“i have got to tell you something,” jacob says with excitement practically oozing from him.
“what is it? is barbara okay?” janine asks quickly.
“no, no. barbara is fine, it’s something good. i’m not going to spoil the big surprise, i wanna see it on your face,” jacob answers, “but i’ll give you a hint.”
“oh my god, jacob. please just get to the point.”
“yes, sorry,” he clears his throat, “melissa has got one of the biggest crushes i’ve ever seen, second only to yours on grego-”
janine smacks a hand over his mouth, “uh-uh. who is it?”
“i can’t tell you!” jacob sing-songs as he rushes from her classroom.
the next week has janine practically stalking melissa around every corner. she watches her hold the door for you, shove jacob out of the way so she can get the last iced tea, roll her eyes aggressively when ava spoke, hold tacks for you as you hung up the new monthly decorations, then hold your hand as you stepped down from the from the chair.
janine saw in real time how melissa’s tough exterior dropped with you. she watched her handle you so gently, anyone would think you were made from glass, but you didn’t seem to notice. it was so normal for you to see this side of melissa, you couldn’t see that it was different. janine scurried to her classroom to happy dance quickly before calming herself, as much as janine is capable, before leaving to get the kids from the art room.
gregory
thankfully, janine’s knowledge of melissa’s feelings for you did not make front page news or into the morning announcements. janine felt it a safer choice for her and jacob if they just kept this secret to themselves, which left gregory in the dark.
gregory only heard mutters of your name and melissa’s, which gave him some sort of direction about their whisperings. he looks towards you, seeing you leaned into melissa while looking at something on her phone. totally normal. gregory continued to eat his also totally normal sandwich, boiled chicken is not weird.
it feels a little less normal after janine called melissa a bad teacher, leaving janine unprepared for the might of courtney’s troublemaking. when the kids are at recess, gregory starts towards the lounge but is stopped by voices inside your classroom. he stops to listen, suddenly intrigued.
“do you think she’s right, though? she wouldn’t just say that normally,” melissa says, her voice tense and sad.
“no, i don’t think she’s right. she got an ego trip from thinking it was a real requested transfer and it spilled over, i don’t think she meant it,” your voice is calm, soothing in a way.
“are you sure?”
you laugh softly, “of course. you’re one of the best teachers in the world. i know it, janine knows it, hell, stanley tucci knows it.” your words make melissa laugh, something she very much needed it seemed.
gregory feels the need to take just a tiny peek. he sees your arm around melissa’s shoulders, her head on your shoulder while yours rests on hers, your fingers gently playing with the loose curls in her hair. melissa looks relaxed, content even. he’d never seen her showing physical affection to anyone, except the occasional side hug to barbara. but she was leaning on you, playing with the hem of your shirt as she spoke, letting you playing with her hair.
gregory stepped away from the door and started briskly walking to the lounge. so that’s why jacob and janine were so giggly about you two.
barbara
barbara knows her friend very, very well. she saw the look she gave you the first time she met you. she also clocked every other look melissa has sent your way since. at first she thought melissa was just checking you out, but after a few weeks the heat in her gaze turned to cartoonish heart eyes bulging out of her head.
barbara was no fool, she saw how you acted with melissa. it didn’t slip her mind once that you also had feeling for the red head. she watched the dance between you two, smiling at the fact her best friend was so happy, even if she didn’t realize it. barbara keeps her smile to herself.
legendary schools was a hyperactive bull running through abbott elementary’s very delicate china shop. parents were snapping at teachers left and right, one setting off melissa’s ‘fight-or-fight’ response. jacob walks in, babbling about a commercial. he almost asks where you are so you be part of the conversation for the take-down plan, but he’s cut off by yelling in the hallway.
everyone rushes out to see the mother of one of your students in your face. barbara can see that you’re trying not to cry at the cruel words, but she also sees how you’re holding your own. you don’t yell back, only speaking when the mother takes a breath. a word barbara cannot and will not repeat strikes through the air, silencing everyone around you. your face drops immediately, looking like you’d been harshly slapped.
melissa is walking down the hall before anyone can stop her, immediately in front of you. “you got some nerve talking like that around here. what is this, 1951?” melissa barks at the parent, holding herself back from swearing at and beating the living day lights out of someone on this seemingly normal thursday afternoon.
“you have teachers in this school pushing their own shit onto our kids, and you’re defending it? you’ve got a cross around your neck!” the mother yells.
“liberation movements are part of the curriculum. i asked the kids what three topics they were most interested in and we covered those, i didn’t choose,” you try reasoning from behind melissa, she won’t let you move from your spot.
barbara heads over and speaks to the mother with a plastic smile, “i’m going to have to ask you to leave, the school day is done. i’m sure you’d prefer to re-educate your child with some ignorance at home, correct?”
ava leads the mother away and barbara focuses on you; your breathing is fast and you can’t tear your eyes from the floor, lip wobbling. melissa’s hands gently go to your shoulders, you barely nod before she’s pulling you into a hug. barbara can see that melissa is whispering to you, but she can’t make out the words, she just sees you nod. you pull away from melissa slowly before taking off to your classroom to get your stuff and leave.
barbara comes to melissa’s side, “going back to your place?” melissa nods and follows you down the hall.
she filled in barb later that you watched golden girls on the couch until you fell asleep against melissa’s shoulder. barbara watched the muted smile on melissa’s lips struggle against her efforts to conceal it. lord this woman was whipped.
melissa
melissa knew she loved you, but truthfully not to the extent in which she did. she had spent so long convincing herself she cared about you the same she cared for all her friends, that she didn’t see the love for you was different. somewhere between you bringing her lattes and her letting you use her lap as a pillow on movie nights, the lines between what was friendship and what was maddening love for you blurred.
melissa’s first hint that she had feelings for you should’ve been when she started looking for you. it was so small but when she realized she was doing it, she’d blush and force herself to look down. during meetings she watched you take notes, then watched as those notes slowly turned to doodles of flowers and fossils. you’d given her a very accurate drawing of a bumble bee after an ava-centered meeting. you’d told her it was because her name meant honeybee in greek, before walking back down to your classroom, leaving melissa with honeybees buzzing in her chest.
the day she actually realized she had full on, gross, huge feelings for you, you’d been running late. you ran into the break room with a mug already in hand, bag haphazardly over your shoulder. everyone collectively looked at you with a little bit of shock.
with a stern face you stated back, “speak now or forever keep your two cents. i’m not a fan of staring.”
immediately all eyes dropped back down, except for melissa’s. she just kept watching you move about with quick steps, pouting at the change in the normal routine. she moves to the coffee maker and pours you a cup, using the creamer you prefer from the fridge. you only responded with a relieved smile and a mouthed ‘thank you.’
she watched you hurriedly get your classroom ready for the students, a small smile across her rosy lips. “you want help or are you enjoying the crazy chicken dance?”
you huffed at her, “ha ha, schemmenti,” your fake glare dropped, “could you pass out the science quizzes? they’re on my desk.”
melissa looks over your desk as she grabbed the papers, taking note of the knickknacks and pictures. the funko pop of dorothy from golden girls makes her smile, so does the sketchbook with a bee sticker on the cover.
she passed out the quizzes, and helped you prep the whiteboard for the day. you chatted lightly, but mostly just moved around each other while music played. it was so incredibly peaceful, the ease of it made her feel this warmth in her chest.
“thank you for helping me, melissa. truly. you didn’t have to,” you say as you finish rearranging the classroom chore chart.
“it’s no problem, really… i like spending time with you,” melissa says tentatively, gauging your reaction.
any nervous energy she may have had dissipates when you smile and duck your face down. you look back up at her, shy smile on your lips, “i like spending time with you too.”
you walked with her to get the kids from drop off, standing just a little bit closer than usual.
today was different. this beautiful saturday morning with you practically pulling her around the flea market. you inspected every item on the table with equal curiosity, always showing melissa your favorite things and things you think she’d like. her smile never fades and her eyes never leave you.
as you finish having lunch under the large center tent, she sees your eyes widen with excitement.
“what? what is it?” melissa says through her final bite of a hotdog.
you grab her hand and pull her towards what she now sees as the mini petting zoo. your immediately cradling the face of a goat, baby talking it to high heaven. she walks up next to you, gently petting the top of the goats head.
“he likes you,” she says.
“only him?” you say with a laugh, watching another goat approach, now wanting the attention his friend was getting from you two.
melissa laughs to hide her shock at your words before facing you, “no, definitely not just him.”
your smile grows at her words, the way you bite your lip makes melissa feel a little faint. thankfully she gets a moment to breathe when you’re distracted by a piglet coming towards you, making you squeal in delight. in this moment, melissa was sure she loved you.
melissa stands back up after bit, going over to grab both of you a lemonade. when she walks back, the words she hears only solidify her thoughts.
an older gentleman approaches you, “you and your wife are a beautiful couple.”
his words clearly shock you, “oh,” but she sees you push it down before responding with a kind smile, “why thank you, that’s very sweet! she’s definitely the beautiful one.”
when you turned, you see melissa and immediately move towards her. she wordlessly hands you a lemonade, which you accept as well as loop your arm with hers. she’s quiet as you walk back to the car and place your purchases in the backseat.
before she can start the car, you place a hand on hers, “you okay? you’re just a little quiet.”
“yeah, sweetheart. never been better,” she says, squeezing your hand. she relishes in your tugging her arms and hugging it, stretching across the console to rest you head on her shoulder as she drives you back to her place for dinner and a movie, as always.
melissa ann schemmenti realized she was big time in love with you that day.
not sure if i love this but let me know what y’all think :)
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lottiecrabie · 6 months
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girlie brings professor!matty some cheap raspberry wine and rides him on the couch in his office
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well he Has been looking very professor🤸‍♀️
the office is hot and stuffy, air thick with cigarette smoke and pine scent. the furnace is right beside it, and it heats and heats and heats until sweat sticks you to his tartan couch.
matty speaks of art theories, gesturing and nearly knocking his whiskey glass as he does so. you listen avidly, mostly. every word is a lesson, a treasure, a puzzle to scratch and undo and complete. still, the way he pushes his glasses up his nose is distracting, and you can’t stop your gaze flicking to the buttons of his orange shirt he pops one by one, the temperature gaining ground on him.
it’s just the heat, you remind yourself. it’s something else, too.
you nod at him. you sprawl on the couch; mary janes kicked off, feet tucked under your legs, elbow resting on the back pillows. comfortable, familiar, unprofessional. you’ve been here before— made a home of it, even.
the wine rests precariously on the tartan couch, but it’s not very scary. little worse could happen to it; it’s beat-up and dirty, pulled from some vintage shop fifteen somethings years ago, and tucked oasis of many college students since.
you take a swig straight from the bottle, licking the droplets. matty’s eyes flick to your lips, pink from raspberry wine. you smirk. ‘d’you want a taste?’ you ask, knowing.
his eyes settle on the wine. ‘is it any better than the last one?’
‘marginally so.’
matty sighs, opening his palm. he takes it like a duty, like you’re forcing him, as if it’s not completely his decision. he takes the babiest sip, then winces. ‘you drink this shit?’ matty spits, a disgusted grimace frowning his features. you laugh at the sight of it, swiping back the wine from him. ‘how do you not vomit pink by the end of it?’
‘dunno,’ you start, the light set-up of a tease. ‘guess i’m just better at handling my liquor.’
matty snorts. ‘yeah, i remember the state of you after two glasses of cognac.’ you shrug, innocent.
you take a swig of the bottle. the sweet, rubbery taste washes your mouth. you grin, dropping two cold fingers on his trousers, blinking at him as you graze them. ‘do you want another taste? don’t think you really took the time to appreciate the understated flavors.’
‘flavors,’ he mocks, though still leans in, and kisses you. your hand finds his hair immediately, loving to mess with his already undone curls, rake and tug until they stick out of his head like some mad scientist. give a face to those unhinged ramblings.
you kiss hungrily, licking and biting until you’re not quite sure you remember your name. matty breathes away to whisper, ‘mmh, you’re right. it’s a bit floral.’
‘shut up,’ you pant, pulling his head down.
you climb onto his lap, pushing him back on the couch. he lets his head fall on the pillows, tilting it up in offering as you devour him. his hands weight at your waist, respectful.
you break away from him, frantically unbuttoning his shirt until you get lazy, leaving it half-falling off his torso. it reveals the one tattoo you desperately crave to see, anyway; chest ink bright and depraved.
you focus on his pants instead, unbuckling his belt with shaky fingers. ‘woah,’ matty laughs. ‘are you even ready for me?’
you stare up at him, surprised. you steal a hand from him, placing it on the burning, wet heat between your legs. ‘always.’
‘fuck,’ he mutters, rubbing at your entrance, gathering a pool of your juices, slicking your clit. you jump at the contact, low moan as you work his pants again. ‘been all wet for how long?’
‘god, ever since you started talking.’ you finally spring free his hard cock, practically salivating at it. you rise up on your knees, stroking him.
matty’s not quite done with teasing you, blocking the way as he swipes and circles your bud. ‘is that right?’ he smirks, cheeky. ‘does it always get you all needy for me?’
‘yeah,’ you pout slightly, rolling your hips onto his hand, begging for more.
‘even when i teach?’ he pouts back, mocking. you groan, your head falling on his shoulder. ‘use your words, smart girl.’
‘yes.’
‘oh, it must be so hard for you, sitting in class for hours and hours, listening to me talk, all wet and throbbing and aching for my cock.’ he speeds up his fingers. you cry in the collar of his shirt, drooling on the cotton.
‘sir, please, i need—‘
‘right, right,’ he says, finally freeing the way, moving your underwear aside as he does so. you flash a smile in glee. ‘you’ve been so good for me lately. been all patient, too. you deserve it.’ pride shines through your skin. you lower yourself on his length, gasping in relief.
you rock your hips as soon as you get used to the stretch of him, rolling and bucking until pleasure waves through you. his hands dig into your flesh, encouraging.
‘what do you do, then?’ he whispers. ‘when you get all turned on in the middle of my class?’
you mewl, thrusting faster. the words get you needier somehow. get you ready for that fatal strike of ecstasy. matty pinches the skin of your thigh, punishing like a professor.
you clench around him, understanding his demand. ‘i—‘ you start, but his cock makes any thinking quite hard. ‘jesus, i— i go to the bathroom, sometimes.’
‘to touch yourself?’
you shut your eyes, nodding. ‘just a little, just to relieve some tension. i don’t— i don’t come.’
matty’s hands fall to your ass, puppeteering your deeper, closer. you fuck hard and fast, out of breath. ‘course not,’ he teases. ‘i know how you get when you come. whole bloody building would hear you.’ you flush. ‘when, then?’
your hand holds your weight up on the pillows of the tartan couch. your thighs ache, but you remain focused, determined. ready to blow. ‘when i get home. i get my vibrator and i—‘
‘hands can’t do it, huh?’ he laughs. ‘not like me.’ as though to prove it, he sneaks two fingers to your clit, rubbing better and faster than you ever could, that callus making you see heaven. you cry, gripping the tartan couch.
‘i play back the whole lesson,’ you admit. ‘how you looked and how you sounded like and— and i think of you saying it to me, in bed. think of all the things you’ve done to me, and what you would do if you were there. fuck, it makes me come so hard.’
you feel your hips grow erratic, bucking wildly and desperately. your legs shake, exhausted, overrun with euphoria. you say his name, again and again, a worship and a plea.
‘next time, darling,’ he says. ‘come find me. don’t need to do all of that; i got a perfectly good desk in that classroom that’s semi-standing up.’ you throb around him, hit with a wave of heat at that idea. ‘oh, you like that.’
‘promise?’ you squeak, dropping your head back as you get close.
‘you don’t know how often i’ve thought of bending you over it in the middle of class, love. you don’t have to worry about my word.’
you cry out, thrusting up and down, letting yourself exist in only his office, only the shape of his hands, until your brain breaks and you snap with a scream. you throb around him, falling on his shoulder, shaking.
he shushes you gently, holding your hips up as he continues to fuck into you. ‘so good, darling. so pretty,’ he promises, stroking your hair. ‘my best girl. my perfect girl. gonna make me come so hard.’ you whine. ‘where do you want it?’
‘inside,’ you hum. ‘want you to drip out of me all the way back home.’
‘fucking— shit,’ he groans, then fucks up into you a last time, spilling.
you breathe together as he slowly softens inside of you, still linked like some strange clay sculpture he would decorticate in class. your smile slacks your mouth. ‘i’m very excited for your next lesson, sir.’
he bursts out a laugh. ‘me too.’
214 notes · View notes
halsteadlover · 1 year
Text
My Blessings
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*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.
• Requested by anon: Just sending you a request about Jay seeing your bump for the first time.
• Warnings: none, just tones of fluff.
• Word count: 1752.
• A/N: so I’m trying to update as much as I can now, I hope you’ll like this and please share, comment, reblog e like if you want, it’d mean a lot ❤️ love you all and thank you for your support.
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Pregnancy sickness was no joke.
Since you found out you were pregnant, toilet and bed had become your best friends, if you weren't in bed you were throwing up and if you weren't throwing up you were in bed resting.
You were warned the first few months would be tough but not so tiring you couldn't even do the housework or even work.
Not that you had any other choice though. Jay wouldn’'t let you touch anything even if you wanted to.
In fact, since you told him you were going to have a baby, he became super protective of you, he wouldn't let you do anything, not even cook. Not that you minded, you never told him but you loved madly that protective side of him and you felt so lucky, because you knew your baby couldn't have a better father.
You couldn't wait to see them together, to see the love of your life become a father which was one of the things he wanted most. Since the good news had arrived, you immediately noticed a change in him.
Besides the overprotectiveness, he had gotten incredibly sweeter—which you didn't even think possible since he'd always been the sweetest, most thoughtful man you'd ever met—he was much more present. He was just happier.
You couldn't believe how a little bean could make him so content, happy, joyful. He was always so smiling, his beautiful green eyes sparkled so much that they alone could light up an entire galaxy. He was so beautiful it hurt, and with each passing day you loved him more and more, which you didn't even think possible.
He always tried to give you everything he could, he was always there for you, asking if you wanted some water, if you wanted something to eat, when you were throwing up he never left you alone, not even for a second, he was next to you holding your hair and he’d stroke your back, and how angry he’d get if you threw up in the middle of the night and didn't wake him up.
Every night before going to sleep he’d caress your non-existing baby bump, talking and whispering sweet things to the bean in you womb. He usually talked about his day, how much he already loved him/her and couldn't wait to hold him or her in his arms.
He had already started buying a huge amount of toys, cradles, strollers, even though the baby was several months away and how much you enjoyed seeing him built the cradle with that joy printed on his face which made him even more irresistible.
The more you looked at him, the more you didn't know what you had done to deserve such a beautiful person by your side, how could’ve you been lucky enough to give your child the best father that any person could even think of having.
That baby wasn't even fully formed yet and already had Jay wrapped around his finger.
“It'a okay baby I'm here, everything will be alright,” Jay kept whispering comforting words to you as he held your hair with one hand and stroked your back with the other as you threw up. What better way to start the day than having your face down the toilet?
God you hated this, you couldn't wait for this phase of constant vomiting and endless exhaustion to end. It was a nightmare.
“I'm so sorry my love. I wish I could take this from you.”
You shook your head slightly. “It's not your fault,” you muttered initially “Actually yes, it's mostly your fault.”
He laughed. “I'll take all the blame.”
You stood up and feeling dizzy, you leaned on Jay, who put his arm around your hips, holding you tightly to keep you from falling.
“Baby are you alright? Do you need to lay down?” he asked, his voice worried. It broke his heart to see you sick and so weak and, above all, not being able to do anything to help you.
“No, no, I just want to brush my teeth now,” you replied “Baby you will be late for work.”
“There's no way in hell I'll leave you right now, forget it, I'll be late I don't care, Voight will understand.”
“No baby he won't,” you chuckled, knowing your boss well.
“Like I said, I don't care about anything or anyone but you, you are my priority and I want to take care of you baby,” he retorted before leaving a kiss on the top of your head and from the tone of his voice you understood there was no room for you to argue.
After brushing your teeth, Jay went into the kitchen to make you something to eat for breakfast, and while you were changing into a shirt (obviously Jay's), you noticed something that made your heart leap with joy.
Your belly was finally starting to show.
It must’ve been the pregnancy hormones, but you started crying with happiness. It was an indescribable feeling seeing your baby growing inside of you. You didn't tear your eyes away from the mirror even for a second as your hands continued to caress your baby bump, the shirt lifted.
You stood in profile, facing the mirror and God, you would never have believed that just seeing your belly grow could give you such an indescribable emotion. When had it happened? When did it grow so much? Did it just grow overnight?
You were so distracted by looking at your belly in the mirror you didn't even notice Jay had run into your bedroom, worried stiff.
“Baby what the hell? Why you didn’t answer me? You scared the shit out of me, I thought you passed out or something.”
If you weren't so up in the clouds, you would’ve teased him about his overblown concern and the way he always thought the worst.
You turned to him. “Baby look!” you exclaimed, cheering like a little girl in a candy store.
Jay's gaze dropped to your belly and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he too noticed your growing baby bump. His mouth dropped open in amazement and at the same time a huge smile formed on his face.
“Oh my god…” he sighed, not expecting to tear up at the sight of your belly growing. How could he not be moved though? His baby was in there growing, his child.
“God baby you're so fucking gorgeous,” he said before pulling you into a warm hug. He kissed you like if his life depended on it, his hands on your face. “I love you so, so, much I can't even explain it.”
“Jay….” you whispered, feeling him sniffle. You broke away from his embrace for a moment, noticing how he looked down and immediately tried to wipe away his tears. “Oh baby….”
He shook his head, but you placed your hands on his face and lifted his head, forcing him to look at you. With your thumbs, you wiped away his tears even though in the meantime you were the one who was crying.
“Don't cry please you're gonna make me cry too.”
He giggled through his tears, hugging you again before pulling away and showering you with kisses.
“I'm sorry baby I just… I just feel so lucky, so blessed to have you,” he said, then looked down at your still uncovered baby bump, “You both are my miracles. I honestly don’t what I did to deserve both of you.”
His hand began to caress your belly his eyes used on jt as you looked at him, your eyes scanning every inch of his face. Seeing him so happy filled your heart with so much joy you were almost afraid it was all just a beautiful dream.
“The mother of my children… Man, how did I get so lucky?” he marveled, but he seemed more talking to himself than you. It was as if he was trying to convince himself about what he had done in his life to deserve such happiness, but he really didn't know how to answer. Before you could say anything, he leaned in front of you, lowering himself to your belly.
He started planting kisses all over your belly, as his hands continued to caress you. Just the sight of this brought tears to his eyes and you had put a hand in front of your mouth to avoid bursting into tears like a fountain.
“Hi baby it's your dad again,” he whispered after giving a kiss on your baby bump, addressing the little bean inside you. “Hurry up and get out of here buddy, I really can’t wait to hold you… And also because I don't like seeing mommy feel so sick, I know it's not your fault but I just want her to always feel good,” he sniffed again and by then you had lost every ounce of self-control and became a total mess, “I love her so much baby and you can't understand how lucky you are to have a mom like her, and how lucky I am to have someone so wonderful and fantastic like her by my side, to spend the rest of my life with… And I love you madly too little bean, I haven't even seen you yet and you've already made me fall madly in love with you and if only you could look at me…” he chuckled “I'm a mess right now and I only saw the baby bump… I can’t even imagine what will happen when you’ll be here…”
As your hand stroked through his hair, your face was still streaked with tears and when Jay looked up at you and noticed you were crying, he stood up and placed his hands on your cheeks before wiping away your tears.
“I'm just…These damned hormones…” You let out a sob and you both laughed.
“Sorry love I didn't mean to make you cry,” he said, giving you kisses and kissing your tears away. It wasn't new to see you with tears in your eyes every time Jay spoke to the baby, so he had gotten used to it a bit even if it wasn't easy anyway, he hated that even a single tear wet your face.
“How about we go do some shopping for our baby?” Jay asked, giggling when he saw how your eyes lit up and how you stopped crying as soon as you heard the word shopping.
God what I’d do without you.
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wolfythewitch · 10 months
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do you happen to have any more thoughts on the what-ifs of odysseus?
like a continuation of the sketches of ghost Odysseus or something
Oh!! I do have a short thing I wrote, basically where I got the captions from haha
I'll put it under the line. It's mostly just word vomit because I was thinking about it too hard and couldn't properly draw it out
Tw for description of death
Here is what death feels like:
It is agony. Death makes a home in the spaces of your ribcage, winds around the walls of your chest, and roots itself into the skin on your bones. It is a memory, it is a pull, it is an emptiness that seems as vast as the sea.
Death isn't an absence, it's a remembrance.
Odysseus is dead. Or he isn't. We don't truly know when he makes the transition from living to dead, from breathing to still. One moment, his heart beat in time with the world and the gods, and then it stopped, and that was that. He will tell you otherwise, and you must believe it. After all, a corpse does not move. He is right. Odysseus is an anomaly. He isn't right.
We do not know how or when or why. The people who might have known are now long gone, sunk somewhere on the ocean floor, and the only one alive to testify thinks himself a living man. See, it isn't really important though, is it? He was alive, and now he's dead. Or perhaps he is neither, perhaps he's something much worse.
The damned man drifts at sea, and water flows through his bones and down his throat. He chokes on it. Salt clings to necrotic skin. His gaze is dull, his eyes sunken. He has them pointed on a single spot in the horizon, doggedly leaning forward as if it could propel him faster homeward. It doesn't, and he's a fool to think so, but it soothes him.
His tongue is rough and rimmed with salt. There is blood under his finger tips, so dark it looks like tar.
He prays. Silly, the gods don't listen to the dead.
An island appears from the mist. It looks too good to be true. Ah well, it's not like you have anything to lose.
Here is what death looks like:
He looks like a shade, like a monster, like a corpse. His skin is pale under his cloak, his eyes hooded in shadow, his cheek sunken. In the light, all you can see is teeth. His legs are red with blood and it's the only color to paint him. The courtyard is littered with the body of the dead, eyes open in screams that will never sound. Twelve nooses are pulled taut underneath the trees, white feet swaying in the wind.
Death walks among them, and he smiles.
Here is death:
He lives in Ithaca, nestled in its heart. He is a haunting, he is a ghost.
The king is home. This is cause for celebration. Music rings through the kingdom for seven days straight.
The queen and the prince attend the festivities. They are withdrawn but happy. The kind is nowhere to be seen, but that is to be expected. He's had a long journey.
There is talk, once a month passes by. They rarely see him, and when he makes an appearance, his hair is drawn and wild. His himation is pulled close around him. His fingers are bony and thin. He does not look well. There is talk.
The servants gossip, when the royal family do not listen. They speak of the walls, of the smell of rot that followed the damned man home. It grows too strong to stomach. They've taken to hanging mint and herbs to try and cover it up.
Water seeps through the cracks in the walls. The floors are constantly slick with water. Puddles pool in the stone.
The queen only smiles and waves away their questions. The prince is not so merciful. Any rumors are nipped at their source. There is a coldness to him. It is strangely close to fear.
The king is nowhere to be seen. Somehow, this was the most familiar.
Here is where death goes to die:
An oar, a winnowing fan, a sacrifice. He kneels and pushes the oar into the soil, whispers a prayer through cracked lips.
He does not get back up again.
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fairykazu · 4 months
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WHEN THE SUN DIVES FT. KAZUHA ! content // commitment issues, (seemingly) unrequited, open ending, fem! reader, no beta read, implied confession, situationship, wrong implications on poker (i only know the game from casino royale 2006) <(_ _)>, one kys joke at the end notes // this is a oneshot there wont be a part two. divider is made by @cafekitsune. masterlist
although, kazuha was the one who did wander into places, appreciate their beauty but couldn't commit to living in one place since there was so much to see, you were the one who couldn't commit to a person.
well, he couldn't blame that on you. he couldn't either and that's what you two bonded over. that was until kazuha caught feelings for you, he hates to admit it because the reason why isn't romantic if he wanted to tell you his real feelings towards you.
it was because of the way you complimented his work. not as if it's just an art piece but as if it was life itself. just by thinking about it, he could feel his face flush at the thought of you. he stared at his popcorn ceiling blankly. maybe, it's too early to think over his feelings for you. it's what?
three am? but this time is when you usually text him or call him. twelve am or four am, it doesn't matter. as long as he could hear your voice or feel like he's near you, physically or virtually.
he waited a little bit, waiting for your ringtone. after a while, no ringtone was ringing through his room. he rolled on his side, it's time to go back to sleep.
ding!
quickly, he rolled to the other side of the bed, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. the blue light illuminated his face, burning his eyes a little.
[notification +1: thecoolestartie has liked a video you reposted]
"i really have to turn off that notification off of tiktok." he mumbled, clicking off his phone. he deflated, degrading himself for believing the routine the both of you had.
no shit, name wouldn't have the same routine. maybe she's talking to that guy again.
he groaned as he buried his face into his pillow. he peeked at his phone again just to check the time, totally not to see you or anything.
still nothing.
unless??? he checked again just in case.
nothing.
.
oh god, what did you do to him? he dug himself into his bed, maybe this would his grave when he died out of embarrassment, while digging himself his own deathbed, his phone fell from the mattress.
it vibrated,
ding!
despite his efforts to stop himself from reaching over his bed and ignore the notification, his hand found his phone, loosing his balance when he saw the notification.
[ name <3: wanna call?]
he fell off his bed, frantically unlocking his phone. typing out words that only ended up look like a bunch of jumble mumbos.
[kazuha: yeaysh but lemt me get my headphowns] [kazuha: you got what i mean right?]
[name <3: yes dw lmao] [name <3: waiting for you (◠‿◠)]
✦ ͏͏ ⸺͏͏ dialing name <3... ⊹ ˙ .
"kazuha, hello?" you said. your voice sounds as warm as ever. kazuha wished that he could create a ball of yarn from it, giving him eternal warmth. he didn't notice that you've been calling his name for at least four times.
"kazuha?"
"yes, sorry. i was thinking about what to write for a new thing." he said, making up something to sound believable. he realized afterwards that it sounded completely like utter nonsense, complete word vomit.
he knew that you didn't believe him but regardless, you've changed the subject. "i was thinking about taking you on a date."
kazuha's eyes widened, his voice cracking, "what?" he winced at the sound of it.
you added afterwards, "y'know, a platonic one." oh, of course, you did that for a reaction bait. "the new aquarium that opened in watatsumi island." he chuckled mostly out of embarrassment,
"oh, right, of course, i'd go." he could hear you laugh, imagining the smile that always made it to his daydreams of finally being yours.
"is that all you have to tell me?" kazuha asked. although it's stupid to hold onto to something that doesn't a guaranteed ending, he couldn't help but to abandon his old ways of thinking and hope that you wanted to tell him to be more than friends.
silence filled the call, only the ambience of cars in the background from the call.
"um..." hearing you be nervous sounded out of character for you, he was confused. did he hit a nerve?
"yeah?"
silence again.
"i think i..." you trailed off. you began to mumble but kazuha couldn't hear you.
needing you to clarify, "you?"
"i think i like..."
what a cliffhanger! you trailed off again and kazuha is hoping that this one wouldn't be another reason to have a reaction bait. between you two, this game was like poker. if he's right on the dot, he's shoving all his chips in the middle.
"to make the date on the day after tomorrow."
✦ ͏͏ ⸺͏͏ [kazuha kaedehara lost to name...] [official scores: kazuha: 99 ... name: 150]
"okay." kazuha hoped that his voice didn't give away his emotions. "goodnight?"
please say goodnight back. he just wants to wallow in his pain.
"um, i want to stay on call with you, is that okay?" you asked. shit.
his heart spoke before his brain could stop it, "always. it's always okay if its you."
he heard you exhale a laugh quietly, "thank you, kazuha."
"anytime."
[bonus:]
[name: childe i need you to stop infleuncing me to confess to him at night. i dont think he even likes me like that.] [tart: trust me, he does. you should ask him out and then confess or confess in the call. thats so romantic.] [name: if this goes wrong, im blaming you.] [tart: you only have yourself to blame cuz u overthink too much LMAO] [name: KYS]
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