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#we always knew the beautiful soul he is
lvlyghost · 10 months
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Cold Nights
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Reader doesn't show up for morning training. Ghost doesn't know what to think.
Word Count: 794
Tw: fluff, angst, mentions of being sick, soldiers being scared of simon lol, ooc simon probably, he calls reader kid, i think that's it🤭
A/N: I'm sick and this came to my mind, I just want simon to take care of me okay???🥹🤧 this is super bad as usual. still hope you like it. pls remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome ✨💖
Masterlist✨
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Ghost doesn't see her at the cafeteria, nor the training room. He's disgruntled. His eyes keep drifting apart from the soldiers in front of him, waiting for the next round of endless push ups he's gonna make them go through.
Why isn't she here?
His body feels restless, pacing back and forth.
Soap doesn't say anything, just shifts his weight from one foot to another.
"Johnny," he calls him. "You're in charge."
"Lt.?" He quirks a brow, not understanding. That's so unlike him.
"Got things to do."
He storms out of the room, the walls rattle when he closes the doors.
It's a cold day. Just like the day before.
Days used to mean nothing to him.
Time.
Until she came along. Three years ago.
That woman... he sighs.
Was it something he said? Didn't they talk about it last night?
Everything was fine.
Or so he thought.
-
"We shouldn't be out here, kid." He mutters. It's freezing, he can see her trembling even beneath her hoodie. Well it was actually his. The hoodie completely swallowing her small form.
"I know, I know!" She laughs. Her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink. "I just... it was too loud inside." That he can agree on. "Is it true?" She asks a few seconds later.
Simon stills. Choosing his next words carefully.
"What?"
"What Soap said." A heartbeat. "About us."
There's a silence that falls between them.
"Those were the words of a drunk man."
"Were they?" her smile is contagious. Damn her and her beautiful soul. "Would you come with me if I asked you to?"
He stares directly at her, trying to find any sign of doubt. He's always mesmerized by her gentle nature. That's something he never knew. Perhaps that's why he was so drawn to her. Longed to be wherever she was. Breathe the same air.
"I'd say that's highly inappropriate." He states. "And that you've had too many shots of whatever poor excuse of a whiskey Johnny made you drink."
"Price called it piss water." She shooks her head. "You're changing the subject!"
Simon chuckles. He really does.
"You've got such power over me no one else could ever have, kid."
And he's doomed.
-
He's trying so hard, going through the events of the night, trying to remember. What happened? Nothing out of line was said. She seemed content when they parted ways, right after he had kissed her good night outside her room. Simon saw the way her eyes lit up with a spark he never saw before. The longing stare. Remembers vividly how she had stopped him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt pulling him down for another heated kiss.
He walks down the corridor with long strides. Hands balled into fists. He shouldn't be this mad. But that was the effect she had in him.
He tries to cool down. Ghost was scared too. What if she had changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with him? He was messing up his head at the mere thought.
He finally makes it to the room, knocking twice before her soft voice tells him he can come in.
Inside the room, all the curtains were closed, not a single ray of light made it inside apart from the lamp casting shadows around. Furrowing his brows he closes the door behind him with a low click.
"Kid?" He calls her. Immediately rolling on her side she welcomes him, red eyes, stuffy nose and looking disheveled.
"Sorry I missed training." She apologizes. Changing to a sitting position and waits for him to sit next to her.
"What's wrong?" He demands with a soft voice. She's still wearing his hoodie from last night. Rubbing her eyes she gives Simon a tired smile.
"I'm just really sick Simon." She answers, he can hear her hoarse voice now.
"Bloody hell, love." His hand goes straight to her face, caressing her cheek. "Did you go to the infirmary?" Closing her eyes, she rest her head against his hand.
"Mhm. Got some painkillers prescribed. Still feel horrible."
"Good, it'll take some time for you to feel better. You need to rest, okay?". The look he gave her leaves no room for discussion.
"Wasn't planning on leaving my bed you know?" He smiles ever so slightly. "Would you stay with me?" When he doesn't answer right away she adds: "never mind you'll catch whatever this bug is and i don't ..."
"Sweetheart," he interrupts her rambling. "Scoot over."
She looks at him wide-eyed.
"You... you don't," she stutters.
"No, I don't mind at all. If there's anything you need just tell me, copy?" She nods, staring at his blue eyes. "Told you we shouldn't have been outside last night."
"Even if it meant catching a cold, I'm glad we did, Simon."
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hotvintagepoll · 2 months
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Propaganda
Cary Grant (The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby, Charade)—just the peak of old-school Hollywood sexuality. The glam, the suits, the gentle wit, the acrobatics, those eyes that always looked like they knew exactly what movie they were in and were laughing at the joke...
Vincent Price (Laura, Leave Her to Heaven, House on Haunted Hill, The Masque of the Red Death)—svelte, stylish, horrifying, beautiful, wickedly funny, camp and gorgeous and evil. he was an art connoisseur who advocated passionately indigenous art, he was an actual literal gourmet cook, he was so liberal he got greylisted during the mccarthy era for being too rad, he's my favorite muppets guest of all time
This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Vincent Price propaganda:
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Submitted: this fancam
Submitted: this entire Tumblr page
Cary Grant propaganda:
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"My Golden Age of Hollywood professor, who was very outwardly gay himself, put it this way: Even though Grant's sexuality was kind of an open secret in Hollywood, the public couldn't know in any real way. But anybody could see that there was a queerness about him, so he was casted for roles where he physically embodies his masculinity in a non-explicit but queer way. Bringing Up Baby is famous for the scene where Grant wears a frilly robe (pictured below, but what people don't always realise is that he plays kind of an awkward nerd in that movie. He's a hot awkward scientist in a grand robe!!! Hot!!! In The Philadelphia Story, one of my famous movies of all time, he plays C. K. Dexter Haven, a rich, sarcastic, supposedly abusive guy. And yet, what we see is this laid back, dandy-ish figure, who absolutely does not feel threatened when a woman he supposedly loves (Katharine Hepburn) starts having feelings for, and hooks up with another guy (James Stewart). He lets a drunk Stewart into his office and helps him get his job back! Obviously that is the script and not the actor, but the whole film, and that scene in particular, shows him having this very queer attitude of openness toward Hepburn and Stewart, which is only amplified by the casting of Grant and his portrayal of the character. Anyway, this is not an essay arguing for The Philadelphia Story to be considered a queer film, all I will say is: he's super hot in it."
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The link to the above mentioned frilly robe scene from Bringing Up Baby: "I just went gay all of a sudden!"
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last minute cary grant propaganda: the last few paragraphs of that new vanity fair article about him and randolph scott that just came out 2 days ago on cary's birthday where he calls it "gravity collapse" and "love at first sight" and says their souls touched and and and i'm actually sharing this mostly because it makes me emotional but also because a vote for archibald is a vote for love. this is my message. apologies for sounding mildly insane.
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crypticminx · 2 months
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i saw u were taking reqs for jacob elordi x reader so what about like cute, giggly morning sex if that makes sense
i’m so down bad for this man 🙏
Yessss ofcccc! Also making this husband and dad Jacob bc I need him so bad too :((( tysm lovey ~ also I didn’t do sex just him eating u out (sex w Jacob soon heheh)
⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊。
You woke up to the feeling of budding hands caress your cheek, the softness of his hands were enough to make you doze back into your interrupted sleep. Gentle motions sent waves of comfort down your spine.
Up and down, they graciously glided until you resorted to opening your tired eyes. the sight laid before you left you irresistibly smiling while squinting as the sunlight poured its beam to light up your bedroom. Creating an abundance of bright hues.
Your husband, Jacob, pierced his eyes at you with an enchanting grin that washed over his face; highlighting the esscense of his beauty that reminded you of one of the many reasons he charmed his way into your heart.
Jacob’s hand slowly retracted away from you as you shifted your limp body into a somewhat sitting position, letting your arched back rest on the bed headboard behind you.
“Good morning,” he whispered with radiant eyes.
You let out an amused sigh, your hands rubbing the remainder of sleep that was left inside. “Mmm, what time is it?”
He glanced at the tiny clock on the night side table, “half past seven.”
You groaned in realization that you could get away with thirty more minutes of rest before enduring your daily routine. Shuffling back down to let your head rest on your silk pillow, you admitted, “it’s too early, love.”
He paused and blinked slowly for a slight minute, moving closer to allow his hand to comb through your undone hair.
“Just missed you…” he almost sounded sorry as his tone was full of remorse for not being able to spend intimate moments like this with you all the time.
You knew what he was referring to.
Jacob’s schedule with acting had been extremely busy the past few months. Leaving him to fly out for specific casting calls or meeting with certain producers who admired his talented work. You were proud of him and wanted nothing more for him to continue succeeding in the field of film, but every time he had a last minute flight to catch, your heart ached with a familiar homesick feeling.
One that wouldn’t exit your soul until you got to reunite with your husband. Having the privilege of feeling his warmth and love in physical form was enchanting.
However, you were never alone.
Your little daughter, Lilly, kept you occupied and was the best form of sweet company. The spitting image of her father with her large curious brown eyes and silky chestnut locks, she was always there to remind you of him.
The two of you would lounge around your secluded house, watching movies, making crafts to gift for daddy when he would return home and FaceTiming him whenever he had the rare moment of free time.
And of course, there was Jacob’s beloved angel of a dog, Layla, who was an adorable companion that would cuddle beside you anytime you’d relax on the sofa and played long rounds of fetch with Lily in your large backyard. It was obvious she missed her loving owner just as much as you did.
“We missed you too,” he smiled at your courteous words, leaning to kiss your soft lips, letting his tongue swirl with yours. Loving the taste of your sweet mouth no matter what time of the day.
With no hesitation, his touch starved hands glided down to your tank top, gently tugging the straps down to reveal your chest.
“Jacob!” You exclaimed, followed by a quiet laugh, completely aware your daughter was most likely still sleeping in the room beside yours.
His hands cupped perfectly around your boobs, your nipples growing hard at the smooth contact that was the palms of his hands.
“Come on, baby,” his thick brows raised with his slick charm, “you think all those pictures you sent me while I was away is better than having the real thing right in front of me?
You blushed with hot, red cheeks as he brought up all the little things you’d do for him while the distance between the two of you left him aching for you.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Oh hush you,” you playfully rolled your eyes, feeling him squeeze a tad bit tighter at your breasts.
“Mmm,” he hummed moving down to latch his mouth on one of your exposed boobs. Your nails clutching deep into his hair as his head laid on your chest. You dug deeper as his tongue circled in brisk motions. Leaving Jacob to pause for a swift moment.
“Ow,” he exaggerated in a comical tone. You ruffled his shaggy hair down to his forehead as he licked his lips. “I wasn’t done.”
“My bad,” you winked, letting a tiny yawn escape you.
“Well,” he purred, moving his body down to your stomach as he moved the sheets to go gently over his head. “I’ll just continue down here.”
“Babe,” you pleaded with pouty eyes. “I don’t wanna make too much noise.”
Jacob was just too irresistible.
He perpetually longed for your body laid in front of him. He constantly missed you at all times you were forcefully apart. Having the long awaited freedom of getting to spend a relaxing morning with you was more than a luxury to him.
“Don’t worry,” he assured you, stroking your thigh with his nimble fingertips, “our little love sleeps like an angel. She won’t hear us.”
You pretended to stall, placing a finger on your soft lips for effect. You knew the answer though and you didn’t have to think twice. You needed this—you craved this.
Giving him the look was the green light for the hungry man. He inched himself further down until he was hidden beneath the sheets and placed perfectly in between your bent thighs. The amount of small stubble he had neglected to shave gently tickled you and having no urge to fight off the feeling it provided, you couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“When’s the last time you shaved?” You snickered with amusement, hearing him groan as you lifted the sheets only to not receive a response from him, but his face diving deep into your exposed parts.
He was smooth with his actions, he got straight to business and you could barely remember him taking off your panties.
A build up of heat and tingly vibrations inside of you began to stir your sex drive into motion. Having Jacob’s tongue wither it’s way into your partially wet lips was a luxurious feeling, he knew how to let your tension go by the ways of his mouth.
Your clit was caressed and it felt loving. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t sloppy. It was perfect because he did it with love.
“Taste so good, baby,” you heard a vacant mumble in between his swirls, he always made sure to praise you. After all, you were his main source of inspiration and the very thing that kept him striving for more.
You were his wife; the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his happy life with. You were the woman who gave him the best gift of all; his daughter. With everything he ever did to your body that pleasured you to no end, he always wanted to reassure you that you were more than a heavenly angel to him.
“Keep going, honey,” you tried your best to surpass a moan from exiting you, but failed miserably. Jacob’s mouth playfully tugged around the surface of your wet inner parts, something he knew you adored and always left you with insane build up.
Warm waves flowed down to your inner core, passion from Jacob’s mouth worked its magic into always providing you with a quick release.
You breathed heavily as his tongue surfaced deep into you, feeling so stimulated it reminded you of the old days when the two of you had a free house and could be as obnoxious as you pleased.
He made you feel warm. The pressure of his suctioning lips gave you sanctuary bliss.
You craved nothing more than the simple action of cuming on his face. Watching him suck all of your juices as you’d pour out your ecstasy was more rewarding than anything else in the heat of the moment.
As you could feel yourself letting go into a haze of vibrations there was a small, frail knock at the door.
“Shit,” you heard rumble from under the sheets as you slid up with the most energy you could gather while Jacob eagerly covered you back up with your undergarments.
You slid your tank top back to cover your chest, seeing Jacob mentally cursing at the interrupted moment, but smiling because he knew who was at the door waiting to be allowed entry.
Regaining composure and trying to wipe any of the remaining stamina left in the two of you, Jacob called out, “come in.”
Your daughter slowly opened the door, looking energetic as ever as she appeared to be ready to start the day. Her movement turned quick as her face lit up like a Christmas tree upon seeing her Father. She was thrilled that he was home and raced to his opened arms as she jumped on the bed.
“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re back,” she cried out with glee as Jacob smothered her with his large arms. She still seemed so tiny in comparison to him.
“Of course, angel,” he planted a kiss on her head, smooching loudly as she nuzzled deep into his bearing chest.
She looked up at him with doe eyes, revealing how much she missed her dad, “Layla and I missed you so so much.” It made him chuckle at how much she grew to adore that dog. She was nurturing just like her beautiful mother.
Your heart melted at the scene and Jacob grinned at you with a beaming smile before he turned to Lilly again. “Oh sweetheart, I can promise you daddy missed you more.”
“And what about me?” You poked the young girl, who in response, leaped onto your lap as you kissed her cheek.
“Good morning, my love,” you showered her with affection as she flung her arms around your neck. Slowly cradling her in a soothing rhythm before she left your embrace to sit in front of you and Jacob.
“Sweetie,” Jacob gestured her attention back to him as he began to slowly dress himself, throwing on a loose throwover you placed on the laundry basket next to his side of the bed. “Why don’t you go downstairs and feed Layla and then mummy and I will be right with you, okay?”
She nodded, the loose braids she slept in swayed with her motion. “Yes daddy,” she crawled off the bed as she happily ran out of your room and into the long corridors outside.
Jacob chuckled and shook his head, finding himself so relieved to be back home with his girls. He faced you as you slowly stretched your way out of bed and shuffled yourself to where he was slowly fixing himself up. You wrapped your arms around his waist as your head laid on his back. He shifted your arms around to where you could view his ecstatic face.
“Don’t worry,” he looked down at your twinkling eyes that never stopped sparkling, “I’m not finished with you yet, angel.”
You bit your lip, “I’m looking forward to it.”
What a beautiful morning it was turning out to be at the Elordi household.
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starseneyes · 29 days
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Heart-Warmed and Teary-Eyed: Kindness Matters
I have a P.O. Box that I check once a week. Right now, I mostly use it for letter correspondence with my friend @always-coffee—a tremendous published poet and beautiful human I met by chance online.
Monday she said she mailed her latest letter. So, I stopped by the Post Office on the way home from dropping the kids at school on the off-chance it made it through USPS faster than normal.
I found no letter inside, but a flyer from the Post Office saying they were holding something for me that wouldn't fit in the box. I wondered if Ali had sent a letter that was too tall (because she has such amazing stationary). I had no idea what was about to happen.
I glimpsed the package as they pulled it from a cabinet and wondered what on earth Ali sent me. That was not a letter.
Then I saw The Golden Notebook Bookstore label and knew it was something @neil-gaiman related.
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For those who don't know (normal people who don't follow Neil on social media, for example), that is the local bookstore near Neil's home in New York. He periodically signs books for them that are sold with zero markup.
I am a fan of Neil as a writer, but also as a human. I don't follow many celebrities—a side effect of my set-kid youth—but I did follow Neil last year during the WGA Strike. Been a fan of his for ages, and Neverwhere is my favorite book.
Ali knows all this, and I just knew she had done something sneakily sweet.
I rushed home with a smile on my face, trying desperately not to set off the speed-trap on the road back. Let me tell you, driving speed limit when excited is not easy for me!
When I finally whipped into my driveway and sprinted into my house, I carefully opened the package (more excruciating slowness) and tried not to cry happy tears when I saw what was inside. Wrapped tenderly in bubble-wrap rested... a book.
What You Need to be Warm is a poem Neil wrote that features illustrations from some of the best artists in the industry. That in itself is wonderful. But the mission of this little book is what is so amazing.
See, the sale of every copy supports UNHCR—the UN Refugee Agency. This book literally helps people when you buy it.
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I have wanted to buy a copy for ages, but you all know I thrift and buy books secondhand. I didn't want to do that with this book.
I wanted to buy it outright to ensure the maximum amount of money went to support the cause. So, I have been waiting until we were a little more stable so I could buy it full-price, outright.
Thanks to Ali, I have a copy that was purchased outright (so it helps people in need) and it is signed!
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Yes, it's a signed copy with pen bleed on the opposite page, and all.
I would never do something like this for myself. You all know I am woefully practical and doing things for myself isn't second-nature. I’m working on it, but it is slow coming reprogramming a lifetime of behavior. So gifts like this... oh, they mean everything.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude that such a kind soul would do something like this for me. Thank you, Ali.
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cheonstapes · 3 months
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HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU
But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.
Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following
-🐈
miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (゚ω゚)
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*・゜゚・*:.。..。.miguel o’hara x reader.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
SMUT
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you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷
cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!
2k+ words
@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!
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you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.
who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.
every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.
but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.
walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.
he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“
“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.
miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.
he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.
“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.
sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.
of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.
the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.
he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.
“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.
he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.
“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.
“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.
he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.
“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.
“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.
“i…i love you too, migs.”
you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.
“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.
the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.
“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”
miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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-smack myass like a drum
1K notes · View notes
utahimeow · 4 months
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even death will not do us part — satoru gojo
summary — your wedding day with satoru gojo is not exactly conventional.
pairing — satoru gojo x f!reader
warnings — slightly suggestive beginning, pure fluff, established relationship
word count — 3.9k
author’s note — for satoru’s birthday ♡ i put my heart and soul and blood and sweat and tears into this and i hope u can tell. it may be the best writing i’ve ever done, so if u read it, thank u and i love u. also it’s like extremely sappy so pls keep that in mind lol
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After a seemingly endless night, tendrils of golden sunlight come crawling through the blinds. They dance over your flesh that’s dotted with soft bites from your lover, and warm it like soft kisses until your eyes peel open.
Satoru’s already awake, ocean eyes gazing at you. A wave of memories of how he touched you so ardently the night before comes washing over you. After it, a wave of heat, his lustful poetry echoing in your mind until it pools between your thighs. Finally, the heat subsides into something warm, a gentle glow which settles within your ribs.
“Good morning,” your lover rasps, voice heavy with sleep. 
You reach out to him until your hand finds his face, your fingers grazing over soft pink skin, your thumb tracing the ridge of his cheekbone. He’s slightly puffy, eyes still ever so slightly droopy, but slumber is not the only thing that simmers in them.
“Good morning,” you reply, your words hoarse yet covered in honey.
For a while, neither one of you says anything, instead basking in one another. Satoru drinks in the sight of you laying next to him, gulps and gulps and gulps it down like it’s red wine, until he’s drunk. 
“Marry me,” he says. Time stops moving and your heart stops beating momentarily. Your mouth tries to move, tries to give a response, but every word you’ve ever learned suddenly abandons your memory. 
He laughs, so obnoxiously beautiful, but within his eyes that carry a millennium of history there is only pure sincerity.
It shouldn’t surprise you this much—his question—not when Satoru had long since carved a space inside your heart, and you in his. You’d been together so long that sometimes you both forgot you weren’t married, and Satoru had a habit of casually stating things like “when I make you my wife”, because it was undisputed that he would marry you.
Still, somehow you didn’t see it coming, and not like this. Satoru Gojo was a man of grandeur–always dramatic, always making a scene, always showing off in some shape or form, whether it was you or his cursed technique. The last place you would expect him to propose was in bed at ten a.m. after a night where he made you see God himself. Although, the more you think about it, this is where he is home. Where he bears the deepest parts of his being to you and where he may shed the weight of a society that idolises him as a god. Where he can ask you to marry him as just Satoru.
“Don’t go shy on me,” he says, still amused by your disbelief. 
“I-yes. Yes, I’ll marry you,” you say, sobbing out a laugh, launching yourself into his embrace and burying your face into his bare chest. 
“What if we did it today?” he asks, his voice reverberating through you until it almost puts you back to sleep.
“Did what?” you ask.
“Got married.”
Your head shoots up, your eyes flitting rapidly over each of his nonchalant features. Once more, you don’t find a single hint that he’s kidding. “You’re insane.”
“You love me for it,” he says, his face like a mischievous cat’s. “And I can’t spend another minute without you being my wife, so please, elope with me.”
Unlike Satoru, you were never exactly one for grand gestures. He knew you never had dreams of a big fairytale wedding with hundreds of guests or a giant hall, and it’s precisely one of the reasons why he’s asking this of you.
“The higher-ups are going to be pissed,” you say, leaning in close to his face until there’s hardly a hair’s width between your noses. 
“That’s the point,” he tells you. “Is that another yes, then?”
You stare into the depths of his irises, the ones that are swimming with adoration, the ones that have never changed how they stare at you, even after all these years. Not that you had any doubts before, but suddenly you’ve never wanted anything more. The feeling settles into your bloodstream, to your bones, to the very core of your being–certainty.
“Yes, Satoru, I’ll elope with you,” you say, and then your lips are on his. There’s a million words in the way he kisses you, ones that he would never be able to speak even if he tried, so he kisses you and kisses you in hopes that you’ll understand them. He kisses you like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. It is.
You part, sorrowfully, heads spinning, but then you remember you have things to do. 
“I need to start getting ready,” you say, and you already know exactly what his response will be–a groan, a whine, and him begging you to stay in his arms for a little while longer. 
He does just that. 
“Satoruuu,” you say, mimicking the way he whines your name. “The sooner I get ready the sooner we’ll be married. Isn’t that what you want?”
He pouts for the sake of pouting, then his arms loosen around your waist and you leave him with a peck upon his lips before tossing yourself out of bed. 
You spend the next hour and something at your vanity, having never imagined that your wedding day would leave you doing your own hair and makeup.
After Satoru brings you a cup of coffee and plants a chaste kiss to your temple, he heads to the bathroom to shower, leaving you to finish getting yourself ready. When he returns twenty minutes later, he finds you standing in your walk-in closet in only your bra and underwear, looking terribly focused. You don’t need to be a mind-reader to know he wants to tell you to go as you are—he refrains, however. It’s a miracle that he’s able to.
“You should wear that white dress you have. The one with the sleeves,” he suggests, flapping his arms and immediately you know which one he’s talking about. A plain white minidress with flared mesh sleeves and sweetheart neckline that you wore to a fancy dinner once. You fish it out, and Satoru approaches you as you step into it and pull it up your hips. Wordlessly, he zips the back up, holding his breath as he does. 
“I don’t think you’re supposed to see me yet,” you quip, giggling when you turn to face him. 
“Baby, there’s nothing conventional about how we’re getting married,” he grins, giving your ass a tap as you walk past him to pick out your jewellery. 
Of course, he insists on putting your necklace on for you too, a dainty Tiffany chain with a diamond sun pendant that he gifted you for your birthday years back because he liked to call you his sun. Again, the feather-light brush of his fingers over your skin sends bolts of lightning shooting to your fingertips. It’s reminiscent of the way he made you feel a decade ago, before he had even kissed you for the first time, when his cheesy, cat-like smile would send your heart racing and heat rushing to your face. When butterflies would erupt in your belly and you felt like you were floating. For some reason you found it hard to believe that feelings like that would persist, but it is in Satoru’s blood to prove you wrong, and he did, and he does still.
You decide on a pair of glimmering white Jimmy Choo heels, but before you can even think to put them on, Satoru is on his knees, softly grasping each leg of yours so he can slip the shoes on and carefully tighten the straps one by one. It’s something that never fails to make you giddy–to make you question if you’re even worthy of this man (you know you are, after all he’d spent the last few years doing everything in his power to prove to you that he’s the lucky one between you). Still, you think it’s perfectly valid to wonder what you’ve done to deserve someone like this.
Satoru stands then, a perpetual smile upon his glossy pink lips. He’s in a pair of pressed black slacks that hug his thick, toned legs, and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons left open (because you always tell him you like how good he looks) and nothing to cover his eyes. You’re the only person he’ll be looking at today, after all. He’d die before letting anything obscure his view of you.
He takes your hand and raises it into the air and twirls you around, his eyes drinking in every detail of you, inhaling your sweet, angelic scent, and now it’s his turn to wonder how he managed to get so lucky, as if it doesn’t occupy his mind from the very second he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. 
He’s still unlearning the idea that he’s alone because it was all that he ever knew from the day that he was born. He’s always had friends and caretakers and people who admired him and who depended on him and who worshipped him, but he was always there at the top, the closest thing to a god that a human could be—by himself. No one could possibly understand him enough to be by his side, not really. Then one day you came along and you slithered your way into the cracks and crevices of his very being and refused to budge, and you showed him that he’s not alone, that there are people who he can trust and depend on and people who he can love. 
He never lets go of your hand, pulling you close to his chest and grinning down at you. His eyes gleam with a mischief that’s all too familiar, one that’s got you instantly suspicious.
“Please don’t hate me,” he says but it’s without any real concern. 
You have an inkling as to what he’s planning, but you don’t even get the chance to open your mouth to question him because one moment you’re standing in the foyer of your home and the next you’re outside of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. 
He predicts the way you smack his chest and whine out a mildly irritated “Satoru!”–it only makes him grin harder, because he knows how much you hate when he teleports you without warning, but right now he just can’t wait another moment (and neither can you) so you don’t have it in you to be genuinely displeased.
As he makes his way to the entrance, you tug on his arm suddenly to stop him after a certain realisation hits you. 
“Satoru, don’t we need a witness?” you ask. 
His eyes narrow in thought and he looks around, cartoon-like, before his face fills with resolution and he’s strolling away from the building with you in tow. 
“Excuse me,” he exclaims, and you follow his gaze to where an older couple are walking by, hands intertwined. They turn to him inquisitively, so he continues. “My gorgeous fiancée here and I are about to be wed. All of our friends were too busy today, so we don’t have any witnesses. Would you spare a moment of time for a young, smitten couple?”
You roll your eyes, but the grin smirk your lips betrays you. “We’re sincerely sorry for interrupting your day. What my insufferable fiancé here means to say is we would appreciate it greatly if you would be our witnesses.”
The couple take a glance at one another, silently communicating before they face you and Satoru once more, nodding their heads.
“It’s our day off, we were just going to walk around the city anyway,” the lady explains, her pale, weathered lips stretching into a gentle smile.
Thus, you waltz into the city hall altogether, and only now does it begin to settle in that you’re about to marry Satoru Gojo. The morning had gone by so quickly– you’d only been awake less than four hours, and during that time you never once stopped to let any of it sink in.
Now, it sinks in. All the way to your core, to the fibres and cells that make up your being. Inside your ribs your heart is swollen, filled to the brim with scarlet red until it overflows and paints everything around it, until every part of you, every seam that holds you together has been altered, touched by something that Satoru gifted you on the first day you met him.
Your lover seems to move in slow motion. Your breath is caught in your throat. It’s a dream, you’re sure of it. Then Satoru squeezes your hand, ever perceptive of your thoughts, and reminds you that it’s not. 
After gathering a pile of documents, a man in a suit takes you to a room that’s a smaller version of a court and begins to lay out the papers, simultaneously explaining each one’s purpose and indicating what you and Satoru must fill out. You provide him with your own documents–birth certificates and proof of residence, and then the two strangers who had offered themselves to you as witnesses give their signatures. 
Your officiant makes his speech in a professional language, far from the flowery words given by priests or family friends in churches or venues adorned with flowers and ribbons along every wall.
Lack of preparation means your vows are a repetition of a script written decades ago: you take Satoru to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.
During Satoru’s turn, he hesitates. His eyes shine with a strange epiphany as he stares down at you. 
“...From this day forward, until the end of time. Even death will not do us part.”
There are no words in any language, dead or alive, that are adequate enough to describe the elation you experience. There is no concept, idea, or theory that would truly reveal the way that you are consumed by love for him. It runs through your bloodstream, intrinsic to your very being. 
The officiant announces that you and Satoru are husband and wife. Now you are one flesh and bone. He leans forward, kisses you, and it’s a promise of eternal devotion.
Outside of the city hall, where time no longer stands still but you still feel as though you are not inside of your body, your husband Satoru Gojo bows to the man and woman who made your marriage possible. 
Satoru Gojo does not bow. And while it is easy to attribute it to some god complex, to the product of his upbringing, as many do, those to whom Satoru has shown his soul know that it is rebellion. It is the denial of a convention he refuses to assimilate with, one he does not believe in, one which begs children to be grateful to those who have sown them as though they had the choice to be sown.
When Satoru Gojo does bow, it is not without good reason. Most often it is only when he owes someone his life—so he bows to the two strangers, whose signatures on a piece of paper mean that he is eternally yours.
Beside him, you bow too.
“Thank you,” Satoru says, then both of you straighten up to find the couple smiling before you. There is kindness etched into every line on their face, a fondness simmering in their eyes. Their arms are linked, and all of a sudden you’re looking in a mirror.
“Congratulations on your marriage,” the woman says. “I’m certain you will flourish together.”
“You know, young people are always getting into relationships, but seeing true love like what you have with one another… It’s a rare thing nowadays. Please cherish that,” the man says.
“We’ll be forever grateful for you,” you say. “Thank you.”
The four of you part, but the couple, whose names you do not know, now lives in a part of your mind that can never be erased.
The first thing Satoru does as your husband, as you walk down the streets of Tokyo with your hands laced together, is suddenly disappear into a flower shop as you pass by it, before emerging once more and handing you a bouquet of crimson carnations and white roses with a cheshire cat smile on his face.
“Your wedding bouquet,” he says.
“Oh, Satoru, they’re beautiful,” you muse, allowing your nose to absorb their earthy scent. “Thank you.”
You tug him by the hand that’s woven with yours, pulling him down to plant a kiss upon his cheek.
The next stop is a jewellery store, and you yelp as Satoru pulls you inside with him this time. 
“Pick whatever ring you like, baby,” he tells you as you stand before the glass case where thousands of crystals glimmer back at you, splayed out on a bed of white. “Just to wear until you pick your actual one.”
Blood warms your face. It’s not meant to be a brag. Even if he didn’t have generations of wealth in his bank account, he’d buy you as many rings as you wanted until you found the perfect one. For you, he would find a way.
Your eyes wander over every diamond, over gold and silver and platinum, and it’s not long at all before they all start to look the same. Not wanting to spend your entire wedding day inside a jewellery store, you land on a simple diamond-studded silver band and point it out to Satoru.
“That one?” he asks. 
You nod, a satisfied smile making your lips curl.
Satoru flags down the jeweller, a thin woman with shiny skin, requesting the ring you want. She tells him each of the five diamonds weighs 0.2 carats, making the ring a total of one carat, as if it’ll make a difference to either of you. He doesn’t ask her for the price, but she tells him it’s 550,000 yen—practically theft for someone from the Gojo clan. 
After picking out a matching plain silver band for himself, you and Satoru leave the store and continue strolling through the city. To everyone else, you look like no more than an enamoured couple like the millions of others in Tokyo, and while a part of Satoru feels like he wants to wander up to random strangers to brag to them that you’re his wife, another part cherishes this little secret between you two.
From the day he was born, Satoru Gojo’s wedding was to be a grand affair. Sorcerers from far and wide would gather to witness the expansion of the Gojo clan. It was to be a several day-long event, planned intricately by the higher ups without room for any say from the bride and groom. Satoru did not want that—not for himself, but especially not for you.
Now he laughs as he imagines the higher ups’ faces when they realise he has not only married but eloped behind their backs. Though he thinks he’ll keep his left hand in his pocket the next few times he pays them a visit, at least for a few weeks.
“What?” you ask. His grin spreads from his face to yours.
“Nothing. Are you hungry?” 
“Ugh, yes,” you say. Suddenly your empty stomach becomes even emptier, howling agonisingly loudly.
“Sushi Go?” 
“Please.” 
The nearest one is ten minutes away. When you get there, you sit in a booth next to the conveyor belt, with Satoru insisting on shoving himself into the seat next to you rather than across from you. As soon as his heat radiates into you, however, you feel like melting into him.
After ordering almost the entire menu despite your scolding, Satoru finds the ring boxes and pulls them out of the ribbon-tied bag from the jeweller. He takes your left hand, gently, as though you’re made of glass, and slides the glittering ring onto your fourth finger. He brings it to his lips, then his velvety lips kiss just above where the ring rests.
“Beautiful,” he says. He’s looking at your eyes, not the ring.
You twist it around your finger, lungs empty as it catches every ray of light that comes its way and tosses it back at your eyes. 
“It’s a little big, but I love it.”
“I’ll get you the perfect one, don’t worry,” he says. “To make up for no engagement ring.”
“You make me sound so materialistic,” you quip, taking his hand into yours and slipping the matching silver band onto his bony finger.
“Just spoiled,” he corrects.
You narrow your eyes at him, but it turns into hearts not a moment later. He makes it impossible.
“I love you, Satoru Gojo,” you say, holding up your hands as you lace your fingers together with his.
“I love you,” he says, and the smug, cocky front vanishes, and he bares himself, his true self, to you. “More than anything in this world. I’m gonna prove it to you every single day from now on.”
Your giggle is drenched in fondness. “You already do that.”
“Then I’ll do it even better. This is a promise of that,” he says, thumb stroking over the ring he put on your finger.
His eyes don’t hold an ounce of hesitation, of questioning, of doubt. Only truth.
Your food arrives, and you wish you could say you feel bad about how overtly gross you and Satoru are being, feeding sushi rolls to each other with twinkling eyes, but everything inside you is screaming with euphoria that you can’t bring yourself to care. 
You wipe a drop of soy sauce from the corner of his lips, and he stares at you like you put the sun and the stars and the moon in the sky.
Not to your surprise, you and Satoru don’t finish all of the food he ordered. One of the waiters offers to box up the leftovers, then returns with two paper bags and hands them to your husband, whose unoccupied hand takes yours once more.
He decides he wants to take you to the park. He’s not sure why. It just feels right, and all you want is to spend time with him, so you tell him the park sounds perfect. It’s only another fifteen minute walk, anyway.
When you get there, the emerald lawns are teeming with families, couples, friends. Children run as if they can fly, dogs chase after tennis balls like it is their life mission. Satoru whisks you away from it all however, taking you into the trees.
Nestled amongst the Japanese chinquapin and zelkovas, a cherry blossom spreads its branches out like arms, its blossoms like pink fingertips that flutter as the wind swims through them. Satoru sinks into the cushion of grass at the base of the tree, leaning his broad back against the trunk. Like a cat, you find your way into his lap and rest your head upon his chest, next to his heart. The way his arms wrap around you is instinct.
Sparrows and finches flit about the branches, dancing as they move from one tree to another. Two turtle doves perch together, huddling into the other even though the air is warm.
Even if you and Satoru do not stay bound together in this life, if death takes you or him early, one thing you know for certain—you’ll find him again in another life. Right now, however, you have him in this life, and nothing else matters.
dedicated to @ushiwhacka and @tetsuskei <3 i love u both
2K notes · View notes
sugurufic · 1 month
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Co-Parenting with Suguru
AU where Geto didn't kill the entire village but adopted Nanako and Mimiko (I love mommy geto)
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Geto is able to adopt Mimiko and Nanako with your help, and how the girls with Gojo set you two up. Acquaintances to lovers, idiots who care for each other. (pure fluff, and i've tried to avoid using y/n)
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You wouldn't say you and Geto were good friends, but when you were asked to testify on his behalf in front of the higher ups, you readily agreed. You were tasked to look after the twin girls he had brought back from the village and they were the sweetest little girls you had ever met. Even if Geto had killed those villagers, you couldn't blame him - they were torturing two innocent souls on problems caused by their own vices. 
Shoko and Gojo couldn't testify to Geto's character - everyone knew they were practically joint at the hip - the three of them are always together. You were closer to Utahime  your senpai, known to not like Gojo and Geto very much. With whatever casual conversations you had had with Geto, you hadn't really found a reason to dislike him. And hearing Nanako and Mimiko call him “Geto-Sama” in their sweet little voices only helped in solidifying your high opinion of him.
You heard their narration of the night and how Geto with his incredible bangs and magic powers stopped the evil people hurting them and took him away and dropped them into your arms.
“Do you really think any of those could be trusted with kids?” Geto asked. You snorted in response and gladly accepted to take care of the two lovely little girls.
“Your Geto-Sama will be right back with you,” you promised the girls while closing the buttons of your uniform. “I will be back in a bit. I've got dolls for the both of you,”
“Thank you,” they tell you, adding “sama” to your name. You blush but don't say anything, having already told them to not address you as such multiple times over the couple of days.
“I don't believe that Geto-San could have gone out of his way to hurt those people. In fights with curses, collateral damage is always there, and Geto had two little sorcerers to take care of. I think we can excuse him this time.” You said when you were asked to speak.
“I don't see anything wrong with letting Geto-San take care of the two girls. They clearly trust him much more than anyone else, after how horribly they were treated by the village. I pitch on his behalf, that he would take utmost care of the two sorcerers under his care.” You said when the question for their custody arose.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” Geto said bowing in front of you once the elders were done with the hearing. They had dismissed everyone else to discuss the matter.
“You've got some lovely girls to parent now, Geto-san,” you say, returning his charming smile. “Are you sure you are ready to be a parent?”
“Not really, no,” He admits. “I will try my best though,” 
“Oh they are such lovely girls, I have half a heart to keep them for myself,” You fawn, feeling suspiciously giddy. “If you ever need a babysitter-”
“I will definitely call you,” Geto nods with a smile on his beautiful face. He has always been beautiful, but today with his hair half-up, half-down, he looks especially charming. He rushes away on hearing footsteps and you walk the short distance to the dormitories. 
“Hello girls!” You excitedly enter your room, holding out a bunch of cookies in your hands, thanks to Utahime. “The final decision of the higher ups will come later today, but Geto should be free to see you,” You give them the stack of cookies and then seeing the styled dolls add, “Do you girls like dressing up?”
You smile with the way their eyes widen with excitement and open your humble wardrobe in the dormitory, giving them access to everything they'd need to get dressed up. They decide to dress you up instead, and the three of you are full of giggles as they take your makeup and freely draw on your face - and be surprisingly good at it. You play some of your favourite music, which the girls seem to enjoy and then they paint your nails. They dress you in your best clothes and you love the way they've styled you.
There's still a long time left before the higher ups will announce the decision, so you take the girls out shopping to distract them. Fortunately, your income as a sorcerer allows you to have the freedom to spoil your girls - and you love it to an alarming extent. Mimiko and Nanako have got excellent taste, you'll credit them that - they pick out the cutest dresses for each other and coloured lip balms that compliments each other's hair well. You encourage them to change into their new clothes in the mall itself  and take so many pictures of them and with them - and you are almost sad at the thought of letting Geto have them, but that's something you will be sad for later.
You've lost track of time at the mall, and when you get back it's already twilight. The girls had a lovely day, and they are still buzzing with excitement when you enter. 
Geto is sitting on your bed, in a semi-clear spot with almost all of your stuff on it - from the whirlwind that dressed you earlier. 
“Geto-Sama!” The girls scream with delight and kneel down in front of him with bows, showing how grateful they were to him - he motions them to get up and hugs them both simultaneously, but his foxy eyes hold your gaze as he says, “Mimiko and Nanako can live with me, from now.”
Your body reacts to the news faster than your mind, and you've already planted a kiss on his cheek and have your arms wrapped around him before you realise what you have done. A crimson blush colours his face along with your lipstick as he thanks you, his voice softer and breather than usual.
Your whole body heats up when you see the colour of your lipstick on his cheek  and the way he makes no attempt to wipe it off his flushed cheeks as Mimiko and Nanako look up at him with glittering eyes. 
You hear your name from Nanako’s mouth, noting the “sama” she had added yet again. Geto's eyes are affectionate as he hears them gush to him about you, about the fun they had with you. 
While Mimiko is in Geto's arms, Nanako makes her way into yours and you feel silly for tearing up. You hug her close to your chest, feeling her little arms around your shoulders. “Thank you for bringing back Geto-Sama,” Nanako whispers to you. You pat her head and plant a gentle kiss on her cheek, now mindful of the transferring lipstick.
The sound of a camera clicking snaps the four of you out of the trance, and you find the Gojo Satoru standing at the threshold of your room, clicking pictures of the four of you. “Suguru, you get a girlfriend and daughters and you forget all about your best friend,” He tuts, dramatically putting a hand over his chest, his icy blue eyes peeking from behind his sunglasses.
Gojo gasps on seeing the lipstick mark on Suguru’s cheek and takes out his phone to snap even more pictures of a blushing Suguru. “You forgot to mention things were this serious!” He says, mock offended.
“Gojo/Satoru, shut up!” You and Geto speak simultaneously.
“You're even saying the same things now,” Gojo sighs like an old man. Mimiko and Nanako burst out into a fit of giggles. “You agree with your godfather, Satoru, right girls?”
“Godfather? Where did that come from?” You ask, scrunching up your nose.
“Well it was gonna be Suguru as mother and myself as the father but now you've taken in as their mother and Suguru as their father so I've got to take the next best thing-!”
You hit him upside his white-haired head, veins on your forehead popping out with irritation at his words. Gojo rubs the top of his head muttering something under his breath. “This is why I always stay with Utahime Senpai,” you say, making Suguru and the twins laugh.
“Get him, girl!” Geto cheers you on.
“I won't give you Nanako and Mimiko if you continue to be roommates with him,” you declare, narrowing your eyes at Geto.
“I'm renting a place outside Jujutsu Tech,” Geto confesses with a sigh.
“WHAT-?” You and Gojo both yell in shock.
“It's for the best,” He says.
“You’re taking my girls away from me!” You complain, hand on your chest. “This is so unfair, Geto-kun. How will I see them now?”
.
It's been a couple of weeks, and the twins have adjusted well to Tokyo. You've adjusted too, opting to spend your time with them rather than with anyone else. Gojo keeps teasing you relentlessly, not even bothering to stop when the teachers are around. You've grown closer to Suguru as well, spending most of your off-time with him. Shoko has become your refuge now, with Utahime leaving for Kyoto.
It's one of your lazy Sundays, and you wake from your and the twins afternoon nap. They are snuggled to either side of you, and it’s unbearably hot but you don't dare move; admiring their serene, sleeping faces. Your left eye twitched at the thought of the torture your girls were subjected to by those foolish villagers, blood boiling once again.
You reach for your phone instead, going through some old photos. You've scrolled down to when the girls were living with you, a picture of the three of you with matching white bows in your hair when the door quietly opens, and Suguru quietly enters with a pitcher of water and some glasses. He chuckles at your grateful face, pouring out some water for you. You gulp down the water, your overheated body giving out a sigh of relief when the cold water hits your stomach. 
“It's time to wake them up,” He whispers, leaning down to your laying form.
“I don't really want to,” you whisper to him, pleading, not looking away from his pretty dark eyes. “Five more minutes?”
“Okay,” He relented with a sigh, sitting beside Nanako. You think of how different he is now, different from when he is exorcising curses and when he is with Gojo. You also find yourself liking this side of him, that only his girls got to see. And you, one of his girls. 
“Have you thought about their schooling?” You ask, voice quieter than a mouse. Geto lays down, facing you.
“I’ll have them homeschooled,” He replies just as quietly, frowning.
“That’s boring,” You say. “How will they adjust to the outside world? We can’t always be with them.”
“I’m terrified of the curses getting -”
“Teach them to defend themselves, just a little.” You suggest. “You know they can’t rely on others, they will need to learn to keep each other safe.”
Nanako stirs between the two of you, mumbling a hushed “papa,” under her breath as she snuggles into Geto. You fawn all over this, his pretty eyes wide and looking at you, seeking assurance. A gentle smile graces his beautiful face as he caresses the girl’s caramel hair and you have to resist the urge to pull his silky hair out of the bun and run your fingers through them. You opt to lightly pat Mimiko’s dark head instead, and she snuggles into you mumbling, “mama,”
Admittedly, you’ve teared up a little and you excitedly turn to Geto, who is giving you his prettiest smile that you’ve ever seen. In this little moment, you can pretend to be a happy family, living in a rose-coloured dream.
.
Suguru loves spending time with his girls, and it’s even more delightful when you join in. He especially loves it now that you’ve practically moved in - the guest room slowly filling up with your scent and trinkets. He enjoys taking all of you out to different spots in the city - the parks, the malls, cute cafes and even back to Jujutsu Tech, occasionally. 
Suguru wonders if the two of you could even be friends if not for Mimiko and Nanako - just adding to a long list of things that he was grateful for from that night. Your easy smile and sparkling eyes and the way you shower his girls with your love and care just keeps on adding to all the things he admires about you. He half wishes Satoru’s mindless teasing to become a reality, but he lacks the courage.
Currently, he’s sitting on the floor with Nanako behind him, brushing his hair out and Mimiko sitting beside her twin, acting as her inventory. He’s in pure bliss, and the only thing that can make this better is your presence.
Soon enough there is a knock on the door, and Suguru feels bad for hoping it’s you. Of course, he enjoys your company, but you deserve a chance to live freely and not spend every waking hour with him. Satoru and Shoko are there instead, with amazing takeout for Friday evening.
Satoru spoils his self-proclaimed goddaughters (Suguru wouldn’t trust anyone else, either) with the best of everything. Shoko loves teaching them new things, reading, maths, curses, the human body - everything watered down to suit their tender young age.
The four of them play board games while Suguru does the laundry, putting the clothes on the drying line. Usually, you would be here helping him with the clothes, words flowing easily between the two of you. 
He's distracted from laundry when he hears Satoru call your name followed by a whistle, then yelling, “I can't really blame Suguru, you look so hot!” He hears your grumble something, and then Mimiko and Nanako’s excited cheers on your appearance. “You had a date?!” Satoru says again, his voice loud and surprised.
Suguru’s heart feels heavy, and he makes his way to the rest leaving half of the clothes in the dryer. 
“It wasn't really a date honestly.” You complain. “That guy had no manners! Chewing with his mouth open and not even using the napkins properly! And he barely asked me anything, kept on boasting about himself - it was boring.”
Suguru feels half guilty for the way his chest relaxes, but his breath is taken away as soon as he sees you - you are always beautiful, but you look especially pretty with your brown leather skirt and black jumper. Your jewellery compliments your complexion, and your hair looks perfect. And he has to agree with Satoru- you look hot.
“Where's Suguru?” You ask, looking around.
“Right here,” He says, coming to stand beside you.
He loves the way your eyes sparkle - the lids decorated to match the outfit and a delighted glimmer in your eyes.
“So, I was at the mall and this reminded me of you,” you say, picking up the paper bag on the floor beside you. “The only good thing that came from today, to be honest.”
“You were thinking of me while out with another guy?” He teases.
You get flustered, but respond “Do you want this present or not?” You try to sound stern, but you hand him the bag regardless.
The bag feels heavier than he had expected, and glances in to see the professional camera he had been eyeing for a long time but didn't buy in favour of getting Mimiko and Nanako some limited edition dolls. His pretty eyes widened with delight. “How did you know?” He asks, unable to hold back his excited smirk.
“I am not blind, you know.” You retort, happy that he loved the gift.
“What is it?” Shoko asks. Satoru snaps the bag towards himself, taking out the box of camera and different lenses. “That is one expensive investment,” she remarks.
You chose to ignore her comment, distracting everyone with the little cake you had bought. “And I've got cake!”
“Is today someone's birthday?” Mimiko asks.
“No, baby.” You say, “It's okay to have cake without any reason,”
The little girls are delighted to see the half sky and half forest cake. Neither Suguru, you or his girls have any idea as to when the exact birthday is, so you have them cut the cake together, pretending it to be their birthday. When Suguru takes the cake to the kitchen to cut it up, you follow him, leaving the twins with Shoko and Satoru.
“Suguru, you should get dressed up fancy too,” You say. “Let’s take some good pictures with our girls. I’ll cut the cake up.”
“Okay,” He agrees.
Suguru decides to match you, consciously picking pieces that compliment your outfit well. He is inappropriately fancy dressed up for this photo session. He is thrilled to use the camera you’ve gifted him, and there is no better scene to be his first than his girls(you included) and his friends. He’s brushing his hair out, putting it up in a half updo before giving himself a once-over then leaving.
He’s surprised to see Mimiko and Nanako dressed up too, sitting on either side of Satoru as Shoko and you clicked pictures on the phones. His camera is sitting on the table, still in its box. He has a child-like excitement as he opens the box and checks the lenses with it - the excitement of setting up the camera is unmatched. Even though he enjoys spoiling his girls, he cannot deny that being spoiled is a nice feeling.
Once his camera is ready, he snaps a picture of the scene - you sit between your girls now as Satoru and Shoko click pictures. The flash from the camera distracts everyone, and his eyes find yours sparkling, looking at him with the sweetest smile on your face. He cannot help but wonder how your lips would taste. Suguru smiles at you instead as you wave him over, Mimiko and Nanako between the two of you. Satoru and Shoko give him a knowing once over, the deliberate matching not missing his best friend’s six eyes.
Your hand touches his - neither of you attempting to move as Satoru clicks a picture of the four of you in Suguru’s new camera. Satoru is grinning like an idiot seeing Suguru’s blushing face, motioning Shoko to click some pictures of their idiot friend in love with his daughters’ mother. It is stupid, Gojo thinks, the way that the two of you act like an old married couple but are too terrified to confess your feelings for one another.
“Mimiko, Nanako, come here for a moment, dears,” Gojo calls them. “Suguru, Y/N, please stand closer. You aren’t rivals.”
Suguru narrows his eyes at Satoru, but doesn’t comment on it, too happy when you’ve pressed yourself at his side, your arm wrapped around his waist. He swings his arm over your shoulder and leans his head towards yours. His face burns with the soft warmth of your body pressed against him - but he holds his smile steadily, looking at the camera. He looks at your beautiful face for a moment, the serene smile on your face and he forgets all about the jerk who had taken you out.
He just prays that he gets the courage to ask you for a dinner date - perhaps before someone else snatches you out of this perfect life of his.
.
Satoru is at Suguru’s flat, spending time with the sweet little girls. Both you and Suguru had some unavoidable business to attend to - you with some curses and him with his parents - and he finally got the chance to babysit them. Satoru is currently sitting on the floor of the twin’s bedroom, with pink bows in his white hair and getting his nails painted in a pale blue colour by Mimiko and Nanako.
It's not his favourite thing for amusement, but he lets it pass. He does get why Suguru lets his girls do these things to him - they look just so precious with the little forehead creased in concentration. His mind is cooking up a scheme - a scheme which can only be fulfilled with the little one's help. It’s only with him that they address you and Suguru as mama and papa- feeling too shy to address the two of you as such face-to-face.
“Dears, do you think your papa and mama love each other?” He asks the little angels painting his nails.
The girls share a secret look with a smirk that tells Gojo everything that he needs to know. “I’ve seen papa look at mama the way Nanako looks at crepes, Gojo-sama!” Mimiko snickers. “He always has a big smile when mama is home.”
“Mama is also the same, Gojo-sama!” Nanako says. “She looks at papa the way Mimiko looks at ice-cream!”
Gojo laughs at their childish description of the two, wondering how blind you guys must be to not see that the feelings are shared.
“Gojo-sama!” Nanako jumps, excited, as she remembers something else, her caramel bob shaking. “One evening, when mama fell asleep on the sofa, papa carried her to her room. We brought her blankets and he tucked her in, but she held his hands in her sleep.”
“Yes!” Mimiko jumps up too, brown eyes gleaming with giggles. “Papa had turned so pink when Mama did that. He could barely speak.”
“That sounds familiar,” Gojo giggles with them. “Do you want to help me set-”
“Yes!” the twins shriek before he even finishes the question.
Once the three of them are done with the set up, Gojo calls Geto to let him know that he has some urgent clan business to attend to, while Mimiko calls you to tell you that Nanako had a bad dream and she misses you terribly. Both of you rush to return while Gojo and his goddaughters leave for the evening. Gojo leaves a little post-it-note on the fridge, with a brief message.
Geto has been running for 10 minutes straight, red faced and out of breath as he reaches the door of the flat. The elevator dings open and you step out, looking just as out of breath. “Did Mimiko call you too?” you ask, panting.
“No, Gojo told me he has some clan business - ” He says, taking a moment to completely process your question. “Why did Mimiko call you?”
“Nanako had a nightmare, she was asking for me only, apparently.” You say, standing beside him now. The enticing smell of your perfume fills his senses and he is grateful that his girls have you to comfort them. He too finds comfort in your presence - albeit it’s for different reasons than his girls.
When no one opens the door for a couple of minutes, you put your ear to the door and try to hear something. The house is quiet, devoid of any movements.
“I think they’ve fallen asleep.” you comment.
Geto then opens then closes the door as quietly as he can, trying not to disturb the girl’s sleep. He bumps into you standing in the hallway after taking off his shoes - only to gasp as he sees the immaculate set up in the living room. A sheer white canopy covered in fairy lights and seemingly all of the pillows and some mattresses of the house thrown in the tent - and some of his and your favourite snacks. There’s a movie paused at the beginning and red roses and candles and mild incense decorating the room. Geto blushes when he realises that it’s a set up for a date, heart pounding against his ribs in part-annoyance and part-excitement as he sees your shy face. He’s half mad at Gojo, but he can see the traces of Mimiko and Nanako as well - with the way the pillows are laid out and the flowers are placed.
Geto’s phone rings, breaking the tense silence. It’s Gojo. “Suguru! Put me on speaker!” Gojo’s excited voice says from the other end. He can hear his girls giggling in the background. 
“Fine,” Geto sighs.
“Oh hey!” you turn around on hearing Gojo call your name, face hot and worrying your lip between your teeth. “Your little girls, they thought we should let you guys have an evening to yourself - relax and watch a movie. How did you like that set up?”
“You didn’t really have to-” You start to speak as Geto rolls his eyes, fully knowing it was Gojo’s plan. He knew Gojo well.
“Nonsense, you won’t let your daughters down by saying that,” Gojo says, and Mimiko and Nanako giggle louder. “Alright, bye! Enjoy yourselves. There’s wine in the fridge, Suguru.” He says before handing up.
“I’ll get the wine,” Suguru offers. You smile at him before sitting down in the fairy-light canopy, looking much like the woman of his dreams, like a princess waiting for her prince. His heart aches, for he can’t call you his, not outside of his mind. He smiles too, pretending that it’s date-night for you.
There’s a note on the fridge in Satoru’s messy scrawl which gets his attention first. Suguru, take one for the team and ask her !!! Your daughters and friends are rooting for you. She likes you, you blind idiot. A blush colours his face as he crumples the note and throws it in the bin.
His favourite wine is in the fridge, and Suguru is half surprised at Satoru’s thoughtfulness. He pours out two glasses and brings them to you, the bottle left back in the fridge. “Wine for you, ma’am,” he says, and you get the cutest blush on your face as you accept the glass, humming in delight at the taste. He follows your stead and lazily relaxes against the mountain of pillows under the canopy.
“What’s this movie?” You ask, fidgeting with the remote.
“I have no idea,” He says, praying that Satoru doesn’t embarrass him.
The movie begins with the main character, the girl getting ready to go work. It seemed like a cheesy hollywood christmas movie at the beginning, where the girl would be frustrated with her job and go to her small town and never return. That would have been better, in hindsight. Because as the movie progresses, and the love interest comes in - a single father, who had to send his daughter into foster care because he was wrongfully accused of embezzlement - the foster parent being the main character. The girl testifies for him in court while she lives with a new normal - caring for the love interest’s daughter as her own.
Suguru's face burns with how similar the movie is to you and him - he can barely even look at the screen. While the movie played, he subconsciously reached towards you, your warm cheek now resting against his shoulder. It’s hard for him to ignore it now that he realises that this movie was a deliberate selection, and the comment in the note about him being blind. 
Suguru steals a quick glance at you, finding you looking at the screen with a little smile, cuddling one of the bigger pillows. You seem totally unaffected by the movie. “It’s so cute,” you murmur. 
“Hm?” he prompts.
“The story,” you say, glancing up at him then back at the screen. 
“Would it be cute if it were real?” he asks, heart pounding against his ribcage.
“Even cuter,” you nod, cheek moving against his shoulder.
His heart threatens to crawl out of his throat at the admission. He eyes the two hands, one his and the other yours - so close but not touching, afraid to cross that invisible boundary which has built over time. He dares now, for once to cross that boundary, to test the waters and puts his pinky finger over yours, interlocking them. He can feel your smile get wider as his heart nearly makes a hole in his ribs.
You take it a step further and intertwine your hands with his.
“I love the way your hand fits in mine,” he says after a long tense silence, sounding breathier than usual.
“You have nice hands,” you shyly say.
It brings him confidence, the way you say it. Emboldened, he turns to face you and wraps his free arm over your waist, pulling you closer. His nose touches your forehead and he inhales the smell of your shampoo, never tired of smelling it in the pillowcases of your room. He lowers himself to your eye level, stroking your cheekbone. “Would let me kiss you?” he whispers to your lips.
“Always,” you whisper, parting your lips to welcome him.
The kiss is everything he could have imagined and more. It’s pure bliss, the way your mouth slots against his and the way to taste better than he could have possibly imagined. Of course, you have always been pretty, but he found you the most beautiful in this moment, in his arms, with your soft tongue fighting against his. His brain has short circuited and he fears that he might get addicted to your taste. He chases your mouth when you pull away to catch your breath, letting go of the intertwined hands that had sweat in the heat of the moment.
Suguru misses your lips instantly, scanning your face for any signs of regret or discomfort. You place one of your hands on his neck, reach the back of it and caress the delicate spot where his hair ends, and a gasp leaves his mouth at the sensation. You put your other hand on his collar and pull him close, his face dragging against the soft pillows and you kiss him. This kiss is much more desperate than the first one, with your teeth occasionally crashing and tongues exploring, the movie long forgotten still playing on the screen.
When you’re both out of breath, you pull back, still breathing the same air and noses touching.
“It was the best fucking kiss of my life,” Suguru confesses, sounding out of breath.
“Mine too,” you say.
He doesn’t want you to think that it was a spur of the moment thing, so he puts on his serious face and says, “Would you like to go out for dinner with me? As more than co-parents?” 
“I thought you’d never ask,” you reply with a giggle.
“Dress fancy,” He says. “Let’s go.”
“Now?” you ask.
“Why wait ?” he shrugs.
“I don’t have - ”
“You do,” he says, shy. “I had got something for you a while back, but never mustered up the courage to give it to you.”
You sit up, looking down at him with an excited gleam in your eyes. “You’ve gotten me an outfit for our first gate, it seems like you were prepared.”
“I swear to you that I wasn’t.” He says. “Just try it once.”
The dress Suguru brought compliments your figure and complexion well, and you’re surprised to see that it fits perfectly. You uber to a fancy place, and with the man on your side, this is the most perfect first date ever. The maroon dress hugs your figure in the right places, and you feel giddy knowing that Suguru had bought this lovely dress with you in mind. 
He looks even prettier today, sitting in front of you as your date, dressed in an equally fancy maroon suit. You take plenty of pictures with him, distracted by his long silky hair in a half-up, half-down look. You can barely process the food, distracted by the beautiful man in front of you taking in the way he talks. The way he says your name, almost purring, has you wanting to throw your feet and giggle like a little girl.
Suguru isn’t better off himself. Of course, he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, but right now dressed in the dress he bought for you, sitting in front of him with flushed cheeks, the delicate smile never leaving your face as you speak has his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He finally has you with him the way he had been wanting for years, finding you pretty even when you were both mere acquaintances. 
He cannot wait to call you his, but he supposes he’ll save that question for the next date - for you to give this relationship a name. In his head, he is already yours - heart, mind and soul - the only question bugging him is whether you want to be his. That’s a worry for later, he thinks, as he plants a delicate kiss on your lips as the long evening comes to an end.
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two-white-butterflies · 4 months
Text
silver spring | coriolanus snow
Description: Coriolanus Snow knows that he shouldn't have ended up this way. He knows that he was destined to be something better. The woman sleeping beside him is a testament of his reckoning, Lucy Gray is a ghost that he tries to forget. (Snow and Reader's marriage told through the cold beliefs of Coriolanus.)
Pairing: young-president!coriolanus snow/wife!reader
Warning: childbirth, major character death, angst, snow is haunted by lucy gray's memory.
"Time cast a spell on you But you won't forget me." - Fleetwood Mac.
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[...] He was glad about the erasure. It was just another way to eliminate Lucy Gray from the world. The Capitol would forget her, the districts barely knew her, and District 12 had never accepted her as their own. In a few years, there would be a vague memory that a girl had once sung in the arena. And then that would be forgotten too. Goodbye Lucy Gray, we hardly knew you.
"Are you alright?" you cleared your throat seeing him in deep thought. There was always something mysterious inside the man that you married - he was always deep in thought. "You came to visit?" he seemed disinterested in what you had to say. "I-they told me that you didn't eat dinner yet," you managed to choke out.
He was very clear and precise. He told you that he couldn't stand you - that he hated you, and it was the very reason that you were wed.
An amused chuckle exits his mouth. "Aren't there more important things to have your attention?" he raised an eyebrow, staring at you up and down with that incredulous stare.
You seemed to amuse him - to some extent.
"- like running our household or gossiping with your friends." he mused, returning back to his paperwork. His statement made you feel awry, you were never the one to listen to gossip - the suggestion that you should do that only cemented the fact that he didn't know you - didn't bother enough to know you. "I was worried that you'd starve without dinner." you took another step forward.
He shakes his head.
"I will not die without dinner." he scoffed - dismissing you.
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It was late at night when Coriolanus stumbled inside your room. By then, he could hardly make out the outline of your body on the bed.
He couldn't believe that the woman he hated - had finally become his wife. "Coriolanus," you mumbled - eyes trying to adjust with the dim light. "Did I wake you?" he removed his jacket, surprised at his tone. "N-No," you stuttered. A meek prey against him.
You moved slightly, leaving him enough space to lay beside you.
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Coriolanus was surprised that you slept that quick - though, perhaps he was also thankful. He didn't want to create a reason for small talk. Your purpose in his life wasn't to be loved - it was to create children, and to strengthen his political prowess.
The moment he set his eyes on you - he vowed to never love or care for you. He couldn't afford to love again. He knows what love feels like - Lucy Gray manipulated him, both body and soul. Until now he doesn't know if she is truly dead. He wishes that she is.
He is snapped away from his thoughts again.
This time, you wrap your arms around him. His eyes widen in surprise, he opens his mouth to speak but he relents seeing your sleeping figure.
He may hate you, but it does not stop him from finding you beautiful.
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It was a few months later when he sees you again - this time with good news. "They tell me that our child is the size of a small ball." you smiled, reaching for his hand and placing it on your stomach. This was one of the few moments where he showed his love. You were sat on his lap, almost inhaling his scent at the proximity.
It was all for show, you thought. He had guests in the courtyard, and they could see you from the window.
"I've thought of names, but I wanted you to choose too." you continued, licking your pink lips. Oh, Coriolanus wanted nothing than to kiss those lips right now - but alas, his ambition ruled him. "What are they?" he continued rubbing your belly.
"Brutus, if it is a boy and Lucy-"
"No, not Lucy. Something else." he demanded, interrupting you. "Josephine," you quickly replace and he nods.
"- but if there are other names that you prefer, you may choose." you stared deep into his eyes. "You bleed, you decide." he whispered, his hands trailing up to your neck. "Kiss me," he suddenly demanded.
"What?" your eyebrows merged into each other.
"There's people watching, kiss me."
And you obeyed him.
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"As pure as the driven snow," you mumble while soothing the pain in your stomach. "What did you say?" Coriolanus raised an eyebrow. "Our child is as pure as the driven snow," you repeated - almost seeing his face in a dream. "Where did you come up with that?" he chuckled, slowly used to your company.
"You mumbled it in your sleep." you responded, continuing to write on your journal. "Well, I can't remember saying that anymore." he shrugged, feeling paranoia gnaw at his bones.
Lucy Gray, let me live.
"It sounds familiar, it's from that tribute - I watched her then, but its been so long I can't even remember." you chuckled, Lucy Gray Baird, the songbird from District 12.
You were enamored by her - intrigued by her voice. Your husband seems to be the same. "Is that why you wanted to name our child Lucy?" he questioned, her name tasted bitter on his tongue. "No, of course not - you'd never approve." you scoffed.
"Why wouldn't I? I don't know Lucy Gray personally." he lied once more, maintaining his narrative. "You told me that the Games were created to remind the Districts of what they are - animals." you remembered, not fully believing his speech. "You would hate me if I named our child after an ... well, someone that you hate."
"Good, and don't mention Lucy Gray ever again." his eyes narrowed.
part two >>
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1K notes · View notes
dwindlinghaze · 9 months
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helloo can i request a fic for introvert!reader with extrovert!remus lupin whos head over heels for her <3
yes u can darlin <3 🫧🫧 i sort of wrote this into a whole new story but i hope you like this one ☁️🌸🩷🤍
everytime
(remus lupin x reader)
contents : fem reader, toxic friendships, kissing, fluff !! not proofread
  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
the door slammed open, revealing three young witches with their hands full of shopping bags. you knew they were going to hogsmeade together, but a part of you wished they had invited you.
they're your roomates and friends.
you couldn't go as far as calling them your true friends because they don't involve you much in their group activities.
they go on picnics together, shopping for pretty dresses in hogsmeade, having brunch dates, going to the movies.
a part of you wished you're there, being together with them and just fitting in. but the other part of you were thankful as for they're not inviting you because you would feel left out anyways.
it was better to be left out, and only you know it, rather than being left out with other people knowing.
maybe it wasn't their fault. elina is pretty, smart, bright and outgoing. adrienne is cheerful, energetic, and sociable. cassie is ambitious, intelligent, and talkative. you laughed bitterly to yourself, realising that they all have similar traits- all really easy to talk to and would always have an on going conversation.
you couldn't even hold a conversation for more than four minutes. it feels like your fault now.
you sit alone the morning after. you usually sit with your 'friends' for breakfast, but you were hurt from yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. it was tiring, you needed break.
which caught the attention of a young gryffindor boy, sitting at the opposite end of the table.
remus lupin always thought you're the most beautiful person he ever saw. you two never talked, there's no reason to.
only his longing stares are the closest thing to interaction.
he thought you're beautiful. not the kind of beauty in magazines or billboards, but the kind of beauty that spreads through a field of mystical flowers. a kind that shines golden in daylight and a night fairy at late.
he saw the way you chew on your breakfast gloomily. he wondered why. you weren't spotted with your usual friends. you were just there. alone.
you would think of yourself as pathetic, but remus doesn't. he would never. he saw an angel-like soul that nobody's good enough to know. nobody's smart enough to notice.
he frowned when he saw you wiping away a tear before you got up, exiting the packed hall.
"frowning moony is not a safe moony," james said, quirking his eyebrows up.
"it's y/n, isn't it?" sirius questioned. the handsome man noticed how remus has been distracted from reality lately. he noticed how remus basically looks at you with heart eyes everytime.
"she looks sad today," remus noted, feeling an overwhelming sense of worry flooding him. it was funny to think about actually, you two never spoke a word to each other yet remus is worrying as if you're his.
"talk to her," james urged. "it's been- what was it? years of pining, you should make a move first because we all know she won't."
"i can't- y'know, my condition," remus huffed.
"she won't mind."
"how'd you know?"
"because- she is her...?" sirius said. "give it a try moony, if she doesn't love you with your condition then she doesn't deserve you, but if she does, it's worth it."
"right..."
that evening you sat down staring at an open window, catching your breath. you had been crying. you don't know why you're being so sensitive lately especially since your friends are always like this. why are you taking it so personal now?
you let the wind hit your face, drying your tears up with the cold breeze.
remus was on his nightly patrol around the castle. he's a prefect. that's how he heard a sniffle down the hall, his vision met with the most enchanting sight.
he walked slowly towards you, not wanting to scare. "hey... you alright?"
you turned around abruptly, wiping away the tears on your eyelashes. "i'm sorry for being out late."
"i'm not going to report you to professor mcgonagal, are you alright?" he asked once more.
"yeah, i'll be heading back to my dorm now," you collected yourself. the quiet footsteps didn't go unheard by you. remus was following you to the dorms.
"don't want filch to get you, i'll walk you there," he smiled a generous smile.
then silence fell between the two of you, only for remus to break it. "i know we're not friends but you can talk to me about it if you want, you can trust me," remus took hold of your upper arm, caressing it gently.
"thanks," was the only reply. you cringed at how short it sounded and he probably thinks you're rude and cold which is the opposite of who you are. your words aren't the best representation of yourself.
remus knew you were an introvert, hiding away from crowded rooms whenever you can. you never go to the parties his friends held. he knew you prefer reading to revelling.
he understands, he was once just like you. but with the help and support of his friends, he feels more comfortable in expressing himself now.
"will i see you tomorrow?" remus asked once you were inside the gryffindor common room.
"yeah, thank you- for not turning me in," you sent him an awkward smile.
the next day, you weren't in a better state either. you found out that cassie was talking horrible things about you with some slytherins. you weren't surprised. it was just your nature to constantly be disrespected by them.
remus saw you again that very day. your eyes were watery and your fingers were shaking.
he quickly ran up to you, his heart breaking into a million pieces. how dare someone did this to you?
"honey, you okay?" remus said, looking at you with the fondest eyes.
you almost cried again, hearing how someone actually asked you if you were okay. you shook your head in response.
"talk to me, we're friends," remus said softly. in reality, you two aren't technically friends. you only met face to face twice.
"we're friends?" you asked, feeling unsure.
"we are. from now on. now tell me who did this to you?"
"oh remus i can't," you shook your head.
"okay... but you can talk to me about anything okay? it doesn't have to be important. that's what friends are for," he smiled.
and oh when you smiled back, was like heaven to him. you looked like an ethereal angel with that divine smile and that archangelic face. he might as well fall in love right then and there.
the sparkles in your eyes that hold such loneliness and hope is what he calls beauty. the way you smiles even when you're sad just to assure him that you will be okay is heart warming. to him you weren't just beautiful for something as temporary as your face. you're beauty hides beneath that broken heart of yours, that delicate soul you have.
you opened up after a while, you feel you can trust remus. he is a calm and caring person. the way he asks 'how are you' every morning since. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder because he doesn't want to lose you in the sea of students. he cuts your breakfast so you can eat them easier. he reads to you softly when you cried again because of your friends.
he didn't know how much this has helped you to be okay again. how much you adored him for everything he does, even the questionable ones. you didn't care.
"rem, want to talk to you," you spoke, breaking his gaze from his book.
"i'm all ears, darling," he replied.
"you wanna know why i keep on crying?," you sniffed, ready to open up for the first time. "it's because- cause cassie, elina, and adrienne. they keep saying bad things about me- that you probably heard already. i used to always think we're friends, maybe not the kind like- you and me. but just friends... i guess. they keep leaving me out. it's like they don't even want me there." you were wiping tears away now, feeling unsure of yourself.
you never spoke of your feelings like this. never to anyone. how can remus made it so easy for you to be transparent to him?
"oh angel, they don't deserve you. they're too full of themselves to see how worthy you are. i think- i think you're the perfect just how you are. forget about them yeah? we will start a new beginning. you can come and sit with me from now on. no need to care about them. i will never make you sad, promise."
he pulled you to his chest, embracing you in a warm hug.
he made a promise to himself that every week, he will give you gifts and such to remind you how important you are. how much he loves and cares about you.
he couldn't let you waste your tears for your past friendship. remus treats you like a princess. he wants to make you smile. seeing you happy is what matters most because a dream girl should live in a dreamworld. and he made it a mission to make a perfect world for you.
he remembered you saying how those girls never invited you to picnics so here he is, inviting you to join the picnic he has set just for you and him.
"oh rem, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done!" you sighed, sitting yourself down on the carpet.
"it's nothing! you deserve it," he smiled proudly, pouring you and himself a cup of chamomile tea. your favourite.
there's something sparkling in your wrist. the shine of it glimmering under the perfect weather. you were wearing a bracelet remus gave to you a few days ago. a pretty silver chain with a moon and angel wings intertwined together.
when he first saw the jewelery on the display, it immediately reminded him of you so he just had to buy two of them. a matching bracelet.
god, nobody has ever even given you a friendship bracelet before.
he saw you, picking up the fresh strawberries with your delicate hands. 'what a dreamy girl' he thought 'and to have an angel like her to call my own'
he wanted to kiss you right there. everything was perfect at the moment. the soft honey rays of the sunshine warms the air surrounding the two of you, there's no reason for remus to scoot over closer to your figure. but he did anyways.
"i like a girl, no i actually love her," he started.
your heart sank, you thought maybe-just maybe remus is the one. he pulled you right out of misery in the best way.
remus saw your crestfallen expression, though he continued, "she makes my heart jump. she's the girl i've been in love with for a long time, i wanna go wherever she goes."
you forced a smile at him, munching on your strawberry that suddenly turned sour.
"she gets sad often, but that doesn't stop her from taking care of the people around her, and herself. she's smart and wise. she inspires me actually. everytime we say goodnight, i go to bed and sleep happily. dreaming of happy thoughts because when she's around, there's no negativity."
"i love her- y/n," he said, hinting at the way he emphasised your name.
"can i know who she is?" you asked shyly.
"can you guess?"
"i don't know..."
"well, i see her everytime," remus said, a smile playing on his lips.
"you see a lot of people everyday," you replied.
"i said everytime not everyday," he chuckled.
"that's not possible!"
"it is actually. i could never get tired of her. anyone is crazy if they do," he shook his head. "okay.. she smells like the most cosiest bakery in town."
"i don't think i know anyone that smells like a bakery."
"of course you don't, darling," remus said, cupping your cheeks. "'cause it's you. i'm in love with you,"
"wha- me?" you knitted your brows. he caressed them away.
"yes you, it's obvious actually. i thought you knew," remus chucked. "i don't have matching bracelets with anyone else, i never go on picnics, i never crochet someone a sweater before, i could go on but i want to hear what you have to say."
"i love you too, it's inevitable," you said, rubbing your cheeks further on his palms.
"can i kiss you?" he asked. he always considered himself a gentleman and he will be the most gentlemanly when it comes to you.
you responded with a soft nod, then he pressed his lips against yours. slowly but surely, he felt you melting in the kiss and god does that feel way more magical than the daydreams he had about this. his tongue manoeuvred its way inside your mouth, meeting yours in a soft touch that sent shivers down your spine. he loves the way you taste, licking the remnants of strawberry juice in your mouth.
he placed his hand on the back of your head while the other wrapped itself around waist, making you impossibly closer to him.
you didn't know how long that lasted but when you pulled away, the both of your cheeks were bright red and the smiles couldn't be wiped away.
2K notes · View notes
roguelov · 6 months
Text
Sleepless Night
Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first
Word Count: ~ 4k
Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)
Warning: SMUT (oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), light exhibition (outside at night), voyeurism, inexperienced!Sanji)
Part 2
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MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY
The late night breeze rippled across the obsidian glasslike sea. The ship, the Going Merry, was gently rocked like a baby in a cradle. The moon and stars glittered across the sky, guiding those to the land of dreams. It was a calm night, a peaceful night.
Yet, one soul was awake.
Sanji leaned his forearms on the railing, overlooking the sea staring off into the horizon. The sky and sea almost seamlessly blended together. A cigarette lazily hung from his fingertips. The salty water misted in the air, mixing with the light smoke. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet nicotine swirled around, filling his chest. Tipping his head back, he exhaled slowly. His usually pristine suit was exchanged for sweatpants and a plain shirt. The chilly air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed it. Everything about tonight should lull a person to sleep, and have them running to be tucked nicely under the covers, yet he was wide awake.
The only one, or so he thought.
“You know those things can kill you.”
Sanji immediately smiled to himself. He laughed once, then glanced over to you. You strolled up beside him, sporting similar pajamas. Another sign you both should be asleep, you were dressed for it. You leaned your arms onto the railing, mimicking his stance.
“Is that so?” He quipped. “I’m sure a few won’t kill me before the Grand Line.”
“No,” you tilted your head in thought. “But, I might if I see you light another one.”
Sanji dipped his head, leaning in close to you. The smoke wafted off of him, a smell which always lingered around him. A smell which stirred such conflicting emotions in you. A devilish smirk danced over his lips. “Are you threatening me, sweetheart?”
You let out a bark of laughter and matched his smirk. “Definitely.”
You quickly snatched his cigarette then flicked it out into the sea. Sanji blinked, stunned for a moment. “I still had some left,” he mumbled, disappointedly. He shook his head, then smiled back at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip, “So, why are you up so late?”
“Couldn’t sleep, you?”
“Same,” you sighed, leaning heavily into the railing. It was just one of those nights, your mind and body were at war with each other.
Sanji smirked, “Bet I could make you tired.”
You snorted, playing into this game of yours. “Yeah? Do you think you could keep up with me?”
“Oh! Well, look at you,” he chuckled. “I certainly will try. What do you say, love? Should we give it a go?”
This was your normal relationship with Sanji. The light teasing, the flirtatious comments; well, him more than you. Sanji’s silver tongue was far faster and sweeter than your own. Yet, you never thought it was nothing else but some simply fun.
Or you thought it was just for him.
Maybe it was because the two of you were alone, maybe it was because you knew you would probably just crawl back to your bed unable to sleep the rest of the night, maybe it was because he looked so unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight, you wanted to push it tonight. Normally, you would have dropped it by now. You would both laugh, and pretend nothing happened. Only for these same heart pounding scenarios to happen over and over.
Yet, a voice called out: your buried desires for the cook.
You wanted to test where the boundary in the sand was drawn between the two of you. Was it only games? Was there some truth behind his words? With the rest of the crew sleeping, you had to take your chance now.
Staring unwaveringly into his dazzling blue eyes, you said, “And if I say yes? What then?”
Sanji blinked, taken back. He opened his mouth and muttered utterly confused, “Wait, what?”
Don’t turn back now.
“I said -“
“No, no, I heard you. It’s just I, uh, I didn’t really expect you to ever answer with a yes.”
You cocked your head. Sanji’s smooth, wicked tongue was failing him. This was a side you never thought you would see, let alone a side he had. His words then replayed in your head, making you question a few things. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Sanji was handsome, sweet, kind, a great friend and cook. Only a fool would say no to him.
And a fool you were for a long time.
He licked his lips, glancing away. “I, uh, I don’t know -“ he fiddled with his hands, wishing desperately you didn’t toss away his cigarette - “I just never thought you would or if … if …”
His voice trailed off.
Your eyebrows knitted together. You stared more and more, watching him with confusion while he oddly retreated within himself. Under the moonlight, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. His eyes widened, actively avoiding your gaze. He fidgeted in place, picking at his nails or part of the banister.
He was so nervous, so unlike him, almost as if -
Realization finally struck you.
“Oh - oh!” You twisted around to face him directly. There was no way to beat around the bush, you just had to ask him. “Sanji, have you ever been with anyone before?”
He tensed up at your question. You hit the nail square on the head. He sighed, dropping his shoulders. Was there any real point in hiding it now? “I may or may not have been busy with the Baratie and the old man, never had much time to myself.”
“Really?”
You would have never guessed. You would have assumed he had flings almost every night with the constant stream of customers. A new love, a new interest, with every ship that came in.
“Yes,” he groaned. Shame and embarrassment bubbled up inside of him. He may talk a big game, but he had nothing to back it up.
“Hey.” You gently rested your hand on his arm. His attention dropped to your hand then up to your kind face. “I’m not judging you, I don’t care honestly. I’m just surprised because you’re just so - so … flirty? Sauve? You’re just really good with your words.”
Even if he can be a bit cheesy at times.
Sanji laughed through his nose. “I find words are easier, sweetheart.”
You smiled at him, so endearing and sweet. His heart skipped at such a loving sight. “I don’t blame you, people can be a bit more complex,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.
He smiled softly in return, then glanced away. You both looked back out towards the sea. Sanji still naturally leaned into you, seeking out your warmth and comfort. Despite it all, nothing seemed to truly change. He was still Sanji, and you were still you.
Or so it seemed.
You, on the other hand, were now utterly restless. An idea was planted inside your head. One you couldn’t quite ignore. You bit your lip, nervously.
Where is the line? And do I dare keep pushing it?
“Sanji?”
He hummed, almost absentmindedly.
“Could … could I be your first?”
“What?” He whipped his head towards you.
“We don’t have to go all the way, I thought maybe I could just …”
How could you word this? You didn’t want to be harshly blunt and possibly frighten him.
“Just to start off small, I was thinking maybe I could … suck you off?”
You winced internally. That wasn’t entirely smooth. But, like you said, Sanji was better with words than you were.
He gulped, gawking at you. His quick fire mouth silenced for once. How could he say no? Why would he say no? To be his first, it was almost like a dream. Excited nerves sparked across his growing hot skin. His heart pounded feverishly in his chest, and he licked his lips trying to find his voice again.
“Are … are you sure?” He asked in a soft dazed whisper.
You smiled. “Sanji, I don’t mind but this is about you. Do you want this?”
“Yes,” he breathed out, without needing a second thought.
He wanted this, he wanted you. He wanted you the moment he saw you, but he never thought such fantasies could become reality.
“Good,” you whispered. You slowly sank to your knees in front of him.
“Out here?” He whispered out in surprise.
“Why not? Everyone else is asleep, and we’re at the back of the ship so no one should see us.”
His body buzzed. “Are you sure?”
You glanced up at him for a moment. Nerves were written so plainly all over his face. Maybe, this is a bit too much. “Sanji, we can go inside if you want. This is about you so -“
“Out here is good.”
You blinked, shocked by his quick change. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be comfortable.”
“Yeah,” he sighed then smiled. Honestly, the place didn’t matter. He just wanted you. But, out here on the deck, oh it sent a pleasant chill down his spine. “I’m sure, love.”
“Okay then,” you nodded.
You situated yourself, ensuring Sanji’s back leaned into the railing while you sat on your knees before him. Your hands skimmed up his thighs, just dipping your toe into the water. And yet, Sanji shook slightly under the simple touch.
“Relax, Sanji.”
“Sweetheart, I’m trying but - oh my god, you look so - so -“
Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.
You peered up at him with adoration. Yet, a sinful darkness swept over your features. A viper-like smile crossed over your lips. You couldn’t hold back your desires. Seeing him stuttering, so unlike his usual composed self, was absolutely thrilling. You chuckled at his rosy tinted cheeks and ears.
“What happened? You’re usually so good with your words,” you teased, running your hands up and down his thighs.
His knees nearly buckled. You hadn’t even truly done anything, but any touch left his body dizzy. He was trapped in a whirlwind of building desires. “Hard to think when you’re looking up at me like that,” he mumbled.
You hummed, smirking to yourself. “Well? Can I take these off?” You snapped the band of his sweatpants, almost making him jump.
Sanji didn’t trust his voice for once. He simply nodded.
“Wonderful,” you purred.
You carefully tugged down the sweatpants, revealing a wet spot on his boxers. You bit your lip. You hadn’t begun, and yet he was already turned on. It fueled your ego a bit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You promised.
But, you would also have your fun along the way.
You softly blew on the wet patch. Sanji’s hands grabbed the railing, holding it in a crushing white-knuckling grip. He swallowed, and groaned very softly.
How was he going to last?
You kissed directly over the patch.
Sanji shoved a fist into his mouth, forcing back an awfully loud moan.
You slowly slid down his boxers, and his cock sprung out. You shivered at the sight of it. To say the cook was packing was an understatement. You snuck a glance up at him. He looked adorable. No, appetizing. His cheeks were flushed, and a hand covered his mouth preventing any wayward sounds. He was fighting back against his own desires, but you desperately wanted the cook to lose control. You wanted to see this side of him, to see pleasure wrought into every inch of his body.
And to know you were the first made it all the more delicious.
Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. Sanji fiercely but his lip, trying to keep calm. Your thumb brushed over his red, swollen tip, gathering up precum. You gave him a few soft and teasingly slow pumps. Sanji tipped his head back, falling under your spell. His hand slid from his mouth, latching onto the railing. Your hands were far better than his own.
You then swept the flat of your tongue over his swollen tip. He bit down on his lip harshly, almost about to draw blood. His eyes squeezed so tight, losing a part of himself with every passing second.
“Fucking hell,” he hissed out.
You chuckled, mischievously. Teasing him was so easy now. His reactions were delightful, and spurred your own growing desires.
Your tongue ran up the underneath of his cock. He slapped his hand over his mouth, groaning into his palm. Then, you peppered kisses up and down. With each kiss - each sweet butterfly kiss - he became more and more vocal.
If only you could hear it so clearly.
Kissing his tip one last time, your lips finally wrapped around him and took him inch by inch. Your tongue glided along his base, tasting him and feeling the weight of him. Taking all of him, you held him in your mouth for a second before slowly pulling back. You repeated the movements, slow and steady. A teasing pace, or a way to warm him up to it.
Your eyes flickered up, eager to see all of his reactions.
His eyebrows were pinched together in pleasure. His soft pants could not be completely silenced by his hand. While, the other held firmly onto the railing. He needed stability, he needed support.
You removed your mouth completely. You reached over, gently grabbing his hand on the railing and guiding to the top of your head. “Here,” you encouraged. “You can keep your hand here, and tug on my hair if you want.”
He peered down at you like some dazzling treasure. “I - really? Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
You laughed lightly. Your hands wrapped around his thighs. “You can’t hurt me. Besides -“ you threw him a wicked smirk - “maybe I want you to hurt me.”
Fuck.
He could have came right there.
“You’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he muttered in awe.
You winked, then chuckled darkly. You quickly took him in your mouth again, setting a faster pace. Your tongue swirled and grazed along him. Your fingernails dug into his thighs, eager to do all you can for him.
And dear god, you were.
Sanji was losing himself. Pleasure was filling his veins, and blood rushed in his ears. He was becoming wildly desperate for his release. His hips bucked once, unconsciously chasing his high.
You groaned, feeling his tip kiss the back of your throat.
Sanji flinched, and froze in place. Has he hurt you? He grunted, forcing himself to stay still and enjoy it.
You pulled away with a pop.
Sanji nearly whined.
“Don’t hold back,” you said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind if you move your hips.”
‘You can fuck my face,’ you almost said. However, you tried your best to be a little tame.
Sanji’s heart nearly bursted. He nodded, humming in response.
“Good.” You kissed his tip, and Sanji almost fell backwards into the sea. “Because if anything was wrong, I would tell you. Now, enjoy yourself.”
Your lips wrapped around his cock. Your head bobbed up and down again. Sanji bucked his hips again. You hummed, encouraging him.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He was panting heavily. His head fell forward, watching you. Your lips covered in spit, wrapped so perfectly around him. It was a sight he never thought would happen. Your eyes locked with his. His hair clung to his forehead. His eyes had pooled into the sinful black, and sweat glistened along his skin.
He hasn’t looked more beautiful until now.
You hummed. He hissed then moaned softly. His lovely lips were now an incoherent mess.
He gasped, “Love, I - I -“
He choked on his words. He couldn’t form a thought, let alone a full sentence.
But, you understood. His cock twitched in your mouth. He was close. You wanted to whisper to him, to whispering loving praises in his ear. ‘Come for me, Sanji’, or ‘you’re doing so good’ but perhaps another time.
He moaned, and leaned heavily back into the railing. He could barely keep himself upright anymore. He rocked his hips, matching your pace. He tugged on your hair, drawing you closer. Your nose brushed against his abdomen with each thrust. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to use you.
You moaned, loudly.
This was all so hot.
His head fell back, mumbling your name over and over. This was heavenly. You were heavenly. This was better than he dreamt over, far better knowing you were the one doing such things.
God, he was already imagining other things. He wanted fuck you, he wanted to make love with you, he wanted to have you on the counter, he wanted to see you riding him, he wanted to try it all. He wanted to do it all with you.
“Please,” he whimpered. He wanted this to last forever, but the pleasure was too much. “Can - can I come in your mouth?”
You moaned a ‘yes’.
That was all he needed.
He came down your throat, moaning out your name. You hummed, taking it all. Sanji glanced down at you with heavy eyes. He panted loudly, gulping down air. Ever so slowly, he released his intense grip on your hair. His legs shook slightly reeling from all of this.
Peering up at him, you pulled away then opened your mouth. His cum sat on your tongue. He whimpered faintly, utterly spent and in awe. You gladly swallowed it with a devious smirk.
His reaction was priceless.
You pulled up his boxers and pants. Standing up, you patted his chest, feeling his chaotic heart race under your fingertips. A swell of pride surged through you. You opened your mouth to ask if he liked it, when he swiftly grabbed your face kissing you.
Your eyes widened, but instantly fell into him.
His tongue slipped past your lips, drawing out your wondrous sinful sounds and desires. He could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned.
Fuck, he thought.
He pushed off the railing, flipping you around. Your lower back dug into the wood, but you didn’t mind. Your hands wandered up his chest into his hair. Your fingers tangled into the blonde locks, tugging on them softly. He moaned against your lips. He nipped on your bottom lip, loving your small gasps.
“Please,” he murmured against your lips. “Please, I want to return the favor.”
His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your hips. He drew you close to him. You grinded softly against him. A small, sweet moan fell off your lips.
Sanji was greedy for more.
You had only given him a tasting, he now wanted the meal.
“I … I want to … please,” he begged again.
He was already sinking down to his knees. His fingers dug into your thighs, bunching up your sweatpants. Your heart pounded in your chest as you bit your lip. Just as he thought earlier, why would you say no? Even if he was inexperienced, you didn’t care.
“Okay, okay,” you mumbled, shakily.
His eyes twinkled with glee, like a kid in a candy store. You hastily kicked off your sweatpants, and about to remove your underwear -
“Let me.”
Sanji’s hands stopped yours. You froze then nodded, letting go. You wanted him to try and take charge, to see what he would do.
Sanji hummed. He slowly pulled down your underwear. He was entranced. His fingers delicately traced down your thighs and legs being as gentle as possible. As he brought them down, you stepped out of them. Sanji placed them with your sweatpants. Glancing back, he groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his lips.
His breath on your dripping folds made you shiver. You were immensely turned on by all of this. But, it was the hunger in his eyes that made you weak. Such hunger and want. He wanted to please you in any capacity, he wanted to be good for you.
Holy shit.
“Sanji,” you breathed out. “Can - can I -“
“Do whatever you need to, love.”
“I just want to -“ you carefully hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned backwards using the railing and Sanji for support.
He firmly grabbed your thigh, thrilled by this. He turned his head, kissing all over your thigh. Up and down, up and down, until he trail led back to where you needed him. You shivered, tipping your head back.
“Sanji,” you sighed.
“What do you need? Tell me what to do,” he purred, buzzing with excitement.
“Your tongue, your tongue, I -“
His tongue quickly swept through your folds. You groaned. His mouth latched itself onto you, swirling around. His tongue was like utter magic. You supposed you should have known from the kiss. Sanji knew how to work his tongue, he had experience in that field. All he needed was a little guidance and encouragement elsewhere.
“Higher,” you gasped. “Go higher.”
His mouth moved. His lips wrapped around your clit and you whined.
“Right there, fuck,” you hissed.
Sanji hummed.
For a brief moment, you saw stars. He sucked on your clit, feeling your thigh twitch. Sanji groaned at the thought of both of your thighs wrapped around his head.
Another time, he swore to himself.
His tongue slowly swirled around again, lapping up your juices. His movements were hesitant, yet with each of your sighs and praises he grew more and more confident. Every sound was music to his ears. Sanji pulled away. He stared up at you breathless. His chin coated in your juices. He wanted to savor this moment.
Savor you.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbled. Your eyes dropped down to him. He smiled softly with such a boyish charm. “You are absolutely stunning.”
You laughed once, shaking your head. It seemed he had his silver tongue back. Sanji dived back in. His tongue parted your folds, curling around, and pushing inside of you. You moaned. Your fingers tangled into his hair.
“Fuck, Sanji,” you hummed.
Your foul mouth only encouraged him.
With his hand still on your thigh, he tugged you forward. His nose brushed against your clit. You gasped. Pleasure shot through you. You whimpered as your hips unconsciously bucked forward again.
More. You wanted more.
Your heel dug into his back, and you yanked on his hair. Sanji moaned, sending sweet loving vibrations throughout you. “Keeping going, Sanji, just like that.”
Sanji listened perfectly. He devoured you.
Fuck, he’s a natural.
Just with your gentle guidance, and your soft moans, Sanji had quickly learned your body. His tongue swept against your folds again and again. You moaned, almost pornographically. You rode his face, bucking your hips against his wondrous tongue.
You were panting as your pleasure built and built. “Fuck, Sanji, I’m about to come.”
He whined, “Oh, please, sweetheart.”
His fingers dug into your thigh. His lips wrapped around your clit, hearing your sweet sharp inhales. All your weight fell into the railing. You gasped, chanting Sanji’s name over and over. Your eyes squeezed shut, and finally let go, let pleasure consume you. You cried out his name. Sanji moaned as you came all over him. He greedily lapped up everything, not daring to waste a single drop.
He carefully pulled away, and your leg slid off his shoulder. He stood up, and cupped your face. He kissed you passionately once more. His expert tongue slid inside, making you taste him and yourself.
“Fuck,” you mumbled into the kiss.
Your knees were weak. You clung to his arms, humming into the kiss. Sanji slowly broke the kiss, enjoying your soft whines of protests. Both of you were panting, filling up the quiet still night.
Sanji chuckled once. “So? How did I do, sweetheart? Tired yet?”
You may have created a monster.
You blinked, then shook your head. You smirked, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, unless you’re tired.”
He wrapped an arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”
I want to keep going, I want to have it all, he thought. Besides, what meal isn’t better without some dessert?
2K notes · View notes
seradyn · 1 month
Text
Fruit of Our Labor
Summary: Tav accidentally calls Astarion ‘pumpkin’ in a moment of thoughtlessness. What follows is a gentle baring of souls neither could have anticipated.
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Pure tooth rotting fluff. Set in late act 1 although the relationship is much closer to where it is in act 2, but fuck it, we ball.
Also happy Valentine’s Day, this wasn’t meant to be a valentine’s fic but I just so happened to get a surge of motivation to finish it today so here we are.
Word count: 2944
Warnings: references to abuse
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It slipped out one night, while you were all sat around the fire.
The others were busy dividing up the spoils from the day’s adventures - equipment and coin passed around to those who needed it. A hearty stew, courtesy of Gale, sat warmly in your bellies, staving off the night’s chill while packs were passed around over idle chatter. The fire crackled and popped in the center of camp, but it was drowned out by the sounds of Scratch’s excited barks and the owlbear’s deep coos. They were roughhousing, no doubt.
You watched your companions fondly from your place curled up on Astarion’s lap, held snugly to his chest in a loose embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows that smelled of him, you felt pleasantly warm, despite his cold skin. He held a book out in front of you both, resting his chin on your head as he read, the rustle of pages being turned soothing you. You were sure if he was still alive, you could hear the gentle thumping of his heart beneath your ear, lulling you into a blissful sleep.
The evenings you two spent together, wrapped up in each other's scents, your shared warmth, had become a balm to your taxed souls. Some days it was all that kept you going, the promise of being soothed, comforted in a way that eased your wounds, either to your flesh or to your heart. His voice was a spell, his touch an enchantment, and you found yourself unable to resist his charms. He’d made you laugh on more occasions than you could count with his silver tongue, and his deep seductive purrs sent shivers to places you dare not name. Yes, you’d fallen for him. Hard.
Yet, you knew Astarion felt much the same way about you, even if he couldn’t admit it. You heard the soft sighs that parted his lips, saw the smiles that were real, like he’d glimpsed a piece of heaven, and it sat curled in his lap. The rays of sunlight he’d come to crave couldn’t hold a candle to your warmth, his undead body soaking it up greedily every time you were close. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being embraced by the sun, with your voice a whisper on her gentle lips. He could never get enough of it. Of you.
It had taken many moons before Astarion was comfortable displaying this much affection openly. He kept the truth of his feelings close to his breast to protect himself, and from what he told you, you couldn’t say you blamed him. In his old life, before the mindflayers, affection was weakness, caring was weakness. And weakness was unacceptable, not for Cazador. He allowed no such things for his spawn, and if he found it, it would be corrected through nights of agonized bloodshed.
So you held Astarion’s hand as he learned. He was no stranger to intimacy, to late nights spent on his back, but this…this was all so very new to him. What was to hold hands, to hug, to cuddle? He may have known once, but that had been left in his grave, delivered from him by that kiss of death. You took care to remind him it was okay to take things slow, to not jump into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. You were patient. All you wanted was him to be happy, after all. Even if you weren’t sure he knew that, or would believe you if you told him.
Despite being his beloved partner, though, Astarion was still Astarion after all, and you found yourself on the end of no small amount of teasing. He always loved calling you pet names, clicking his tongue with a smirk as he purred ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’; a spider spinning a web around his unsuspecting prey. As much as it wounded your pride to admit it, you quite liked being his prey. You offered up your neck with growing delight, stifling moans and shudders each night he fed.
He enjoyed teasing you about that, too, much to your chagrin.
You weren’t going to let him have all the fun, though. Words were easy to coat in honey, and soon the whole camp rolled their eyes as you two bantered like a love sick couple. Worst of all was the pet names, which you two shot back at each other like arrows at waring rivals. ‘Little star’ made Astarion scowl in that oh so adorable way, while ‘honey’ had him preening proudly. It was fun, it was easy, and it made the unspoken emotions between you two easier to ignore.
Until it didn’t.
Once supplies had been distributed, the camp began discussing the plan for the following day. Moonrise Towers loomed far off in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, your fates locked behind its black gates. Your group would need to pick up the pace if you wanted to arrive within the next fortnight. But Lae’zel was adamant - she needed to visit the nearby crèche, and made it clear she would venture to it with or without company. She was stubborn as a mule, and Shadowheart was more than happy to seize the opportunity to lock horns with her.
You sighed as you watched the growing argument unfold. Those two could fight over the color of the sky, and somehow it always fell to you to make them see reason. Gale and Karlach tried desperately to keep things under control, but even Wyll had no luck with them. Halsin watched with a frown on his face, but knew intervening was futile. They listened to you - you weren’t sure why, but they did.
You felt Astarion turn his head towards the commotion, pursing his lips in annoyance. Normally, he delighted in conflict, especially between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but now that he knew it would mean your own involvement, having you snatched away ruined any enjoyment he may have found in it.
“And what does our charismatic little leader think we should do?” He whispered, hoping it would distract you from your duties. You decided to let it too, burying yourself deeper into his chest, sighing deeply his scent of bergamot and rosemary. You did not want to deal with their bickering right now. You had yet to fight off a drowsiness that crept over you while you lounged in his lap, which was the only explanation you could think of for what you said next.
“We’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings, pumpkin.”
“Pumpkin?!” Astarion stiffened beneath you, a scowl appearing on his face as the tranquil atmosphere dissolved. You blinked at the clear offense in his tone, leaning back to gaze at his disgruntled expression, worry set in your own features.
“Excuse me, darling, but what exactly do I have in common with some unsightly gourd?” He huffed indignantly. The camp quieted from his outburst, several heads turning in your direction. They were wise enough to not interfere, though.
Ah, he thought it was a comment on his appearance, you realized with a sinking feeling. Astarion was sensitive to such things, as he’d shown when you learned he’d been unable to see himself since he turned. It was something he took pride in, one of the only things he could well and truly call his own. You hadn’t meant it that way, of course, but you weren’t surprised that’s how he took it, given his history. He hadn’t been overly enthused when you commented on his lovely laugh lines, or the adorable beauty mark just below his left eye, to put it mildly, and now you’d compared him to a lumpy, often deformed fruit. Guilt poked at your heart for your thoughtlessness.
“You have many things in common with pumpkins,” you said calmly. Perhaps he could see the compliment in it yet. He flared his nostrils, but you pressed on before he could protest. “They’re vibrant, beautiful, and tough on the outside, just like you.” You booped his nose playfully. “But they’re also soft, delicious, and wonderful on the inside, just like you.”
Astarion remained tense as he stared at you, scanned you, like a hawk does the calm fields for a stray mouse. The wrinkling of his nose furrowed his brow, and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean up to kiss his doubts away. His gaze slowly began to soften, a smirk spreading across his face.
“Well, I suppose when you put it that way, perhaps we do have some similarities,” he admitted with a huff. Relief flooded your veins as he settled back into the cushions, inviting you back into his lap once he was comfortable. He looped an arm around your waist, holding you close with a gentle squeeze - a silent thank you for the unexpected compliment.
Soon it was decided; you would be taking Lae’zel to see her kin the following day. There were grumbles here and there about acquiescence to the warrior’s demands, but you made it clear she was your ally as much as any of them. With plans made and bellies full, most retired to their tents, intent on getting some rest. You found yourself settling in Astarion’s, naturally. Honestly, you sometimes wondered why you bothered to put up your own tent at all. Even your small collection of books had come to join his, stacked unorganized in a corner. You carefully plucked one from the tower, sitting down with it as Astarion continued to fuss with the various blankets strewn about.
Eventually, you felt him settle, a contented sigh parting his lips. You peeked at him over the top of your book, and was surprised to find his eyes on you.
“So…about that, little pet name…” he began, his voice a low purr. You felt your cheeks flush a lovely crimson as you lowered your book, you weren’t sure if from embarrassment or from his tone.
“Ah - I’m sorry, my love,” you said sheepishly. Perhaps he was still upset about it. “I didn’t mean to say it.”
“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” he said, catching you off guard.
He wasn’t upset?
“I only hope you’ll try to refrain from calling me such things in front of our companions,” He explained. “I do have a reputation to uphold.” Another smirk spread across his face.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Appearances were very important to Astarion, and though you couldn’t say you understood it, you would respect his boundaries. “‘Course ‘Star, I’ll be more careful next time.”
“Good,” he hummed, planting a soft kiss on your temple. Your lips spread in an involuntary smile as you returned to your book, a calmness returning to the tent. Though, Astarion was rarely happy with silence, and you noticed him still hovering on the edge of your periphery.
“You know,” he drawled, ducking his head to catch your gaze. You locked eyes with him, those beautiful rubies, getting lost in how they nearly glowed in the dim light.
“You do call me an awful lot of pet names, darling. Why not settle on one?”
You lowered your book again, setting it aside to grant him your full attention. “And pass up the chance to tell you all the different ways I find you beautiful? I think not.”
Astarion seemed taken aback momentarily by your answer, before he quickly recovered, puffing out his chest and smirking pridefully.
“Darling, you’re allowed to just call me beautiful,” he said, examining his nails. “I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing it more.”
It was barely detectable, but you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your smile faltered. Astarion told you enough about his past for you to know how his looks had been twisted for his master’s use; put on display and paraded around like a beloved doll. Early on in your relationship, he had made it clear he thought your interest in him stemmed from that alone, his looks. It was all he’d ever known, all anyone wanted him for. It was natural for him to believe you were the same.
You vowed to yourself that you would always make sure to remind him that was not the reason you pursued him. Yes, he was handsome, that fact was undeniable, but it was not what led you to seek him out, what had led to your trysts that turned into something more. You made a promise to always remind him of that, no matter how long it took until he believed it.
“My love…” you said softly, the words falling easily from your lips as you grabbed his free hand and held it close to your chest. Astarion stiffened at the sudden contact, and you paused, allowing him to pull away if he so desired. He never did though, and you took that as a sign to continue, placing gentle kisses on the back of his knuckles. You had to hide a smile when you felt the tension ooze from his muscles. “There are so many things about you that are beautiful, simply saying it would be an injustice.”
Astarion’s eyes widened slightly, and they scanned you for any hint of deceit, any hint of motive behind your words. You smiled warmly at him, hoping he could see all the love and adoration you poured into it.
“I think it’s beautiful when you get excited whenever you snatch a coin purse out of someone’s pocket. It’s beautiful when you tell me about the books you’re reading, and when you pout whenever Gale opens his mouth.”
Astarion let out a sharp laugh at that. He made no secret of his distaste for the wizard.
“But most of all, I think it’s beautiful when you laugh, because I think, even for just that little moment, I get to see you happy. So yes, that’s why all the pet names. Because not one of them could fully capture how beautiful you really are.”
“Darling…” he whispered, sounding almost breathless. He sat up a touch, his hand coming up to delicately cup your cheek, his thumb gliding across your skin reverently. He leaned forward, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips ghosted across your own. The kiss was soft and delicate, gentle in a way you knew he reserved only for you. Similarly, you hoped he could feel how much you cared for him in the way you moved your mouth against his.
When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling as you held each other close.
“What did I do to deserve you?”
His voice was barely above a whisper, and your heart cracked at hearing the pain etched into it, the disbelief. What didn’t you do to deserve happiness, you wondered, but you knew how he would respond. 200 years of luring people back to a cruel master, a cruel fate, and you knew why he had to ask.
You remembered something he’d said, when you asked him about Cazador and his past. Something that made your chest ache, like it was now.
It was about time those memories were replaced.
“You existed. That was enough for me.”
You could tell he recognized them, his own words. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he heard them echoed back at him. You smiled then, pouring all the unsung emotions into that expression. You hoped he could see it, how your heart beat for him.
And maybe he did, for he quickly pulled you into a nearly crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck. He breathed deeply your scent, your essence, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear should he let go. He couldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure his undead heart could take it.
You returned his embrace, sighing as you felt him relax into your form. You absentmindedly began rubbing circles into his back with the pads of your fingers, tracing the outline of his scars with unconditional reverence. You liked to imagine yourself massaging away some of the pain and torment of his unlife whenever you got the privilege to hold him like this. It made you both feel a little better.
Soon enough though, your body began to sag from exhaustion, the events of your tumultuous journey catching up with you. You leaned out of Astarion’s embrace, earning a slight pout from him, but you quickly assuaged his worries by placing a gentle kiss below his ear.
“We should get some rest,” you murmured, and he hummed in agreement. You laid down across your shared bedroll, opening your arms invitingly for him. He eagerly curled up over you, resting his head on your chest with a sound almost like a purr. Your arms returned around him, one hand coming up to delicately card through his silky curls, massaging his scalp as you closed your eyes.
It was moments like these you had to bite your tongue from saying the words that had begun to echo deep in the cavity of your chest. You called each other ‘love’ in teasing, but outright saying those blasted three words still frightened both of you. Even though you felt it every time you looked at him these days, your heart soaring as easily as an eagle flies, your very veins filled with nothing but adoration. But, you knew he wasn’t ready. He was still navigating the turbulent sea of his past, his present, and the rapidly approaching future. You had no desire to push him beyond what was comfortable for him.
So you would wait. You would wait until he was ready to love you. Ready to be loved. You didn’t mind, really.
You would wait an eternity for him.
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First Astarion fic lets go. Will probably write more in the future, but will also probably focus on my long fic for another game first. Either way hope you enjoy 💕
967 notes · View notes
kelstey · 2 months
Text
i waited
theodore nott x reader
warnings : none
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❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
theo kissed your forehead, both you bodies sticky and sweaty from the moments prior. you smiled to yourself as his muscular arms made their way around you.
"i don't think i'll ever get over how beautiful you are," theo ran his fingers through yourhair.
"thank you, theo," you turned your head and kissed his lips.
your happiness was quickly replaced by a sudden wave of what felt like guilt and shame.
the two of you had always been close, sharing kisses, looks, even touching when no oneelse would be looking. that part killed you.
no one knew. not even pansy and luna. given, luna may not be accepted by a large majority of slytherins but you couldn't help but love her, she was amazing and understood you in a way no one else did.
that's how private the two of you had decided- well improvised on. you wanted to show him off. you wanted to kiss him before class, hold hands when sat next to each other, dance in front of everyone, everything.
but he didn't want that. he liked the privacy. but you were never sure if that was really a cover for simply using you.
but you let him.
"i should get going, i'm going out with luna to the three broomsticks," you moved out of theo's arms and started picking up the clothes that were discarded all over the room after theo ripped them off of you.
"tell her i said hi," theo said, another thing that you liked about him. he liked luna. but he was partially stupid as you couldn't tell luna that he said hi, she would ask questions as to why he would even do that.
"i think you forgot we are a secret," you put your tights on.
"fuck, yeah. well- have fun then," theo waved and you hurried out, still attempting to tie your tie.
you felt the tears coming. you couldn't help it. you felt idiotic to allow theo to walk all over you. you promised yourself you would never let a man take you for a fool, but no. here you are, years later, being taken as a fool by a man you were in love with.
obviously he didn't know, he couldn't. it would ruin everything.
the two of you agreed to strictly have just sex. just sex. just stupid fucking amazing sex. he was a natural at it, he knew how to make you cum in minutes. he had you wrapped around his finger.
you typically wouldn't let anyone see or touch you, but theo? he could do anything and you would let him. it also felt like a weird bonding experience.
sex is intimate, of course. it's the closest two souls can get to each other. and you were convinced that the countless amount of times you did it in a day with him made some sort of connection.
you wiped your tears away as you entered the three broomsticks and saw luna sat alone in your usual corner. "luna!"
"you're here!" she exclaimed and got up out of her seat to hug you.
"of course, you know i love our chats here," you smiled and the two of you sat down.
"are you okay?" she asked as she observed the mascara which was evidently smudged under your eyes.
you had to tell her. you had to tell someone. there's no one you would rather tell than her. "luna, please, pinky promise me you won't ever tell a soul."
she nodded, "your secret is safe with me. you know that."
you looked around the place, only noticing two other tables of people who seemed to be in their own little worlds. "okay, me and theo have been hooking up. like friends with benefits style, but i'm in love with him. i cant keep doing this. it hurts, luna. i want to love him and kiss him around our friends but i can't."
luna sat and listened to you ramble on, a few tears shedding in the process. "that's horrible. but you must know, no man, especially one who you aren't even dating, should ever make you feel this way. the right one will make you cry only tears of happiness and pleasure, if you know what i mean."
her comment made you laugh, this was why you loved her. "thanks lu. sorry about that rant, i haven't told anyone and so feel special you're first to hear about this fucked up situation."
"i'm glad you can trust me, but i think i may have an idea," luna sat upright. "how about you stop meeting him so often? maybe start seeing him once a day; then once every few days. if you want to take it a step further you could even start hanging out with another boy more."
"luna you're a fucking genius," you reached over and hugged her.
"you know i always have the best ideas," she giggled.
just then the door opened and luna's eyes focused behind you, as your back was turned to the door.
"who is it?" you asked as you noticed her smile had dropped.
"don't turn around if you don't want to cry," she said and you immediately turned your head 180°.
"no fucking way," your jaw dropped as you saw theo walk in with cho. "is he fucking shitting me right now? luna tell me i'm dreaming. tell me."
"i'm sorry, babe. do you want to go somewhere else?" she asked.
"yes it is best we go. i don't think i'll be able to hold back a fucking fist in both their stupid faces," you both got up.
and as for your amazing luck, they both spotted you and luna. theo called out your name and walked over to you. "hey, what's up?" he asked with a stupid smile on his face as if he didn't know what he was doing.
"hey theo," luna gave a small wave and he smiled at her.
"we were just leaving," you said and took luna's hand and the two of you walked out. you heard theo say something but you were too distracted by the ringing in your ears.
"it's okay, it's okay," luna engulfed you into a very big, very needed hug.
"why would he do that? i literally told him i was going to be here with you?" you cried into her arms.
"he's a boy, they don't think with their brains, only their dicks."
-
it had been a few days since the incident and you still had not spoke to theo. you were going out of your way to ignore him, not caring if it hurt you more than him.
you would spot theo in the halls, once he noticed you, you had already turned around and walked the complete opposite way before he even got a chance to call out your name.
it hurt too much. it didn't help that after those first couple of days, he eventually stopped trying to get your attention. instead he was being all handsy with cho.
it killed you, hardly being able to speak or react. it also hurt that you had to distance yourself from the other slytherins who noticed the lack of your presence.
but it wasn't all too bad, instead of hanging with them you and luna started hanging out more. she would check up on you constantly, making sure to cheer you up to avoid you thinking about him.
she knew you were deeply upset about it. she allowed you to grieve, cry and let all of it out. she herself had never experienced this type of hurt, but she was almost grateful as she saw how badly it impacted you.
aside from not speaking to theo, you kept your head up high. you still went to class, still did your work, still sat at the slytherin table for meals. everyone noticed the tension between the two of you.
no one asked, or at least in front of your face. they decided it was better to keep quiet and try keep things as normal as could be.
amongst those few days of hurting, you started growing closer with mattheo. he was also there for you, he wasn't sure exactly what happened with theo but he knew it was hurting you and so he decided to be there for you.
he also had to admit that it was also due to the fact that he fancied you. you began sitting next to him at meals, class, even sometimes being spotted after classes walking together.
this didn't go unnoticed by theo, of course. he wanted to punch mattheo in his face. mattheo was one of theo's closest friends and to see him get close with you, it also hurt him.
it was a stupid, stupid situation. the two of you pretending to move on while both your feelings grew stronger- though a large majority of it was anger due to the fact you were not communicating.
or at least verbally communicating. whenever you looked up, no matter where you were, his eyes were the first ones to meet yours.
it was ridiculous, really. you couldn't seem to get away from him, he seemed to stalk you as if you were prey. he couldn't get you out of his mind.
-
you looked over at the clock, 2:56am. great. you couldn't seem to sleep for some reason and it was starting to annoy you. you quietly got out of bed, slipping on a random hoodie on the floor and your slippers before leaving your dorm. you knew that after 12am, no teachers or prefects would be on lookout so you didn't have to worry too much about getting caught.
you made your way up to the astronomy tower, your favourite spot to go when you were unable to sleep. you reached into your pj short pockets and retrieved the joint that you rolled earlier.
you got the lighter out and attempted to light it. of course it had to be out of fluid. you were just away to get up when you noticed theo standing behind you.
"you spooky bitch! why the fuck would you stand there like that, holy fuck bro. you better be glad i'm a teenager and not an old woman cause you would've gave me a heart attack," you scolded him as you raised a hand over your heart to relieve yourself of the pure distress he just put you through.
"calm down, darling. here's a lighter," he passed you his stainless steel lighter. the same one you carved both of your initials into. you were surprised he used it.
"you don't get to do that," you looked up at him, feeling anger flowing through your veins. theo looked at you, he seemed confused but also like he knew what was happening.
"you don't get to have cuddle me, kiss me, make love to me, everything a couple would do, and then fucking show up to a place where you knew i was at with another stupid fucking girl! do you know how long i've waited for you? years theo, fucking years! i thought it was best to keep waiting, hoping for the day that you would admit you loved me back, but you didn't. but i still waited, theo, i fucking waited. i would never do this if it was anyone else," you felt tears threatening to spill and a lump in your throat.
theo remained quiet, he looked down at his hands and played with the silver rings which decorated his stupidly pretty hands. you waited for him to say something, anything. but he didn't. once again, but were you surprised.
"have your stupid lighter back. i never should've carved our initials in it thinking we could've been something," you shoved the silver lighter into his hands before walking off.
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
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itsfeckinwimdy · 1 year
Text
10 Types of Kisses
Various LOTR/TH x Reader
Pairings: Aragorn, Fili, Haldir, Kili, & Legolas x Reader (separately).
Pronouns: n/a.
Prompt(s): 10 types of kisses by @urfriendlywriter. You can find her post here. (I used 9/10 of them).
Word Count: 3.4k words (3415)
Warnings: No beta, we die like Boromir. open wounds (Aragorns + Fili's), marriage (Fili's), swearing (Kili's), mentions of battle + death + blood (Legolas).
Tree Speaks: I had a lot of fun writing this but it also went into territory that I'm not particularly comfortable with writing yet so we'll see how this pans out.
Translations: amad - mother, dwarrowdams - a term used for female dwarves.
LOTR + TH Masterlist
Published: 25/02/2023
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1. Aragorn
soft kisses - where they're just lying beside you, hands playing with your hair as they trail tender kisses all over your lips
The two of you were meant to be sleeping of course, but the gloom of the mines made it hard to settle. You supposed that's why he pulled you away from the others slightly, to a spot just that bit further away.
Aragorn was on first watch as usual, having made it his task since the beginning of the journey, and always insisted that the hobbits and Gandalf got plenty of sleep. But with that came the usual knowing looks between the two of you as Aragorn knew his love wouldn't sleep unless he would.
So with that knowledge, and him sensing his love's rising anxiety at being trapped underground, it now brought them to this.
He tilted your head up from where it was resting against his chest, his hand cupping your face. Aragorn brushed a few loose strands of hair off your face from where it had fallen out of place as his own head tilted down towards yours. His hand gently entwined with your other, and he paused in his movements, allowing you to decide next.
You gently reached up, threading your hand through his long locks and gently pulling him down towards you. He pressed his lips to yours, mouth moving slowly, softly, intimately.
He pulled away, your lips chasing after his, a small smile gracing his lips as he pressed another kiss, and then another, and then another to your lips.
the type of kiss where you can't find words to say after, or the ones where your forehead lingers against each other's
Aragorn's horse trotted through helms deep, having just pulled him up from the river bed where if not found, he would've succumbed to his wounds. He dismounted his horse and received a scolding from Gimli before forcing himself up the staircases and into the deep.
Legolas rose from outside the doors, greeting his friend who believed him dead. The elf pulled him into a familiar embrace before pulling back and making a sarcastic comment about the ranger.
The elf turned a small smile gracing his face before yelling the name of a person. The ranger followed his line of sight. It fell on his love, you.
You looked up after the elf who yelled out to you, before seeing the man you mourned for standing with him. Abandoning your stuff, you ran to him, arms thrown over his shoulders and crushing him to your chest as a few sobs left you.
His arms encircled you as he leant his forehead against yours. He didn't care at that point about the mud caking him and he didn't think you cared enough at that point, so it made no odds on whether he was careful or not.
He pulled back slightly, raising his hand to caress your face before pressing his lips to yours. Tears left both of you as his mouth moved languidly with yours.
Aragorn pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He wanted to say so much to you, fearing that he would never see you again but all thoughts left him as he wished to stay in this moment, longing for nothing but you.
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2. Fili
messy kisses - curly hair, ruffled sheets and half-buttoned clothes as you just want more and at that moment, they're the most beautiful soul to you ever
The sun trickled in through the window, bypassing the curtains that hadn't been fully drawn across the night before. The young (ish) couple lounged in the bed, bodies pressed together as close as they could get with the few layers of clothes still between them.
He tilted your head up to meet his, his lips pressing against yours, moving languidly in the early morn. Fili reached up, hand caressing your courting and marriage braids that were still somewhat intact.
He groaned, feeling one of your hands gripping the hair at the base of his neck and the other slipping under his shirt across his chest.
Fili pulled back, eyes fluttering open to meet yours; your own half-lidded as you drew in a few stuttering breaths. It was a pleasant greeting from your love first thing in the morning, one that you would be against again.
You gazed up at Fili, the dwarf hovering over you, careful not to rest his entire body weight on you. The tressels of sunlight filtered through his hair, causing a glow to shine over him.
His eyes trailed over your face, memorising every detail as if it was the first time he saw you.
kisses on your body ♡ frail kisses on your shoulder! on your lower back, belly and trailing to your neck, collarbones, lips.
A cry of pain left your lips.
Oin pulled the blood-soaked cloth away from where it was pressed tightly against your side. The infection from the arrow had spread, the orcs having laced it with something deadly.
The pain wasn't something Fili wished on anyone, much less you. So he did his best to comfort you whilst the infection ransacked your body. His hands firmly held you, one holding the back of your head, and the other gripping your forearm to stop you from forcing Oin's hand away from the wound he was trying his best to treat.
After Oin had doused the cut in water, trying to flood any dirt that wormed its way in, Fili pulled you closer. The healer moved back to gather some more altheas and cloths, leaving you curled against your prince's chest.
Fili dropped his head down to your shoulder, as your tears continued to douse his shirt - not that he cared as it was covered in sweat, grime, and whatever else from the trip across middle earth - his hand on your head slipping down to the back of your neck, stroking his fingers in what he hoped was a soothing pattern.
He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, the fabric of your tunic had been pulled away, cut away for easier access. It would need replacing, he noted, but hoped that it would be enough to cover you until the sun rose again.
Fili continued his ministrations, pressing another kiss further up your shoulder. And then another at the junction where it met your neck. He considered pressing one to your neck, in that one spot he knew made you shiver, but with the way you were sitting in his lap you were already considered improper in public, so he begrudgingly decided against it.
Oin chose to return at that moment, pressing the churned-up altheas against your wound and then tying the cleanest cloth over it. You cried out in pain, more tears falling. It was like someone was driving a burning knife into your arm, over, and over, and over again. The pain rolling in waves.
Fili kept whispering words of praises and comfort, the Kadzhul translations lost in your mind as all you could feel was the pain, and him.
The knot was finally tied on the bandage. Fili slid his hand from the back of your neck to cup your face, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead before leaning his own upon yours.
I'm here, you're safe now, I love you, the action spoke more words than Fili could find himself saying.
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3. Haldir
lazy kisses as they admire you - fingers delicately trialing your jaw as they kiss your lips
"Haldir," you groaned, leaning back against his chest, head turned up to face him. A smile graced his lips, his eyes locked with yours, shining full of love.
It wasn't often you got to spend a prolonged period of time with your Marchwarden, especially with him being gone for months at a time to guard Lothlórien's borders. So any time you spent with him was precious, even if you knew he would be leaving at the end of it again.
The braid in his hair was loose, albeit from your hands running through his hair earlier, causing him to have a sexy, but dishevelled look. The thought of elves being supermodels no matter what state they were in flashed through your mind again causing you to chuckle slightly.
Haldir raised his hand, letting it linger under your jaw as he delicately leaned down to place another kiss against your lips. Warmth bloomed through you and as his lips moved against yours, all thought about him having to leave again in a few days retreated into the depths of your mind.
You were drunk off the taste of him, off his kisses as he stole your breath each time. And nothing would ever change that.
goodbye kisses - kisses lingering like liquor in each other's lips, bitter but sweet, "I'll always come back to you, love. you're my home after all."
The boats gifted to the fellowship had just finished being prepared and were packed full of provisions to last you a good while.
The thought of having to leave your home again haunted you but not just because it was where you lived. No, because this time you were leaving your love, not knowing when you were to see him again. He was your home.
The Marchwarden was allowed to see his love off, having been granted a week's leave whilst you and the fellowship recovered and stayed in Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien. After you were sent as an emissary to Imladris, Rivendell in the common tongue, and word had returned that you had embarked on a journey to destroy the one ring, Haldir was worried for you.
He knew the history of the ring, as did most if not all elves and was worried about the dangers you may face. He knew that you could protect yourself, having been a sparring partner against you for years, but the worry did not dissipate.
He met you at the shoreline, his hand over his heart in the traditional greeting before he held your hand in his. Sadness filled his eyes as he wished not to see you leave, but knowing that this was a journey you were willing to take.
Haldir leant his head against yours as he fixed the cloak hung around your shoulders, ensuring that the broach was attached properly.
His hands lingered on your waist as he prepared himself to say goodbye again. It was one thing being the one who was leaving, but now that he was on the receiving side for once, he now knew how your heart felt each time he went on patrol. That feeling of not knowing if you were coming back or not eating at his heart.
Your hand on his cheek stole his spiralling mind from his thoughts as your lips pressed against his. A tear threatened to leave his eye as he consumed your kiss like a drug. The fear bubbling in his chest soothing to make way for the love he held for you but the melancholy feeling at having to be parted from you made it more bittersweet than anything.
His lips lingered over yours as you pulled away, his hand raising to stoke a strand of hair back from your face. Haldir wished he could keep you here in his arms but understood the task you had undertaken would not be dropped lightly.
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4. Kili
kissing and realising this is the person you'll always love, you'll always want to touch and snuggle with
Kili didn't think he could hold you any closer than he currently was.
You were practically melded into him, hands gripping tightly to the back of his jacket. The clothing was still damp from the thunderous storm you had walked through, but nonetheless had to still wear.
The terror that shot through him as the thunder giant collided with the mountain, believing that he had lost not only his brother but you as well, was something he never wished to feel again. His hands trembled slightly at the thought.
He shifted slightly, taking some pressure off his shoulder whilst pulling you upwards slightly so you were level with him. The ground wasn't pleasant to lie on, less so on his side, and even less so with damp clothes on, but Kili knew this was the company's best option right now.
Kili rested his head against yours, his eyes meeting yours. He nudged his nose with yours affectionately, giving you time to pull away.
It was something he always did, you noted. Every time he wanted to kiss you but couldn't find the words to say it, or was surrounded by too many prying eyes, he did that. Gave you that tell that allowed you to decide what happens next.
You tentatively leant forwards, tilting your head upwards ever so slightly, letting your lips press against his. There was no rush. No incessant desire to pull the other closer, just him.
Kili moved his lips slowly with yours, savouring every moment that he got with you. Fuck, he loved you. The realisation pulled at his heartstrings more, knowing that he could've lost you today.
prohibited kiss - you're not even supposed to be seeing each other but your hands are on his hair and his hands around your waist, lower bodies pressing into each other as you kiss
Laughter radiated through your body as you were pulled through the endless turns and corridors of Erebor. The stone walls were lined with torches and braziers all lit with fires burning brightly.
To anyone else, it would be a maze, a catacomb of tunnels that unless sense was made of them, would surely lead to your demise. But years of living there had engraved the pathways into your mind, and no doubt Kili's.
His hand dragged you to a secluded corner, himself coming to a halt. He could no longer hear the guards trying to follow the two of you. Pride flooded his chest as he gazed back at you, finally alone with his betrothed.
You were finally able to get a good look at him, now that he didn't have all the dwarrowdams fawning over him. Even if he wasn't "beautiful" by dwarf standards, he was still a prince and would have people trying to gain his favour.
But his title didn't matter to you. Kili did.
And by the creator himself, did you love the way he looked. His hair tousled from the running, and the short beard he was so desperately trying to grow accentuated his face.
But the ceremonial robes that hung to his body? You couldn't resist.
He found himself pushed back, pinned against the pillar. Kili's eyes locked with yours, the same fire of desire within him, burning through you.
Your lips pressed with his, mouths moving frantically with the others. Your hands that gripped onto the front of his robes slid up, trailing up his neck and into his hair, pulling slightly to press him into you more.  A groan left him at a particularly harsh tug before your hand moved to trace his courting braid.
He pulled away, panting, breathless, kissing you again and pulling you into him, arms gripping your waist, hands in his hair, your bodies practically merging into one. If his Amad caught him now, he wouldn't even have to face the scornful looks of Dwalin, he would already be lying in his grave.
But could he let you go? Fuck no.
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5. Legolas
shy kisses - when you're the one pulling them closer, and they nuzzle their face in your crook after the kiss, hands around your waist as their ears get red
You were scared. If anything you were currently lustful, but you were about to fight in a war against ten thousand troops with an army of less than a third of that. So you were scared.
Legolas had turned to where you leant against one of the pillars, choosing to come and check all the fastenings on your armour. He was meticulous and methodical as he went to each and every one, adjusting where he deemed necessary whilst checking it caused you no discomfort.
A soft smile graced your face, as you watch his gentle movements before reaching out to cup his face in one of your hands. A blush, so subtle anyone who didn’t know Legolas would miss it, warmed his face, his head lifting and eyes locking with yours. It was as if he was staring straight into your soul, his piercing grey eyes full of love but fear.
You pulled him towards you, Legolas leaning his head down as his hand held over yours on his face, the other resting gently on your waist. Leaning up, you gently pressed your lips to his. Just once, mind you, the action as tender as possible, letting him come to you.
Legolas leant into you, pressing his lips back against yours, moving at a slow pace. He wanted to savour this moment as much as possible before the two of you walked to what could be your deaths.
ahem.
The clearing of the person's throat sprung the two of you apart, you mentally preparing for the endless stream of apologies to whichever passerby caught you, only for it to be someone you knew all too well.
"Aragorn." You spoke, heavily embarrassed to be caught with your lover.
The ranger looked between the two of you, his face being that awful neutral resting one making it so you couldn't judge his feelings on the matter. Aragorn must have read the panic starting to creep up in you as a teasing smile broke out.
“I have no qualms with this,” he began before looking over his shoulder towards the entrance of the armoury, “but the people of Rohan may not be as forgiving if you are caught.”
He turned on his heel, making his way up the staircase and leaving the two to their devices.
A moment passed and then a chuckle left your lips as a sigh left Legolas’. His head fell to your shoulder as the blush absconding his cheeks spread like wildfire tinting his ears a rosy colour.
At least it was only Aragorn, you mused, If Gimli had found you then he wouldn’t stop teasing your elf.
kisses of reassurance - saying that you're safe, still with them, that your heart is still beating wildly in your chest, that they couldn't get rid of you if they tried, that for some insane reason, you're not dead yet
Your chest heaved, trying to inhale as much air as possible as you sprinted up the mud-soaked hill. Aragorn had yelled for the soldiers to retreat into Minas Tirith and you were making your way as fast as you could until an arrow pierced your shoulder.
The doors were closed and sealed as you entered alongside the last few stragglers, a resounding bang from the wood hitting the stone frame. The room spun on its axis.
The throbbing pain in your arm continued, each ebb seeming stronger which was probably due to the adrenaline wearing off. Maybe you should've stayed fighting, it surely couldn't hurt as much as your arm did, you thought as your uninjured arm reached out to hold yourself up against the wall.
Giving up on keeping yourself upright, you slid falling somewhat ungracefully to the floor, blood dripping from your wound and soaking your sleeve. It was funny how much damage one arrow could cause.
You blinked.
The sun had risen, and from where you could see it, it was around mid-morning. Your eyes focused and you could see a worried face in a sea of platinum blonde hair. Legolas.
Ignoring the sound of the elf’s worry, you pushed yourself up into a seated position, as he gracefully knelt down next to you. His hands mindlessly moved to cup your face, as he had to pull his eyes away from your crudely bandaged arm. The arrow had been jagged and cut more as it pierced you, causing more blood to be lost.
Your hand covered one of his as Legolas moved to press his forehead to yours.
“I'm okay,” you whispered, breaking the silence between the two of you. Your thumb stroked the back of his hand absentmindedly, as you tilted your head up, meeting his lips with yours. It was one of desperation, longing and fear. A shuddered breath left you as the two of you broke apart.
“We’re okay.”
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milswrites · 15 days
Text
Rosehall
~Azriel X Reader
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Summary: Azriel gives you the best mating gift in the world by introducing you to the other important woman in his life.
Warnings: none just fluff :)
Azriel had always kept secrets. You had always written it off as it being a part of his work - being the spymaster of the Night Court no doubt wracked up hundreds of them.
His entire job revolved around gathering information from the unsuspecting mouths of threatening individuals. You were sure Azriel probably knew enough secrets to tear down entire courts if he chose to spill them.
But he wouldn't.
Because something you had come to learn was that Azriel was incredibly good at keeping them. So good, in fact, that he had managed to keep one from you for the five years you had been together.
There was no doubt in your mind that Azriel was keeping something from you. In fact you didn't need to be a spymaster to notice the mysterious way he would disappear from your home some evenings with a kiss to your head and a promise that he would return.
Sometimes he would provide you with a reason, a lame excuse that you saw right through, but you would still nod and smile all the same. Peck his cheek before sending him out the door, telling him not to be too long.
If you weren't as secure in your relationship as you were, you're positive that this would have been a bigger problem for you. That you would anxiously pace the floor of your home until he returned, smelling the male as he entered just to try and see if you got a whiff of an unfamiliar perfume.
But Azriel was your mate, and that golden thread tired between you, one of the bond that had just recently been accepted, meant you had to trust the male with your entire soul. And you did.
You'd busy yourself in his absence each time he left, knowing that when the time came and he was ready, your mate would tell you where he had spent all these secretive hours.
As it turned out, you didn't have much longer to wait.
~~~~~
Azriel had told you to get ready nice and early this morning. A nervous smile across his lips as he told you he was ready to show you exactly where it was he wandered off to every other day.
A mating gift, he called it. The desire to share with you the secret he held so near and dear to his hear.
You weren't sure what to expect or how to prepare for it. But your mate kissed you on the head and told you all would be fine, that you needn't stress and he would take care of everything.
So there he was, a fragrant bouquet in his hand that wasn't for you, waiting at the bottom of the steps in your shared home. Impatiently tapping his foot as you took the time to finish getting ready.
You approached him slowly, scared that if you were to startle him by showing too much enthusiasm at the prospect of learning his hidden secret he would panic. Retreating back into the shadows as he remained secretive and untelling.
"Shall we?" He asked nervously, gulping back some of his anxiety as he did so.
The male held out his free arm for you to take, allowing you to gently grasp onto him before he willed you both to be absorbed by his shadows.
~~~~~
The dark veil of shadows lifted to reveal a picturesque view. It was a combination of thriving farmland and lush forests, a number of rolling hills kissing against the horizon in the distance. It was beautiful.
And in the center of it all, the focal point of this idyllic rural painting, there stood a quaint little cottage. The thatched roof glistening under the light of the rising sun, roses of all colours blooming in the perfect little garden which was housed by a protective wooden fence.
Azriel noticed your silent appreciation, resting his hand on the small of your back as he began to lead you in the direction of the cottage, beginning to speak as he walked, "Welcome to Rosehall. And before you get too, excited the cottage isn't the gift."
"It's beautiful!" you said in amazement, it wasn't often that you had the chance to leave Velaris and the city - as wonderful as it was - didn't bare the tranquil, natural beauty that the landscape before you did.
You didn't need the bond to tell you that your mate was anxious, the tense grip of his hand against your back told you enough. Attempting to lighten the mood you joked, "I hope this isn't where you tell me you have a wife and kids."
He released a worried laugh, cracking a wonky smile which didn't quite meet his faraway eyes, "Not a wife but... well. You'll see."
The closer and closer you got towards the cottage, the more you were able to take in. The warm light which cast a homely glow through the sparkling windows and the curling plume of grey smoke which rose from the chimney told you that the house was well-lived in.
And there was a figure tending to the garden.
A soft, feminine form who was busying themselves with planting some newly sprouting roots into the array of pots before her. Her tangled hair, which was thrown haphazardly into a bun atop of her head, was the same dark colour of your mates.
"Azriel" you whispered in shock, shaky hand flying to your mouth at the realization of who it was you were approaching. Of who it was Azriel snuck off to see so often.
~~~~~
Azriel removed his steadying hand from the small of your back, moving towards the gate before lifting the latch and entering the garden, holding it open so you could follow him inside.
The soft click of the latch being enough to alert the woman, distracting her from her task as she raised her amber eyes to you and your mate. A loving smile crossing her face as she saw who her visitor was.
She launched to her feet, bounding over to the two of you before throwing her arms around Azriel - around her son - crushing the bouquet of flowers between their bodies which were tightly pressed together in their embrace.
"Darling! I didn't expect to see you here again so soon!"
Azriel cleared his throat at her words, pulling away from the hug as he began to shuffle his feet as he looked between you and his mother, finding the words to shyly speak, "Well, I thought it was about time I introduced you to my mate. Mum this is-"
His mother didn't allow him the time to finish his sentence. Instead opting to rush towards you, pulling you into an equally tight embrace as if she had done this a million times.
"It's so lovely to finally meet you, Azriel as told me everything about you of course" she chirped. Her hands, slightly rough from her years of labor in the garden, came to rest against your blushing cheeks, "But he never told me how beautiful you are! Cauldron darling you look as though you were blessed by the mother herself."
"Mum" Azriel groaned from where he was stood, embarrassed at the way his mum was doting on you. Yet he couldn't help the small smile which trickled onto his face at the sight before him, nor the way his eyes lovingly twinkled as he watched the two people he loved most finally meeting.
"That's funny" you said, shooting a burning glare towards your mate, "he told me absolutely nothing about you."
His mum tutted, her tongue coming to click against her teeth in disappointment, chiding her son for the lack of information shared between you.
"That boy i tell you," she started, pulling you excitedly by your hand towards the door of the cottage, Azriel following in tow, "So protective. He thinks I don't get lonely living by myself in the country? No, of course I do! I could have done with your company the last few hundred years darling."
You loved his mum.
It was an easy decision to make. The way she teased her son. The way she managed to get under his skin until the tops of his ears burned red in embarrassment. The overwhelming cornucopia of love which poured from her gaze every time she looked at her son.
It was easy to see why Azriel was so cautious in telling people about his mother. You had only known this woman for a minute and you were already sure you would be absolutely devastated if any harm were to ever befall her.
Her soothing, gracious persona was infectious. Her joy sparking a ray of light inside your chest which grew more and more every second you basked in her welcoming presence.
It was understandable now, why Azriel always seemed to come back from his mysterious trips away feeling lighter and more cheerful.
It was impossible not to be whilst you were here at Rosehall, here with his mother, and not feel the contagious merriment which hung in the air as if it was the very oxygen you breathed.
She eagerly dragged you inside Rosehall, pulling you into the homely kitchen, before pouring you a drink and hurriedly sitting down at the table with you, your hands clasped tightly in her comforting ones.
Silvery tears lined her golden eyes as she took you in. Her gaze didn't hold any judgement, instead it was filled with that same overwhelming surge of love which she looked at her son with, as if she was looking at her own daughter. Hands locked together with her own flesh and blood.
"I never thought I'd see the day where my little boy brought a woman home" she squealed, lip wobbling slightly as she tried to contain her overflowing sense of delight at the fact she was finally meeting you.
Azriel grumbled defensively from where he was stood at the counter of the kitchen, arranging his mother's flowers into a vase he had acquired.
"Oh and here I was thinking he used to be a ladies man. Have a lot of trouble with women as a boy Azriel?"
His mother beamed at your banter, staring between you and her son as if the pair of you were her entire universe.
"I was just waiting for the right person to come along. Luckily for me it was my mate" he uttered as he shrugged, coming to stand behind you. Resting his large hands on your shoulders, unable to sit down as the small kitchen only housed two chairs. A sign of the lack of visitors Azriel allowed his mother to have.
"Oh what a sweet boy" his mother snapped, a playful humour lacing her tone, "waiting until he accepted the bond before he came and brought his mate to meet his own mother. Did I miss the wedding too?"
You giggled at her words as Azriel began to sputter excuses to the woman who raised him, the headstrong lady clearly wasn't going to drop the topic of his prolonged wait to introduce you anytime soon.
"Please darling," she turned back to you, her furrowed brows relaxing as she spoke, "tell me I raised my son right and he at least got you a proper mating gift. Something romantic."
You looked up to your mate, his expectant eyes meeting your own elated ones. It was your turn for your lip to quiver due to the abundance of love which radiated in this home, squeezing his mother's gentle hands as you spoke, "He's given me the best mating gift I could have asked for."
And he had. This gift had been more than just Azriel introducing you to his mother, you could see that.
No, it had been Azriel giving you a part of his soul. Sharing with you his deepest secret, one that you would cherish forever as long as it was yours to hold.
There, in the cramped cluttered kitchen of Rosehall, Azriel's world just became a whole lot bigger. And as he looked to his girls, his two beautiful girls, Azriel allowed himself to relax. A tender smile settling on his face at the realization that he had found his home. His entire heart and soul belonging to the two women before him.
He was going to have to buy another chair.
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virgamsysxvolumes · 1 month
Text
Phantom of Love
Phantom didn’t like that Danny was so distracted lately, but he knew that college was important to him so he did his best not to complain. Sometimes he really disliked not being fused together with Danny but, being fused for years had stunted Danny’s growth and made him so liminal he might as well be another ghost all together. Danny had still grown up well even despite Phantom accidentally hindering him. He was beautiful and tall, though he was slender and youthful looking. Only Jack and Jazz Fenton were taller than Danny, he wasn’t nearly as broad or muscled as Jack but he was still solidly built from his years fighting with Phantom.
Phantom had changed over the years as well; he didn’t look nearly as human in his natural form. More void, smoke, and ice in a humanoid form than anything actually human. He’d learned to disguise himself as a human very well. Most people couldn’t even tell he wasn’t human and the few who suspected only thought he was some kind of meta. His human form was a little more broadly muscled than Danny, a little shorter, but a little darker in skin tone, though his hair remained its stark white as the only sign of his ghostliness apart from his green eyes.
Phantom only liked pretending to be human because it let him follow Danny around as he lived his life. He knew more sensitive people found him unsettling, the most obviously unsettled about him was a strange being in Danny’s math course. Phantom was sure that they weren’t truly human, but really could not tell what they actually were. Phantom wasn’t sure why he was thinking about that guy, he was always able to sneak in behind Danny without being noticed despite not actually being a student but this man always flinched when he spotted him and watched him warily. Phantom didn’t like Danny being so distracted from him, but this other mortal was pretty interesting. He seemed like he just couldn’t not notice Phantom.
“What are you thinking about?” Danny asked almost absently, icy blue gaze drifting to Phantom. Phantom’s gaze snapped to Danny, eager for his attention.
“I wasn’t thinking anything.” Phantom told him, definitely lying. 
“Is it that guy again? Duke Thomas?” Danny sighed and shook his head with a rueful smile.
“Is that his name? Interesting…” Phantom hummed thoughtfully, floating closer to Danny.
“He’s probably sensitive, don’t bully him for it.” Danny scolded gently.
“He can definitely see me.” Phantom observed his eyes glued to Danny’s, Danny’s expression turned to surprise. Phantom loved how expressive Danny was.
“Oh, that’s pretty unusual. Do you think he’s a medium or something else?” Danny couldn’t help but wonder before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter, we need to leave the poor guy alone. He looks so spooked!”
“One might say he seems haunted.” Phantom joked, nuzzling his face into Danny’s neck and causing him to stifle a giggle.
“Stop it, I need to focus.” Danny protested half-heartedly.
“Okay, okay. I’ll be good. But you have to become one with me later.” Phantom requested kissing Danny’s chin.
“Okay, once I finish this we should have time…” Danny agreed, his cheeks flushing pink and a giddy sort of smile on his face.
“Mmm, I look forward to entangling with you.” Phantom spoke softly into Danny’s ear causing him to flush even darker.
“D-don’t make it sound weird.” Danny whispered.
“It’s not weird Starlight, we were meant for each other.” Phantom told him. “My perfect half, my guiding light…I’d still be lost to the void if not for you.”
“I didn’t do anything…” Danny refuted trying to turn his focus back onto his textbook to avoid the shy feeling building in his chest.
“You called to me… You called me and shared your soul with me…” Phantom told him softly, he continued in a more teasing tone. “You even shared your body with me…”
“Phantom!” Danny scolded his whole face flushing. “That’s not what happened.”
“You shared your heart, your body, your mind, even your soul to restore me from the long void…” Phantom told him, wrapping his arms around Danny’s shoulders. “That is everything. Our destinies are entwined; now and forever we will have each other.”
“Hnh, m-maybe I could take a break.” Danny said softly as Phantom kissed his neck softly.
“Anything you want Starlight.” Phantom chuckled.
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livlaughloveluke · 20 days
Text
𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 ! - 𝐥.𝐜 🫧
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daughter of aphrodite! reader x luke castellan 💘
summary- luke would carry the world on his shoulders for the approval of your mother
warnings- like two cuss words, feminine reader, one slight reference to sex (lukes a virgin lolol), not proofread (yet)
3.3k
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You had always been the favorite of your mother, Aphrodite. With the way she frequently delivered extravagant gifts, ranging from beauty supplies to carefully crafted swords, it was clear you were granted special treatment from the typically vain goddess. Others grew envious of your glorious relationship, watching from afar as you had yet another conversation with her. 
The unfortunate truth was that you worked your ass off to receive a fraction of affection from your mother. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready, biting your tongue as others gossiped about you, and training hours per day were just some of the cruel circumstances you had to endure in order to keep up your facade. Everything about you had to be seemingly perfect, which is hard to maintain when living in such harsh conditions.
Your ethereal beauty and charming personality gained the attention of many, making Aphrodite proud. However, no matter how many demigods asked you out, they were all politely declined. This wasn’t a personal choice, but instead one forcefully implemented by your mom. 
Every camper knew of the strange rule the goddess had set for you. Not one soul would be allowed to take you on a date without her approval. Unfortunately for you, she was extremely strict and harsh when choosing. It was odd that the ruler of love would prevent her dearest kin from experiencing the joys of having a partner, but the gods did little with rationality.
During your weekly prayer one evening, you found yourself pondering why Aphrodite seemed to reject all suitors. Seeking answers, you broached the subject with her. In response, Aphrodite professed a desire for nothing but the best for you, her words punctuated by the subtle shifts in her mood. Intrigued by her cryptic response, you couldn't help but remain curious, uncertain whether she spoke the truth or spun another detailed tale.
Among the crowd of diligent campers who showered you with attention, there remained one who truly stood out. Luke Castellan, the offspring of Hermes, had harbored a profound admiration for you from the moment of your arrival. While others were fixated solely on your captivating exterior, he found himself drawn to the depths of your enchanting personality. Your passionate expression for the things that ignited your soul—be it delving into the mysteries of ancient artworks or nurturing the vibrant flower fields—held him spellbound.
One day, the immense ache in his lovelorn heart became too agonizing to bear. As the sun awoke from its slumber and you elegantly devoured a ripe pear, he asked you to follow him into the lush forest. Despite the slightly sketchy request, you obliged, trusting Luke with your whole heart.
"I hate to sound blunt, but why are we here again?" You queried, batting away pesky flies and dodging branches that lunged out intrusively.
"I'm determined to take you out," he proclaimed, his voice brimming with confidence, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt creep in as you cringed with uncertainty.
“Luke, you know how my mom feels-“ 
“Yeah, I know how your mom feels. But how do you feel?” He blurted, his coffee brown eyes staring deep into yours, and for a moment, you saw the deepest part of him that was hidden from the rest of the world. 
“What’d mean?” You questioned him, trying to wrap your head around his statement, like it was a foreign concept for someone to ask how you perceived the situation.
“Do you wanna go out with me?” Luke whispered.
“I’d love to, but she-“ His response was accompanied by a light shake of his head, his voice gaining intensity as he delivered his next sentence with austerity.
“Tell me the truth. If Aphrodite wasn’t your mother, would you date me?”
Silence flooded the woods; it seemed even the birds stopped singing to hear your much-awaited response. 
“Yes, I would.” You said it honestly, twiddling with your hands out of nervousness for your mother’s reaction.
“Okay then. I have a plan; don’t worry.” Luke interlocked your fingers, gently dragging you back to the pavilion with a grin plastered across his face.
As the day unfolded in its familiar rhythm, there was an intriguing twist: you found yourself stealing glances at Luke more frequently, your fondness for him blossoming rapidly. Anticipation brewed as you prayed for the success of whatever scheme Luke had concocted. Yet, the nagging suspicion of your mom’s disapproval gnawed at you, even if Luke was nicknamed the camp's "golden boy."
As dusk approached and dinner was served, the absence of Luke grasped your attention. The atmosphere lacked the presence of a couple other different Hermes offspring, too; the usual crowd at the wooden picnic tables was now missing. Brushing aside budding concerns, you settled beside your siblings, concealing any anxieties that threatened your composure.
You would have thought Hades took a visit to Cabin 11 with the way everyone was scrambling around. Dozens of clothes littered the floor, the room looking as if a freight train plowed through. Luke was in the center of the mess, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully examined his outfit options.
“A suit is definitely too much, right? I mean, I think it would be weird to go completely dressed out.” He started, with Chris standing next to him as they both pondered.
“Yeah, yeah. Ditch the suit.” His friend replied, tossing the crisp attire back into the closet. 
“So do I wear the camp shirt or something else?” Luke interrogated the rest of the children.
“Camp shirt.” Chris said, but another older female camper chimed in.
“Obviously not. It’s a disgusting neon orange.” She declared, rolling her eyes.
“I think it makes him look devoted to the camp.” Chris defended.
“Oh please, it washes him out. Try this navy blue top.” The Hermes girl tossed a crinkled polo at him, turning away as he slipped the shirt on.
Luke looked in the mirror, pleased with his choice. All of his peers stared at him in judgment before coming to the conclusion that the deep blue suited him.
“Told you. Now hurry up. You can’t miss dinner.” She uttered, shooing him out of the packed cabin. 
All eyes were focused on him as he walked to supper since he was out of the appropriate attire. He snagged his dinner, rushing to sit next to you. 
“Cute shirt. A little late though; dinner's almost over.” You complimented, and the rest of your fashion-inclined siblings nodded in agreement. Luke felt his cheeks flush from your words and because of the overwhelming stares provided by campers.
“Thank you. I’m not really hungry anyway." He responded, which wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach was doing cartwheels as he counted down the minutes until the burnt offerings. As soon as the sound echoed through the air, he practically sprinted to be the first.
He slid almost all his food into the metal tin can (which he would definitely miss later that night when he went to bed hungry) and, with shaky hands, lit the dinner. The aroma of multiple dishes mixed into one and then set on fire was putrid, but luckily for Luke, that’s just what he needed to catch the attention of Aphrodite.
As she heard the pleads of the boy, who was begging for a conversation, and smelled the smoke, it was enough to send her spiraling down onto Earth. She was gorgeous—ten times prettier than any image Luke could have pictured in his head.
“I'm Luke Castellan.” He stumbled out nervously, but recollected and gathered his thoughts.
“I want to date your daughter, Y/N.” He declared, noticing the way the goddess looked away with anger. 
“And before you say anything,” he continued, “I swear I have the best intentions.” 
Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, inspecting him.
“I don’t know. Many boys just like you have claimed the same.” She spoke to him with such clarity.
“It’s different; I can promise you that. I’m a good kid.” He pleaded, growing desperate as he swallowed.
“You aren’t sounding much different than the children before you.” She replied, and Luke could tell she was about to walk away, so he did what he thought was best and blurted out what came to mind.
“I’ve never smoked, I pray to the gods every night, and to be honest, I rarely step foot out of camp. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, and I’m the best swordsman in camp—at least that’s what everyone says. I’m still a virgin, and I’ve never even glanced at another girl in any romantic way because the only one I have eyes for is your daughter. Please, ma’am.”
Aphrodite's eyebrows lifted, and her mouth agape at his sudden speil. She had to admit that it was quite impressive.
“Hm, I suppose you have made a compelling argument. I’ll let you take her out on one date, but only if it goes well will you be allowed to see her again. And she must approve of you.”
Luke smiled at her, letting out heavy breaths he didn't even know he was holding on to. 
“Thank you so much. I can assure you, you won’t regret it.” He thanked the goddess, who just shrugged and left him in the dark forest. Too thrilled to care, he joyfully jogged back to the cabins, where his bunkmates patiently waited.
He shoved his way inside, panting, excitement bubbling within him. The air in the cabin seemed to crackle with anticipation as everyone turned their attention toward him, their eyes lit with curiosity, waiting for him to spill the details of what had transpired.
“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, unable to contain the joy that surged through him. Instantly, the air was filled with the sound of cheers and joyous squeals, his friends erupting into a wave of celebratory exclamations.
“Well, sorta. As long as the first date goes okay,” Luke added, his enthusiasm slightly dampening as he lowered his head, a hint of uncertainty tainting the original exhilaration of his announcement. The cabin fell into a sudden hush, a sense of disappointment crushing the once great news. 
“Then we better get to planning,” Chris interjected, lighting a spark of hope. Everyone returned to their primary delirium, huddling together to craft the picture perfect night.
Campers threw out ideas for the date on the spot, ranging from the location to his preferred mannerisms. His sisters used their experiences with being a women to instruct him on how to act, telling him what was considered acceptable and what to avoid. The rest of his siblings and friends scoped out the land, deciding on the perfect site.
After enduring the lengthy schooling, Luke stole a fleeting moment away from his lesson, his heart set on sharing the newfound momentous revelation with you. The bonfire raged on, campers swarming around it like hungry sharks. Old friendships were being rekindled, and new bonds were forming. Admits the social circle stood you, who laughed as you spoke to the Apollo kids.
With a grin that illuminated his features, Luke observed you from a distance, captivated by the infectious positivity that radiated from you. As you strayed away from the chaotic crowd, your eyes met his. His feet propelled him forward, drawing him towards you. 
“Hey!” you greeted, your voice filled with genuine excitement as he approached.
“Hey! Guess what?” Luke's words tumbled out in a rush, his eagerness present as he awaited your reaction.
“What’s up?” you inquired, intrigued by his anxious body language.
“Your mom said yes,” Luke revealed, his expression a mix of anticipation and restrained enthusiasm.
“What?” you gasped, disbelief coloring your features before giving way to unbridled joy.
“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, the thrill evident in his voice.
Excitement flourished within you, causing you to leap into his arms, angelic laughter filling the atmosphere as he lifted you up and spun you around. The cutesy scene hooked the attention of others, whispers beginning to travel.
Like a raging wildfire, Luke's announcement spread swiftly through the crowd, resonating with everyone within earshot. Within minutes, the joyous information spread through the gathering. Some were jealous, spreading rumors the moment they heard them, and some were just happy for the two.
Neither of you cared about the whispers and gossiping of those around you, their chatter fading into the background as you were enveloped in his warm embrace. The world seemed to melt away as he gently set you down, his touch lingering on your skin.
As you looked up into his eyes, time seemed to stand still, and the intensity of your love was reflected in the depths of his gaze. With each beat of your heart, you felt a surge of affection wash over you, your gaze softening as you looked upon him with adoration. There, in the depths of his eyes, you found comfort, a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.
"7 o'clock okay for tomorrow?" Luke's voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to the present moment. His words sent a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins.
"Mhm," you murmured in response, your mind still lingering on the warmth of his touch, until a daughter of Demeter called you over, disrupting the spell cast by Luke. As you tore yourself away, a shiver raced down your spine, the absence of his soothing hands leaving you feeling strangely hollow.
In the darkness of the night, neither of you seemed able to sleep with the thought of each other prominent in your minds. Remembering all of the special moments you shared, even before today, summoned a mixture of emotions. If this date didn’t go according to plan, the memories would be permanently lost, drowned out by new experiences.
Eventually, Hypnos blessed you with a night’s rest, and before you knew it, it was 6 p.m., an hour before the long-awaited gathering with Luke. Your siblings were currently helping you get ready in the vast space that was the Aphrodite cabin.
"Do you know where he's taking you?" Urged your closest sister, her fingers deftly working through your hair as she leaned in.
Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you met her gaze in the mirror, uncertainty dancing in your eyes. "No, not really," you admitted with a sigh, feeling a knot of anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach as you nervously tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.
"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination as she dropped the task of defining your hair, her attention now fully focused on the impending dilemma. With a sense of urgency, she hurriedly crossed the room to her bustling closet, the sound of fabric rustling filling the air as she searched for the perfect outfit.
You watched her with amusement, as she rummaged through her collection.
With a triumphant exclamation, she emerged from the depths of her closet, a victorious smile gracing her lips as she presented you with a selection of carefully curated outfits. "I'm sure we can find something that'll work," she declared with confidence, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she began to lay out the options before you.
She presented you with a breathtaking spring dress, its delicate fabric decorated with teensy flowers. You ran your fingers over the dainty material, embracing its beauty.
"It's perfect," you breathed in awe, your voice barely above a whisper, as you marveled at the garment.
"I know, right!" she exclaimed, her excitement infectious as she twirled around in delight. "This is so exciting! Your first date!" she continued, her words bubbling with enthusiasm as she continued to fuss over your appearance.
You attempted to summon a smile, but despite your best efforts, the flicker of unease in your eyes did not go unnoticed by your sister.  She gently squeezed your hand, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.
"What's wrong?" She questioned you softly, her hands pausing in their task of arranging your hair as she turned to look at you through the expansive vanity mirror.
"It's nothing, really. Just... anxious, I guess," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to find the right words to express the complexity of your thoughts.
"Hey, it'll go great. And if not, there's a long line of suitors out there waiting for you," she reassured you, her voice filled with warmth and understanding, "so I'm sure Mom would approve of at least one of them."
"But I don't want it to be them," you confessed, your voice shaky as you admitted your true feelings. "I want it to be Luke."
She slightly frowned, grabbing your head and leaning into you. You shut your eyes to block the tears, discovering a place of love in her arms. A sudden knock on the wood door interrupted the warmth of silence.
She hopped up with eager anticipation, practically skipping to the door to greet Luke. As she opened it, you seized the opportunity to slip into the closet and change into the dress she had requested.
Luke stood on the doorstep, his hands fidgeting with a bouquet of ethereal flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. A hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes as he glanced around, searching for you.
"Uh, is Y/N here?" he asked, his voice laced with nervousness as he scratched the back of his head.
"Yes, she is," your friend replied, her tone firm, her gaze locking onto Luke's with determination. "But before you go any further, I need to warn you. You must take excellent care of her, no matter what. Because if you don't, I'll come find you personally."
“I promise.” He stuck out his pinky, interlocking it with hers to signify an agreement he would uphold. Stepping outside the cramped enclosure, you checked your reflection and headed towards the door. 
"Hi!" you exclaimed, your voice ringing out into the air, breaking through the awkward tension that had settled between the two of them. Luke's shoulders visibly relaxed as he turned to face you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips upon noticing your presence.
"Hey." He whispered softly, capturing in the sight of you standing before him, your captivating looks leaving him momentarily speechless. You smiled, threading your arm between his and escaping the cabin. 
"I brought you these." Luke stated, his voice tinged with admiration as he handed you the colorful floral arrangement. You accepted the bouquet with a grateful smile, the fragrance of the flowers filling the air as you gently wafted them in your hand.
"Thank you," you replied sincerely, touched by his thoughtful gesture, "they're beautiful."
Lost in conversation, you continued hiking together, the winding path leading you deeper into the heart of the forest.
Unbeknownst to you, Luke had a destination in mind, his steps purposeful as he guided you along the trail . The scenery around you shifted, the dense foliage giving way to a small deserted landscape.
Atop the grassy bank, a thick picnic blanket lay spread out, its vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the lush greenery that surrounded it. An assortment of fruits and treats adorned the blanket, ranging from juicy strawberries to decadent chocolates.
As you settled onto the blanket, the soft fabric cushioning your every movement, you couldn't help but marvel at the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before you. Stretching out into the distance was the icy blue lake, its surface shimmering in the golden light of the sun, which peeked over the horizon as if to witness the magic of the moment.
As the minutes flew by, the loud croaking of cicadas immersed and the sky gradually transformed into a canvas of twinkling stars.
Wrapped in Luke's arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the worries and uncertainties of the day melting away.
In that moment, as you lay together under the vast starlit sky, you felt a profound connection to Luke. A realization that filled you with a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
Whether your mom approved of your relationship or not (spoiler alert: she did), it didn't matter. What mattered was that you were with Luke, and in his arms, protected from the surrounding cruel world.
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