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megamindsecretlair · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, beloved! ❤️ Would you be down to write about Terry Richmond using some rope tricks that he learned from his Marine training on reader? 🤭 If not, I completely understand and you’re still amazing !😘

A/N: Forgive me, I know this doesn't technically fit the bill, but this got my mind spinning. Let me know if you want a more faithful response.

Touch Me Like You Care

Pairing: Daddy Dom!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, lite bondage, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.

Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry comes home to find you reading in bed, all thoughts of getting dressed out of your mind as you rest. He was prepared to let you, truly, but then he finds that you’re not wearing the bracelets he bought you. And well, he can’t let that slide, can he?

Word Count: 4,475k

AO3 Link

A/N: @planetblaque knows I can deny her nothing!! Whew, everytime I think I can take a break from this man, ya'll pop out with all of these amazing fics! I'm so over the moon to see so much activity. We fr just tossing this man around like a beach ball and I love that for us!!! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You pulled your dresser open and searched for your favorite pair of thigh high socks. Ever since the weather turned, you were back to shivering every two seconds, feeling colder than a witch’s broomstick no matter what you did.

After a refreshing shower, you opted to dry under your blanket hoodie, feeling the need to retreat from having to be “on” all the time. Navigating the world as a Black woman was fucking exhausting.

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your latest dirty book. There was a subtle increase in Black led romances that were making you stay up to the wee hours of the morning reading. The latest book was absolutely filthy from your favorite author. The anticipation for this book had been immense, the group chat blowing up with speculations and guesses.

The book was getting better, when the couple who swore they hated each other was about to fuck that tension out since fighting got them nowhere. You squealed, picking up the nearest pair of socks. You tore your gaze away long enough to put your socks on.

You looked around the room for your blanket hoodie. It was sitting on the famous chair, piled on top of a mountain of clothing that was near toppling over. You grabbed the hoodie and then checked in on your phone.

Oh, the tension. The passion. It just ate you up inside when the characters got to that part. Confessing their love in drunken confessions or in the middle of an argument. Ouee, your body was on fire just thinking about it. Your pussy clenching at the details. The rich words creating a movie in your mind’s eye.

Abandoning your hoodie, you laid across the bed and decided to air dry. With the way this book was going, you might need a second shower. You rested your head on your closed fist and let your mind drift, picturing the scene.

You didn’t hear when your boyfriend called your name after he arrived home. Or how his heavy footfalls padded down the hallway to your bedroom. Or how he called your name again when he stood in the doorway. You didn’t hear the subtle camera click as a picture was taken.

Somewhere between the fifth and…counting?... sex scene, you ended up on your tummy, legs high behind you, tapping your socked feet together. You were literally kicking your feet as the characters kept telling each other that they hated each other as they were clutching onto each other for dear life.

You sighed. You simply ate this shit up. You were already mentally typing up your notes for your review on Goodreads. Ouee, maybe you should start keeping a side notebook. Just to jot down bullet points so your scatterbrained mind didn’t forget a single detail.

Fingers reached across your ass and you yelped, looking behind you ready to scream. Terry stood behind you, his head tilted and a smirk on his luscious face. You choked out a laugh, rolling to one side so you could look at him better.

He looked damn good in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Terry slid his fingers absently across your bare ass, tracing the globes up and down. Your body shivered, pussy clenching with need. You gazed at your man. At the smooth planes and lines of his face, the cut of jaw, those big pink lips.

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Sorry,” you said, giving him a cutesy grin.

His lips twitched but he didn’t let himself smile. “You’re not cute. You have to be more aware of your surroundings,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding. “Though to be fair, the only man getting in here is you.”

“Mhm,” he said, nodding his own head. “You reading your dirty books?”

“Yes! You remember my favorite author?” You asked.

Terry nodded, hiking his eyebrow up as he encouraged you to tell him all about your favorite author. And the book you were currently reading. “And I just got to the good part,” you said.

Terry chuckled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He trailed his fingers between your legs as he moved away and you gasped. For two reasons. On the one hand, Terry’s hands on you always instantly put you in the mood. With your pussy already wet, you were thinking it was a good time for a break.

On the other hand, you forgot that you had taken off your gifts from him while you showered. It was the only time you were allowed to do so. You meant to put the ankle and thigh bracelet back on when you lotioned up but plum forgot.

Terry stopped and you could feel his stare. It burned in the back of your head. Your heart thumped in your chest. You had no idea what he was going to do.

“Baby,” Terry’s deep timbre was a physical caress down your spine. You stretched your back and bit your lip.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said, pitching your voice higher.

“Where are your bracelets?” He rubbed his thumb across your thick thigh. The weight of those words pressed down on you, making you want to retreat in your mind. You began to pant, feeling out of sorts. You were so turned on you could barely breathe. But you were also worried about what kind of punishment you were about to receive.

“I just showered,” you said. You rolled so that you could look at his pretty face. To at least try to gauge where his mind went. Terry stopped you by wrapping his hand around your thigh.

“I believe you. But you’re out of the shower now,” he said.

“I really forgot this time,” you said.

Terry sighed, the sound like a coin drop in an empty room. “You know what we have to do now, right?” He asked.

“You sure I can’t bargain out of this one? I can be pretty cute, you said so,” you said.

“Up,” he said, his calm voice making matters worse. You may as well have been pleading your case to a brick wall. There was no changing his mind.

You got to your knees and then flipped over, scooting to the edge of the bed. Terry rolled his shoulders as he moved to your closet. He pulled a pine green box down from the top shelf.

He placed the large, repurposed gift box on your dresser and opened it. Cheery snowmen looked at you from the painted edges as Terry rummaged around. He drew out a pair of leather cuffs and crossed over to you.

You pouted at him as he strapped the cuffs to your wrists. There was a small golden link between them keeping it connected and not giving you much room to escape. You tested the pull on it as you tried to separate your wrists. No dice.

Terry grabbed the link and pulled you into a standing position. He sighed deeply, his voice a rumbling thunder behind it with a hum as he stared you down. “I had plans to treat you so well when I got back,” he said.

“Fuck,” you said, the curse flying fast. You rubbed your thighs together, staring up into his pretty colorful eyes. Every time you looked at them, they were a different color. You loved to see the changes, especially this up close. His eyes went more brown when he was like this, when he’d sunk into that role of being in charge. Of being protective.

He kissed your cheek, softly, reverently, his juicy lips leaving a small wet spot behind. He moved down to your lips, not quite kissing you. He hummed and smirked. “Whatever happens, just know that I love you, okay?”

“Terry,” you huffed. His name was a plea and a curse all in one. You didn’t know what was worse. Knowing the torture was coming or having to live through it. Your thighs were on fire, burning with the need to have him between them.

He pulled you closer by the cuffs, kissing you completely this time. He brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, hands warm. You licked his lips and he moaned. “Nice try,” he said against your lips.

He said that, but you stepped closer, rubbing yourself against his growing bulge. He chuckled, letting you, looking down while you rubbed on him. He grinned and then grabbed your shoulders, turning you around. He pushed you down. You let out a soft oomph, flopping onto the bed.

He grabbed your hips, pushing you further up your big ass bed. He positioned you how he wanted, close to the edge, but not so close that he didn’t have free range behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you could only hear him moving around behind you.

It sounded like he was rummaging through the goody box again. You sighed. Digging your toes into the bed. “Start reading,” he commanded, voice sharp.

How the hell were you supposed to read anything? You hesitated, looking at your phone. There was no way you’d be able to concentrate and he knew that.

“Baby,” you said and licked your lips.

Terry said nothing and again, you felt his gaze bearing down on you. You whimpered as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and swiping back to your phone. You began reading aloud, reading about the sex scene you were in the middle of.

Reading it aloud to Terry, picturing him as the main male character, you were miserably wet. Dripping practically. You sighed, thinking of your ruined bed. You’d have to spend tonight doing laundry.

Terry’s massive hand slapped across your ass, the recoil loud enough to rival a gunshot. You squealed, falling forward onto the bed. Heat bloomed between your thighs, warming up your core to a dangerous level.

It still really fucking hurt though. Your ass stung and you swore that you could feel aftershocks of his hand, slapping across your ass over and over. “Fuck, fuck!” You yelled out.

“Keep reading,” he said.

You got back to your knees and arched your back like he positioned you in before. You returned to reading out loud, pussy throbbing at the way the words made you feel. You got to an explicit part when Terry’s hands came back down. He smacked your ass a handful more times, covering a wide area and making your ass light up like a Christmas tree.

Tears welled in your eyes from the pain and the pleasure. It was too much stimulation. “Please, please, fuck me. I can’t take it,” you whimpered. The words on your phone swam in your vision as your body contracted with shivers. Both from the radiating waves of heat and the burn low in your belly.

Terry rubbed his hands across your ass and you screamed, kneeling away from his hands. Wherever he touched, your ass sang with pain. “Are you going to remember to put your bracelets on?”

You nodded. “Yes, I swear,” you said.

Terry shoved his fingers between your legs, plunging right up your pussy. You collapsed onto the bed, twitching. “Mhm, I didn’t give you permission to cum,” he said.

“Daddy, pleaseeee,” you pleaded, lower belly twinging with the pain of fighting off your orgasm.

“You can get wetter than this, baby,” he said.

“I can’t,” you said, drool seeping into the navy covers beneath you. Your face was smashed into the bed, no way to hold yourself up while his fingers stroked your walls. The loud squelching of your pussy, wet because of him, made you clench around his fingers and moan.

He placed his free hand on your ass, giving you the dual sensation of sweet torture and cruel relief. He moved his fingers faster, stretching you out with his long, thick fingers. You rode yourself on his fingers, throwing it back and he moaned. He smacked your ass more lightly this time, more in encouragement than anything else.

“Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” you said, legs twitching. You couldn’t hold off any longer.

Terry leaned down over your body, placing his lips as close to your ear as he could get it. “Nahhh,” he said slowly, a subtle rasp in his voice. You bit your lip and rode him harder, showing him that you needed more. “Gotta earn that shit.”

You sobbed into your bed, tears streaming freely. You were about to explode. Come undone at the seams. “Daddy, please. Pleaaseee. Pleaaasseeee, ouee, pleeasseee,” you moaned, desperately riding his fingers.

“You know what Daddy needs,” he said.

Tears leaked freely, mixing with the drool and pooling onto the covers. Your mind turned to mush, no longer able to keep reading. Your moans were loud and near screaming. Your throat raw with the effort. Your essence flooded his fingers and he hummed in satisfaction.

“There’s my good girl,” he purred. He suddenly flipped you over, not giving you a chance to work with him. He was too impatient, too needy, too rough as he positioned you on your back. He pushed your arms above your head, giving you a look. You planted your hands above your head and knew better to move them.

It pushed your breasts up, giving him a total view of your chest. He groaned, eyes tracking to your pert nipples. Terry folded you in half, scooting his thighs beneath your back, holding you spread open for him.

He placed soft kisses to your wet pussy, lips smacking from your juices. “Baby, I can’t hold it no more,” you said.

“You’re gonna hold it because Daddy told you to,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. You whimpered, whined, trying to breathe through being folded like a pretzel.

Your toes brushed against the bed with every rocking motion from Terry as he got himself comfortable. He continued kissing your pussy, stopping to look back and stare at your pussy. His lips began to glisten with your essence.

You groaned, a primal, possessive side of you jumping out. You marked your claim. It was your juices on him. Your essence feeding him.

“Daddy, please,” you cried out. From this position, you saw his face perfectly. He stared at your pussy like a man possessed. Like a greedy man with the richest treasure in the world. Your heart softened just as your pussy throbbed.

Terry smirked. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy. She miss me?” He asked. As if you hadn’t gone two and half rounds when you woke up this morning. As if he wasn’t driving you insane nearly every time you got within two feet of each other.

“Yes, Daddy, she missed you,” you moaned.

“Yeah? She gon’ be good and cum when I say?” He asked. He stared at you from beneath his long eyelashes framing his stormy blue eyes while his tongue rolled out of his mouth. He used the tip of his tongue to search through your soaked curls, separate your pussy lips, and flick across that little bundle of nerves.

“Ouee, shit,” you moaned. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Your heart beat so loudly, it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. You huffed, watching his tongue work around your clit. Feeling it was even better. His breath was hot across your pussy, making your breaths stutter in your chest.

His lips followed his tongue, going deeper, playing with the rim of your entrance before dipping his tongue inside you. You cried out, belly fluttering. You moved your hands and Terry’s eyes narrowed.

Fresh tears leaked from your eyes, dripping down the side of your face. “Pleasseee,” you begged.

“You’re doing so well, already,” he moaned. He sped up, licking you, eating you, devouring you as he lapped at your pussy. Fresh essence dripped out of you and he licked that up too. He moaned, burying his nose and face into your pussy. He ate like a man starved. Sloppily. Messily.

“Oue, fuck, ouee,” you screamed.

Terry moved closer, like he was trying to shove his whole face inside of you. His plush lips wrapped around your clit and sucked.

“Oh fuck! Terry! Terry!” You screamed. Your body began twitching. The orgasm you staved off was coming whether you wanted it to or not. Terry stopped altogether, suspending your body in the midpoint between denial and reprieve.

Your eyes rolled lazily to him, panting, huffing, body feeling like you had been tossed into a barbeque pit. “T-T-”

Terry tilted his head, tongue flat against your clit. You throbbed and pulsed on his tongue but he didn’t move. Your body retreated from the edge in slow increments, relaxing against him.

You blinked at him, no longer able to communicate a single thought. Terry’s eyes gleamed with sick pleasure. He hummed, moving his tongue against your clit once more. He brought you to the edge and then denied you the rush of pleasure at the last minute. He did it one more time, letting you relax and then bringing you back to the precipice.

Your belly cramped so bad. Your mouth stopped working. You couldn’t do anything but pathetically moan as he ate his fill. Your toes brushed against the bed again as he leaned back far enough.

“She too tired now?” He asked.

You shook your head. Furthest thing from it. Terry smirked. “You nice and dumb for me, baby?” He asked. He gave you teasing little licks. You hissed and moaned, eyes aching from how hard you closed them from the torture.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” Terry said, smacking your ass for good measure. It woke you from the fog long enough to nod.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said.

Terry grinned and then relented, giving in and eating you with a renewed fervor. “You can cum now, baby,” he moaned into your pussy. His tongue and lips teased your clit. His fingers dipped back inside your entrance, coaxing that sweet, sweet orgasm out of you.

You screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Or hell, maybe you joined them. Lights burst behind your eyelids as you came with so much force, you couldn’t breathe. Your pussy ached and throbbed, thighs shaking against Terry’s face as he teased you throughout the whole ride.

He slowed down as he sensed that you were coming down, drawing out his teasing licks and kisses to your pussy. He pulled back and your essence dripped from his face. He looked like he went swimming in your pussy. His entire jaw was covered, shiny and wet. You wish you could take a picture of him like this.

A long spit chain connected you to him and he moaned, ending on a hiss. “That’s a good fuckin’ pussy,” he huffed as he regained his own breathing. “Turn that ass over.”

Terry lowered you to the bed while he hopped off. He made quick work of his clothes, his huffs and puffs the only indication of how badly he was rushing. You were just a noodle, watching him reveal inches of his bronze skin, the veins in his biceps, the tattoos on his arms.

You traced the tattoos more times than you could count, lips twitching with the urge to do so now. His thighs were equally delicious. As big as tree trunks, a light dusting of hair. And that ass. He turned to the side briefly so he could free his long legs from his underwear and sweats.

“You are so damn pretty,” you mumbled.

Terry chuckled. You didn’t think he heard you. “That’s my line,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I told you what you need to be doing.”

You couldn’t flip over fast enough, giggling. He’d just bent you over and ate you so well, your leg was still wobbly and shaky. Yet you yearned for more. Yearned for his body surrounding you, protecting you, caging you in his embrace. You were greedy. Needing, wanting, craving more.

Terry descended onto the bed, roughly grabbing your hips and sliding inside with a savage thrust.

“Oueeee, SHIT, Daddy!” You screamed. He slid out and then slid back in, coating his long dick with your essence.

“Cream this shit,” he moaned, sliding inside faster. His massive hands gripped your hips and pulled you onto his punishing dick, ramming into you. “Made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy, I was made for you,” you moaned. He stretched you beautifully, slamming into you just as rough as you wanted. As you needed.

“Just a pretty, tight hole for me to abuse whenever I want?” He asked.

You sobbed, tears gathering in your eyes once more. He hit that magical spot inside of you, the spot only he could reach. No other man, not even your toys, could hit that spot with such precision. With accuracy. He was just as much made for you.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, voice muffled by the covers. The bed dipped as Terry leaned over, planting a fist beside your head to hold up his weight. He used his other hand to grab a handful of braids and yank, baring your throat to him.

“I wish you could see how creamy you are. Pretty little ring on my dick. So nice and wet,” he cooed into your ear. He pulled your head back so that he could kiss you. His face smelled like you. You moaned and clenched around his dick. He hissed and then growled in your ear.

“Filling me so deep, Daddy,” you moaned. “So fuckin’ deep, ohmygoood.”

Terry chuckled. He shifted his hips and drove in deeper, possibly down to his base, as he fucked you into the mattress. Your hands stretched out in front of you, gripping onto the covers just trying to meet his thrusts.

“Untie me, Daddy. Let me feel you,” you begged.

Terry responded by kissing you, tongue licking your lips. You opened your mouth and played with his tongue. His beautiful, amazing tongue that was capable of the sweetest words and the filthiest things.

“You don’t know how to behave when you’re free,” he said against your cheek.

“I’ll behave, I promise,” you whispered.

Terry moaned, dick throbbing inside you. “I want to believe you,” he said.

He kept up his brutal, savage thrusts, digging into you and making your belly clench. “Pleasse, Daddy. I want to feel you,” you moaned.

“All you need to do is feel this dick, baby. Feel how much you mean to me. How much I want to take care of you,” he said.

Each thrust felt like it was going straight to your heart. There was no way you were still flooding his dick. Still making it easier for him to glide and thrust and stroke so far inside you, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

“Fuck me so good. So well,” you moaned.

Terry gripped your hips and then pulled you down harder, faster, rougher. You yelped and squealed, stretched out on the bed, trying to escape. Terry yanked you back, fingers digging into your skin harder.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you moaned. Your thighs trembled from trying to hold yourself up from his hold. He kept you in place, filling you, fucking you good and deep. Your eyes rolled back into your head. But still, your body propelled you forward. Both because of his thrusts and because you just couldn’t take any more. All the edging from earlier had you spent.

“Sit that ass up,” he panted, breaths falling across your damp back.

“C-Can’t,” you stuttered.

Terry grunted and pulled you by the hair until you were on your knees. He sat on his haunches, continuing to pound inside you.

“You keep telling me what you can’t do. But all this time you been takin’ this dick and doing what Daddy tell you to. Do you know how proud I am of you? So pretty when you listen,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Daddy, please,” you moaned.

Terry grabbed your arms and pulled it until the cuffs went over his head. It made you thrust out your chest and he grabbed your titties, playing with your sensitive nipples. He pinched and plucked as he fucked you, kissing your neck and biting your shoulder.

Your pussy made smacking noises on his dick, sounding thick and creamy. You moans mingled in the room, mixing with the pound of the headboard against the wall. You were constantly getting little dents in it from the force of your lovemaking. It was too much. You tried to sit on his lap but he grunted. “Mhm,” he said, pulling you into a kneeling position one more time.

“If I gotta stand you up one more time, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he snapped.

You whimpered and whined but concentrated on holding yourself up. His dick slammed into your walls while he kissed your neck. One hand gripped your titty and squeezed while his other hand searched lower, rubbing two fingers against your pussy.

You screamed out, unable to hold off this one. It gobbled you up with the force of it. Tearing you down to your roots, breaking you down to your center, to the very last atom that makes you you. You cried out, shaking, twitching.

Your vision turned black and your right ear rung with a tinny bell as you came and came in rolling waves. One triggered another for an extended orgasm, body jerking uncontrollably.

“Cum so pretty,” he said. “You ready for this nut?”

You could only manage a nod as he rolled his shoulders and moaned in your ear while he came, unloading a thick load of cum inside of you.

There was no more air in your lungs enough to moan. You could only sigh as he warmed you up from the inside, soaking your walls with his cum. Nothing leaked out as he continued to stroke into you.

Your body arched as he stilled, buried to the hilt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your jaw. He brought the fingers he used to play with your clit up to your mouth and bid you to suck.

“Taste that?” He asked.

You nodded. Too spent, too tired, to fucked out to do anything else but yawn. Terry chuckled, and slipped out. His cum leaked out with him, sliding down your leg and dripping onto the bed.

“Sleepy,” you mumbled.

“I know, baby. But let’s run you a bath first and I’ll change these sheets,” he said. He lowered your arms from his neck and then laid you on your side. He gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t let me catch you without your bracelets again,” he said.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you yawned, stretching out onto the bed to await his tender, loving aftercare.

WHEW. If you need more like I do, here ya gooo! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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kleopatra45 · 4 months ago

Note

Ooooh! Can you please talk about part of fortune in the house in solar return charts?

Part Of Fortune in Houses [Solar Return]

1st House

This placement indicates a year where your happiness and success are closely tied to personal growth and self-discovery. You may feel more confident and able to express yourself authentically, leading to opportunities that enhance your sense of self. Physical appearance, health, and vitality could also be a source of joy.

2nd House

With PoF in the 2nd house, financial success and material security are likely themes for the year. This could be a time when your income increases, or you find new ways to manage resources. The year may also bring clarity about what you truly value, leading to more aligned and fulfilling financial decisions.

3rd House

Happiness may come from interactions with your immediate environment, such as siblings, neighbors, or through writing, teaching, or studying. It’s a year where communication skills are highlighted, and you may find joy in sharing ideas or engaging in intellectual pursuits.

4th House

The focus this year is on your home life, family, and inner emotional world. You might find happiness through making your living space more comfortable or spending more time with loved ones. There’s a sense of emotional security and fulfillment that comes from your roots or past.

5th House

Expect a joyful and creative year, where pleasure, romance, and self-expression play a significant role. You might explore hobbies or talents that bring you happiness, or enjoy time with children or younger people. This can also be a time of romantic fulfillment and playful experiences.

6th House

The Part of Fortune in the 6th house suggests that your happiness this year comes from daily routines, work, and taking care of your health. You may find fulfillment in being of service to others or improving your well-being through better habits and self-care.

7th House

This placement indicates a year where relationships and partnerships are central to your happiness. You may experience growth through marriage, a significant partnership, or close friendships. Your interactions with others bring joy, and you may find success in collaborations.

8th House

The 8th house placement suggests a year of deep emotional or psychological transformation. You may find happiness in exploring the hidden or taboo aspects of life, such as through spiritual practices, therapy, or occult studies. Shared resources, inheritances, or financial investments may also bring unexpected gains.

9th House

You’re likely to find fulfillment through expanding your horizons, whether through travel, higher education, or exploring different cultures and philosophies. This year may involve spiritual growth, teaching, or publishing, with success coming from broadening your perspective.

10th House

A year where your career and public reputation are highlighted. You may achieve significant success or recognition in your professional life, and your ambitions are likely to be fulfilled. Your sense of happiness and purpose may be strongly connected to your achievements and standing in society.

11th House

With the PoF in the 11th house, your happiness is tied to social connections, friendships, and community involvement. You may find success through group activities, networking, or working towards a collective goal. It’s also a year where your hopes and dreams can manifest, especially with the support of others.

12th House

This placement suggests a year of introspection, solitude, and spiritual exploration. You may find fulfillment through retreating from the world, engaging in meditation, or exploring your subconscious mind. While it may be a more private year, the growth you experience internally can bring profound happiness.

©️kleopatra45

#astrology #astrology community #astroblr #astrology observations #astro notes #astrology tumblr #astrology readings #houses in astrology #astro community #solar return chart #solar return notes #solar return #part of fortune

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markster666 · 11 months ago

Text

Every Thought, You. (SFW)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Flirting, SFW, Romance

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 958

A/N: Thank you to @persephoneblck for this base writing prompt suggestion (with my own tweaks/spin). Unedited. Requests are open.

Ever since coming to the hotel, you have felt much less alone than you have ever felt in the duration of your life in Hell. Charlie was the first to greet you with open arms before you could even knock twice on the big, wooden doors. Vaggie was aprehensive about your arrival at first but quickly grew accustomed to you, mostly for Charlie's sake. Husk simply tolerated you and Angel Dust constantly flaunted his figure to... everyone. It made you chuckle sometimes but more out of pity. Every day and night, like clockwork, you did your exercises for supposed future rehabilitation and sometimes they made you feel more alone than ever, but you never felt judged by anybody there.

Not even Alastor.

The first time you two met, he was sitting at the bar, annoying Husk for another drink. You had arrived a couple days prior and had already settled in a good amount. You walked past the bar, not even paying attention to the deer demon staring at you, wide grinned. You almost reached your room before you heard a booming radio-esque voice behind you,

"Well HELLO there my dear! Haven't seen you around!"

You felt your heart skip a beat at the sudden noise and quickly turned around, taking in Alastor's features. His eyes reflected the red of the hotel walls, beaming at you. His ears twitched a bit at the sight of you, but his wide grin didn't falter even for a millisecond. He was dramatically hunched over with his hand out to shake yours. You stared at his hand for a bit until he retreated it as a sign that he caught on to your discomfort and he stood up straight.

"Apologies my dear, your look of fear is something I am graciously used to. I just wanted to extend my welcomes to you. Please indulge in my presence if you feel it necessary, I would LOVE to know what makes you tick!"

His head ticked to the side at the final word before turning on his heel and walking off.

As the weeks turned into months, Alastor's voice no longer startled you and his presence became comfort. You thought him charming and he thought you riveting. He allowed you access into his radio tower, even on his recording days. He had memorized your favorite song and learned it on every instruement and how pancakes make you nauseous in the mornings so you prefer oatmeal for breakfast. You once told him a new cologne of his smelled like all the good things in life, so now that's all he cares to wear. He learned that you have trouble sleeping without white noise, so he'll sit for hours next to your bed, gently humming in his radio voice your favorite songs. Your heart was pure and his heart was warm.

Alastor decided that tonight was the night that he was going to be open about his continuously growing feelings for you. He had gone through several sheets of paper in an attempt to write the perfect confession note and he finally settled on one. Earlier that afternoon, he had invited you to his room to talk and you said you'd be there. You have only been in his room once before because you went in with Val to ask Alastor to get rid of Sir Pentious's Egg Bois.

He heard a knock on the door and took one last deep breath before locking in his smile again and slamming the door open before you could knock again.

"Why hello there Darling, you look absolutely ravishing as usual my Dear!"

He gave you a quick kiss on your hand before leading you into his room and shutting the door behind him, helping you shrug off your jacket before hanging it up on a nearby hook.

"Please, My Dear, make yourself comfortable!"

You walked further into his room, scanning your surroundings before stopping right in front of the undefined line of where his physical room and the forest meet. Your eyes sparkled as you gazed up at the skyline.

"Alastor, your forest is absolutely beautiful."

He walked briskly to join you.

"Ah, yes, isn't it? I imported it myself. I delight in many meals here."

The sky stunned your senses. There were fireflies flying around the trees that rose submissively to the vast sky. The lavish green of the trees complimented well with the hues of blue shading above, the glow of the fireflies adding a etherial touch to it all. The thick fog made the sky's autonomy seem endless.

"It may just be the most beautiful thing i've seen in all of Hell."

Alastors eye twitches very slightly and his ears furrow backwards.

"I have to strongly agree with you, my Dear. Every time I gift my eyes with the sight of this, it helps me remember that there are still some fine things down here with me. I may be a connoisseur in all things audio, but nothing beats this kind of visual. I would relish in it for eternity if I could."

You glanced at him to show him that you were listening, only to have your eyes make direct contact with each other. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt his gaze penetrate you.

He was staring at me while he was saying that.

You smiled at him warmly as it finally clicked. He walked behind you and places his hands on your shoulders, gently massaging them as you both turned your gazes back to the forest.

"You, mon cher, are allowed to stay in my dreams every night. Always."

You took a deep breathe and closed your eyes, enjoying all of the sensations around you.

"And you in mine, Alastor."

#alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #radio demon #the radio demon #sfw

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imonanotherlebel · 4 months ago

Text

A Promise In Flames - Jacaerys Velaryon

Jacaerys Velaryon x Stark.Fem Reader

No family war, Rhaenyra is Queen

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Genre : Romance, Smut, arranged marriage, cold husband

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, kissing, penetrative sex, oral fem receiving, virginity, slight angst in the beginning

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The hall was adorned with the finest tapestries of House Velaryon and the dragon-sigil banners of House Targaryen. Every detail of the wedding had been planned to perfection, each element a reminder of the union between the eldest son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and the noble daughter of House Stark, Lady Y/N. Yet, amidst the grandeur, a deep-seated coldness lingered in Jacaerys Velaryon’s heart.

Y/N had heard the whispers among the courtiers, the talk of her husband’s resentment towards this marriage, a union born of political necessity rather than love. She had tried to show kindness, to be patient and understanding, but her efforts seemed to meet an unyielding wall of indifference.

On the night of their wedding, Y/N stood in the dimly lit bedchamber, her heart heavy with uncertainty. The gown she wore felt too ornate, too foreign against her skin, a symbol of the life she had entered into—a life where her husband did not yet see her as his wife.

Jacaerys entered the room, his steps heavy with the weight of duty. His dark curls fell messily around his face, his expression unreadable. He looked at Y/N with a distant gaze, one that pierced her heart more than any harsh words could.

“I will not consummate this marriage tonight,” he said, his voice cold and detached.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, but she managed a small nod, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “As you wish, my prince.”

Without another word, Jacaerys turned away, retreating to a separate chamber. The door closed with a resounding finality, leaving Y/N alone in the silence of the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the flickering flames in the hearth, tears welling in her eyes.

Days passed, and the distance between them remained, a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. Y/N continued to show him kindness in every small way she could—placing flowers from the garden on his table, ensuring his favorite dishes were served at meals, and offering him gentle smiles whenever their paths crossed. But Jacaerys, consumed by his own anger and frustration, remained aloof.

One evening, after a particularly tense day in the court, Jacaerys found Y/N sitting by the fire in their shared chambers, her needlework resting on her lap. She looked up as he entered, her eyes soft and welcoming, despite the coldness he had shown her.

He hesitated at the threshold, a wave of guilt washing over him. “Lady Y/N…”

Y/N set aside her needlework, her hands trembling slightly as she rose to her feet. “Yes, Jacaerys?”

He crossed the room, his steps slow and uncertain. “I owe you an apology,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been unfair to you, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she stepped closer to him, her heart aching at the sincerity in his words. “I know it must be hard for you, Jacaerys,” she said softly, her hand reaching out to gently touch his cheek. “I understand the frustration you must feel, but I want you to know that your mother did this out of love for you. She wants the best for you, as any mother would.”

Jacaerys closed his eyes at the warmth of her touch, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away. “I… I’ve been so blind, so wrapped up in my own anger that I didn’t see how much this must have hurt you.”

Y/N shook her head gently, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “You resemble her so much, you know. You’re strong, determined, and you carry the weight of your responsibilities with such grace. I see so much of her in you, Jacaerys.”

Her words struck a chord deep within him, unraveling the layers of bitterness he had clung to. “I don’t deserve your kindness, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“Jacaerys,” she whispered, her voice filled with a sweetness that tugged at his heartstrings. “I won’t rush you into anything. Take your time… I’ll wait for you, Jacaerys.”

She leaned in, pressing a soft, innocent kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering for just a moment before she pulled away. Her gesture was simple, yet it carried the weight of her unwavering patience and understanding.

Jacaerys opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a newfound respect and admiration. The tears that glistened in her eyes mirrored the emotions swirling within him—regret, sorrow, and a burgeoning affection that he had been too blind to see.

Weeks passed, and the tension between them slowly began to thaw. Jacaerys found himself noticing the small things Y/N did for him-the way she always made sure his favorite cloak was laid out on colder mornings, or how she would leave little notes for him on his desk, offering words of encouragement or gentle reminders to take care of himself.

Y/N's presence became a comforting balm to his troubled mind. He found solace in her quiet strength, in the way she never pushed him but was always there, a steady and unwavering force in his life. He began to seek her out more, not out of obligation, but because he genuinely enjoyed her company.

Yet, despite their growing closeness, there was still a part of him that held back. The wounds of his resentment were slow to heal, and while he had apologized, he knew there was still much he needed to make amends for.

One day, during a particularly heated council meeting, Jacaerys found himself at odds with several of the lords. A dispute had arisen over the borders of their lands, with some of the noble houses threatening to withdraw their support from Rhaenyra if their demands were not met. The situation was tense, with tempers flaring and no clear solution in sight.

Jacaerys felt the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, the burden of leadership heavy on his shoulders. As the meeting adjourned, he remained in the council chamber, lost in thought and frustration. He knew he had to find a way to resolve the issue, but the path forward seemed fraught with obstacles.

It wasn't until later that evening, when he returned to his chambers, that he learned the dispute had been resolved. His steward, a loyal servant who had been with the family for many years, informed him that the situation had been handled swiftly and effectively.

"How?" Jacaerys asked, surprise evident in his voice. "Who intervened?"

The steward smiled gently, a twinkle of pride in his eyes. "It was your lady wife, my prince. She met with the lords personally and convinced them to reconsider their positions. She spoke with such wisdom and grace that they could not refuse her."

Jacaerys was stunned. "Y/N... she did this?"

The steward nodded. "Indeed, my prince. She risked much to ensure the peace, she risked her life and the future of house Stark, and she did it all for you."

Jacaerys felt a wave of emotions crash over him - gratitude, admiration, and a deep sense of guilt. He had underestimated her and failed to see the strength and courage she possessed. And now, she had risked her and her house'e safety, all for his sake.

Without another word, Jacaerys turned and sprinted towards their chambers, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to see her, to thank her, to apologize for all the ways he had wronged her.

As he approached their chambers, he slowed his pace, his eyes catching sight of Y/N standing on the balcony, her figure bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. She was looking out at the evening sky, her expression serene and peaceful, unaware of the turmoil raging within him.

Jacaerys took a moment to drink in the sight of her, his heart swelling with a newfound admiration and love. He had been a fool, blind to the treasure he had been given in her. But no more. He would make it right.

He entered the chambers quietly, dismissing the servants with a quick wave of his hand. As Y/N turned to face him, surprise flickered across her features. "Jacaerys, is everything alright?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

Jacaerys didn't answer her with words. Instead, he closed the distance between them in a few quick strides, his hands reaching out to cup her face as he crashed his lips against hers. The kiss was urgent, filled with all the pent-up emotions he had been holding back-his guilt, his regret, and the growing love he could no longer deny.

Y/N gasped against his lips, her hands instinctively clutching at his tunic as she tried to steady herself. The intensity of his kiss took her by surprise, but she responded in kind, her heart racing as she melted into his embrace.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other's as they tried to catch their breath.

"Why?" Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Why now?"

Jacaerys closed his eyes, his hands still cradling her face. "Because I've been a fool, Y/N. I've been blind to the love you've shown me, to the sacrifices you've made. I've failed you as a husband, and I'm so, so sorry."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she listened to his words, her heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. "You don't have to apologize, Jacaerys," she whispered, her thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had begun to fall from his eyes. "I understand why you were angry. I never held it against you."

"But I should have been better," he insisted, his voice cracking with emotion. "I should have seen what was right in front of me all along. You are everything I never knew I needed, and I've been too blind to see it."

Y/N smiled softly, her hands moving to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palms. "I'm here, Jacaerys. I've always been here, waiting for you to see that."

Jacaerys leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. "And I see it now, my love. I see you, and I'll never let you go."

With those words, he captured her lips in another kiss, this one softer, sweeter, yet filled with a depth of emotion that took her breath away. As their lips moved together, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, bound together by the love that had finally blossomed between them.

Without breaking the kiss, Jacaerys lifted her into his arms, carrying her into the room. He moved with purpose, the weight of his earlier fears and doubts melting away as he focused solely on her.

They made their way to the bed, their hands roaming each other's bodies, their touches both tender and urgent. As they finally broke apart to catch their breath, Jacaerys gazed down at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desire. His hands trembled slightly as he set her down softly on the soft bed.

He paused for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked at her, drinking in every detail of her face. She was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had never known he needed.

As he began to remove her gown, he noticed the way her hands trembled, the way her breath quickened with nerves. Her wide eyes, usually so filled with kindness and warmth, now held a flicker of fear.

Jacaerys stopped immediately, his hands coming up to gently cup her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks in a soothing gesture.

"Y/N..." he began softly, his voice tender as he searched her eyes. "Do you know what is to happen between us now?"

She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "Um... Consummation?"

"Yes, my love," Jacaerys confirmed with a soft smile, "but do you know what we are about to do? Are you okay with it?"

Y/N looked down, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I don't... Jacaerys, I have never been taught what I am to do on a consummation night... I have never been touched..."

Jacaerys's heart ached at her confession, his hands moving to gently hold hers. "It's alright, my love," he assured her, his voice filled with understanding. "I have never touched a woman either... But I have picked up a few instructions from my nuisance uncles and brothers..."

Y/N let out a nervous laugh, her tension easing slightly at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I've never done this before either."

Jacaerys leaned in closer, his forehead resting against hers as he whispered, "Don't be nervous, Y/N. We'll learn this together, alright?"

She nodded slowly, her trust in him evident in the way she looked up at him, her eyes softening as she took comfort in his presence.

Jacaerys smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before moving to undress her, his movements slow and deliberate, giving her time to adjust. With each layer that fell away, he could feel her nervousness returning, but he kept his touch light, his kisses gentle, murmuring reassurances as he went.

When she was finally bare before him, Jacaerys took a moment to admire her, his eyes roaming over her body with a mix of awe and reverence. She was beautiful, more beautiful than he had ever imagined, and he felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him, a deep desire to cherish and worship every part of her.

He undressed himself next, his movements unhurried, giving her time to take him in as well. When he was finally naked, he moved to join her on the bed, his body hovering over hers as he leaned down to kiss her, their lips meeting in a slow, tender embrace.

Jacaerys deepened the kiss, his hands beginning to explore her body with a newfound confidence. He started at her neck, pressing soft kisses along her collarbone, moving lower with each breath. His hands followed suit, tracing the curves of her body, caressing her with a gentleness that made her shiver.

As his hands traveled lower, Y/N let out a small gasp, her body tensing slightly at the unfamiliar sensation. Jacaerys paused, lifting his head to look at her, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, though her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "I'm just... I'm just nervous," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

Jacaerys smiled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. "You're doing so well, my love," he murmured against her mouth. "Just let me take care of you. We'll take it slow."

Y/N nodded again, her body relaxing slightly as she gave herself over to him, trusting him completely. Jacaerys continued his exploration, his hands moving lower until they found the heat between her thighs.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting hers in silent question. When she nodded, giving him permission, he gently parted her legs, his fingers finding the slickness there. He began to stroke her slowly, his touch light and teasing, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N gasped at the sensation, her hips bucking involuntarily as pleasure began to build within her. Jacaerys watched her closely, his own arousal growing as he saw the way her body responded to his touch.

He leaned down to kiss her again, his fingers continuing their slow, deliberate movements, coaxing more moans from her lips.

Jacaerys trailed soft kisses down her body, his lips worshiping every inch of her skin as he descended lower, his heart pounding in his chest. When he finally reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his breath hitching as he took in the sight of her fully exposed to him.

For a moment, he simply stared, captivated by her beauty. His eyes traced the delicate folds of her heat, his fingers covered in her slick, his admiration evident in the way his gaze lingered. His heart swelled with a mixture of awe and desire, and he knew he wanted to worship her in every way possible.

He slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers, his hand gently brushing against her inner thigh. "Can I kiss you," he asked, his voice a low murmur filled with reverence. His gaze flicked back down to her heat, his fingers gently brushing over her petals as he added, "Here?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her face flushing a deep shade of red at his request. She hesitated for a brief moment, the unfamiliarity of the situation making her heart race. But when she saw the tenderness in his eyes, the genuine care in his voice, she nodded, her consent given with a shy smile.

Jacaerys didn't hesitate. He dipped his head lower, his lips pressing a soft, exploratory kiss to her most intimate place. He could feel her body tense beneath him, her nerves evident, but he continued his ministrations with a gentleness that put her at ease.

He parted her folds with his tongue, tasting her for the first time, and the experience sent a surge of arousal through him. Her taste was intoxicating, sweet and heady, and he found himself eager to please her, to draw more of those delicious sounds from her lips.

As his tongue explored her, he kept his movements slow and deliberate, paying close attention to her reactions. When he found the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core, he circled it with his tongue, his movements steady and rhythmic.

Y/N let out a soft moan, her body arching slightly in response to the pleasure that began to build within her. Jacaerys smiled against her, the sound of her pleasure fueling his own desire as he continued his oral ministrations.

He alternated between teasing flicks of his tongue and gentle sucking, his hands holding her hips in place as she writhed beneath him. He was determined to bring her to the peak of pleasure, to show her just how much he cared for her, how much he wanted to make this experience unforgettable for both of them.

When he felt her thighs begin to tremble, her moans growing louder, he knew she was close. He doubled down on his efforts, his tongue working her with an urgency that matched the need in his own body.

With a final, firm stroke of his tongue, he sent her tumbling over the edge, her body convulsing as she cried out his name, her hands clutching at the sheets beneath her. Jacaerys continued to lave her with his tongue, drawing out her pleasure until she was a quivering, breathless mess beneath him.

Only then did he pull away, his lips glistening with her arousal as he moved back up her body, his eyes filled with love and admiration as he took in the sight of her, flushed and panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, sharing her taste with her as he murmured, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I want to make you feel like this every day."

His voice was gentle, yet lust full. Getting her warmed up for the most intense part was his intention.

When he felt she was ready, he moved to position himself between her legs, his heart pounding with anticipation and nerves.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and trust. "Yes, Jacaerys... I'm ready."

He nodded, taking a deep breath as he guided himself to her entrance. He moved slowly, inching forward with careful precision, his eyes locked on hers as he watched for any sign of discomfort.

When he finally began to push inside, Y/N let out a small cry, her body tensing as she felt the unfamiliar stretch. Jacaerys paused immediately, his hands coming up to cradle her face as he kissed her gently, murmuring soothing words against her lips.

"You're doing so well, my love," he whispered. "Just relax. I'll go slow."

He resumed his movements, inching forward until he was fully seated inside her. He stilled for a moment, giving her time to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and face as he whispered words of comfort and love.

When he felt her body begin to relax around him, he started to move, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, allowing her to get used to the sensation. He could feel her tightness around him, her body clenching in response to his every movement, and it took all of his self-control not to lose himself completely.

Y/N moaned softly, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she began to move with him, her body responding to the pleasure he was giving her. Jacaerys leaned down to kiss her again, his lips moving against hers as he began to increase the pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he lost himself in the sensation of being inside her.

As their bodies moved together, the room filled with the sounds of their pleasure-soft moans, gasps, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Jacaerys's hands roamed her body, caressing her in all the right places, eliciting more moans from her lips.

He could feel the tension building within him, the tight coil of pleasure ready to snap at any moment. But he held back, wanting to bring her to the brink with him, wanting them to reach the pinnacle of their passion together.

"Jacaerys..." Y/N moaned, her voice breathless and filled with need.

Jacaerys's heart swelled at the sound of his name on her lips, the way she said it sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his core. "Say it again," he urged her, his voice husky with desire.

"Jacaerys..." she repeated, her voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.

Jacaerys groaned, his movements becoming more urgent as he felt himself nearing the edge. He reached down between them, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core, stroking her in time with his thrusts.

The combination of his movements and his touch sent Y/N spiralling, her body tensing as she teetered on the edge of release. "Jacaerys... I... I'm..." she gasped, her voice catching in her throat as she struggled to form words.

"Let go, my love," Jacaerys urged her, his own voice strained as he fought to hold back his own release. "I'm right here with you. Just let go."

With his words, Y/N finally fell over the edge, her body convulsing as pleasure washed over her in waves. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she cried out his name, her body clenching tightly around him as she came undone.

Jacaerys followed moments later, his own release crashing over him with an intensity that left him breathless. He buried his face in her neck, his body shuddering as he spilled inside her, their bodies still moving together in the aftermath of their passion.

They stayed like that for a long time, their bodies entwined, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Jacaerys pressed soft kisses to her skin, murmuring words of love and adoration against her ear.

When he finally pulled away, he looked down at her, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. "You're everything to me, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me."

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes filled with tears of happiness. "And I will spend the rest of mine loving you, Jacaerys," she replied, her voice soft and filled with love.

Jacaerys leaned down to kiss her again, their lips meeting in a slow, tender embrace, a promise of the future they would face together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

..............................

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popamolly · 10 months ago

Text

‘DANCE WITH THE DEVIL’ ALASTOR

summary. Alastor grapples with the realization that he might actually have feelings for you, as you contend with the internal conflict of obeying your mother's wishes or pursuing your own happiness.

warnings. dark romance, smut if you squint, human!alastor, age gap! you’re in your early 20s while Alastor is in his early 30s, you're naive, Alastor preys on your innocence, blood, kidnapping, implied murder, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. thank you so much for 800 followers! as well as the amount of love this story is getting! i am enjoying writing for human!Alastor and can’t for you all see where i’ll take this. enjoy sinners. (also, if you saw the rough draft and all the mistakes, no you didn’t)

One moment you were on Alastor’s cluttered desk and the next you were in his spacious bed. You had no idea how you got there as it all remained a mysterious blur. The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on both of your bodies as you two continued to move in sync with one another. Straddling his waist, the rhythmic dance against his hips had your head tossed back in pure bliss. It was a slow, deep, sensation that was vastly different from a few hours before.

His fingernails dragged across your back as he watched your face contort in pleasure, he loved the sight of you— the various marks on you caused by him stirred something within him. It made him wonder how many times can he break you before you crumbled into a million of tiny pieces.

Before you knew it, you were waking up in Alastor’s bed again, only this time you were alone just as the sun reached its peak in the sky. The sunlight was so bright you had to squint your eyes as you sat up in the bed. A delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and breakfast wafted through the air making your stomach grumble. Knowing that Alastor was perhaps in the kitchen, you pull the sheets from over you and go to stand, your legs felt like jelly and the soreness you felt in between your legs truly made it harder to walk.

You scanned the room for something to wear. All traces of modesty had disappeared since Alastor had taken you across nearly every piece of furniture in his possession, at that point what did you have to be modest about? Opting for one of his blouses, you opened his closet with the expectation of finding a more varied collection, only to discover that each blouse and pair of trousers adhered to a more monochromatic theme.

While reaching for a shirt, you accidentally knocked down another hanger. As you got on your knees to searched for the fallen garment on the floor, your fingertips brushed against a wooden box that was neatly tucked away into the shadows of the closet, sparking your curiosity. You sat down on the floor of the closet, dragging the box toward you to open it- but it was locked.

You decided to leave it be, excusing it as a mere heirloom or something of importance to Alastor. It was left in the back of your mind as you retreat from the closet, you changed into the blouse before leaving his bedroom to follow the delightful scent of breakfast- but before you left the room, you couldn't resist picking up Alastor's forgotten glasses from his nightstand.

As you made your way to the kitchen, the delicious scent of breakfast intensified. The memories of the night before lingered in your mind, a mix of passion and tenderness with Alastor. The soreness between your legs served as a reminder of the intimate moments you shared.

You found Alastor humming a jazz tune as he cooked, completely absorbed in his culinary endeavors. The clinking of utensils against pans filled the air, harmonizing with his cheerful humming. He turned to look at you, a smile spreading across his face.

"Well, good morning, my dear," Alastor greeted, his tone a mix of charm and, at least you hoped, genuine affection. "I hope you slept well."

"Goodmorning Alastor, I did sleep well, thank you," you returned his smile, feeling a sense of comfort in the domestic scene. The small kitchen table was set for two, adorned with a simple but elegant lace. Alastor had an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane tasks seem like an art form.

You took a seat at the table, placing his glasses carefully beside you. Alastor joined you, serving a delicious-looking breakfast onto your plate.

"Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the spread before you. "We had a long night so I am sure you are quite famished.”

You looked down at your silverware as you thanked him, your entire body heating up at the mention of your shared affairs last night as you dug into the meal, savoring the flavors. The comfortable silence between you and Alastor spoke volumes, a example of the connection formed between you two during the night.

Alastor sat across from you with a delighted hum, newspaper in hand while he sipped from his coffee mug in the other, "And how are you faring, my dear? I supposed I did get quite carried away." He broke the domestic silence with a grin, his eyes looking over your neck that was littered with marks. His marks.

"I'm fine," You say honestly, "I enjoyed it really, it was good...for my first time." You all but whispered the last part.

"Well that eases my worry," Alastor puts on his glasses to rest them on the bridge of his nose as he looks over his newspaper again, turning the page as he crosses his right leg over his left, “Let me know if you prefer tea in the morning, I have some brewing on the stove for the afternoon.”

Tea. You audibly gasp at the word as the realization dawned on you. You were supposed to be at home, sick in bed, and drinking tea— that was your cover for the night but the night was long since over. Glancing at the clock, you noticed that it was thirty minutes until eight o’clock, which was the usual time for breakfast to be served at your house. Your mother always expected you at the table a minute before her, groomed and ready for the day ahead. If you weren’t there on time then surely it’ll cause suspicion.

“I hate to cut this short but I have to go,” You hurriedly gobble up the rest of your food before standing up from your chair, “I have to be home soon or my mother will kill me!”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the irony in that, “Surely, you have time to at least finish your coffee?”

You spared the moment a thought but ultimately shook your head, “I’m sorry but I can’t,” you walked past Alastor to go into his bedroom to slip on your clothes from the night before. His footsteps followed, accompanied by the jingle of car keys in hand.

As you hurriedly grabbed your belongings, Alastor offered to ease your worry with a smile, "I'll drive you home. No need to rush alone in your state of distress."

Grateful for the assistance, you nodded in agreement, and together, you both left his place. You felt different now, a bit lighter, more mature as you slipped into the passenger side of Alastor's car. He held the door open and closed it for you like a true gentleman. The car ride was filled with light banter, Alastor's charismatic demeanor easing the tension that lingered from your hasty departure.

Once you reached your home, Alastor parked the car a little ways away from your estate and turned to you. "Thank you for the company, darling. I hope your mother's wrath is not as fearsome as you anticipate."

You chuckled nervously, appreciating his understanding. "I hope so too. And thank you for everything, Alastor.. I enjoyed our time together."

He leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and planted a gentle kiss on your lips. "Until we meet again," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

With a promise to see each other soon hanging in the air, you slipped through the back door of your home, grateful for the concealment it offered. Hastily, you made your way to your room, hurriedly taking off the clothes from the night before taking a moment to compose yourself. You had only a few minutes to spare and you couldn't waste them.

After freshening up in your own personal water closet, you did your hair as neatly, and quickly, as you could— following up with a light touch of makeup. The faint taste of Alastor's farewell kiss lingered, and you couldn't help but smile at your reflection in the mirror. Now, groomed and ready, you braced yourself for the day ahead and the potential questions your mother might have about your ailment.

You rushed downstairs into the dining room, the scent of freshly brewed tea and warm toast filling the air. Just as you took your seat, your mother entered, her expression stoic. Unfazed, you greeted her with a bright smile, attempting to mask any trace of your recent escapades.

"Good morning Mother, How did you sleep?" you asked cheerfully, reaching for the toast as if it were any ordinary morning.

Your mother eyed you with a raised eyebrow, as she sat down at the head of the table, allowing the maid beside her to pour her tea, "Well enough, dear. I found myself tossing and turning all night. And you? That cold seemed to be really troubling you last night."

You laughed nervously, hoping your casual demeanor would deflect any probing questions. "It was, I could hardly get out of bed last night but thankfully sleep eventually came."

She continued to observe you, suspicion lingering in her gaze. Of course she knows you snuck out but she wouldn't reveal her cards too early. She would let you have this win for now in the hopes that when your rendezvous did come to light, your spirit would be so crushed by then that you'd have no other choice but to lean on your mother for support because she knew that this was a mere distraction for you and you were nothing but a toy to the man that wanted to use you. Your mother should know, after all she was a young girl once herself. "Mm-hmm," she responded, not fully convinced as she eyed the turtleneck dress you wore. "Anything interesting happen last night?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you maintained your composure. "Not really, just a quiet night. How about you? Anything exciting on your end?"

She hesitated, scrutinizing you for a moment before deciding to drop the subject. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual."

Relieved, you continued with a light breakfast, inwardly sighing at the narrow escape. Little did your mother know about the intriguing night you had spent with Alastor, and you hoped to keep it that way—for now, at least.

As you sipped your tea, hoping to steer the conversation away from any further inquiries, your mother decided to drop a bombshell. With a casual tone, she announced, "Silly me, but I forgot to mention that we're hosting a party in two days. We must prepare you for that so I have list of errands we need to run. Oh, and I've decided it's time that I take over in your matchmaking process."

Your eyes widened in surprise, nearly choking on your tea. "A party? Matchmaking? Mom, that's a bit sudden, isn't it?"

Your mother smiled innocently as she was spreading jam on her toast. "Nonsense, dearest. You've had quite a bit of freedom lately, and I think it's only fair that I take charge of finding you a suitable partner."

You were taken aback by the revelation. "Mom, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle my own affairs. I don't need you picking a match for me."

She raised an eyebrow, her expression turning serious. "And where has that led us? It's time to consider your future. I've arranged for some eligible suitors to attend the party, and by the end of the night, we'll have a decision."

You felt a sense of frustration and helplessness. The control over your own choices slipping away yet again, replaced by the traditional expectations your mother seemed determined to enforce. As you finished your breakfast, a sense of foreboding settled in—the upcoming party was more than just a social gathering. It held the potential to reshape your life in ways you may not be ready for.

As the conversation about the upcoming party lingered, a maid entered the room, carefully placing a radio on the table. You couldn't help but notice that this particular maid was new, and a quick glance around revealed that the other servants bustling about the home were also unfamiliar faces.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you leaned in and asked your mother, "Mother, What happened to our usual staff?"

Your mother, engrossed in the morning radio, responded nonchalantly, "Oh, I fired them, dear. They simply weren't meeting my standards. Now, please hold your tongue; I'm trying to listen to the morning news."

You were left you speechless, a mix of surprise and concern washing over you. The familiar faces that had been a constant presence in your household were replaced without warning. You couldn't help but wonder what had transpired behind the scenes and what might be the real reason for this sudden change. Then you realized that maybe your mother knew of your outing with Alastor and she was acting like she didn't, and if she was, why was she acting clueless?

Your mind began swirling with questions about the upcoming party, the matchmaking, and now the unexplained dismissal of the longtime staff. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, leaving you with an uneasy feeling about the changes that were unfolding in your once-familiar surroundings.

"Oh, what a delightful morning it is! I trust everyone enjoyed a restful night, as I certainly did!" Alastor's voice resonated through the radio, carrying a distinct weight. Despite being the renowned radio show host, he seemed like an entirely different person. Though the broadcast introduced some static, his charm remained. "Let's kick off this morning with some smooth jazz tunes, shall we? I have Louis Armstrong & His Hot Seven's top hits ready to grace your ears! We'll return shortly after this brief interlude, folks!"

Alastor flipped off one switch on his microphone and activated another. The sounds of "Potato Head Blues" filled the airwaves, spreading throughout New Orleans. While the jazz played in the warehouse, Alastor rose from his chair with an irritated groan, heading towards a locked closet at the end of the hall. Using a key, he unlocked the door and descended the creaky wooden stairs. As he reached the bottom step, another voice in the room caught his attention.

"Mmmh!" The person, bound to a chair with a cloth in their mouth, struggled against their restraints, fear evident in their eyes as they observed Alastor approaching with a stoic expression. Tear-filled eyes followed his movements as he walked to a table in the corner, his fingertips brushing over an array of displayed knives. "Mmmph! Hmph!"

"Your grunts and stifled screams are growing rather tiresome," Alastor remarked, his hand hovering over one of his cherished knives with a sinister grin. Lifting it up, the blade gleamed in the light. "I understand it's rather solitary in this space. You were supposed to have a companion, but," Alastor pulled a wooden chair across the floor, creating an unsettling echo against the concrete. He positioned himself in front of the restrained individual, heightening the bone-chilling atmosphere, "plans change."

Alastor glided the blade deliberately across the person's cheek, the chilling touch of the metal causing involuntary shivers. Despite their struggles against the restraints, Alastor sighed, tapping the blade against their skin in a disturbingly mocking rhythm.

"This person, this woman," Alastor mused, tilting his head to the side, "is confusing me, and I don't like it." The sadistic atmosphere in the room thickened as he increased the pressure of the blade against their cheek, drawing blood. Suddenly, he halted, as if a realization had struck him.

"But I don't hate it either," Alastor declared with an unsettling calmness, leaving an ominous pause that lingered in the air. The duality of his emotions toward the captive person added a perplexing layer to the unfolding scene, intensifying the disturbing nature of the situation.

Alastor, maintaining his eerie composure, turned to the restrained person and asked, "What do you think? Is it true love?" A twisted amusement gleamed in his eyes as he awaited a response.

A cruel chuckle escaped him as he noticed the person's inability to answer, their mouth securely gagged. The absurdity of the question in the face of their silent predicament seemed to amuse the madman further. The room resonated with Alastor's unsettling laughter, creating an atmosphere of malevolence that hung heavily in the air. The captive, helpless and silenced, could only endure the scene unfolding before them knowing that this would be the last sight they ever see.

"One, two, three, one, two-" The ballroom echoed with the rhythmic counting of the waltz, your mother diligently guiding you through the steps. As you twirled with your elderly dance partner, your mind drifted to Alastor. The memory of dancing with him under the stars tugged at your heart, and an undeniable longing for him filled your thoughts.

In the midst of the waltz, you couldn't shake the yearning to be with him, whether listening to his radio broadcasts or engaging in casual conversations over coffee. The mere thought of Alastor sent your heart racing, leaving you flustered and questioning the nature of these emotions. Was this love? The answer seemed evident with each flutter of your heart, each bounce of the balls of your feet. Love, it seemed, had taken root in your heart.

The dance partner, an elderly servant, winced as your foot landed squarely on his toes. "I am so sorry!" you began to apologize, but your mother's sharp voice cut through the room.

"A woman must be graceful like a swan," she admonished, tapping the back of your thighs with a cane, the sting making you wince, "not a tumbling tiger."

"I—" You attempted to offer excuses, but your mother's stern gaze silenced you.

"You are distracted," she declared, shaking her head in disapproval. "I need you to dismiss whatever is taking over your mind and be present. The ball is tomorrow, and I can't have you embarrassing me on your big day." The weight of her expectations pressed upon you, urging you to set aside your personal feelings and focus on the upcoming event.

A heavy sigh escaped your mother's lips as she turned her attention to the elderly servant. "You may leave us," she instructed, her tone carrying a hint of disappointment. The servant bowed slightly, acknowledging the dismissal before exiting the ballroom.

Now alone, your mother circled you, her scrutinizing gaze causing you to shrink under her watchful eyes. The atmosphere grew tense as she examined you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

With each step, your mother's presence loomed, and the weight of her expectations seemed to intensify. The impending ball was not just an event; it was a reflection of her social standing, and any misstep could ruin her reputation. As she circled, you couldn't help but feel the pressure to conform to her ideals and expectations, the desire for personal connection and freedom momentarily eclipsed by the demands of societal decorum.

Your mother's gaze didn't miss the marks on your neck you tried to hide, remnants of the passionate night you spent with Alastor. She dismissed it with a grimace, a silent disapproval lingering in her expression.

As the tension in the room hung thick, your mother took a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak once again. "Did I ever tell you the story of how I was in love?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"Of course, you and father—" you began, but your mother cut you off with a firm gesture. "This was before your father. Before everything…before I became a woman of high society."

The weight of her words hung in the air, and you could sense that she was about to share a piece of her past, a side of her life that you hadn't even thought to acknowledge. As the ball loomed on the horizon, the barriers between you and your mother seemed to momentarily lower, providing a glimpse into a time when love and passion took precedence over societal expectations.

"I fell in love with a man during the summer months," your mother began, her voice carrying a bittersweet tone. She continued to circle you, sharing the intimate details of a past you had only glimpsed before. "He swept me off my feet quickly, and I was blinded by that love because, in my eyes, he was my happily ever after."

Your eyes widened as you listened intently to your mother's story. The ballroom, once filled with the echoes of waltz music, now held a poignant atmosphere as she delved into her personal history.

"I was merely a farmer's daughter, and he, a factory worker. It truly was a good match. But…" Her mother's expression darkened at the memory. "My dear, you can give a man everything, every ounce of your entire being, and he will still want more."

As the weight of her words settled, you could sense the bitter undertones of regret and heartache in your mother's story. It opened a window into her past, a time when love seemed boundless, yet reality had its own lessons to impart. The circling continued, each step a reminder of the complexities that love could bring.

"What I thought was love was nothing but a game to him," your mother continued, her voice carrying the weight of past heartache. The circling ceased abruptly, and her cane tapped hard against the ballroom floor as if emphasizing the gravity of her words. "He was gone with autumn, taking everything I had given him—my money, my body…my soul. I would've been truly ruined if it wasn't for your father."

She stood in front of you, gripping your chin harshly, forcing you to meet her gaze with glossy eyes. "I say all of that to say, do not be fooled by a wolf in sheep's clothing."

The words hung in the air, resonating with the tale she had just shared. The ballroom, once a place of elegance and grace, now echoed with the cautionary wisdom of a mother who had weathered the storms of love and loss. The vulnerability in her eyes and the firmness of her grip conveyed the sincerity of her warning, urging you to tread carefully in matters of the heart.

"I don't care what you do from this point forward but know this, you will attend the ball in your honor and you will marry the man who I deem worthy of you, understood?" After your mother releases her grip from your chin, tapping her cane once more, she steps aside, allowing you to pass. "Practice is over. You may go," she declares.

The aftermath of this encounter leaves tears welling in your eyes and a heavy weight in your chest. Unable to meet your mother's gaze, you hurry past her, fleeing the ballroom without a backward glance. In your rush, you even collide with a maid, but offer no apology as you hurry out the front door. Emotions swirl within you, mingling anger towards your mother with a deeper frustration directed toward yourself. The struggle between fulfilling family expectations and pursuing your own happiness weighed heavily on your mind. Are you truly prepared to forsake everything for Alastor? And more importantly, would he do the same for you?

Descending the stone steps of your home in haste, you decided to find Alastor and confront the questions you've been avoiding. Only his response would determine your next move.

"Mr. Ray?" You lean down to peer through the driver's side window, where your family chauffeur is taking a cigarette break. His complexion blends seamlessly with the setting sun. "Could you take me somewhere?"

"Without your mother?" He arches an eyebrow. "I believe you still require a chaperone, young lady."

"She allowed me out for the afternoon as long as I am back before curfew. Please, I'll be under your watchful eye. I promise to behave," you nearly beg, your puppy-dog eyes meeting his.

With a resigned sigh, the chauffeur relents. "Get in," he says, giving in to your plea and falling for your sweet lie.

With a sense of purpose, you climbed into the car, knowing that the journey ahead would be filled with uncertainty but you were determined in proving your mother wrong, you wanted to follow your happiness and Alastor was that happiness because in your mind— no, in your heart, you knew you loved him.

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joelsrose · 2 months ago

Text

Valentine’s Day

fluff!!

i think i might make a little mini-series of cute fluff one shots of reader travelling w/ Joel - same vibe as polaroids

The road stretched endlessly ahead, an unbroken ribbon of cracked asphalt and brittle grass edging the silence between you and Joel. Time had lost its edges, slipping by in indistinguishable layers—sunrise and sunset melting into a quiet, unending rhythm. You both found small ways to measure the days, counting by the frost thickening in the mornings or the way your breath lingered longer in the air.

He’d been quiet that morning, gaze fixed on the horizon, shoulders curled inward in a way you’d come to recognize—a silent signal of his retreat into himself. Only when he finally spoke, his voice roughened by the cold, did you catch a faint trace of what lay beneath.

“Mid-February,” he muttered, the words barely a whisper, his eyes distant, unfocused, as though he were seeing beyond the leafless trees and frost-bitten fields, someplace far beyond reach.

The realization settled quietly within you, a subtle truth he likely hadn’t even noticed you told yourself—that today wasn’t just any other day.

Valentine's Day.

Just another day, you told yourself. And yet, as you looked over at Joel, his face softened by the pale winter light, the weight of what once was—of love, of yearning, of lives that once had space for days like this—felt as tangible as the frost clinging to the earth.

Days like this should have been trivial, stripped of meaning in the world you were barely holding onto now. And yet, as the realization settled—Valentine’s Day, here, with Joel—an ember of something unspoken flickered in the thick silence between you.

It was ridiculous, pointless even, to care about a day that belonged to a life long gone. But somehow, it mattered.

Joel hadn’t missed the thought either—not that he’d ever let on. But something shifted, a fleeting spark in his gaze, a quick, sidelong glance that brushed over you before he retreated behind the rough, impenetrable armor he wore so well. You hadn’t known him in those days, back when he was a different man, softer around the edges, before the world had carved out the unyielding hardness he carried now.

Once, he’d been the type for quiet gestures, his version of romance wrapped in a humble simplicity—a bouquet picked up on the way home from work, a meal at a place that felt like a splurge, maybe even a soft tune played on his guitar, chords strummed slow and low, just for someone he loved.

That version of Joel was a memory now, a part of him buried under years of survival. But here, in that brief, unguarded look, you glimpsed a shadow of who he’d once been, a reminder of the life he’d lost but hadn’t entirely forgotten.

But that part of him was buried now, hidden beneath layers of loss in a world that left no room for tenderness.

Still, in the quiet moments between you, there was a glimmer—a barely-there echo of the man he might have been, of a Valentine’s Day he hadn’t entirely let go. It was a trace, a faint whisper of something unforgotten, lingering in the way his gaze softened just a fraction when it met yours, a warmth hidden in the spaces where words failed.

In those rare silences, you felt it—a fragile remnant of a man who, once upon a time, might have known how to love gently.

~~~

You were passing through another nameless place, its ghostly streets and faded signs blending into the countless towns you’d left behind. The road stretched ahead, winding into the dense sprawl of forest, the trees casting shadows that grew longer as the sun dipped low on the horizon.

You walked a few paces ahead of Joel, each step sending a dull ache through your feet, the exhaustion settling into your bones as the sky blazed in hues of deep orange and soft pink—a sunset bleeding into dusk. The silence between you was familiar now, a quiet rhythm you’d both learned to live in, broken only by the steady crunch of your boots on loose gravel and the faint, reassuring echo of Joel’s footsteps behind you.

“We’ll camp here tonight,” he murmured, his voice low, carrying a quiet certainty as he surveyed the encroaching darkness and the shadows stretching long beneath the trees. There was a practiced ease in the way he assessed the fading light, an instinct honed by years on the road, as if he could read the landscape’s secrets in a single glance.

“Okay,” you replied, nodding without hesitation. You trusted Joel’s instincts implicitly, each decision sharpened by years of survival and weighed with a quiet precision. There was a steady comfort in following his lead, in the silent assurance that, whatever lay ahead, he would be the one standing between you and the darkness.

It was more than trust—it was a fragile kind of faith, the certainty that he’d weather the night so you didn’t have to face it alone.

You’d set up camp, sinking down against a rough, weathered log, the bark pressing into your back as you released a tired sigh. Joel muttered something about gathering firewood, his voice a low murmur that blended with the evening quiet as he scanned the tree line.

You watched him disappear into the dimming light, his silhouette broad and unyielding against the last slivers of sunset. It was a rhythm you’d come to rely on—his quiet, unwavering sense of duty, always ensuring you had warmth and protection.

Joel wandered, his steps slower than usual, his thoughts snagging on the way your eyes had brightened when he’d offhandedly mentioned the date. He hadn’t intended for it to mean anything—just a passing remark—but there was something about the look you’d given him, unexpected and strangely soft, that lingered.

It unsettled him—a quiet reminder of feelings he’d thought long buried. And yet, here they were, surfacing more persistently since he’d met you, weaving through his thoughts like a memory he couldn’t quite shake.

He’d been gathering firewood, but his attention drifted, his gaze settling on a small patch of wildflowers nestled in the underbrush. Soft purple petals, delicate against the rugged landscape, caught his eye. Before he even realized what he was doing, he reached down, fingers brushing the blooms as he plucked a few. His hands moved on instinct, guided by something quiet and unguarded, a small gesture he hadn’t intended yet couldn’t resist.

With the flowers clutched in his hand, he froze.

What the hell was he doing?

Joel stood there, caught in the deepening shadows, his grip tightening around the fragile stems as he began to pace, second-guessing himself in a way that felt almost absurd. He wasn’t the kind of man who picked flowers—not anymore, not for a long time.

But somehow, being around you had pulled him into unfamiliar territory, unearthing pieces of himself he’d long thought buried. You brought out a quiet tenderness in him, nudging him toward gestures that went beyond mere survival—small acts he tried to brush off as routine but that hinted at a fondness he fought to suppress.

After absentmindedly picking flowers for you, it became glaringly obvious to Joel that he cared for you—deeper than an acquaintance, a friend, or even a fellow traveler on this harsh road. It showed in the way he’d insist on carrying your pack, ignoring the twinge in his back with a muttered, “Not a big deal,” brushing off your concern like it was nothing. He’d save you half of whatever he was eating, passing it over with a quiet, “Thought you’d want some.” He’d keep an extra eye out for little things he knew you’d like—an old book salvaged from a wrecked house, or a stray packet of coffee he’d hand you with a gruff, “Found it along the way.” And on those rare, bone-tired nights by the fire, he’d sit just a bit closer than he had to, his shoulder brushing yours, grounding you both in a warmth neither of you dared to name. All small gestures he hadn’t made for anyone in years.

~~~

Back at camp, a quiet worry began to take hold as your gaze lingered on the darkening treeline. He’d been gone longer than usual, and with each passing moment, the shadows grew, stretching across the ground as the forest settled into an uneasy silence, the last traces of daylight fading away. It was in moments like these that the weight of how much you relied on him settled over you—how your survival had come to depend on his presence, his strength. You tried not to let those thoughts creep in, but sometimes, they slipped past your defenses: how would you survive without Joel?

Just as you were on the verge of getting up to search for him, he appeared from the shadows, his figure solidifying against the dim glow of twilight. His gaze held a quiet intensity, a flicker of something unspoken as he drew closer, and you felt the tension in your chest unravel, replaced by a warmth you couldn’t quite name. A breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding slipped out as you rose to meet him, a silent relief settling over you at the simple fact of his return.

“Where were you?” you asked, the worry threading through your voice despite your attempt to keep it steady. That soft edge, the unmistakable concern in your tone, stirred something deep within him—something he had realized was still there, something that felt both foreign and achingly familiar, tugging at a part of himself he thought had long since withered away.

"Just… looking for firewood," he muttered, his gaze dropping to the rough bundle in his arms as he scratched the back of his neck, almost sheepishly. You nodded, though a faint trace of doubt lingered; something told you he hadn’t just been out collecting wood. But it didn’t matter now—he was here, and the sharp edge of your worry softened, melting into a quiet reassurance only his presence could bring. The weight that had settled in your chest eased, leaving you with a sense of calm that had become rare in times like these.

You stepped closer, reaching out to take some of the firewood from his arms, your fingers brushing his for a brief moment. “Next time, don’t take so long,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with a quiet intensity. “You scared me.”

He mumbled, “’M sorry,” his gaze flickering away, yet you caught a hint of something deeper in his expression—a question he wouldn’t voice, a wondering if this—whatever it was between you—meant as much to you as it was beginning to mean to him.

Unbeknownst to you, he’d slipped the flowers deep into his pocket, his fingers brushing over the delicate petals every so often, as though they were something precious and fragile he wasn’t quite ready to let go of. He kept them hidden, a quiet secret pressed against his palm, a small piece of softness he wasn’t yet ready to share.

~~~

Later, as you lay wrapped in your sleeping bag, the world around you wrapped in darkness and silence, you turned toward Joel. He lay on his back, eyes fixed on the night sky, his familiar steady presence somehow softened, quieter. There was something different about him tonight, a quietness that felt deeper, as if he were lost in thoughts he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—share.

“You okay?” you murmured, your voice barely breaking the stillness around you. He turned his head slightly, his gaze finding yours in the dim light, and for a moment, his usual guarded expression softened. There was a warmth there, something almost vulnerable flickering in his eyes, before he gave a small nod.

“Yeah,” he replied softly, though his voice wavered, something unreadable passing over his face. “It’s February… mid-February,” he added, as if stating a simple fact, his gaze distant.

You nodded, watching him carefully. “You mentioned that this morning,” you said, curiosity tugging at your tone as you tried to read his expression, wondering where he was going with this.

“I, uh… I found somethin you might like’.” His hand shifted, reaching into his pocket, and he pulled out a small, crumpled handful of purple wildflowers. They were a little wilted, their petals slightly crushed from being tucked away, but there was a tender, almost shy quality to the gesture that caught your breath. The sight of those fragile blooms, offered with a rough gentleness, made your heart stumble.

“Joel… what’s all this?” you murmured, sitting up onto your elbows, your eyes wide with surprise and a warmth you didn’t dare put a name to.

He looked away, a faint flush creeping onto his face as he mumbled, “Figured, since it’s around Valentine’s Day and all… I know it ain’t much. Couldn’t exactly get you fancy chocolates or flowers from a stord.” His voice softened, almost unsure, as he extended the fragile blooms toward you. “Sorry you gotta spend the day with me… not sure if you were ever into all this stuff,” he added, his gaze lingering on the ground, as if afraid to meet your eyes.

A quiet warmth bloomed in your chest as you looked down at the flowers resting in his calloused hand. In this harsh, broken world, they were the most beautiful thing you’d seen—not for what they were, but for everything they meant. It almost hurt to hear Joel think you’d rather be with someone else, as if he couldn’t see how much his presence alone meant to you.

He’d thought of you, gone out of his way to bring a touch of softness into a life that seldom allowed for it. “This is perfect.” You hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment before adding, “There’s no one else I’d rather spend it with.” Your words were quiet, but the smile that softened your features spoke volumes as you accepted the flowers from his hands. “Thank you, Joel.”

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you leaned over and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his cheek. It was a simple gesture, tender and brief, but it left him stunned, his breath catching. The cover of night shielded the warmth rising to his face, but in the quiet that followed, he found himself grateful for the darkness—grateful, too, for you.

He cleared his throat, searching for the right words. “It’s, uh… it’s nothin’,” he mumbled, voice rougher than usual, though it couldn’t quite mask the tremor underneath. “Just… don’t go gettin’ used to this kinda thing, alright?”

But despite the gruffness in his tone, his gaze softened as he looked at you, a warmth there that he couldn’t quite hide. You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you snuggled back into your sleeping bag. “Alright, grumpy pants,” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Good night.”

He huffed, a sound of faint indignation, though you didn’t miss the flicker of a smirk just before he turned away, muttering, “Yeah, yeah. G’night.”

As you drifted off, the faint scent of wildflowers lingered in the cool night air, wrapping around you both in a gentle reminder of the moment you’d just shared. Neither of you spoke, but in that quiet exchange, something settled—a fragile, unspoken connection that made the night feel a little softer, a little less lonely.

It was a small thing, delicate and unassuming, but it was there, woven into the silence.

Maybe later, you’d press those wildflowers between the pages of one of the books Joel had scavenged for you, preserving them as a quiet promise that would last long after the petals had faded.

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kkami-writes · 1 year ago

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that hufflepuff boy

pairing. hufflepuff!felix x slytherin!fem!reader ft! hufflepuff!bangchan, slytherin!seungmin, ravenclaw!hyunjin synopsis. The moment you stepped into the halls of Hogwarts your classmates had deemed you as the princess of slytherin, a title you learned to hate. If only they knew that the cold, seemingly proper girl was absolutely head over heels for Hufflepuff's resident sunshine boy, Lee Felix. tags/cw. hogwarts!au, fluff, maybe some angst if you squint, lots and lots of mutual pining, acquaintances to lovers, side seungjin, smut, slight corruption, public sex (library), virgin!felix, oral (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (princess, love), unprotected sex (don't do it), swallowing of cum

disclaimer!!! both felix and reader are 18+, consenting adults at the time of smut. word count. 5k (5,155)

The first time you had met Felix is during third year, on a random spring morning as the two of you were paired up during potions. It had been a rough first three years for you as the nickname of Slytherin’s princess had been pushed upon you solely based on your parents' old-fashioned views. Even in this more progressive time, there were still a fair amount of pure-blood purists despite it being an unpopular stance after the second wizarding war.

Still, people had assumed you had thought the same as your parents and being sorted into slytherin hadn’t helped your case. Reluctantly, you instead fell into your role as the prim and proper princess they thought you were - no one had ever bothered to even ask if you could think for yourself or had your own opinions. Although you did have a few actual friends, the isolation you had felt from your peers had made you slightly bitter.

So when you’re paired up with a random hufflepuff who gives you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, one that could easily rival the sun - you’re a little starstruck. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this and it easily makes your cheeks darken. He treats you like a normal person, as if you were already friends and it’s…refreshing to say the least. The last person you got partnered up with had sat as far away from you as they could and didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary.

You’re surprised that you work well with the boy, him making small conversation and keeping you engaged in the potion work. Felix is nice, almost too nice, and you’re sure he’s like this with everyone but you still feel a surge of happiness when he laughs at one of your small jabs. You can’t help but think the sound is just as sweet as him.

As class ends, you’re packing up your books and Felix waves goodbye to you with that pretty smile on display.

“Bye! I hope we can talk again!” Then he’s gone and you’re left sitting there a little dazed as you stare at his retreating figure, something stirring in your chest that you’re not 100% sure of, but you do know one thing.

And it’s that Felix is made up of sugar, everything nice and sun kissed freckles, and you’re pretty sure you’re fucked.

By fifth year you had fully recognized that the flowers blooming your chest was pure adoration for the hufflepuff. You had been sitting in the library with Seungmin, who was busy with his nose in a book and blatantly ignoring your obvious heart eyes towards a certain boy who sat not too far away at his own table; him and his quidditch captain Chan were probably going over some strategies for the upcoming game this weekend. Hyunjin was on your left, the ravenclaw busy with another one of his drawings he often did.

You let out a small dreamy sigh, one that was barely audible but it was enough to have your fellow slytherin rolling his eyes and closing his book. “Are you for real? You look so pathetic…how long have you been pining over that hufflepuff for?” He groans, throwing his head back.

“Aw, I think it’s kinda cute,” Hyunjin chimes in, not looking up from his drawing.

“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,”

“Ok mister I read romance novels,” At this Seungmin’s ears tinge red and you think he might throw his book at the male. They thought you were annoying with your crush? They should look at themselves. With Seungmin thinking he was slick with his hidden gazes towards the ravenclaw or the many sketches Hyunjin had of the slytherin.

“Can you two shut up? I’m busy pining over here,” They both roll their eyes at you now.

“Honestly? I’m surprised he’s your type. I thought someone like Minho hyung was your type,”

“It’s because Felix is the only one willing to give yn any time of the day,” You swat at Hyunjin for that and he simply clutches his arm dramatically, whining your name.

As you play fight with your friends (was it really playing though? The three of you were probably gonna get kicked out of the library soon), it goes unnoticed by you that someone else had been staring a little too long over at your table, his eyes sparkling as he watched you interact with the two who were usually never seen without you. He’s pulled from his thoughts as his own best friend and quidditch captain Chan nudged him from his tiny daydream.

“You good mate? You've been staring at her for a while. We are supposed to be going over strategies,” He teases lightly as he watches Felix’s ears turn a little red.

“Um, right. Sorry! I’ll focus, I promise,” Chan laughs, his signature dimples showing as he ruffles up the blonde’s hair.

“It’s fine, I should probably go study for my n.e.w.t.s anyway and we have practice tomorrow so we can go over more stuff,” Felix nods, agreeing with him before his gaze is once again glancing over towards you and it looks like you’re about to strangle Seungmin, while Hyunjin holds you back by your robes with a bored look on his face. He can’t help but laugh at your guy’s ministrations - he loved that you had slowly come out of your shell since third year and had found some good friends.

Well, at least he hoped they were just friends. He wouldn’t go as far to say the two of you were friends either, just acquaintances, mostly talking to each other in the halls when you passed by or occasionally partnering up during class. But Felix still did not have the guts to ask you out on a date, the fear of rejection controlling him. Chan is nudging him again and he’s pulled out of yet another daydream.

“Damn, you’ve got it bad huh? You’ve barely even talked to her for the last two years,” “Hey, that’s not true!! I say hi to her everytime I see her in the hall!”

“Uh huh. Why are you so interested in her anyway? Aren’t her parents blood-purists? I don’t think they’d approve of a muggleborn, no offense. And she is called the slytherin princess for a reason,”

“Yeah but she’s not like that,” Felix is quick to defend you, not that he really thought Chan believed in those kinds of rumors - he was just curious about his crush.

“How do you know?” “Just- okay in third year, I remember everyone telling me to beware of the ‘slytherin princess’” he makes quotations with his fingers. “That she was cold and mean and definitely would not be nice to a muggleborn like me. But then we got partnered together during potions and she was really nice? And funny? I just thought you know, that she couldn’t be that bad. Plus! Seungmin and Hyunjin are both half-bloods, and they’re like her best friends. When we talk, just the two of us, she’s kinda shy to be honest. It’s cute and all but, when I see her like that,” Felix points to you, who is laughing hard at a joke Seungmin had said, both you and Hyunjin holding onto each other as you wheeze. The librarian shushes you loudly and gives the three of you yet another warning, only one away from getting kicked out. “When she’s alone with her friends she blossoms into this really bubbly and bright personality and I just - I want to be able to bring out that side of her when she’s with me. I wanna be able to get to know her more…you know…maybe ask her on a date,” He flushes at that and Chan lets out a low whistle that gets his own little hush from the librarian.

“Yeah, you are down atrocious my man. I think it’s time to put on your big boy pants. You should ask her out, after the hufflepuff vs slytherin game. After we win you can ask if she wants to go celebrate,”

“Oh..that might be a good idea. She always comes to the games for Seungmin. But wait, what if we lose?”

(Felix will later find out that you had only ever attended the Hufflepuff vs Slytherin games just so you could watch him, something Seungmin always complained and pouted about. “I’M your best friend! You should be watching for me!! Not that stupid pretty Hufflepuff,” “So you admit he’s pretty?”

“I fucking hate you,” ) “Then you ask her if she’ll take you on a date so you can get over this horrific loss we have faced,”

“That…makes me sound like a loser,” Chan just shrugs.

“Listen, if it gets you a date who cares,”

“Ok, yeah. You’re right. First, we’re gonna stomp Slytherin into the ground. And then- I’m gonna ask her out,”

Felix did not in fact put on his big boy pants on. While they had in fact won the game, he had frozen when you hopped over to him, a pretty smile on your face as you congratulated him on the win. His mind blanked, head empty as he just stared at how pretty you looked and how he wished he could give you his Hufflepuff scarf for you to wear. He wanted you to cheer for him during his quidditch games. He thinks you’d look breathtaking in yellow.

But instead he said a quick ‘thanks!’ before running away, face completely red and leaving you behind with a small disappointed look on your face.

By seventh year, you were no closer to being over your infatuation with the pretty freckled Hufflepuff. Even though you had dated other people here and there, no one could compare to the way your heart reacted whenever you talked to Felix briefly in the halls.

Still, you had slightly given up hope that the boy would reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, he had shown no signs of being into you - despite what Seungmin and Hyunjin had told you. You were still scared of rejection, that he wouldn’t be interested in a Slytherin like yourself, much less one still dubbed the princess of snakes.

Yet Felix continued to treat you the same as always, greeting you in the hallways with that sweet smile of his and it never failed to put butterflies in your stomach.

So when you’re paired up for a project in potions again, you can’t help the excitement that builds in your chest. It’s a more extensive project, requiring you to brew a particularly complex potion, needing to do research in the restricted section as well as write an essay.

“Hey!” Felix greets you with that devastating smile and you pretend you’re not melting on the inside. His voice had gotten so deep and that blasted australian accent was constantly trying to make your knees buckle when you heard it. You can see Seungmin in your peripheral vision, pretending to gag over how pathetic you look face to face with your crush. Subtly you flip him off and you can hear his infectious laugh as he walks out of the classroom, probably off to find Hyunjin.

“Hi Felix,”

“So, when are you free to work on the project?” “Honestly whenever you’re free, I know practice must keep you busy captain,” At the title his cheeks flush involuntarily, scratching his cheek shyly. Oh what you wouldn’t give to kiss his beautiful freckled cheeks.

“Yeah well, Seungmin has been keeping us on our toes. He’s always been good at strategy and as captain he’s really proved himself. But besides practice I'm pretty free too. We have practice on Wednesdays and Fridays. So we could do the project this weekend? If you want of course, we could pick another day if you want,”

“Nope, this weekend sounds perfect,”

“Great, wanna meet at the library at one?”

You nod and he gives you a small smile before bidding you goodbye. And that’s how you end up with a study date with one Lee Felix. (Neither of you had said the word date but you could dream and live in your delusions for a while. At least before Seungmin pulls you back down from the clouds.)

Saturday comes much faster than you expect and you take almost half the morning preparing yourself - perhaps taking a little extra time on your makeup and hair. Of course you make sure not to go too overboard, just accentuating your features a little more, wanting to impress the way too pretty Hufflepuff.

Even though you show up to the library ten minutes early, you’re surprised to find Felix already there with a book open and taking notes. When he looks up to see you his expression brightens up significantly, waving you over quickly. He’s rendered you speechless with a simple look and you can feel those annoying butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Sorry did I keep you waiting? I thought I was early,” You say as you take a seat next to him, pulling out your own notes and potion textbook.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I uh- got here early to get us a spot next to the restricted section,” Your head nods in understanding as you bite back a laugh, the library practically empty due to it being a Saturday.

After some brief small talk, the two of you get into researching the potion, taking extensive notes on how to properly brew the concoction without causing your cauldron to explode. It was a tricky potion, requiring absolute perfection in order to work.

Somehow during your silent period of individual research, Felix had managed to scoot as close to you as possible, thighs pressed together and you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You can smell the hint of his floral cologne and the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck is overwhelming.

The two of you stay like that for a while before you close your textbook, stretching out your arms and flexing your hands from writing too much.

“Shall we check out the restricted section? I think i’ve read all that I can in our textbook,”

“Yeah, same! This potion is gonna be a pain in the ass,”

“Tell me about it. I’m not exactly looking forward to actually brewing it,”

“Can’t be that bad, I’ll get to do it with you,” And there it is, those damn butterflies making another appearance. You flush before clearing your throat, moving towards the restricted section, having already gotten permission from your teacher and the librarian. Felix can’t help but find the blush on your cheeks beautiful.

The two of you moved to start to browse the new section, looking for specifics on the ingredients needed for the more intense potion that you would have to brew. Your eyes skim through the shelves, noting some of the more interesting books that you might have to take a closer look at later, specifically a fun book on jinxes that you could probably use against Seungmin who was always trying to create new spells to tease you with. And on the rare occasion the two of you would team up to bully Hyunjin instead, especially when he was bragging about acing a test he didn’t even bother studying for. It would have to wait for now as you spotted an old potioneering book that looked promising on the top shelf. Reaching for it, you cursed at how short you were - even standing on your tiptoes didn’t help as you extended your fingers as much as you could.

Suddenly you can feel a firm chest pressed to your back and a hand resting on your hip, another hand coming to grab the book you were trying to get. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the close proximity of Felix, trying not to think about how his body feels as its pressed flush against your back or the grip on your hips as he steadies you. Slowly you turn around in his grasp, blinking up at him as he practically has you up against the bookcase, caging you in. Felix is also looking at you, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and the potion book in his hand. It feels like you’ve been standing there forever, both of you just getting lost in each other's eyes and you wonder how many constellations you could draw against his freckles. The way you want to count just how many he has or if he had more in other places as well. Your eyes widen when the hand that was resting on your hip is suddenly moving up to cup your cheek and you wonder if he can see the way you flush under the dim lighting of the library.

“Can I kiss you?” The deep timbre of his voice never fails to send shivers down your spine or heat into your stomach. You nod even though you really wanna say ‘hell yes’, you manage to hold back and not embarrass yourself, especially now when he’s asked something you’ve wanted to do since third year.

His lips feel plush against your own, and you vaguely wonder if this was real. If Lee Felix was really here, kissing you sweet and softly like you were the most precious and delicate object in his hands. It’s a short simple kiss and you almost go to chase his lips when he pulls back, but you don’t have to worry as he doesn’t keep you waiting too long. He drops the book to be forgotten, as he brings his other hand to fully frame your face and kisses you square on the mouth. Your head tilts as he deepens the kiss, lips molding perfectly together.

His tongue is swiping along the seam of your lips, asking for permission which you happily grant, tiers parting for him so he can lick at your own wet muscle. You can’t help the blissful sigh that falls from your lips and Felix all but eagerly swallows the noise, his pink tongue exploring every inch of you that he can. He has you fully pressed against the bookshelf now, your bodies slotted together, as if two puzzle pieces had been connected and you can start to feel something hard being pressed against your hips.

You can barely even focus on that with how dizzy the kiss is making you feel (though it’s possible it’s the lack of air as you’ve basically forgotten how to breathe). Teasingly you nip at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and he all but lets out a deep groan that makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. Eventually you both part for air, the two of you practically panting, lips slick with each other. You’re licking at your swollen lips, still able to taste him on your tongue as a thought pops into your head. You move to place your hands on Felix’s hips, maneuvering him so you’re the one who has him pressed against the bookshelf. He tilts his head and looks at you inquisitively, and you can’t help but coo at how cute he looks, especially with slightly reddened cheeks and completely kiss bitten lips.

It’s only when you move down to your knees does he understand what you’re doing, him scrambling to try to pull you back up but you don’t budge.

“A-ah! W-wait. What are you do-” He falters as he watches you glance up at him through your lashes, sweet innocent eyes looking up at him. Just the sight of you like this, looking so pretty on your knees for him makes his dick twitch in his pants, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

You place your hands on his thighs, running them up until your fingers are playing with the zipper of his trousers and he watches as your tongue darts out to dampen your already slick lips. “Is this ok?” You question simply, watching as Felix’s resolve crumbles, nodding his head.

With permission you’re quick to undo his pants, only pulling them down to expose his already hard cock. His dick is somehow pretty, yet it doesn’t surprise you - everything about the boy was just so pretty. You lean in to press small teasing kisses to his length, keeping eye contact with the Hufflepuff. Felix doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, so entranced by you. As much as you’d love to tease him, to build him up until he was begging for you - the two of you weren’t exactly in a private space, so you’d have to do it another time (god you hoped there would be another time). You part your lips to take the head into your mouth and it has Felix gasping already, his head falling back against the bookcase and his hands finding purchase in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck softly, his natural musky scent was mixing with the floral cologne he had put on and it was all so heady, making you slightly lightheaded.

He’s completely lost in the way your mouth feels against his hard length, warm and wet, and he’s scared to finish too fast like some virgin (even though that’s exactly what he was). Yet he can’t stop you, blunt nails grasping at your silky locks as you blow him, eliciting a moan from you that vibrates against his cock. His bottom lip is between his teeth in an attempt to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping.

Except when you’ve got his whole cock down your throat, choking on it slightly has a deep moan slipping from his lips. He’s looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and hazy with lust, the sight of you with your mouth absolutely stuffed with his cock has him twitching in your mouth. You can taste his salty precum in the back of your throat, desperate to see what his release will taste like.

“Ah…fuck. Princess you look so pretty like this…’m gonna cum,” He grunts softly and he can’t help the small buck of his hips into your mouth.

You definitely weren’t expecting the nickname, but you found yourself liking it MUCH more when it was coming from Felix. You open your mouth with your tongue lolling out when he tells you he’s close, blinking up at him and he gets the message. He releases your hair to bring his hand to his cock, stroking it once, twice - before he’s coming thick ropes into your mouth. You patiently wait for him to finish before you’re swallowing his load and you definitely don’t miss the way he groans just from watching you do that. A giggle falls from your lips as you come to stand up and he’s quick to kiss you again, moaning from tasting himself against your swollen tiers.

He’s tucking himself back into his pants but not bothering to redo his pants before he’s once again moving you so he can press you against the bookshelf. It’s your turn to tilt your head in questioning as he moves to kneel down, hands running up your upper thighs until they’re disappearing under your skirt. He loops his fingers into your panties as he looks up at you.

“Can I?” He asks and his eyes are still dark with arousal, completely gone at this point. You nod far too eagerly and he chuckles deeply at how excited you look, slowly dragging your (damp) underwear down, having you step out of them. He slips them into his back pocket with a smirk.

“You’re not getting these back,”

Your mouth is wide with his bold words, wondering where the shy Felix has gone. You don’t really have much time to think more about it before he’s diving under your skirt and attaching his mouth to your wet cunt, a hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves your lips involuntarily. He laps at your core, moaning against you at your taste and the vibrations only aid in your pleasure. You can’t even see him with your skirt completely covering him but you can’t find it in you to even care, the way his tongue is flicking at your clit has you whimpering. His hands are gripping at your hips tightly and you hope that he leaves a mark, a memory of this moment you shared with him.

He has you all but clenching around nothing as his lips suck on your sensitive bud and your back is arching off the bookshelf and your head is thrown back. Soft moans spill from your lips and the sounds go straight to his dick, feeling himself hardening again in his pants. It doesn’t matter though as his focus is on you and he so badly wants you to cum against his tongue. Felix easily slips two fingers into your heat with how slick you are and you let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He’s a little clumsy with them but you’re too far gone to really care, feeling your thighs start to shake and that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach.

“Lix- Lixie. I’m close,” You manage to mumble out, not knowing how much longer you are gonna last, especially with how his skillful tongue continues to work you to your high. With your words he’s once again latching onto your clit with his lips, sucking eagerly and his fingers pushing into you faster. He hums against your core and you’re gone, your rather loud moan muffled by your hand as you’re coming against his face. Felix doesn’t stop lapping at your pussy until you have to push him away, feeling sensitivity starting to build.

When he comes back up he has to hold you up, your legs shaking slightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. He’s quick to have his lips on yours again and you can taste yourself against his tongue. He can tell he’s going to quickly become absolutely addicted to kissing you, your lips so soft against his own. Felix is pressing against you and you can feel that he’s hard again, so you reluctantly pull away to call out to him.

“Felix,” You start, suddenly feeling shy even though you literally just had his dick in your mouth.

“Yes love?” It really feels like he’s trying to kill you with these nicknames but you push through, letting your hips rock against his and he’s biting at his lip hard to stop himself from moaning.

“I want you. So bad. . .need you inside me,”

He seems a little hesitant but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches just at the thought of being buried inside you. How warm and tight you’d feel against his length.

“Are- Are you sure?” You nod. You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.

“Yes. I-If it’s okay with you,” Still you stress this point, not wanting to pressure him but you’d be lying if you weren’t still absolutely soaked for the boy in front of you.

“How can I say no to you?” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before slowly turning you around to have you bent forward slightly. You grab onto the bookshelf to ground yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you feel him grinding his clothed cock against your core. You’re about to open your mouth to beg him to stop teasing you but then you feel his tip pressing against your entrance and all thoughts are flying out of your head. Felix is gripping you tightly by the waist and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly he pushes in. You can feel every single inch until he’s completely sheathed in your warmth and the groan he lets out fills your belly with straight heat.

“F-fuck. So good, you feel so good princess,” He groans, his breath heavy as he shakily pulls out just enough so he can easily slide back in, setting a slightly uneven pace but it feels so good that you don’t even care. All you can think about is Felix, the way his hands feel against your skin, how sweet he sounds as he murmurs praises against your ear, the way his cock fills you so nicely - your head is so blissfully empty besides the Hufflepuff and you love it. He angles himself upwards, finding your sweet spot so easily and you clench around him the moment he hits it.

His hips rock languidly into you as he flips your skirt up so he can see the way his cock disappears into your soaked cunt. Felix is so entranced at the way your arousal clings to his length, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs and it makes it so much easier to thrust into you. He knows he’s not gonna last very long so he grabs you to pull you flush against his chest, holding you to him as a hand wraps to your front, two fingers rubbing at your clit.

“Lix! Oh- Oh…’m close,” You mumble out, gasping as he holds you against his body, your hips trying to meet his thrusts.

“Yeah? Gonna cum princess? Need you to cum all over my cock. Can you do that love?” He hums into your ear and his voice has you absolutely gone, Felix purposely making it just a little bit deeper. The way his cock is pressing against your gummy g-spot has you seeing stars.

It doesn’t take long until you’re shuddering and coming, your walls spasming around Felix which has him reaching his own orgasm - spilling into you with his warm seed. Both of you are panting hard with you holding onto the bookshelf as if it was your last lifeline, practically the only thing keeping you up with how shaky your knees are.

When he pulls out you whine a little, feeling his cum leaking down your thighs. He watches for a second, seeing his own release dripping from your pussy has a surge of pride filling his chest. After a second he pulls out his wand, muttering a quick spell that cleans you up, thankful that charms had been his best class. You need a bit longer to collect yourself, your head slightly fuzzy from two orgasms.

Felix is busy looking you over, making sure your uniform is neat and smoothing your hair down. It’s all sweet and lowkey domestic, making your heart swell at the Hufflepuff in front of you. He smiles that smile you love and it baffles you how this boy could go from fucking you in the restricted section of the library to this innocent looking sunshine.

He’s coming to cup your face again, leaving a few kisses against your cheeks before kissing your lips.

“So like…I know this is backwards but uh- do you like? Maybe wanna go on a date sometime? And be my girlfriend?”

#stray kids #felix x reader #yongbok x reader #lee felix x reader #felix fluff #felix fic #felix imagines #felix reactions #felix scenarios #felix smut #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic

2K notes · View notes

comatosebunny09 · 1 year ago

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clumsy | astarion a.

genre(s): romance, erotica (kinda sorta) warnings: blood drinking, dry humping, steaminess, terms of endearment (petal, sweetling), language summary: you get hurt. astarion helps the best way he knows how. spoiler: it's with his mouth. now playing: shirt - sza notes: based off the results for this poll. hope you all enjoy! thank you so much for reading! ❤️❤️❤️

It’s an accident.

Happens when your attention is siphoned by Shadowheart bidding you a “goodnight” over the firelight as she moves to retire to her tent.

You look up from your sword, the whetstone warm and textured in your hand, grinding across your blade in your lap as you offer her a smile.

You’re usually so attentive. So careful. Yet, tonight, you grossly misjudged your ability to multitask.

Shclink!

The cut is inevitable. Tears a hiss from betwixt your lips, and the whetstone plops to the ground along with the weighted thump of your weapon. You’re on your feet, nursing the angry, red line marring your palm. It buds with crimson, a pretty contrast to your skin.

“Hells!” cries Shadowheart, scrambling to your aid. She gently peels your hand away from your chest. Winces at the blood lazily spurring from your cut. A clean slice. Her voice holds concern when she looks up at you. “You’ll live. Would you like me to take care of it?”

Your lips quirk despite the pained knit of your brows. You draw your hand back, cradling it in your other. “Nah. Wouldn’t want you to waste your magic on something so small.”

“You’re sure?”

The tearing of your shirt fills the stilled space between you. Shadowheart blinks as you haphazardly wrap the scrap around your wound, mustering a reassuring smile. “I got it. I’ve had worse. You get some rest.”

Shadowheart smiles something unconvinced. Squeezes your shoulder. “You’ll come find me if you can’t staunch the bleeding?”

You nod, wary of the exhaustion hanging below her eyes. She examines you a moment longer before stepping around you and away from the warmth of the fire.

You watch Shadowheart retreat behind the flap of her tent. Left with the idle crackle of the campfire. Your hand throbs, your blood coloring the fabric you dressed it with.

You suck your teeth. Bend to retrieve your sword, cautiously setting it on the log you once occupied. You feel the hot trickle of your blood coasting down your fingertips. Hear it drip against the soil, the sound amplified in the stillness swallowing you.

You’ll need more than a bit of cloth to manage this.

Your gaze flits to your pack. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating downing a potion to mend your hand. Then, you spot Gale’s tent. You could trouble him for some help. But, again, you see no need to waste your companion’s magic on something so contrite. You won't die, after all. It’s just blood.

Just…

Blood.

Your mind suddenly sparkles with an idea. A mischievous one, but an idea, nonetheless.

You wipe your hands on your breeches, starting towards a familiar setup. And somehow, devilry sets your face alight along with the coppery glow of the moon.

You find him silhouetted by the moonlight. Curls of white mulling over the deckled pages of a book, seated on a stool at the mouth of his tent.

You’re not trying to be discreet. Feet crunch soundly through the dry grass, alerting the vampire to your presence. Though, you’re sure he could hear you from eons away.

Astarion doesn’t look up as he acknowledges you, concentration nestled amongst his features whilst he turns a page. “Well, hello, sweetling. Fancy a cud—dle?”

The book, once cradled in his palm, clatters to the ground.

His expression is bemused as you slide onto his lap, your legs dangling on either side of his waist. Your arms sluggishly encircle his neck, and your chests brush together, coaxing an undignified sound from his throat.

Astarion intuitively wraps your hips in the circle of his arms to keep you both from toppling over. Angles his neck to stare up at you. His mouth hangs open with an unasked question.

Your voice is light. Twinged with something seductive. Manipulative. “Astarion,” you sing-song.

“Petal?”

“I need you,” you state plainly.

His brows quirk. Quads tense beneath you. “You—what?”

You bite back a laugh. It isn’t often you catch Astarion so off guard. Typically, he’s the one dismantling your resolve with his forwardness.

“As much as I enjoy beating around the bush with you,” Astarion’s nose twitches as he samples the air with it. Vermilion eyes land on you, shining with the slightest bit of apprehension. “You’re bleeding.”

“Keen observation.” You shift upon his lap, thrusting your bloody hand into his face until he goes cross-eyed. “Mind cleaning it up?” It’s more of a demand than it is a request. Damn your innocent face.

Astarion’s mouth twitches. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Hunger wades below the depths of his irises whilst he glances between you and the blood seeping so enticingly through your impromptu bandage.

“Not going to tell me what’s happened?”

You shake your head, that devilish smile still twisting up your lips. “No time. I’m dying, Astarion. Save me. Saaave meee.” You drape your hand over your forehead and lean back to turn up the drama.

He scoffs at your theatrics, feigning aloofness despite his muscles twitching beneath you. “Fine.” Mumbles about being the cleanup crew as he unravels the cloth from your palm. Attentive and meticulous.

You flinch at the sticky pull of the dressing. The sting is immediately replaced by curiosity surfing along the shoreline of desire as Astarion appraises your wound.

He holds your hand between his. Looks at you with parted lips, saliva puddling in his cheeks. He licks his canines. His gaze holds a question. Offers an out as it chases the viscous fluid dribbling down your wrist.

Is this truly alright?

You nod, your breath held in your sternum.

Astarion studies you a moment longer before he delicately shackles your wrist in his hand, and his mouth pans in. His lashes shutter, and he groans something hoarse and feral as he presses his lips to the veins of your wrist. You flinch as if scorched by burning coal. How something as simple as a kiss could feel so sinful is beyond you.

You haven’t much time to linger on it because his tongue is sweltering and moving. Languid and obscene as it laps at the trail of crimson marring your skin. Astarion exhales appreciatively, his gaze sifting through his hunger to capture yours. He peppers your wrist with kisses, lips glistening a pretty red amid the moonlight.

You throb. Through hooded eyes, you watch your lover, your mouth parting with shallow breaths. A shudder filters through your bones, his lustful stare purposeful and unyielding.

He licks a torrid stripe up to your palm with a flattened tongue. Your fingers twitch with the need to touch. Thighs quiver. His wet mouth closes around your laceration with a raspy sound. Fangs graze the worn lines of your hand, and he sucks, drawing a bitten-off groan from your throat.

He feasts like he kisses. Stripping down your barriers, leaving you lightheaded and wanton. Swaying, and Astarion snakes an arm around your waist to keep you tethered to him. And a devious hand finds the globe of your ass and squeezes.

Your unoccupied hand curls around the base of his skull. Fingers comb through soft curls, and you press yourself impossibly closer to the rigid pane of his body. Your stomach spumes with heat. Somehow, your lover gorging himself on you turns your innards to mush.

Astarion moans. He fucking moans amid his sticky suckling, and you feel the sound stir something between your legs. He feels it, too, and he springs to life beneath the thick layers of his clothing, twitching against you.

Mindlessly, you bear your pelvis down on his. Sluggish like the drag of a tide, and Astarion hums his praise. He feels good. So wonderful, and you can’t help how your body instinctively writhes against his.

A few more languid rolls of your hips, and Astarion breaks away from your hand all too soon, heaving a breath as if resurfacing from water, his lips crooked with a smirk.

His mouth shines with your blood. Your ichor. And he greedily licks it up, not leaving a single morsel behind. The notion siphons your breath, and you feel like the most exalted thing. Hardly notice your skin gradually mending itself thanks to your lover’s attentiveness.

Once the lustful haze somewhat abates, Astarion’s chest rumbles with a chuckle as he draws you ever closer, sealing your body to his. “Tell me, petal. Surely, you didn’t come all this way just to provide me a midnight snack.“

His mouth drags along the slope of your neck, sending little warning shocks throughout your lower extremities. His throat crackles with a groan at the quickening of your pulse, teeth pinpricking your flesh.

“Don’t know what you’re on about,” you husk, craning your head back to allow him more access. Still playing innocent as if you didn’t charm him into this wicked dance of bodies and tongues. “But whatever it is, I like where it’s going.”

Astarion chuckles, lips sealing around your throat and sucking.

Your responding gasp is wet and wanton.

And you find yourself thanking the Gods for your carelessness.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion imagine #astarion smut #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfic

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yurishots · 6 months ago

Text

CAFE AU ━ o. miya

GENRE ━ fluff + the smallest amount of angst

WC ━ 770

Ever since Osamu has aged and settled into his new life as a shop and home owner, it seems like couples have been miraculously popping up everywhere he looks. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit of loneliness seeing couples in booths sharing the food he made. Him being a romantic never helped either—the fantasy of seeing his s/o after a long day at Onigiri Miya plagued his mind constantly, as well as the domestic feeling of coming home knowing that someone will be there waiting for him.

The brunette began to put himself out there more, but not like his blonde counterpart. It was more subtle; making more conversation with his patrons and posting a little more on instagram. He became a fanatic for a short while—constantly stalking his notifications and dm requests even though he knew there would be nothing new. He contemplated giving up on the whole romance act, maybe it's a luxury only certain people can have.

Sighing for the fifth time this morning, Osamu shoves his phone into his back pocket. A past friend of his posted some pictures from his wedding. “Must be nice,” he mumbles under his breath. After washing his hands, he prepares to head to the back before hearing a delicate voice break the silence of his early morning shift.

“Hi, can I get a coffee?” Osamu froze as he heard the voice of this customer, he’s never heard anything like it. He looks up to see a smile adorning your face as you wait for him to confirm the order. The shop owner hopes he doesn’t look stupid as he quickly wipes his hands on his apron and clears his throat.

Osamu quirked up his brow in curiosity,”just a coffee?” The request was quite vague, there’s a million coffees in the world, he’s not a mind reader after all.

“What kind? we carry a bunch of flavors y’know!” He watched as an amused expression took over your face as you listened to him.

“Well, I actually don’t know since your menu up there is quite empty.” Osamu looked up at the digital menu screen above him to realize that it is indeed—blank. a wave of embarrassment washes over him as he grabs the remote off the counter behind him and presses the on button. The menu soon lit up with a bunch of options for you to continue your less detailed coffee order from earlier.

“I'm really sorry about that,” his face feels flushed from the embarrassment of the moment and because of the sound of your laughter entering his ears.

“It's fine, I'll take an espresso.” Osamu nodded as he entered your order into the system in front of him. “And your name?” You looked up quickly with a small ‘hm?’ and gave him your name, “Y/n L/n.” The tapping noise resumed as he typed in your name, smiling softly at the fact he knows you a little bit more. As you leave the counter to find a seat, the shop begins to fill up slowly as people come in for breakfast.

Usually Osamu calls out his customer’s names for them to grab their items, but he felt as if you deserved the delivery. He calms his nerves before walking over to your table by the window, “Here you go Y/n,” he says softly as he hands you your mug, telling you to be careful because it's hot. He slowly retreats back to his spot behind the counter to make the orders since his coworker has shown up to take them. Watching you out of the corner of his eye, he smiles seeing that you’re enjoying your drink as you gaze out the window. “Osamu!” His co worker snapped to get his attention, the amount of drinks he had to prepare had piled up. Sending her an apologetic look, he got back to work.

After making and sending off the last coffee, he looked over to where you were sitting to see an empty table with a lonely mug. Osamu sucked his teeth, he planned on asking you if you enjoyed it. As he walked over to the table to clean it, he noticed a slip of paper poking out from under the mug. He grabbed it and read its contents.

“Y/n L/n: XXX-XXX-XXXX. here’s my number, I’d like to talk to you some more. P.S: I saw you staring at me ;p.”

Smiling to himself, he pocketed the note and cleaned up the previously occupied table. Maybe this romance thing isn’t so hard after all.

#haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #osamu miya #hq timeskip #haikyuu fanfiction #osamu x reader #cafe au #can you tell he is my fav #osamu miya x reader #haikyuu x y/n #inarizaki x reader #osamu imagine #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu angst

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revelboo · 2 months ago

Note

may you PLEASE write more starscream x reader heheheheh.... ive been eating them up ever since i came across ur blog

I’m glad you like them! That last anon question made me think of something I’m going to have to deal with eventually, though. I mostly write paranormal romance and my intention was to use Tumblr like my note board in my office- that’s what these snippets are- scenes I want to get down so I remember them and can expand them into a coherent story later- I have an AO3 ready for when I start doing that, but because of what the story arc will eventually lead to, it’ll be 18+ I’ve been avoiding writing anything… er, let’s say “spicy” here since I really don’t know the demographic on Tumblr and I’m not interested in corrupting/ mentally scarring preteens or kids. Though, to be fair, I imagine putting a warning up over there is exactly as effective as adding one here.

Everything is Alright Pt 27

Starscream x Reader- trust

• How can you ease him with such a small thing? Just a touch, given freely. Because you might care. He needs to believe that, needs this to be real, not all just an act to save yourself and stay in his good graces. Needs someone who needs him. The truth, though? He doesn’t know and that doubt lingers in the back of his processor as he lays flat on his back, a servo tracing along your back as you sprawl on him alongside his canopy. He can feel every little shift of your small frame against his, your breathing and the beat of your heart. Those sensations now familiar as the pulse of his own spark.

• He’s calmer now, but quiet and that doesn’t sit well with you. It genuinely hurt him that you’d assumed the worst. And even if he hadn’t hurt anyone, you’re sure he still destroyed someone’s home. It’s a reminder that he doesn’t actually care about humans. For whatever reason, you’re the exception. The one left holding his leash while knowing you can’t actually hope to rein in his behavior. Can’t hope to control him. That servo traces the curve of your shoulder. Down the line of your spine. Every stroke seeming to calm that awful anger more. When he vents, the warm air washes over you, stirring your hair. And if you have his leash, he has yours. How can you ever try to really escape when you know he’ll go on a rampage? You’re not even sure that you want to anymore and when did that happen? With that realization comes the one that whispers that you can’t keep writing it off as Stockholm’s. You do care for him as stupid as it probably is.

• Rumbling softly when your head lifts, the slide of his servo pauses because you’re staring at him and he isn’t sure what to make of that look on your face. “What?” He growls, immediately wary. His wings try to shift even though his position restricts them when you carefully stand, a hand on his canopy for balance as you walk closer to his head and sit on his plating where his chassis and neck meet. Still staring at him and he has to tuck his chin to see you.

• That confusion edged with annoyance is almost cute as he frowns at you. Trying to figure out what you’re doing, just like you are. There’s so much you want to say. To ask in that moment, as fragile, new thoughts flutter through you. And it passes, because you can’t risk ruining what you have. It matters to you more than it should. So you just lay a palm on his face, lean down and press a soft kiss to his warm, metal chin. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper instead of those dangerous, soft things you can’t let loose.

• Watching you retreat back to your original spot on his chassis and then lay down on your side with your back to his canopy, he doesn’t move. Not until your breathing eventually evens out and he’s sure you’re not awake. Then slowly so he doesn’t disturb you, he touches his chin, warmth spreading through him at that little display of affection for him. Venting, he lets his head fall back to stare at the ceiling as something stirs in his spark, kindling in the quiet and he lays a hand over your little frame to keep you safe.

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#transformers #starscream x reader #idw starscream #transformers x reader

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cosmicpuzzle · 1 year ago

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Mercury in Houses

Mercury in 1st House

You are an intellectual person and have a lot of questions. You are curious and restless. You may have difficulty slowing down your mind. You are quick witted and mercurial (especially in signs Gemini, Virgo, Aries). You learn a lot from experiences than textbooks. You can be proud intellectually or don't appreciate others viewpoints.

Mercury in 2nd House

Your mind is often focused on financial matters and wealth. You often think about increasing your income. You have a good mind for selling and commerce and may succeed in business. You can micromanage your finances. You may be a good speaker too.

Mercury in 3rd House

You have an active mind, and you are good at writing and communication. You are a quick learner and may be employed in customer care, IT and education sector. You love short travels on cycles, bikes, trains and cars. You can have a lot of contacts.

Mercury in 4th House

You can be bit introverted, and your feelings are strong. You are interested in psychology and the past. You are interested in human behavior. You are nostalgic and remember things from the past. You can change residences often.

Mercury in 5th House

You are interested in love and romance. You are communicative and flirty in love. Your thoughts are on romance and fun often. You can be a creative person and do well with storytelling. You like to read romantic novels and may publish storybooks for children. You can be good at stockmarket.

Mercury in 6th House

You can be nervous and interested in health, diet and hygiene. You are a hard worker and do well in fields related to numbers, accounting and documents. You are good in solving day to day problems practically and efficiently.

Mercury in 7th House

You are attracted to people who are intelligent, witty and communicative and seek these attributes in a partner. Intellectual rapport with others is important to you. You need to feel that you can discuss any aspect of your relationship with your partner. You are suited to public relations work, as you enjoy meeting people and dealing with the public in general.

Mercury in 8th House

You have a deep interest in occult and metaphysics. You can be uncommunicative and reserved. You are good at research and investigation. You may be good at managing other's assets and in corporate finance.

Mercury in 9th House

You are interested in higher knowledge, philosophy and spiritual matters. You are motivated to broaden your horizons. You can travel abroad for education and may be good at learning foreign languages.

Mercury in 10th House

Your mind is focused on professional achievement. You are suited to business, academic work, writing, journalism, politics and the communication industries. You have organizational skills, leadership capabilities and the ability to make executive decisions. You enjoy variety in your profession and may hold down more than one job or seek a career that constantly tests your skills.

Mercury in 11th House

Spending time with your friends is important to you. You belong to common interest groups or societies. A natural networker, you are able to bring people together for a purpose or cause.

Mercury in 12th House

You need to create a space in your life where you can retreat into your own private thoughts. You are quite happy in your own company and tend to prefer to work alone or behind-the-scenes. You may forget things easily.

For Readings DM

#astrology observations #astrology #zodiac #zodiac signs #astro community #astro observations #vedic astrology #astro notes #vedic astro notes #astrology community #mercury in houses #mercury in signs #mercury in 5th house #mercury in 1st house #mercury in virgo #mercury in 12th house #mercury in scorpio #mercury in libra #mercury in retrograde

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decojellyfish · 8 months ago

Text

Hatchling.

Hi guys! Sorry it’s been a bit. I’ve been busy! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, and feel free to request anything!

——————

Dragon! Price x Baby Dragon! Reader x Werewolf! Soap (And a little bit of the whole hybrid crew :))

!!No Romance For Obvious Reasons!!

Angsty Fluff

Warnings: Death via gunshots

───♡───────────── Beginning

It all started when Price found an abandoned egg on a mission. It must’ve fallen out of the nest, or perhaps the mother must’ve left it behind to protect it from predators or hunters. But he took the egg, holding it protectively with one burly arm while the other held a gun to keep both him and the egg as he retreated to the helo.

His task force members were screaming for him to hurry up, their faces having a tinge of confusion at the sight of their captain with a giant splotchy egg that seemingly appeared out of the blue.

“I had to.”

Was all Price said as he got settled into his seat, the egg resting in his lap with both his clawed hands holding it in place.

With this sudden, out-of-the-blue, parental instinct that Price had when it came to this mysterious egg, he was put on indefinite leave. He spoke about how it was a dragon egg, and that he couldn’t leave it behind. Not without a parent.

Now, here Price was. The egg was in a makeshift incubator, under a heating lamp, and cradled into a pile of neatly folded blankets.

He was in his foldout chair, reading a book, right next to the incubator. He would glance at the egg from time to time, wondering if he heard the little dragon inside of it shift around. He would even just have one of his hands rest a top of the egg, thumb gently stroking at the shell. He could faintly feel a little heartbeat inside of it.

It made him smile.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price’s mates visited from time to time, checking up on the egg, checking on him as well. It was still strange how Price suddenly wanted to become a dad and with someone else’s abandoned baby too.

Gaz, being a harpy, would sometimes bond with Price over the fact that both of their kinds laid eggs. Gaz would share tips on what his parents did with him while he was a little bird, and Price would share stories of what he was like when he first hatched.

Soap was fascinated by the egg, his ears perking up whenever he watched it move slightly. He would bark at Price in excitement, “Price!! It moved! It’s gon’ae hatch!!” His tail violently wagged as he watched.

“Nope, little one’s got a few more weeks, Soap.” Price chuckled as he walked over to his comrade.

But for now, it was just Price and the egg in this moment. On this day, when it happened. You hatched.

It was a few days after your estimated hatch date, so Price was extra alert. He was walking out of his bedroom, he had woken up not even 5 minutes ago when he heard a tiny crack, and then a little rustle. Before he heard a faint, muffled, and quiet chirp.

He snapped wide awake and practically ran over to the incubator. A tiny crack had appeared and it was slowly growing. He didn’t want to interfere, you had to hatch on your own unless there were complications.

“C’mon, little one… c’mon, you can do it…” he whispered as he watched the egg wiggle and move about as you began your journey of entering the world.

The crack got bigger and bigger, branching off into other cracks all over the egg before your little fist finally punched out of the egg. Price nearly grinned from ear to ear at the sight, and waited for the rest to come.

Then the rest of your arm was pushed out, then your two feet kicked a good portion of the egg off of you. And that’s when you really began to wiggle and squirm about to get that damn egg off of you!

Price chuckled at the sight of your kicking legs and flailing tail as you tried to get the rest of the egg off of your upper body. Soon, you tore the eggshell away from yourself and you revealed yourself to the new world around you. Covered in membranes, blood, and other fluids that your egg held throughout your development. Now, Price took this moment to gaze at what a perfect little dragon you were.

You were scaly, like him, only your scales were a shade of coral red. Your tiny wings, still folded into your back, had little talons at the tips. Your horns were tiny, so tiny, barely budding out of your head from your slimy skin. You lay there, curled up and exhausted from the exercise you had to endure. Your eyes closed, and your tail tucked in around your body.

He stared at you for a bit, mesmerized. You were a beautiful baby, peaceful and comforted by the soft blankets and warmth of your heating lamp.

Price would reach for you, gently taking your little frame into his large, calloused hands. You squeaked at the sudden feeling of his sandpaper-like fingers. But as he pulled you to his chest, keeping you curled up and tucked away into his big arms, you adjusted yourself to the new source of warmth.

A little purr left your throat, your heartbeat syncing up to the one that held you. You accustomed yourself to the smell, the scent of protection, warmth, and safety. Your father.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It had been a few years now, you were still tiny but were now able to toddle around. Which meant you were able to follow your father around wherever he went in the house.

Price would be in the laundry room, unloading the dryer when he would feel a pair of tiny, chubby hands grasp at his tail followed by the sound of your sweet giggles. Or if he was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for that night, he would eventually feel your tiny form hugging his calf. He had grown accustomed to this, it meant you wanted to be held.

As you had grown, so did your wings, tail, and horns. Your horns were slightly curling back toward your head, kind of like a ram, and you had gotten into the habit of incessantly flapping your wings as you tried to fly. To no success.

But your father would always hype you up whenever he saw you doing it, cheering for you even if you weren’t able to lift yourself off the ground even a little bit.

“Maybe next time, sweetpea. I know you can do it.”

His mates loved visiting even more now after you’d hatched. Soap would playfully chase you through the halls of the house, letting you pet and hug his fluffy tail. Gaz would try and teach you to fly, desperately trying to get you to watch him as he flapped his wings. Only for you to get distracted with something else and immediately toddle off to get a closer look.

Even Ghost liked being around you. He would hold you and pretend that you were flying around, calling you a ‘little chopper’. He would even tolerate you being a curious little one, who would tug his mask off and put it on your head. Only for it to be way too big and completely hide your face.

With you being a little more grown than when you were a fresh hatchling, that meant that Price was able to return to service. He had a nanny already in place for you, and of course, you loved her. She was Price’s neighbor from across the street, she was a harpy. That also meant that you would still get your flying lessons in while he was away.

When he was testing the waters with you and the nanny, he was more worried about being away than you were. He would only return to service for a week or two, small missions, just to make sure he could come back home to you as fast as possible.

Every time he returned home, he would find you playing with the nanny or sleeping on the couch. Either way, when you saw him after he returned home, you would squeal loudly and run up to him and nonverbally beg for a hug. In which he would happily oblige, holding you tight and petting your little head.

After a few months, getting the routine down of being away for a bit and returning to your smiling face, knowing you were safe and sound, Price began to go on longer missions, mostly lasting for a month or two.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Gunshots rang out throughout the battlefield, with no intention of stopping. Price ducking for cover behind a cracked, decaying wall. Moss beginning to grow on it from the floor, tiny white flowers blossoming from it. He looked at it, a smile flashing upon his face as it reminded him of you. That smile was quickly wiped off of his face when he heard a few members of the enemy team approaching. He held his gun near his chest, ready to fire.

He eventually turned around the corner and began to fire at the men, his teeth grinding against each other in his closed mouth. He didn’t stop firing until they dropped to the ground, dead, despite the sudden throbbing pain in his chest and abdomen.

Once he knew they were dead, he was finally able to feel the pain in full force. He dropped to his knees and leaned up against the wall he was previously hiding behind. His hands clutched at the areas he felt the pain, only for him to pull his hands away and see the blood that coated his gloves.

He had been shot in the stomach and chest. Close to his heart, too.

He reached for his radio, desperately calling for any of his men or a medic, his other hand clutching at one of the bullet holes in his abdomen. He let go of his radio and used the other hand to put pressure on the hole in his chest. He tried to control his breathing, feeling like his entire body was on fire.

Soon rapid footsteps could be heard approaching, and a familiar werewolf entered Price’s line of sight.

“Price! Price! Holy shit, don’t die on me, you bastard!” Soap barked at him as he dropped down to his knees to try and help him.

He held him in his arms, barking out into the field for any kind of help.

Soap looked down at him, seeing Price’s eyes grow tired and weak, similar to his breath which was short. The dragon reached a shaky hand up and gripped at Soap’s arm.

“Y-You… take- care of my- gh…my little one…that’s an-… order…” he choked out, blood filling his lungs with every second.

“N-No, I can’t! They- they need you! I’m no dragon!” Soap tried to control the shake in his voice, but the burning lump in his throat made it near impossible.

“Soap… ‘m not gonna make it…Soap… y-you… and the boys… t-take care of them…o-…okay…?” Price coughed, a bit of blood spitting up from his mouth and onto his tactical vest.

Soap stared down at him, trying everything he could to blink back his tears before he slowly began to nod. “Yes, sir… I’ll make sure the wee one never forgets their papa either…” he said through sniffles.

Price would smile, weakly, before a long, breathy exhale left his throat and he slowly went limp.

“Price? Price?? John!?” Soap called out to the lifeless captain that rested in his arms. It was then that Ghost and Gaz were finally able to get to Price’s spot.

Ghost stared at Price’s body, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. Gaz could already feel the tears stinging at his eyes, witnessing the lifeless body of his mentor who was practically a father figure to him in a small sense. He covered his mouth before turning around and holding his head in his hands, muttering small curses under his breath.

Soap would let out a shaky sigh, reaching for his radio.

“Watcher 1, this is Bravo 7-1. Bravo 0-6 is KIA.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Soap never thought he would ever approach Price’s home with such dread. The feeling of horror and anxiety locked into the pit of his stomach as he went up the steps of the front door.

He held his fist up and knocked on the door. His ears would slightly twitch when he heard, on the other side of the door, the sound of tiny footsteps rapidly approaching the door. Followed by more urgent ones, along with the voice of your nanny laughing at your urgentness.

She would open the door, but soon noticed that Price wasn’t there. “Oh, hello. You're one of Price’s friends, right?” Soap would nod before being interrupted by a tiny dragon hopping up and down.

“Untle Johnny!! Untle Johnny!” You called out excitedly, your wings fluttering rapidly to fly up to him. But only lifting yourself up about a centimeter off the ground. He looked down at you and soon slapped a bit smile on his face.

“Agh, look a’ you! Already flyin’??” He chuckled and rubbed your head. Before he looked back up at the nanny, his smile slightly weakened as his voice softened. You didn’t need to hear that your father was dead. Your little ears didn’t deserve such ugly words.

Your nanny’s face turned to one of horror, sadness, and shock. You noticed and soon began to climb up on her to wipe at her eyes. She noticed and held you in her arms.

“Don cry!” You squeaked out, your little hand rubbing at her face. “Why you cry?” She looked at you, a solemn look on her face. Soap looking at you the same way. “Just… some people leave our lives too soon, sweetie.” Your nanny spoke softly, petting at your hair. “Why dey leave?” “‘Cuz it’s their turn to go to heaven.” Soap spoke up. “Tha’s where your daddy is. Heaven.”

Soap knew damn well that Price wouldn’t be in heaven with the atrocities he’s done throughout his military career. But no toddler needs to hear that their father is suddenly in hell for murdering people.

“Will daddy come back?” You asked, blinking your eyelids over your big, innocent eyes. Soap and the nanny glanced at each other, Soap being the one to take a small, sharp inhale.

“No, lil one… when daddy goes to heaven, daddy stays in heaven…” “Why?”

“Because he has to take care of his own mum up there, but that means he can’t stay here… so he sent me, and uncle Simon and uncle Kyle to keep you safe. But, you need to always remember this, lil one…” “What?”

“He loves you. Forever and ever.”

───♡───────────── End

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