#even though I’ve already wasted so much time

[cloveroctobers]

CUT TIES — Terry Richmond [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: There’s enough Terry to go around right? This is inspired by two things…OFC a song + taking another chance at writing something influenced by Love is Blind. Who saw that wasteful reunion?! Anyways that is what this is so get ready for angst.

WARNINGS: Reference to a intimate moment but a line at best?

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11:32pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I Need To Hear Your Voice…Can You Call Me?

Was the text message he sent you, which made you let out a long exhale.

11:43pm

TO: T. Richmond

I’m at work T [Deleted] Terry.

11:44pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I’m Aware. I’ll Feel Better When I Hear Your Voice…And I Know You’re Probably Saying That I’ve Got A lot Of Nerve To Say That To You Right Now…Yet This Will Always Be True, No Matter How Things Ended.

You were glad Terry can acknowledge that he did in fact have nerve requesting a call from you, when the both of you already had that final closure conversation weeks ago…however here he was back again, entering your life whenever he pleases.

Picking up your phone, after watching it ring for a while you debated about letting it go to voicemail honestly. You really didn’t need to hear many more angles about whatever situation Terry got fucked over in. Things seemed to be going well lately though, at least that’s what he tried to portray on social media…which was also new for him.

Always the type of man to be lowkey and out the way but after the exposure of being contestants on a certain love show, he stepped out just a little. It was never too much, Terry wasn’t the type of man to be in your face about his blessings but if things went south, then he had no problem stepping to you if common ground couldn’t be located.

“Hey,” He starts, his deep tone sounded as if he was ready to go to sleep, possibly lying down, whereas you were wired on your night shift, “Sorry for bothering you—

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but to let it slip through your lips, “Are you though?”

He hummed, “Nope, can’t say that I am, to be real with you.”

“Well, can’t ever say you failed at honesty.” You replied with a hint of sarcasm which made Terry chuckle humorlessly, “What’s up? What was so important that you needed to be on my hotline right now?”

It was Terry’s turn to roll his natural underlined eyes but he’s not trying to pick a fight or even think about you with someone else, “…the house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. The first person I wanted to talk to, to ease the loud silence…is you. I believe that’s how it’s always gon’ be.”

Not long after you called it quits, Terry closed on a house that he’s been eyeing long before he decided to go on the show. It was meant to be if they couldn’t get it sold. He of course talked to you about it once you were out of the pods, saying how some rooms needed Reno and asked your thoughts on if that could be your main home once married. Thankful that you already had your home that you owned at such a young age, You spoke about how much you already invested in your home and how you had no plans of selling just yet even if you two chose to get married.

Which isn’t something that he wanted you to do but questioned how this would work. He wasn’t down with sleeping in separate houses, although Terry knew it would take time to get everything right, the house he bought was livable and he wanted that with you.

Something that Terry always admired about you is, that you had your own mind and drive to do what you felt was best for you. He respected it, had to really learn how to when you said you two needed to put some distance between you after a final argument got too heated.

“…I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that.”

Terry listened to you sigh.

“I’m going to say something you won’t want to hear but I’m saying it anyway,” you start as you lightly flick your feathered pen back and forth at the desk, “You’re going to have to get comfortable being alone in that house, Terry. I know you’ve been used to being a lone wolf majority of the time…but you officially settled somewhere now and you’re building a life outside of the danger you once knew. Which I’m proud of by the way but you’re going to have to start finding comfort elsewhere or with yourself because I’m not going to provide that to you anymore.”

Terry was afraid that you were going to say this one day. Usually you both were good at having balance when your relationship was solid, giving each other the space needed and showing up when needed. Everything just took a turn once the chaos showed up again at Terry and his cousin, Mike’s business. This was the first time Terry ever lied to you and that came at multiple costs. It blew up in his face because leaving you in the dark and not communicating with his fiancée? led to being stalked and a home invasion that still haunted you.

Terry would always be sorry for that.

From bliss to passion to heat to closure to yearning. It was all stages of what this relationship was, for Terry it was the process of your love story whereas for you, it was part of your origin story.

“What if I say…I’m finding that’s not what I really want?” Terry speaks, “…That I don’t see much of a future without you in it? We talked through that hurdle, we wished each other the best after the reunion but what if that’s not enough for me? What if we’re each other’s best?“

This was another side you predicted would happen. One thing about you is, your mind was always turning just like the earth spinning on its axis. Which took another turn in your argument, speculating things that weren’t true once you found out that Terry lied about some new men targeting him. You predicted that once you both tried to move on and live without each other, the other would crack. It happened before, a month after the reunion when his aunt invited you to her forty-fifth birthday party. Your friends told you not to go and that night made you weak for Terry Richmond.

So weak you couldn’t feel your legs for days, Terry knew your body so well, had no problem burrying himself deep downstairs in his aunt’s basement, green hues trained only on you, while having your legs in the perfect V over his shoulders, and that man was a mountain.

A dangerous one.

Now it was your turn to fully stand on business and the year was coming to a close so you didn’t need Terry to find new ways in.

That was supposed to be understood but you both fumbled that at the party.

You had enough time to figure out what was best. Of course you experienced the what if’s yourself, been as loyal as they came but a structured life of constantly looking over your shoulder was just not it to you. To no longer feel safe with the man you thought you would grow old with. Now you had the world weighing in on what they’ve seen on their tv’s and online—you can handle challenges—you worked as a nurse on the oncology floor, however you have to be smart enough to realize when it was too much and that was enough to walk away.

“At a time we were,” you finally answered before reassuring, “Everything you’re feeling is valid. I hear you. I’ve been there and got through that. You will too.”

Terry’s silence was as potent on the phone as what he probably felt like the inside of his home was. The scratching of the branch that was too close to his bedroom window was similar to the clawing you were doing to his heart. He didn’t want to lose you for good, call him selfish but he didn’t want to just forget the unique connection you built.

Although he felt disrespected with the way you spoke (yelled) to (at) him during your breaking point, he was willing to come back and work through it but ultimately it felt like there was no trust there anymore. Terry did feel like you were looking for a way out because you two were “too” good together, unfortunately this was too big of a situation to come back from.

The stubborn one out of the two, Terry can sense that you already had your mind made up. Two tough conversations were had, one behind the scenes and another for streamers to dissect and formulate their own opinions on, should have been enough but Terry always kept his cards close. You were his most precious one, yet you were telling him how to store it away back into the deck for good.

“Is this really what you want? To fully walk away?”

A hint of annoyance hits you and could be felt as you start, “We went over this—

“So us going two rounds that day meant nothing?”

Sure it did.

“Terry that was goodbye, you had to have known that. The last hurrah. So let me make it clear this time without raising my voice because I know you hate that—and I’ve been working on it—I’m cutting ties.”

Half expecting the line to go dead, you still find yourself holding your breath as the quiet goes deadly silent. Until you hear shuffling on the other end, Terry’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, feeling a stress headache arrive right on both sides of his temples which then radiate to the back of his neck.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way…but I love you. I need you to know that.”

That was obvious but again, sometimes love isn’t enough.

“Don’t do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to find other angles to make this work. We tried after the big argument—that spark isn’t the same and would never be the same.”

Terry huffs, “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

Grasping at straws, was not necessarily in Terry’s nature. He also knew that statement was just not true. Both of you put your hearts on the line and this was something the both of you would have never taken so lightly.

“…don’t let your loneliness overshadow what can’t be managed. We been made our decision but this is me finally enforcing a boundary.” You inhale air through your teeth before continuing, “You are headstrong, very structured and lived a life that I know nothing about if it comes knocking at our door again. What happens if we brought kids into that? It’s not that I don’t believe you couldn’t keep us safe, it’s the fact that our lives would always be at risk even if it’s not something you intentionally brought to the table.”

“We take risks every time we step out the door. That’s what life is,” Terry tried to reason, “I tried to leave the life I lived prior behind me, which is why I like to keep to myself and not open up. You changed that. I know we’ve been over this countless of times…I just don’t know if I’m ready to completely cut the rope. To never have you around is…a scary thought.”

In a minute, it wouldn’t just be a thought.

“It’ll be as if before we met. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means but I’ve accepted the art of letting go. Ending access to each other for real this time, does not automatically mean we never loved each other or there isn’t any more love there. If we fell back into each other, it would be a repeat of all the pieces we wouldn’t want to live with. It’ll be hard to fake and deal with.”

“Deal with?” Terry echoed in a tone that oozed frustration, “I’d be willing to be a team.”

“Then why wasn’t that taken into consideration when those men shot up your business? Or me being stalked by one of those men at work? Then being followed home.” You felt your blood pressure rising at what you thought you forgave—but everything is a process, “Or when Summer and I went out to lunch, just to find out that she knew about the drive by before I did? Or how I almost got ran over on purpose in the parking garage at work? That didn’t feel like team work. I was in the dark when we needed to continue to be a piece of each other’s light from the damn sun rays. Being the last to know often, did not make me feel like a priority. I feel like that part of you, you wanted to shield me from all the time…so now I’m going to be a shield on my terms.”

Terry Richmond never wanted to be responsible for changing the trajectory of someone’s entire life in a negative way. Although you said the love shared wouldn’t just vanish, it did feel like you thought about it and had time to sit on it.

He could make this easy and give you what you wanted, should have and it was once something he actually agreed to. However people change their minds all the time and he never saw himself falling out of love with you.

It wasn’t about being trained, it was about being in love.

He clears his throat, “I had no intentions on making this conversation out to be difficult…I knew I’d get push back, it’s one of the things I love about you,” Terry says, “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, that your voice is actually what makes me feel safe and probably always will. And that I hope I’d get the chance to love you more in every lifetime. That was part of what I wrote to you in our vows by the way and I still stand by those words. If I had more time, those words would be actions. I’d make up for it, if you just let me.”

Him saying that over the phone, did make you feel a way. It made the back of your eyes burn but the shield was already in the works of being fully up. You didn’t need to hear this, you never doubted Terry’s love for you but it was over, you had the scissors slowly running along what kept you connected. Terry didn’t get the choice to go back on the agreement, yes people change their minds all the time but there was no time to compromise.

“There’s no use in crying over spilled milk, Terry.” Is all you can say, leaving each other to listen to each other’s breathing before the man is finally hit with the call ending.

He’s left holding on tightly to his phone, taking in the sound of autumn’s whipping air outside of his home. Tossing the phone behind him on the bed, Terry gets to his feet, determination shining his in his eyes while he begins to put his mind elsewhere opposed to holding onto you.

As you sat at the front desk, you snapped out of the dissociation that wanted to creep in, to place your phone on charge. Then grabbed onto some scissors returning back to the craft project you were working on to help decorate this level of the hospital for the holidays.

Snip!

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More autumn anthology prompts here.

[16sundayss]

.

[exopelagic]

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME BURROWS END WASNT FREE

[deus-ex-mona]

starting the year ✨wrong✨

[pochaccoups]

cw — nsfw minors dni, possessive reader, reader referred to as a woman, oral (f receiving), mention of breeding, creampie, i need other people to stop perceiving my man

Some days dating an idol is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

Other days you’re reminded that millions, maybe even tens of millions, of other people want him. You’re reminded by the Instagram comments, videos, Tweets, news articles that fawn over him, all of which garner thousands of views and likes from other people who agree—he’s the perfect man. Strong and buff and hot and kind and gorgeous.

They’re not dating him though. You are. And it’s not that you’re insecure—far from it, in fact, because of Seungcheol’s attentiveness—but sometimes when your feed is riddled with things like fancalls where your boyfriend has been trained to play along as a fan’s boyfriend, you just need a little reassurance.

One of the things you love about dating Seungcheol is that for you he’s built a space where you can be entirely honest with him about any anxieties you have. It means that when you do need his reassurance, you don’t hesitate in voicing it.

“Seungcheol, you’re mine right?”

“I hope so,” he quips, scrolling along on his laptop. Unfortunately for you, he’s too accustomed to your clinginess, which means that sometimes he fails to recognise what you want to hear from him.

You swat at his shoulder like an irritated cat. “Tell me you’re mine.”

He looks at you then and realises you’re being entirely serious.

“Why wouldn’t I be yours? Did I do something?” he asks, now shutting his laptop over. Whatever schedule he’d been emailed about gets shoved to the very back of his brain, replaced with only you.

“No, I just-”

“I can’t have a conversation with someone without bringing you up, and you think I’m not yours?” he says, reaching forward to wrap his hands around yours. His thumbs rub circles into your skin because you’ve told him once or twice how comforting you find it.

“I panic if I don’t have the Hello Kitty cherry keychain you got me when I go overseas, and you think I’m not yours?”

You giggle, growing suddenly shy at his words. His ability to woo you with his words even after two years is impressive, though it shouldn’t be a surprise when his suave and charming attitude was what pulled you to him in the first place.

You give a yelp as he tugs you into his lap without warning, presses you flush against his hard body with the strong hands you love so much.

“I’ve been looking at a ring for you, and you think I’m not yours?”

Your mouth parts with bewilderment and your heart skips a beat, though you barely have the time to comprehend the implications of his confession because he’s ghosting his lips against the curve of your neck.

“Have I not been good at showing it? Is that it?” he asks, grazing his teeth against your skin. You’re under his spell already, eyes rolling into your head as you grow breathless. His palms are hot, gliding under your t-shirt—his t-shirt—sending a shiver along your spine. “Or is my princess just clingy?”

You pull away from him just to pout in his face, but his glassy eyes are dark with desire and it means you don’t stand a chance. Not when his hands have moved to your thighs, inching their way between your legs, rubbing softly at your clothed crotch in a way that has you bracing against him immediately.

“Tell me, baby,” he urges, ghosting his lips against your neck, turning you into a puddle with such ease that it’s embarrassing.

“I want you to show me, Cheol,” you admit. Despite the quiver in your voice, you’re stern. “Show me you’re mine.”

He wastes no time tearing your shorts and panties down your legs, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you, and diving straight between your legs.

He eats you like a man starved, laps at your clit like it’s life or death, peers up at you with hearts in his eyes as you moan and cry so sweetly it makes his dick swell in no time.

Seungcheol has you all mapped out; knows you like the back of his hand. He knows exactly how you’ll whine when he sucks on your clit, how you’ll tug at his hair when he glides his tongue through your folds, how you’ll buck your hips when he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue because you need more.

“More, Cheol,” you cry, echoing his thoughts. So predictable.

He grins against your cunt, pulling back just to let a little glob of saliva drop on it before his mouth latches onto you again. Seungcheol eats you out with a determination that’s dangerous. He’s aware of the telltale signs of your impending orgasm; your moans growing higher and your body unable to stop shifting, and when he knows you’re close, he’ll stop at nothing to give you what you want. What you need.

His tongue grows ruthless, dragging over every inch of your pussy with vigour until you’re crying his name at the top of your lungs and your fingernails are digging into the roots of his hair. He finally lets up a little, just enough so as not to overstimulate you as you cum, and he’s lapping up every drop of your arousal like he hasn’t seen water in weeks.

“I’ll never get over how sweet you taste, fuck,” he utters between the sounds of him slurping at your cunt, and it’s so lewd that your entire body flashes hot.

“Need you in me, baby, please,” you whimper, watching your boyfriend pull away from you with glistening, swollen lips, with his chin and cheeks covered in you. He’s quick to shrug his pants and boxers down his legs, frenzied almost, like he’ll die if he’s not touching you.

Seungcheol leans over you to melt his lips against yours. He’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth in a way that should be overbearing, but there’s an underlying tenderness in the way he kisses you that feels more like he’s pouring his love into you.

“Yours,” he mumbles against your lips. You flinch when he glides his cock along your sensitive cunt, bumps your swollen clit because he can’t help but torture you just a little when you’re all splayed out for him so pretty. His tip catches your hole, making you keen when he still doesn’t slip inside.

“Seungcheol,” you whine, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him in closer. His face softens when he sees how badly you need it, when he remembers that he’s not making you work for anything, because he has one job and one job only right now—to show you he’s all yours.

In one fluid motion, he slides all the way in, buries himself in you to the absolute hilt like it’s his home, the stretch so good you practically sob. He wastes no time, fucking you with tenacity, letting go of any semblance of self-control the second he feels the warmth of your cunt wrapped around him.

“God, how could I be anyone else’s when this is the pussy I get?” he grunts, fingertips gripping at your hips, guiding you along his fat cock so deliciously that your eyes roll into the back of your head. “My fucking dream woman.”

“You fuck me so good, Cheollie,” you moan, your fingers finding their way to the back of his neck, tugging at the slightly grown out hair there. You pull him in close, your face next to his so your breaths can intertwine, and you whisper, “all mine?”

“All yours. Only yours,” he replies, his thrusts growing faster, harder, more erratic, more debauched from how your pussy grips him, sucks him in. “Let me fill you up, baby. I’ll give you everything.”

You whine at the thought, making him hiss when you clamp down around his cock, but he refuses to slow his pace. In fact, he only fucks you harder into the couch. “Please, yes.”

“Maybe I’ll put my kids in your belly, huh? Will that convince you?”

You nod your head frantically. “Want it, Cheol.”

He only replies with a moan of his own, taking your hands in his and pinning them to the couch. His cock throbs, your cunt dripping wet as you both near the edge of your release.

“Gonna cum for me?” he asks, strained, like he’s holding himself back.

You only nod again, and Seungcheol’s thumb finds your clit, drawing circles until finally he unwinds the knot inside your belly, and you cum with another cry of his name, your walls clenching around him so harshly that he’s spilling inside of you not a moment later.

The kiss he gives you after is so contrastingly soft that you nearly pass out, but it’s the most Choi Seungcheol characteristic you can think of—to fuck you like an animal and kiss you like a loving boyfriend after.

“I love you,” he says, his voice still husky with his orgasm, but there’s nothing but sincerity in his words.

“I love you more,” you reply, smiling like the angel you’re not.

“Not possible.”

“Oh? I don’t believe you, so I guess you’ll just have to show me again.”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes. He pretends to be unamused. He loves it though. He loves being yours.

[kingkatsuki]

— twist of fate

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’, and yet here you were drinking on a rooftop with the Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight.

I promised I’d post some more Bakugou cause it has been a little while and I do miss him! I actually wrote this for his birthday, but then I ended up posting the collab fic instead so I never got to write the smut part but I hope someone enjoys it anyway.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: breakups (not with Bakugou), mutual comfort, alcohol.

Word Count: 1.8k.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’.

I love you— what a big fucking lie.

You scoffed as you took a large gulp from the champagne bottle you were holding, grabbed from the bar at your now abandoned reception as you looked out at the view of Musutafu at night. The viewing point was somewhere you used to visit with your fiance, and to think it was the first place you’d decided to go when you found out he’d left you at the altar was borderline morbid. But considering your perfect life had now crumbled around you, you could forgive yourself for the psychological torment.

Kicking your heels off as your feet began to ache, letting them drop to the floor as you swung your legs over the ledge. Your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you sat on the grass, “Your pretty dress is ruined!” Not that you’d have any use for it now, your perfect life was pretty much gone.

“You know how dangerous it is drinkin’ so close to the edge?” You rolled your eyes in irritation at the sound, turning your head ready to shot some expletives in their direction before your words caught at the back of your throat.

You had to do a double take to make sure you were actually seeing what you were seeing, and that you weren’t this inhibriated already. The Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight stood a few feet away, arms crossed with his face set in a a heavy glare. But he didn’t appear to have his gauntlets with him, even though his belt was still full of grenades and his mask sat over his eyes. Instead he was covered in a thick black hoodie that was zipped to cover the garish orange X that splashed across his chest.

“Well it must be my lucky night, I’ve got a Pro-Hero here to save me.” Sarcasm oozed through your tone as you held your large bottle up in a mock cheers to the Number Two hero that had appeared over the hill.

Besides the randy teenagers that used to frequent the area to make out and get high, this side of Musutafu was usually pretty abandoned so you were disappointed to see you were no longer alone.

“I’m off the clock, sweetheart.” He sneered back, shaking his head, “And I shouldn’t have to waste my time saving stupid people like you.”

“So don’t save me then,” You shrugged, turning back to face the city as the sun slowly fell over the horizon.

You expected him to walk away and leave you there, probably on a patrol to catch the kids that used the area to get high. But what you didn’t expect is for him to take a seat in the dirty grass beside you.

“Thought you couldn’t waste your time.”

“How’s it gonna look if I see your face all over the papers tomorrow with my face under it sayin’ I should’a saved you?”

You turned to face him, noticing the dark rings of charcoal around his eyes filled in from where his mask sat. A three-day strubble cast a shadow across his jawline and you had to take another sip of champagne to pull your attention away.

“I didn’t think you cared what the media said about you, Dynamight.” You laughed, remembering a post you’d seen online earlier that month where he’d shoved a reporter to the ground at the scene of a crime and broke his camera.

“I don’t.” He scoffs, “But I ain’t a total fucking asshole.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” You laugh, gulping another mouthful of champagne as you look down at the city lights below, “You make it your business to go around breaking cameras?”

“Very fuckin’ funny.” Bakugou sneers, “That guy deserved it. Tryin’ to take pictures in the middle of a fight— he’s lucky I saved him or he’d have come out far worse than his shitty camera.”

“Wow, you’re a real hero, Dynamight.” You teased back.

“So you gonna explain why you’re up here in—”

“Oh, why am I wearing a wedding dress and drinking alone?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head. “My fiancé decided to stick his dick into my best friend.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened beneath this mask at the blunt statement before he shook his head, keeping his attention ahead to the bright lights in front of you.

“Shit.” He muttered beneath his breath.

You scoff, taking another swig of champagne, “So I guess you could say I’m celebrating.”

“That’s rough.” He reached up to scratch at his stubble before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“So why are you up here, Mr Number Two?” You smile, “Not got any babies to save from burning buildings? Or camera men to hit—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He scoffed, his nose scrunched in irritation before his face paled.

You thought perhaps he might get up and leave after your bold question but instead he sniffed, using the outside of his wrist to rub his nose before looking across at the city.

“A villain attacked a building just outside Musutafu tonight,” He muttered hoarsely, “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Shit— I’m so sorry,” You immediately stammered, feeling like such an asshole. Your problems were miniscule in proportion to this, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” He shakes his head, “I would’a never made it, but it still fuckin’ sucks, you know?”

“Yeah,” You murmured back. How could you even comfort someone for something like that? There weren’t enough words in the world that would convey the empathy you felt for him, and the victims.

“I just needed to get away for a bit.” He rasped.

“Me too,” You smiled, “I was sick of everyone looking at me with pity.”

Your family and bridesmaids had been suffocating after it happened, pulling you into their arms and drowning you in faux sympathy.

“Oh my god, I couldn’t imagine that ever happening to me.”

“It’s okay you’re such a strong person, you can do so much better.”

“If my husband ever did this I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I’m glad this came out now and not at my wedding.”

“Such a waste of a pretty dress.”

It was all the same bullshit as you listened to your friends slowly start to make it about themselves while your world crumbled down around you— So you left, thankful you hadn’t bothered to bring your phone as you were left to your own devices.

You offer the champagne bottle out to Bakugou as he stared down at it for a moment before taking it. Adjusting it in one large fist around the base of it before taking a large swig.

“If it means anything, it seems like he’s the fuckin’ idiot for cheating on you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he passed the bottle back, “Only a real piece of shit leaves his missus on her wedding day.”

His words still managed to have your heart fluttering. You weren’t naive, you knew he was only trying to be nice, especially when thick black lines of eyeliner and mascara smudged in tear stains down your cheeks. Your lipstick faded around your lips and stuck to the neck of your champagne bottle, and your hair was now a complete mess from where you’d ripped out your veil, and still he managed to have you smiling as you couldnt stop the grin that spread across your cheeks.

“How long were they fuckin’?” He asked, and you appreciated the bluntness of it.

“Six months,” You shook your head, “Apparently they got close planning the wedding.”

“Shit, that’s fucked up.” He shook his head, reaching back for the champagne bottle as you watched him take another drink. Certain your lipstick was pressed against his chapped lips now as you shared the same bottle.

“Yep,” You rolled the ‘p’, “And apparently he spent the night with her after the rehearsal too,” You sighed, “I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs.”

“Ain’t any of this that’s your fault,” He shook his head, taking another swig of champagne before handing the bottle back to you, “And thinkin’ like that will eat you up inside.”

“Could say the same thing to you, Dynamight.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t suck,” He shook his head, “And call me Bakugou, I ain’t workin’.”

“I’m glad to hear the Number Two hero doesn’t drink on the job— fuck.”

You shivered as a gust of wind swirled through the vantage point, reminding you of your outfit as you’d left the venue without a suitable coat. Hugging your arms around your body to try and stop your teeth from chattering as you drank more champagne, hoping the alcohol would warm your veins.

You heard a zip to the side of you and before you could object, Bakugou was shrugging his hoodie off to wrap it around your bare shoulders.

“Don’t worry about me, you’ll get cold—”

“Shaddup,” He cut you off, taking the champagne bottle back off you so that you could slip your hands through the arms, “Just take it, woman.”

You were immediately surrounded by warmth, his body heat still radiated from the fabric as you breathed in the scent of him. A mixture of ash, smoke and cologne as you pulled it tighter around your frame.

Bakugou pulled his hero mask up over his eyes to let it sit on his forehead, his messy hair now spiking upwards as he rubbed his eyes with the ball of his palm. The dark eyeliner around them smearing against his skin as he breathed a relaxed sigh, taking another drink as he turned his attention back to the view in front of him.

“You’re quite pretty actually,” You smiled at him, “The media always get you pulling the ugliest faces.”

“Hah?” He turned to you with a raised brow, his nose scrunched in irritation, “That’s still my fuckin’ face you know.

“Yeah, and I’m saying it’s really pretty.” You definitely blamed the alcohol flowing through your veins for giving you this level of confidence, certain the words would never have left your lips if you were sober.

“I ain’t ever been called pretty before.” He scoffed.

“I dunno why not— because it’s true.” You smiled.

“I ain’t the pretty one out of us two, sweetheart. Trust me.”

[pedroshotwifey]

Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭

Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅

Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤

Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader

Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting

W/C: 1.9k

Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.

What Matters

“Are you sure, baby?” 

Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure. 

“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily. 

You’re both lying in his bed, completely bare. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.

Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him. 

But what if he can’t?

You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes? 

It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be. 

But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now. 

“Joel?” 

His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore. 

“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right. 

You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes. 

He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself. 

“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes. 

His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year. 

It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself. 

“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you. 

“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.” 

You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you? 

Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts. 

“You feel so good,” you whine. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.

He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure. 

“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.

But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him. 

He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.

“I’m sorry, baby, I—” 

“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—” 

You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face. 

You love him. You said it. And he believes you. 

“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters. 

Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin. 

“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him. 

He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back. 

He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back. 

It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 

By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time. 

You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now. 

You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.

It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat. 

“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained. 

“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.

And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria. 

When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts. 

*****

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[obbystars]

Drown in the Deep

Synopsis: Drown your sorrows away into the deep dark ocean where it can’t be found. Feel its cold embrace and let the water in. Maybe then, you’ll see him again when you no longer feel anything.

CONTENT WARNING: The reader very much intends to die/get themself killed, detailing how they’d love to drown in the abyss.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Possibly OOC / Established relationship, can be interpreted as either married or not but they are living together / Angst (Hurt w/ eventual comfort) / Death + blood (not the reader despite the synopsis and content warning) / Not really a happy ending honestly

(This is VERY self-indulgent I love hate Sebastian. Also a bit of experimentation and playing around with his character. I’m not so good on romance stuff, so I hope what’s here is to your liking. Also rewrote some parts A LOT due to idea change/read up on lore and realized things didn’t add up here. I think I’ve got most of it covered though. Anyway I love how a few runs of playing Pressure for the first time, I died to A-60 HAHAAAAA kill me.)

Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune

A chance to be freed from your criminal record, and a reward worth to last for a very, very long time. As they always say, “High risk, high reward,” and the risks were certainly high. You could very much die. It was a chance anyone crazy enough would take.

But you didn’t sign up for this for the reward. You didn’t care about it in the slightest. To you, this would be an easy way out. An escape from this dreadful life fate had decided for you. So here you are, sitting in a submarine with three others in silence. There’s no telling on how deep you’re going, they never bothered to tell you how exactly far it was nor the possible dangers you’ll be facing. You’ll welcome anything if it means you won’t wake up again.

Still, you wondered why things went the way it did. Everything was fine until your partner was framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Nine murders, to be exact. You were there for the trial. You saw and heard everything. You kept your cool throughout all of it. You were hoping, praying to whatever god is out there to show them he was innocent. None of it mattered in the end.

After the trial, you went straight home, not even bothering to listen to your family who was also there. By the time you entered your shared home and locked the door behind you, you stood in silence for a while. You didn’t know what you were feeling at that very moment. You felt hot tears beginning to swell up, and your vision beginning to blur. Your legs eventually give out and you fell to your knees. You muffled your sobs with your hand as you curled up on the floor.

You couldn’t get yourself to calm down for a while. You don’t even know how long you were laying there once you feel your tears dry up and the sound of your heart beating rapidly leaves your ears. You don’t know what to do.

He was imprisoned and sentenced for execution for the nine murders you know he didn’t cause, but that didn’t matter. You weren’t there when it supposedly happened. You couldn’t prove anything. You were powerless to do anything.

Many early mornings were spent struggling to even leave the house, let alone the bed itself if you even managed to drag yourself to bed. You were too exhausted to even try for most. When you did manage to begin your day, you quickly became aware that everything is so much more irritating. People talking to you, certain noises you hear, how your food tastes… You just wanted to go back home and waste away.

As for majority of your nights, they have been spent just curled up in bed and crying until you eventually exhausted yourself. Gripping anything that resembled or had traces left of him and holding it close, hoping just the mere fleeting scent of him lulls you to sleep. Feeling the cold and empty space beside you and being reminded he’s gone, as if the reminders from your family weren’t already enough.

You know your family has been trying to contact you, sometimes even coming to the house, but you’ve ignored them every time. You don’t want to see them. You don’t want to talk, to hear, or to even think about them. You just wanted to be left alone.

A few years had gone by since then but you didn’t feel any better than before. You weren’t sure if you felt worse. Maybe it was because you felt numb nowadays.

Before you knew it, you soon find yourself behind bars. What you did, you don’t know. If you really did it, you didn’t care. You don’t know how long your sentence is, but you don’t care. You don’t know if whatever you did caused any deaths, but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You just wanted to drown in your despair, and this… “job offer” seemed promising. Retrieve a crystal deep inside a facility hidden in the deepest parts of the ocean.

To be so deep underwater to where the sun does not shine, to drift endlessly as water fills your lungs and it becomes so unbearably cold. To where you can’t feel anything anymore, not your body nor your emotions. To just feel the cold water and see nothing but darkness as the water pulls your body to wherever it so desires. Perhaps your remains could become the next meal for whatever lurks in the ocean’s abyss. Your body would never be found. You’d be gone without a trace.

So you signed up, knowing they don’t expect you to return. You don’t either. You don’t plan on getting that crystal, and you don’t plan on returning alive.

The shotgun shell directed at your neck on the diving gear given to you seemed promising as well.

If there is an afterlife, maybe you can see him again there. That sounded nice. You just wish you weren’t sent down with three other people. You never thought it’d be so hard to die in a place where risks of death were incredibly high. Perhaps it was because they wanted to use each other to get the reward for themselves, so they kept each other alive as long as possible. Covering each other’s eyes when the shark was outside the window, turning off another’s flashlight when an odd black figure appeared in the dark, saving each other from the creature inside the lockers… They weren’t going to let such easy bait be killed so easily, not this early.

Still, you strayed close behind as they often checked if you were still there. You kept your head low, until you heard another pair of footsteps from behind you.

Strange… The other three are already in front of you… And they’re just looking through drawers for anything useful.

The footsteps are getting louder and faster. You turned around just in time to see a strangely humanoid, armless figure running at you. It yelped the moment you locked eyes on it, immediately turning tail and running away.

“What the hell was that?!” One of the other expendables exclaimed.

Both of you walked back into the previous room to see where it possibly came from. There was a hole in the wall, shaped exactly like the creature they just saw.

“So they’re really in the walls, huh…” they then lightly punch your shoulder, “Hey, good job. I didn’t even hear it until it made that weird sound before it ran off,”

You say nothing.

“Come on, let’s keep going,”

You looked at them as they rejoined the others then back at the hole. You wished you didn’t turn around.

After a few more doors, the lights suddenly flickered. The one closest to you grabbed you and had you hide in a locker. Maybe they picked up on what you’ve been trying to do. You did willingly look into the eyes of the shark just outside the window, and they had to cover your eyes and drag you along with them. You also opened a locker that was already occupied by a strange creature coated in black and, what you assumed were, purple eyes. You hoped they’d leave you behind to be devoured by it, but you were pulled out and was patched up as best as they could do it. The damage wasn’t too severe, but still. There just had to be a spare medical kit in the room.

Maybe you weren’t being so discreet about it.

There were only three lockers in the room you were currently in and none in the room prior. They pressed on to the next door ahead. You were about to open your locker to step out into the path of the oncoming creature, but it zipped by you in an instant. It was much faster than what you’ve been dealing with.

You hear the others leave their locker followed with a quick flash of the flash beacon. You slowly step out of your locker and follow them into the next room to meet up with the other person. The one in front of you pulled out their flashlight, but ended up tripping over something. You stopped walking as they shine their light over what made them trip.

It was the one who ran ahead to find a spare locker. There was no blood or any signs of injury, but they weren’t moving and their eyes were still wide open. The other two tried to get them to respond, even shaking them, but they remained unresponsive. It was almost like they were just left an empty shell.

You restrain yourself from speaking as you would’ve called them an idiot for giving up a hiding spot in favor to make sure their bait stayed alive for a little longer, only to get killed in the process. Only 27 doors have been opened. Surely not all of you can survive much longer.

By the 35th door, one of them had used a code breacher to open a door without the keycard. Once the door slid open, a large creature with a smiling grey mask was seen on the other side of the door. Before they could react, it lunged towards them and instantly killed them on the spot before retracting their hand as it gets caught in the door while it was sliding shut. The blood splattered all over the floor and even reached you and the other expendable beside you.

By the 47th door, the lights flickered as you searched through a room off to the side. You can hear what you can describe as a distorted chorus faintly echoing down the hall, and soon a loud scream followed with multiple banging against a locker. The noise stopped as you walked to the door leading back to the path you’re supposed to take and you only see the aftermath. A fresh pool of blood and a destroyed locker. There was no body. The creature responsible is no where to be found.

You were alone now. Finally.

You kept your head low as you continued on, not bothering to search through the drawers for anything. Your body is starting to ache at this point. You opened the 50th door leading into a dimly lit corridor.

“Need to stock up?”

You looked up as you see the vent’s cover fall over. You turned around, then back towards the vent. You can see the next door ahead that requires a keycard, but you can’t find it from out here. You didn’t have a code breacher either as the others you were previously with had used them up.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” the strangely familiar voice beckons.

Had he not spoken twice, you would’ve thought you were hallucinating. Or maybe you are right now. A sort of “false hope,” so to speak. Not to mention how you can just barely recognize the voice. You’re having a hard time processing it after everything.

With no where else to turn, you walk to the vent and slowly crawl through. The room was dark, but lit up as you made it to the other side. You managed to get a good look at him, not exactly expecting some sort of fish-human hybrid.

“Ah, there you-” you see how his smile quickly disappears and his eyes widened once he sees you.

You only stare at him, tilting your head slightly to the side. He looked like he had just seen a ghost which wouldn’t be so far off considering what you had to witness for the past 49 doors, but why was he looking at you like that? He cautiously lowered himself down, close enough to your height but still far enough for some space.

You instinctively, though slightly, moved away as his hand moved closer to your face. That was until he finally spoke.

“[Name]..?”

You stepped back upon hearing your name leave his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him, “How do you…?”

Then it finally registered in your head. You’re not just hearing things, that voice was his.

Your eyes widened, now feeling his cold hand against your cheek, “S-Sebastian?“

“Yes…! Yes!” He nods, smiling widely, “It’s me!”

You couldn’t hold back your tears at all. The moment he confirmed it was really him was what finally broke down your walls. The last time you had cried this much was when he was to be executed. You had to hold onto his hand to keep yourself standing. He seemed to sense that as his third limb pulled you closer to him and held you in a tight embrace. You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed until his grip on you got a bit too tight.

“W-Wait, Sebastian-!” You cried, “Let go!”

He gasps, immediately pulling away. You winced as you gently rubbed your arm. You looked up at Sebastian again and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you’re still alive. I have so many questions. Can I-?”

Sebastian stops you there, “Hang on. Before I get to answering your questions, I have one tiny question for you,” he suddenly towers over you as he yells, “How the hell did you get here?! And why the hell did you sign up for this?! Didn’t they tell you the risks? That you could very much die?”

You jumped at his sudden change in tone and almost fell back. His tail had went to cover the opening of the vent in case you ultimately decided to make a run for it. What do you even tell him? That you signed up just to die? No other reason. How could you tell him that?

“I-I… Well, yes, they did. I just- It’s because…” you don’t know what to say.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands. You swear you heard a hiss in his voice, “Of all people, why did you have to end up here?”

“I signed up for this because…” you paused, “Specifically because I wanted to die. I knew what I was getting myself into, Sebastian. They didn’t tell me anything specific,”

“Of course those idiots didn’t…” He scoffed, “They don’t expect you or the others to return,”

“I never planned to. I couldn’t care less about this so called crystal they told me I was supposed to retrieve,” you looked away, “Honestly, I don’t even remember what I did to end up here… Maybe I did something that killed a few people, or maybe I was framed like you,”

Sebastian calmed down a little and had moved back as you spoke. He repositions himself so that his back was against the wall and his tail would nudge you towards him.

“You said you signed up with the intention to die here,” he then says, “Why?”

You sit beside him as his tail slightly curls around you, “You were sent for execution and confirmed to be dead. I just couldn’t live with the fact that I couldn’t see you,”

His looks at your bloodied clothes and noticed bandages through some of the holes in your uniform. He points to it, “Are those..?”

“It’s from this weird black tentacle creature in a locker. It’s nothing too serious, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He muttered a name you didn’t quite catch and he quickly moves on, “And the blood?”

You shake your head, “It’s not mine,”

He lets out a sigh of relief at that. It was finally your turn to ask questions.

“Sebastian, how did you survive?”

“Was picked up by Urbanshade before I was supposed executed. Guess they decided it’d be better if I was officially declared dead,”

“And you became this during that time?”

“You could say that. It’s, uh… It’s a long story,”

He doesn’t want to discuss it and you knew that was the case. So, you didn’t question it further. You have a good feeling you may have an idea now that you noticed a document on the table. Whatever was in there might have the answers to most of your questions, but you’re not sure if you even want to read it if he lets you. The mere thought of what could be mentioned in there makes you sick.

There’s still one other that you desperately want an answer for.

“We’re… not leaving this place, are we?” You questioned, not looking at him, “At least, I’m probably not thanks to this diving gear… One shotgun shell pointed directly at my neck, and if I even try to take it off, tamper with it, or leave this place,”

You stopped there. Both of you knew. Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment, “I can get both of us out of here. I just need more time,”

More time. How much more time before your body can no longer keep going? You want to believe him, you really do, but you really might actually die here.

How ironic. You came here because you wanted to die. You watched the others die before your very eyes without much of a reaction. All of a sudden, you feel your stomach drop.

You’re afraid to die.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve’s parents send him on a gap year after high school in hopes that it’ll get him ready to apply to colleges and become a proper adult. They let him choose any of their three vacation homes so he chooses their condo in Paris.

He’s expected to find a job and himself.

The bakery down the block from the condo is owned by two old men who don’t wanna open anymore because they like sleeping in and sipping on their coffee on their balcony. Steve is happy to take over.

Especially when he sees the guy who works at the wine store across the road.

He’s in by 8 every morning, waving to the people coming in and out of the bookshop next to him and the bike repair shop next to them. His smile is contagious, and Steve often finds himself completely distracted by it even if he’s helping customers.

His long hair is always down when he gets there, but by the time Steve sees him leave in the afternoon, it’s pulled up and he has a sweaty sheen across his skin.

Steve decides to visit on his day off, maybe grab a bottle of wine even though he hates every wine he’s ever had to sip on at family functions.

But the man isn’t there when he stops by, or at least not at the counter. An older man is there, wrapping a bottle in paper for a customer who seems like they visit often.

It’s a small store, no bigger than the bakery, so it’s not like the guy could be hiding somewhere.

“Looking for something?” The older man asks as he walks around the counter towards Steve with a smile.

“Oh. Um.”

“You’re lookin’ for Ed right?” The old man’s smile turned into a smirk. “Ed! Customer!”

The man Steve had been seeing every morning and afternoon was suddenly rushing from the back of the store, clipboard in hand, hair sticking to his neck and forehead.

“Hi! What can I help you with?”

Steve could think of quite a few things he could help him with, but it probably wasn’t appropriate to say in front of someone else in his place of work.

“Sorry. Do you need me to speak French?” The man, Ed, asked in flawless French.

“No,” Steve assured. “I work in the bakery across the street. Just wanted to come by and say hi.”

Ed’s brows furrowed as he turned to the older guy who was already back at the counter trying to look busy.

“Does David need a bottle for something? He usually has Wayne pick his pairings.”

Steve shook his head. “No, not that I know of. I’ve just…um. Well, this is actually weirder now that I’m here. So I think I’ll go. Sorry to waste your time!”

Steve turned to go, but a hand grabbed his arm, tugging him back.

“Are you always this awkward?” Ed asked. Steve looked up from his feet to see him smiling. “It’s kind of cute.”

“Steve.”

“Steve. How about you come taste our sample bottle for the day? Maybe it’ll take the edge off,” Eddie offered, gesturing towards a side table that had an open bottle of wine and small sample glasses. “You like rosé?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Then let’s find out.”

Turns out Steve didn’t mind rosé that much, but maybe that was the company. The flavor was a bit less bitter than he was used to, going down much smoother without leaving a burning sensation on his tongue.

And later, after Eddie had talked to him for nearly an hour about himself and the store and his uncle who took him in and worked for him, Steve leaned in and got a taste of the rosé on Eddie’s tongue.

Steve decided he liked wine more than he thought.

[maknaereality]

I shifted

I shifted to my nana dr for about six months (even though only six seconds have passed here, since I set the time so that one month in the dr equals one second in this reality). I'm still a little confused from coming back, but overall, I feel good.

This dr isn’t my main one but could become my main one. Before I share some details, I want to clarify that this DR doesn't follow the anime’s storyline. For example, that asshole Takumi will never meet Hachi. I'll try to keep it brief, as I don't like talking too much about my dr after all, it is real life .

I live about 15 minutes away from Hachi and Nana’s apartment, in a suburb of Tokyo. I work at a bakery and also do art. Living in Tokyo between 1998 and 1999 is a mix of nostalgia and surreal. It's hard to describe precisely. I’ve also learned to live without modern smartphones, using those old brick phones with buttons instead. This has taught me to live more in the moment, without the constant need to check social media or waste hours scrolling through TikTok, aimlessly losing time.

In this dr, I’m learning to be more independent. Thanks also to my experiences in my Kpop drs, I've learned to manage an apartment on my own here: I do the laundry, cook, manage my budget, pay bills, and work in the bakery. Oh, and I'm also studying to get my driver's license.

I’ve also started learning to play the guitar, especially thanks to Nana. Playing has always been a huge dream of mine, but I never had the chance to do it in this reality. Once, I even got emotional with joy while holding the guitar in my hands, because it’s something I’ve always loved doing.

My relationship with Hachi and Nana is really great.

Hachi is very close to me; she often texts to ask how I’m doing, how work is going, and invites me to hang out on weekends or go to the pub together. I love going out with her because she’s unashamed of anything or anyone, and with her, I never feel judged. She also has a great sense of style. Even though colorful clothes aren’t really my thing, she’s helped me find a style that suits me. I must admit, though, that she requires a lot of patience since she’s a bit naive.

As for Nana Osaki, I really love her a lot. She’s given me so much advice on some of my personal concerns, and she’s the kind of person who could listen to you for hours. She shows her affection through sarcastic jokes. We share the same taste in music. It took a little while for her to fully trust me and start confiding in me, but I understand her, and our bond has grown over time.

I’m still getting to know Shin and Nobu. Shin is very reserved, but I feel like we’ll become great friends. Nobu, on the other hand, has already opened up, and we’ve quickly become close.

Next time I shift, I’ll come back with a suitcase full of Vivienne Westwood clothes, necklaces, and rings!

[theonewiththefanfics]

Homecoming (one-shot)

Synopsys: When Y/N goes missing during a simple supply run, she comes back with world-shattering news for Astarion. News he never thought to hear, and now he has a decision to make, one that will shift his life on its axis once more.

Set after the main events of BG3

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, a bit of SMUT, but nothing explicit

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit, kidnapping

Word count: 8397

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 2(ish) - Love Conquers All (one-shot)

A home was not something to ever be taken for granted, that much they had learned during their adventures.

A home was a fire slowly crackling in the hearth, warmth expanding through the living room. A home was Astarion sitting on a loveseat, a book in his hands while he waited for his love to finish puttering around in the kitchen. A home was drying tea leaves and making preserves for the coming winter as she shooed him out, saying that his fussing would only hinder her process.

He’d huffed, puffed and whined, trying to make Y/N pull away from her plans just so they could curl up and read together, but she was adamant.

“I’ve already started.” She dropped an orange peel and pressed some lemon juice into the steaming pot. “It’ll be wasted produce if I just leave it now.”

“But it will take you hours!” Astarion whined like a child and even stomped his foot, making her snort.

“And it will take me twice as long if you don’t stop annoying me.” Y/N threw him a saccharine smile over her shoulder, batting her lashes at the pouting vampire. “Now, be a good boy, and quit pestering me. We’ll have all the time in the world, once I’m done.”

Astarion just groaned, going up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, the incisors he usually sank into her neck now nipping at her lobe. “I can be a very good boy if you only let me prove it.”

“My love, you will be getting absolutely no sex from me, if you don’t let me at least finish this batch.” A shiver rushed down her spine as he licked at her neck, so close to that sweet spot he always used as a place to bite and drink from. But she had to be strong. The jams wouldn’t make themselves. “Every additional minute you keep me from this will be an additional day of your dry spell.”

The vampire spawn jumped back from her as if he’d been scalded, scarlet eyes narrowing in on her. “You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t last an hour!”

Y/N turned around, crossing her arms as a devious smile bloomed on her lips, a brow raised in challenge. “Would you like to test those waters?���

Astarion stood, staring her down. His crimson gaze was blazing from underneath his lashes, but she didn’t budge. They’d played this game for close to three years as a couple now, and she’d learned very quickly – Astarion was very much so a cat. But especially – he was a cat that liked to knock things over while keeping direct eye contact with you, though the second you placed a palm underneath whatever it was he wanted for to fall, all his need for chaos disappeared. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

For twenty long seconds, Y/N and her pale elven lover didn’t break, hoping the other would crumble and be announced as the loser, but part of what he loved about her, was her stubbornness. It was because of that part of her personality, she’d stuck by him when his doubts had crept in, when his own mind called him worthless and not good enough for her, almost as if to spite those vicious words in his mind. She didn’t give up on the people she loved, and as luck would have it, Astarion owned her heart.

But Y/N also knew how to handle a cat like him, so just after a few more tense moments, his eye twitched, and he huffed in defeat.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “But if you are not done by sundown, I shall have no other option but to drag you away from the stove. Kicking and screaming preferred.”

Y/N simply shook her head, and went to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling the man into a deep, breathless kiss, but not before nipping at his bottom lip, dragging the piece of flesh between her teeth and making him let out a desperate moan. “I’ll even let you tie me up if you wish to do so.”

Astarion’s pupils almost swallowed the red irises in a matter of seconds, as he threw his head back in a groan. “My love, you’re absolutely killing me here.”

“Then I hope whatever punishment you deem fit for me, will be just oh, so sweet.” Y/N stepped back, untangling herself from him, but the mischievousness in her eyes didn’t lessen.

She could see how the words tortured him, how it took every single last piece of his fraying self-control, to not rip off her apron and the clothes underneath and just lay her down on the kitchen table, legs spread with his mouth licking into her until she orgasmed.

With eyes holding nothing but pure lust and hands clenching and unclenching, Astarion retreated. Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t hot and bothered and absolutely dripping between her thighs, and the thought of finishing those jams was the last thing on her mind, but she did have to do it. If only to keep him waiting longer, knowing whatever his beautiful brain was cooking up would leave her screaming and shaking for hours.

They’d been growing their own vegetables and fruits, Y/N tending to them during the nights to spend more time with Astarion as he fussed over his flower gardens, so it would simply be wasteful to leave their berries to rot. The year had been very generous and offered a variety of things to gather, so a while back, she’d decided to pickle some of the tomatoes and cucumbers, turn another batch of peppers and tomatillos into sauces while the sweeter things would be turned into syrups and jams.

Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it from the haze of lust, as the aroma of lemons and cranberries, raspberries and oranges wafted all around, encasing her in the scent. She was just about to add the sugar when the tin rattled with the sound of the last grains left.

Her brow furrowed as she opened the lid and looked inside. Sure, enough it was empty.

The woman huffed. She was absolutely positive she’d gotten the right amount during the last trip, but somewhere along the way it seemed a miscalculation had happened, and now she had to get more. Y/N would have asked Astarion, and had the sun dipped below the horizon, he would have jumped at the request, but alas his little vampiric predicament forbade him from walking during the day, the sun still high in the sky from what she could see through a tiny slit in the shutters.

Quickly, Y/N snuffed out the flame below the pot, untied her dirtied apron and grabbed a basket from the pantry, tying a pouch of coins to her side. She only needed sugar, but maybe she would grab some other necessities as well. They were low on Astarion’s favourite wine, one he claimed didn’t taste like vinegar at least.

“I’m off to the market really quick,” Y/N announced as she peeked into the living room, taking in Astarion as he flipped a page in a book. “Do you want anything?”

“No, my love.” He looked at her like a love-sick puppy. “Just your darling self back as quick as you can. I have picked up some… inspiration for your punishment if you will. Just as you suggested, of course.” He closed the book, showing the cover to her.

Heat crawled all over her body as she read the title, one of her smuttier romances she had started to read, and when she could do nothing but gulp and nod, his smile turned from a sweet one into a wicked-fanged thing. It was all she needed to know whatever awaited her once she was done would leave her unable to walk. Gods, she needed to finish this whole thing up as quickly as she could.

Y/N was out the doors like the wind, the usual stroll to the market cut from half an hour into a brisk fifteen-minute jog, the thoughts of the man waiting back home for her at the forefront of her mind.

The needed sugar, some coffee beans, a loaf of fresh bread, Astarion’s wine and some sour cream were all bought in quick succession, Y/N didn’t even try to haggle. Her eyes drifted across various stalls and merchants and she almost deemed it done when her gaze caught onto a rose seedling. It was a beautiful bloom with blood-red petals that whitened at the very tips. She smiled and went to buy it. Astarion would love the symbolism even if a bit too on the nose.

Once satisfied with everything, Y/N marched across the market and was back on the road to home. It was a humble little house they’d purchased with whatever had been left in their pockets after all was said and done with the tadpoles, but Astarion had bigger plans. This was only a temporary situation.

“I want a whole room full of books. Nothing but books from one end to the other and then some,” he’d confided in Y/N one night after both were panting and spent from multiple rounds of bringing the other to ecstasy.

“And a large ballroom,” he continued, and Y/N couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped her.

“A ballroom? And what will we do with that?”

“Why, have grand balls, of course!” He threw his hands up in the air as if her question was preposterous.

“Star…” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him from where she was lying on his naked chest. “You hate people. A ballroom full of them – it would be your literal nightmare.”

“I don’t hate people.”

“I don’t count.”

“Alright,” he conceded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Y/N placed her palm atop where his heart was and rested her chin on it, looking deep into his eyes. “I hate most people, simply dislike them, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a get-together, from time to time. Maybe… maybe see our friends. Catch up on how they’re doing. I absolutely despise to admit this and will say you are lying if you ever mention it to anyone, but I – I miss them… even Gale…”

A gentle smile lifted her lips as she brushed a wild curl out of his face and tucked it behind his pointy ear. “I think I’d really like that too.”

His eyes were so soft and full of love, that Y/N swore she could feel his heart beating once more in his chest, thudding against her palm in a confession of adoration.

She was almost out of the city by that point, already on the small, secluded road leading to their house which lay on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate right by the edges of the woods, so Astarion had easier access to game in between feeding on her when her attention was drawn back by someone calling out.

“Miss!” the voice, male she made out, yelled after her. “Miss, please wait!”

Instantly, her guard was up, but when a breathless man, looking to be in his late sixties appeared from behind a copse of trees, she somewhat relaxed. Y/N was still cautious, but if anything, she had a dagger holstered against her thigh. She was always prepared.

“Miss,” he gasped out, leaning his hands against his knees to catch his breath. “Miss, you are a quick one. I’ve been calling for you since by the rose stalls."

“Oh, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you!” Y/N said but didn’t move forward. “How can I help?”

He huffed, as if regaining her breath, before fishing out a piece of fabric from his pocket, and extending it towards her. “You dropped this by the flowers.”

When she took a closer look at what he was holding, it seemed to be some sort of a silk scarf. She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t own silk scarves and definitely hadn’t worn one on such a warm day. “You must have mixed me up with someone, as it’s not mine. Sorry, for you to have troubled yourself like this.”

“No.” The man furrowed his brow, taking a step closer. “I am fairly certain I saw you drop it. Such a fine piece… didn’t want you to lose it.”

Y/N took a step back, angling herself in a defensive position with the basket in front of her. She didn’t like the tone he was speaking in, nor the way his eyes seemed to be appraising her. “No,” she asserted. “It’s not mine.”

His back stiffened, eyes growing cold, the grip on the scarf tightening as he hummed. “Well… a pity then.”        

She took another step back, but he was already lunging at her.

Dropping the basket to the ground, she reached for the knife strapped at her thigh, but he was quick as a viper as she hadn’t even noticed when a rope appeared in his hands, lashing it at her. Years of having fought had kept her agile and aware, but years of domestic bliss with Astarion had dulled her senses a bit.

The rope caught and wrapped around her ankle, knocking her to the ground. Y/N’s teeth clattered and snapped, her tongue almost in between them, but as he rushed to pin her down, she twisted her leg around the rope and pulled, making the man lose his balance and stumble.

It was enough for her to swipe her leg underneath his, and send him sprawling. It was enough for her to untangle her legs and roll away as he snapped it at her head. Her clothes were dirty as was her face, but it didn’t matter. She’d cover herself in blood if needed.

It was almost animalistic how she pounced – teeth bared, a snarl ripping from her throat and hands forming claws as if she would gouge at his face with just his nails, but as her palm brushed her thigh, unclipping the holster for her dagger, Y/N didn’t see the man had crouched on his knee and swung the cord.

It knocked the air out of her, as it wrapped around her chest, and he pulled her down, hard. Her ribs were screaming as the tether tightened and tightened with every pull, but as she thought this would be it, something strange happened – instead of offering her the killing blow, he opened a palm, now covered in a leather glove, and blew the contents of it onto her face.

Y/N coughed and sputtered, but whatever it was, was fast-acting and her lungs, still incapable of proper breathing due to the rope couldn’t expel it. In just a few seconds, the bright day around her turned into darkness.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious for, but enough time had passed to dry out her throat. Or was that a side effect of whatever was blown into her face? In any case, as she slowly came to, Y/N noted there was a soft mattress under her body, which was an oddity for someone kidnapped. She could even tell the dagger was still by her thigh, the comforting weight of the blade pressed under her. Even weirder, if you asked her, to not disarm your victims.

Darkness still encompassed her, but the soft cloth against her cheeks told her she hadn’t permanently lost her vision, but with her sight obscured, she had to rely on her ears. That’s when voices invaded her senses.

There were three people somewhere further away, most likely in a different room if taken by how muffled the words were. She focused harder on what they were saying.

Two men and a female, Y/N differentiated, when the woman spoke.

“This is not what we agreed upon!” she hissed, and a grumbly-sounding man scoffed.

“You said to get her to you. I did. You never specified how.” It was the same man who’d knocked her out.

“We want her to help us!” A different male voice, this one softer, even kinder, rebutted. “I highly doubt kidnapping is a good incentive for that!”

“Look,” her assailant said. “I fulfilled my end of the deal. She is unhurt, maybe she'll sport a couple of bruises and a headache, but that is her own fault. She could have come willingly but didn’t. Other than that, though – she is completely fine. Now you do your part!”

As the trio argued between themselves, more angry whispers than shouting, Y/N started to shimmy her hands which had been bound, out of the restraints. She had a good inclination they needed her alive but had no want of staying as a prisoner.

Though her fighting skills seemed to have mellowed, which she was not happy about, even a couple of years without mortally dangerous adventures, hadn’t changed how quickly she could slip her wrists from their bindings.  Astarion might need to get more creative during their debauchery.

Y/N froze the second she heard a door open and shut, two pairs of footsteps moving closer and closer to where she was. Her breathing was shallow and almost imperceptible, as she tried to make it look like she was still unconscious.

She could sense two bodies enter the room and one move to stand where she faced, the other going to her back.

Y/N tensed. In just a few moments, whoever was behind her, would notice her undone binds. But she’d be ready.

“Darling, please be careful,” the woman said, a tremble in her voice.

Good. Let them be scared.

“Don’t worry,” the man replied. “I’ll just make sure she’s – what in the -”

But Y/N was already up, the blindfold off and ready to pounce. This time, she’d have the upper hand.

For a second, the light in the room blinded her, but her sight refocused fast enough to take in her captors’ faces.

The woman was beautiful, with high rosy cheekbones, and jade green eyes so vivid they looked like actual gemstones. Her hair was long and dark, down to her waist while grey strands seemed to have invaded the brown tresses in some places, but she was still ethereally gorgeous, her pointy ears covered in piercings.

Y/N snapped out of the shock quicker and using this to her advantage, she was behind her in a matter of a blink, her dagger pressed tight against her throat.

A gasp entered her ears, but she just pressed the blade harder, making her whimper.

“Please!” the man made her look at him, but instead of bracing for an attack, he had his hands up in surrender. “Please don’t hurt her! We just want to talk.”

“Funny way of having a conversation you’ve got there.” Y/N tightened her grip on the knife, surveying the man. Again, those same pointed ears, but his eyes were the most brilliant blue she’d ever seen and his face was marred with more age lines than the woman’s, yet he still was as gorgeous as she. “Typically, only my enemies would knock me out and tie me up before spilling their grand plans. But I will be kind and give you a choice – what would you like to be – friends or foes?”

“Friends! Friends! Please! We – we’re looking for our son!” the elven man pleaded. “And we – we heard a rumour that you might know him. Have even seen him.”

Y/N narrowed her Y/E/C eyes, piercing his with her gaze. “I’ve known and seen a lot of people. Usually, others just ask me about them, they don’t have someone kidnap me.”

“And we’re sorry, we’re so very sorry, but we had to make sure you came. It went too far and we apologise, but please…” He took in a deep breath, worried eyes flipping between his partner and her. “Our son – his name is Astarion. Astarion Ancunin. Have you – do you know of him?”

Hearing his name, knocked the breath out of her as if they’d snapped a rope around her chest again, making her stumble back. Her grip on the woman released, and she used the moment to leap over to her partner, using the bed as a buffer. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her half behind his back, but not before checking if Y/N’s dagger had pierced the skin.

Tears brimmed in the eleven woman’s green eyes as she looked at her, not even caring that just a moment before she was so close to having her blood dripping on the floor. “Please,” she whispered. “I – I know we didn’t go about it the right way, but please… is it true he’s alive?”

"I,” Y/N stammered, her gaze snapping back and forth between the two.

Astarion.

They were Astarion’s parents.

Even after all this time, they were searching for their missing son.

Y/N should have noticed the details – how the woman had a small mole on her cheek right where Astarion did, how the shape of the man’s eyes was the exact same as his son’s. Astarion even had the same high cheekbones as his mother while his sharp jaw was that of his father.

What had his eyes been like before? Green like his mother’s or the sky blue of his father's? What had he been like as a child? No doubt as mischievous and scheme-prone as he was now, but who had he gotten it from? So many different questions rattled through Y/N’s brain as she kept glancing back and forth, before shaking her head and pulling her out of the shocked stupor.

“You – you’re Ancunins?” She had to ask. Had to make sure she hadn’t overheard them or maybe hallucinating because of the powder she’d inhaled.

“Yes.” The woman nodded, brushing tears from under her eyes. “Our son has been missing for more than two hundred years, and we almost lost hope until… until we heard about you and your company a few years back. How one of the party members resembled our little Star so much.”

They hadn’t been inconspicuous, though they had tried, so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that tales of their adventures had gone far and wide, especially after saving Baldur’s Gate, killing Cazador and the absolute, and Gods know how many other evils along the way. But she never thought Astarion’s parents would have heard of it.

In fact, Astarion had barely even mentioned them over the years, and, for whatever reason, Y/N had concluded they must have passed, despite knowing elves lived extremely long lives. Had he maybe tried to find them on his own and couldn’t? Or had he forgotten about them?

Until Astarion and Y/N had become an official couple and she’d commissioned a portrait of him as a gift on an anniversary, he hadn’t even seen himself in two centuries. He’d forgotten what he looked like. It didn’t seem too crazy to assume, the memories of his parents’ names or their faces, might’ve slipped away as well, or even the love they had for him. Especially knowing how deeply Cazador had ruined that notion for him.

She needed to get home. She needed to see Astarion, and then she could figure out what to do.

“I need to go.” Y/N nodded to herself, muttering under her breath. “I need to think.”

“No, please!” the woman lunged, trying to grasp at her, but she had a knife pointed at her chest in an instant, making the elf shrivel back, but still, she pleaded. “Please help us. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate! If you can’t help, who will?”

“I promise I will do my best,” Y/N said. “But I need time… I – I need to figure all of this out.”

Her mind was swirling like a hurricane, but the man interrupted her breakdown as she realised how pretty much her in-laws, had kidnapped her. “At least tell us this – is – is it true he is alive? Or have we travelled across Faerun under the pretences of false hope?”

In truth, Y/N wanted to take them by the arms and drag them to her house, but whether Astarion wanted to reach out and reconnect, was up to him. That sort of a choice was not hers to make, but she could grant them this one request.

“He is.” Y/N nodded.

And then she left as quickly as she could because if she had to stand there and watch as the elves crumbled into one another, cries of relief and joy escaping into the slowly setting day, she would crumble too. Their faces were already permanently burned into her mind, and she needed a moment to process everything.

By a stroke of luck or fate, Y/N instantly recognised she was in the woods on the other side of Baldur’s Gate, so retracing her steps to the market was fairly easy even though the whole way back home, she was pretty much stumbling around in a daze, knocking into people and tripping over her own two legs.

Her discarded basket was right where she’d left it, gold coins scattered around it. The pouch must’ve broken during the struggle. Y/N made sure to pick every single piece up and was more than relieved to see, that the rose bloom was still intact.

By the time she arrived, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and as the last rays warmed her back, she extended her palm to open the door, though she didn’t even get to touch the handle as it was ripped open by a visibly distressed Astarion.

His eyes looked like he’d been crying, his hair as if he’d been relentlessly raking his fingers through the locks and his lower lip so bitten, there was a small hole where one of his incisors had gone through.

“Oh, thank the Gods!” Astairon instantly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in a bone-crushing hug, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “Thank the Gods!”

Y/N dropped the basket over the threshold and closed the door with her foot, her own arms weaving around his middle, a palm soothingly brushing along his side, as he soaked her in.

“I’m alright, Star,” she said, kissing his temple and didn’t even make a noise as he gripped her waist tighter, right where bruises were forming. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I’m alright.”

“What happened? You said you’d be quick, but you were gone for hours! And you know what the worst part was – I couldn’t even go out looking for you because of the damned fucking sun!” Astarion cupped her face, turning it this way and that way, trying to find any injuries, but the biggest one would be in her head as she tried to figure out how to explain to him what had happened. “Gods, I am never letting you out of my sight again!”

Y/N indulged the vampire in the hug he pulled her in, holding him against her chest, trying to comfort him, but she was way too consumed with her new findings. Too quickly, as evident by the frown on Astarion’s face, she untangled herself from the embrace, anxiety immediately flashing over his handsome features.

She slid her arms from around his waist to take his palms into hers. “I – I don’t even know how to say this… How do you say something like that?”

Worry instantly marred his brow, and Y/N pressed a practised thumb between them, trying to soothe them away.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!” She cupped his cheeks. “Astarion you’ve done nothing!”

“Then – then what?” He was tentative, still, scared Y/N might be angry at him. Or worse – wanted to leave, but her next words erased all that doubt.

“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Astarion, I met your parents today.”

Whatever he had expected, clearly that hadn’t been it. Probably a confession she’d met a past love, that their feelings were reignited and she wanted to go with them. But definitely not that.

He blinked once, twice, trice, completely and utterly stupefied before a small whisper of “What?” passed his lips.

“It’s why I’m so late,” Y/N explained. “They’d heard a rumour, that I knew you and had travelled with you during our tadpole situation, and came to me. Astarion, your parents are looking for you…”

A million thoughts seemed to swirl in his head, but Y/N held onto his hand through all of them.

“What,” he cleared his throat, “what did you tell them?”

“That I’d find them once I figured out what to do?”

“Which means?”

“Which means I would come home, give you this information and let you figure out what you’d like to do…”

So many emotions flashed across his face, but Y/N no longer needed that mind flayer tadpole connection it created – Astarion was an open book for her to read.

Joy. Such indisputable joy shone in his scarlet eyes before being consumed by confusion. Then anger and disgust and love, but by the end of it all his heart settled on one feeling – fear.

It’s what it knew best, though Y/N had tried her hardest to reduce it to ashes, yet still it lingered. She understood it, despite not being happy he ever had to feel it.

He feared what to do, what would be the right choice to make, he feared their reactions and what they would say of his disappearance or of his newest… condition. Would they accept him? Or would they be repulsed by him?

“What – what would I even say to them?” Astarion searched her Y/E/C eyes as if they held an answer, but when one magically didn’t appear, he hung his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can’t even remember what they looked like. Their names, the house we used to live in… it’s all a fog.”

Y/N tried to give him an encouraging smile. “Well, your mother – she has the most beautiful green eyes. Like that dress you made for me for Summer Solstice, that same shade. And – and she has a little beauty mark on her cheek.” With a gentle thumb, she brushed over the mole. “Right in that same spot.”

His brows furrowed in concentration; his lips pinched tightly. “I – I remember blue eyes. Not green.”

“That might be your father's. His are azure I’d say. Like the summer sky. Gods, Astarion,” Y/N breathed out. “You look so much like them, but… honestly, the only thing you need to know right now is that they looked relieved.” Her voice was soothing as he tried to find lies in her words, but there would be none. “I didn’t tell them anything apart from the fact that you’re alive, and all I saw was complete and utter relief.”

Y/N placed a strand of hair behind his ear as he pondered. His carmine eyes slid to hers. “Do they want to see me?”

“Yes. It was the whole reason they sought me out because I might have a single scrap of information on you.” She’d mention the kidnapping later. Or maybe never, depending on how everything went. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Is it,” he hesitated, as if ashamed to be asking such a question. “Is it alright if I think this over for a bit? I’m just – there’s so much going on in my head…”

“Of course, Star!” Y/N cupped his cheeks and placed a reassuring kiss on his forehead. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping, but she just shook her head.

“Nothing to thank me for. Not for this.”

And so, they continued on like that for a few days – Y/N didn’t bring the subject up, but she made sure Astarion knew, she’d be there whenever he needed to talk. Yet her mind couldn’t help but worry about the two elves in that little cottage on the other side of the town. How horrid it must be to wait for an answer that might never come, but her love was her first and only priority. When he decided it would be time, she’d support him no matter what.

It was a week after the revelation (and subsequent freakout on Astarion’s part when Y/N had removed her clothes before him, and he saw the raw skin and bruises on her ribs. She spent the whole night convincing him it was fine and talking him down from hunting the mercenary and bleeding him dry. She didn’t mention it had been his parents who’d hired him but rather said it had been an unfortunate coincidence), when Astarion awoke with a certain determination, shaking her awake.

She swatted at him like an insect buzzing by her ear. “Leave me be, you blood-sucking, elf!” Y/N grumbled, burying herself under the duvet. “It’s too early. And stop hogging the covers!”

She was just about to elbow him in the ribs if he didn’t let her sleep more, but what he said was like cold ice being poured over her, waking her up completely.

“I think I want to see my parents.”

Y/N was sat in a second. The sheet dropped down, exposing her naked chest, but she didn’t even feel the chilly air biting at her skin, even though Astarion’s gaze immediately dropped down to her breasts, eyes blazing with want.

Rolling her own eyes, she pulled the cover so that it obscured her indecency. Though it was his favourite outfit of hers, they needed to focus on the important things. “Are you sure? You can take all the time you need. There is no rush to this, and it’s a huge decision to make.”

“I’m sure,” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his moon-white locks and dropping back onto the pillows. “It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about.”

Y/N worried her lip before sliding back down next to him, letting him wrap his arms around her body. She knew in moments like these, Astarion needed reassurance, and he craved being close to her. Holding her grounded him, and made his scattered thoughts into something solid.

She kissed right above where his heart lay. “If, you’re sure.”

“I am… I just… Will you be there?” Astarion looked down at her.

The woman gave him a smile. “Nowhere I’d rather be than by your side.”

Gently, he brushed a finger against her cheekbone and leaned to kiss her, thankful he’d found someone to walk the world with, especially during the moments he feared he might break.

The day before they’d decided on meeting, Y/N ventured out to the cabin to inform the elven couple of Astarion’s decision. Once they’d seen her walking up through the window, they were out before she even managed to get to the door, faces full of hope.

“Astarion, he wants to come and see you, but there are some… conditions…”

His mother’s brow furrowed, the grimace so familiar it sent a pang through Y/N’s heart, but she swallowed it. “Whatever he needs. Whatever you both need. Anything for our little Star.”

“So… please just don’t question this, but umm… physical contact – I know I can’t possibly understand how you feel, but let him come to you first. It might not make sense, but it’s important that he is the one to make that step.”

“Of course,” Astarion's father nodded, his mother eagerly agreeing.

“And umm… he’ll be different. He might not look like the elf you remember him being. The world wasn’t kind to him for a long time… Please don’t mention this.”

Pain flashed across their faces at her words. They must have assumed something horrible had happened to him, but to have it confirmed was a different kind of agony. But as Y/N had asked – they didn’t question, simply nodded, holding onto one another a bit tighter.

“Alright.” Her heart was somewhat settled. “Thank you. We – uh- we’ll see you later tonight then.”

And with that, she left only to find Astarion pacing the inside of their hallway upon her return.

“Is it sundown already?” He snapped his neck to her as she removed her cloak, visibly upset when Y/N shook her head.

“A couple more hours, I’m afraid,” she said, taking his hand and kissing his palm, placing it against her cheek. “Please stop worrying. It will all be alright.”          

“But what if I’m making a mistake?”

She raised her brow. “Do you think you’re making a mistake?”

“N-no?” Astarion huffed. “I don’t know. I know I want to see them at least once, but what if it’s best to leave the past in the past? Why torture myself and exhume it, so to speak?”

“You can leave it all behind if that’s what you wish. But, Star, you also have the rarest of opportunities people get – a second chance.” She stepped close to him, pulling his head down by the nape of his neck so they could rest their foreheads against one another. “But you can always leave. You can always say “no.” And if someone doesn’t get that, no matter who they might be, I will gut them navel to throat.”

Astarion chuckled, brushing his nose against hers. “My knight in bloody armour, always ready to ride into battle for me.”

Y/N pecked his lips in response. “As long as I get my kisses at the end of it – without a second to spare.”

They spent the couple of hours waiting until the sun went down cleaning up around the house and then it was time to go.

As Astarion took a deep breath before closing the door, Y/N squeezed his hand. “We can turn back whenever you want to.”

But he seemed determined, only giving her a reassuring smile and twining their fingers together, her hand in his solid hold.

They walked slowly, enjoying the warm night gracing Baldur’s Gate, and soon enough they were through the city and past the woods, a small log cabin coming into view.

He stopped them a few feet away, taking in a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions.

Y/N glanced at him encouragingly. “Are you ready, Star?”

Astarion took in a deep breath, held it in for a moment and then exhaled, nodding. With this confirmation, she released his hand and ventured to the door, gently rapping her knuckles against it, immediately returning to stand beside her lover.

Instantly his palm was back into hers, as if he needed her to ground him, reassure him everything would be alright as nervous energy coursed through his veins while they waited for the inhabitants to come and see them. And though it was probably no more than ten seconds since she’d knocked, it felt like time had stood still. Once the doors opened, even nature quieted down.

The breeze shushed the tweeting birds and seemingly even the worms digging underground stopped their burrowing as finally, after two hundred years, the lost Ancunin son returned.

They stood like that for what seemed like ages, just taking one another in, before a small sob of Astarion’s name from his mother’s lips broke the spellbound silence.

It’s when he rushed for her, the elf already on her feet, meeting him halfway. Her arms wrapped tight around his body, hands smoothing down the back of his head as all the while she kept whispering “My Star, my little Star, you’re home.”

Y/N was on standby, ready to rip her away if Astarion became overwhelmed. She’d asked them to allow him to be the one to make the first step, and they had, but with such all-encompassing feelings, she just wanted him to be safe.

Though all that anxiety dissipated like ice under the blazing hear of the sun when Astarion practically melted against his mother, his fingers digging into her shoulders and back as if he never wished to be let go, both of them crumbling to their knees, still in each other’s embrace.

Tears welled along Y/N’s bottom lashes and when his father joined them, wrapping his arms around his family, they fell like rain on an autumn evening. She had to press a hand against her mouth to not sob out loud, but it didn’t seem like anyone would care, as Y/N noted Astarion’s shoulders shaking while his mother and father were freely crying, all the while touching and caressing his face, trying to ingrain the memory of having their son back in their arms.

She couldn’t imagine that feeling, didn’t ever want to, of finally being reunited with a family which you were so brutally ripped away from. Y/N almost wanted to resurrect Cazador, just so she could drive a stake through his heart again, but that might’ve been a bit too morbid of a thought in such a tender moment.

“You’re home.” His mother pulled back, cupping Astarion’s cheeks and smiling from ear to ear. “Our little Star is back home.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he choked out, but his father shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s enough for us.”

Y/N watched as he took in the people who’d searched for him relentlessly. He never knew they’d never given up. She wondered if there would be a time, he’d believe he was worth all it. She certainly hoped so.

“Thank you,” the elf with eyes like jade said, snapping her eyes towards Y/N. “You have no idea what kind of a gift you’ve bestowed upon us. We will never be able to repay you.”

She could only wave them off, a knot in her throat. “You owe me nothing. Seeing this – this is enough for me. I’ll – uh – I’ll leave you to it then.”

Just as she was about to turn around, Astarion jumped to his feet, untangling himself from the limbs of his parents, eyes full of concern. “What? Why? What’s wrong?” He was by her side in an instant, pulling her hand to rest against his chest.

“Nothing!” Y/N shook her head. “I just – I just think maybe I should take my leave. I can be back in a few hours if you’d like, but this just all seems like – like a private family reunion.”

Astarion scoffed, his free arm weaving around her waist, completely offended. “And what exactly do you think you are to me if not family, my love? Arguably, you might be the most important part of it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that -,”

“Hush now!” he scolded her. “You promised to be by my side through everything. Are you breaking that promise?”

“No, I just,” she stammered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you to it? This just feels awfully personal.”

“My love, you are the keeper of my heart. You are my true home.” Astarion cupped her cheek, resting his brow against hers, chest against chest, not caring who might see. “Without you, none of this would have happened. I could still be on that beach with a mind flayer tadpole wriggling behind my eye.” He took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, sighing as they brushed against his jaw. “I don’t want to do this without you. I want to relearn who my parents are, and I want them to get to know me, but a non-negotiable part of that is you. That is if it’s alright with you?”

A tear slipped down her cheek, as she looked deep into those ruby eyes that once held nothing but fear and pain, only to now show love and compassion and happiness. When she smiled, her grin could have rivalled the sun itself. “I’d be honoured.”

When they glanced at the two elves by the threshold of the house, they noted the horrified looks on their faces. Astarion’s guard was immediately up, but his mother beat him to it.

“My Star, I am so sorry!” She put a hand over her mouth. “We swear we didn’t know you two were lovers! We just...” She glanced at her husband in desperation, but it seemed the little scene they’d put on had rendered him speechless. “Had we known, we would have never…”

Astarion squinted at her, a dangerous note appearing in his voice. “Never would have what?”

“Oh Gods, we had your partner kidnapped,” his father finally got out, eyes only widening in more shock as it settled that Y/N wasn’t just a travelling companion or a friend, but just what she really meant to Astarion.

“You did what?!” His head snapped to Y/N who now retreated to stand between the two shocked elves, and her quite furious boyfriend.

“Astarion, it’s alright,” she tried to calm him down. “They didn’t know! Besides, I heard them arguing with that mercenary. They didn’t hurt me. In fact, I,” she let out a nervous chuckle, “I held a knife to your mother’s throat. So, call it even and let’s move past it?”

His gaze was hot like the flames, as it burned into her. “We will discuss this later.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “This is absolutely not how I ever imagined a family reunion to go, let alone the introduction of my partner.”

Y/N’s shoulders dropped as he broke the settled tension, but something in his eyes told her she’d pay for her omissions. And oh, how delicious that punishment would be.

His mother still seemed to be all nerves as she invited them inside, spouting apologies in Y/N’s direction, but when she took the elf's hand in hers and gave a comforting embrace, she relaxed a little. “Let’s let the bygones be bygones.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled, and wrinkles of age and time appeared around her eyes.

It was awkward at first, two centuries of hurt laying between them, two centuries of torture on Astarion’s end, of lost love and people, but slowly they opened up. And when his mother mentioned how he always used to bury his nose into strawberry fields, because it reminded him of his mother’s hair care products, it was like a damn had been opened.

The memories were still there, buried under layers of pain and horrors, but there. Maybe a little jumbled up and out of sorts, but with every hour spent together, locks were being broken and a light long lost lit up again.

Astarion had changed, but so had his parents. He let them know of his adventures, how he met Y/N and how she had turned his world upside down but abstained from the more gruesome parts. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but if he so wished, she knew his parents would be there to listen and welcome his vulnerably with open arms.

An hour before the sun resumed its place in the sky, Y/N nudged Astarion, telling him it was time to leave. She had little doubt in her mind, his parents had caught onto what he was, even if they hadn’t mentioned Cazador. If not for the shape of his elongated canines, or the colour of his eyes, which Y/N had found out had been a beautiful shade of pale green, then because of the brutal scars on his neck. But they still pulled him into a hug with such vigour, it was like they feared they’d never see him again, which was probably a thought always haunting their minds.

“Would – would you like to come over to ours?” Astarion asked, still holding onto his mother’s hands. “It’s a bit of a mess, our place, but if you come after the sun’s down, I’m sure we can have it proper enough to take on guests.”

It was an odd request, but thankfully, neither his mother nor father said anything about the specific time request, simply hugged him once more and promised to be by their door the second the sun dipped, wine and lemon cakes in hand.

As they waved their goodbyes, Astarion slipped his palm into Y/N’s and made sure they walked all the way back like that. Once behind a closed door, he pulled her into his chest relishing in the way their bodies melded together – two puzzle pieces finally connecting and forming the most magnificent picture to exist.

“What is it like to be finally home?” Y/N asked as he swayed them to a tune only, he heard.

Astarion shook his head, pulling slightly back so he could cup her jaw. “My love, I have been home for a long time now. I’ve been safe and cared for, all thanks to you.” His eyes were so full of love and adoration, she almost choked on a breath. “Now… now it just feels complete. So thank you… thank you for being my home,” he muttered that little confession against her skin, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Always, my love.” Y/N didn’t hide the tears rolling down her face and he brushed them away with a soft thumb. “Always.”

When their gazes locked, all she could see was excitement for what the new day had to offer, and she knew whatever was in store, as long as they were by one another’s side, there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.

But for all that, there was an important thing she was unaware of.

As Y/N entered their living room, talking to herself and making a list of what they had to do before his parents arrived, Astarion stood and watched her, leaning against the doorframe, all the while his hands rested in his pocket, where in one of them, a beautiful ring was being twirled between his fingers.

Before they’d left, his mother had slyly pulled it off her own hand, pressing it into his palm, and whispering to him while hugging that she didn’t want to see Y/N without it the next time around.

Astarion had no intention of living his life without Y/N as his fiancé for a second longer.

When she turned around to find him on one knee, he didn’t even get to ask the question before she responded with a shout of “Yes!” and jumped on him, pulling him into a kiss he swore breathed life into his still chest.

He couldn’t wait to reintroduce Y/N to his parents as his intended.

Now all was as it should be. He was finally home. And somewhere in the garden, a rose bloomed in full.

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: This idea was inspired by that one post of a painting Astarion's parents probably had of him, but had put away somewhere just so they didn't have to look a the son they lost, so I rectified it (Link to the inspo pic :) :( Now they have a portrait of Astarion and his love right above their fire place :)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don't plagiarise or repost on other platforms.

[carmenberzattosgf]

NSFW alphabet : carmen berzatto

Content: fem reader, pure filth, size kink (easily skippable), daddy kink (easily skippable), dom/sub dynamics,

Word count: 5605

A/N: This is really filthy. I got a bit carried away as you can tell by the word count. Enjoy ! <<3

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

He’s a clinger. Carmy gets needy and touchy after sex, so he’s not going to leave your side. After normal sex, he lays on top of you for awhile because he loves the closeness of the physical contact. He’s pressing kisses all over your neck and mumbling how much he loves you over and over again. When it’s finally time to get up, he’s bringing a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean up between your legs. He’s so sweet and tender in moments like this, diligent in cleaning up the cum from your thighs. 

After a dom/sub type of scene, Carmy takes such good care of you. Beforehand he stashes everything he needs beside the bed so he doesn’t have to leave you afterwards. He stores the supplies in a wicker bin: pH balanced sensitive skin-safe wipes, a bottle of water, protein bars and other snacks (i.e chocolate), soothing ointment, your favorite t-shirt of his, hair ties, and even one of those instant ice packs if you need it. 

If you’re in that floaty place, he narrates every single thing he’s doing. Even though you can’t speak, he still wants to make sure you’re aware of what he’s doing before he does it.

“Okay, baby I’mma put your hair up into a messy bun to get it off your neck.”

“It’s going to be a little bit cold at first but I’m using these wipes to clean up between your legs.”

“I’m going to roll you over so I can take care of your bottom, and put some ointment on for you. I’ve already got a pillow to support your stomach.”

Carmy is so gentle while he takes care of you. It’s his favorite part of a scene, not getting off, but tending to you.

“Sweetheart, I need you to try and sit up so you can take some sips of water. Can you do that for me?” 

You’re stubborn and just wanna fall asleep in that floaty place so Carmen literally has to prop you up with pillows and force a straw between your lips. 

“Three big sips—there we go. Atta girl, good job.”

The best part of aftercare is saved for last, cuddling. Carmy lays you on top of his chest so you’re not laying on your raw backside, and softly pets your hair until you fall asleep. 

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He likes his hands. They do everything for him in the kitchen. They’re skilled and precise. Carmy is not the type of guy to be really into parts of his body, but his hands are alright. 

Now for you, he genuinely loves all of your body. Your face, your eyes, everything. However, he’s a major boob guy. He likes them in all sizes. He just loves tits (peep the mommy issues). One of his favorite parts of sex is getting to leave bite marks all over your chest. Send him a nude with your tits in it? Bye! He’s a goner. 

Thighs come in close second. He grips your thighs so hard during sex that sometimes you can make out small finger sized bruises in the mirror afterwards. Much like your boobs, he loves to mark up your thighs with hickies. He knows that he’s the only one that gets to see those marks so he leaves a bunch. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s obsessed with cumming inside of you. The sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt for the first time permanently rewires his brain. He’s convinced there’s no better feeling that filling you up with his cum. He’s nasty about it too, pressing any that has dripped out of you back into your cunt with his fingers. 

“Gotta keep you nice and filled up for me. I don’t want anything to go to waste. Here—“ He reaches for a pillow and lifts up your hips, placing it under your back. “There we go. Now it can’t spill out.” 

If he can’t cum inside of you, he cums on your stomach. The thing about Carmy is that he cums a lot, like the volume is massive. When he cums on your stomach, you’re covered in him. He’ll be fisting his cock for a good twenty seconds before the spurts of cum finally slow down. It’s all over you, dripping off of your hips onto the sheets. The first thing Carmy does is reach over for his phone on the bedside table. He takes a picture of you from the neck down, completely painted with white. The picture immediately goes into his locked camera folder. 

Finally, Carmy would rather cum in your mouth than on your face. He doesn’t want to get any in your eye. He’s truly a sweetheart (sometimes). Once, you stuck out your tongue full of cum for him, and his hard on came right back. His body was ready to go again after seeing his cum drip off of your tongue, down your neck, and into your cleavage. He’s a simple man at heart.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really wants to try shibari with you, like really bad. He’s been researching heavily into it, about all of the knots and the types of rope. He doesn’t want to get into serious stuff like suspension, but he wants to cover your body in pretty and elaborate knots. Carmy’s mainly focused on the types of shibari that restrains your arms behind your back, making your chest jut out. He wants to surround your breasts with intricate knots. He might mess around with some patterns on your hips and thighs, but he’d rather tie up your arms, not your legs.  

He’s drawn to shibari because it’s almost mixing art intimacy ( because shibari doesn’t have to involve sex or pleasure). It’s a time that he can spend getting close to you while you’re letting go and trusting him completely. The tying up process isn’t short; it can take awhile. He thinks it would make your relationship stronger, and also let him be dominate in a way that’s different from just straight up sex. 

It will take him a very very long time to ever bring it up to you, though. He doesn’t want to freak you out or make you uncomfortable. He understands how much control a person is giving up when someone restrains them. 

In all seriousness, you probably ask him about it after you see a tab open on his laptop. He’s already left for work for the day and forgot to close out the tab. You grab his laptop, wanting to do the daily mini, and when you open it up, you’re met with an in depth rope tying tutorial. 

You decide to tread carefully on the topic when he gets home from work that day, since it seems like he was keeping it a secret. Once he’s gotten a shower, Carmy curls up with you on the couch to watch a little tv before going to bed. 

“I saw something interesting today, Carm.”

“Yeah? What might that be, baby?”

“Well, I was using your laptop to do the daily mini like I always do, and I saw a tab pulled up. Something to do with ropes?” Carmy instantly tenses up like he’s entered freeze mode. 

“Oh—uh, uhm. Sorry you’re probably like—freaked out now and—“ Carmy says quickly, without taking a breath. He’s on the verge of hyperventilating. 

“Baby, baby. Calm down. You’re all good. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” You start to comb through his hair with your fingers, massaging at his scalp in a way that relaxes him. “Why don’t you tell me all about it, yeah?” 

He does just that, explaining shibari and all the research he’s done into it. Carmy’s a bit surprised when you agree to it without any hesitation. 

“You know you don’t have do to this for me. I’m not going to be upset if you say no.”

“I trust you, Carmen. I love you and I know you’ll take care of me and keep me safe. If I don’t like it I’ll be honest with you.”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

This one is going to heavily depend on when you get into a relationship with Carmy. When he’s newly in New York, trying to become the greatest chef of all time? He’s horribly inexperienced. He barely knows how to interact with the opposite sex without getting red in the face. However, he’s eager to learn! He might not know exactly what he’s doing in the moment with you, but he wants you to feel good. He’s determined to make you orgasm. He asks what feels good and what doesn’t feel good. Carmy’s not afraid to ask you questions during sex either.  

Now if you meet him after he’s back in Chicago, he has more experience under his belt. New York and all of the places he traveled to during those years away from home gave him opportunities to become more confident with sex. Although, he still gets nervous about it, especially when he’s sleeping with someone for the first time. The awkwardness hasn’t gone away completely. 

At this point in your relationship with Carmy, he knows what he’s doing. He pays attention to your body and the way you react to his touch. Carmy learns what you like before you even have the chance to tell him. Every touch of his hands is purposeful to bring you pleasure. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Missionary. No question about it. He wants to be able to look at you while he fucks you. He loves the closeness of the position, getting to feel your legs wrapped around his waist. It’s so intimate, and Carmy craves that intimacy. His favorite part of missionary is when you both are so close to the edge, with your foreheads resting against each other. He gets to look in your eyes and praise you. “You’re so pretty. So fucking gorgeous—fuck, baby.” 

“Taking me so well— always take me so well.” “Love you, love you, love you so much.” 

Oh, and his other favorite part about missionary is getting to kiss you. He fucking loves kissing you during sex. Sure, it’s messy, with teeth and lips clashing together half the time, but he cannot get enough of your mouth. That moment when you have to break the kiss to moan out because of how good he feels inside of you is what he loves about kissing you in missionary. 

Carmy also enjoys anything that lets him see your face. With your legs over each of his shoulders, he’s found he can hit even deeper inside of you. Don’t worry, he puts a small pillow underneath the small of your back to make you comfortable. The angle makes your eyes roll back. 

If he’s honest with himself he fucking loves the position where he practically forces your thighs to meet your chest. His cock his so fucking deep inside of you he just has to make comments about it. “That too deep? Yeah? Can you feel me in your stomach?” Oh, and when he starts pressing his hand on your lower stomach so you can feel him moving in and out of you? The sensation is almost too much. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

This is Carmen Berzatto here. He’s so serious about everything, and that applies to sex, too. He’s just not the type to joke around during sex. He craves the intimacy of sex and doesn’t want to make light of the connection. That doesn’t mean sex with Carmy is overly serious. More so that he would rather not incorporate humor into sex. 

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carmy is so neat and meticulous. He literally cuts pieces of tape with a knife so it has a clean edge. With all things considered, he keeps it neat downstairs. Definitely not bald, but he trims up frequently. He cannot stand it when it’s crazy down there. 

For his partner? He does not give a fuck about the grooming of down there. Not one single bit. Do whatever you want and he will still be a happy man. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

So intimate. Genuinely, he’s so romantic. Carmy’s kissing all over your body, praising every inch of your skin. It’s honestly jarring at first how intimate and intense he can be in the bedroom. Carmy puts his all into sex, much like he puts his all into the kitchen. He holds you so close the entire time. If you’re riding him on the couch? Yeah, he’s got both arms wrapped around you so your chest is pressed to his. This lets him make eye contact if he wants, or lets him moan into the crook of your neck. Carmy literally wants as much of his skin touching yours as possible during sex. Even if he has you on your stomach, he’s not going to settle for just doggy style because there’s not enough contact. Instead he’s leaning over you holding you up so your back presses against his chest. He sloppily kisses your shoulders and the back of your neck from this position. 

Let’s talk about eye contact—he’s staring right through you. He’s just so observant and doesn’t want to miss a single expression you make. God, the look in his eyes during sex practically puts you under a spell. He looks down at you through the bottom of his eyes with blown out pupils. 

So yeah Carmy makes sex extremely intimate every time without fail. 

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Most of the time when Carmy jacks off it’s all about efficiency. He’s not trying to take time out of his day to get off. He’s the type to get off in the shower after work. It’s quick and rough, but he knows how to get himself off fast. 

Now, when you first come into his life? His routine changes a bit. Before you two start dating, Carmy masturbates to the idea of you. He honestly hates himself a bit for it, but it happens on accident. 

He hops out of the shower after work, puts on a pair of boxer briefs, and sits down on his couch. He didn’t touch himself in the shower, wanting to build up the tension a little bit.

When Carmy starts touching himself, his hands move slowly. Recently, he’s learned how much he likes teasing himself. So, he palms over his covered length, applying the right amount of pressure to make his hips twitch. Without even realizing it, Carmy’s mind wanders to you. 

You’ve been plaguing his mind all week long in the kitchen. Sydney assigned your prep to be right next to his, and he hasn’t been able to keep his mind off of you. In the kitchen, he keeps getting distracted by your pretty smile, and by the little jokes you make during the lunch rush. 

Gradually, the hand steadily pressing down on his hard length isn’t his own anymore. Instead he pictures your hand as the one working on him; that delicate, dainty hand of yours he’s watched prep food all week. 

Carmy gives up on teasing himself once the images of you pop into his head. He hastily pushes down his boxers to his thighs. The tip of his cock leaks with precum, dripping onto his length. Carmy’s head falls back in a choked moan when he finally grips himself. His heart races as he gently strokes his cock. It’s much different from his usual fast pace, but he’s trying to picture how you would do it; on how your hands would be so delicate compared to his callused ones. Carmy wonders if you would tease him, or if you would be dead set on bringing him to orgasm quickly. 

It’s a slippery slope when Carmen starts to picture you taking his cock into your mouth. His hand starts to pump faster as the image grows more vivid in his mind. He’s lost the gentleness of his movements, but he doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about is the vision of you on your knees in front of him. Your lips are swollen as they stretch around his cock. He thinks about the sounds you would make—how you would moan with his dick taking up your mouth. Spit would dribble from your lips onto your chin as you bob your head on his length. What brings him to the edge, though, is the idea of fucking your face. He would hold your head delicately in his hands, but thrust with his hips deep into your throat. Tears would slip from your eyes as he shoves you all the way down so your nose meets the skin above his dick. 

Carmy cums hard all over his stomach, wishing it was your throat instead. He swears he blacks out for a second from the pleasure. When the post orgasm clarity hits, he hastily cleans himself up. Carmy tells himself he won’t do it again, picture you while he’s masturbating, but he knows that’s a load of bullshit. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding— Carmy and breeding go together like peanut butter and jelly. It’s why he’s always cumming inside of you. He wants to show everyone your his, and what’s a better way than knocking you up with his kid? He’s low key obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. 

Overstimulation— Carmy’s a soft dom. He wants to make you cum over and over and over again before he even thinks about orgasming. His goal is for your head to be spinning by the end of it. 

Spanking— Carmy’s into spanking, okay? However, before he even thinks about doing it in the bedroom he talks to you about it multiple times at length. He clarifies a safe word with you and establishes your limits. You do the same thing with him because safe words and boundaries go both ways! Normally, he’s only going to spank you as a punishment for something. The way you whimper and moan in his lap as he spanks you makes him so hard. It honestly gives Carmy a rush to see you dripping from his hand coming down on your ass. 

Size kink— It’s definitely arises from insecurities about his height, let’s be honest here. Regardless of your height though, Carmy just likes feeling that he’s bigger than you. It’s why he’s so ripped. No matter how tall you are he’s got enough muscle to hold you down in bed. Now, if you are shorter than him, even better. 

The size kink appears in other ways other than just pure body size. For one, it drives him crazy how much smaller your hands are compared to his. Seeing your dainty hand wrapped around his cock drives Carmy up the wall. You can barely wrap your fingers all the way around his length. 

He loves to watch as your cunt takes his fingers. They’re so much wider and longer than your own, so he goes slow. 

Finally, his size kink comes into play most when he’s fucking you. He’s soothing you while he works his cock into your cunt. Once he’s all the way in, he can’t help but point out of the sight of him inside of you. “Look. You see that?” Carmy asks while drawing your attention to the small bulge in you stomach, right above your mound. It’s hard to see when he’s not moving, so he lightly thrusts in deeper so the bulge moves. 

“F-fuck, yeah— I can see that,” you whine in response. Carmy’s hand moves over the bulge and he presses down, hard, before he starts rolling his hips into you at a quick pace. 

“Such a good girl taking my cock like this. I’m surprised it even fit, baby. Taking me so fucking well.”

Praise— He loves giving praise and being praised. He’s calling you everything. His love, his good girl, his princess, his baby. He’s telling you how good you’re doing for him, and how perfect you are for him. 

“Made for me. You know that? Fucking perfect.”

“You’re so pretty. My pretty girl.” 

“I love you so much. Fuck—you feel so good, squeezing me like that—shit.”

And you offer praise back in return because goodness knows Carmy needs to hear it after all those years being insulted in the kitchen. 

“You’re so pretty, too. You make me feel so good, Carmy.”

“Love these muscles,” you say while feeling his abs as he thrusts into you. “So hot how strong you are, baby.” Those types of comments from you make his brain short circuit. 

Daddy kink— Okay, nothing turns him on more than being called daddy. It just, does something to his brain. A pretty girl like you? Calling him daddy? Begging him to fuck you? Yeah, he’s close to cumming in his pants from that. It’s just the soft dom thing he has going for him. He wants to take care of you in every way possible, make you feel good, and provide for you. 

“Please daddy, need you,” you beg. 

“I got you sweet girl. Daddy’s going to take care of you, don’t worry.”

L= Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers a good old mattress. It’s basic but it’s private and comfortable. Carmy also likes fucking on a couch, too. Mainly because if he’s started getting hot and heavy on a couch, he’d rather fuck you there than carry you to the bedroom. He’s all about efficiency!

Part of him enjoys fucking at the restaurant. Not all the time, though, but there’s something about fucking you in a locked office that really gets him going. He has to keep his palm clasped over your mouth to keep you quiet. Whenever he has sex with you at the restaurant, it’s always fast, rough, and passionate. Usually, it’s to release stress, but even if it’s not, you’re going to have trouble walking straight afterwards. Richie makes an all knowing face when you walk out of the office, and heat builds up in your cheeks as you get out of the front doors as fast as possible. 

Oh, and Carmy loves to get on his knees and eat you out while you’re sitting on the kitchen counter at his apartment. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything. Anything at all. When he’s into someone, he’s into them. Your touch alone can be enough to turn him on. 

With that being said, there are some specific things that drive Carmy crazy. For one, you wearing his clothes. 

One time you walked into the Bear before opening hours wearing one of his classic white t-shirts. He thought he was about to have a brain aneurysm seeing you in his clothes. The way the fabric draped over your body— yeah he had to take you back into the office as soon as you walked into the restaurant. 

Speaking of clothes, dresses and skirts are his favorite articles of clothing on you. He thinks that you look so very pretty in them, and he also likes the easy access. 

As mentioned in K, if you whisper anything in his ear involving the word “daddy”, he’s dragging you off somewhere immediately. 

Thinking about this specifically at some kind of chefs’ gala. Carmen’s been in a circle of chefs from around the area talking for what feels like hours, now. All you want to do right now is go home. You make your way up to Carmy, and balance on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Are you going to be done soon, daddy? I’d rather go home and spend time with you.”

You can see the way Carmy’s hands tighten around the glass in his hand before he speaks to the people around him. “If you’ll excuse me, folks. My girl isn’t feeling well so I’m going to take her home. Glad to have gotten to talk to you all.”

Yeah, Carmy drives to the darkest part of the parking lot and tells you to get into the back seat. He can’t wait until he gets home to fuck your brains out. 

N = No (Something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

Anything that would actually hurt you. He limits stuff like spanking to just his hand. He refused to use anything else for impact play. He won’t do CNC ever. Like never ever. 

Carmy also won’t be a full on sub himself. He loves control, and needs to be in control to have a good time. The idea of losing control and being tied up is enough to send him into a panic attack.  

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Carmy loves eating pussy. He wants to stay in between your legs all day long. He won’t shut up about how good you taste. “So good, baby. Wanna taste some?” He’ll say before pressing a soaking wet finger to your lips. 

There’s so much to say about munch Carmen. He’s so fucking good at it, too. He alternates between licking and sucking at your clit in a way that makes your vision go blurry. He knows enough about your anatomy to pull back the hood with his thumb so he can suck right on the exposed bud. The first time he does it, you swear stars explode in your field of vision. 

He just LOVES eating you out! He gets to look up at you with those big blue eyes as you writhe against his face in pleasure. It makes him feel useful and needed, if he’s being honest. He could probably cum just from eating you out. The feeling of your fingers tugging in his hair, the sounds of your cries in his ears, and the pressure of your thighs closing around his head makes Carmy moan into your cunt like a madman. 

So yeah Carmy prefers to give head, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop you from blowing him. He tends to not last as long, though. Your warm mouth around him, sucking and licking at his tip. The way your take him all the way back in your throat. Fuck— the feeling of you gagging around him as his cock hits the back of your throat. He’s praising you the entire time, too. 

“Look at you—fuck. Taking my cock in that pretty mouth of yours so well.”

“So good, baby. So fucking good with your mouth—holy shit.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

The answer is all of the above. Most of the time he prefers to take his time with you because he wants to savor the moment with you. Carmy’s favorite way to fuck you is slow and deep. He wants you to feel him all the way in your stomach. If he’s in a mood, however, he’s all for being fast and rough. Ultimately his pace is going to be whatever gets you off the best. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies aren’t his favorite thing ever, but he has them often. He hates how busy his work is purely because it prevents him from having  sex with you as often and as long as he would like to. Quickies usually happen at the restaurant in his office. That’s where a fast and rough pace comes into play, because there’s one goal in mind; Get off, and get off fast before someone notices. If there’s just way too many people in the restaurant, he’s not opposed to taking you in the backseat of his car for a quick fuck. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Oh he’s for sure open to experimenting in the bedroom. He will try just about anything that you’re willing to try. 

As for risks, he’s down to take calculated risks. However, once he fucked you in the restaurant bathroom while the place was still the beef because the office didn’t have a lock (He fixed that during the remodel). It was all going great until Fak started banging on the door shouting that he was about to piss himself. Real mood killer. Now, Carmy is more careful about the risks he takes. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Carmy can last for quite awhile. He has so much pent up energy that he can keep going and going. He won’t admit it, but he one hundred percent thinks about his time at Noma to keep himself from cumming. He only has to do it sometimes, though. 

Additionally, Carmy is a two rounds max kind of a guy. There’s just only so many times that he can cum before he’s going to pass out from exhaustion. Remember, he did fall asleep on a prep table that one time. 

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Carmy doesn’t haven’t any toys for himself. His hand has always done the job, and he saw no reason to get something else. 

With you, he’ll use a toy from time to time, but it’s rare. He’d much rather make you squirm with his own hand, or his mouth than with a toy. It gives him a sense of pride when he’s made you shake without using anything other than his own body. 

Now, I can see him buying you a really expensive vibration to use while he’s away on trips. As long as you face time him when you use it so he can get off too, of course. 

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Carmen is such a fucking tease. He loves teasing you in and out of the bedroom with his words. When it comes to in the bedroom, half of the fun for him is teasing. He’s running the head of his cock through your folds mumbling stuff like: 

“Want me to put it in, baby? I can feel how wet you are right now.”

“C’mon. You gotta say it with your words. I don’t know what you want unless you tell me, honey.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He groans a lot into your neck. Curses a bunch too, like strings of curse words. Carmen can get pretty loud if he’s feeling really good. When he’s close to cumming, Carmen’s voice degrades into a whine that makes you dig your nails into his back to hear it again. As it reaches that point, he doesn’t care how desperate he sounds. “N-need you to cum. Please cum for me, baby. Need to f-feel you cum around my cock.”

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

One word. Choking. Carmy loves choking. He’s on top of you and wraps his hand around your throat just enough to cut off the blood circulation for half a second. You go absolutely crazy when his hand wraps around your throat because the euphoria is so intense. It’s like you’re on cloud nine. 

Sometimes when he’s fucking you from behind he wraps his bicep around your neck to have the same affect on you. 

Alternatively, Carmen realizes that he also enjoys being choked, at least a little bit. It happens naturally when you're on top riding him. His head falls back and exposes his neck, so you just reach forward and squeeze a little. Carmy’s eyes pop wide open as he feels the blood rush to his head. It’s so blissful he’s just laying with his head thrown back and his mouth open as you release the pressure. 

“Does that feel good for you, too?” you ask. Carmy can’t even speak, he just nods dumbly at your question. “That’s why I love it so much when you do it to me, Carm.” When you squeeze again, he’s spilling into you with a choked groan. 

X = X-ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

His cock is so fucking thick oh my god. It’s a bit  longer than average length wise, but the girth is massive. You’re not even sure you can take it when he pulls his cock out for the first time. He has to fuck you so slow the first time you have sex because the stretch is just so much. He spends at least the first five minutes inside of you staying completely still to let you adjust to his size. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s down to have sex whenever and wherever (as long as it’s private). Carmy feels like he doesn’t fuck you enough as is, which is why you two are increasingly having quickies in his office as his time becomes more consumed by the Bear. 

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Carmy is very much awake up until the point he finishes your aftercare. Meanwhile the second you cum you’re fighting your eyelids begging Carmy to cuddle you to sleep. He has a job to do, though, he needs to clean you up, and carry you to the bathroom so you don’t get a UTI. Once he’s finished with after care he’s out like a light with you tucked in his arms, resting on his chest. 

[bruh--wtf]

Tutor for Time

Theodore Nott x gryffindor! reader

summary: Theo is terrible with his words, and reader already had some presumptions about him. So when Theo takes an opportunity to spend time with the reader it is their friend Pansy’s responsibility to fix both of their assumptions.

Warning: this is my first time writing for Theo so idk how good it is but lmk! <3

You’d never actually spoken to Theodore Nott and you never planned on doing so. No matter how good of friends you were with Pansy, Blaise and Enzo, Theodore Nott was unapproachable.

“No, absolutely not.” Pansy frowns at you.

“He’s not actually that scary. He just has a resting bitch face.” You glare at her and shake your head.

“It’s not that. In fact, he’s quite handsome, it’s the fact that he notoriously hates anything having to do with Gryffindor. He’s also a notorious fuck boy, and seems to take extra pleasure in breaking the girls hearts in my house. I’ve heard to many stories to even think of asking him for help.” You shake your head and start reading the read annotations Snape had left all over your paper.

“He’s your best chance at passing.” You glare at her and glance over at Theodore again on the other side of the room. She was right, he did have a resting bitch face. He always looked like he hated everything, and his gray eyes were perpetually fixed in an expression of annoyed indifference. While his friends laughed around him, the only hint of emotion he showed was the slightest smirk.

So, yes, Theodore Nott was unapproachable. But also incredibly attractive. Which might have said more about you than him.

“I can ask him for you if you like. Or at least mention that you’re looking for a tutor,” Pansy offers, slightly more gentle than previously. You look at her again, chewing on the inside of your cheek. When you glance down at your paper covered in red marks again, you sigh.

“Yeah, alright,” you finally concede. Pansy grins and goes back to her work, unnervingly excited at your agreeing. And when you look up at Theodore again, you find him already looking between you and your friend. When he sees you looking his eyes seem to harden before he looks away.

Oh, he definitely hates you.

***

You finally walk into the library five minutes late, and Theodore is waiting for you at a table in the back corner. You have to take a deep breath before walking up to him and taking a seat across from him.

“Thanks for finally gracing me with your presence.” You blink at him. His accent is thicker somehow when he is speaking directly to you. You would think living surrounded by the English for the past five and a half years would have depleted the accent a bit, but it’s still very prominent.

“I got caught up with some friends. I’m only a few minutes late.” Theodore finally looks up at his books and his dead eyes meet yours.

“And that makes wasting my time alright?” You blink at him and have to bite your tongue to remind yourself that he is actually taking time out of his day to help you. So don’t be a complete bitch.

“No of course not. Sorry. Thank you for meeting me, though.” He just shrugs looking down again.

“Pansy wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t have much of a choice.” You clench your naw again and nod.

“Right.” Theodore jumped right into the reading after that. You had to scramble to get your book at, which he didn’t seem to care about in the slightest. By the time it was almost curfew, Theodore didn’t show the slightest sign of being any more tired than when you had sat down with him. You, on the other hand, had earned at least three kicks in the leg when your eyes would start drooping shut.

Finally, you found your out when Madame Pince yelled out that the library would close in ten minutes. You quickly sat up for the first time in over an hour and watched as Theodore just kept rambling on about the importance of some herb.

“Are we almost done?” You finally blurt out. That’s when he finally looks up again. He raises an eyebrow at you, not looking amused in the slightest.

“Do you understand more than you did the last time you got a question wrong?” You scowl at his response and deflate a little in your seat.

“The library closes soon.” He nods and snaps his book shut, making you jump a little at the sudden change.

“Perfect. Then I can have a break of your stupid answers until tomorrow.” You gawk at him. Once the words finally process in your head, you stand up, grabbing your things.

“Just because I have one sore subject doesn’t make me an idiot, Nott. I’m smart enough not to waste my time with an ass like you again.”

“Ouch.” His smirk and sarcastic tone makes you all the angrier, and you send a final glare his way before starting to walk off. “You need me to pass the next test on Thursday.” You turn around to see him gathering his things as if he hadn’t just said anything. For a moment you thought you’d imagined it.

“I can find someone else to help me. Someone who actually wants to and isn’t just here to be a condescending ass who likes to make me feel bad about myself,” you snap. Theodore looks over his shoulder at you and studies you for a moment.

“I admit my last comment was a bit harsh but I just spent the last five hours trying to teach you. Who else is going to do that?” He turns, leaning on the table as his arms cross over his chest. You pause for a moment. That almost sounded like regret from Theodore Nott. You didn’t think there was such a thing.

“Fred’s quite good at potions. I’m sure he’d help me.” Theodore raises an eyebrow.

“Weasley? Sure, he’d help you for ten minutes before distracting himself and you with something else.” You clench your jaw, sad to admit that he had a point. Neither Fred nor George were very academic and even when they were they were terrible at staying focused.

“Why do you want to help me? Is Pansy paying you or something?” Theodore shakes his head, turning back to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. He walks up to you, the ass having the gall to tower over you after everything else.

“No. She’s not, nor is anyone else. I’ll see you here same time tomorrow.” You blink at him, and he’s walking away. Unfortunately, he’s right. You will see him tomorrow.

And the next day.

And finally, on Wednesday night, you’re staring at the review Theodore had created for the test the very next day with your head in your hands.

“How am I supposed to remember all this?” Theodore shrugs as he works on his own work across from you.

“The same way the rest of us do. You study.” You glare at him and kick his shin like he’d done to you so many times, which manages to earn you his attention.

“I’ve been studying. I’ve spent more time with you in here than I have in my own bed the last few days and I still feel like it’s all going to leave my head the second I leave.” Theodore tilts his head and studies you as you slouch back in your seat.

“What helps you remember when you’re here?” You bite the inside of your cheek. You know the answer and yet you hate to admit it to the boy. However, the truth was the truth. And that was that you had grown attached to Theodore’s praise. Well, about as close as he came to it. Whenever you were right, he’s award you with the smallest of smiles and a little nod. And if he was reading over your papers, you liked watching as his eyes skimmed the words and sometimes you could tell you were right when his head tilted down a little more to hide the smile you liked so much. He didn’t like admitting you were right despite being the reason for it.

Eventually, he gestured for an answer and you had to sigh. “You, I suppose,” you finally admit, neglecting to tell him why you like being right with him so much. Theodore seems to like that answer, though as he gives you one of those small smiles that are nothing like his usual smirk.

“Well, lucky for you I happen to be just across the room, incase you haven’t noticed.” You blink up at him. “So, you should be just fine.” You smile a little and tilt your head.

“Careful, Nott. I believe you just comforted a Gryffindor.” Your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed by Theodore. He smirks a little and his eyes go back down to his work and his quill.

“If I’m your good luck charm you could at least call me Theo.” His blatant ignoring of your comment still shocks you.

“Fine, then. Theo?” He lifts his head again and hums in response. “Why are you helping me?” He tilts his head in a way that reminds you of your friend’s cat when you hold catnip.

“Pansy gave me an excuse to sit with you and I took it.” Your brows scrunch together and it is your turn to tilt your head and his to study you. “We have mutual friends, and I never wanted them to be the reason that I got to be alone with you.”

He tilted his head back straight and you continued to stare at him. “Is that one of your lines?” He brings his hand up to rest his chin on. It’s the first time you’ve seen him lean on the table.

“What are you talking about?” You roll your eyes and wait for him to crack up but he doesn’t.

“You don’t like me, or anyone else that has anything to do with my House. Everyone knows that. And I’m not the idiot to fall for it.” He just stares for a moment before shaking his head.

“I’ve definitively had my fun, just like Mattheo, and definitely Enzo have. How does that make me a worse person than them?” Your throat runs dry and you can’t think of a good way to word your thoughts.

“I didn’t say you were… Enzo is terrible to girls and I am well aware of that. You’re not better or worse.” He rolls his eyes and starts gathering his papers.

“I’ve never told a girl I’d be hers and then not followed through. I’m always honest, unlike some of my friends who love false promises because they think it gets them better head. And it’s not my fault if girls think that just because I’ve been in their bed means suddenly I’ll want to go out with them.” You watch as he stands up, looking more annoyed than you have ever seen him. “Before you think about me being an ass again, maybe think that you only hear the side of delusional girls who have also fucked half of my friends. And I didn’t want to meet up with you to get into your pants I could’ve gotten that much easier from someone who tries much harder to get into mine.” He shoves his things in his bag and starts walking out of the library without so much as looking back at you, and your left staring at an empty chair trying to process the words of the boy you’d clearly hurt.

Pansy watches as you flop on her bed and continue to ramble about the weird conversation with Theo. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

You shoot up. “What?”

She gives you an unamused look. “Yes, Theo fucks around. But who doesn’t? And he’s the nicest about it. He doesn’t give any false pretenses.” You frown as you cross your arms. “He’s never dated anyone, you know? He doesn’t like the idea of falling for someone. And he’s never lied to girls about that. Besides he’s liked the same girl since first year. He’s quite attached to her, though he’s probably never going to admit it.”

You sit up a little straighter, waiting for her to continue. “Theo… Theo’s been through a lot. He needs someone who will listen to him, really listen to him, because it’s rare he talks about his feelings at all.”

“Why don’t you date him then, if you know him so well?” She rolls her eyes and gives you that same blank stare.

“Like I said. He’s down bad for a girl he’s barely spoken to but watches almost every second of every day. And I like girls.” You smile a little at her though you do have an odd clench in your chest as you look down at your hands. “Are you seriously that oblivious?” You snap your eyes back up to hers.

“What?”

“Theo has liked you since first year, you idiot! And the one time I finally got him to talk to you, you tell him you think he’s an unemotional ass?” You are taken aback by Pansy’s snapping, yet find yourself thinking about the times you’ve caught him staring. Normally it’s with Pansy and you’ve always just assumed he was annoyed at her for being friends with you, but the more you think about it, you remember how it’s always happened. Even before you and Pansy were friends.

“Oh.”

Pansy rolls her eyes again. “Yeah. Oh.”

The next day you find yourself sitting next to Pansy taking the test you’d been cramming for all week with Theo. Midway through your hand is in your hair and you find yourself drifting off in your mind. It’s only when your eyes land on Theo do you remember how little time you have, and look back down at your paper.

A few times, you find yourself glancing up at Theo. Trying to remember the numerous questions he asked you and the answers you said in order to earn his soft smiles. At one point he looked over just as you did, and caught you staring. His brows knit together for a moment, and he glanced at the quill twirling in your hand. He gave you a small nod before looking down at his own test again, and you allowed yourself to do the same.

The next day when Snape handed back your papers you were shocked to find an E at the top of your paper. Exceeds Expectations.

You’d never gotten more than a Poor, or the one or two Acceptables. You stare at the paper and Pansy elbows you, finally drawing you out of your head. She nods at your paper and then toward the other side of the room where Theo was standing up and getting ready to leave. “Least you could do is say thank you,” she says before grabbing her own stuff and leaving.

Theo starts walking out alone seeing as Pansy had stolen Blaise and Mattheo hadn’t dawned the class with his presence that day. So you find yourself running after the tall boy alone in the corridor towards the slytherin dorms. “Nott!” He didn’t even flinch or acknowledge your presence so you call after him again. “Nott, come on!”

Finally you stop running and let out a breath. “Theo, please, just a minute?” This time he pauses and turns to face you.

“Will you stop yelling obnoxiously?” You smile a little and quickly walk up to him.

“Yes, in fact, I will.” You hold out the test for him, and he stares at you for a moment longer before taking it and assessing it. You see the small smile dawn his features and can’t help but smile a little wider as he tries to hide it. “I just wanted to thank you. For spending that time with me.”

“And being your good luck charm?” He looks back up at you and holds out the paper for you to take back. You do, but take a step closer to him as well.

“Yes, that too.” You chew on your lip for a moment before clearing your throat. “And I also need to apologize. I didn’t mean to make you upset the other day. I didn’t realize how bias I sounded until afterwards.” He clears his throat and looks anywhere but at you.

“Pansy talk to you?” You nod a little.

“Yes. But I’m glad she did.” He glances at you but doesn’t seem convinced. “And what Snape started talking about today already has me lost, so maybe you’d consider helping me again?”

His confusion is evident. “You want me to help you?” You nod a little and tilt your head.

“Does being alone with me sound that bad?” His jaw works for a moment, but you swear a small smile appears for a moment. “I’d like to spend some more time with you, if you’d like.”

“Careful, Y/L/N, it almost sounds like you want to hangout with a slytherin. And a fuck boy one at that.” You smile a little more and nod.

“When has that stopped me before? Enzo is much worse than you.” Theo smiles a little more again, and this time lets you see it.

“I’ll see you at the Black Lake tomorrow, the same time as usual.” You raise an eyebrow.

“The Black Lake?” Theo just nods and starts backing away.

“Yes, the library’s a bit stuffy. I’d never take someone I like there.” You can’t hide your surprise and Theo just waves you off. “Don’t act like I just proposed.” You laugh a little and shrug.

“Not yet but give me another week and I’ll have you on your knee.” Theo’s eyebrows raise and he smirks.

“We’ll see about that, love.”

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Fight for me 🍒

pairing: Joel miller x f! reader

warning : NSFW, 18+

summary: After Y/N confronts Joel about her unresolved feelings and receives a crushing rejection, she goes on patrol for weeks leaving Joel to grapple with his guilt and a looming realization that he might lose her forever.

It had been a long day in Jackson, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the town square in a soft orange glow, Y/N stood waiting. She had finally worked up the courage to confront Joel really confront him. They’d been dancing around their feelings for weeks, their stolen glances and the subtle touches that lingered longer than necessary. But Y/N was tired of the waiting, the mixed signals. She needed to know where they stood, even if it meant risking her heart.

Joel approached her cautiously, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his worn jacket. He looked tired, the weight of the world always seemed to rest on his broad shoulders, and today was no different. His brow furrowed slightly when he saw her, his gaze scanning her face as though he already knew what this conversation would be about.

“Y/N,” he greeted her quietly, but she didn’t waste time with pleasantries. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her pulse quickening as she took a step closer to him.

“I need to talk to you, Joel,” she said, her voice firm but soft, vulnerability shining in her eyes.

Joel swallowed hard, already sensing the tension in the air. “I know. I reckon I do too.”

There was a beat of silence between them, the distant sounds of the town fading into the background as the moment grew heavier. Y/N gathered her courage, her hands clenching into fists at her sides to keep from shaking.

“I have feelings for you,” she finally blurted out, her voice trembling slightly but steady enough to get the words out. She watched Joel’s face as her confession sank in, but he didn’t look surprised. His expression didn’t change much at all.

“I care about you, Joel,” she continued, taking a small step toward him. “More than I should. More than I’ve wanted to admit for a long time.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with something regret, sadness, fear but he remained still, like a stone. He didn’t speak, so she kept going, desperate for some kind of response.

“And I know you feel something too. I know you, Joel. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching, the way you always pull away before we can get too close.” Her voice wavered, but she held herself together. “But I can’t keep pretending like it doesn’t mean anything. Not anymore.”

There was a long, suffocating pause before Joel finally spoke, his voice low and gruff. “You can’t have feelings for me, Y/N.”

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. She had braced herself for rejection, but hearing it out loud still cut deep.

“Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why can’t I?”

Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes dropping to the ground as he tried to find the words. His fists were clenched in his pockets, his whole body tense with the effort of holding back what he really wanted to say.

“Because I ain’t good for you,” he muttered, his voice rough with the weight of years of guilt and loss. “You deserve better than what I got to give.”

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she refused to back down. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Joel.”

His eyes shot up to meet hers, dark and conflicted. “Yes, I do. I can’t, I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” she pressed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why won’t you let yourself feel something? Why won’t you fight for me?”

Joel took a step back, shaking his head. “Because I can’t, Y/N. You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand!” she pleaded, stepping closer to him. “Tell me why you keep pushing me away when I know you feel the same!”

His eyes glistened with something unreadable as he stared at her, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might actually break, that he might finally open up and tell her the truth.

But instead, Joel’s face hardened, and he took another step back, his hands trembling as he pulled them from his pockets. “I’m broken, Y/N. I’m not the man you think I am. I’ve lost too much. I can’t lose again.”

His words stung, the rawness in his voice slicing through her, but Y/N wasn’t giving up not yet. “You don’t have to lose anything. I’m right here, Joel. All I’m asking is for you to take a chance. Just… fight for me.”

Joel’s face twisted with pain, and for a fleeting second, she saw the cracks in his armor, saw how badly he wanted to take her hand, pull her close, and never let her go. But then, like a switch, the walls came back up, and his expression turned cold.

“I can’t,” he whispered, the finality in his voice breaking her heart. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her vision blurring with unshed tears as she watched him turn his back on her, walking away without looking back. He left her standing there, alone in the center of the town square, her chest aching as she watched him disappear into the crowd.

She had laid her heart bare, and he had walked away.

Days passed after that moment. Joel avoided her, throwing himself into work, doing everything he could to keep his mind off the mess he’d made. But the gnawing guilt, the anger at himself, wouldn’t go away. He’d see her around town talking to people, carrying supplies and each time, the knot in his stomach tightened. He had been so stupid. She was everything, and he’d pushed her away, too scared to even try.

Joel was a man who built walls high enough to keep anyone from getting too close, and lately, he'd found himself battling his emotions more than ever. For weeks, Joel had been caught in a constant struggle with himself, feelings of guilt and shame pulling him in opposite directions as his attraction toward Y/N grew stronger.

She was everything he hadn’t allowed himself to want in a long time kind, sharp-witted, and brave. She brought light to the dark corners of Jackson, a beacon in a place where hope was scarce. Joel had spent countless nights alone, staring at the ceiling in his small cabin, wrestling with his thoughts, questioning whether he deserved to feel something for her. Sarah, the loss, the years spent surviving rather than living it all weighed heavy on his soul. How could he possibly think about moving forward? How could he let someone in again?

His frustrations with himself only made things worse. He’d been distant, cold, pushing Y/N away every time she tried to get closer. It wasn’t fair to her. But Joel was too damn scared to let himself care. It was easier to stay in his misery than risk feeling that pain again.

“Joel, you can’t keep doing this,” Tommy had told him more than once, his brother sensing the turmoil simmering beneath the surface. But Joel always brushed him off, muttering excuses about keeping things professional or how he didn’t need more complications in his life. Yet, no matter how much distance he put between them, he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to Y/N.

Then today, it was worse. Y/N had gone out on patrol.

Jackson’s patrols were routine by now, but they weren’t without their risks. Joel usually joined them, but this time he’d opted out, knowing she’d be out there. He thought it would help to put some distance between them, maybe clear his head. Instead, it only made the gnawing ache in his chest worse. The hours dragged on, each passing minute fueling his restless energy. Joel couldn’t sit still. He was on edge, pacing his cabin, berating himself for how he’d treated her. All he could think about was her smile, how she used to lean against his shoulder after a long day. How he’d shrugged her off the last time she tried to talk to him.

“Damn it, Joel. What the hell is wrong with you?”

His mind raced with the guilt of pushing her away. Y/N was out there, doing her job, and all he could think about was how he’d been too much of a coward to let her in. He grabbed his jacket, ran his hands through his hair, then stopped in his tracks. She deserved better than what he had to offer. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

But a sudden, gut-wrenching feeling pulled at him a fear he couldn’t shake. Something wasn’t right.

His boots thudded against the wooden floor as he headed for the door, an anxious knot tightening in his chest. He made his way toward the gates of Jackson, as if his feet had taken over, instinct pulling him there without thought. His hands were shaking, and he shoved them into his pockets to hide it. “She’s fine. She’ll be fine.”

But the moment he saw the group returning through the gates, the world around him seemed to stop. He spotted her instantly, Y/N walking, limping slightly, with blood streaking down her arm and a nasty cut along her forehead. His heart lurched into his throat.

“Y/N!” Joel’s voice cracked as he pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the questioning stares. Panic surged through him as he reached her, his eyes wild with concern.

Y/N’s gaze met his, her eyes tired but still as strong as ever. “Joel—”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?” His voice was thick with worry, his hands already hovering over her injuries, unsure of where to start. He could see the blood seeping through her clothes, her shirt torn and stained. “Jesus, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she tried to assure him, but Joel’s jaw tightened.

His hands, rough and calloused, gently cupped her face as his eyes frantically scanned over her wounds. She winced slightly at the touch, but her lips twitched into a small, reassuring smile.

“Joel, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine,” he snapped, his voice low and strained, filled with guilt. “I shouldn’t have let you go out there. I—”

“It’s my job,” Y/N interrupted softly, her hand reaching up to grip his wrist. “I’m okay, really.”

But Joel wasn’t hearing it. The panic, the fear that had consumed him the moment he saw her hurt, was too much. His chest felt tight, and the world around him blurred. He had pushed her away for weeks, told himself it was for the best, and now seeing her like this, it was like a punch to the gut. “He had fucked it up.” He couldn’t lose her, not after everything.

“Don’t..don’t do that,” he muttered, shaking his head as he pulled her closer. “Don’t pretend like this is nothing. It ain’t nothing to me.”

His confession hung in the air, heavy with emotion. Y/N blinked, her brows furrowing as she searched his face.

“Joel, what are you?”

“I’ve been a damn fool,” he admitted, his voice rough and broken. “I’ve been pushing you away, and I don’t even know why anymore. I thought I couldn’t thought I wasn’t allowed to feel this way again. But I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. She had always known there was something more beneath his gruff exterior, but hearing it like this… she hadn’t expected it.

“You won’t lose me,” Y/N whispered, her hand moving to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath her palm. “Joel, I’m here. I’m right here.”

He exhaled shakily, his forehead resting against hers as the weight of his fear and guilt crashed over him. His fingers gently traced the edge of the cut on her forehead, and for the first time in a long time, Joel allowed himself to feel to really feel what had been building inside him for so long.

“I should’ve told you,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “I should’ve been honest. I’m sorry.”

Y/N leaned into him, her lips brushing against his cheek in a gesture of comfort. “It’s okay, Joel. We’ll figure it out.”

And for the first time in weeks, Joel believed her. He hadn’t lost everything he hadn’t lost her.

Y/N gazed up at Joel, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the raw emotion etched into his handsome features. His hands trembled slightly as they cupped her face, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. The air between them crackled with a tension that had been building for weeks, the unspoken feelings and longing finally boiling to the surface.

Joel's eyes searched hers intensely, the blue depths swirling with a maelstrom of emotions fear, guilt, regret, and something else, something that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. His voice was low and rough when he spoke, each word laden with meaning.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Joel murmured, his forehead resting against hers as he struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, for not being able to see what was right in front of me. I was a damn fool."

Y/N's heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in his voice, her hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt. "Joel, you don't have to apologize," she breathed, her lips brushing against his jawline. "I understand. I do."

"No, you don't," he insisted, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. "I've been so caught up in my own head, in my own pain, that I couldn't see how much you've come to mean to me. I couldn't let myself feel it."

Y/N's brows furrowed, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "Joel, I'm not going anywhere," she whispered fiercely. "No matter what happens, I'm here. I'll always be here."

Something shifted in Joel's expression, a flicker of determination hardening his jaw. "I don't want you to go anywhere," he growled, his hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her flush against him. "I want you here, with me. Always."

Joel Miller cooked a romantic dinner for Y/N, complete with candles, soft music, and a delicious meal. After dinner, he walked her to her door, his hand warm and strong in hers.

As they reached the doorway, Joel turned to Y/N, his blue eyes filled with tenderness. "I had a really nice time tonight," he murmured, squeezing her hand. "Dinner was perfect."

Y/N gazed up at him, a soft smile on her lips. "It was lovely," she agreed, squeezing his hand back. "Thank you for cooking for me, Joel. It means a lot."

Joel brushed a stray curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "Anything for you, angel," he said softly. "I'd do anything to make you happy."

Y/N's heart fluttered in her chest at his words. She could feel the love and devotion radiating off him, and it made her feel cherished and adored. "I'm so glad we found each other," she whispered, leaning into his touch. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Joel's hand slid down to cup her chin, tilting her face up to his. "You'll never have to find out," he promised, his voice low and intense. "I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I'm yours, always and forever."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Joel's head dipped down, his lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with all the love and passion in her heart.

The night air was cool as Y/N and Joel strolled back to her place, hands lightly brushing against each other, fingers occasionally intertwining. It was a comfortable silence between them, the kind that spoke volumes about their connection. Joel's heart was racing, knowing that he was about to spend the night with this captivating woman. Her green eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and her freckles, dusted across her cheeks, seemed to dance as she smiled at him.

As they reached her doorstep, Y/N turned, facing Joel, her expression a mix of desire and shyness. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, Joel. Goodnight."

Joel's throat went dry. He wanted to say something, something meaningful, but all he managed was a hoarse, "Goodnight, Y/N."

He turned to leave, his footsteps echoing on the pavement. But something pulled him back, an irresistible urge to see her again, to feel her warmth. He hesitated, then, in a swift motion, turned on his heels and headed back towards her house.

Just as he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open, and Y/N stood there, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Without a word, she grabbed the front of Joel's shirt, pulling him inside with a force that surprised him. The door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing through the quiet house.

"Thought you'd leave without saying goodbye, huh?" Y/N teased, her voice low and sultry.

Joel, caught off guard by her sudden aggression, found himself pressed against the closed door, Y/N's body flush against his. He could feel her breath on his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "I... I couldn't leave without seeing you again," he managed to whisper.

"Good," she purred, her hands now roaming freely over his chest, making his heart pound even harder. "Because I've been thinking about this all night. About how good it would feel to have you inside me."

Joel's breath caught in his throat as her words, laced with raw desire, washed over him. He felt his control slipping away, replaced by a primal urge to possess her, to brand her as his.

Y/N's hands found the buttons of his shirt, deftly undoing them one by one, her touch sending sparks of pleasure through his body. As the fabric fell away, she traced her fingers along his chest, her nails lightly scraping his skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "I want to taste every inch of you."

With that, she dropped to her knees, her hands working at his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle, driven by her eagerness. Joel groaned, his hands threading through her hair, the soft strands slipping between his fingers. He felt exposed and vulnerable, yet utterly consumed by desire.

Y/N's lips found the tip of his erection, now freed from the confines of his pants, and she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head, tasting him, memorizing every inch. Her hands cupped his balls, gently massaging them as she took him deeper, her throat working to accommodate his length.

"Fuck, Y/N," Joel gasped, his head thrown back, his body arching towards her. "You're incredible."

She pulled back, a satisfied smile on her face, a glistening strand of saliva connecting her lips to the head of his cock. "I aim to please," she whispered, before taking him into her mouth again, this time with more urgency.

Joel's hands tightened in her hair, his hips thrusting gently, encouraging her actions. He could feel the pressure building, his breath coming in short gasps, his body on the brink of something explosive.

"Wait," he managed to say, his voice hoarse with need. "I want you, all of you."

Y/N rose, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She kicked off her shoes and swiftly undressed, revealing her slender body, her breasts full and pert, her nipples hard with desire. She wore nothing but a smile and a small silver chain around her waist, drawing Joel's eyes to the glistening wetness between her thighs.

Joel kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his pants, his eyes never leaving her. He was hard, aching with need, his cock standing proudly, twitching with anticipation.

Y/N backed towards the nearby couch, her movements graceful, like a feline stalking its prey. She sat on the edge, spreading her legs, inviting him with her eyes. Joel needed no further encouragement. He moved between her thighs, positioning himself at her entrance, feeling her heat enveloping him.

With one smooth thrust, he filled her, their bodies becoming one. Y/N's eyes widened, a soft moan escaping her lips as she adjusted to his size. Joel paused, giving her a moment to acclimate to his presence, his hands gripping her thighs, feeling the softness of her skin.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "So tight and warm."

"More," she breathed, her hands pulling him closer, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, Joel, more."

Joel began to move, his hips thrusting slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, each stroke pushing deeper, eliciting moans and gasps from Y/N. Her fingers dug into his back, leaving marks that would remind them of this moment.

"You're so beautiful," he groaned, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, her hair tousled, her freckles more pronounced as her passion rose. "Your freckles are perfect, like stars in the night sky."

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze, and she smiled, a smile that reached her eyes, making his heart skip a beat. "I love the way you look at me," she whispered, her voice breathless.

Joel's movements became more frantic, his body building towards an inevitable climax. He felt Y/N's walls clenching around him, her body responding to his, their connection deepening with every thrust.

"I'm close," she panted, her nails scraping his back, marking him as her own. "Oh God, Joel, I'm so close."

Joel's body was on fire, his senses alive with the feel and taste of Y/N. He thrust harder, faster, wanting to give her everything, wanting to see her fly apart in his arms.

"You're so tight around me," he grunted, his voice raw with desire. "I'm gonna cum, Y/N. I'm gonna fill you up."

Y/N's eyes widened, her body tensing, and then she was crying out, her climax crashing over her, her walls rippling around him, milking him as she rode out her orgasm. Joel followed, his own release overwhelming him, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself deep inside her, filling her with his essence.

They collapsed, a tangle of limbs, onto the couch, their hearts pounding, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Joel held Y/N close, his hands stroking her back, feeling the rise and fall of her chest as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"You're incredible," he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. "I've never felt anything like that."

Y/N smiled, a satisfied, post-coital glow on her face. "You're pretty amazing yourself, Joel Miller," she purred, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "And you taste like cherries, did you know that?"

Joel laughed, a deep, contented sound, and pulled her closer, burying his face in her sweet-smelling hair. "I think I'm gonna need a lot more of your special flavor, Y/N. I'm not sure I can ever get enough."

They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, their bodies still buzzing with the aftermath of their passionate encounter, both knowing that this was just beginning of their story.

[suempu]

Hi!! First of all absolutely love your writting <3 Can I ask for Chilchuck x fem tall Human reader when they both get drunk together for the first time and things get handsy, If you could do nsfw headcanons it would be perfect, thanks a lot!! :D

thank you so much for the kind words, i really appreciate all the support :’D!!!

unestablished relationship + tw: alcohol

<3

it was a few days after laios’ formal coronation, and the party decided to have a casual celebration in one of the palace’s common rooms.

there must be something special in the way they brew royal wine since even chilchuck, the experienced alcoholic, had already been wasted from the 3rd bottle.

your friends was scattered all around, with senshi dozing off on a chair, laios falling into a food coma, marcille and falin mumbling dazily among themselves.

in the far corner, you and chilchuck were drunkenly snickering to yourselves. everything was so groggy and warm, you couldn’t help but laugh and peck his forehead while he was showing you the different bottles and labels.

“you’re so cute. i don’t think i’ve ever told you that.” giggling, you smother him in hugs.

he grumbles, trying to shake off your hold, “stop treating me like i’m a kid!”

“so cute and handsome… always so good with your hands…” you mumble, not hearing a word he’s said as you rub your cheeks together.

chilchuck stops for a moment after that, and he thinks he might’ve sobered up before he starts mouthing your face in a daze. pressing his lips against your soft skin, mindlessly nosing into you with half lidded eyes and flushed cheeks.

you both look crazy right now, warm air and fuzzy tension as you snort at his silent nuzzling, the blush on your cheeks only getting redder.

“i think… you’re pretty… uh, cute too.” he murmurs, making you gasp dramatically. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squealed, “stop, you’re gonna make me fall in love.”

chilchuck snickers, not at all minding how he’s nestled on your chest. in a bold act under the alcohol’s influence, he snickers before leaning up to your head, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

“what if i did this?” another peck, “or this?” another smooch, “in love with me yet?” he teases.

the situation escalated pretty quickly once you decided that it was a competition. simple kisses turned into a full blown makeout session.

you both were riding the highs of doing such a lewd act while your friends were in the room, although passed out.

chilchuck had his knees up on the sofa, hands resting on your hips and waist as yours were on his hair and shoulders.

occasionally, you’d lean away breathless and panting for air while chuckling to each other, not thinking of the consequences that will come in the morning.

chilchuck kisses lazily, fingers trailing all over your body, from your sides to your stomach, and even cheekily poking and prodding near your chest.

meanwhile your hands were busy tugging at his hair and messing it up, your other one busying themselves with running up and down his abdomen, making him shiver and groan into your mouth.

no hickeys were formed though, he only sucked and nipped at your shoulder and neck but it wasn’t enough to leave a mark.

hours later the party woke up to half of your body hanging off the sofa while chilchuck’s face was hidden in your stomach, hugging your waist and cuddling you.

the whole morning was spent ignoring their constant teasing.

[mysumeow]

ᯓ★ KINKTOBER DAY 2: 69 POSITION

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Afab body reader, referred to with you/your. Fingering, oral sex (giving and receiving), overstimulation (receiving). Not proofread.

ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: You call Lilia senile. He proceeds to demonstrate that he's, in fact, not.

ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: I think peepaw still got that dawg in him.

🎃 . . . KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“I wonder what you were like when you were a general.”

That piqued Lilia’s interest.

“When I was a general? Why the sudden curiosity?”

“Nothing much. I was wondering if what I’ve heard about your time as a general was true.”

The amused smile didn’t disappear as he approached you. “And what have you heard?”

“That you were intimidating, crass, fearsome, and strict. Many of the soldiers you battled against were terrified of fighting you,” you recalled what you’ve heard from different sources. “But I can’t imagine you being all those things.”

“It’s all in the past now. I’ve long since decided to let go of such an uncordial image,” he inched closer to you and placed a hand next to yours, leaning in. “However, do not allow yourself to be fooled. I still retain a good amount of strength, and I haven’t forgotten how to fight.”

“Mhm, yeah, right. You’re 700 years old, Lilia. I bet your knees hurt whenever you do a bit more exercise than usual,” In reality, you just wanted to push his buttons and see how far you could poke fun at him. All in good faith, of course. “Or that you run out of breath just walking upstairs.”

“Hehe, be careful of what you’re trying to play,” his amused smile turned into a self-assured one. “I’m still capable of wearing you out if I want to.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re usually so nice to me.”

“So, you want me to be rougher, too?”

“If it’s not too much for your senile body,” you sneered.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he shrugged. Lilia lied on his bed and beckoned you to get closer with his finger. “Come on now, lovely. Get on top of me.”

Soon you understood what position he wanted you to be in.

“In-In that position?” This was a first. Even though it wasn’t the first time you two would go down on each other, this specific position was a new one. For some reason, it felt even more intimate. “Okay…”

He wanted to do it in a 69 position.

You unbuckled his belt and pulled the zipper down to start. You were confident about being able to make him finish before you, given that you were familiar with his anatomy already. Although he could say the same the other way around…

You held his dick with both of your hands and didn’t waste time engulfing the head with your mouth. You stroked him and suckled him, doing it how you knew he liked it the most—it got erect within a minute. No surprise there, so you kept going at your leisure.

Lilia, however, had other plans. You did take notice of him pushing your underwear to the side and a hand parting one of your thighs. What took you by surprise was how fast he went from the get-go. His other hand was placed on your back so you would arch it more, making it easier for him to access your clit with his mouth. He sucked it with loud slurps to then circle and flick it with his tongue.

“Lilia!” you jolted; your movements wavered for a second.

“Mm?” he hummed while still eating you out. His tongue left your clit for a moment to thrust it into your pussy; the hand that was gripping your thigh left it in favor of fingering you.

The words died in your throat, but you didn’t give up yet. You carried on with what you were doing, moving your head up and down on his length. It was difficult to concentrate. The constant onslaught that he delivered into your sensitive pussy was steady, decided. It was as if your own ministrations on him didn’t affect him from how fixated he was with making you cum first.

The way he was eating you out was downright messy and vigorous, to the point you couldn’t connect your brain to your hands to stroke him. It was made mush, you’re your nerves going haywire, and you were left to whine.

“Keep going… I’m close…” you said between heaved breaths.

“That fast? And here I thought you had more vitality in you.” He teased.

With a new resolve, you forced yourself to coordinate your hands back on his length, your mouth returned to position, and you took him until the head touched the back of your throat. You sensed the pleasure about to snap, and you tried to pull away from his cock—only for Lilia to place his calf over your head to keep you in place. Your moans were muffled, as your mouth was stuffed with his dick. Despite the sudden movement, you came hard around his fingers.

You hear Lilia’s pleasured voice and feel the warm sensation of his cum spilling down your throat soon after.

Your and Lilia’s chest went up and down rapidly, recuperating from the sex. However, he was faster to gain his composure back, and you feel the bed shift with his movements.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured against your neck, a hand caressing your clit. You jolted from the strange mix of pleasure and pain, your nub tender after the orgasm.

“Lilia—” you groaned and tried to trap his hands with your thighs.

“Giving up already?” he grabbed your shoulder to turn you around.

In spite of the ache blossoming from between your legs, you shook your head. “I’m just... you know. Sensitive,”

“That’s the reason why I’m doing it,” he drank up your soft whimpers with his lips, his fingers not stopping for even a second. Those lithe fingers rubbed your clit in circles, then from side to side, and back to in circles. The pain subsided and gave way to pleasure; you found yourself moaning against the sheets and canting your hips closer to him.

“Wha..!” you gasped when Lilia suddenly gave a gentle slap against your pussy.

“You didn’t think I’d let you off that soon, right? After what you said to me,” Lilia said with a kittenish tone, finding fun in the situation. “You did ask me to be rougher. Who am I to deny you such pleasures?”

The sound his palm made when it smacked against you pulled another gasp, your train of thought lost. He repeated the action a couple of times with varying intensity, without forgetting about your comfort.

“You keep squirming and squealing when I do this, yet—” the wet sounds coming from your cunt further proved the words he then spoke. “You’re soaked. My fingers are slippery from your juices.”

Judging by Lilia’s cutesy face, one would think his hands are small and soft. That’d be a wrong infer. They were calloused and rough, and even if they weren’t the biggest, he was rather skilled when using them. Hot, dripping with your release, he used them to slide a finger inside, the heel of his hand stroked your nub.

Without stopping to think about it much, your hand instinctively found purchase by grabbing Lilia by his arm and dug your nails into him when your second climax snapped.

“You look so cute like this,” Lilia giggled, easing your release by slowing down little by little. “I could gobble you up right now. Think you can handle another round?”