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#i’m starting a requests tag so i can reference it
dancingbirdie · 7 months
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Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺
Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo
Something Imagined / Something Real
Word Count: 3.9K
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav
Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst
Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA
Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.
The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 
“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 
Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”
“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 
“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 
But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 
“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 
Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 
“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 
“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 
Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.
“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 
“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 
“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”
Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.
After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 
It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 
Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.
“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 
The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”
“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 
“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 
Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.
“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 
“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 
Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 
As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 
Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.
Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 
He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 
That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 
Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 
The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 
Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 
But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?
She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.
It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.
So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 
“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”
Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 
“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.
“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 
Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 
“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.
Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.
But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.
Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.
“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 
“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”
Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 
The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 
Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 
Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?
“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 
“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”
“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 
“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 
“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”
Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.
But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 
***
He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 
Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 
“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 
The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 
“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 
Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 
“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.
“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 
Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 
“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.
“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.
“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 
Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 
Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 
Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.
“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”
Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.
“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”
She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 
“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.
“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”
“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”
Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.
“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 
Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 
“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”
She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 
“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 
Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 
“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”
She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 
But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 
“Why?” he asked quietly.
She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 
“Why what?”
“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 
Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”
Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 
“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 
Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 
“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 
“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 
She held his gaze, speechless. 
“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”
Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 
“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 
“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.
Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 
“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”
“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.
“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.
“Could I hug you?” she whispered.
The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 
Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.
Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 
Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   
She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 
“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 
He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 
It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 
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can you do a Tom Blyth x reader fic wherein they're doing a wired autocomplete interview?
Answering the Web’s Most Searched Questions || Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader
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A/n: this was so much fun to make! I apologies for this taking a bit to make hahahaha. Keep the Tom Blyth x reader requests coming 🙏
Warnings: nothing but reader n tom being such a wholesome couple
Wc:
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Divider by @pommecita
“Hi I’m Tom Blyth!” You smile at the camera. “And I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom waves to the camera as you both hold in your laughter but fail miserably. “And this is the wired autocomplete interview,” Tom clicks his tongue pointing to the camera.
“Who should go first?” You look to Tom as you see a glint of mischief in his eyes, “let’s paper scissor rock it?” He asks as you turn your body slightly to him. The next sped up montage was of the two of you playing paper scissors rock and not surprise that you won earning a groan from Tom as you are passed your board.
“Okay first one, who is y/n y/l/n……. dating?” You read it as you and Tom chuckle. “Who are you dating, Y/n?” Tom jokes as he looks at you quizzically. “It’s actually a secret,” You shrug, “Do I know this person?” Tom continues, “Yes actually, you are very familiar with this person,”
“Hmm, interesting,” Your boyfriend pretended to think about it as you wink to the camera, discreetly pointing to Tom beside you. “Moving on, Does Y/n Y/l/n have…… a pet?” “Yes I do actually, his name is tchai and he’s a spoodle. I bring him to set all the time and he just comes along and chills with us.” You say as an instagram post of yours pops up on the screen.
y/n_y/l/n
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Liked by tomblyth, hunterschaffer, rachelzegler, and 3,837,202 others
My boys 💗
tagged: @tomblyth
“Next one, can y/n y/l/n….. sing and act?” You laugh at this one as Tom does the same, leaning his head against yours. “Unfortunately I cannot sing and act. That’s not me in the tbosas film, that’s actually my stunt double that looks identical to me and it’s actually Tom that sings all of the songs” You give a thumbs up as Tom and the crew start laughing.
“Does y/n y/l/n have any tattoos? Yes! I actually have a matching tattoo with my boyfriend, it’s on my pinky and it’s half of a heart and he has the other half.” You put your hand up and point to it as Tom quickly puts his beside your pinky, his other half connecting with yours.
“Oh my god, Tom has the exact same one. What a coincidence!” You giggle, “Such a coincidence right?” He shakes his head. “What does….. y/n y/l/n look like? Well if you guys didn’t know, I look like this” You point to yourself as Tom places his palm under your chin with a grin.
“What was y/n y/l/n’s…… first acting role? My first acting role was in Billy the Kid that came out in 2022 and Tom here is actually plays the main character Billy.” You nudge his arm as he gives a thumbs up, “And I play Dulcinea which is Billy’s lover at one point.“ You answer before you start to peel off the last one.
“Does y/n y/l/n have… a child?!” Your jaw drops open as Tom laughs out loud. “Do I have a child? No! I’m still very young but I do plan on having children in the future. I do have a younger sister who is 4 so I think people mistake her for my daughter,” You let out a chuckle.
“Grace does very much look like you I do have to say,” Tom points out as you nod in agreement. “Yeah I have to agree with that aswell, probably why people think she is my daughter. Especially when Tom and I are taking care of her for a day, people always say what a lovely family we look,” You giggle.
~
“Finally my turn,” Tom says in excitement as he’s handed his board. “First one, How….. tall is Tom Blyth? That’s actually a good question uh-“ “For reference, I’m 5’3,” You say as Tom stands up pulling you with him. “There’s quite a height difference,” You laugh as you look up at him.
“I think I’d say around 6ft? Yeah, I’m pretty sure because Hunter is 5’10 and I’m abit taller than her. So yeah, 6ft.” “Next one, What is Tom Blyth’s…. Hidden talent?” Your eyes lock with Tom’s, “It’s not a hidden talent, but I am quite a good whistler.” “Yes! Tom is so good at it,” You nudge him, “Don’t make me do it,” He smiles, biting his lip as you give him a look.
“Do it!” “Okay, fine,” Tom then does the hunger games whistle, three fingers in the air as you watch in amazement. “I was really nervous then,” He chuckles as you laugh to yourself, agreeing.
“Does Tom Blyth…. Have a girlfriend? He says slyly as you look at the camera, “No. I do not have a girlfriend,” Hearing his words, you look at him and find him nodding his head as he says it which makes you smile at his silliness. “What a shame,” You pat his shoulder jokingly as he shakes his head, laughing.
“Lucky last, Is Tom Bltyh… a father? seriously, what is up with these questions?” He says in slight disbelief. “Are you?” You tease him, “Like Y/n, I get mistaken as her little sister’s father but no. I have no children,” “Your children would be so good looking,” You point out before you could really process it in your head.
Tom looks at you in surprise but laughs, “You think?” He maintains eye contact with you as you nod, almost in a trance as you stare into his piercing blue eyes that you could stare in all day. “Hmm, that’s good to know you think that, babe” His pet name for you slips out as your eyes slightly widen.
Tom quickly changes the topic when he realises. “Well that’s it from us today,” He says in a happy tone, “Thank you for watching this video!” “bye!” You both say in sync as you both throw the boards at the camera before it cuts off.
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mclqren · 21 days
Text
SUCCESSFUL ★ MV33
PAIRING ✦ max verstappen x fem!singer!reader
SUMMARY ✦ between you winning an award in the grammys in february and him winning the first grand prix of the 2024 season, you and your boyfriend are proving to be very successful [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ my first max smau!! reader is implied to be american (refers to america as her home). as per request, the fc i've used is sabrina carpenter, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by maxverstappen1, oliviarodrigo, and 2,100,391 others
yourusername grammys tomorrow 😘
view all comments
user1 respectfully, she’s so fine
user2 FORGET MAX PLS COME HOME W ME
user3 I CAN TREAT YOU BETTER 🙏😔
user4 THE LAST SLIDE Y/N WHAT'S THE MATTER
yourusername these are tears of happiness trust me 💗
user5 OMG YOU GOT A REPLYYY SO LUCKY
maxverstappen1 so excited ❤️
yourusername yeah but i’m most excited so 🙄💗
user6 THEIR DYNAMIC HELLO??
user7 okay but MAX IS GOING W HER TO THE GRAMMYS??
user8 he usually does go w her to these events, like how she goes to his races!
oliviarodrigo BABY GIRLLL CANT WAIT 😉❤️
yourusername MY BABYY CANT WAIT TO HANG OUT TOMORROW 😘😘
yourusername
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( caption one: omw to the grammys!! (i swear i'm happy to be going my boyfriend is just pissing me off) | caption two: you'd think i wasn't even in the car with him 🙄 )
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yourusername guess who won her first grammyyy!!!!! thank you all so so much for ur endless support, im forever grateful! 😘❤️❤️
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user9 BEST GIRL WON A GRAMMYYYY
user10 I LOVE YOU Y/N
user11 wait what category did she win??
user12 best new artist!!
user13 SHE'S STUNNINGGG
user14 max is punching idc
maxverstappen1 so proud of you ❤️
yourusername love you maxie 💗
reneerapp CONGRATS ANGEL 💗💗
yourusername OMG I LOVE YOU!!
user15 oh to be y/n.
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yourusername who said i couldn't go to a beach in february?? 🤷‍♀️🏖️
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user20 HOW WERE YOU NOT FREEZING COLD
user21 she IS the moment!
user22 ur life seems so fun omg
user23 literallyyyy
user24 is she not in monaco w max rn??
user25 nooo!! she's staying in the usa for a bit while max goes to prepare for the start of the f1 season :)
reneerapp photo creds? ☹️
yourusername SORRY ANGEL yes photo creds to you!!
maxverstappen1 only you would go to a beach in february
yourusername awww are you missing me maxie 😘
charles_leclerc can confirm he is
maxverstappen1 charles you weren't meant to tell her ☹️
yourusername I'LL SEE YOU (BOTH) SOON TRUST
user26 what did y/n mean in her replies w 'see you (both) soon'??
user27 she always goes to the first gp of the season, so she probably means that!
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yourusername coming home's been a blast 🚀
user28 MY TWO FAVS HANGING OUTTT
user29 Y/N IN LA HOW DID I NOT KNOW THISSSS
user30 so are her and renee friends then?
user31 they're very good friends!! when y/n first joined the music industry, renee sort of took her under wing and they become super close! 💛
user32 this friendship is just everything to me
maxverstappen1 cant wait to see you❤️
yourusername likewise max emilian!! 💗
reneerapp I CANT BELIEVE UR GOING TO LEAVE ME
yourusername I'LL BE BACK YOU BEFORE YOU KNOW IT ☹️
yourusername
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( caption one: two flights and almost a day later and i’m finally here 🇺🇸➡️🇧🇭 | caption two: back in the garage 🏎️ )
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yourusername VAMOS MAX VAMOS 🏎️ (i'm so sorry i don't know any language other than spanish)
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user33 THE CAPTION??
user34 shes so funny stop
user35 Y/N IN BAHRAINNN WE LIKE TO SEE IT!!
user36 the last slide awww
user37 y/n's spirit animal
maxverstappen1 not dutch? ☹️
yourusername read the caption hon im so sorry 😘
carlossainz55 🇪🇸🇪🇸🇪🇸
yourusername SIIII
maxverstappen1 oh.
yourusername shh look away max ❤️
user38 HELP???
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maxverstappen1 unbelievable start to the year, 1-2 finish is absolutely fantastic 🏆👊
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user43 THE CHAMP IS BACK 🏆
user44 AND THE DUTCH NATIONAL ANTHEM PLAYS AGAINNN 🇳🇱
user45 RED BULL REMAINS SUPREMEEE
redbullracing Best start to the season! 👊❤️
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yourusername WOOHOOO THAT'S MY FUCKING CHAMPION!!
maxverstappen1 ❤️
yourusername RED BULL RAHHHHH
user46 HELP ME Y/N
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yourusername HE ONLY WENT AND DID ITTT!! congrats boyfriend, guess we're both starting this year off as winners ❤️
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user47 Y/N BEING SORT OF NICE IN THE CAPTION FOR ONCE?
user48 it usually depends on her mood ❤️
user49 'congrats boyfriend' HELP MEEE
user50 SHE'S SO FUNNY
user51 ugh i love you guys!!
maxverstappen1 love you ❤️
yourusername love you more!! 💗
maxverstappen1 the last slide 🤨🤨🤨
yourusername you can thank pinterest for that one 💗
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leighsartworks216 · 6 months
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Screaming crying crawling up the walls for your top tier Astarion content
Idk if you’ve seen this, it’s floating around the internet (I think it’s a tweet?) it says something like “I want someone to grab my face and say ON PURPOSE, I WILL CARE FOR YOU ON PURPOSE” and I’d love to see our love-deprived bi-centurion react to something like this.
Like maybe he’s caught feelings for tav and is starting to feel bad for manipulating them and starts self-sabotaging by saying/thinking stuff like ‘you only THINK you love me but it’s not real, I’m sorry I made you feel this way’ and tav getting v v serious and replying “I never loved you by accident”.
Him being confronted by the fact that things never would’ve gotten this far if they didn’t let it, if they didn’t choose him, that they’re still choosing him and that it has nothing to do with the act he put up or the situation he constructed, if they wanted nothing to do w him they could’ve and would’ve dipped.
Idk I’m just spitting ideas, have fun babe ✌🏻
- 🦇
I wrote this at 2am but I did proofread it (it's almost 4 now 💀)
Also the original tweet is by Jenny Slate (@/jennyslate) and says, "I just want someone to grab my little face and scream 'ON PURPOSE, ON PURPOSE I AM GOING TO CARE ABOUT YOU'"
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: self-doubt, references to manipulation, self-deprecation, references to dissociation, dissociation mention, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 1,392
Main Masterlist
Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
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It began one night, almost a week ago. Astarion had gotten into the routine of joining you in your bedroll after feeding, cuddling close and relaxing to the steady sound of your heartbeat. That night, a week ago, he didn’t. He delicately bit into your skin and pulled away before you were even slightly dizzy, murmured something about how you’d need your strength for a fight tomorrow, and slipped off to hunt for animals. Truly, you didn’t think anything of it, then. And maybe you got so lost, so caught up in your daily stress, that was why you didn’t register it for so long. Comments under his breath about manipulation immediately covered up with Gale requesting a magical artifact or Shadowheart and Lae’zel fighting.
So, a week went by. And the realization finally hit. Guilt ate away at your stomach, but wallowing wasn’t going to help. When night started to creep in, your companions slipping into their tents, you slipped into Astarion’s. Sitting in a pile of pillows, he looked up at you with a smirk and a ‘Hello, darling’, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were dark. Distant.
“I’m sorry I haven’t given you the attention you need,” you start. A baffled look flickers across his face, but it is not given the time to settle.
There is a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like it’s a strain for him to keep smirking. “It’s perfectly alright, darling. You’ve been busy running around camp, helping people - I understand.”
With any other person, this would have seemed a perfectly reasonable response. An apology accepted, a mutual understanding - the relationship goes on. Except, this was Astarion.
You sit down nearby, close enough to reach out and touch. Any closer and you worried you’d overcrowd him. You always tried to let him come to you first, though he usually struggled to initiate anything.
“You’ve been distant, too,” you point out. He begins to form the words to apologize, but you shake your head to stop him before they can build a sentence. “I’m not upset, I don’t need an apology. I just wanted to know why.”
To be honest, he didn’t expect you to notice. He assumed, quite stupidly, all things considered, that you would be too preoccupied to notice him slowly slipping away. Late night cuddles dashed for hunting, hand holding forgotten as he trails along at the back of the group, kisses never lingering and the ones that did lacking any emotion behind them.
“Is something wrong?” you prompt gently. “If it’s too much, we can work out what would be better for you.”
Guilt stabs at his own non-beating heart like a wooden stake. He’s drifting and you still throw him a rope, still ask for him to grab on and pull himself away from his past, from dissociating with the slightest hint of affection.
He smiles wryly. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he teases, but it comes out a little too strained to be a joke. His fingers fiddle with the corner of the page of his book. He finds watching the paper fold and bend is much more interesting than looking into your eyes.
He sighs. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he says, but the endearment feels like fire on his tongue, “but it’s not real. This isn’t real.” Your brow furrows as you stare at him. He can’t bear to see the realization cross your face. “Two hundred years of manipulating - of course I would trick you, too. It’s instinct, darling, I don’t blame you.” Red eyes finally meet yours. You look confused, of course, but there’s an air of determination, like you’re ready to fight whatever plagues him. “But this… love… it’s not real. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry I made you feel this way.”
He expects anger. He expects tears, even. Crying and shouting and ‘How could you?!’s and ‘I can’t believe you’ve manipulated me all this time!’ But it never comes. You frown, sure, but it’s leagues away from being angry.
“You think… you manipulated me into feeling this way?”
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Admitting it feels bitter. He blames it on his growing fondness for you, but he knows it cannot possibly be returned in any genuine way. Not with his underhanded tactics surfacing at every passing glance, soft brush, and gentle smile. “Come now, darling,” he smirks again, building a wall to separate himself from the shitshow that must be just ‘round the corner, “who could really love me?”
That only succeeds in making you frown further. “Astarion, I’m not with you because you’ve tricked me.” The baffled look from earlier surfaces again, but it lingers, mixed with doubt. “I understand that you started this to manipulate me into protecting you, but I’m not here because you successfully influenced my emotions - To be perfectly honest, I could tell from the start.”
He laughs dryly, suddenly, like it startles him. “And here I was thinking I’d learned some subtlety.”
You don’t laugh with him. You don’t even smile. “I chose you, Astarion. I still choose to be with you. Because I want to.”
Any lingering mask of confidence fell from his face. The creases around his mouth became more prominent as he frowned. His eyes darted around, glancing around your face for any tells of deception, any hint that you’re making this up to make him feel better. “How can you be sure? How do you know you’re choosing me and not just buying into another act?”
“Astarion.” You get on your knees and hold his face in your hands. He stares up at you with big, round eyes. “If I wanted to, I could break up with you. I am not staying because I feel stuck, or because I feel obligated to. I love you. On purpose. On purpose, I am staying with you. On purpose, I choose you.”
He opens his mouth, but no words form. His mind is reeling, chasing to catch up and process everything, all the while jumping and flipping, trying to find excuses or reasons why you shouldn’t care for him. He swallows the lump building in his throat. He speaks in a whisper, too stunned to speak louder. “Are you sure?”
Your whole face softens. Determination turns to fond affection, frown lifting into a soft grin. “Yes. I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his forehead, and he closes his eyes to savor it. It’s been a week without allowing himself your love - he deserves to enjoy it once again, even if he feels guilty for it. He wishes his thoughts would just shut up and let him have this. “If you still need space or time, I’ll be here. I’m not leaving. Just,” you pull his face back, “please talk to me about this next time. I know things have been hectic, but I’m never too busy for you.”
He sighs, slow and soft. Relieved. “Of course, my love.” He adores the way you smile brightly at the endearment. He turns sheepish. “Ah, could I, possibly, join you tonight? It does, admittedly, get rather lonely passing the time alone.”
You kiss his cheek. “Of course you can. C’mon, I’ll even play with your hair if you’d like.”
He chuckles, genuine this time. “I very much would.” His book is set aside, the page he left off on lost as he takes your hand and follows you from his tent. He can’t help himself from squeezing your hand in his, like he can’t quite grasp the fact you are physically holding onto him. Even when you lay down first and he settles in next to you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head on your chest, it still feels hard to believe. But the way you wrap your arms around him and gently detangle his curls and scratch lightly at his scalp cannot possibly be from his imagination. Nor the way you press kisses on his forehead and temple and hair with sweet praises and words of affection. His mind is not kind enough to imagine such tenderness.
Laying there in your arms, listening to the steady beat of your heart and even breaths that fill your lungs as you slip into sleep, is the closest he has ever been to true contentment.
---
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pigdemonart · 1 year
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Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)
When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]
These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.
More info under cut:
Edit: Important disclaimer:
These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍
Tags:
I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.
Height chart:
I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:
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Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)
Notes about each agent...
Cameron:
- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices.  - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too.  - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.
Cloud:
- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling.  - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace.  - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together!  - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.
Furze:
- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.
Isadore
- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao
Jackie
- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...
- Item #: SCP 7453
- Object Class: Euclid
- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.
Ramses
- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.
In-Game Quotes
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The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.
In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.
Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!
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Note
hello! i’m not sure if ur taking requests but maybe an astarion x bard! tav who is neutral good? ik in game he hates it when we’re nice, so i’m wondering how you think he’d handle a tav who is not only kind but also not really interested in sex
Oooh, I like this! Time to bring out the bitchy cat energy. Because he is a bitch. Lot of Act 1 in game references here btw. Sfw, but y'know, Astarion sad boy backstory is always looming. Also conveniently ignoring the canon fact that Astarion doesn't know how to swim because I can~~~
~
Astarion supposed he could have come across a worse rag-tag crew of undesirables to associate with. It was made clear, disturbingly quickly, that he wouldn't have made it out here on his own. Not with the goblins and cultists lurking around every corner. And a damn vampire hunter for gods' sake.
Astarion could have done much worse than this merry-band of weirdos. Like laying dead in a ditch for instance. That said, it didn't change the fact that he was quickly growing tired of their leader's antics.
You were just so annoying. So selfless, in one of the stupidest ways he had ever seen. For one thing, why one earth would you ever trust a gith or Shar priestess? Or a vampire spawn for that matter. How no one had stabbed you in the back yet was beyond him, considering how you gave them every opportunity to do so.
Not that Astarion would, or at least not yet. But he could. Easily, considering all the misguided trust you had put in him.
But despite your flaws, he had to admit that you were capable, that much was clear. You were strong, quick, witty, and not above deception to keep the peace. He.... liked that about you, in a way. The extent to how far you would go to save others. It was courageous, as well as incredibly stupid, but he could respect it.
Slightly.
it helped that you were a cute little thing, even with the aggravating sunshine personality. Cute enough for Astarion to start thinking of... certain options. You would be easy to manipulate, he was sure of that. Enough so where his life could become one of your top priorities. You already seemed to like him, without him turning on the charm. It would be so easy to get you wrapped around his finger, with nothing but a few shiny words and some pleasant bed-warming. Nothing that he hadn't done before. And if anything, your absurd levels of kindness could.... make everything a little more pleasant than what he was used to. Gods willing.
And tonight seemed as good a time as any, considering everyone was still on a high from being the tiefling's heroes. You were excitedly talking at him, adorable in a frankly infuriating way. Or maybe the wine was working on him more than he had anticipated, he wasn't quite sure. But... your smile seemed extra enchanting tonight.
Enough so for him to get to the point after you asked how he was feeling, "I'm just looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun."
You cocked your head at him, innocently confused as he continued, "You know, we could always make our own entertainment darling. Get a little closer, so to speak."
"Sure!" You said, jumping on the opportunity faster than even Astarion had expected, "Can we do it now?"
Astarion blinked, pleased if not a bit surprised. He's not wholly against giving the camp a show, though the children still lurking about definitely put a damper on things. But maybe if you went far enough away...
"And can I choose what we do?" You asked, a wide smile on your face.
Astarion laughed, delighted at just how easy this was going to be, "Depends on how adventurous you're planning on being."
He hadn't expected you to grab his hand, easily intertwining your fingers with a smile, "I can show you."
Astarion hadn't been prepared for the quick escalation of events, but he was happy to abide by it. He nodded his head, giving your hand a small squeeze before saying, "Then lead the way."
And lead the way you did, right to the Waypoint of the swamp. Not exactly the most romantic place to be having sex, but Astarion had done worse. That was until you conjured the dancing lights, the dreary darkness suddenly transforming what should have been a putrid bog into a dreamy landscape, filled with flowers and freshwater.
Astarion looked to you, eyes wide, "How...?"
"We purified it!" You announced with a massive grin, "We did it this morning, before the party. Halsin and the other druids came down, I amped up their magic with a fantastic song, and bam! No more stench of the hag. Isn't it pretty?"
That... sounded exactly like something you would do, sweet thing that you were. Astarion nodded as he looked around, a little touched that you brought him here at all.
But as nice as the gesture was, he wasn't here for strictly fun. He had a plan, one that you were doing a wonderful job of putting into motion. Considering how you were in the middle of pulling your shirt over your head.
You looked at him expectantly, laughing a little when he rushed to join you. But before he could get his underclothes off, you were stepping away from him and... jumping into the water?
Astarion stared as you sputtered up to the surface, wiping your face with a loud laugh, "My gods, it's cold!"
"What on earth are you doing?" He called out to you, cautiously walking towards the water, "Are you trying to freeze to death?"
"Oh, hush!" You said, waving your hand in the air with a splash, "If we can kill an entire goblin camp than we can handle some cold water. Now get in already!"
Had he mentioned that you were aggravating yet?
But he hadn't made it this far to back out now. Besides, this was far from being on the list of the worst seduction tactics that he had to endure. Though it may have been the oddest one. Astarion couldn't remember a single time that jumping into a purified water pool led to lovemaking. But there was a first for everything. Though it didn't help that the water was indeed freezing.
"For fuck's sake," Astarion cursed when he came up for air, "This is your definition of fun?"
You giggled as you swam towards him, stopping to wrap your arms around his neck with a smile. Another unexpected move from you, a factor that he hadn't expected, but found oddly endearing.
You were playing with a lock of his wet hair, twisting it between your fingers as he wrapped his arms around you, "Well the fun part hasn't started yet."
Astarion laughed softly, his eyes zeroing in on your lips, "Is it about to start now?"
"I think it is," You whispered back, "You ready for it?"
"More than you know," Astarion murmured, leaning in to finally connect your mouth.
But before he could press his lips against yours you were dodging him, giggling as you whispered in his ear, "Good. Let's race."
And then you were pulling away from him entirely, diving under the water just to show back up a few feet away, a manic grin on your face, "Whoever gets to the opposite bank first wins!"
And then you were off, swimming away. You little cheater. Astarion didn't even think as he want after you, a childish competitiveness taking over. You still won, of course you did with that large of a head start, but he managed to beat you on the second and third try.
By his fourth win you were officially pouting, which only devolved into a splashing fight from there. One that he gracefully let you win.
It was all so stupid. Completely juvenile and beneath him. But then why was he having so much fun?
Eventually, you both got out of the water, opting to sit on the bank as you talked. Just... talking. Nothing more, and about the silliest things:
"If Halsin can turn into a bear, do you think I could learn how to grow an extra finger or two? It would make the lute playing so much easier."
"If you don't mind looking like a freak than sure. Are you thinking of literally growing them or having them attached?"
"If, and just hypothetically, Lae'zel and Shadowheart fought to the death, who would win?"
"Darling in all honesty, I think it would just devolve into lesbian sex."
"If you could go anywhere in the world, right now, where would it be?"
"...I think it would be here."
It was a startlingly fun conversation, one that had Astarion being sincere in ways that made him uncomfortable. But that didn't stop him from participating. The two of you talked about anything and everything until the sky started to lighten, both of you leaning into each other as you watched the sunrise.
That was something Astarion would never tire of, how beautiful the light and sky looked at the start of the day. Part of him still couldn't believe that he was able to see it at all, after two centuries of darkness. But now here he was, sitting on a peaceful riverbank after talking the night away, almost like... like he was a person. A real person who mattered. With someone who somehow thought the same.
You sighed, your head resting on Astarion's shoulder as you watched the pink sky, "We should head back soon. Before anyone starts to worry."
Astarion nodded, his heart clenching the slightest bit when you pulled away to stand. He... didn't want this to end. Not yet. Not when he-actually now that he thought about it, he hadn't done anything in the past eight hours that he had planned. The two of you hadn't even kissed, despite the fact that you had spent the vast majority of the night wet and in your undergarments.
How in the hells did that happen?
Astarion was still trying to figure that out as you tossed his shirt and pants his way. He stood, hastily putting it on while he struggled to figure out what to say next. He was completely off his usual script, at a complete loss as you re-opened the magical waypoint.
You turned back to look at him, that same sweet smile on your face that you had been wearing the whole night, "You ready to go?"
Astarion wasn't the type to stutter, but that's where he found himself when he blurted out, "I- wait- I mean, is that it?"
You cocked your head at him with a tiny frown, one that Astarion wanted off of your face immediately, "Did you not have fun?"
"I didn't say that, but it wasn't exactly the fun that I was referring to," Astarion said as he closed the distance between you, regaining a fraction of his usual forced confidence. Why were you so good at making him feel off-kilter?
He took your hand in his, reverting back to the seduction tactics he knew as he used his other hand to tilt your chin up, "I was thinking something a little more... intimate."
"I know what you meant," You said with a little laugh, giving his hand a small squeeze, "But my way seemed just as enjoyable, don't you think?"
"Darling, that's not exactly the point I was trying to make."
"Oh, I'm aware, but it was mine," You said easily, standing on your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, "Thank you Astarion. It was fun, and I hope we can spend more time together like that in the future."
And just like that you were pulling away again, letting go off his hand to step into the portal, the feeling of your lips against his skin still lingering as you disappeared. Despite himself, Astarion brought his fingers up to where you kissed him, standing there like an imbecile as new feelings started to course through him. Emotions that he had no names for.
Maybe... this was going to be a lot harder than he thought it would.
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cantstoptheimagines · 10 months
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Hunger (Carmy Berzatto | The Bear)
Summary — Things boil over between you and Carmy.
Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Smut (including a lowkey ‘Chef’ kink, Reader being referred to as ‘good girl’, also like one mention of birth control); Carmy mentions never having a girlfriend, so I’m rolling with that (aka Never-Been-Kissed!Virgin!Carmy is upon us!!); a little bit of angst on the side; mentions of childhood trauma and resulting body insecurities (Carmy); cursing (especially the canon-typical ‘Fuck!’); coworkers to lovers with a touch of idiots in love; some typical Original Beef arguments in the kitchen (including Carmy getting put in his place after being extremely mean); Reader accidentally gets burned by hot food; Reader is a waitress with an attitude; my attempts at casual, non-flowery, awkward, quiet conversation between Carmy and the Reader, so please don’t come after me if it sucks, lmao.
Notes ➳ Word Count is 7,942. This is a slow, slow, slow burn! Enjoy it, baby! ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ This is slightly inspired by the chaos of Season 1, Episode 7. I also want to add that this draft was started before the release of Season 2, so absolutely no spoilers in this one!
FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  
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Everything was a complete mess. An expected lunch rush had sent everything and everyone at The Beef into chaos.
You had a line of customers waiting on takeout orders while others were hoping for a table to open up. Some had immediately turned around at the door after seeing the crowd.
Richie stood behind the counter, trying his best to keep up. He gave you a nod as you cleared another table. The fake, ‘customer service’ smile on your face fell as soon as you left the dining room and entered the kitchen. Angel and Manny were both instantly by your side, taking the dishes from your arms. 
Your sigh of relief, however, didn’t last long. As soon as you turned, you were met by Sydney, who shoved a dish at you, shouting, “Hands! Once that’s out, I need you to come back for a sandwich and a salad!”
You barely caught the plate, replying, “Heard!” 
The plate was warm against your hands. The food, however, was burning hot when it flew off the dish and onto your exposed skin as someone interrupted your cry of, “Corner—!”
The plate shattered once it hit the floor, covering the tile in a mess of food. Sauce dripped down your clothes and practically seared your flesh. Amidst the hectic kitchen, only Sydney seemed to notice. She stared at you with a shocked expression as tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.
“—fucking going?!”
You blinked, clutching your blistering hand. You could already feel your skin becoming overly tender. Tears began to slide down your cheeks. Nearby, Tina had paused to see what the commotion was about with concerned eyes.
In front of you stood Carmy. Out of everyone who worked at The Beef, he was the person you were closest to. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole sometimes, especially when the restaurant was busy like today.
Your eyebrows furrowed, and then you quietly asked, “What?”
The flaring pain you were feeling made it almost impossible to focus on what anyone was saying or doing. Carmy’s words, on the other hand, were loud and clear as he took a step closer and shouted, “I asked if you can watch where you’re fucking going?!” 
Your cheeks were wet with tears, which you couldn’t stop from falling, no matter how hard you blinked. Carmy was toe-to-toe with you. He was so close that you could see the sweat on his skin and the red flush of his cheeks. His teeth were gritted as he stared at you with fiery eyes. 
“Carmy,” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “don’t yell at me.”
He came even closer, shoes nearly slipping on the sauce that covered the tile. You avoided meeting his gaze as you continued holding your injured hand. Thankfully, the other one wasn’t as bad, though it still ached. 
“Why the fuck not, huh?!” he continued. “Open your damn eyes next time—!”
“Carmy, stop!” you demanded. “I’m hurting right now and you’re not helping—!”
“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you used your fucking brain!” he snapped, taking two fingers and harshly tapping them against your temple.
You tried to take a step back, only for him to follow. You pressed your lips together in an effort to contain yourself. Sure, you were used to Carmy’s regular outbursts, but this was on a whole other level.
His nose brushed against yours with how close he was standing. Sydney reached out, placing an arm between the two of you, though it wasn’t much help. Tina was slowly coming closer. Everyone else in the kitchen had stopped working to cautiously watch the scene. Even Richie had paused service in the front to stand in the kitchen doorway, ready to step in if he needed to.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, Carmy—!”
“I’ll do whatever I fucking want—!”
Richie finally spoke up, “Hey, cousin, leave ‘er alone, alright—?”
“I’m gonna fuck you up if don’t get outta my face—!”
Sydney was beginning to sweat, “Chef! Please calm down—!”
“If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of my fucking kitchen—!”
SLAP!
“¡Ay, mierda!” exclaimed Tina, mouth agape as your uninjured hand suddenly struck Carmy’s cheek.
The silence that took over was almost deadly. Carmy licked his lips and clenched his jaw. His cheek was already turning bright red with your handprint. A million thoughts ran through his mind as he stared at you.
“If you don’t have anything nice to say to me,” you glared, “then don’t fucking talk, Carmen! You can fuck off instead!”
Carmy kissed his teeth, refusing to open his mouth. Instead, he watched as you whipped around and stormed away from him. You were once again holding your injured hand, in which the pain was only growing worse by the second, as you disappeared around a corner without looking back.
Carmy closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. He didn’t even need to look at the expressions of his coworkers’ faces to know that he had fucked up big time.
His eyes met Sydney’s as he tugged at his thick hair. She, however, only turned away and returned to calling out orders after shaking her head. Richie, meanwhile, gave him the finger before going back to the front to continue lunch service. Everyone else in the kitchen either gave him harsh glares or stares of disappointment.
“Chef!” he called out, gaining Sydney’s attention. “I’ll be back in a few!”
Sydney slowly nodded, “Heard!” 
Carmy glanced down, looking at the mess that covered the kitchen tile, along with his work shoes. Pieces of the shattered plate were spread about as well.
“I’ll clean this up when I get back,” he said, gesturing to the floor.
“Heard!” repeated Sydney, though Carmy could tell she wished he would just leave already.
“Thank you, Chef,” he muttered.
As he passed by Marcus, the usually kind pastry chef glared at him, “You’re a real mess, Berzatto.”
Carmy sighed, slowly making his way around the same corner you disappeared behind only moments ago, “Tell me about it.”
Ebra shouted after him with a bark of laughter, “We don’t have to! You’re gonna find out when you go back there!”
Carmy rolled his eyes, turning the knob on the door that led to the back lot. That was where everyone, including you, disappeared whenever they needed to be alone.
He immediately spotted you sitting on the ground with the restaurant’s first aid kit in front of you. The injury on your hand was now covered with some burn relief gel.
You barely even glanced in his direction when the door closed behind him. The air outside was rather cold and Carmy could see the chills that covered your skin.
He nervously wrapped his hands in the hem of his apron, and then cleared his throat, “I’m sorry.” 
“Whatever,” you shook your head.
He paused, unsure of what he should say next as he blinked a few times. Finally, he licked his lips and stared down at his shoes, “Are you—uh—are you okay? I mean, you’re good?”
You scoffed quietly, shaking your head with a sardonic smile as you finished wrapping your injury with some gauze, “No, Carmy, I’m not good. Fucking asshole.”
Carmy took a deep breath, nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah, alright. I deserve that. You—uh—gonna go early? Home, I mean? Go home early?”
You slammed the first aid kit closed, the latch snapping into place with a click! Standing up, you shoved it into Carmy’s arms, causing him to grunt at the impact against his chest. 
“Yes,” you said, “I’m going fucking home early.” 
He groaned as you pushed past him to go back inside. He slowly trailed behind you, watching you collect your coat and keys. He grimaced at the loud SLAM! of your employee locker. He knew everyone in the kitchen secretly had their ears open, each of them trying to figure out how badly Carmy had messed things up with you.
As you tried to slip past him once more, he reached out to place an arm across your front. He remained facing the empty room of employee lockers while you were facing the kitchen, forced to endure the cautious eyes of your coworkers.
With a sigh, you finally turned your gaze to him, unsure of what to make of his actions, “What?”
“Go to the doctor, alright?” he muttered, eyes gliding over your features.
Everything was much calmer now. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to have finally cleared out some of the crowd, leaving only a few stragglers. Each of them took an occasional glance at the two of you.
You bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but be fully aware of the way Carmy’s startling blue eyes suddenly dropped to focus on your mouth. And you definitely couldn’t stop your own gaze from doing the same, admiring the soft pink shade of his lips.
Maybe it was wrong to be so attracted to your boss. But when your boss was Carmy, you didn’t really care. And there were times, like now, when it felt as though he didn’t care either.
Sure, he could be a real asshole sometimes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t easy on the eyes. Your eyes, more specifically.
“Yo, cousin, we’ve got—! Oh!”
Carmy finally tore his stare away from you, and said, “Just a sec, Richie.”
“Yeah,” nodded Richie, tossing his hands into the air. “Yeah, sure. Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever this is.”
Carmy rolled his eyes before finally returning his attention to you. His stare softened and his fingers dug into the clothing that covered your hip with a gentle squeeze.
“Doctor,” he whispered, “‘kay?”
You finally muttered, “Okay, Bear.”
Carmy gave you a nod, heart pounding when he heard his nickname fall from your lips. Your hip received a few pats and a gentle rub before his arm disappeared from your path. As you walked away, he finally turned to face everyone in the kitchen, all of whom had their eyes on him.
“Well,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “get back to fucking work!”
At the same time, he could hear you ordering Richie, who had followed you to the front, to ‘shut his fucking mouth’.
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You unlocked the back entrance of The Beef. It was way past closing time and each of your coworkers had already gone home. In fact, you had only come back to get the tips you had left behind after your argument and semi-reconciliation with Carmy.
You flicked on one set of smaller lights before making your way through the kitchen and into the front room. Richie always cashed out your tips for you before his shift over and tonight was no different. On the counter, right next to the register, you found a wad of cash and a sticky note with your name on it.
Unfortunately, you were too focused on counting out the money to notice someone appear in the doorway. That is, until they spoke, “Hey.”
You gasped in surprise, clutching at your chest in a failed attempt to stop your pounding heart, ���Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?!”
Carmy smiled down at his feet as he leaned against the kitchen’s door frame. He watched you shove your tips into the pocket of your heavy coat. He nodded towards your hand, and asked, “Rent due?”
You nodded back, “Yeah. Tomorrow morning.”
He hummed quietly, “See a doctor?”
“Yeah,” you replied. “Gave me some stuff to put on it. They said it should be good in a week or two. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” 
“Right,” he said, twisting the hem of his apron around his hands.
He watched your eyes drift to where his fingers wrapped themselves in the blue fabric. The realization that the two of you were alone, without the stress of your loud coworkers or a line of customers, overwhelmed him.
“You do that a lot, ya know,” you said, gesturing to his hands, “when you’re nervous and stuff.”
He shuffled awkwardly, shook his head, and then shrugged, “Hard not to be. We cool?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. One of Carmy’s hands rose to his lips, allowing him to anxiously bite his nails, while the other disappeared into his pocket. The soft glow coming from the back of the kitchen made him look like an angel.
A tired, fidgety, nervous wreck of an angel.
It was hard for him to breathe when you suddenly moved closer and closer until you stood mere inches away from him. He stared at your hand that untucked itself from your coat pocket. Yet, it wasn’t until you gently wrapped your fingers around his forearm, tugging his hand away from his nail-biting habit, that he knew it was over for him. 
“Carmy?”
Fuck.
“Yeah?”
His mind flashed back to all the times Richie had caught him staring at you and made fun of him for doing so.
And how after Sydney had first met you, she turned to him after you had walked away and quietly asked if you were his girlfriend.
And the way Tina almost beat his ass earlier for shouting at you so viciously after everyone else had left for the night, leaving him to wallow alone in his office.
Or the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to your lips while your hand gently rubbed his arm, listening closely as you whispered, “We’re cool.” 
“Good,” he muttered.
Your lips parted with a soft, shuddering gasp. Slowly, Carmy had tilted his head and began leaning in. Your grip on him tightened just as his free hand untucked itself from his pocket. His palm slid under your coat and landed on the same hip he had held earlier that day.
His nose brushed against yours. His fingers dug into you, splayed out against your clothed waist. His eyes slowly fell shut as did yours. After that, it didn’t take long before your lips met his.
You could feel the warmth of his cheeks when you placed your palms against them. You pulled him closer until you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, intertwining your fingers in his hair.
Carmy’s lips moved against yours tentatively. His other hand slowly slipped beneath your coat to caress your back. He groaned at the feeling of you gently scratching his scalp as your fingers ran through his hair.
Slowly, he pulled away, but only slightly. Your hands dropped to his shoulders and then traveled along his strong arms before finally wrapping around his waist. His apron loosened when you tugged at the strings.
Carmy felt his cheeks warm as he allowed you to remove the blue fabric from his body. He watched it fall to the floor and then made an effort to copy your movements, gently pushing your coat off your shoulders before letting it join his apron.
He sighed softly when you pressed your lips against his in a series of short, gentle kisses, “I’ve—uh—I’ve never…”
He trailed off quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed. Richie had always given him shit for being a virgin. But Carmy had gone through life without friends, let alone girlfriends.
“Carmy?”
His lip quivered when his eyes met yours again. He was surprised to find your gaze void of judgment. Instead, you gave him a small smile and gently pressed your hands into his lower back. He hummed quietly when you repeated his name.
Glancing at his lips, you murmured, “Do you want to?”
Despite the millions of thoughts running through his mind, he was still very clear, albeit quiet, with his answer, “With you? Yeah.”
You nodded silently. One of your hands gently pushed some of his thick, messy hair behind his ear. His eyes fell closed at the feeling.
“Was that your first kiss?”
“You gonna laugh at me if it was?” he asked.
You smiled at the way his cheeks flushed with red, and replied, “‘Course not. It’s like that for lots of people.”
He licked his lips, opening his eyes. His fingertips went deeper into your hips. Fuck, you were being so nice to him.
“It was,” he confessed. “That was my first kiss. I’ve never done any of it. Dates, girlfriends, none of it.”
“Okay,” you said, still allowing your fingers to trace through his hair. “You still want to?”
He paused, eyes exploring your features, “Yeah.”
“We can stop any time you want,” you said. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” 
Carmy licked his lips again, hooded eyes drifting to your mouth. Slowly, he nodded and pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes closed and your noses brushed. He could his heart pounding in his chest, briefly wondering if you could as well as he collided his lips with yours once again. 
His fingers delved deeper into your hips. Your hands, meanwhile, tugged at his thick hair, forcing a grunt out of him. He was surprised by how much he liked the feeling. 
Pulling away, though not far enough to avoid the kisses that were now being pressed onto his jaw, Carmy quietly gasped for air, head tilting back as he asked, “Can we go to my office?”
He felt you nod against him in response. He then tugged you along in the direction of his office, biting his lip at the feeling of your mouth on his warm skin. He turned the two of you so that he could see where he was going. Not that doing so was much help since his eyes began fluttering at the feeling of a gentle bite sinking into the flesh of his neck.
One of his hands left your hip momentarily. His palm gripped at one of the metal counters in the kitchen, barely steadying himself. He was nearly tripping over his own feet, distracted by the pleasure you were already sending throughout his body. 
His hand quickly left the countertop. It found a new place on the back of your neck, but only after the two of you finally made it into his office, where he immediately pulled you into another kiss.
Slowly, your hands disappeared from his hair, opting to slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and gently scratch his back instead. You smiled against his lips, nearly breaking the kiss, upon noticing him shiver at the feeling. He practically arched into you, both of his hands moving to your cheeks in order to deepen the kiss.
His white shirt complimented the golden chain around his neck. It was something you had seen him wear plenty of times. And for Carmy, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change just yet.
He paused when you began to slide his shirt up, obviously preparing to remove it from his body. He gently wrapped his hands around your forearms to stop you. His lips then moved away from yours. His head ducked as he cleared his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, eyes beginning to burn. “I’m—uh—It’s just—I don’t—I don’t think—! Shit, I’m sorry! Sorry! Sorry—!” 
“Hey, hey, hey,” you interrupted, gently wiping away any tears that had started to make an appearance on his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Carmy.” 
He sniffled, cheeks warming with embarrassment, upon having felt your hands withdraw from underneath his shirt. His breathing had quickened, along with his heartbeat.
Carmy hid his face against your neck when one of your arms wrapped around him. You softly rubbed the space between his shoulders. Your other hand gently stroked the back of his head, fingers running through his hair once more. Meanwhile, his hands had dropped to your ribs in an effort to steady himself again. 
“We can stop—”
He interrupted you within seconds, shaking his head as he finally met your eyes, “No. I don’t want to. I—uh—I’m just—my childhood wasn’t the best, ya know? Parents were always fightin’ over stupid shit. And sometimes, my dad—well, he—uh—he’d take some of it out on us—”
“Oh, Carmy,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.
He continued, caressing your ribs with his thumbs, “He didn’t do it a lot, but, ya know, my back’s kinda, like, got scars and stuff.”
Pulling him closer, you nodded, still allowing him to lead the conversation, “Okay. Okay.” 
“I promise I wanna do this,” he sniffled again before taking a deep sigh, “but I wanna keep my shirt on. For now anyway. For this time.” 
You nodded again, giving him a small smile and lightly tracing the variety of small freckles on his cheeks, “Of course. Anything you want.”
Carmy hesitantly met your eyes. The startling ocean blue sent chills down your spine, especially when he muttered, “God, you’re so fucking sweet.” 
He didn’t give you a chance to reply. Instead, his hands traveled to your back and pushed you against him in a quick, unwavering motion. He groaned at the feeling of your fingertips imprinting themselves into the fabric of his shirt. His lips moved against yours in yet another heated kiss, though this one was much more desperate than the others had been. 
In that moment, as your hands wandered along his clothed back, venturing to the waistband of his pants, Carmy could picture himself falling in love with you.
In the space between your kisses, gasps of air escaped your throat, “Let me make you feel good, Bear.”
Carmy nodded. His lower back gently collided with the edge of his desk. He watched as you slowly undid his pants. He groaned and his cheeks flushed red at the sight of you lowering to your knees. One of his hands shifted to grip his desk while the other raked through his hair.
Before he knew it, his pants were pooling around his ankles and his hard-on was showing prominently through his briefs. His head tilted back and his gaze met the ceiling as your fingers delved into the waistband of the fabric covering his throbbing cock.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, closing his eyes.
“Carmy?” your quiet voice cut through the tension. “You still okay?”
“I’m fucking perfect,” he whispered. “Please keep going.”
Your amusement was obvious. Carmy hissed when your smiling lips met the flesh of his stomach. He slightly tugged up the hem of his shirt in order to give you more access to his briefs, trying to prepare himself for his first blowjob ever.
The hand that had been in his hair quickly entangled itself in your own. His briefs were slowly being removed with every kiss you gave his skin, your movements trailing lower and lower with every passing second. You stopped at the last possible moment, pulling away and giving a final tug at his briefs.
At last, they fell, finding their place around Carmy’s ankles, alongside his pants. He couldn’t help but watch as his cock sprang free, nearly slapping against his stomach. You eyed it for a moment, licking your lips at the sight of the dark vein on the side and the way it curved slightly to the left. 
Carmy took your pause for negativity. His thumb softly caressed your temple as he murmured, “You alright—? Oh, shit!”
He was suddenly on cloud nine. Fire burned in his chest. Both of his hands moved to tightly grip the back of your neck. One of your hands grasped onto his tense forearm while the other held his cock. Your tongue traced over the vein that you had been admiring. 
His eyes closed and his head tilted back. He could feel you smiling as you pressed a kiss against his cock’s mushroom-shaped head. Your lips trailed along his length until you reached his balls. 
“Fuck!” he groaned, mouth falling open.
The way your tongue lapped at his balls while your hand stroked his swollen length set his stomach on fire. He could feel a layer of sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.
You were a fucking god. And Carmy felt ready to worship you.
Suddenly, you were at the head of his cock again, slowly taking him into your warm mouth. Carmy looked down to watch it happen and nearly came at the sight of you.
Your lips stretched around him. His hands moved to be on either side of your face, gently caressing your temples with the pads of his thumbs. Both of your palms wrapped around his bare thighs.
Carmy hissed at the feeling of his cock disappearing into your mouth as you began bobbing your head along his length. Though when he felt you fondle his balls with a sudden squeeze, he couldn’t stop an abrupt buck of his hips. 
You gagged when the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, as you pulled away, gasping for air. He wiped away the saliva that had built up at the corners of your lips, “Shit! You okay? I didn’t—I didn’t mean to do that!” 
You sniffed, laughing as you brushed off the small tears that came from your eyes, “Yeah, I’m good.” 
Unsure of what to say, Carmy nodded silently. He continued tracing your temples in an effort to comfort you, trying to ignore his cock, which continued to throb between his legs. Meanwhile, you rubbed at his thighs, still trying to catch your breath. 
“Hey, hey,” he muttered, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze, “you sure you’re alright?” 
Your eyebrows rose, your fingertips dug into his flesh, and then you smiled, “I’m fine. But Carm?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re fucking huge.” 
And in yet another wave of shyness, Carmy couldn’t stop the blush that appeared on his face. You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the space above his pelvis, slowly wrapping a hand around his cock once more. Your eyes remained on him as his lips fell open and moans escaped his chest.
“Hey?” you muttered. 
He watched as you leaned against his stomach, resting your chin atop the fabric of his shirt to stare up at him. He shivered at the way your pupils grew. They nearly overtook your irises, leaving only a sliver of their nature shade. 
“Yeah?”
Your teeth dug into your lower lip. Carmy admired the glow that had overwhelmed your skin. He shuddered when your hand tugged particularly hard at his cock.
“Can you fuck my face, Chef?” you whispered. “I want your cock down my throat ‘til I can’t breathe.” 
“Fuck,” he muttered, thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you breathed. “I want you to feel good, Carmy.” 
He hissed at the sudden feeling of your tongue once again tracing over his length. The head of his cock was then repeatedly kissed in a soothing pattern. One of his hands moved to tightly grip the edge of his desk. The other continued smoothing over the skin of your cheek as you took him back into your mouth.
With a hand on his thigh and the other shifting to wrap around his forearm, you slowly dragged his hand to the back of your neck. Carmy panted heavily at the feeling of his hard cock sinking deeper into your throat. He successfully held back his quivering hips, not wanting to accidentally choke you a second time. 
His fingers dug into your skin, his mouth fell open, and heat rose beneath his skin. He looked down to find you with nearly his entire cock in your mouth. The sensation of your tongue swirling around him made him want to cum on the spot. And he nearly did so when your lips finally met the base of his cock. 
Your nose dug into his pelvis. He then felt the mushroom-shaped head of his cock reach the back of your throat, only you didn’t pull away for a fresh burst of air this time. He caressed the back of your neck in an effort to ease the tension. 
Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, soaking your eyelashes. You were doing your best to breathe through your nose. His grip on you tightened when your eyes suddenly looked up at him.
The sight of you staring at him with tear-filled eyes and your lips stretched around his cock made him curse. Both hands quickly returned to your face so he could brush away the glistening tears. After admiring your flushed appearance, he muttered, “You ready?” 
He took the moan you let out around his length as confirmation. The vibrations of it, along with the way your fingers were now tightly grasping at the backs of his thighs in preparation, made him hiss with pleasure. 
He groaned at the wet sounds of your mouth as he began gently thrusting in and out of your throat. He cursed repeatedly, especially when you continued to moan around him. Upon seeing you shut your eyes, however, he patted your cheek to bring your focus back to him.
He smiled down at you when you met his gaze, “Eyes on me, alright? You’re makin’ me feel so—ah!—good right now. Oh, fuck! You’re fucking amazing, ya know that? Oh!” 
Heat was growing in the pit of your stomach when you realized how much pleasure you were giving him. You could feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter by the second. 
You couldn’t help but gag around him when he suddenly gave a rough thrust. You were sure his thighs would have finger-shaped bruises by the end of the night with how strong your grip on him was. 
Carmy’s thrusts were picking up pace. He tossed his head back, eyes shut tight and his mouth agape with silent moans. You wanted him to fuck your face? Then he would do exactly that. 
He repeatedly shoved you down to the base of his cock. With every thrust of his hips, he felt his balls slap against you. The sounds of you practically gasping for air as you choked on his length made him shiver with a blissful expression.
“Fuck!” he groaned. “So fucking good! You’re perfect, ya know?”
His moans continued. The echoes of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth caused warmth to slowly build up within the pit of his stomach. With a few final thrusts, he pressed himself as deep as he could into your throat.
You choked around the sudden release of cum that flooded your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as Carmy pressed you further onto his length. Your nose dug into the skin of his pelvis and you were slowly losing the ability to breathe.
Carmy grunted, now gazing down at you with heavily lidded eyes, as his cock released thick, white ropes of his cum. He huffed in an effort to regain his breath. You, however, made that difficult with each and every time you swallowed around him, taking in all of his cum without a second thought. 
His cock was still hard when you finally pulled away. Your tongue ran over the tip while one of your hands moved to stroke his length. Before you could send him tumbling into overstimulation, Carmy tugged you upwards. 
His lips met yours in a searing kiss, barely able to keep hold of you between heavy pants. You could practically feel his confidence finally starting to bloom within him. 
Twirling in order to switch your positions, you tugged him closer, urging him to help you onto his messy desk. He quickly did so after reaching out to shove aside what seemed like a million unorganized papers. They fell to the floor, some even crumpling beneath his shoes as he stepped on them. 
His large, tattooed hands slipped beneath your shirt as he moaned at the feeling of your lips against his neck. He grasped onto the back of your bra and tugged... to no avail. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice. 
His face flushed red, especially when your clothed thighs squeezed closer to his hips. His cock began to throb as it met the covered space between your legs, desperate and eager for what was to come. 
Carmy furrowed his eyebrows and tried a second time to unclasp your bra. When it refused to budge, he couldn’t help but curse. And he nearly let out another when your affections came to a pause. 
Your kisses slowed. Pressing one against his ear, you whispered, “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. 
You tried not to laugh when you felt another tug, “Carm? D’you need help?” 
He cursed a little louder. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to conceal a grin as you tucked your face into the crevice of his shoulder. When he confirmed your suspicions, you leaned away and did your best to give him a warm, comforting smile. You unhooked your bra and removed it from beneath your shirt with ease, tossing it aside. 
Carmy’s expression shifted into one of frustration, though his eyes shined with a bit of awe, “How the fuck did you do that?” 
Your hands ran over his shoulders as you asked, “Really wanna have that conversation right now?” 
He paused for a moment, seemingly taking some time to think over your words, “Fuck no.” 
You allowed yourself to laugh that time, “Then come here.” 
Carmy found it difficult to breathe when you tugged him closer. The scent of your shampoo fogged his mind as he hid your face against your neck. Your hands guided his, leading them beneath your shirt. He let out a deep sigh when his palms met the warmth of your skin. 
As his hands began tentatively exploring your breasts, he tried to ease his nerves by layering a series of open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with undoing your pants. 
“You have big hands, Carm,” you muttered, leaning your cheek against his messy head of hair as he indulged him in his affections. 
Big, warm, tattooed hands. His thumbs ran over your nipples occasionally as he gently squeezed you. His fingers dug into the plush of your skin. 
Despite having little room with the way Carmy was leaning against you, you managed to push your pants off your waist, shifting your hips in order to do so. As he continued palming at your breasts, he flushed a deeper shade of red, thankful his face was still hidden from your view. 
“Is that a good thing?” he questioned. “Big hands?” 
He felt you nod in response, “It’s hot.” 
In more ways than one, he believed, due to the heat building up in his stomach. His forehead had developed a thin layer of sweat as well. He followed your lead when you directed his hands to your hips instead. When his fingertips met the hem of your underwear, he inhaled sharply. 
“Think you can get these off without any help?” 
He stopped pressing warm kisses against your neck to meet your gaze. With narrowed eyes, he tilted his head at your teasing tone, licking his lips with an amused grin, “Shut up. What happened to the nice, sweet, good girl from before?” 
Holy shit. 
His comment made you pause. Your semi-arrogant smile fell, becoming one of shyness instead. Carmy’s, on the other hand, brightened. He had somehow managed to turn the tables. Seems like it was your turn to be embarrassed. 
He ran his hands over your thighs, gently pulling you closer. He continued to smile as you avoided his gaze. 
“Hey,” he muttered, placing a hand on your cheek and encouraging your eyes to meet his, “d’you like it when I call you that?” 
His smile was softer now. His body language, however, was giving off a newfound confidence, something you didn’t get to see very often. But with the way he caressed your skin, palms rubbing you soothingly in a steady pattern, you could tell he genuinely wanted to know. 
He furrowed his eyebrows when you offered a mumbled reply, “Hmm?” 
With shivers running along your spine and an affirming nod, you repeated yourself, “I do. Yes.”
“Yes, who?” he asked, cursing himself only seconds later for the question.
You couldn’t stop yourself from taking a deep breath in surprise. Your eyes fell to his lips, thinking about feeling them on yours again. Carmy watched you carefully when they did so. His cock throbbed heavily between his legs as the head gently bumped against your clothed entrance with every move he made. 
You met his eyes again when his fingers delved into the flesh of your thigh. Admiring his blown pupils, you answered, “Yes, Chef.” 
Both of his hands came to your hips. His fingers sunk into the hem of your underwear as he whispered, “Can I?” 
He slowly slid the fabric down your legs when you gave him a whispered confirmation. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you pulled him closer. His lips hovered over yours with a groan as your free hand wrapped around his cock.
“Are you sure?” 
Carmy’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut, slowly fluttered open. They flew over your features before he finally nodded, “Yeah.” 
Your lips met his in a soft kiss before your forehead came to rest against his. With your hand gently stroking his length, Carmy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp. He looked down to watch your movements with desperate, hooded eyes. 
You ran the mushroom head through your wet folds. Carmy would’ve been embarrassed by his fascination at the way his cock glistened with your wetness if he wasn’t too busy groaning in pleasure. 
“Gotta go slow, okay? I’ll have to adjust,” you said, and then a quiet laugh filled the air between the two of you. “Like I told you, you’re big.”  
Carmy was sure his skin was cherry red by now, due to a combination of the growing heat in his stomach and your compliments. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows furrowed when your hand eased the head of his cock into your entrance. He couldn’t stop his fingers dug into your skin, creating indents on your thighs. 
Arms encasing your lower back, he pressed himself closer, furthering the reach of his cock. His chest met yours, both of your shirts rubbing against the other. He could both see and feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. 
Your hand that had been guiding him moved upwards, threading through his thick, unruly hair. He didn’t even need to move for you to start letting out a series of gasping moans. The sheer size of him was enough. 
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you nudged him as close as you could. His warmth melted into yours. His skin was aglow with heat, effort, and sweat. His length sinks deeper, stretching you wide and open for him. You hiss at the feeling. 
Oh, yeah. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. 
You kiss the bridge of his nose as you adjust to his size. Carmy quickly raises his head so his lips can meet yours. It’s a struggle, given how difficult it is for either of you to properly breathe at the moment. 
Carmy’s cheeks are flushed red entirely. He’s burning on the inside with a newfound desperation for you. His cock throbs inside your walls and he feels as though he’s being drowned in your body by the pressure. Meanwhile, you can hardly focus on anything besides the noises he continuously lets out. 
He hisses and groans with every shift, not expecting the feeling to be so tight. You’re dripping with so much arousal that it’s nearly soaking his pelvis and thighs. As his hands traveled under the fabric of your shirt to practically claw at your back, he can’t help but think about how the feeling of you around him is infinitely better than that of his own fist. 
In that moment, Carmy knew you had ruined him for anyone else. He was completely, without any doubt in his mind, yours. And fucking proud of it too. 
“You can move,” you whispered, strengthening your grip around his shoulders and tugging at his hair. 
One of his arms curled further around you. His palm landed between your shoulder blades, slowly gliding over your skin that was hidden beneath your shirt. The other wrapped around your lower back. 
His cheek leaned against yours as he gasped heavily into your ear after the first roll of his hips. Your hand continued to pull at his dark strands of hair, the other tangling itself in his shirt. 
Slowly, he rocked into you, the pace starting off easy and unhurried. Given his size, you could already feel the head of Carmy’s cock gently bumping against your cervix. You gasped heavily with each of his movements. Your body writhed against him. 
“Faster,” you muttered. “Carmy, go faster. Oh, fuck, please.” 
Carmy melted at the way your moans echoed throughout his office. He huffed repeatedly with effort as his thrusts steadily increased. The slapping of skin, along with the slick sounds of your wet entrance, filled the room. Carmy couldn’t help but curse when your teeth suddenly sunk into the crevice of his neck. 
“Shit!” he exclaimed. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Could stay inside you forever! Damn it! Wanna stay, wanna stay!”  
Your mind felt empty of anything besides Carmy. His warm breath hitting your skin as he rambled on and on. The way he clawed at you desperately, trying to bring you impossibly closer. How his balls were repeatedly slapping against your dripping arousal. 
“Carmy!” you whined, trying your best to redirect his grip on you, which was rather difficult due to his lightning pace. “Here! Touch me here! Make me cum! Make me let go on your cock! Oh, shit, you’re—ah!” 
You guided his fingers against your clit. Despite his state of pleasured delirium, Carmy seemed to understand what you wanted from him. He massaged the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves down your spine. 
The tightly wound cord within you finally snaps. You cry out, gripping onto Carmy in order to gain at least some sense of stability. He continues to rut in and out of you like no tomorrow.
The only inclination that he knows you’ve finally cum is the pitchy moan he lets out when your walls constrict his cock with every wave of release. His hand is covered in your cum and he can’t stop himself from pulling his face out of hiding.
With one arm still around you and his hips still slapping loudly, he’s quite the vision when he suddenly brings his fingers to his mouth. It’s then, as he gets a taste of you, that he decides you’re his new favorite meal. In just one night, you’ve made him insatiable.
His hand goes for another round, trying to collect more of your wetness on his fingertips. Meanwhile, you’re beginning to collapse into overstimulation. You take to pressing your forehead against Carmy’s shoulder, panting and huffing as his throbbing length continues to delve deep into your dripping hole. 
Carmy’s trying his best to take in every bit of you that he can, repeatedly collecting your release to press against his tongue as he pounds into you. He rubs at your clit with reckless abandon, craving more of the taste. 
“Please, please,” he begged, distressed at the very idea that you might not cum again. “Wanna keep tasting you! You’re so fucking good!” 
He’s unaware that your moans are no longer coherent. The only thing that continues to tumble from your lips is the sound of your uncontrollable gasps for air and an occasional curse.
Given it was his first time, you hadn’t expected him to have so much stamina. His thrusts seemed impossibly fast, pistoning in and out of you at lightning speed without a second thought. 
Sinking against him, another orgasm washed over you as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Carmy groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, “Fuck, I can’t—! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum, fuck, oh—!” 
His entire lower half rolls into you. He can feel crescents forming in his skin with how deep your nails are digging into him. He thrusts again, once, twice, and then a third time before he’s spilling into you. His cum seeps out around his cock, forming a white ring at the base. 
Despite hardly being able to breathe, he pulls you into a kiss. His lips move against yours in gentle movements. It’s a stark contrast to the way he had been pounding into you only seconds ago. His length is beginning to soften inside you, which you’re slightly grateful for. You weren’t entirely sure you’d make it through another round of that. 
“Are you okay?” he muttered, lips haphazardly meeting yours as his cock leaves you. “Shit, I didn’t mean to cum inside. I’m sorry.” 
You shook your head, “I’m on birth control. And I can get a morning-after pill.” 
He nods in response and then his eyebrows scrunch up. You almost laugh, wanting nothing more than to smooth out the ridges between them. Your hands glide over the fabric of his shirt, tracing over his chest absentmindedly. 
Pressing another kiss against his jaw, you ask him just to make sure, “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, hands slipping beneath your shirt in order to rub your back. “It’s just—uh—I don’t know, it’s stupid—”
“I’m sure it’s not,” you interrupted, not wanting him to lose the confidence you had seen in him only minutes prior. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” 
His eyes quickly darted to the side. Although they only did so for a split second, you still noticed. Following the direction of his glance, your gaze lands on your discarded bra.
Carmy lets out a quiet curse as he zips up his pants, realizing that he had been caught. He ignores your smirk while he pulls you off his desk and helps you do the same. Even though helping you put your clothes back on is something no one else had ever done for you after sex before, you knew it was at least partially meant to distract you from your new revelation.
You quickly decide, however, that you can’t help yourself. With a smile, you quietly say his name in an effort to bring his attention back to you. 
“Hmm?” he muttered, trying to ignore the way your hands trace gently over his shoulders while he rebuttons your pants. 
You slowly tilt his head, leaving him with no choice but to meet your eyes. You repeat his name in a sing-song voice, “Carmy!” 
He grasped your hands in his and pulled them away from his face. He quickly distracts himself by playing with your fingers. After a moment, he sighed before looking at you with softened eyes. 
“Can you teach me the bra thing now?” 
Your face brightens with an amused laugh. Carmy instantly groans in embarrassment, throwing his head back and swatting gently at your backside with a muttered, “Stop that! I told you it was fucking dumb!” 
“No, no,” you shook your head, still chuckling as he rolled his eyes. “Pass it here, Berzatto. Then you can keep it as a homework assignment.” 
He muttered a curse under his breath, which only made you fall into another fit of laughter. He then picked your bra up from the floor and handed it over. With an arm on either side of your hips, he rests his palms on his desk that sat behind you. All his weight leans onto them and you can’t help but smile at how close he is while he stares intently at your hands, waiting for you to begin your lesson.
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916 notes · View notes
thecuriousquest · 8 months
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Hii can i request a platonic yandere bakugo fic where where kastuki where his parents are hosting a foreig exchange student and while there living there kastuki keep trying to get them to refer to him as their brother? Reader is polite but doesn’t interact with them much tyy 💕💕
Have No Fear, Nii-Chan’s Here
Tag List: @issamomma
Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, threats of violence, almost drowning, injury, open wound, blood
Checkout my Master List here.
—————————————————————————
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You cross the threshold of the Bakugou household. You came all the way from America to be hosted by them in the foreign exchange student program.
“You really didn’t have to do that. I could have gotten the heavy stuff,” you try to tell Katsuki and his father.
“Shut up. Don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t want your arms falling or anything.”
Grumbling something under your breath about not being weak, you observe that he has a really weird way of showing concern.
“Oh, Katsuki, you can just leave it right there.”
He shoots you a glare before telling you to follow him. “Come on. I’ll show you where your room is.” He takes the other bag from his father and hauls everything up the stairs with ease.
It makes you feel useless as you trail up the steps behind him.
When you reach the room, you look around at it. It’s a spacious room, much bigger than yours at home.
“Look, if you’re gonna be staying here, I don’t want you calling me by my name. I think it would be better if you called me something else.”
You turn to face him with a cocked brow. “What exactly do you want me to call you if not your name?”
“‘Big Brother’. You could also call me ‘Big Bro’, but I like the first one better.”
You giggle a bit until you realize how serious he is. “What? No, I’m not calling you that.”
His expression morphs. His lips are slightly downturned, and his vermillion eyes narrow at you in slits.
“I wasn’t really asking.”
Just then, like a saving grace, his mother’s not-so-angelic voice shrieks for Bakugou to help her with something downstairs.
He rolls his eyes and stalks out of the room with his hands in his pockets. “Lucky you. Don’t think we’re finished with this conversation,” he throws over his shoulder before slamming your door shut behind him.
You can hear him shout behind the barrier to his mother, “WHAT, YOU HAG?!”
You sit down on the bed, pondering about how angry you made him just by disagreeing with the situation. You don’t want to call him your brother because he’s not your family. Your family is at home in America, and right now, you want nothing more than to go back because his cutting glare really bothers you.
———
On Friday, you have two weeks left before school starts. Sitting on the couch, flipping through your book for a specific page, you see a hand grab your book and pull it away from you.
“Hey, that’s mine!” you yell as you try to snatch it back from him.
“Shut up, brat. I’m just trying to see what you’re reading.”
When you tire yourself out from trying to get the book back, you cross your arms and pout. “What does it matter to you?”
“Just want to make sure it’s age appropriate. Can’t have you filling your head with garbage. Eh, seems alright for you.” He tosses the book on your lap and takes a seat beside you.
“Katsuki, can you go somewhere else? You’re distracting me.”
Looking at your book, you don’t register his anger until his voice comes out restrained through clenched teeth. “What did I tell you about calling me that? Are you stupid or something?”
“I am not stupid! Don’t you dare ever call me that again. You know what? I’ll just go to my room because you’re obviously not going to go anywhere.”
You try to leave the room, only to have Bakugou grab you by your shoulders and turn you back around to face him. He shoves you against the corner walls, trapping you.
Bakugou raises his hand, but not to strike you. You flinch and squeeze your eyes closed. You keep waiting for a sting on your cheek, a ring in your ear, something painful. However, none of it comes.
Opening your eyes, you see small explosions going off on his palm.
“You see that? Call me by my name again, and I’ll light your ass on fire.”
So, you decided not to call Katsuki anything at all. You decided you wouldn’t even interact with him. Over the next few days, every time he would walk into the room, you would leave. Every conversation he attempts to start with you goes ignored. It infuriates him, but it’s the only way you can manage to get any peace.
———
A few days later on Monday, Mitsuki asks if you’d like to go to the community pool with Bakugou sometime during the week.
You smile awkwardly, telling them that you’re not a fan of the pool.
“Oh, really? Why’s that?” She queries.
“Well, I just don’t know how to swim.”
An idea begins to form in his head, and Katsuki wraps an arm around you playfully and says, “Don’t worry, Nii-chan’ll teach you how to swim.”
You smile politely so as not to cause any trouble, but you mentally put your foot down. There’s no way in hell anyone could get you to go swimming.
———
Katsuki drags you all the way there. “Quit struggling. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t want to!” you huff at him as you set your things down on the chair.
“Alright fine. Pout all you want. I’m getting out of this heat.” He dives into the pool.
To you, it actually looks pretty fun. You wish you could swim.
Looking around, you notice that you and Katsuki are the only ones here. It’s inevitable that the adults are at work since it is a regular Tuesday, meaning their kids are probably sleeping in if they’re teenagers or at daycare if they’re too young. You’re only surprised that there isn’t a lifeguard on the clock.
Sitting on the ledge, you watch Katsuki swim. You two even end up chatting for some time. He splashes you playfully, and you laugh while kicking water at him. For the first time since you’ve been at the Bakugou household, you start to relax. Maybe, Katsuki isn’t so bad after all.
He gets out of the pool to get a drink from the vending machine. He turns to you, dripping with water as he grabs some coins from his wallet.
“You want anything?” He asks you.
“No thanks. I brought my water bottle.”
When he comes back, he’s had enough of you being such a scardy cat. With the sole of his foot on your back, he pushes you into the deep end. You struggle to stay afloat, flailing your arms about as you try to gain purchase.
“Katsuki!” You sputter chlorine infused water as your head dips below the surface.
He crouches down. “You want my help? You know what to say.”
How could he do this to you? How could he use something like this to his advantage just to give him a title that’s not even his?! If you want to live, you have to swallow your pride.
“Big Brother, he-help!” Too much water goes into your mouth, and you end up coughing fervently.
He dives into the deep end, wraps an arm around your stomach, swims to the ladder, and helps you out. He pats your back to help you cough up more water.
Once you’re settled and the shock of what just happened wears off, you try to run away from Katsuki. You end up tripping, and a giant abrasion forms along the front of your knee and shin. Crying out in pain, you hold your leg as the throbbing burn takes over. There’s blood spilling from the gash, and you can’t get yourself to breathe through it.
Katsuki picks you up in his arms and carries you the entire way home. Once there, he gets the first aid supplies ready. He fixes up your wound, making sure to treat you with caution.
“Don’t try to run off on me like that again. Kay?”
“Okay, Kat-”
He presses down on your knee with the worst pressure imaginable.
“Okay, Big Brother! I’m sorry, stop!”
He lets go of your leg and leans forward. “Remember that all of this could have been avoided if you had just been good and called me that in the first place.”
Nodding, you can see the scarlet liquid begin to bleed through the gauze. It’s terrifying knowing that one of your hosts did this to you, maybe not directly, but he’s the cause of it. For fuck’s sake, you almost drowned because of him.
He rustles your hair with his fingers in a playful manner before taking his hand away. “If you behave, then we can get along pretty well. If not, well…” He taps your wrapped leg. “You know what can happen.”
It takes a lot for you to utter the words he wants to hear. “Yes, Big Brother.”
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ringsofsaturnnnn · 9 months
Text
— [🪐] ·˚ ༘ ✎ 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞
MDNI | a.arlert x fem!reader
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: armin has to hear you say those three words, even if you’re dating his friend.
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) :: kinda mean armin, breeding kink, armin refers to himself as daddy once, armin calls the reader a slut, reader is cheating on jean, car sex (let me know if i missed anything!)
𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: woahhh, i’m back on the writing grind? also, i apparently don’t know what a drabble is cause this got way longer than expected. anyways, enjoy! not proofread, so i hope it makes sense 😭
© 2023 ringsofsaturn | please don't copy or repost my works! i have not given permission to anyone to repost my works. reblogs/comments/likes are okay!
𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥
tag list: @arminsumi <3
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it was wrong. you knew it. he knew it. the both of you knew it, but it didn’t stop you.
your dainty fingers found his soft cotton t-shirt, tugging him closer as your lips danced together passionately. his hands toyed with the hem of your shirt, his fingertips ghosting over the soft flesh of your tummy.
he had you pinned between the door of his car and himself, the coolness of the steel seeping into your skin despite the fact that you had a shirt and jacket on. “armin..” you gasp, pulling away from the blond. both of you had matching blushes and giddy smiles on your face.
a voice deep inside of you kept telling you that this was wrong. that jean had always been a good boyfriend to you. he never did anything to warrant you cheating on him with his friend. however, when armin’s fingers gripped your waist and pulled you closer, you pushed that voice away.
“hm?” his voice came out as a low hum, his fingers trailing up and down your sides. a shiver raced down your spine at his gentle touch. “i.. i need you..” you couldn’t stop yourself from saying what was on your mind. looking up, you watched as a wicked grin slowly crossed the supposedly “innocent” blond’s face.
“then get in the back of my car.” was all he whispered.
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it wasn’t long before you found yourself on top of armin in the backseat of his expensive sports car. your shirts were both discarded, armin’s pants and boxers pulled down to his knees. you had perched yourself precariously on his lap your fingers squeezing his bare shoulders.
“tell me you love me.” he panted desperately, sweat beading up on his pale forehead. his golden locks were glued to his sticky skin as he thrust into you mercilessly. your eyes widened at his request, but his pace never faltered. “i-i won’t hold you to it, i promise. just.. oh god-“ he grunted. “i just have to hear you say it. please..” his voice was whiny as his fingernails dug into the leather of his car seats. his head was thrown back, resting against the fogged over windows of his car.
without a second thought, you said the three words armin so desperately needed to hear before he came deep inside of you. “i love you!” you gasp, your nails sinking into his soft flesh, leaving small crescent shapes in their wake. the blond let out a small whine, one that resembled something a puppy would make. “say it again. say it again, please!” he begged. his grip on your waist tightened as he continued to force you down on his cock.
“i love you. i love you so much, armin.”
that was all it took before he moaned loudly, his hips stuttering a little before stilling. you could feel his cum entering you, filling you to the brim. “oh fuck, baby..” he hissed quietly. lifting his head, he pressed his sweaty forehead against yours. the sounds of panting and the smell of sex lingered in the air, reminding you of what the two of you had just done.
his hands never left your hips and you never moved your hands from his shoulders. it wasn’t long before he was pushing his lips against yours once more, slowly starting to move his hips. “gotta.. gotta breed you before i can let you go.” he murmured softly against you.
you kissed him back without a second thought. “gotta put my baby in you.” pulling away from your lips, he leaned in close so he could whisper in your ear. “how do you think jean would feel, hm? how do you think he’d react if he found out that innocent little armin was fucking his girlfriend like the slut she is?” he taunted, starting to kiss down your neck.
armin could be mean and his words could be cruel. but for some reason, his cruelty and taunts turned you on all the more. you couldn’t help but moan, babbling incoherent nonsense. armin chuckled, pulling away from your neck. moving one hand from your hip to your chin, he gripped it with his index and thumb.
smirking, he tilted your head side to side as if he was examining you. his blue eyes watched you like a hawk as he witnessed you going stupid on him. “i asked you a question, sweet thing. now answer it, or are you already too dumb on my fat fucking cock?” you just nodded your head, tears pricking your eyes.
playfully scoffing, armin shook his head. “is my dick better than jean’s? hm? go on. tell me.” armin gave a particularly harsh thrust, hitting just the right spot that sent you spiraling off the edge of pleasure. “yes! your c-cock is better! s’much better..” you whimpered helplessly, tears freely flowing down your cheeks now.
he laughed loudly, cooing in response to your words. “yeah, that’s what i thought. my poor baby isn’t being treated properly by her boyfriend,” moving his hand, he wiped the tears that dripped down your cheeks. “it’s okay. daddy’ll take care of you now..” his sweet words dripped off his tongue as your eyes rolled back in pleasure.
“g-gon, gonna.. g-gonna!” you couldn’t finish your sentence. your pussy clenched around him as you came, making him groan loudly in pleasure. “good girl. that’s a good fucking girl..” armin praised as he chased after his fast-approaching high. “gonna knock you up, okay? gonna give you my baby. you’re gonna have our baby, then you’ll be mine forever..”
all you could do was nod as armin gave one last thrust, whining as he burst inside of you. he pulled you close, holding you flush against his sweaty chest as his heavy load shot inside of you. loud moans escaped your parted lips as your sticky skin stuck to his.
what you did was wrong. you knew it. he knew it. the both of you knew it, but it still didn’t stop either one of you.
“hey sweetheart?”
you looked up, allowing your eyes to lock with his beautiful ocean blue ones. you tilted your head, a silent gesture to tell him to continue speaking. a wide smile spread across his face as he parted his lips.
“i love you too..”
674 notes · View notes
biibini · 4 months
Note
Hiii! I love your hcs! Can I request a scenario of going on a date to an arcade with Mizu? (and possibly winning her a Snoopy plushie??)
fluff modern!mizu x reader at an arcade date (request)
tags: fluff, arcade date, modern!mizu, reader & mizu are already dating, date nights, snoopy reference, sweet kisses, author loves love, author wishes that was her with mizu,
a/n: thank YOU for reading my hcs! that one mizu & snoopy post is so adorable i just want my girl to be happy :,) also i’m starting school AGAIN i can never catch a break w this damned quarter system
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modern!mizu & u are already dating in this scenario
but every other week would be a date night
it didn’t matter if it was a simple or extravagant date
it was always a designated time to catch up, spend quality time together, and experience new things
even with the busyness of college and classes and homework, it was still a night to look forward to
this upcoming friday was a night at the arcade
u had been there with friends before but it had been a couple months since ur last visit
it wss also mizu’s first time going to the arcade w u as a date
u had already talked ab the games u wanted to try together such as the mario kart, a few shooting games, airhockey
modern!mizu would def let her competitive side come out with some games
she already gets competitive with taigen when it comes to sports
she totally doesnt rock his shit in basketball
if she’s against you, she’ll go easy on you
doesn’t mean she won’t back down from a fight
You and Mizu were hand in hand, checking out the games available at the arcade. Going down one of the aisles, you found yourselves at the some of the newer arcade games. Skimming at some of them, you hear a familiar sound.
Hadoken!
It was soon followed with a grunt and fighting groans. You turn back to find a Super Street Fighter game, patiently waiting to be played. Your eyes widen as they found the perfect challenge.
You playfully tugged at Mizu’s hand, pointing at the retro machine.
“I bet I can beat you at the Street Fighter.” you said, lightly jabbing at her competitive spirit. You knew she would put her all in it. However, you wondered of its limit.
Mizu glanced at you, and then looked back to spot the machine. Her eyes ignited, seeing the challenge put right in front of her by her
“You in?” you say, defying her in a playful tone.
“You bet.”
so um
turns out that was the WORSE POSSIBLE GAME YOU COULD CHALLENGE MIZU TO
u played a little bit with friends and family but mizu was on another level
how exactly did mizu beat ur ass for 5 rounds straight???
old man eiji.
he was a retro arcade go-er during his prime
even had the game console to continue his practice at home
if he wasn’t welding or fixing up someone’s bike, he was definitely spending his time grinding on the game
so modern!mizu end up playing games with him bc he got sick and tired of the computer bots
Player 2 Wins blinks again on the screen while her character, Ryu, celebrates another round of victory. You slowly turn to face Mizu to find a grin forming on her face.
“Wanna go again, baby?”, she taunts, hugging your hips closer to her.
You blankly stare into her eyes, your orbs empty from defeat. Mizu already knew your answer.
“Let’s find one we can both do.”, she said as she gave you a quick peck on the cheek. Her arm wrapped around your shoulder, beginning your hunt for the next game to win together.
modern!mizu would def try to win u a prize
actually no not one
all of them. yes she will try.
do not let her in a round1
iykyk
that is plushie heaven and credit/debit hell
her poor card will be spent trying to win u a prize
she wouldn’t outright announce her achievements
but she would attempt to sneak away from u, hoping to get lucky and win a plushie or two
u loved and appreciated the sweet thought
but
there was no room on the bed, the bookshelves, the desk, the couch
mizu even brought a couple plushies back home but her old man started to complain about mizu and u coming by just to drop off plushies and not see him
(he likes the plushies but bro is alone with his craft and misses his girl sometimes)
if u eyed any specific prize, modern!mizu would stop for nothing to earn it for u
at the arcade, u eyed a snoopy plushie, stuck in a claw game (for a little too long) and pouted at how cute it was
like cmon it was rlly cute
he had a puffer and a lil hat
mizu immediately saw ur reaction and locked in
Mizu’s arm slides off your shoulder. You look back, hoping to find the missing arm. No arm, no Mizu.
Instead, you find her striding over to the claw machine you just stared at with a goal in mind. Snoopy was coming with you, one way or another. The thought of Snoopy being in your arms was nice, but there was no way she was going to get it.
First off, your bedroom was already filled with plushies. Peace and love to all of them. They were practically your babies. However, every flat surface or shelf had a plushie. Every. Single. Surface.
The bed was crowded as well. No way there would be space for another plushie. There was also no way that she would go back home to drop off more plushies. Eiji was at his limit with the amount she dropped off during the last time.
Secondly, she had already spent so much money trying to get twinning plushies for the both of you. Her poor credit card was taking hit after hit after hit. Mizu drastically failed after every attempt and you had to basically pull her away from the machine after her 11th time.
Third of all, the both of you were getting ready to leave the arcade for dinner. After getting demolished by Mizu 5 rounds in a row at Super Street Fighter, you didn't have much energy in you to play more games.
But once Mizu gets set on something, it's hard to pull her away from it. It was already difficult separating her from her failed claw games earlier. You just decided to accept the outcomes of this claw machine this time around.
On the other hand, Mizu was in the zone. She studied the position of the plushie, focusing on how far back Snoopy sat. She slid the arcade card, starting her future attempts to retrieve the plushie. She bit the inside of her cheek as her hand carefully held the joystick. The machine jingled, starting its countdown.
0:30
Mizu took a deep breath, closing her eyes.
Focus Mizu.
0:29
You can get this for Y/N.
0:28
Mizu opens her eyes, pushing the joystick to the right in hopes of aligning the claw with Snoopy. She then pushes the joystick forward, nudging it as it gains proximity to the dog plushie.
0:23
The claw seemed right above Snoopy. Although it made you satisfied, Mizu couldn't agree. Something felt off.
0:21
She nudged the joystick to the left once.
0:20
Still unsatisfied, she pushed the claw back. Her eyes squinted, hoping to gain a clearer view of the claw and its alignment.
0:18
She continues to stare at the placement, studying it. Almost watching it like prey.
You watch from behind as you hear the faint sounds of laughing and other arcade games being played go off. In front of you is complete silence and concentration.
0:10
Mizu nudges the joystick forward.
0:09
She gets closer to the game. At this point, her face is practically smudging her view.
0:07
She nudges the joystick to the right once again. She sees the claw fully aligned with the plushie.
0:06
Should I press the button?
0:05
Mizu's eyes glance up and down, hoping to draw the line between the claw and your future prize.
0:04
You watch as her right hand is sitting on top of the collect button. Her fingers are so close to pushing it, practically edging the top of the button. They're ready to take the chance yet her hands refuse to commit.
0:02
"Drop it, Mizu."
0:01
She nudges the joystick one more time, bringing it slightly forward.
0:00
You come up next to her, watching the claw machine slowly descend down to the gigantic pile of plushies, a mix of Snoopy merchandise. Yet only one got your heart.
The claw extends, closing in on the plushie you stared at earlier. Its thin, metal arms wrap around Snoopy's head. It tightened its grip, securing Snoopy in the arm.
You watch the plushie slowly ascend. The both of you carefully watch the claw bring the prize. As the claw continued its journey to the drop-off corner, it slightly swung back and forth. You grab Mizu's right hand, holding it in anticipation and fear. She squeezes it once.
You look up to meet her gaze only to find a reassuring smile. You mirror her, giving her one back. You hear a small thud below. Mizu bends down to find your beloved Snoopy, handing him to you.
Your eyes widen. Snoopy was much cuter up close, especially with his little hat and baby blue puffer jacket. Looking up, you spot a proud Mizu. You simply get closer to her and give her a sweet kiss on the lips.
"Thank you, baby."
"Of course," she answers. "Anything for you, my dear."
She backs away and extends her hand out: an invitation to lunch.
You smile, accepting the invitation. With intertwined hands, you leave the arcade with another plushie in hand.
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fairy-writes · 10 months
Note
Hello dear! How are you? I hope you are doing great💕
I'd like to request an oneshot with William J. Moriarty, where he has just returned from a mission with minor injuries on his back and his wife (preferably feminine, but if you're uncomfortable gender neutral is fine!) takes care of him. There she sees the scars from when his foster mother would punish him so she caresses and kisses his back😌.
With prompt 7
I really hope this is not confusing and thank you very much in advance. 😘😘
KNOW WHEN IT’S ENOUGH
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Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
__________________________________________________________________________
Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot
Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader
Prompt: “Enough is enough, and your best is good enough.” (Dialogue Prompt #7)
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader
Notes: I’m weak for people calling their significant other “love.”
Vague references to the Hounds of the Baskervilles chapter(s) of the manga!
__________________________________________________________________________
It’s late when William gets home. 
You wake to the sound of the bedroom door opening and see him in the light of the dying fireplace. Your husband is haggard, covered in dirt, and looks like he’s two seconds away from passing out. 
You’re out of bed in an instant, gently working his long black coat from his shoulders and guiding him toward the shared bathroom in your chambers. 
“I’m fine, love. Really, it’s merely a few scratches.” He says, and you hush him as you turn on the oil lamps and flit about the bathroom like a busy bee. You gather bandages and ointment from under the sink and draw a bath. Setting your supplies on the counter, you turn to face your husband. 
William is leaning tiredly against the doorframe, watching with something akin to amusement at your fretting. 
“I promise you, I’m alright.” He says, and you shake your head, approaching him and dusting some dirt off of his cheek. 
“I want to make sure, William. Please?” You whisper, and he sighs, cupping your hand and keeping it there. He leans into your touch and offers a small smile.
“When can I ever say no to you?” He whispers, and you grin brightly. 
You turn away to give William some privacy as he sheds the rest of his clothes. You’ve already seen all of him. As he’s seen all of you. But it still seemed appropriate. 
The splash of water alerts you, and you turn to see William sinking into the bath, eyes closed and looking utterly at peace. You fold his clothes and set them aside as he starts to relax. His arms hand out of the tub, and as you drag a stool to sit behind him, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even move as you lather some soap in your hands and scrub it deep into his hair, getting all the dirt and smoke out from the golden strands. 
Once done scrubbing his hair, you take a cup that was beside the tub and fill it with water to gently rinse the grime from your husband’s hair. 
“What was the mission about this time?” You ask softly, and his eyelashes flutter but don’t open, as if you had woken him from sleep.
“Some nobles had been kidnapping children and hunting them for sport. Fred was worried, so we went and took them down. The children were rescued.” He says simply, and you hum.
“What about the nobles?” You can’t help but ask, and he finally tilts his head back and opens his eyes to look at you. 
They’re tired and dark.
As if he had done something terrible.
He likely had.
You weren’t a fool. You weren’t necessarily privy to William’s methods, but you were well aware of the lengths he would go to achieve his goals. 
“They got what they deserved.” Is all he says, and closes his eyes again as you comb the wet hair from his eyes. You nod once,
“I’m glad.” You reply. The two of you sit in silence as you gently wash the dirt from William’s shoulders. 
Then you noticed the faint red color coming from his back, leaking into the water and turning it pink.  With a frown, you gently push William forward from where he was relaxing to get a good look at his back. He moved without a fight.
William wasn’t necessarily well-built or massive like Moran. He was lithe and lean, built almost like a dancer rather than a fighter. 
He was also covered in scars. Old and new. Some were from past missions. Others were not. 
Though William wasn’t one to talk about his past, you had gathered enough in passing conversation to know that Albert’s family wasn’t the kindest to him and Louis. You knew the both of them were adopted from an orphanage as a charity case rather than out of the goodness of the Moriarty family’s hearts. You knew their birth son, whose name your husband had taken, was especially cruel to the boys. And you knew that the mother was quick to physical violence. 
But to this extent?
You traced what looked like an old scar of a belt buckle, and it was then that William realized just what was going on. He sat up quickly, turning to say something but stopped when he saw the look on your face. 
It was then that you realized you were crying. 
Tears streaked your cheeks, and you wiped them with soapy fingers, careful not to get the suds in your eyes. Droplets of water dotted your nightgown, but you paid them no mind. He turned so he was facing you in the tub and reached with a wet hand to cup your cheek.
“Why do you cry, my love?” He asked, and you gave a rather sad, watery sort of smile.
“Because you’re always doing so much with no regard for yourself. You took all that witch’s punishments without complaint, without so much as a word against her.” You whispered, and his eyes turned so unimaginably sad.
“I have to. I have to try my best to help others.” He replied, and you shook your head, leaning to press a kiss to his shoulder.
“Enough is enough, and your best is good enough. You can’t work yourself to death. I won’t stand for it.” You say, and he doesn’t say anything else.
So, once he’s clean, you fetch his robe, a towel, and a fresh change of night clothes. You wait until he’s clothed from the waist down before dressing the injuries on his back. They’re minor in severity and won’t need stitches, but you clean and bandage them nonetheless.
All the while, William doesn’t say a word.
Until you’re nearly finished, that is. 
As you’re wrapping the last of the gauze around the worst of the largest injury, he speaks. 
“Thank you.” He says quietly, and you smile, although he can’t see it. You lean and press a gentle kiss to his back, right over his heart.
“It’s not a problem. I love you.” You reply, and he hums.
“I love you too.”
465 notes · View notes
aziraphales-library · 4 months
Text
The requests for Christmas fics have started to come in... far, far too late. Remember folks, it takes us months to answer asks and then they're in the queue for a while before publishing.
Luckily this blog is a resource, not simply an ask blog. We already have a #christmas tag you can check for fics we've recommended before!
As a little bonus, here are a few new fics from this year...
City Of Blinding Lights by ShadesOfDeviant (G)
“Well, I sometimes—that is to say—I often considered an early evening walk round the area to see the lights quite the romantic endeavour. Arm in arm under the glow of the fairy lights, I even have a route planned out for should I ever get the chance to go.” “Should you ever get the chance?” Crowley snorts in a way that would be unattractive to almost anyone other than Aziraphale before he folds his newspaper in half and then half again, and casually tosses it onto the coffee table beside him. “You need to be a bit more subtle when you’re aiming for a temptation angel.” He adds with a quick wink before he rolls up onto his feet. AKA: Aziraphale has always wanted to go on a romantic evening walk round London to see all the Christmas lights. Now free of Heaven & Hell and able to openly express his feelings for Crowley, Aziraphale can't think of a better time to implement a plan nearly 40 years in the making.
A Dream Is A Soft Place To Land (may we all be so lucky) by randomramblingsofme (T)
Crowley feels as if the universe won't let him get his feet back under him. He has no plan, is juggling two jobs, coping with chronic pain from an old injury, expertly (so he thinks) hiding a raging crush on the bookseller across the street, and he is currently covered in tree sap. But things could be worse. For example, he could forget all about the Whickber Street Christmas party being hosted by said crush until five minutes beforehand. Oh shit. --- Modern AU, Barista Crowley/Bookseller Aziraphale
Eggnog and Effervescence by RepQueen15 (T)
Crowley turned so as to be able to watch the rest of the movie, and his ear pressed against Aziraphale’s thigh. He felt the angel tremble a little, as though this weren’t just some small service to him either, though that was nothing short of ridicule. Or perhaps…? No. This was just Aziraphale being his perfect, soft self. Though maybe, just maybe, Crowley wasn’t the only one who needed a little more physical contact in his life. *** Crowley and Aziraphale spend a quiet Christmas Eve putting up fairy lights, getting tipsy on eggnog, watching ridiculous Christmas movies and... cuddling.
Here’s a Hand (My Dearest Friend) by perilit (T)
Wherein Crowley allows himself to be comforted in the days leading up to the Christmas holiday, and repays with some comforting of his own.
I’m Dreaming of a Light (and Dark) Christmas by cheeseplants (T)
Aziraphale had begun plotting his revenge a few days after the encounter with the man he had begun to refer to as the demon in his head. Not that he was a vengeful person. He was a good and righteous person who believed it was important to bring light into people's lives. Lights, in fact. Several of them. _______ Two shopkeepers with very different ideas about Christmas battle it out on Whickber Street to create the most extravagant Christmas lights in London. But when the lights go out, they start to find they may have more in common than they first thought. An enemies to lovers human-AU Christmas decorations feud!
If the Fates Allow by catherineland (T)
Crowley makes a shocking discovery: Aziraphale claims to hate Christmas. Crowley’s new mission is to show his angel what he’s been missing.
- Mod D
195 notes · View notes
liyawritesss · 3 months
Note
Hey! If you're requests are open I'd love to read how a meeting between the reader and 1610 Miles at a party would go. Love your writing!
ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ
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Characters: Spiderverse!1610!Miles Morales x Black!GN!Reader
Genre: Headcanons
Synopsis: At another one of Rio’s rooftop parties, there’s a new face among the crowd. How would Miles take to meeting a new friend at a party?
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff we all deserve !!
A/N: Still slowly but surely getting back into the swing of things! A lot has been going on recently that has affected my motivation and ability to write, but I’m still here and still very present in all the fandoms i’m in, so don’t be shy to send in those requests!
Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed @romiantic @onlyperc @starsoirees @yasminisbroke @asensitivecookie @kdyance @sussybaka10 @famedrs-blog @milesismyhubby @foreclosure--of--a--dream @ykimobessed @soilmayo @edgyficuselastica @coffeeandtealol @moon-bo-young @imtoofineforthisworld
Sign Up For My Taglist Here!
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I often imagine in these kind of situations, because Miles doesn’t have many friends, he’s often either off to the side somewhere just jamming to the music on his own, or the little cousins are absolutely hounding him for some form of entertainment. There is no in between lol. But for this, lets refer to the formerly mentioned, and say this also takes place after the trilogy fiasco.
Like said previously, he doesn’t have many friends. The friends he does- or, did have, he can’t ever really see again. Maybe he’s got his cousins the talk to, and he of course has Ganke on speed dial, but other than that, Miles definitely feels more alone than ever at these parties.
A new face coming around would be met with a bit of apprehension. He doesn’t know how he should approach you. Should he introduce himself first? Wait til your parent(s) do? Should he offer you something from the food table? Start the conversation about the mix the DJ is playing? You definitely see the thoughts flashing across his face, and it’s only when you’re in front of him that his mind completely halts he lets a strained ‘hi’ come from his lips, a sheepish smile on his face and his heart racing because he probably looks like an idiot right now-
Turns out, you’re the kid of yet another family friend - can never have too many of those am i right? - who’s just as lost as he is, just as nervous and out of touch as he is. Maybe you don’t want to be here, maybe you aren’t sure why you had to come in the first place. But Miles’ first act of kindness to break the awkward silence is to awkwardly shuffle his feet, reach into his pocket to pull out his earbud case, and offer one up to you with a sheepish “do you like rap music?’
You both sit for a minute as you shuffle through his music playlists - he’s kind of nervous cuz he hopes you’re not judging his music taste, but when he sees you bobbing your head to the beat, it gives him some relief. After some time with this, one (or both) of your stomach rumbles and the food table is suddenly calling your name. Miles leads you to it so that he can tell you all that’s laid out. He himself eagerly grabs a small plateful of alcapurrias de Yuca (stuffed Yuca fritters) and tostones (double-fried plantains). He makes a point to point out some foods you may like - there’s a wide array of them, no thanks to his mom and aunties who always make sure the party table is always filled with foods from home.
Remember that scaffolding under the water tower for that building that was shown in the movies? Yeah, he takes you up there. Partially because the music is too loud to hear his own thoughts now, but also because he now sees you as someone cool and potential friend, and wants to get to know you better. Maybe it’s also the looming eyes of his mom that seemingly tell him to at least try and make friends with (especially someone they know, all things considered). And that’s where you guys chill out for the remainder of the party. You share socials, send each other titktoks or instagram reels, and make sure to exchange contact info to keep in touch. I think that throughout all of this, despite the anxiety that always comes with meeting someone new, Miles is forever grateful that he’s gained a new friend, and he definitely can’t wait to hang out with you more!
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If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request! Reminder, if you aren't tag, Tumblr may not be letting me tag you :c womp womp.
153 notes · View notes
leighsartworks216 · 7 months
Note
I love how you write for Astarion, my request is (as long as your comfortable with it) Tav tends to have nightmares from a past sexual assault, one that they've opened up and told Astarion about once their relationship became more official and he opened up. One night, Tav wakes up with a scream bolt upright in their bedroll, hyperventilating. Everyone comes to check on them, but it's Astarion who realizes what's going on immediately coming to their aid and comforting them.
I did not really reference what the dream was about, but I did imply it was about somebody who hurt Tav/Reader in a few lines
This is also my first time writing any of the companions besides Astarion so I hope I did okay with them lol
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: panic attack, ugly crying, protective Astarion
Word Count: 704
Main Masterlist
Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
The scream shatters the quiet of the night. Everyone rushes toward the sound, weapons drawn and spells at the tip of their tongues. They find no monster, no animal, no criminal - only their leader, sitting up in their bedroll, sobbing uncontrollably.
Astarion is the first to recognize what’s happened. He rushes from his tent to your side, hands held in front of him though not touching you. His face is serious, eyes focused on you with an intensity he shared with no one else.
“It’s alright, darling,” he coos as calmly as he can. “Do you hear me? You’re safe.”
Your whole body shakes. A cold sweat soaks your sleep clothes and sticks your hair to your head. Your breaths come in rapid, shallow. You don’t look at him. The spawn isn’t even sure you see him. Perhaps all you perceive him as is the monster of your past.
He slowly takes your hand in his, loose enough that you could pull away with no resistance. You almost do - until your eyes, wide and teary and fearful, meet his. Whether it is fear of the monster you see in his face or a desperate plea for help, he can’t tell. “Can you hear me, dove? You’re alright. You’re safe.”
Gale dashes over with a canteen of water. Karlach drops her battle axe in favor of rushing to your side. Shadowheart starts kneeling by your side, hoping she can provide any help. Wyll is just starting to approach when Astarion nearly growls and waves them all away with a hand. “Go away! Give them space!”
“They’re-!”
“Not physically injured,” he barked at the cleric. “They’re panicking. Back. Up.”
Shadowheart frowns, but she gets up and backs a few paces away. Gale drops the water by Astarion and retreats. Karlach has to be stopped by Wyll - too blinded by her worry to register how angry Astarion is. Lae’zel watches on, weapon still drawn.
Your eyes have been fixed on him the whole time. The sneer drops once they’re far enough away from you.
“It’s alright, dear, just breathe.” He pulls your hand to his chest. There’s no heartbeat, but, though he doesn’t need to, he makes a show of breathing deeply. His lungs and chest expand with each breath. “Come on, love, breathe with me. You’re safe.”
His words finally seem to reach you. You wheeze and choke as you force your breathing to slow down and follow his. He’s sure his heart would have stuttered with relief if it still beat. “That’s it. That’s it.”
The entire camp is anxious as they watch on. It takes much too long before you’re beginning to breathe normally. Your face is red and wet and snotty from crying, but you don’t have the energy or presence to care. Nobody else does, either.
“You’re safe,” Astarion repeats for the up-teenth time. He squeezed your hand gently. “Nobody is going to hurt you. Alright?”
You shakily nod. The fact you could answer eased his concern immensely. The haze of your nightmare finally lifted. You were now all-too-aware of your sweat-drenched body, of the tears on your face, and of everyone else watching your breakdown. You sighed, sapped of energy. “I’m sorry,” you croaked.
“Don’t you dare,” he chastises immediately.
You sniff as you lean forward, dropping your head against his shoulder. He’s not wholly comforted with the knowledge that snot was getting on his shirt, but, he supposed, it was better than leaving you to suffer. He’d be cleaning it first light, though. He wraps an arm around your back and tangles his other hand in your hair. Your hand falls from his chest and around his waist, where you weakly hang on to the fabric of his shirt.
Over your shoulder, Astarion nods to the others. They’re reluctant to leave, but if they stay they risk being yelled at by him again. Karlach is the last to leave. She gives him a pointed look - silently telling him that she demands answers in the morning - and he nods, if only to get her to leave you alone.
“You’re alright, dear. I’m here.”
“Don’t leave,” you whimpered into his shoulder.
He stroked your hair. “I won’t,” he promised. “I’m right here.”
---
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
AYO CONGRATS ON 3K!! love ur blog and ur writing and u immensely.
(tbh i have this irrational fear of making requests even if people are like "make a request pls" but i saw ur post and literally u don't have to tell me twice. for future reference blink twice if u want to hear every single thought of mine ever.)
spacey jane: james potter + you're here, that's the thing by beabadoobee
"i've got you wrapped around my finger like a piece of ribbon, you just won't admit it that you're smitten"
𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 — 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
thank you thank you!!!! please omg request whatever yo whenever you want. i love all requests i get and appreciate them so so much. omg.
summary — james let’s you take him home when he’s drunk. james’s friends think he’s whipped.
warnings/tags — fem!reader, drunk!james
You can hear him before you see him. It’s not out of the ordinary for him to be loud, you know that too well. You follow the noise from the front door all the way to the sitting room.
You’re not sure what you and James are. He’s not your boyfriend. But, he calls you sweetheart and he kisses your cheek sometimes when you want him to. He invites you places with his friends but spends the entire time with you. He gets you flowers, not ones from the florist on his street, ones he finds when he walks to your house that he says remind him of you. He visits you with lunch during your breaks when you’re studying. He gets two of the same, but no meat in yours because he knows you don’t eat it. And sits and eats with you, listening to everything you have to say about how school is going.
But despite those things, he’s not your boyfriend.
But when he sees you for the first time tonight, and his face lights up more than you’d hoped it would because you’re really trying not to get ahead of yourself, you sort of wish he was your boyfriend.
“Y/N!” he cheers, still loud. Still very hearty.
“Hey,” you smile. You try to direct it around the room. You really like his friends and you don’t want to play favourite. Even though you’re definitely softer on him than the others. You’ve never kissed Remus on the cheek because you fancy him.
You sit on the arm of the sofa he’s at and try not to act too affected when he sets his hand on your thigh. His palm flush with the hem of your shorts.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. It’s more of a slur. Words sticky with intoxication. His face is flushed and you fight the urge to press your fingers into his warm skin.
“I’m your lift,” you remind him. Like you hadn’t spoke on the phone no less than an hour ago.
“Y/N!” he’d yelled down the line. “Y/N, could you pick me up tonight?”
“Yeah, of course, James.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. I owe you one.”
You didn’t have the guts to say it, but you’d do anything for him if he asked.
“Oh, right,” he laughs, attention turned back to the plastic cup in his hands. He swigs whatever’s in it. “We’re playing strip poker.”
Everyone’s still clothed. You think maybe they haven’t started yet.
“Wanna play?” Sirius asks, shuffling a deck of cards. He looks almost as drunk as James. Remus and Emmeline look like they’re on their way to join them.
“Shut the fuck up, Pads,” James groans. He might be blushing. You might also be imagining it.
“What?” he snorts.
“She doesn’t want to play.” James sits up in his chair, sniffing, he adds, “neither do I, really.”
“It was your idea!”
“Whatever.”
You don’t want to play. If James Potter were to ever see you naked, you don’t want it to be with his friends as well.
James sips from his drink again to occupy his mouth. If you weren’t here, he might’ve said what he really wanted to say to Sirius. Something he usually does when it’s just the two of them.
He spills the majority of his drink down the front of his lovely red shirt. You take it from his hands, wiping the mess from his cheeks. James sits and lets you do it with no problems.
“Can we do shots?” Sirius asks. You glare at James’s friend. A look that reads your friend is off his face and you want to do shots?
“Yes!” James cheers through a hiccup. You stable a hand on his back.
While Sirius gets up to go find shot glasses, you lean down to whisper into James’s ear. “Do you want to go home?”
James stops splashing around his drink in his cup to look at you. “Maybe,” he says, blinking slowly. You think it’s quite adorable. “Do you?”
“Only if you do.”
“I am feeling a bit sick.”
And he wanted to do shots. “Yeah?” you ask, squeezing his shoulder. “You can stay at mine if you want.” You only suggest it because you live close by.
James grins. “Can I do a shot first?”
“I don’t think so, baby.” You run a knuckle over his flushed cheek. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.”
You don’t mean to be that girl that steals the boy they’re talking to away from a party. But you think if he drinks anything else he might be sick. He needs water and a bed.
When Sirius gets back you’re helping James from the sofa, hand held through his. He wobbles and you stable him with a hand behind his back.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Sirius asks.
“Home,” James tells him. “Well, not really. I’m going to Y/N’s house.”
“As if. It’s 9pm on a Friday.”
“Sirius, fuck up,” James argues. “I’m going to a girls house and you’re gonna get over it.”
“You’re drunk, Y/N won’t touch you.”
You balk. “I’m gonna clean him up and put him to bed.”
James grins boyishly. “She’s gonna put me to bed.”
“God, you’re fucking whipped, mate.” Sirius finds it hard to act incensed over his friends happiness. It’s still fun.
“Shut up. Go finish reading that book Moony told you about.”
Sirius blushes. Grumbling all the way back to his seat. “Moons, my best friend sucks.”
James forgets about the idea of shots as soon as he gets into your car and you keep your hand held in his when you can the entire drive to yours. He won’t let anyone know how much he loves getting doted on by you at your house. He might get drunk a little more often, he thinks, if there’s a chance you’ll wash his face and help him into your bed.
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fatuifucker · 1 year
Note
ah ok! then can my trans scara request be in the catboy au pls? maybe for one of the camshows proposed by mr. zhongli :3 👉👈
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soft dom trans! camboy! catboy! scaramouche x sub trans! fem-sex reader (he/him and masculine pronouns used for reader, no mention of breasts but mention of pussy)
WARNINGS = smut, penetration (reader + scara receiving), toys (vibrator + double-ended dildo + nipple clamps + buttplug + leash), livestreaming, role reversal, praise, pet play, use of "master" + "kitty" as pet names, use of word "cunt"
W/C = 1.2k
A/N = uhhhh i forgot how to write dom scara tbh LMAO also been wanting to write about double dildos for a while, don't really see a lot of content fot it hehe shoutout to @child-of-plut0 for watching my stream as i wrote this
TAGS = @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun, @ember-is-clueless, @huboi, @nejibot, @yumixxn, @edenialucas, @voidkinnie
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Senses deprived. Blinded by black silk over your eyes. Body exposed. Cold all over, yet so hot, hot, hot down there. It’s inflaming, engulfing. You should be ashamed but you’re not. In fact, you’re ecstatic. Other than the buzzing of the vibrator stuffed inside you, the only sound that fills the silent space is the familiar, silvery voice of one of your catboys.
“Today’s a special occasion, so I wanted to try something fun,” you hear a chuckle, followed by a click. “Hehe, yes, these all look interesting, don’t they?”
You tune out most of the conversation, every word he speaks to the audience a bleary fog to the oversaturating exhilaration that floods your body and brain. Left gasping for air, your moans serve as music for the viewers; hundreds of them all watching you writhe, tied to the bed as you await for Scaramouche’s touch.
“Let’s see…the double-ended dildo? Hehehe, an excellent choice.”
There’s shuffling, and you heave when the pleasure comes to a halt. More shuffling, followed by the warmth of hands, and the constricting binds around your wrists are finally lifted. Another warm touch — this time, his lips — presses against your temple as Scaramouche sits you up, the bells on your collar and nipples jingling with the movement
“Can you still go on? Or do you need a rest?” he whispers in your ear. Despite the abrasive tone, there’s a hint of concern under it — one you have come to associate with the headstrong catboy you know and love. 
You nod. “Yes, I’m—”
He tugs on the leash attached to your collar, cutting you off. His breath tickles your ear, the low, domineering timbre making you quiver. “Need I remind you of my order? How are you supposed to refer to me?”
“Y-yes, Master,” you gulp.
A role reversal. That was what you consented to. To be filmed for one of his camshows, and to be his pet.
His catboy.
Even if you are blindfolded, you can practically see the evident smirk on his face. “Good boy.”
Your chest palpitates at the pet name. The chat must have said something humorous, for you feel Scara’s chest rumble as he laughs. Carefully, he slips the vibrator out of your hole, while you stifle back a whine at the emptiness. He hushes you, digits tracing your labia as it picks up some of your essence. It appears he’s lathering something with your fluids. You don’t get to ponder over it for long before he makes his next demand.
“Spread your legs. Put one of them up like this.” He helps you into his desired position, on the account that your sense of sight is severely restricted. There’s the shifting of sheets, and then something wet touches the outer lining of your pussy. “Move with me.”
You share twin whimpers as Scara pushes the dildo inside you, at the same time the other side enters him. He lets out a shaky moan as he starts grinding, with you following suit. Your hole clenches around the rubbery dildo, tensing up when you slide against the ribbed edges. It’s intimate, sharing a cock with your mated one. To watch your catboys doing this live is thrilling. To experience it yourself is an entirely different thing.
“That’s it, just like that,” he rasps. “Faster…faster!”
Your thighs burn but fuck do you care when it feels so damn good. Faster, faster, faster. You need to please Scara. You need to please your Master. You need to be a good catboy for him. He seems to have noticed your renewed enthusiasm for he reaches out and strokes you behind your fake cat ears.
“Good boy, good boy,” he purrs. “My good little catboy.”
Synchronised in this hypnotic rhythm, your hips move in tandem; chasing, chasing, chasing after this riveting gratification. You’re lost in this blind lust, lost in a void of darkness, but he guides you by taking your hand in his, providing you with stability and keeping you grounded. In truth, he’s doing his duty as your supposed master. He’s firm and controlling, but not in a bad way. Maybe he gets it from your example, which gives you a bit of relief.
“Mm…hm? You want us to change positions?” Scara mumbles lazily, stopping his movements. “Ugh, fine, how’s this?”
Scara lets go of you. He adjusts his body, manoeuvring you with him so that you’re laid on your back, with him above you. From inference, you guess your ass is positioned in front of the camera. Perhaps to give the audience a view of the cat tail plug lodged in your asshole. Hot air brushes against your neck and then— he plunges into the other end of the dildo in a single motion, his pussy slapping against yours in a wet smack. Scara furiously pounds himself against the dildo, slamming against your dewy cunt with every turn until you’re left speechless, nothing but moans spilling out of your weary lips. His teeth clings onto every expanse of skin you offer to him, leaving marks on your neck, collarbone, chest; everywhere. For once, he seems to have forgotten about the camera, the viewers, the livestream. His focus is on you, on your pleasure, for your attention to be on him, him and only him.
“Mmm you’re doing so good kitty…so, so good for me,” he growls, sandpaper tongue swiping up the sweat stuck to your neck. “Such a good boy…”
The bells on your nipple clamps jingle as he sucks on the buds. He doesn’t care that the audience can’t see, you would have to lecture him on it later, he just wants to make you feel good. To see your reactions, to know that you want him.
Every slam, every collision of his pussy against yours makes you throb, walls clinching onto the rubbery dick as if sucking on it to keep your sanity. The brief friction of his clit against yours makes your cunt pulse, and you swear you have forgotten how to breathe when all the blood rushes to your head and the rapid thumping of your heart reverberates through your skull.
“Fuck, fuck— I’m close too, argh, shit shit shit shit!”
“Oh god, Master, Master! I’m so close, I’m close, I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum—” you cry.
Scara mewls as the both of you reach your peak, sharp nails digging into your shoulders as his body twitches, hole contracting and expanding around the cock. His thighs tremble as he nearly collapses on you, barely holding himself up with his arms. You immediately notice, wrapping your arms around his back to support him. He shows his appreciation by licking your face, purring as you pet his soft ears. If you weren’t blindfolded, you would have seen the comments cooing at his tail, swishing back and forth in contentment. He suddenly recalls that he is streaming, and gets off you to look through the comments, slightly wincing at the sensitivity.
“You wish you could see our faces? Too bad, bleeeeh!” Scara sneers, and you know with absolute certainty that he’s sticking out his tongue in mockery.
“Mochi, behave,” you scold him, finding satisfaction in the squeal he makes when you tug on his tail.
“Hey! You can’t do that to your master!”
“Really? Weren’t you the one who said that cat hybrids have a right to discipline their masters when they…what’s the word you used? ‘Are being a little brat’ was it?” you tease.
“Bratty?! I’m bratty?! You—”
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