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munsonsmixtapes · 2 months ago

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Billy Doesn't Know

virgin!Eddie x experienced!fem!reader

summary: You and Billy have been hooking up and it isn't until you sleep with Eddie that you realize what you really like.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) grinding, sub!Eddie, dom!reader, Billy just generally being a dick but that’s not new, use of pet names all by reader (baby and good boy) hurt/no comfort

100% based on the song "Scotty Doesn't Know" by Lustra

part two

You pull up to Billy’s house, for some reason dreading seeing him. You don’t know why, though. You’re kind of over him and his attitude, but there’s something that keeps you coming back. You feel a pit forming in your stomach as you head up the steps to the house. You honestly feel so sick and you know exactly why. You’re becoming tired of Billy and the kind of guy he is and have wanted to break things off for a while. That’s the whole reason why you’re there, but you’re contemplating turning around and heading back home.

You’re scared to tell him the truth. You’re afraid of what he might do, especially when he finds out why you’re breaking things off with him. Not only is he a complete dick to not only you, but everyone around you, but you’ve also just gotten bored of him. Well, that and you’ve found someone else. Someone who you knew actually wanted to be with you, unlike Billy.

As soon as you knock on the door, it’s ripped open and you’re pushed against it just like always. You don’t even know what he’s doing, that’s not why you’re there and he knows it. His hand reaches for the buttons of your jeans anyway and you’re quick to stop him.

“Wait,” you put your hand on top of Billy’s, preventing him from going further. He pulls back to look at you, frustration clear on his face which isn’t uncommon for him. It seems like he always has some sort of stick up his ass.

“What,” he spits. There’s a fire in his eyes, and not the one you’re used to, this look is murderous and for once, you’re not scared. God forbid Bill doesn’t get what he wants for once.

“Can’t we just talk?” He lets out a laugh at that, moving away from you completely. Talk? The only kind of talking that Billy does is dirty talk.

“Talk,” he laughs harder. “We don’t talk. We either fuck or we don’t.” That’s something that bugs you about Billy. He never wants to just have a conversation like a normal person. He’s always quick to try to fuck you. And even when he does talk to you, it’s always got sexual undertones and you don’t like that. The more you think about it, the more you realize that he doesn’t really have any redeeming qualities. Sure, he’s stupidly hot and knows how to fuck, but that’s pretty much it. He doesn’t have anything else going for him and that’s so disappointing to you. He could do and be so much more, but he’s not and he won’t. He’ll just continue to be a pig for the rest of his life.

“Well, right now I don’t want to.” That strikes a nerve and you can see it. If there’s one thing that he hates is being told no. Especially when it comes to being denied sex. Because the only person Billy cares about is Billy. He’s way too in love with him to think that anyone could possibly hate him.

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” He moves over to the back of the couch. He wants the word to hurt you, but it doesn’t. He’s called you that so many times that it’s lost all of its meaning.

“Well, so are you,” you retort and you swear you can see his lips twitch, wanting to say something but he holds back for whatever reason. “You can’t just make me fuck you, Billy.” He could, but he’s not going to do that. Because as much of an absolute dick Billy could be, he’d never fuck a woman without her consent.

“Get the fuck out,” he points to the door, but you’re still standing there, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Fine.” You turn to leave, but he speaks up before you can.

“Hey,” he says and you turn around, hoping for an apology, but you know you’re not going to get one.

“What,” you snap, angry at him for being mad at you since you didn’t do anything wrong. But Billy will say differently. Hell tell you that you should have just fucked him, but that makes you even more angry. Maybe one of these days you’ll actually have the guts to leave him for good.

“There’s a party at Nancy’s on Saturday and we’re going.” Billy is always wanting to crash people’s parties but that’s where you draw the line. No way are you letting him crash your friend’s party. And no way are you bringing him as your plus one. You’re going to this alone. And maybe you’ll fuck someone in the Wheeler’s guest bedroom just because you can.

“Nancy doesn’t like you.” Nancy really doesn’t like him. She even told you not to bring him.

“But she likes you and I’m your plus one.” You hate that he just claims things like that. Giving you no say in the matter. You don’t like being told what to do.

“You hate everyone who’s going to be there. You just want the free booze and to fuck someone in the Wheeler’s guest bedroom.” You’re right and Billy doesn’t like that you know him so well. He doesn’t like how close you’ve gotten. If he was in his right mind, he’d tell you that he didn’t want to see you anymore. And he should, but he doesn’t because he can’t.

“Right on the money, doll. You’re not as dumb as you look.” He’s told you the exact opposite on multiple occasions so now you know he’s just trying to get under your skin. He loves pissing you off. It always makes him unbelievably hard and now he’s going to have to rub one out when you leave.

“Fuck you, Billy.” He doesn’t like that the words sting as much as they do. They feel like a stab to the heart, especially since they’re coming from you. Especially since it’s his fault you’re acting like this.

“Oh, but you already have,” he winks, taking another drag. You should’ve known he was going to respond like that. He’s always thinking dirty. Sex is always on his mind. “Now get out.”

“Oh, so you can call one of your other hookups?” He won’t and you know that. He’ll just jack off to the thought of nothing but you.

“Yep,” he collapses onto the couch. “you’re boring me.” He takes another cigarette from his jacket pocket before lighting it and taking a drag. “I’ll just call Stacy or Jackie.” He blows the smoke into the air and you stand there, trying to not look so pissed off even though both know he’s full of shit.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just leave then.” You give him one last chance to make it up to you, but he seems pretty stubborn tonight.

“Good.” He doesn’t even bother to look up at you. “We’re done here.”

“Fine.” For once, you’re actually glad he’s kicking you out. You can’t stand to look at him anymore as all it does is make you angry.

“You’re getting the weed,” Billy tells you as he tosses a twenty dollar bill your way. Ever since the two of you had gotten close, you had been the designated person to buy the weed and whatever other drug Billy wanted for the party he was going to. You haven’t even actually been invited and he still expects you to help him out just because the two of you are sleeping together.

“Why me?” You asked as you stuff the cash into your bra even though you know exactly why.

“Because you’re hot.” It’s more than that, though. But you don’t want Billy to know exactly how Eddie feels about you. That will just create a mess and you don’t want to give Billy yet another reason to hate Eddie. “And that freak always sells it to you for significantly less than it’s worth.”

He’s already been calling him a freak just like the rest of Hawkins and you don’t understand why they’re all so horrible to him. He seems to just be misunderstood.

“Or it’s because Eddie doesn’t like you and refuses to sell to you because you’re a dick.” That’s very true, you had heard the words from the metal head himself and don’t blame him one bit for it.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he spits, standing from the couch and grabbing hold of your arm. It’s moments like this when you wonder why you’ve been spending so much time with him. You want to cut ties, but you’re scared of what will happen if you try. It’s not unlike Billy to get violent when things don’t go his way.

“Or what?” You spit back. “You know you won’t hurt me so I don’t even know why you try to threaten me.”

“The party’s at seven. Be ready. And wear something slutty.” You know exactly what’s going to happen next. Billy’s going to pick you up tomorrow and you’re going to act like nothing happened. That’s what you always do. You don’t have it in yourself to stay mad at him for long. Especially when he can be so sweet sometimes.

“I’m actually going alone.” You emphasize the word to piss him off but he couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. At least, that’s what he’s telling himself. “So have a good night, Billy. And while you’re falling asleep alone tonight, remember that this is your fault. It’s always your fucking fault.”

Really, the only reason why you’ve stuck around for so long was because of Max. She had become like a little sister to you and you felt the need to protect her from her older brother. You’ve seen just how horribly he’s treated her since he didn’t seem to mind yelling at her in front of you. Some days, you’ll come over just to spend time with her. When Billy’s at work, you’ll take her out for ice cream or shopping, just so she knows that she has someone who was on her side.

“Get out,” he says, letting go of your arm and pointing towards his front door. Of course you had angered him. It seems like he always has a temper of some sort. You know where it comes from, but still don’t think he deserves to treat you or anyone else like that. And you make sure to let him know that, not afraid to stand up to him if you have to.

“Gladly.” You head towards the door and pull it open, making sure to slam it once you go through it.

You mutter to yourself all the way to your car, even as you’re getting in it. Once inside, you turn on the ignition and the music from the station you had turned it to blasts through the speakers and you feel like your ears are ringing because of how loud it is.

Once the shock wears off, you turn the volume down and open your glove box, on the hunt for one of your mix tapes. Once you find one, you flip it over and notice that it has your name scrawled across it with the number three next to it in the messy handwriting you’ve become so familiar with.

You put it in and turn up the volume as you nod your head to the song, absentmindedly heading in the opposite direction of home. You don’t want to go there just yet. And before you know it, you’re pulling into the all too familiar trailer park, parking once you pull up to the trailer with the familiar van outside it.

You’re still angry at Billy so you’re not sure why you’re even there. You need to let off some steam, but you’re not sure that this is the place to do it. You’re not even sure that Eddie would be into what you’re thinking. He was just a friend after all and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by telling him that you wanted to fuck him nor the fact that you had been crushing on him for quite some time.

But you get out of the car anyway, heading to the door and knocking on it. A string of curse words can be heard from the other side, followed by a very loud “shit!” and a loud clatter. You step away from the door as it opens and there’s Eddie on the other side, dusting off his jeans while simultaneously looking like he’s out of breath.

“Are you okay?” You ask as you step closer to him, reaching out to touch him, but he backs away. He can’t let you do that without wanting more. He wants to kiss you, maybe even more. Definitely more, but he’s not going to do anything about it. He can’t. Not if he wants to keep you as a friend. And it’s not like you’d want to fuck Eddie “the freak” Munson anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just tripped.” He doesn’t want to tell you that he watched your car pull up from the window in his living room, hoping that you had been there for him even though he knows you aren’t. Because he’s just your dealer and nothing else. That’s all he ever is and that’s all he ever will be. It all just makes sense that way in his mind.

Eddie’s not the kind of guy people marry or date. He’s the kind of guy people fuck just to get it out of their systems then swear him to secrecy because they’re too embarrassed to tell anyone that they’ve actually fucked him. Not that he’s fucked anyone anyway. And it’s not by choice, it’s just-who would want to do all that with him? He’s a freak, a nobody in everyone’s eyes and he hates that he thinks that badly of himself but he can’t help it.

But if he’s being honest, though he’d never admit it, you’re the only one he’d want to be his first. He knows you’d be nothing but sweet and encouraging, but he’ll never bring the idea up to you. He can’t. It’s far too embarrassing and there’s no fucking way his shy, awkward self would ever get the guts to ask anyway. Not for lack of trying. He wants to, he wants to so badly, but how can he do that when everyone avoids him like the plague?

And he knows that you’ll run from the hills if you ask, terrified to ruin what the two of you have, your friendship having already become very important even though it had only been a few months. And he absolutely can’t risk losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He just can’t.

“Are you sure?” You ask, resting your hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze and Eddie swears he can feel the warmth of your skin through his shirt, hating himself because he’s wondering what they would feel like elsewhere-god, when had he become so needy for someone else in that department? His lotion, sock, and his hand usually did the trick, but now he kind of wants you to do it for him.

“I’m fine,” he steps away, fear very evident in those pretty brown eyes and now you’re really worried about him. You step closer and now you’re both in the kitchen and he’s backed up against the sink, really grateful that you can’t read his mind, because you surely would leave if you could.

Your hand reaches up and runs through his hair, giving his scalp a scratch and he leans into your touch, his eyes closing as he hums, loving the way it feels. He wants you to pull on it as he fucks into you hard and deep, the prettiest moans falling from your lips.

“What’s going on, baby?” You ask, your voice so soft and gentle and Eddie doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone as wonderful as you. “You’re not behaving like yourself.” He wants to lay it all out on the table right there, to tell you how crazy you’ve been driving him and just how often you’ve been the star of his late night fantasies, just how many wet dreams he’s had about you.

“I can’t tell you,” he says as his eyes open, turning his head to the side because he can’t look at your pretty face anymore, but your hands move to his cheeks, turning his head to face forward, but he still won’t look you in the eye.

“You can tell me,” you encourage, your voice still soft, trying your best to tread lightly. His eyes finally look into yours and you swear that his are misty. Your thumbs rub back and forth across his cheeks, trying your best to comfort him, trying to figure out what it is that he’s so upset about.

You press yourself against him and if you can feel his rock hard cock you don’t say anything. You just pull him into a hug, catching Eddie completely off guard but eventually, he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath and gets a whiff of your perfume that he immediately finds intoxicating.

You can hear him mumble something against your skin, but are entirely unsure what he had been saying, wanting him to repeat it. “What was that, baby?” You ask, your hand moving up to stroke his hair, but he doesn’t answer you, his face curling further into your neck as his hands crumple your shirt in his fists.

“You can tell me,” you assure him. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, especially not around me.”

He then pulls back to look at you, slowly, his embarrassment trying to take over but he chokes it down. He gulps then looks you right in the eyes, his boring into yours and now you’re on the edge of your seat, so interested in what he has to say.

“I-” he cuts himself off then takes a deep breath before starting again. “I want you to kiss me.” His voice is so low that you almost don’t hear him, but when you finally understand what he’s saying, you let out a laugh, and not because you thought it was funny but because you thought he was so goddamn adorable.

“You’re so cute,” you reply, your arms wrapping around his neck as you push yourself into him once again. “If you want to kiss me, then kiss me, baby.”

He stays quiet for a moment, pursing his lips as if he’s thinking. Then the words that follow truly shock you. “I don’t know how,” he says, his voice still small and god, you just want to pull him into your arms and hold them there forever in order to protect him. This was the guy that everyone was so afraid of? He was nothing but precious and you didn’t understand why the entirety of Hawkins seemed to hate him.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?” You ask in shock, moreso surprised that no one has wanted to kiss him. That’s something that isn’t computing in your head in any way shape or form. And thinking about the fact that he wants you to be his first warmes your heart. You’re nothing but honored.

“No,” he shakes his head before lowering it. You hate that he’s so embarrassed by it all. There’s no reason why he should be as everyone goes at their own pace and it’s not his fault that no one wants to kiss him. Well, no one except for you.

“Well I’d be honored to be your first,” you reply, watching those pretty brown eyes widen.

“You’d really kiss me?” He asks as if he can’t possibly conceptualize it. And he can’t. Up until now, everyone had made it clear that they wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole, that he’s a freak, that he’ll just end up alone.

“Of course I would,” you nod furiously, a wide grin on your face and Eddie’s convinced that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“What if I suck?” It’s so cute that he cares so much, wanting to make the experience enjoyable for you.

“You won’t,” you assure him. “Because I’m going to teach you.”

“But what about Billy?” The name makes you freeze, your blood already simmering, but not quite to a boil yet. Why does he care so much about Billy?

“What about Billy, Eddie?” the words come out more harsh than you anticipate and you find yourself feeling guilty as he leans back, afraid.

“Aren’t you two together.” You let out a loud laugh as if you genuinely find the whole thing funny. You and Billy? Billy couldn’t be a boyfriend if his life depended on it. He’s told you as much more times than you can count and you’re beginning to wonder why you ever wanted him to be that in the first place.

“Not even close. We just fuck sometimes.” There’s a feeling rising in the pit of his stomach and he’s unsure what it is. All he knows is that he hates that Billy is able to get into your pants whenever he wants, especially acts like-well, Billy. What’s so special about him, anyway? Why does he get all the girls when he acts like an asshole? Is that why Eddie’s unable to get any? Because he’s too nice?

“So you’re not-”

“Completely unattached,” you cut him off, leaning forward so that your lips ghost over his, brushing against them and Eddie’s eyes flutter shut and you let him take the lead, wanting him to do whatever he wanted, wanting him to feel comfortable.

His lips press against yours gently in a featherlight peck as his hands move to hold onto your arms, feeling his hands shake against the sleeves of your shirt and your heart is about to burst as how absolutely adorable he is. You think he’s going to deepen it but he pulls away before you’re ready, his hands still shaking like leaves.

Your eyes open and you can see the pink in his cheeks, his lips parting as if he’s going to say something and you know he wants to. He always wants to speak and you think that’s your favorite thing about him. You love that he talks to you differently from his other friends. That he feels like he can tell you things he’s afraid to tell other people.

“How was that?” He asks, chewing on his bottom lip as you subconsciously twirl one of his curls around your pointer finger.

“That was perfect,” you respond with a soft smile and watch his eyebrows furrow in confusion. You don’t know why he’s so confused. Consent is so important to you and you’d never want to do anything that made him uncomfortable.

“Can I-” he licks his lips as he pulls you closer. “Can I try again?”

“Of course you can,” you nod and he leans forward, his hands still gripping your shirt as he pulls you in. His lips capture your bottom one and just when you think he’s going to go for it, he pauses, his eyes wide as it finally hits him what he’s doing.

You take the lead now, your lips moving against his still ones as he stays frozen, his shoulders locked up right by his ears. But as he slowly follows you, he finds himself melting into you, realizing that it’s not nearly as complicated as initially thought. In fact, it’s so easy, especially when you’re doing a lot of the work.

Your lips are just as soft as he was hoping and he wonders what they taste like, what flavor the sticky lip gloss you’re wearing is. But can’t get himself to go for it, not yet. He just wants to kiss you for now, not quite ready for a makeout session for yet.

You pull away before he’s ready and he feels his cock twitch when he sees your lip gloss smeared, knowing that he was the one to make it look like that. He goes in for more but you’re quick to put your free hand against his chest to hold him back.

“Hold on,” you say. “I just want to tell you a few things before we continue.” He nods and waits for you to speak again. “First off, you need to breathe, baby. Can’t have you passing out on me,” you giggle. “And I don’t know why you were so nervous before. You’re a natural.”

You watch his cheeks blush, that bright red color that always makes you want to pinch them. Before you can register what he’s doing, he’s on you again, this time more rough, his hands clutching onto your shirt for dear life as he kisses you stupid, making you feel dizzy.

Your hands slide into his hair as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip and he slowly opens up, letting you inside. It tangles with his and you hear a loud moan fall from his mouth, feeling yourself getting even more wet. You grab onto his shirt and pull him even closer to you, backing the two of you out of the kitchen as your kisses get even more heated.

Your lips taste like that artificial strawberry flavor and even though Eddie hates that flavor normally, he can’t get enough. It’s intoxicating and he needs more, his tongue sliding into your mouth as your lips wrap around it, giving it a suck, pulling another delicious moan from his mouth.

You find yourself in the living room, your hands moving into his hair, giving it a tug, causing his head to fall back, giving you a perfect opportunity to press your lips to his jaw, moan after moan tumbling from his mouth as his legs start to feel like jello, causing him to fall onto the couch. You can see his cock tenting in his pants and you feel your slick trickling down your leg as you thought about having him deep inside you.

Before you can stop yourself, you straddle his waist as your lips find his, your hands grabbing hold of his own as you move them to your hips, your hands sliding into his hair again as you fingers dig into his scalp, taking what you want from him as he’s pliant under your touch.

You begin to grind against him and Eddie swears that he’s died and gone to heaven. And when your mouth lands on his neck and your lips suck on it-god, he’s going to come right there. He can feel it. He’s gonna let you do this all night if you want to, addicted to the feeling of your mouth on his neck.

And he really does come when your teeth scrape along the sensitive spot, a loud moan falls from his lips as he orgasms for another person for the first time. And god is this so much better than all of the dates he’s had with his hand.

“That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Just like that. You’re doing so good.” He’s realizing now that he has a major praise kink, wanting, needing you to do more of that.

“More,” he whines as you continue to grind against him, and that mixed with how you’re scandalizing his neck is making him overstimulated, but he hardly cares. He’s so high off of his orgasm that he doesn’t give a single fuck. In fact, he’ll let you do whatever you want to him, knowing that you’ll be gentle and caring the whole time.

“Relax, baby. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, hm?” You pull away from him, your lip gloss smeared all across your face now. Eddie’s pupils are blown wide as he stares up at you, his head tilting to the side like a little puppy, giving you a full view of the hickey forming on his neck. “Gotta be a good boy for me if you want your treat.”

“I can be a good boy,” he nods furiously as his eyes get even wider, wanting to do whatever he can to please you. “I can be such a good boy you have no idea.”

You continue to grind against as his fingers dig into the stripe of skin that had been exposed by your shirt riding up. Your hands move to the button of his jeans and you look up at him, making sure that it’s okay if you continue.

“Do it,” he nods. “I trust you.” You can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth, but you have to be sure. You’d hate it if he was only telling you that because you wanted it.

“You really want me to be your first?” You asked, your grinding coming to a halt as you looked him in the eyes, leaning closer to see if he was lying out not.

“More than anything,” he replies, the words coming out more desperate than he intended, his eyes pleading as he looks up at you. They’re now filled with lust and now you know he’s telling the truth so your hands unbutton his jeans as he removes his shirt, his tattoos on display. God, he’s even hotter than you imagined.

You remove yourself from him as his pants come off while you take off your socks and shoes, moving slowly as you catch how he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. And god do you want him to. To bury his head between thighs and eat you for dinner until the early morning so he could have you for breakfast and all the way to lunch and then for dinner again.

You then decide to give him a show, thinking that he’s earned a treat for being such a good boy. You begin stripping off your clothing as slowly as possible, starting with your pants, unzipping them then sliding them down your legs then tossing them to the side.

You then move on to your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before moving to stand in front of Eddie, pointing to the couch cushion.

“Lie back,” you tell him and he situates himself to lie against the cushions of the couch and you feel yourself getting soaked as straddle his waist, watching him underneath you. He’s so shy and cute and you feel honored that you’re the one he wants to take this big step with. “I just want you to know that just because you give consent doesn’t mean you can’t take it away. If I do something you don’t like or if you want to stop because you’re not ready. Don’t be shy to let me know. I want you to feel safe,” your hand reaches up and caresses his face. “I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I understand,” he nods. “I-I appreciate you being so gentle with me.”

“I’ll always be gentle with you,” you press a kiss to his lips. “Unless you as me not to,” you wink and swear you feel Eddie’s cock twitch against your cunt.

“Take it off for me, will you baby?” You ask and his hands move higher until they reach the back of your bra and you can tell he’s struggling but he eventually gets it, the bra falling between you, your tits on display. Eddie’s staring at them and you don’t have to ask to know what he’s thinking.

You remove yourself from him and hurry to your purse for a condom before taking off your panties and wait for him to do the same with his boxers. Once he’s fully naked, you can’t help but stare down at his cock, surprised by the sheer size of the thing. Who knew that Eddie Munon was packing? You certainly didn’t.

“You’re so big,” you say as your hand wraps around him and he lets out a gasp. “Think it’s all gonna fit?” You ask and Eddie just gulps. “I guess we’ll have to find out,” you smirk.

“Guess we will,” Eddie breathes and you let go of him, opening the condom and putting it on him before your hands rest on his shoulders as you get on top of him again, sinking slowly onto his cock, both of you letting out moans as you did so.

His hands move to your waist as you ride him slowly, not wanting to do too much too fast since it’s his first time. Yours had been nothing but perfect as it had been with Billy. You still remember it like it had just happened even though it had been over two years ago. He was nothing but rough, only wanting to fuck you because he was obsessed with taking your virginity. Like he had a point to prove. And in typical Billy fashion, he didn’t care in the slightest if you enjoyed it, only trying to fulfill his own sick fantasy and that was it.

But with Eddie, you wanted to make sure that it was something he enjoyed, something he looked back on fondly whenever it came to mind. And even if he didn’t enjoy it and asked you to stop, you still hoped it worked out with whoever he had his first time with.

He bucks his hips against yours and you can see on his face that he’s unsure if that’s what he’s supposed to be doing. But by the way you’re moaning and whining he thinks it is. He really doesn’t even know what he’s, just following what he had seen in movies and the occasional porn he had watched when he was sure that Wayne would be home late.

“That’s it baby,” you encourage. “Just like that, such a good boy.” Your words seem to unleash something in him because he’s bucking his hips as hard as he can, moving so fast that it’s hard for you to keep up. And it’s not because he wants to, not at all. It almost seemed like he had a point to prove, that he was trying to show you that he could do it hard.

“Hey, hey,” you push him against the cushions, trying to get his attention. “Slow down, hon. What’s your rush?”

“I just-” he cuts himself off, bringing himself back down onto the cushion, his eyes widening as he’s realized that he’s been caught. “I’m just trying to keep up with Billy, I guess.” He says the words lamely and his voice is so small that you swear you can hear your heart actually break.

“That’s what this is about? Eddie-” you try to gather your thoughts, one of your hands moving to stroke his hair. “Baby,” you sigh, lowering yourself onto him, resting your forehead against his. You feel a tear trail down your cheek and immediately wipe it away, not wanting him to see it, but he does anyway.

He wipes the other one that follows then pulls you in for a tender kiss, his hands moving up and down your back gently as a way to soothe you. You realize then that you’ve finally found someone who cares about you. That cares enough to try and fuck you the way that you like it.

“You’re so sweet,” you mumble against his lips before pulling away. “But that’s not how I like it.” Now you’re the one to shrink into yourself, feeling all of your feelings towards Billy piling up, eating away at you.

Your stomach twists and before you can stop yourself, you’re off of him, gathering your clothes and getting dressed at record speed, Eddie hurrying to do the same, but he can only be bothered to put on his boxers. He’s so confused and hurt that now he’s the one who’s crying. God, he’s fucked up again.

Eddie’s hot on your heels as you get to the door, snot now running down his nose because of how much he’s crying. Why is everyone always leaving him? He really thought you’d finally be the one to stick, but he guesses he’s wrong. You’re just going to go back to Billy. He knows what he’s doing, after all.

You hurry to your car and slam the door closed, hearing the mixtape he made for you blasting from the speakers. And just when he’s about to close the door, his eyes catch yours and even though he can’t see very well in the dark of the night, he swears that he can see you crying too.

He slams the door to his trailer shut then hurries to his room, making sure that door is closed as well before he throws himself onto his bed, throwing the covers over himself as he cries himself to sleep. He’s so hurt that that’s all he knows what to do when he feels pain. His dad always told him that crying was for pussies and now that he wasn’t around, he could cry as he damn well pleased.

So he stays like that for the rest of the night until he falls asleep, the events of the night replaying over and over as he tries to figure out what he had done wrong. He had done too much, that was for sure. He was just trying to do what he thought you liked and that caused you to leave. He had fucked up and fucked up bad. He knew that much. He was definitely going to remember his first time but not for the reasons he was hoping. He supposed that he really was just Eddie “the freak” Munson and that was something that would never change.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson hurt/comfort #virgin!eddie munson

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megwritesriddles · 3 months ago

Text

Heavenly Torture ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 11 - Teasing & Degradation. After Hogwarts, Reader and Neville end up working together at Noltie's Botanical Novelties. Reader soon discovers she holds an unexpected power over Neville, one she'll have fun exerting over him at her whim.

Tags: Teasing, Degradation, Oral sex (m receiving), Neediness, Begging, Virgin!Neville, Sub!Neville, Dom!Reader, Slytherin!Reader, Set post Battle of Hogwarts, Coworkers to lovers (??).

Word count: 4.8k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: I know I'm running a day behind right now, I'll try my best to catch up when I can (hopefully monday)!! Another day, another submissive pathetic man... lol!! Also why did this end up so long... all this backstory for what?? Why do I keep doing this?? Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Getting the job at Noltie’s Botanical Novelties, the garden shop on Diagon Alley, had been one of the most relieving moments of your life. Not only did you have an income secured, but they’d hired you despite you having been in Slytherin. It seems silly for you to have been worried about this, given that people are starting to heavily advocate against stereotyping based on houses, but that didn’t mean it had actually stopped happening. At the moment, Slytherins were quite radioactive. Less than a year out from the war, all Slytherins near your age were assumed to be Death Eaters who just escaped consequence based on their age. This, of course, was not true for most of you, and certainly not for you. You’d been on the right side from… well, perhaps not the start, it takes time to shake your upbringing, but probably from some time in the fifth year. However, most people only remembered you as a Slytherin, and that was a decidedly bad thing to be currently. You knew you should have made more appearances at Dumbledore’s Army meetings, but back then you were facing the same issue, avoiding the meetings because when you did go, people would be distrusting of you because of the colour of your tie. Now people barely remembered that you’d been a member at all. It was frustrating beyond belief, but you just had to keep going.

The job at Noltie’s was an undoubted blessing, just a few years ago it would have been a no-brainer for you to get the job, given your expertise, but this year it had truly felt like it wouldn’t happen for you. When you’d gone in to pick up your uniform about a week before starting, Edward Noltie himself had confessed to having been a Slytherin himself in his school days. You wouldn’t have guessed it, the kookie old man certainly reminded you more of the types that come out of Hufflepuff, but you told yourself to stop stereotyping, you had learned its inaccuracies over and over by now. It amused you slightly how much he tried to separate himself from the Slytherin label, only claiming the identity in the past tense, while most Gryffindors were likely to wear their Gryffindor scarves until at least their 200s. You thanked him anyway for his understanding, emphasising once again that you’d had no ties to the Death Eaters. As you were leaving with the bag containing your uniform, he stopped you.

“We actually have another employee with us from your year group at Hogwarts, a very talented young man, instrumental in winning the war, we’re lucky to have him, really. Joined a few months ago,” Noltie chuckled. You smiled and nodded awkwardly over your shoulder. You knew exactly who he was referring to.

There’d never really been any doubt in your mind that Noltie had been talking about Neville Longbottom, but the suspicion is confirmed immediately on your first day. You walked in, hair neatly up as was required (less for aesthetic reasons and more for safety against the various plants stocked that had a tendency to thrash), your uniform tailored to fit you perfectly, and saw him behind the counter. You had been dreading this moment since you realised you’d be working with him. You knew what he’d say to you, how he would call you brave for going against your house, how much he appreciated your efforts during the war, things like that, and you couldn’t be bothered to listen to it. You just wanted to stop thinking about the war, and all the things you’d had to do to survive, but it seemed too much to ask. You took a deep breath and approached him and he did just that. With a serious and sympathetic expression, he began to thank you and commend you. He stared quite intensely at you as he spoke, which made you admittedly uncomfortable, your eyes flickered around the store as he spoke.

“We barely had any Slytherins in the D.A. and I know some people gave you a hard time about it, so I think it’s–” he continued in his solemn voice. You squirmed in discomfort and decided to cut him off.

“Look, Longbottom, all the same to you, yeah? You’re a war hero and all that, so… that’s great, congratulations! Can you show me how the till works now?” you huffed. He blinked in surprise at your little outburst, before flushing slightly, clearly having realised he’d made you uncomfortable in some way, even if he’d only been trying to compliment you.

“Sorry, err… yeah…” he cleared his throat, showing you over to the till on the counter at the back of the store. You walked in front of him toward it and when you turned back to face him, you saw his eyes flick up and his flush deepen a little. You realise with a start that he’d been looking at your ass as you walked. These uniform trousers really were tailored perfectly, so you were sure he’d gotten a good view. You just smiled to yourself and filed the information away for later as he started to explain the machine to you.

The next few weeks go surprisingly well. Sure, you’re only working the till and shop floor rather than actually doing any research or fieldwork, but at least you’re in your desired field, and the work is quite easy. The shop is never terribly busy, and the people who do come in like to spend a while browsing and contemplating, meaning you get to tell them all you know about the plants they’re deciding between, which you find quite fun. Neville works mainly in the backroom, counting stock, moving boxes, and maintaining the plants that can’t be kept on the shop floor because they’re too dangerous or require certain temperature conditions. You help with inventory, letting him know what’s running low on the shelves and making notes of what needs to be ordered for Mr Noltie. Mostly, you’re out of each other’s ways, but that doesn’t mean you’re not highly aware of each other.

You knew Neville had changed over the years, every girl who’d been at Hogwarts was aware of it. You remembered quiet nights while the D.A. had been hiding out in the Room of Requirement, when a bunch of the girls would get together for some girl talk, trying hard to feel a sense of normalcy. Lavender Brown’s idea, which initially seemed silly, actually raised spirits quite a lot. You joined in, even though people were still rather wary of you, being one of only two Slytherins in the room, you mainly listened because of this. The girls huddled together in one corner of the room, while the boys chatted about who knows what in the other, and gossiped about the boys. There was hardly time for romance in the conditions you were in, which is perhaps why so much of it was happening, forced to stay together in one big room and fearing for your lives, you had overheard a lot you wish you never had. Neville ended up being the subject of a few of these conversations. He had changed a lot, becoming taller, broader and more handsome. He had also taken the role of the leader of the D.A., and many of the girls admitted that they quite liked the authoritative voice he used, which made everyone tease and giggle. He was nothing like the timid little boy he’d been for the first few years at Hogwarts, he was a man now, a strong, handsome man. However, no one ever reported any sort of action with him like they did with the other boys. At the time, he became sort of untouchable, which was odd considering he was Neville Longbottom.

These days, he was looking even better. His face was no longer so marred by the constant scrunch of stress as it had been during the war. He’d grown out his hair a little, rather than keeping it quite as short as he had during the war. He overall looked healthier, and even more muscular now that he was able to eat properly, his skin looking less pale and dull. Days of moving and stacking boxes in the backroom gave you plenty of time to subtly watch his muscles. He really was handsome now, though he didn’t seem to even realise this himself. Occasionally, when he’d be bringing stock out front for you to shelve, there’d be a woman in the store who would begin to flirt with him. He always seemed baffled and out of his depth, never flirting back and just trying to escape.

“What was that all about?” he asks you once, poking his head out of the backroom when she leaves. This woman had come onto him particularly strong, trying to touch his arm and invite him to the Leaky Cauldron.

“She was flirting with you,” you chuckle, sorting the coins into the till. He scoffs.

“No, she wasn’t,”

“Yes, she was,” you laugh in disbelief. He chews his lip.

“Only because of what I did during the war,” he dismisses, fiddling with his wand in his apron pocket. It amuses you how insecure he is. But he is partially right, he’s become a bit of a celebrity in the wizarding world, thanks to Harry Potter’s insistence on mentioning Neville’s contributions every time he’s interviewed about the war. Sometimes you think it’s selfishly motivated, wanting the world to focus on someone other than him so he can be left alone, and dumping it on poor shy Neville.

“That could be true I suppose, but I bet she’d still let you shag her,” you grin at him. Neville splutters.

“I… I don’t…” he runs his finger through the collar of his shirt. You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying teasing him like this. “That’s not… I wouldn’t do that…” he swallows thickly.

You’d discovered quickly that you had a certain power over Neville. At first, it was catching him occasionally staring. You’d be leaning on the counter, your ass jutting out slightly as you scribble down inventory notes and you’d glance at the door to the backroom, spotting him peering through the glass door. He’d immediately blush beet red and look away, clearly ashamed to have been caught staring at you. It was sweet, in a way, because most guys didn’t seem to have any shame in ogling at you, at least Neville seemed to know he shouldn’t be doing it, even if he couldn’t stop himself. Slowly, you start leaving more and more of your shirt buttons undone, revealing glimpses of your cleavage. You revel in the way his eyes constantly stray to you as he brings you boxes, taking shaky breaths as you bend over to pick up the little plant pots from the box and organise them onto the shelves. Whenever you talk, you take to standing just a little too close. His height gives you a perfect view down your top, and although he tries his best not to, he takes advantage of this fact often, his eyes flicking down and then his face going red. You like to innocently ask him if he’s feeling warm, which makes him stammer. It’s a bit of fun to fill your days, and quite an ego boost too. Every quiet moment in the shop you take to showing yourself off somehow, or even just chatting to him, which seems to fluster him too.

“You wouldn’t shag her? I thought she was cute…” you tease. He goes a deeper shade of red.

“She’s… it’s not… uh…” he stumbles. You smile, leaning yourself onto the counter in a way you know shows off your ass. His eyes flick immediately down your body and he goes redder, success. “I don’t… shag…” he coughs, looking mortified.

“What? Never? But you’re the saviour of the wizarding world!” you taunt, pretending to be shocked, when really it had become abundantly clear not long into working with him that despite how much his looks had changed, and his confidence in every other area, women still made him unbearably anxious, especially you.

“I- I mean I…” he stutters and then straightens up. “This is none of your business,” he asserts shakily. You shrug.

“Just curious about you,” you smile flirtatiously, watching as he blushes once more and avoids your eyes. “Do you never want to shag? Some people are like that and it’s perfectly fine–”

“No! I… uh… I do want… oh Merlin!” he groans, burying his face in his hands. You press on, pretending not to realise how uneasy he is, delighting in his discomfort.

“Well, then what was wrong with that girl? She was cute… more than willing…” you taunt, taking a few slow steps toward him now.

“She just… it’s not… I can’t just…” he stammers, eyes following you until you’re right in front of him. You catch his eyes flicking down to your cleavage. You smile.

“Are you a virgin, Neville?” you ask bluntly. He twitches anxiously.

“I’m not answering that,” he squeaks, but you both know that it’s answer enough. He sighs, seeing the smug way you’re smiling at him. “It’s just… the only girl I’ve ever liked enough to do that with didn’t feel the same, she… never wanted to do that sort of thing with anyone… like you were just talking about,” he mumbles, avoiding your eye.

“Luna?” you hum. He just nods. You’d heard about that through friends, his wartime confession and her confession that she did not experience romantic or sexual feelings for anyone. To many people, it had seemed a completely foreign concept. You imagined that, even though he’d been understanding, it had probably felt like another blow to his confidence.

“It’s… that’s over now… she’s my friend and I respect her… I don’t feel that way about her anymore…” he rambles. His eyes flicker over your face. You believe him, you touch his arm, making him tense.

“You poor thing,” you coo gently, rubbing your thumb over the bare skin of his arm, feeling the muscle underneath. “You must feel pathetic, saviour of the wizarding world, women lining up, and yet you’re still a virgin,” he jolts slightly, not expecting your words. He feels confused, your tone is sweet and soothing, but your words are insulting.

“I- I don’t, I’m fine,” he stammers, his cheeks red as he looks at you cautiously. What are you playing at? You pout and tilt your head.

“Poor baby,” you coo again, making him nervous.

“Why are you–?” he cut off when the bell above the door jingles, signalling a customer entering. You pull your hand away with a teasing smile, he just stares a little dumbly at you as you return to the till and greet the customer. He can’t help his eyes from straying to your ass, perfectly hugged by your uniform trousers. He’s never felt this crazy before, this overtaken by lust. He wants you and something about your faux-pity has made it worse. He hadn’t felt this way about Luna, he’d liked her first and foremost, he never ogled her like this, never felt this maddened by her simple presence. He forces himself to return to his work in the backroom.

You torture him the rest of the day. He knows you’re playing at something, but he’s not quite sure what. You keep flashing him mockingly sympathetic glances, showing off your body more than usual, touching him. You’re making excuses to come into the backroom, you’ve never been in here so many times in one shift before, perhaps even ever. Leaning over his shoulders, touching his back, stretching up to the top shelves in front of him. He’s oblivious, but he’s not completely blind and while he’s suspected before that you might have taken to teasing him, now he’s sure. After trying fruitlessly to avoid you most of the day, he gives in toward the end, letting himself admire your body and enjoy your closeness. He’s had a few relentless flirts at his neck since graduating from Hogwarts, but you feel different. Most girls flirt with him because they think he’s something special, something big that will help them earn fame and get them in the Daily Prophet. You flirt like you think he’s a pathetic little puppy dog, and perhaps he should take offence from it, but instead, it makes him need you even more. Because it’s what he is, he’s not big and strong when it comes to this, he feels small and he needs someone who understands that, which you seem to, in your own roundabout way.

He helps you close up the shop, at your request, which is something he only usually does on particularly busy days, yet he knows the question is coming. You pout at him sweetly and ask for help and he comes running. As a thank you, you lean over as you count up the day's purchases, emphasising your chest and not commenting when he stares and blushes. He wouldn’t mind being compensated like this more often. He sweeps up the soil that’s accumulated on the floor from the various pots being moved around. Technically it’s your job, but how can he say no when you look at him like that and push your tits together just so?

You’re still double-checking the accounts when he goes into the back room again. He checks on all the special plants, making sure nothing is wrong, before moving toward the little cupboards in the corner of the room. He washes his hands and unties his apron slowly. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he sighs. You’ve been driving him crazy today. The subtle way you mocked him made him so needy for you even though he should hate you for it, he didn’t want to psychoanalyse that. He hears you enter but does his best to ignore you, you never usually talk at the end of your shifts, usually too tired and eager to get home to bother small talking. You wash your hands and remove your apron too, hanging it up by the door, your name tag facing forward. You feel his eyes on your ass again, which makes you smile to yourself.

“Is that why you stare at me so much?” you taunt, being purposefully vague. You glance over your shoulder at him. He’s bright red and chewing his lip.

“What?” he croaks.

“Because you’re a virgin? Is that why you stare so much? My ass in these trousers is the best view you’ve been allowed?” you mock, cooing as if you’re being sympathetic. He hates that you know, but he knows he hasn’t at all been subtle enough for it to be a shock. He just takes a shaky breath.

“I’m so-sorry, really… I don’t—“ he pulls nervously at his shirt. Godric it’s hot in here. You stalk closer.

“Poor thing, can’t control yourself around me, can you, hm?” you ridicule him, stalking closer with those dark seductive eyes. He realises you’re backing him into a wall as he takes a clumsy step back, moments away from hitting the hard surface. He swallows hard and you come closer, pressing your chest to his, emphasising the curve of your breasts. He can’t help but look, even if only for a split second. “Can you?” you prompt again, your voice lower.

“No,” he chokes. You laugh, low and mocking.

“No… you can’t control yourself around me… you pathetic little thing,” you finally backed him against the wall. He looks nervous, but you can feel his hardening arousal against your stomach. You shift yourself slightly, making him gasp and harden even more. You look up at him, smirking, the irony of belittling him in this way doesn't even matter, because you feel powerful and he feels small in this moment. You reach up and trace his cheek, making him shiver and his eyes flutter. “Poor little loser,” he whines loudly at that, and you watch carefully to see if you’ve actually hurt his feelings or not. When his eyes flicker open again, his pupils are wildly dilated and he looks desperate. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I am,” he whimpers. You’re surprised to hear him talk, but you let him, caressing his cheek in a mocking gesture. “I don’t want to be pathetic but I am, I can’t— do this sort of stuff,” he laments. “What kind of freak am I? Getting off to you calling me a loser?” you giggle at him and he laughs slightly too, looking down at the ground, not before glancing once more at your tits.

“You just want someone to see you for who you are and want you anyway, not put you on some pedestal,” you hum. He blinks at you. That actually… made sense. He glances up at you. “Isn’t that pathetic of you?” you tease with a smile and you both laugh a little.

“Yeah, Godric… I really am pathetic,” he chuckles quietly, watching you.

“A complete loser,” you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him. He squeaks, taken completely off guard by your lips on his. You fist your hands into the material of his shirt, forcing him to lean down to your level to kiss you. He kisses back, desperate and shaky. He pants into the kiss, already feeling a little dizzy. Your hand is reaching down and brushing feather-light against the bulge in his trousers before he can register what’s going on. His hips stutter and he whines against your lips. “So pitiful, barely even touching you and you’re whining,” you mock, brushing your fingers up and down the bulge, slow and teasing. His hands come to grip at your waist, exhaling shakily against you. “So needy,” you chuckle, pulling back and pouting at him.

“Y-yeah,” his eyes flit all over your face. You smirk up at him, trailing your hands down his body as you move to kneel in front of him. He gasps, his hands falling to his sides, chest heaving. He stares down at you, wide-eyed. He mumbles your name in question, wondering if this is really happening. You reach up, still smirking and pop to the button of his trousers. “Ah… oh Merlin…” he exhales, his eyes closing. You gently tug his trousers down and then lean forward, nuzzling your nose against the bulge in his boxers. You watch as his face twists in pleasure, a strangled gasp on his lips. He leans his head back against the wall as you press barely there kisses along his twitching length through the fabric. “This can’t be happening right now,” he pants, pushing his hips towards your face.

“Don’t you want it to?” you tease, gently licking the wet spot on the fabric, making him gasp.

“I— yes I want it but—this doesn’t happen… to me…” he groans as you slip down his boxers, springing him free. He stares down nervously now, no one has seen him like this before. You just smirk up at him, gently massaging his thighs.

“You want it?” you taunt, gently blowing on his length, making him twitch and buck.

“Nngh— yes,”

“Then beg me,” you grin. “Show me how pathetic you are for me,” he stares down at you, chest heaving, heart pounding so hard you can watch his pulse. He should feel humiliated, but the pre-cum dripping from his tip tells the both of you the reality. You lean up, placing soft open-mouthed kisses against his length, making him inhale sharply. “Beg me,” you sing-song between kisses.

“P-please,” he gasps. “Please, I’m pathetic, I need this so bad… I’ve never– ah–!” you cut him off by licking a stripe up his length. He dissolves into a string of shaky moans as you wrap your lips around his tip, softly suckling. He’s never felt this amazing before. He fights to open his eyes and look down at you, needing the visual of you doing this committed to his memory desperately, even though he knows it will likely haunt his every waking thought from today onwards. You look smug, even on your knees in front of him, and he knows you have him wrapped around your finger. He tries uselessly to dig his nails into the wall for purchase, watching as you slowly envelop more and more of him into the heavenly heat of your mouth. Your head bobs slowly, torturously slow, up and down the length of him. What you can’t fit in your mouth, you take a gentle hold of with your hand. Your tongue swirls and laves against him within your mouth, making his hips buck toward you. You immediately withdraw, making him sob.

“You just can’t control yourself, can you?” you chastise harshly. “Needy and brainless,” he nods along because he really can’t help but think you’re right.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll control myself, I will, please… I need you,” he wails. You look unimpressed, slowly teasing your hand up and down his shaft. He whines, melting against the wall. “Please…” he whispers. His voice is entirely wrecked and he already looks thoroughly debauched by you, you find the image exciting. When he glances down at you with those pleading wide eyes, you can’t deny him any longer. As a final teasing act, you lean in and gently kitten lick at his slit for a moment, tasting the salty sweetness accumulating there. You feel him trying to twitch in your hand, his head falling back again and desperate groans leaving his throat. You take him as deep down into your throat as he will go, gagging just a little, and start to bob your head again. His fingers curl, and you can tell he wants to grab your hair, but he’s being good, you keep in mind to tell him he was good later. Your lips slide up and down his length, using your tongue to swirl and add an extra layer of stimulation. He’s very vocal, whining, whimpering, groaning, completely ruined. You stare up at him as you gently swallow around him. His eyes squeeze further shut and his hips cant forward, making you gag a little, but you do it again. He gasps loudly and his hands start to flail, smacking against the wall. You only realise he was trying to warn you between strangled moans when you feel the warm spurt of his release in your mouth. You swallow it down as he frantically withdraws himself from you, crying as he rides out the feeling of his orgasm, his legs shaking. He feels like he’s left his body and ascended to heaven, this was why all his friends were so crazy about sex. He got it now. Once he’s returned to himself a little, he falls to his knees in front of you. “I’m so sorry, I tried to warn you but I felt so good, I-” he fusses. “I’m so sorry, th-thank you,” he whimpers, wiping a tiny bit of cum from the corner of your mouth. “Thank you,”

“It’s fine,” you dismiss him as he holds your face and thanks you over and over. It amuses you how wrecked he is. “It’s alright, Neville,” you chuckle in disbelief, leaning forward and pecking his lips. He can vaguely taste himself on your lips, even without you opening your mouth, and it makes him groan. He chases your lips as you pull away, opening his eyes to give you a puppy-dog look.

“Merlin … I really am pathetic,” he swallows and then laughs nervously, leaning back against the wall, smiling sheepishly as you tuck him back into his boxers. You sit on your knees in front of him and he stares at you, half in awe, half in apprehension. “Are you going to tell people about this?” he questions, slightly anxious, wiping some sweat from his brow.

“No, I can’t lose my job, we’ve just broken a bunch of rules, you realise?” you tease and he smiles slightly.

“Are we going to do this again? Or you know… something else?” he glances at your body, feeling a little bad he couldn’t do anything to make you feel like he just did.

“Maybe, maybe not, you’ll just have to wait and see,” you taunt, pecking his cheek and rising to your feet. He cranes his neck to watch as you fetch your bag and coat. You glance at him over your shoulder, seeing him sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking dazed and ruined. You can’t help but giggle, the sound stirring his stomach again. “See you soon, Longbottom,” you blow a mocking kiss and leave. He stares after you, both glad you’re gone so he can process what just happened, and also wishing you were never away from him again.

Tomorrow at work was either going to be heaven or hell on earth, and he found himself eager to find out.

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xoxoxo

482 notes · View notes

inosukijiro · 6 months ago

Text

𝗚𝗜𝗬𝗨𝗨 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗧

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ giyuu decides its time to tell you how he feels.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. this is part two. or not, it really doesn’t matter if you read the first part. loved this idea bc i love crochet. currently making a giyuu amigurumi doll atm, so yay me ig

━ 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. im so sorry for being gone for almost two months. i was burnt out. but i have lots of prompts / plot ideas written down and just have to finish them. also also!! season 4 was crazy, i loved every minute of it but that ending – im so not ready for the final arc. anyways, thank you for the support as usual, luv u besties

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. fluff. use of swear words (not a lot, but they are there). giyuu-centric. modern reader in kny. mentions of crochet and amigurumi. gender-neutral reader. also very poor dialogue probably, i avoid talking irl so yk. 1.9k words.

first part (optional); giyuu has a crush

Giyuu is about to have a stroke. He’s alone in his room late at night. He should be sleeping, but he can't imagine doing so. The moon light is coming through his window and all he can do is stare at the crochet hook in his hand as his fingers remain still. He is hunched, hovering over a ball of yarn in his lap. He can't shake the feeling of inadequacy that heavily weighed on him because he really has no idea what he’s doing.

You had this habit of making him gifts. Cute little amigurumi things and it had become a habit of his waiting when you’ll show up with one just for him. They’re almost always an animal or some sea creature, maybe even a small plant that he has sitting on display in his room somewhere. They are always so adorable and tiny, always fitting in the palm of his hand. It's almost like clockwork at this point, and Giyuu is always so flattered to receive them.

He remembers the little tiny baby sea turtle you have made for him. Its flippers rested against the palms of his cupped hands; its eyes and lids sewed on so perfectly along with the rest of it. It’s so intricate, he almost thought it was real. He remembers bringing it up to his face, staring at it in its tiny face, because for some reason this time he really didn’t know how to act.

He remembers you giggling, quickly explaining that you really didn’t know what to make him this time – lies, you have so many patterns. You just care too much about his opinion and his likes. Honestly, you could make him anything you wanted and he would be happy.

❛ And then I thought, ‘well you are the Water Pillar after all’. And I thought the sea turtle was kinda cute too, so I wanted to make it for you. Now you have a little friend to keep you company on your mission! ❜

Now here he was, with little idea of what he was doing. A frustrated sigh left his lips. He began working the yarn along with the hook – all his movement completely hesitant and fumbling. It would be a lie to say that he had never been skillful with his hands; he is a swordsman after all. However, it was clear that he wasn’t as skillful as you regarding this, and it makes sense. He had never picked up any knitting or crochet hooks until tonight at this ungodly hour.

Sure, he could have just crafted a wooden figurine. It is something he vaguely knows how to do, and seems like a more appealing thought now, plus, he knows that you would love it either way. But all he wanted to do was something special. He wanted to convey his feelings to you through what you love doing the most and give you something that he knows you would like. And for about a moment he wonders if this is a good idea. Then decides that he doesn’t care anymore. This is going to make or break him. He procrastinated this long enough.

Though hours passed and Giyuu is shocked to consider it done. He hoped it was. He glances over at his window and the sun is barely over the horizon. And as much as Giyuu loves you, he can't do this again. No, that is also a lie. He would if you asked. But he couldn’t help but feel disgruntled. He didn’t even know what he made. It is some type of plushie. It has a big body with some stubby legs. Its arms are almost the length of it too, if not longer, making them seem like large floppy paws. Its head; he is unsure if it's too big as it’s the same size as the body, but it’s a bit too late now to do anything about it. He made small ears on the top, and added some type of embroidery to make the eyes – as no buttons seemed to look right to him. There was no nose or mouth either, because Giyuu couldn’t figure out how to add them without making it look worse than it already does.

He frowned at the finished product, before hanging his head. It was done, yes. But to him, he knows that he could have done a much better job. And the pang of disappointment didn’t help. Because surely you deserve something better than this crude attempt at a gift.

However, for some reason Giyuu was oddly excited. Maybe it was the ice cold water he almost drowned himself awake to. But he really didn’t pay it any mind. Maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Maybe he just wanted to get it over with. He was afraid, so very afraid because this was the first time he was outwardly seeking your validation. But he was also anticipating the interaction. Because you were so nice. And he shouldn’t be afraid.

So here he was now, standing in front of you. And suddenly, he can't remember why he was so afraid in the first place. You looked so delightfully happy just like he had hoped. He watched as you took the plush from his hand, your fingers just barely brushing against his. And he felt his palms get clammy again. You were so delicate with it, and honestly, if you had asked Giyuu, perhaps you were a bit too delicate. He didn’t think that it deserved such care. He watched as you brushed your thumb over the soft yarn. Your eyes staring intently at it, and Giyuu couldn’t place the look you were giving.

“Giyuu, it’s adorable!” Your eyes sparked just a little bit when you looked back up at him. The plush is pressed against your chest right now. So softly, almost protectively and Giyuu actually can't believe it. Truly, he is in disbelief. You actually liked it? You really must’ve, because you’re going on about the plush; gushing over it and completely unfazed by any of its imperfections. You asked how he made it and when he had the time. It was nice, until you asked him why. And he got all nervous again.

Well… He responds. “You make me such nice things all the time. And I wanted to make you something as well. To show my appreciation.”

Oh! You are a little taken aback by that as a light blush starts to burn on your cheeks. You were definitely feeling the appreciation. You just never really anticipated Giyuu to make you something. Not because you thought he was incapable, or anything like that. You just… liked making things, and if that happened to be for Giyuu more than others you weren’t going to deny it. It made you happy to do so. And you never really expected anything in return. But for him to make you something, the gesture kind of made you feel special. It was so sweet!

“Of course, I’m glad you like it. You… mean a lot to me you know. Um…” He stops because he's a bit flush. He wants to confess so badly and he doesn’t understand; why is it so hard. Just say it. It's like you are waiting for him to – and you are – but you are so completely and utterly patient with him that sometimes he wished you weren’t. “Ngh, don’t look at me like that.”

You giggle softly. You can’t help it. Why is he so cute? “I’m sorry,” You say sincerely, still hugging the plush to your chest. “Please continue.”

His heart is beating out of his rib cage. He feels like he is going to die. He has never expressed his feelings so openly before and as much as he wants to say that he is uncomfortable, he's only half way there and he only needs to get the words out. He's been afraid of rejection for so long that, even deep down knowing the possibility of you loving him exists, he can’t help but worry about it. The words are on his tongue and at some point, he has to come out and say it.

“I… I love you.” Finally. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you. You don’t have to say or do anything, I just… I just wanted you to know.”

“You love me?” You had a big, stupid smile on your face, which made the question you had asked seem hopeful to him. If you had been home, you might have thought he was pulling a joke on you, not that he would know to assume that. And you, yourself are having a good time telling the small voice in the back of your head to fuck off because – yes, Giyuu Tomioka just confessed his love for you and you were not going to let the universe take it back.

He nodded, silent. The smallest, timid, smile pulled at his lips as he waited for you to continue. “Giyuu, I love you too. Actually, I..” you stopped before you started tripping over your words and let out a deep breath. Your grasp on the plush tightened, clutching it closer to your body in an attempt to ground yourself. “I… may have been in love with you for a while, too.”

He stares at you for a moment, another dumb look on his face. It's like the gears are turning in his mind. That yes, just like you had, are realizing this is all actually happening. And if he promptly pulls you into the softest, brain melting kiss you've ever had – that's between the two of you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᘡ ۫ 𖨂 𓈒 🦑 ۟ ៹ 𓂂

Of course, now it’s later and Giyuu is watching you show off the plush to the rest of the Hashira. You had grabbed his hand in a rush, so excited and happy. He let you tug him along, squeezing his hand so tight; never minding the clamminess. He watched as you shoved the crochet piece in Rengokus face, telling him with pride that Giyuu was the one that made it for you. ‘I see that,’ he says and lets out one of those joyous laughs, almost amused.

You tug him along, going from Hashira to Hashira. Giyuu vividly remembers you shouting at Shinazugawa from across the training grounds about ‘Look at what Giyuu made me! Suck it you fuck face’ before running off and taking him with you again. He remembers in the background the Wind Pillar shouting, something about how it was ‘Ugly as fuck’ and a few other things but Giyuu ignored it.

Others recognized the effort Giyuu put into it, much like Rengoku. He gets a ‘That's kinda flashy’ from Tengen, and surprisingly Shinobu didn’t really poke at him too much, but maybe that was because you were there. Mitsuri squeals about it. She thinks it’s the cutest thing she's ever seen, and Giyuu makes sure not to look at Obanai at all. Otherwise, the man might force Giyuu to teach him. Or force himself in between you and him to teach him, and Giyuu doesn’t know if he can handle that.

The afternoon passed by after that and you both ended up back at his estate, just like always. This time, you were much closer to him than usual, not that Giyuu minded. He watched from over your shoulder as you continued your own little crochet project. He had half a mind to join you, but instead opted to enjoy just being with you; resting his head near yours and wrapping his arms around your waist. Though, somewhere close by the little turtle and the plush were laying together where you had placed them. It was almost like they were watching you, like they were proud of him.

Thank you once again for reading!! ໒꒰ྀི ˃ ∩∩ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 9 months ago

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Semi-Final Two

Propaganda...

Mr Knightley (2009):

Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST

We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma

GIF by dearemma

I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma

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I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.

GIF by night-unfurls-its-splendour

Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:

What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)

Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.

And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.

Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing

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GIF by sashajames

GIF by christophernolan

I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!

Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.

no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!

He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.

Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!

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A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!

GIF by myforeverworldofmovie

It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

GIF by molinaesque

I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

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Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #semi finals #mr knightley #captain wentworth #emma 2009 #persuasion 1995 #Emma #persuasion #jane austen #ciaran hinds #jonny lee miller

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max1461 · 5 months ago

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Other people want the world as a whole to "mean something" or "be about something" and I just don't. That's so terribly constricting, so suffocating. I'm much more inclined to positive nihilism.

I'm reading about LotR lore lately, and I really like LotR, but all the Christianity in it distresses me. Why must the world be governed by Eru Ilúvatar's infallible and undefeatable master plan? Doesn't that take out all the stakes? More importantly: part of what I like about LotR is its valorization of the small and the ordinary, as represented in the hobbits but also in, you know, Tolkien's proclivity to spend more time talking about potatoes than he needs to, and whatnot. There's a valorization of the small over the grandiose. It's like, finding dignity in the ordinary or something, that feels like a big part of Tolkien's project, and I'm deeply sympathetic to that. But then he has to go and add, you know, an omnipotent and omnibenevolent creator and omnimalevolent enemy (Melkor, not Sauron) and like...

First of all I hate the combination of omnipotence and omnibenevolence, it just doesn't work in any kind of narrative, it doesn't work in Christianity either, it's just *so* having your cake and eating it too. Like, Christianity itself has something of a "valorization of the small" going on but it also fails there, because (people have already said all these things) Jesus isn't actually just some guy, he's actually god the all-powerful and infallible lord of the universe! And he doesn't even really suffer or debase himself except temporarily, he ascends to heaven in the end, whereas sinners are sent to hell to suffer permanently for their imperfections. And "the meek will inherit the earth" by submitting to God and doing everything he says!

Not really valorizing the small there IMO.

Anyway Christianity doesn't succeed at this but the thing about Tolkien is he gets so close. When he says stuff (this is from one of his letters apparently, I quoted it the other day) like

It had been Sauron’s virtue (and therefore also the cause of his fall, and of his relapse) that he loved order and coordination, and disliked all confusion and wasteful friction… it was the creatures of the earth, in their minds and wills, that he desired to dominate.

I'm like, yeah! I'm with you bro! But then there's the whole thing about, well, Eru Ilúvatar's creation was perfect until Melkor's discordant singing marred it, and now it's imperfect and that's the source of all evil, but it's also fine because Eru's vision is bound to win out in the end, it's like... you're undercutting your whole thing! Eru is doing what Sauron wants to do, it's just that he's winning at it. Maybe the point is that Eru permits free will, or something, while Sauron doesn't. But this still seems weak in light of the whole "Melkor as the origin of imperfection" thing. You can't valorize the small and the ordinary without being comfortable with imperfection. You can't make a story where imperfection is Inherently Evil, as it seems to quite literally be in Tolkien's cosmology, and have it land for me as a critique of lust for power. Like. What do people even want to do with power except Eliminate All The Imperfections? Obviously some just want to enrich themselves, but I think Tolkien's opposition to power-seeking plainly runs a lot deeper than just opposition to self-interested power-seeking, which is

what I like about it, and

why this incongruity is so frustrating.

Anyway, there's that Scott Alexander post, Heuristics that Almost Always Work. I agree with the thesis of the post as such, but there's this line in it that perfectly articulates the reason rationalism tends to alienate me:

The Futurist He comments on the latest breathless press releases from tech companies. This will change everything! say the press releases. “No it won’t”, he comments. This is the greatest invention ever to exist! say the press releases. “It’s a scam,” he says. Whatever upheaval is predicted, he denies it. Soon we’ll all have flying cars! “Our cars will remain earthbound as always”. Soon we’ll all use cryptocurrency! “We’ll continue using dollars and Visa cards, just like before.” We’re collapsing into dictatorship! “No, we’ll be the same boring oligarchic pseudo-democracy we are now” A new utopian age of citizen governance will flourish. “You’re drunk, go back to bed.” When all the Brier scores are calculated and all the Bayes points added up, he is the best futurist of all. Everyone else occasionally gets bamboozled by some scam or hype train, but he never does. His heuristic is truly superb. But - say it with me - he could be profitably replaced with a rock. “NOTHING EVER CHANGES OR IS INTERESTING”, says the rock, in letters chiseled into its surface. Why hire a squishy drooling human being, when this beautiful glittering rock is right there?

Bolding in the final paragraph mine.

"Nothing ever happens or is interesting". Really? Is that what the skeptical futurist is saying? Certainly he's saying "nothing ever happens", that I'll grant. But he's not saying "nothing is ever interesting". You added that, Scott, because to be interested you need something Big to happen. You are not filled with love for the small and ordinary, it is just wasted time and wasted space to you.

I do not particularly like the Big, at least not most of the time. I like the small quite a lot. And, contrary to their names, I think most of the world is small. The world is made of lots of small things, not a couple big things. And I often feel that the small is the only thing that's actually real, the big tends to be illusory. As a small creature it is other small things that affect me most and matter most to me, it is my small dealings with other small creatures that are subjectively the biggest. And the various grand narratives of history, if they exist, only affect me in a diffuse and nonspecific way and are in all their specifics born out in small things.

I am very much a partisan of ordinary things, ordinary dealings, of our daily lives and our individual relationships and perhaps ephemeral but deeply felt emotions as the actual source of value in the world, from which Big things insofar as they matter at all derive their importance. And, aesthetically I suppose, I am also a defender of the inherent dignity of small things and cast-aside things (a different but closely related category). And there are close connections between the small and the vast (which is not the same as Big), and. Well, take my uquiz. But anyway.

#navel gazing

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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months ago

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Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader) Part 5, MDNI 18+

Synopsis: Finally out of the Underdark, the group takes a rest day. You and Astarion go swimming. Astarion shows you his scars. "No shoes, no shirt, no service" ends up working out pretty well for you.

CW: SMUT, virginity loss (not glorified), PiV, Oral (F! Receiving), Dead Dove

*can be read independently

Author Note: Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all the love and support!

Part 4: Part 6 : Master list

You could not be more grateful to be out of the Underdark and away from Minotaurs or to have a true rest day.

On the other hand, you are borderline loopy if you are being entirely honest with yourself. Your entire body feels excruciatingly heavy and you kind of just want to sleep.

It’s been a really long and difficult trip. You are over it- mostly because you really don’t want to go to the crèche. Shadowheart and Lae’zel have been like two toddlers throwing tantrums back and forth regarding the whole thing and at one point you lost your marbles.

“You!” You pointed at Shadowheart, “STOP BEING A RACIST JACKASS!

You turned to Lae’zel, “AND YOU! Stop threatening her with a good time!”

You and Astarion went on the hunt for Blackberries. It was initially just you going, but he asked if he could go with. He was rather shy about the whole thing and you are still trying to figure out what his feelings towards you are- which is also very confusing and tiring.

A hand wraps around your bicep, interrupting your thoughts, and Astarion just barely pulls you before you walk off a larger rock and go tumbling to the ground.

The only one who has taken any real notice in your emotional distress is Astarion, but you don’t know he realizes that and that he is very hyper aware of your needs and potential stressors. It’s part survival technique and also part absolute obsession with how wonderful you are. He feels like a giddy school boy and it’s weird.

“Darling,” he scolds you, “why didn’t you say you were dangerously tired?”

“I’m fine,” you fib, not wanting to inconvenience him with worry..

Astarion rolls his eyes and takes his bow and arrow off his back. He straps them to you before guiding you up a rock.

“Well?” He asks with a shrug.

It takes you a moment and you blush extremely hard. You can’t keep doing this to yourself- it’s getting pathetic.

“I am fine, really, I -“

“Says the person who damn near walked straight off the cliff,” he chastises you again, “besides, I drank our last elixir of giant hill strength so I might as well put it to use.”

You eventually agree and you are grateful that he carries you on his back with ease. You wear mostly light armor- preferring to be able to move swiftly to support healing your companions or fellow selunite’s.

Astarion smells like his cologne with a hint of salt. You can hear his barely existing pulse thrumming through his skin. Sometimes it’s odd to realize your blood is what runs through his veins right now.

It feels oddly intimate and dare you say… special?

You had woken up this morning to a very frustrated Astarion. He had reported that his hunt didn’t go well so you offered your neck.

Astarion hasn’t fed from you in a while so when his teeth broke skin- he had to be very mindful of his every action. You, on the other hand, were fighting off the faint moans that you refuse to let escape your lips while he feeds.

You have no desire to sexualize him- it’s the intimacy of the act itself. Nothing more, nothing less. You haven’t been touched in a while and you haven’t touched someone in a while- not in that way anyway.

Your hands had tangled in his hair and you were about to let him bleed you dry. He thankfully had enough restraint for both of you.

You thought everything was black and white- unrequited love at its finest.

The kiss is confusing and you keep trying to convince yourself it’s merely because he was caught up in the heat of the moment or you imagined it. The proximity isn’t helping and all you want is to do it again.

“Star?” You murmur.

Astarion perks his ears up, “hm?”

“I need a nap.”

He rolls his eyes and smiles, “well, maybe someone wouldn’t be so sleepy if someone asked for help every once in a while.”

“I-I… ask for help,” your voice going from indignant to a grumble.

“You are disgustingly selfless,” he remarks, “you should do something for yourself for once.”

“Like what!?” You exclaim, “should I try mushrooms again? Is this what you are suggesting?”

“Absolutely not,” he tsks, “I prefer when there is a smile on that lovely face of yours and I saw far more of your frown than your smile during that whole debacAle.”

You are so grateful he can’t see you blush like a schoolgirl right now. You wouldn’t be able to explain yourself.

You look around in the environment and try to come up with something fun you can do to fill your cup- which, surprisingly enough- you do so rather quickly.

“What if we went to that waterfall?” You offer, “the water was clear and the area was cool. It would be a great way to cool off.”

“You mean the water down the insanely large cliff?”

You nod and are suddenly being put down- Astarion puts both hands on his hips and leers at you- then shrugs.

“Fine, but no falling or drowning- please. I don’t need oxygen, but I have no idea if I can swim or not. “

Your original excitement wanes and turns into a different kind of excitement entirely. You cast Feather Fall and are quickly leaping over the side of the cliff- you love your silly flying magic- both flying and feather fall. You are one of the few clerics you know that actually knows how to cast fly, but you typically prefer to use a potion to avoid having to concentrate on it. You have fallen a few times before because you forgot to keep focusing.

Before you know it, you have dragged him towards the shallow part of the pool of water below the waterfall. Astarion looks like he may be sick, but you are certain you can teach him how to swim if he doesn’t know how to.

However, what you didn’t think about was the lack of swimwear.

It can’t possibly be that big of a deal. You are both perfectly mature adults and it’s not like seeing your friend in his underwear is that weird.

Sure he kissed you, but he hasn’t said anything else since or tried again. It was probably an accident- even after everything he said. You know he isn’t someone to shy away from what he wants.

Besides, you try to see this as a positive rather than the excruciating negative it actually is, he isn’t even attracted to you so you don’t even have to worry about how you look! Your hair can get as mussy as it needs to be!

You begin to get rid of your armor and Astarion almost seems to get taller suddenly- you look over and raise an eyebrow at the obviously shell shocked man.

“What? You can’t swim in your armor- you would be stuck at the bottom,” you exclaim as if the man in front of you is gawking because you are using common logic, “and I would drown- which I certainly do not want to do.”

He blinks several times- almost too fast to be human, if you are being entirely honest with yourself, before he snaps out of it and puts on his usual confident smirk.

“I am glad we can agree on something for once,” he teases, you don’t notice the amount of effort he is putting in to not looking further from your face, “but if you wouldn’t mind turning around while I strip into my un-“

“Oh! Duh!” You feel wildly embarrassed, “I am so sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Gods I didn’t even think about that before I began- I will do better next time.”

Flustered, you turn around and slowly submerge yourself in the water to get used to the coolness of it. It’s significantly colder than the water near Emerald Grove and you really miss it. You really liked the weird harpy beach (after the Harpy’s were removed) and the sand had been soft.

Maybe you should travel back some time. You are certain Karlach would be absolutely thrilled to go back after her and Wyll had their “epic cannonball” competition. Gale had cast feather fall, but it still didn’t stop the belly flop Wyll performed to hurt any less.

That was a fun day, you think to yourself, I wish Astarion had been there, but still. I think these are the first people I feel like I belong around.

You smile to yourself and take a deep breath.

You are very proud of yourself for stepping up- you feel eons away from the person who woke up on the Nautiloid and significantly more confident in yourself.

You are a smart, funny, and charming individual. You are someone worthy of love and you are grateful to have boat loads of it now.

The water splashes from behind you and you wait for several moments. You begin to feel a bit worried when there is some silence and then teeth chattering begins.

You turn and Astarion is hugging himself- leering at you with his lips set in a pout.

“It is MISERABLE IN HERE!”

You giggle and cast a warming cantrip that Gale taught you. The water becomes significantly more comfortable, but Astarion still groans and complains.

“What if I just watched you swim?”

“That would be weird, Astarion.”

“Is it?” He questions, “mothers and fathers watch their children swim and don’t join them all the time- if my memory serves me correctly.”

“Are you saying you’re my mom?” You snort and relish in the way his entire face turns pink- his ears especially.

“I- NO!” You have never seen him this flabbergasted before, “I have no desire to be your mother.”

“Oh, so you are my dad then?”

“Ye- NO!”

You throw your head back with mirth and laughter. It’s fun on the rare occasion that you catch him off guard first. Astarion is usually making you trip through sentences.

You wipe away your tears and your face hurts from smiling. You feel like your face may split in half when you look at his face. He looks equally as happy and he is still embarrassed- it makes him look softer and he blinks very slowly.

His lips… look… so… kissable!!!!

Swimming! You scream at yourself, you came to teach him how to swim, not imagine making out with him!

“Alright,” you submerge yourself until you are neck deep, turning to face him, “I believe in you peepaw!”

Astarion glares at you and you give him a shit eating grin.

“I am going to fucking kill you,” he yells over the waterfall.

“PROMISE!?”

Astarion rolls his eyes at you before nervously looking down as he watches the rest of his upper torso disappear. Another drool worthy aspect of him that you, begrudgingly, will never get to see outside of this capacity again.

Shadowheart saw him in that capacity.

It’s almost enough to derail you and want to run back to camp.

Almost.

Where you are up to your neck, Astarion still has quite a lot water clearance.

“Look at that!” You wipe away a fake tear, “they get older and older everyday.”

“Oh will you knock it off with that already!”

Astarion splashes you in the face and you sputter- spitting the water that got into your mouth out.

“EEWWWWWW!”

“HAH!”

It takes a few more childish splashes before you eventually get to the initial matter at hand. However, you didn’t anticipate it taking thirty minutes to convince him to even doggy paddle.

“Maybe Scratch would be a better swim teacher,” you scratch the back of your head, “maybe he would demonstrate better.”

Astarion is tight lipped and you have noticed that he refuses to turn around in front of you or allow you to get behind him.

Does he have some kind of nasty mole or something?

No, you shake your head, it’s not your place to ask.

“What if we tried a backstroke?”

Astarion takes to that very quickly- becoming faster than you even.

Everything is going “swimmingly” (Astarion splashed you again for that one) and you are pretty bummed that you have to leave. You are getting tired and your stomach is growling so loudly he can hear it.

“Wait,” Astarion pulls you back before you get out of the water- it is now just below your shoulders while Astarion almost has his entire torso above water.

Don’t look. Don’t stare. Don’t look. Don’t stare.

“Yes, Star?”

A ghost of a smile flickers on his face, “I- I want to show you something.”

You are a bit confused, but nod anyway. Astarion grabs your hand this time- a shock to your system- and pulls you out while looking at both of your hands. He refuses to look your way and he seems to struggle with letting go.

He closes his eyes with a shaking breathe and turns around, his fists are in tight balls and you are beginning to worry there may be a creature that wishes to consume you coming out of his back at this rate.

Thankfully, the situation isn’t that dire, but you still take a sharp breath.

You can see why he didn’t want to turn around earlier. The scars are so precise and deep- it looks horribly painful. You cannot imagine how long it took for this to occur- considering he has vampiric healing.

The skin has been healed over a thousand times, but your heart feels broken when you think about how many people have taken advantage of his situation and never stopped to ask how they could help. Those who dug their nails into his back or found beauty in his scars- only wanting to enjoy his body and chase their own pleasure.

You aren’t sure what you should do. You want to touch them and soothe every emotional and physical wound- even the ghosts of them- but you aren’t sure that would be accepted considering the nature of the scars. You want to tell him you think the world of him- that you love him and nothing could ever change that. Hells- you would kill Cazador tomorrow if you could- but you don’t think that would help either.

You have never felt this angry in your whole life.

“A gift,” he says solemnly before his voice is flooded with venom and embarrassment, “from Cazador.

“He composed it over the span of a night,” his shoulders slump, “he made many revisions as he went.”

You recognize the language and it makes your stomach turn.

This soul swears no oath by fire

Nor words does he speak

In the realm of death

“Do you know what it is supposed to be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I have never seen it. A poem or something like that.”

A poem? That isn’t right. It’s poetic, but it seems more of a contract or curse.

You shake your head, “this is Infernal and while it reads like a poem- it’s certainly not a poem.”

“What!?” He turns around and looks at you with panic, “infernal?”

This leads to drawing the design out of the dirt on the beach.

“What in the hells did he do to me?”

Astarion’s fear and horror soaks into your bones. You look down at the looping design.

It makes your own skin crawl and the message itself worries you deeply. It makes you worry that Astarion will never ever be free, but it wouldn’t make sense. This is a devil’s contract- you aren’t sure people can use those to bind themselves to someone.

“Karlach and Wyll may-“

“No,” he interrupts, “let’s keep this between us for now.”

You erase the evidence quickly and you are admittedly a bit surprised by the statement.

“Doesn’t Shadowheart know? She may-“

“Shadowheart hasn’t seen them.”

“I think she- wait really?”

“Yes.”

“But you-“

“Barely- neither party was enjoying themselves.”

Oh.

Your perplexed mind must be showing on your face because Astarion smirks at you with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh please- I may be a worthless elven whore, but I-“

“Do not say that,” you cross your arms and Astarion’s sentence stops in it’s tracks, “you are not ‘worthless’ and you are not a ‘whore’ either. Even if you were- of your own volition- there is nothing wrong with that. Sex work is a very valid form of work and as long as you are happy, I will be more than happy for you.

“However, that is not the reality of the situation.” You feel your frown settling further into your face, “what happened to you is cruel and horrific. No one deserves to be treated that way- especially not you- and I can assure you that the Priestess and I are going to have serious words about including vampire spawn and helping them when I return to the temple! I am embarrassed on the behalf of the entire damn clergy.”

Astarion’s eyes soften significantly with a bit of warmth and humor. He also looks authentically surprised by your passion regarding the subject. He nods and turns away- continuing to get dressed and you do the same.

You aren’t necessarily thrilled with yourself because you neglected to think about what you are going to wear to sleep. You have a few pairs of camp clothes, but now they are soaked adjacent and you still technically have a tent mate.

Unless he decides that this is all too much? It feels like there has been a lot more emotionally intimate moments between both of you and you worry from time to time. It helps that you don’t have the pressure of a romantic bond, but you don’t want to make him feel trapped.

You walk back in silence- stretching and yawning as you go.

There is so much to do tomorrow. Laundry- big time. Probably need to try to secure more food before we cross the border… at this rate, we never know when the next time to restock will be.

Ugh- especially with the Shadow Cursed Lands. We probably need to secure more blood for Astarion too. Oh and finding a way to store it so it doesn’t become disgusting. Maybe a few Restoration scrolls. I know I will be the primary source of food for him.

“You are thinking awfully hard over there, Darling.”

“I am just thinking about my chores.”

“Chores?

“Well, for one, I need to wash my clothes. I didn’t think about that before we went swimming. I am also trying to figure out the food situation- we are going to need to figure out how to store blood for you and try to collect as much food as we can before entering the Shadow Cursed Lands. I want to begin preparing for that now so we don’t run into trouble later. Hungry bellies and life threatening circumstances never end well.”

“Y-you don’t need to worry about me, Darling,” he stammers, “I am sure I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I want to help. It will stress me the hells out if I know we don’t have something for you to eat or at least several potions so I can recover because you starving is not an option!” You exclaim, “and could you imagine Shadowheart and Lae’zel interacting while hangry? I like living, thank you very much.”

Astarion snorts and shakes his head, “I don’t know- I think it would make for a rather fun evening. My money would be on Lae’zel.”

“Really?” You are genuinely surprised, “my money would be on Shadowheart only because Karlach may get involved. Otherwise- Lae’zel all the way.”

“What if we made them ‘hangry’ on purpose,” Astarion offers, “we could see exactly how the situation goes? For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course,” you say, “just for research…”

The two of you hatch a plan- the next day, you will refuse to take breaks and Astarion will throw a fit if you try. This means the two women won’t be allowed to snack throughout the day and Gale always takes forever to cook.

At some point, Astarion intertwined his fingers with yours and you notice, but you just hold on tightly. You really don’t want him to let go and it feels natural. You don’t notice the way he is looking at you or how he has to pay extra attention to the environment while he listens because he has almost tripped a couple times.

The walk home is calm and peaceful. You chatter back and forth about the various theories you have regarding Gith culture and the oddness of the crèche.

Once you finally get back to camp- you practically skip to your tent to get out of your wet clothing.

It’s not until after that you realize you have made quite the error by getting caught up in your to-do list without informing Astarion that you don’t necessarily have clothes- your laundry situation is far more dire than you mentioned- and he may want to sleep in his own tent tonight. Your laundry didn’t just magically do itself in the last 10 minutes.

You groan- thankful you have at least found a pair of underwear that are clean, but what are you supposed to do about a top? You also can’t go out to the campfire exposed.

“Darling- I think I may have left my-“ he coughs suddenly, “shirt.”

Your arms cover your chest by instinct although you are turned around.

“Oh- uh- ya um probably over there,” you sound even more awkward than you feel, “I am probably going to spend time here for the rest of the night. Didn’t really think about the laundry situation.

“I suppose that means I will see you tomorrow-“

As if on cue- a shirt is pulled over the top of your head and you naturally put your arms through the holes. He spins you around with his delicate fingers leaving the ghost of his presence along your hips.

Blood is rushing through your ears. You feel far too warm and you just try to focus on the floor as he ties the laces up the front of his shirt.

“There,” his voice is thick with an emotion you don’t know, “I suppose we are both stuck in here then. No shirt, no pants, no service, or whatever nonsense. It’s never stopped me though, but I can imagine you are no more ready to die than I am.”

“What do you mean?”

Astarion looks at you with a roll of his eyes and takes off his cloak.

“Oh please.”

“What!?”

Astarion guffaws at you, “Gale would explode if he had the opportunity to see you without any pants. It would be instantaneous.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. That’s nonsense and absolutely silly.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” you huff, walking to your pack to get your brush, “I think it would be more so him dying of shock that I have skin to show.”

More silence as you brush your hair- styling it the way you prefer and praying to Selune that it dries correctly. Also that you don’t fall asleep so prematurely that it dries weirdly.

You are distracted though. You very much like how you look in Astarion’s shirt and it is very nice of him to be lending it to you.

“I’ll make sure to wash your shirt with my laund-“

“I would prefer you didn’t,” he muses, “I rather like it when my clothing smells like you in your natural state, Darling.”

You run straight into him as you turn around in your confusion, his fingers tilting your chin up until your eyes meet his.

Ruby eyes send a massive infernal wave through you- this is how you imagine Karlach feels after consuming a soul coin.

You burn for him- whether he lights you on fire or sends electricity through your body. Only, you feel powerful in the way he looks at you.

It’s a somewhat possessive look, but not in the way you would have anticipated. It’s lustful and wanting, protective and gentle, heartbreak and hopefulness. Maybe even a bit of a fear.

“Would you be with Gale like this if he asked?”

You shake your head wordlessly. Your cheeks are flushed, your heart is thumping erratically against your chest, and blood is rushing in your ears. Your entire body is quivering in anticipation.

Astarion pulls you to him, his hands lightly on your ass. You can feel his finger curling- wishing to leave fingerprint bruises on your hips and thighs. You want him to so terribly it hurts.

“And Wyll?”

“No,” you say breathlessly.

“Halsin?”

“Not without you.”

He stops and chuckles darkly, “don’t threaten me with a good time, Lover.”

You try to hold still as he kisses along the curve of your jaw- his other hand has become tangled in your hair. You want him to feel in control and to feel like he can stop if needed.

“What about the others?”

Gods- you can hardly believe he is serious right now.

“I only want you, Astarion.”

This is not a confession you wanted to share ever again, but it’s out there now and you suppose it’s better to get your second rejection over with now than later. He’s probably just teasing anyway.

Only, it never comes- in fact- his fingers only seem to become more fidgety as they glide across your skin, sending shockwaves to your core.

You are in a trance and his grin is beautiful. Astarion is certainly a predator and you have quickly turned into helpless prey. You are right in his trap.

The whole world seems to just… stop. Your heart beat is thundering in your chest and blood roars through your ears. You wonder if he feels this way too- is this a universal experience or one sided?

His fingers travel along the curves of your face as if he is painting you, but his eyes are intense- it almost feels like he is trying to memorize you and your features.

Your breath hitches when his thumb swipes across your bottom lips, parting them ever so slightly.

You allow your eyes to meet his, and you have never wanted to be kissed more in your entire life. Something in the way he looks at you tells you that he feels the same.

It’s a silent consent- he watches your every move as he leans in and your eyes flutter shut the closer he gets to you.

The anticipation is killing you and you try to contain your huff of frustration, but you are desperate. This feels like a dream.

Astarion’s lips send shockwaves through you when he finally makes contact.

Every movement is slow and tender- your face is still cradled in his hands, but you aren’t sure where to put yours. Astarion seems to read your mind and his hands travel south, gently guiding your hands to rest on his chest before returning to your face.

You have kissed people before, but not a single soul could hold a candle to Astarion. Not that they could anyway, but this is just… incredible.

His lips like honey and wine are dizzying, you feel like a delicate work of art in his hands, and his skin feels like porcelain underneath your fingertips.

Astarion guides you to the ground, your hips straddling his, and one of his hands tangles itself in your hair, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other remains firmly on your hip and you feel exhilarated by the idea of the fingerprint bruises that are certain to be left behind.

One of your arms is propped up next to his head- helping you keep balance so you don’t fall on top of him by accident. The other slides in between both of you and rubs along the outline of his cock- you swipe your tongue along his lower lip when he moans, taking advantage of the temporary dominance.

It’s short lived- he pulls you back by your hair and you have to put your hands on his chest to keep from embarrassing yourself. The last thing you want is to topple over on accident and have the, “yeah so I have a dirty V-Card and haven’t gone all the way, but it’s no biggie! I am sure this whole position thing will make sense eventually!” Because that seems to just scare off men.

The hand that had been gripping your hair is now paying an artfully close amount of attention to your clothed clit, pushing away the fabric, and one finger slides inside you with ease.

You bite your lip so hard you draw blood and you basically growl- you don’t want to alert the entire camp to your activities. This is meant to be a private moment and yet, you could not be more embarrassed.

“I-“ you are blushing red, his finger still moving slowly inside you, “I’m- sor- just wanted-“

Astarion has you on your back- sucking, nipping, and lapping at the blood on your lower lip. He reinserts his lithe finger inside of you- his thumb taking it’s sweet time to hit every single nerve followed by a second finger that makes you briefly see stars.

“I don’t want to hear you ever apologize to me over something like that- it’s a noise I would rather like to hear from you again,” he nips your lower lip and you groan, “you are absolutely divine.”

You are a moaning mess against his doll like lips and your core is tightening so much it’s bittersweet. You want your release so terribly and you are lost in the way his fingers feel inside of you. Astarion curls and scissors his fingers- eventually adding a third that makes your toes curl in pleasure.

He begins to make his descent down your body- kissing along the vein in your throat and along your collarbones.

Every inch of your skin is littered in kisses or has been love bitten by the time his cold tongue circles your sensitive clit. His fingers continue their rhythm- occasionally changing speeds to either tease or ruin you. His other hand is holding your hips down- your thighs are holding his head in place and you have no idea how much he is enjoying being buried between your legs.

He really, really made a mistake going with Shadowheart. You are incredible- exceptional even. The way you are fighting to keep your moans quiet as the camp begins to stir to life makes his cock twitch painfully against the already strained clothing. It doesn’t seem to matter how much friction he provides himself with- all he can think about is being inside you, filling you to the brim, taking you and making you his once and for all.

When you finally have the wherewithal to look at him- you are taken away with the way he looks at you. It’s the same way a priest looks talking about his God.

You guide his face back up to yours by weakly grabbing his hair- evidently your mind is in the same space and wanting to feel entirely consumed by him. You bite his lower lip and the growl he releases tips you over the edge- stars explode behind your eyes and you feel the rush of bliss numb your entire body.

A low pitched whine leaves your throat when he removes his fingers. He chuckles, but you feel so incredibly empty. It feels wrong. You are desperate to know him in every way, if he wants that.

His eyes are still blown with lust, but you can see the adoration for you that Karlach so often talks about. You are smiling like a schoolgirl as he slots himself between your legs and begins to kiss you again.

Astarion’s cock is hard against the inside of your thigh and your breath hitches- the implication of the next act suddenly hitting you.

It’s happening and with someone you care about. Only, it makes you freeze, because it’s happening and it’s with someone you care about.

“Is everything alright, Darling?”

Astarion is looking at you with concern and you are quick to assuage him- gently guiding his face down to yours and kissing him deeply.

“I haven’t quite- reached this step yet- if that makes sense, but I PROMISE I WANT TO,” you are trying to save it before it crashes and dies on the floor, “if you want to- that is.

Astarion looks a bit surprised- maybe even a little shell shocked. What do you mean you haven’t quite gotten to this step? Are you trying to tell him you are a virgin?

It makes sense, but a part of him is worried he may be opening the proverbial Pandora’s box and you will only want him for sex now.

But this is you and… he can trust you. He can enjoy you. He can indulge safely.

“I very much want to,” his voice is low and thick with lust, “I want you so terribly it hurts.”

The act is far more beautiful than you could have ever expected- it feels like putting together two pieces of the same beautiful vase as if it wasn’t fixed or reunited until this exact moment.

His movements are slow and careful- he takes his time to ready you completely. Astarion kisses your whimpering lips and his hands are intertwined with yours.

It’s odd for him to be entirely in control, but he also loves every second of it. He loves how consumed with you he is.

Astarion’s eyes are boring into yours with every movement of his hips and every time you blink- he is still watching you with hooded, lustful eyes.

His own eyelashes flutter and Astarion’s eyes are fighting not to roll back- he wants to see every single second. Astarion wants to enjoy every moment of you.

You are technically his first too- to an extent. You are the first person he feels something for and wants to be with.

Your pulse thrums through his cock and his chest- it’s intoxicating and enduring. You are so real- so undeniably wonderfully alive and it allows him, even if for a moment, to feel like he is alive too.

You mewl against his mouth, you weren’t expecting so much pinching at the start, but you found it went away quickly- your arms are now wrapped around his neck and he rocks inside of you with a slightly faster pace. His lips coax even more sighs and gasps- his own becoming intermingled as you continue to indulge in one another.

You feel utterly full- disgustingly, beautifully, perfectly full. You are on cloud 9 or you may have died and gone to heaven.

This feels right- exactly what you had been waiting for.

Astarion is experiencing the same emotions- he can barely keep his composure as you kiss him. The mewls and keens that leave your lips are some of the most melodic sounds he has ever heard and you are all his.

You feel perfect- he likes the feelings of your hands on him, even if it’s still a complicated feeling.

Sex has never felt sacred or safe- he has never been able to forget himself in a way that wasn’t dissociative and here he is, entirely lost in the moment.

Entirely lost in you.

He is gasping and sighing shamelessly into your ear with each thrust of his hips. Astarion is fighting to keep is release at bay and it’s a lot harder than he thought it would be. It usually isn’t, but you are a lovely wonderful treat.

“A-Astarion,” you murmur his name like a prayer with every moan, as if he isn’t the one worshiping you right now.

Your heels are digging into his back and your heart beat is erratic. He kisses and nips your neck- struggling with his self control. You smell incredible.

When he goes to move away from your neck- one of your hands holds his head in place and he growls in response. Astarion means it more of a warning than anything else- he will end up biting you if you keep him here any longer. You are far, far too tempting.

You seem to read his mind.

“I-you can- if you want,”

It happens so fast, neither one of you really expects it when he sinks his teeth into your neck- his body responds for him and begins to thrust into you erratically. Astarion has both of your hands pinned above your head again and you- in all your inexperience- are trusting him.

The sounds that leave his mouth as he feeds and ruts inside you are animalistic and oddly enduring- your adrenaline and lust flows through your body.

Astarion’s mouth begins to feel warmer as you grow colder and his movements seem almost even more fast and distant with each second he takes from you, but you find you don’t mind. You should, but you don’t.

Your cries are guttural, hushed, and filled with pleasure- your legs are shaking around his waist and he can feel your life essence getting weaker and weaker.

It is becoming harder and harder to move away with each gulp of blood he takes, but he knows he needs to stop before he kills you on accident.

It feels physically painful to do so- not even necessarily because he is hungry, but because it made him feel truly connected to you on every single level. Astarion has never been given the pleasure of doing that before.

“You,” he kisses all over your face as you look up at him lazily, “are so lovely and you have been exceptionally good for me, my Dear.”

Astarion rolls so you are on top of him again- he knows you need a second to recover and he thinks you may rather enjoy this.

He props you up with his core and legs- using his hand to help himself get back inside you while you weakly keep yourself upright. You are a blissed out, wanting, whimpering mess when you finally are sinking back down on him and your hands are on either side of his head.

Your eyes are blown wide with lust, blood drips down your throat and down your chest, and Astarion wants to remember this moment forever. You look euphoric and your eyes are glossed over from the haze of blood loss and pleasure.

Astarion moves his core up and done- thrusting up into you while one of his hands keeps you from moving and the other is tangled in your hair. He wants to see you orgasm- he wants to watch your face when bliss takes you again.

It’s beautiful when it does.

Your face is peaceful with pleasure, but your eyes are filled with adoration for him, not just lust and hunger-sated.

There is no boredom or false infatuation. No Cazador or looming death right now- just the two of you in your little sanctuary together.

A mixture of your rush and his seed coats his navel and it may be the most delicious feeling in the whole world. The sound of your bodies is positively filthy and he is thankful you are still caught up in your haze because there is no way no one didn’t hear the events that have transpired in your tent.

He pulls you down to his chest, your legs are shaking around his waist and he’s slightly worried he may have done too much for your first time. However, you are lazily kissing his cheek and along his jaw so you certainly don’t seem displeased.

“Thank you,” you whisper, “this is what I envisioned my first time being like.”

“What do you mean?” He whispers back, unsure of why that is. Did you envision being with someone experienced? Beautiful? Easy to manipulate into sex?

“Being with someone I care about,” you lay your head on his chest and yawn, “with someone I consider my closest and most favorite companion. My friend and…”

It surprises him immensely and he honestly has no idea how to express his gratefulness, but he is able to respond in a somewhat normal way.

“One and Only Lover?” He offers flirtatiously, “exceptionally charming Vampire? Your deviously handsome rogue?”

You sit up weakly, rolling your eyes and place a kiss on his chin before curling back up.

“All of the above.”

“Thank the Gods- I was worried I was going to have to kill Wyll after all.”

You snort and just shake your head. Your breathing evens out and his hands are playing with your hair- as is the normal routine.

The normal routine.

Astarion’s smile is massive- he feels happy tears begin to stream down his face and he wipes them away with his free hand.

This is his new normal- having sex with you, a person he wants to be with, and cuddling afterwards. He even gets to drink from you. And he already can’t wait to be with you in such an intimate way again.

Tag list: @preciouslittlebhaalbae @xxgrimripp3rxx @alice4wonderland2812 @therobishow @m1ster1e @tragicdruid @katsutoria @aristenfromwarsaw @avabjorna36 @frankie-mercury @golden-baby

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jenscx · 4 months ago

Text

FACE TO FACE — bang jeemin x f!reader

being stuck in a hello kitty mascot costume isn’t one of jeemin’s proudest moments.

TAGS — fluff, zero angst, jeemin!centric, crackfic, very silly and cute, strangers to lovers, mentions of other izna members

WORDCOUNT — 3.9k

jeemin doesn’t really know how she got here. well, she does, but she doesn’t understand what spiritual being from above deluded her into agreeing to such a situation. the situation being— trapped under the scorching sun, in a humid and dark costume. and not just any costume! a hello kitty mascot costume.

you could blame it on jeemin, say that it was her choice, but it’s all because of koko asking her at three in the morning. she was groggy from waking up in the middle of the night and even more weary when the japanese girl begged for her help. and maybe it was her fault for not clarifying with koko what help she needed. but still!

it’s painful being in the costume. jeemin can feel her clothes sticking to her body grossly, sweat dripping down her skin, and her bangs stuck against her forehead. not to mention she has to hand out balloons and act like the happiest cat alive. honestly, everything made sense now; how koko had the money to constantly treat her to food. she knows it’s because the girl had spent hours in this cat costume. jeemin wants to rip off the bright red bow attached to hello kitty.

(but that would be unsightly. especially when children are around. jeemin thinks she’ll do it in the changing rooms.)

the only thing saving her from insanity is the fact that the kids around her are very cute. the way their eyes light up and they tug on her huge arm to ask for a balloon… it pulls jeemin away from the thoughts of homicide.

also, koko had a good reason to ditch her. she had a dance recital at the end of the month, and she was swarmed with practices to attend and jeemin would always support her friend. hence, jeemin’s stuck spending her weekends as hello kitty. not to mention all the snacks koko has bought for jeemin, so can she really complain?

wrong. she can. being stuck in a ‘friendly’ cat costume apparently meant that she was unable to fight back against angry parents and screaming children. not that she was going to anyway, but she would like the choice. she would just stare at them as they yelled at her for not giving their child a red balloon— which jeemin doesn’t even understand! it’s a balloon, their child won’t suddenly die because she gave them a yellow one!

anyway, jeemin much prefers the blue balloon. its sky blue, her favourite colour. and even through the hazy eyes of hello kitty, jeemin finds the time to admire the colour. it’s wonderful! and maybe it’s crazy, but it’s just a balloon. she wants to use hello kitty’s massive paws to slap the parents who yell at her— okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch. but jeemin was sweaty, hot and frustrated. maybe if she was in a pochacco costume, she would like it more.

“unnie— it’s hello kitty! hurry up!” jeemin hears a distant squeal and immediately groans. she appreciates the thick costume, knowing that anything she says or any sound she emits can’t be heard from the outside. the moment she turns around in the stupid fat costume, she spots a kid, probably around five to six years old, barreling at her. jeemin braces herself in case the kid crashes into her body.

“ah! kyujin, slow down!”

it’s a rather common scene; children being too excited, forcing their caretaker to sprint after them. but the uncommon part is that this kid’s unnie looks like a freaking angel that descended from the heavens.

jeemin takes back everything she said. this is the best day of her life. she loves this job. maybe everyone should just be a hello kitty mascot.

“unnie!” the girl, kyujin, whines and stomps her feet as her older sister catches up to her. jeemin can’t physically breathe. she’s about to crash out. oh no—

“what did i say about running like that?”

“it’s hello kitty!” kyujin straight up ignores her and heads towards jeemin. she awkwardly lifts up her nub of an arm to wave, but the sight of the pretty girl knocks the wind out of her lungs and she almost topples over.

jeemin tries her best to stabilise herself as kyujin waves back cutely.

the pretty girl stands behind kyujin, her hands resting on the kid’s shoulders and she inches closer to jeemin, who only resists the urge to back away.

“wow, must be hot in there,” the pretty girl frowns.

jeemin nods, or at least, tries her best to.

“can i have a balloon, hello kitty? oh, and a picture too!” kyujin asks. jeemin tries to gesture at the balloons all tied together that’s strapped to the costume. her breath hitches when the pretty girl reaches over and pulls one out, pink coloured, handing it to her sister. jeemin nearly faints.

as kyujin poses next to jeemin, the pretty girl snaps a bunch of photos. some sort of feeling akin to pride bubbles in jeemin’s stomach, knowing that the pretty girl would forever have a photo of her.

(that’s how you know she’s gone crazy.)

when kyujin gushes over the cute overalls of the costume, the pretty girl leans over, almost touching jeemin.

“can i have a balloon? i like hello kitty too,” she says in a hushed whisper. jeemin feels goosebumps rise along her skin just from her voice. and even through the shady eyes of hello kitty, jeemin can evidently tell that the girl was sculpted by the gods themselves. clearly they took their time with her. and when she pulls a balloon out for herself, jeemin gasps.

“the blue balloon’s cute, isn’t it?”

oh my god, jeemin might be falling in love right now.

she has to get married this instant— regardless of the hello kitty costume. hell, if the pretty girl likes hello kitty, jeemin would forever work in this dastardly amusement park. the girl looks so gorgeous and sweet in her cute ralph polo lauren shirt and denim shorts. she looked like she came from heaven. if someone told jeemin that the clouds parted for your arrival, she would believe it wholeheartedly.

“y/n unnie! i’m hungry!”

the pretty girl, who jeemin now knows is called y/n, turns to her sister and smiles adorably at her. jeemin doesn’t know what she would do if that smile was directed at her. it was like a ray of sunlight, shooting into her heart and lighting it on fire.

“okay sweetie, we can go get food,” you say, but before you leave, you hand your phone to kyujin and stand right next to jeemin. “help unnie take some pictures please.”

as kyujin lifts up the phone, jeemin feels your arms wrap around the neck (does hello kitty have a neck?) of her costume. jeemin only stands still, rooted to the ground and staring blankly at the camera. she can feel her heart racing, and she’s grateful for the thick suit that covers her, preventing you from feeling her pulse.

“one, two, three!” kyujin yells.

jeemin thinks she can die happy right now.

“thanks hello kitty,” you smile at her, “see you next time!”

despite the stuffy suit, perspiration dripping down her whole body, her limbs sore, jeemin still feels like the luckiest girl alive.

it’s one in the afternoon. jiyoon watches as jeemin loses her mind. she only wanted to head to the cafe to study. being friends with the employees get her discounts on drinks. and coincidentally her friends were also there. she’s just a bystander, one that accidentally walked in on her friend’s suffering. jeemin’s slumped over the table, incessantly mumbling about an angel, hello kitty and malatang. sarang and koko are right next to her, both frowning.

“are you okay?” jiyoon decides to ask cautiously.

jeemin slowly turns to look at her, “i think i’m in love.”

“uhm,” koko mutters, “i think this is my fault.”

what? was jeemin in love with koko? jiyoon blinks.

“well, you know how i have that performance coming up?” jiyoon nods, recalling koko talking about it previously. “i have a part-time job at this amusement park and i asked jeemin to take over for me just for a while! and i guess…”

jiyoon guffaws, “you fell in love there?!” she’s shocked, because this is bang jeemin. bang jeemin who’s antisocial and introverted, one of the reasons jiyoon likes her company. bang jeemin who has never gotten a crush before, deeming dating as her lowest priority. and that same bang jeemin is admitting that she’s fallen in love.

jeemin straightens up instantly, “love at first sight!”

the japanese girl fails to hide her smile as she confirms jiyoon’s suspicion, “she fell in love while wearing a hello kitty costume.”

“you’re out of your mind, bang jeemin. that’s actually insane.”

this tops anything jeemin has ever done. from falling over while doing a burpee, her voice cracking while giving a presentation, this beats everything. jeemin’s so stupid. jiyoon is so happy she can witness her downfall. it’s downright hilarious.

jeemin was truly the epitome of an oxymoron (place more emphasis on the moron part), a juxtaposition of a charming and beautiful girl, yet still so stupid and silly. jiyoon is usually in awe of how her mind works.

“she was like an angel! a true angel!” jeemin proclaims, “you guys don’t get it.”

sarang pats her back sympathetically, “it’s okay, we understand.”

jiyoon sure as hell doesn’t. but she wishes all the best for jeemin.

she’s in a similar situation like before— trapped under a heavy layer of fabric and her arms heavy. yet, she couldn’t be more excited. she was basically bouncing on feet while waiting around. if anyone saw jeemin, they would think she’s anticipating the queen’s arrival. well, you are a queen to jeemin. ugh, she kind of wishes she didn’t have to be in this stupid suit. then maybe you would see her face and fall in love with her!

jeemin thinks she’s pretty attractive herself. tall, fair skin, big round eyes. but no one has really approached her because of her quiet nature. today will be different though! jeemin will take the initiative in starting a conversation! it’ll be a little weird talking to you in the hello kitty costume but whatever. you said you like hello kitty anyway. that’s a win for jeemin. whatever she previously said about the character, throw it all out the window. only your opinion matters!

she watches eagerly as different people walk by, some stopping to take a photo with her and others just cooing at the mascot’s cuteness. jeemin tries to spot you out of the crowd of people, but it’s a little difficult to see past the netting of hello kitty’s eyes. jeemin’s head bumps uncomfortably against the top of the mascot. she wonders how koko has managed to fit herself in such a tight space while being taller than her. jeemin would proclaim to be quite flexible. she’s weak, but her limbs are really flexible. yet, the costume makes her neck crane unbearably.

just as a crowd of middle schoolers pass by, jeemin hears thundering footsteps again. her head perks up, knocking against the top of the mascot again, and she nearly falls over. both at the momentum and at the sight of kyujin running towards her.

“hello kitty!”

jeemin sports a wide smile, even if kyujin can’t see her. she tries her best to reach down, patting kyujin on her head.

“jang kyujin!” jeemin’s smile grows even bigger when she hears your voice, “what did i say about running?”

she watches as you jog up, panting and sweaty.

“sorry unnie— but it’s hello kitty!”

you have a lopsided grin on your face, clearly amused by your sister’s hyperactive behaviour. “we just saw hello kitty last week.”

“that’s too long!” kyujin whines. jeemin coos internally at the sight of the girl. she was just too cute! cuteness really does run in the family, evident from the silly smile on your face.

jeemin’s grateful for her face being covered. she wouldn’t know what expression’s on her right now.

like before, kyujin takes a balloon, white this time, and you whip out your phone to photograph her again.

when there’s a distant ringing of bells, kyujin perks up and instantly turns to you, eyes pleading.

“that’s the ice cream truck coming— unnie, can we please go?” kyujin begs. you hesitate, a speculating look on your face. your younger sister’s watery eyes and pouty lips always manage to sway your decisions. damnit. jeemin watches, humoured by kyujin’s plea.

“how about we wait here for the truck to come?” you ask, bending down to match kyujin’s height, “unnie’s feeling really hot right now.” jeemin watches the trickle of sweat glide down your neck. she feels seen.

kyujin frowns, “but i want ice cream now. and it’ll cool you up! just wait here, unnie. i can go get it myself!”

you’re a little shocked at her independence. when did your little sister grow up so quickly? and her insistent attitude only worked wonders to your reluctance.

“okay, jinnie. but be careful.” kyujin brightens up and immediately sprints to the ice cream truck. you sigh, keeping a close eye on her as she queues up.

turning your head, you make eye contact with the hello kitty mascot, who’s hellbent on staring at you.

“oh,” you giggle, jeemin thinks she’s ascended to heaven, “they grow up so fast, don’t they?”

jeemin tries her best to nod.

“anyway, isn’t it hot in there?” you ask, “i’m sweating just from looking at you.”

jeemin’s throat drys up as she thinks of a suitable reply. she had hyped herself up in the mirror before coming, claiming to be the one to start the conversation.

“uh, y-yes.” of course her voice cracks.

god, jeemin wishes the ground underneath her would just open up and swallow her whole. your eyes curve and twinkle with amusement.

“you’re a girl?”

“yes.”

you smile, “not fond of talking then?”

jeemin doesn’t mind if it’s you. she doesn’t say that though. it would just mortify her.

“i’m just tired.”

“aw, must be hard,” you coo. if it were anyone else, jeemin would think that those words were meant to mock her. but your sweet tone makes her gulp.

“yeah… i’m just doing this for a friend…”

“like a favour?”

“kind of.”

you redirect your gaze back to kyujin, who’s ordering now. jeemin feels a little saddened that your time with her is ending soon. she wishes kyujin would take a little longer at the counter.

“so is that friend going to come back? you’re not going to work here anymore?” you ask curiously. some deluded part of jeemin thinks you’re asking because you want to see her.

“yeah, she’s coming back.”

you nod, “well, it was nice chatting with you, hello kitty.” jeemin suddenly feels stupid in this suit. “i have to go now. bye!”

“uh, bye!”

jeemin watches as you hold kyujin’s small hand, thanking her for the ice cream. her dreamy gaze lingers on your back as you walk away, mentally patting herself on the shoulder for managing to carry a conversation with you. an awkward one, yes, but still a conversation. she can’t wait to brag to her friends.

which sane person would go to their job on their day-off, jeemin doesn’t know. but that was what koko had proposed. she gawked as koko brought her and their whole friend group to the amusement park. the girl had professed that she missed the place and it would be a good way to spend time with each other before everyone got swarmed with their own extracurriculars.

but before she could even disagree to come, koko had mentioned offhandedly, “maybe your girl will be there.”

and jeemin had gone in a flash, picking out an outfit and doing her makeup. it was kind of comedic and endearing to see her so eager.

“uhm— unnie,” jungeun says, wide-eyed, “you look pretty today.” jeemin grins brightly, patting the younger girl’s head. her chest flared with pride and anticipation. hope had filled her veins, and she was desperate to see you today, bare without the hello kitty costume.

as their group headed into the park, koko and jeemin, as well-seasoned employees, brought them to the various roller coasters and rides. jeemin was pretty sure she lost most of her hearing sitting next to saebi.

“guys,” sarang whines, “i’m hungry.” jeemin instantly perks up, dragging her friends to the stalls that lined the park, full of snacks and beverages. koko just glances at her knowingly. the sanrio attraction was situated nearby, and jeemin could been seen craning her head to catch a glimpse of anyone that resembled you. like a true mastermind, jeemin forces everyone to sit down at the bench closest to the hello kitty booth, where the familiar mascot was.

as her friends gorge themselves with waffle cones, churros and corndogs, jeemin stays attentive. she doesn’t even indulge in their mindless conversation and instead keeps a watchful eye on the people passing by.

it’s only when her friends are finished and getting ready to leave, she hears a voice.

“—you’re a guy? what happened to the other girl?”

jeemin abruptly stands up, swerving her head. she sees you, awkwardly rubbing your neck as you talk to the hello kitty mascot. kyujin’s by your side, a balloon in her hand.

“go talk to her!” jiyoon shouts quietly, pushing jeemin towards you. collecting all the bravery in her bones, she inhales sharply and strides. she can feel the eyes of all her friends on her back.

“today’s her day-off?” she hears you say, “ah, seriously? okay, sorry for the trouble.” the hello kitty mascot just shakes their hands and walks away to another group of children.

just as you’re about to leave, jeemin feels a surge of desperation, and her hand reaches out to clasp your wrist. her heart races as you turn, an eyebrow raising at her.

“sorry— i’m…” she blurts out, “i’m sorry.”

she can feel her whole face turning red, and a sense of mortification blooms at your stunned expression.

“i’m the… i’m hello kitty,” jeemin says and it’s definitely not the best way to introduce herself. she watches as your face lights up in recognition of her voice.

“oh? hello kitty?”

“y-yeah, like… uhm, the person inside the hello kitty mascot? sorry, i’m bang jeemin.” she feels a little self-conscious the way kyujin is staring at her. damn, these kids always find a way to humiliate her further.

“do you want to sit down and talk? kyujin’s a little restless.”

she glances back at her table of friends, all who look suspiciously joyful. yeah, she’d much rather talk to you somewhere else. that way her friends couldn’t eavesdrop. jeemin thinks you look even prettier today. your face was glowing and bright. and she could admire your smile more closely without the film of plastic in between.

“y/n-ah,” jeemin’s never heard this voice before— feminine and comforting, her eyes land on a girl, shorter than her, approaching.

jeemin’s first thought is that this girl is incredibly pretty. her cat-like visuals next to you only accentuates your beauty even more. her second thought is that this girl is definitely your girlfriend, from the way her hand wraps around your waist so casually.

“mai unnie!” kyujin squeals.

suddenly, she feels way too out of place. her confidence dwindles and she can register the sympathy from her friends. jeemin tries to hide her obvious shock, but she’s certain it fails when kyujin frowns at her.

“hey, silly,” you greet, “do you mind if you take kyujin for a while?”

mai removes her hand from your waist (jeemin sighs, relieved), and takes kyujin’s hand.

as the two walk away, you lead jeemin to a nearby cafe. jeemin’s not even sure she wants to be here now. the dreadful thought of you already being taken looms over her, and it’s strange how she’s never visited that idea before. of course you would have a partner, who wouldn’t want to date you? now she just feels silly. silly, like what you called mai.

you find an empty table facing out the window. jeemin can feel her phone vibrating in her pocket, probably the group chat blowing up with messages. there was no doubt that they had witnessed that interaction.

“so,” you lean over the table, grinning, “hello kitty.”

jeemin nods bashfully.

“yeah, uhm… i wasn’t stalking you or anything… just recognised you.”

a complete lie.

“what a coincidence. i didn’t expect you to be so cute.”

what. pause. are you flirting with her?

jeemin’s heart constricts, both of glee and pain, knowing that you already had someone. she smiles faintly. she doesn’t want your pity flirtatious comments. it feels stifling.

“i thought you’d be working today,” you say when the silence stretches on, “you came here with friends?”

“uh, yeah. what about you?” she asks, trying to camouflage the itching need of knowing who that girl was.

you laugh, “it’s just kyujin, i mean, you know her. and mai, that girl just now.”

“mai?” jeemin repeats, edging you on.

“yeah, kyujin was telling her how fun the park is and she wanted to come too. it’s better having her around. she keeps kyujin in check, making it less stressful for me.”

jeemin feels a sense of hopelessness. mai seemed like a great person, she wouldn’t be able to compete with that. she already had kyujin’s favour!

“uhm…” she had to get out of here now. before she could embarrass herself, “i think my friends are calling me.”

you blink.

“you’re leaving now?”

“yeah,” she croaks out, an onslaught of tears ready to bawl out as she thinks about you and mai together again.

you pout, “can i get your number then? or instagram?”

jeemin wants to shake her head and say no, but denying your pleading eyes, akin to kyujin’s, can only be compared to ripping her heart out.

she shakily inputs her username in your search engine— only to find that it’s been in your history. her lips part slightly, a little appalled. bbangmin. right there. holy shit.

you glance at her unmoving figure. worried, you peek over the screen and gasp.

“oh my god— wait, okay,” you babble, “it’s not what it looks like.”

jeemin swallows harshly.

“i… okay just hear me out.”

“o-okay.”

“after our conversation i asked mai if she had a friend who works here and she said she knew someone,” you explain sheepishly, ”someone called koko? and then mai asked koko about it and we kind of connected the dots that the friend you were talking about was her.”

jeemin can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“and like, god, this is weird to say,” you grimace, “but koko told mai that her friend, jeemin, was helping her out and then i kind of stalked you— i’m sorry! but that’s why your username popped up…”

“you already knew what i looked like?”

you nod, “i’m so sorry…”

“no— it’s, it’s okay,” jeemin says, her heart racing a mile. you looked way too cute right now, blushing and nervous. her hands were trembling as you explained, and your interest could only mean one thing, right?

“i kind of lied just now,” she whispers, “i came here today to see you, like without the costume.”

your own eyes widen.

“oh. well.”

“yeah.”

you suddenly laugh, full of joy, “i can’t believe this.” jeemin feels the same. it’s so unbelievable that you also orchestrated a plan to find her.

“so, can i have your number?” you ask slyly.

jeemin has never typed faster in her life.

(“mai’s really just a friend by the way.”

“i didn’t say anything…!”

“c’mon, jeemin. i saw the way you were glaring at her just now. she’s really just a friend.”

“but kyujin likes her more than me…”

“does it matter when i like you the most?”)

#izna #izna x reader #izna x fem reader #bang jeemin x fem reader #bang jeemin x reader #jeemin x fem reader #jeemin x reader

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kenobers · 1 month ago

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anyway, here’s a preview of the next jason + sionis!reader fic | 18+

tw; reader’s an asshole maybe? a girl failure, perhaps?

"I said, 'are you sober'. You look sober. Are you?"

Jason Todd blinks, like he still doesn't quite understand the question. He straightens his posture, jostling the untouched pint of something between his middle finger and thumb.

"I-yeah, I am. Are you?"

You cross your arms, roll your eyes again and ignore the question. Obviously, you're sober.

"Do you know who I am?"

He looks you over thoughtfully. His gaze conveniently lingers on the pop of your hip and the cleavage peeking out of your ruby neckline. Exactly where you want it. You snicker; so maybe he's a little slow, but at least he doesn't seem to be blind.

"You're Sionis' kid, aren't you? It's been a hot minute," Jason leans forward a little, magically more invested in the conversation. The ginger man standing next to him pauses his attempts to woo a brunette to raise an eyebrow at you.

"My dad hates you."

He scoffs, taking a half hearted sip of his beer.

"And bears shit in the woods, what else is new?"

You don't remember him having that stupid white streak in his too-well-tousled hair. It was sexy. You hated it.

"Fuck me."

IPA dribbles down his idiotically strong chin. His mouth goes a little slack as he blinks once again, harder and longer this time.

"What?"

Ugh, again with the repetition.

"Fuck me. Have sex with me," you reiterate as nonchalantly as if you're asking him to move over.

The redhead next to him starts cackling. Jason glowers at him, shoving the drink into his hand with one arm while pulling you closer with the other. It only takes him a gentle tug to pull your chest to broad chest. He leans down so his lips brush against your ear.

"Hey, you sure you're sober?"

The warmth of his breath in contrast with his mouth, still cool from his glass, sends a shiver down your spine.

"I'm dead sober."

"Okay, you see how I might doubt that given you just walked up to me and asked me to have sex with you."

You push him away and it's like pushing into a brick wall. A very muscular brick wall. "Look, Wayne-"

"Todd."

"Whatever. Even if I wanted to drink, I couldn't because my father drained my entire bank account."

Jason tilts his head, causing a lock of white hair to fall across his crooked nose.

"And why'd he do that?"

You hum amiably, curling your pretty maroon nails around his thick forearm.

"I'll tell you if you fuck me," you promise, batting your eyelashes as you place your other hand over his heart. Much to your frustration, his heartbeat is slow and steady. His sharp face has lost its earlier shock. He looks at ease, pleasantly entertained, with a slight smirk and a cocked slitted eyebrow.

"I think that's called extortion, baby girl."

"It's only extortion if I'm threatening you," you snap back. You should know, your father's an expert in it. You take a small breath, smoothing out your tone again, "I'm just keeping my business to myself. So, I'd call this more of a quid pro quo."

"It's a quid pro quo if I'm getting something substantial out of it," he says this but at the same time, two large hands are sliding over your hips with a featherlight touch. His nails briefly press into your skin.

Something in your belly tightens. Maybe he’s a more worthy opponent than you’d initially assumed.

You tip your head up as you stand on your tiptoes and sneak your much smaller hands under his jacket, brushing up his warm sides. He sucks in a sharp breath.

"If you really had no desire to fuck me, this conversation would've ended by now,” your voice is dripping in something venomously sweet. “And I'm not going to claim I have any idea of what's happening in your own business, but if I had to take a wild guess as to who in this room has the most to gain from fucking Roman Sionis' daughter, you'd be at the top of the list. Even if it's just for the bragging rights."

"You're worth more than just bragging rights, princess,” he says, rolling a fold of your dress between his fingers with a condescending shake of his head. You wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from underneath.

"Prove it."

"...and you're sure you're sober?"

"Wanna test my breath?"

He snorts at your bad line, but his index and thumb are already caging your chin between them. He considers you for one more moment, then kisses you.

You can taste the single sip of beer, but it’s not as strong as the fading taste of a cigarette. His lips move against yours with intent, as if seeking out a falter in your sobriety. Their search comes up empty, leaving behind nothing but a thin string of spit and the overwhelming desire for more of him.

"What's your plan then? Risk it in a bathroom stall?"

You loath how utterly girlish the grin on your lips is.

"Nah, I know a spot upstairs."

#posting this to force myself to finish the whole fic #just need the ending i swear #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd/reader #jason todd/you #red hood/reader #red hood/you #jason todd #red hood #bat family #kenobers poetics #jason todd headcanon

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raineydays411 · 1 year ago

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My fathers daughter pt 12

It all comes out sometime

"Jay?" You ask.

"Yeah its me. How the fuck did you get access to the coms?" He asks amused at your actions.

"Trust me hacking this isn't any harder than hydra files" You say passively, " Anyways that's not important, I think I can help with this Joker thing."

"Wait? Really?" He ask seriously, "Y/n, listen carefully, I need you to go into Bruce's office and find the big ass clock --"

"Yeah I already found the secret hide out" You say annoyed, "Mommy dearest kicked me out before I could tell her how I could help."

Jason sighed, knowing that his mother probably tried to use her mom voice on you. " Yeah, she told us she didn't want you to be in the whole vigilante think."

The anger that was simmering under your skin came back, but before you let it get the best of you, you continued. Knowing that this information was more important than whatever mommy issues you had.

"Right, well that's not important." You say," Listen to me now."

"I'm listening." Jason grunted, sounding like was punching someone,

"Whatever chemical agent Jackass put in his venom is the exact same stuff that was used to brainwash the Winter Soldier" You say quickly.

"Kid, I wanna believe you but how do you know that? Tim was just able to get a sample and process it."

"Because, I was told that every antidote you use only makes the effects stronger right?"

"Right" He says strained

"In order to make sure that the Winter Soldier stayed the Winter Soldier and not Bucky, Hydra had to make sure his brain produced a certain amount of hormones. And that whatever anybody used, the effects couldn't reverse. Hence chemical X."

"Chemical X?"

"The name is to long for me to attempt to pronounce, anyways, lucky for us, my daddy just so happened to create a serum that undoes Chemical X. And if I check," You pause, taking over the computer downstairs, and checking the sample Tim had sent in, " The component is there."

"Well I'll be damned"

"Exactly. Now, I need you to find a lab or something. This serum was made with the intention of being made on the fly. So everything you need should be there." You say pulling up a map of Gotham general.

"Wait, I need to tell Bruce." Jason said, " Joker said he had the only antidote and he's fighting him right now"

"No thats not possible. The only ones who know about it is my father and I." You said worridly.

Meanwhile while you were upstair lending a helping hand, downstairs Christine and Alfred were panicking because they lost control of Jason's com and the main computer.

'Alfred I can't find him" Christinen cried, " How did he just disappear like that?

"I don't know miss, there's no possible way he could've."

"Wait." Christine says looking up to the screen, " Bruce and Tim are gone"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How did you get con-"

"It's not important" You say cutting Batman off, " Listen to me, Joker doesn't have the cure."

"How do you know that?" The dark knight asks skeptically

"Because, until my dad figured it out, there was no cure." You say impatiently, " This chemical wasn't intended to have a cure."

"But you figured it out?"

"YES" You shout frustrated at the constant repetition, " DO you want the step by step or do you want to save lives?"

"hm" Bruce grunted, " And you know how to make it?"

"I do." You say earnestly

There was a pause, you heard grunting and what sounded like fighting in the background.

On Bruce's side, he managed to get the Joker disarmed and tied up.

He searched him for what he claimed was the vial containing the cure. But upon finding it, the Joker decided to throw his head back connecting with Batman's face. The sudden impact caused him to drop the vial, shattering it on the linoleum floor. The liquid oozing out and burning a hole into the floor.

"Ooops" the Joker cackled, " Aww poor Batsy, I guess I may have told a little white lie"

As Bruce rose from the floor, Robin ran in holding another vial

"Batman, the antidote." He says with a stern look on his face.

The smug smile fell from the Jokers face as he looked at the preteen.

"Thats...that's not possible!" Joker cried out, " There is no cure. There was never a cure."

Batman looked Joker straight in the eye, " No Joker, it looks like you miscalculated."

And with that, a swift punch to the face knocked the Joker out. A breath of relief flowed from the Batfamily. Now they can focus on what really mattered, helping the infected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in your room you paced, after explaining how to make the cure, you hadn't hear back from the family. The anxiety you had building up in you made your heart feel as of it was going to explode.

"Y/n" Jasons voice came from your computer, " It worked."

You felt like crying, " Really? Are you for real?'

"No I'm lying and everyone died" Jason said sarcastically, " Yes I'm for real."

"Thank god" You said wetly

"Oh god are you crying?" Jason said uncomfortably

"No." and with that you disconnected, allowing access back to the main computer downstairs. After doing that you sat on your be, taking a couple deep breaths to calm yourself. But the tears kept flowing. You were so worried that you didn't get the information to Bruce on time. You were worried about the people that were exposed for too long. The ones that the antidote may not have worked on.

You may have been able to help a few but how many more could you have saved if you were listened to right away. The anger simmered back in your body.

You hated that Christine treated you as if you were a child. She completely disregarded what you had to say and took a shot at your father. At least he was smart enough to know that you were capable of more than just sitting and twiddle your thumbs.

You had half a mind to go down there and give her a piece of you mind. But before you could, a chime came from your phone

"Hey Starky! guess who's on the neighborhood <3"

Wade?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the Batman co. finally made it back to the cave they all were exhausted. Every single one of them wanted to get home and take a shower. Dick and Jason would be staying at the manor simply because they couldn't muster up the energy to make their respective journeys back home. Damian and Cass were knocked out in the back of the batmobile and even Bruce was having a hard time staying awake while driving.

Honestly, ever since his family was created, Bruce/Batman became less about vengeance and more about protecting the city that he and his family live and care about. And maybe, if there was anyway that he can help mend the relationship between your family and his, perhaps you can be a part of his team as well, as sad at it was to say your hacking skills were way above his and Tims.

Lost in thought, Bruce didn't realized that when he pulled in Christine was in borderline hysterics and Alfred looked a little more frazzled than usual.

"Oh! Bruce!", Christine cried throwing herself into the confused bat, " What happened?! Is everyone one okay?"

"Christine, darling what are you-" Bruce was puzzled, Christine always had somewhat of a flair for the dramatics but there should be no reason for her to be this worried, especially because she's able to see everything .

"I thought we lost you! All of you!" Christine cried, eyes welling up with tears," The coms cut our for what felt like hours and then the main computer crashed! Me and Alfred both were barely able to get it rebooted before you got here!"

"Wait, if the main computer crashed then how was Y/n able to talk to us through the coms?" Tim asked tiredly, only jolting awake when Jason harshly elbowed him, signaling him to shut up about your participation.

"What do you mean? Y/n has been in her room this whole time." Christine says with a look of confusion on her face.

The batfamily all looked at each other, silently daring each other to step up and tell the truth, and face the wrath of their mother. Even Bruce didn't want to rat you out, knowing where Christine stood on her thoughts of you being involved.

Now don't get the wrong idea, Christine is by definition an overprotective mother. Theres no doubt about that. But there is a reason as to why she wants you out of the hero life and spot life in general.

Firstly, you are Tony Stark's daughter. There is no getting around that. And being Tony Stark's daughter also means you're Iron Mans daughter. And that is the whole reason you are there in Gotham in the first place. Amidst all the familial drama, everybody seemed to forget that you are still being hunted by an anonymous group. But Christine hasn't. Every night she lies awake worried to death that that was the night they found you. That they would come for you.

Secondly, the villians that her husband and family deal with are...for lack of words psychoic. If they figured out that you, Iron mans daughter, was helping their enemy Batman there would be more people after you. And from what Christine has witnessed these people do, the horrors and atrocities they casually commit. That frightens her even more.

So, with that being said, the look on her families face and the circumstances that had just occurred, it wasn't hard for her to figure out the cause of their technical malfunctions. And what a coincidence that these malfunctions only happened after you were sent to your room.

"Bruce.", Christine said in a clam even tone, " What are you not telling me." She didn't ask she demanded.

"Darling." Bruce said in a pleading tone, " It was a long night for everybody, why don't we just discuss it in the morning"

"Discuss it in the morning?" Christine asked incredulously, " Discuss it in the morning?! Do you know how worried I was? How worried WE were" She gestures to herself and Alfred who looked mildly uncomfortable to be put in the argument, " We thought you were injured or worse DEAD!"

The kids tried to slowly back out, inching towards the elevator that you totally didn't know was there.

"Don't even think about it" Christine said without looking at them, " How dare you all? How dare you? I asked ALL of you for one simple thing. Just one. To keep her OUT of it."

"Christine that's hardly fair-" Bruce started to say before getting cut off.

"No! It is totally fair! There are PEOPLE after her. People who are still out there by the way! Tony and his team haven't been able to find them! They keep slipping away whenever they get close! They are out there, trying to get MY daughter, for god knows what!"

Bruce glances towards the staircase entrance but before he can say anything Christine goes on, " DO you understand how hard it has been to keep anything from this world from her!"

"Ma she grew up in this world, it's not fair to just cut her out" Jason cuts in, " She feels left out because we're all pretending like we aren't who we are and pretending as of we don't have The Tony Starks daughter in our house. She's not a civilian, she's in it."

"She is not just Tonys daughter she's mine too!" Christine shouts before tears start to drop from her eyes, " Shes MINE, she can't be taken from me."

In the batmobile, Cass buries her face into a sleeping Damians chest.

"Mom, do you think any of us would let that happen?" Dick finally speaks up, " I mean, come on have a little faith"

" I just wanted her to stay out of it, to get out for good."

" Darling, that girl was not made to stay out of things, look at whp her parents are," Bruce chuckled, " Besides, she's never going to come around if we don't fully open ourselves up to her as well."

"You have to admit Ma, fighting is the only way any of us bonded" Jason says, " Except me, she likes me."

"I don't know why " Dick says with a frown, still bitter at the fact that you had bonded with Jason before him.

Christine sniffled before saying, " I still need to go talk to her, the way she cut us off was unacceptable."

"But-" Tim finally spoke out but it was too late, Christine was already marching to the elevator, mind made up about scolding you for what she thought was a practical joke.

The rest of the team was left in the Bat cave shaking their heads at their mothers stubbornness.

Bruce's sighed and started to put things away, " There's going to be fight and I don't want to be in the middle of that."

The three awake boys nodded.

" Someone wake up Damian and Cass, they need to go to bed."

Jason and Dick pushed Tim forward, if there was one other thing they didn't want to get in the middle of, was those two and their sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back upstairs you were filled to the brim with anger. You had gone downstairs to greet the returning heroes and rub your success in Christines face, only to overhear what you had already confirmed.

Christine had been purposefully keeping things from you. Not only about Bruce being Batman ( Which you already knew), but about your situation.

See, when you had first moved to Gotham, you knew that there would be almost little to no contact with your family. The few times you were able to talk to someone from back home it wasn't even your parents. Something about phone lines being traceable and unreliable.

The only line of communication was given to you by Natasha before you left, a single flip burner phone that was only to be used for emergencies.

But Christine apparently was getting updates directly from your father. Updates you were sure were meant to be given to you. So not only had she had a hand in the intentional isolation of you from her family, she was trying to isolate you from yours as well.

It made you so angry! You already have sacrificed so much just to be here and you didn't even want to be there in the first place. You ripped open your laptop and went to do a little digging. Upon doing that, you found about a dozen of lengthy emails from your father describing in great lengths about your situation and details about life back home. These emails were obviously meant to be read by you and they all were marked as read and filed away. How they got to the Batcomputer was unknown to you but as you scanned each word tears welled up into your eyes, you father had not forgot about you.

You sat on the bed, taking deep breaths trying to calm down. You managed to restrain yourself and not blow up at that woman in front of her whole family and you really were trying to calm down so you can have a mature conversation about it.

You were trying.

but then, "Y/n Stark how dare you disobey your mother!"

What?

"What?" You say eyes ripping open and anger finally bubbling over

"How dare you! I asked you for one thing! All I wanted was to make sure my family would have been okay!"

"And are they dead?" You ask bluntly, " Is everyone who was infected dead?"

Christine turned red, " That is not the point young lady and I don't appreciate you talking about your family like that."

"They are NOT my family!" You shout, " You are not my family"

'Y/n" Christine start but now you were the one to cut her off

"NO, and since we are on the topic of not appreciating things lets talk about how I don't appreciate how you have been deliberately LYING to me."

"Excuse me?" Christine asks angrily, " I will have you know that I do not have to disclose every single piece of information I have to yo."

" Not even when it's about my own father." You said with an even tone, " Or do you not have to disclose that piece of information to me."

Christine lifts her chine, " Y/n I have no idea what you are talking about?"

"Oh you don't?" You ask," So you and your husband aren't hiding emails from my father to me in that big ass computer?"

Eyes widen, " How do you -"

"How do I know about that?" You mock, " So it's true?"

"Y/n that's not the point" Christine started, " Your practical joke could have seriously put the lives of your siblings in danger."

" My siblings?" You ask, " They are not my siblings! I don't even know those people!"

Christine stays quiet, then shakes her head, " If you would just come out of the room and get to know them other than Jason-"

"Why so they could tell me how great you are?' You say, " So they can tell me memories they have of you being a good mother to them?"

Christine's eyes well up with tears, " Y/n that's not fair"

"Oh that not fair to you, mom?" you shout, " And it was so fair to me when you left me to raise another kid?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the hallway Dick and Jason are paused half way up the staircase.

Dicks heart falls into his stomach at your comment, knowing that that kid you were talking about was him.

Jason on the other hand had a grim look on his face. He knew that this conversation needed to happen in order for anything to move on.He knew the years of resentment you were holding on to. It wasn't fair to you that everyone in this house had this subconscious expectation that you should just put those years behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That is not what happened" Christine says wetly, " It was just hard, Y/n you don't understand."

"Hard?!" You shout angerliy, " It was hard? Hard for you to visit your daughter once every three fucking months? Was it hard for you to lead my dad on then crush his heart every time you left?"

"NO Y/N thats not true" Christine shouted but before she could continue you went on

"No???" you mocked, " Then what was it mom?"

" Everytime I went to see you, you had grown." Christine sniffs, " You had grown and had new adventures and stories and milestones that i was not a part of. I-"

"OH bullshit!" You shout

"Y/n." Christine says sadly

"NO, no you don't get to play that card! You left by choice!" You cry, " You left me by choice, you hid me away by choice! You chose this life for us."

" I loved you so much. I LOVE you so much Y/n!"

"You have a funny way of showing it." You say dryly, " You have this perfect life here. Perfect husband, a shit load of kids who adore you. I adored you. Why wasn't I enough?"

Christine's heartbroke and she couldn't answer you because truthfully, she didn't have an answer.

"And the one parent I was enough for I had to leave. I had to leave him and my mother behind for my other one who didn't want me. And I'm stuck in a house full of these kids who adore you and didn't know that I adored you well before them. And yet even though I'm here I'm alone. And that still isn't enough for you."

Christine wanted to say you weren't alone. You weren't because you have her. She's here for you, but that wasn't true. She hadn't been there. She wasn't there even when she was.

"You had to make me think my father forgot about me the way you did for what? So I can like you again? So I could forget all the times you promised you were going to come see me and you didn't? Why?"

"I..I just wanted to keep you safe.." Christine spouted pathetically.

"Safe?" You said, herding her towards your door, " No, everything you've done is because you want to look better. You're selfish. That's what you've always been"

And with that you slam the door in her face, startling the boys on the stairs and Christine as she didn't even realize that she was in the hallway.

Staring at your door she wept. For once, truly feeling the regret that she said she had been feeling. She did truly love you, she had not lied about that. To hear you finally say how you weren't enough for her broke her heart.

"Ma..are you okay?" Jason softly asked as Dick went to knock at your door, a bit angry at the way you spoke to his mother,

"Leave her be." A soft voice demanded from the hallway, " Dick, leave her be. Your mother was not the only one hurt in that conversation."

Bruce walked to Christine, and gently lead her to their room.

Upon the commotion outside, no one heard you open your window and slip out.

"It's about time, I almost died waiting for you."

"You can't die, that's your whole thing." You reply, wiping tears from your face.

"You're crying." Wade says in an unnaturally serious voice, " Do I have to kill your hot mom?"

You cringe, " No, just get me out of here."

"I could do that, actually I have a surprise for you~" He sings as he leads you to his taxi...

You heard what sounds like banging coming from the trunk and you're slightly scared to open it.

"Wade.."

"Oh don't be a pussy" He says opening the trunk.

Popping out with a gasp is

"Peter?" You say with a sigh, eyes welling up with tears again. You truly have missed your friends.

"That was not cool Wade!" He shouts, not grasping where he was, " The trunk smelled like nachos and vomit! I couldn't nngh-"

He grunts as you throw yourself into his arms, " Y/n.."

His arms wrap around you tightly, " Y/n what are you.. Where am I?"

"Gotham, now get me the hell out of here."

And with that, you're loaded into the car, taking the backseat with Peter and Wade in the front with an Indian man.

"Y/n this is Dopiender"

"Hello ms. Stark, I promise I will defend you with my life."

"Oh...well, thank you."

"This was surprisingly easy." Wade said as they pulled out of the long driveway, " Bruce Wayne should update his security."

What they didn't know, was that a pair of bright green eyes watched your reunion through the security camera in the Batcave. Squinting as they saw the tears flow freely through your face and noting the license plate and the men you were with.

#marvel x reader #avengers x teen!reader #marvel #reader insert #dc comics x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #x reader

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plutosbow · 6 months ago

Text

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི , tgm — bradley bradshaw x f!reader

`` 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧' , 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧' ? ``

summary: a sunday morning of sleeping in calls for your specialty; half-burnt pancakes. but it's always the effort that charms bradley, anyway.

warnings: none! just some silly fluff and perhaps bradley pining over you (isn't he always?)

note: this is the first little blurb i've decided to flesh out more than others, lmk if i should start posting my stuffs :3, (i don't really know how tumblr works but if anyone has some requests for miles teller characters i'd totally try to do them!)

there was a soft light that beckoned itself into the bedroom, like a staircase to heaven as your dreary-minded eyes followed its path onto bradley's visage. right through the crack in the blind that he always complained about since it only ever reached his side of the bed — that thought made it impossible to stop a smile from tugging at your lips.

his expression twisted in his slumber, eyes wiring tightly shut in a feeble attempt to drown out the warm rays adorning his face. you always felt bad, but thanked the sun silently in the end because it allowed for domestic tidbits like this to be available to you - and only you. shifting at a snail's pace beneath the covers, you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his temple before rolling from the warm confines of the bed.

as much as you enjoyed your times of quiet with bradley, you enjoyed treating him to the little things in life even more. a day at home with your boyfriend called for celebration because you knew just as well as him that these moments were fleeting. downtime was barely even a word between the two of you, but that was the price paid when dating a pilot — and unfortunately, he was worth every ounce of worry that plagued you when he walked out the door with death hanging over his head.

but, he was here now. that's what mattered.

you were swift in preparing breakfast, perhaps a bit too swift as you clumsily forgot to spray the pan before pouring pancake batter into it. it spat and hissed at you, like it was wincing in agony and trying to bane you to hell before it died. you couldn't dwell on it, though, not when it still managed to make the kitchen smell like sweet dough and something nostalgic sprinkled in beneath the waft of burning batter.

a second pan was laid down, and this time it was methodical enough to have been prepped for eggs that plopped down into its gentle dip. a much kinder sizzle ensued, earning a satisfied hum from your lips as you went on tending to the curdling pancakes (could they even be called that, now?). the aroma of them crying for help was enough to rouse the grizzly bear from his surprisingly light hibernation — only let on by the groan that was pouty enough to put any sassy teenage girl to shame.

you didn't look back on account of the fact that you were trying not the burn the eggs — not on fire, which was a feat in itself — and you just assumed he would shuffle his way in and groggily mutter something about waking up 'so early', and then plop down at the counter while he waited for the meal. that was too generous of an idea, though, because his former growl from the bedroom had not been out of frustration (well, sort of), but out of a longing for you to have been in bed beside him.

thick, calloused fingers snaked their way around your waist and curled into the tender flesh of your hips, earning a soft hum from your throat. it was a sound that bradley had grown fond of, whether you be pining for his attention or whining at his incessant teasing — he could always count on that sweet, purring hum to fall from those pretty lips.

"my lady, my lady," he rasped, voice dry and scratchy as he recited his little morning mantra. his head dipped down, nose pushing your hair out of the way as his face pressed into your nape. you can't stifle the soft giggle that bubbles up in your throat at the tickle of his mustache and slightly stubbled chin. "i was expectin' .. room service .. on this fine mornin'?"

you scoff with a roll of your eyes, flipping the eggs and using this motion to elbow him in the gut. he tenses and grunts, hands gripping the gentle dip of your hips like they were a safety blanket to him.

"room service costs extra, mister bradshaw," you tut, grabbing the pancake-contaminated spatula to begin painstakingly scraping them off of the poor pan. "and i'll have you know, i am not a cheap commodity." your words earn a low chuckle from his crackling throat, lips migrating from your nape to your ear, his mouth finding your earlobe to give it a small nibble - just innocent enough for a morning like this.

"a high-end gem such as yourself must be making somethin' extravagant, no?" bradley chuffs softly, peeking down at the pans as his chin rested into the dip of your shoulder. he winces idly at the scraping sounds that ensue from your assault on the .. pancakes?.. his brows crease, and he bites his tongue for a moment.

you .. never were the finest cook in the world.

bradley found that worth more than any perfect dish.

"hm," he clicks his tongue before you even had a chance to respond, "flapjacks with a side of black tar 'n soppen eggs; gourmet." the pilot cooed, making you laugh and frown simultaneously at his unfiltered jab at your skills. you always knew the effort payed off more in his eyes than the actual taste of the food (thank goodness). you flip the ashy, flaking pancakes onto a plate and try tending to the barely edible eggs, but it seems all too lost as you resort to just turning the burner off.

even though you knew he never minded your ineptitude in the kitchen, it was moreso a personal duel when it came to your absentminded degradation over your failures.

"good-lookin'," came that husky voice, tinged with slight guilt after realizing you hadn't responded to his silly jab after some time now. a hand trails up your abdomen to let the pad of his thumb run along the edge of your jaw. you can't see his face, but one can assume his brows are quirked in silent question with a hint of a plea in hopes you'll forgive him (silly. over something that never even hurt you to begin with). it earns a soft giggle from somewhere in your chest.

"i bought extra syrup last errand run to make sure you can drown out the taste of mustard gas, my love." you hum, swaying a bit as you shift away from the counter and squirm around to finally face your big ol' grizzly bear. at your words, that exact expression you expected to see from before quickly lightened. a crooked grin curled up on his stupidly kissable lips and his head tilted almost expectantly.

"maybe i like my breakfast with a lil' bit of radioactivity." bradley retorts before burying his face into your neck, letting his stache poke at your flesh and make you squeal and wiggle around. now satisfied at your ticklish state, he grumbles something inaudible and presses open-mouthed kisses against your exposed collarbone. his tongue is too dry to really give you the full effect, so he compensates and gives your ass a good and satisfying squeeze.

you squeak at that, letting one hand curl into his tousled up locks while the other drifts down his bare back. he keens at the sensation of you tugging his hair, broad arms consuming you further like a moth to a flame — your body a burning star in his foggy vision. he keeps kissing, not lingering long enough to suck against the skin but it fills you with contentment anyway, because the softness of the embrace is far more fulfilling than sex could ever be in that moment.

he was more desperate than a starved dog, it showed in the way his grasping motions along your body were so fervent yet .. straining to be tame. your thumb rubbed against his scalp and you sway absently along the kitchen tiles with him, breakfast merely an afterthought as your bodies consume one another in their loving warmth.

"missin' ya so much. all the time, sweetheart." bradley murmurs, hoarse voice tugged by the vulnerability rearing its ugly head in his heart. you crane your neck and hum softly, lips pressing into his temple to leave a warm, wet kiss in their wake. it was an action that always hushed his aching mind when it was on the cusp of spiraling, something only you could ever do for him — a jockey who soothes their racehorse that froths at the mouth before each race.

"i'll always be here, honey. always gonna make you shitty breakfast, always gonna tolerate that loud mouth a' yours." you mumble against his prickly, stubbled face. the soft, whiney sigh that slips from his lips reassures you that your words, in fact, soothed the raging stallion in your grasp.

his mouth latches onto your collarbone once more, this time lingering for a beat too long and making a suctioned pop as he pulled back. cloudy hazel eyes peer down at you while his dry tongue flicks out for a second of thought.

"go lay down, sugar," bradley mutters - his voice stirring from deep within his rasped throat. it managed to make a familiar warmth bubble up in your stomach. ".. 'm gonna pour myself a cup of orange juice and give you some good goddamn art on this blank canvas 'a mine."

that thought alone makes you chew the corner of your lip to suppress a stupid, cheeky smirk, and you scurry off before he gets a chance to question you and your unbridled excitement for the mere opportunity to be adorned in his artwork (he never called those methodical hickeys of his anything different).

you can't help the fuzzy sensation that begins to pour down from your heart and sift into each crevice of your innards. you can't even recall the last time the two of you started off a morning so soft and tender, and it makes you pause in the hallway to glance at bradley while he looks through the fridge. a quick double take, just to make sure.

he was here.

and oh, he was so pretty, goddamnit.

PART 2 HERE !!

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw top gun #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fluff

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