#but I hope even though this was very different people still enjoy
Note
hi !! can i have a more angsty arthur fic of the reader admiring him from afar and wanting to give him all the love he’s deserving of but feels she doesn’t have the chance to ? :)))) happy ending would be nice maybe arthur reads a note of hers !
god i love writing angst. LETS DO THISSS
hope you enjoy!! Xx @risingtripletaurus
I can let you down, I can make you Hurt.
Bitter, freezing cold. That was all you felt. Just the cold and the ache in your heart. Your whole chest ached, from the cold or from the emotions you were feeling you didn't know.
This whole Blackwater fucked up mess was just what you needed. You had already been struggling, being new to the gang and trying to help out and earn your keep. And, not only that, but Arthur Morgan hated you. You were sure of it, you had no clue what you did to offend him but just until right before this mess he started pulling away from you.
He was always friendlier with all the women of the camp, but you and him had taken a liking to each other. But one day, it just stopped. The hellos. The cups of coffee he'd bring you every morning. The shared cigarettes. The random talks, it was so nice. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't fallen for him. You though he could be falling for you too, but looks like you were wrong. You knew it was too good to be true.
"You're so down." Charles said simply. You looked up at him, not even having noticed he came into the cabin you had been sitting in.
"I can practically feel it in the air around you." He continued. Your eyes flit away from him and back to the floor. You watched a few snowflakes melt into your boots.
"Why do you care?" You asked quietly. "I'm sure you've got much better things to worry about than my problems."
Charles shrugged. "Just wanted you to know I'm here if you want to talk. I'm not doing much lately, cause of this hand. So I've noticed more."
Tears welled in your eyes. You blinked them away before you thought Charles could notice. But he still did.
"I've never seen you like this before. I'm worried about you, (Name)." Charles said. His voice more stern now. "Ask anyone, it feels like and looks like, no offense, that the life has been drained out of you."
"It's jus' the cold..." You mumbled. "I'm fine Charles.."
"You know, I was sitting in this cabin with you for hours. You didn't move once. You didn't even know I was here, did you? And Abigail came in to try and talk to you, but it was like you were in a whole different world."
Uh oh. Fuck. He's got you there. You didn't even know Charles had come in, let alone Abigail.
"Have you ever had to love someone from a distance Charles?" You asked weakly. You finally lifted your head enough to meet his eyes.
"No." Charles said with a sigh. "But I can't imagine it's a great feeling."
"It's not." You said with a sniffle. "Not at all."
"Can I ask who it is?" Charles asked you cautiously.
You let out a choked cry. You took a few deep shaky breaths, trying to keep yourself together. It was getting harder and harder by the second. God dammit Charles why do you have to care?
"Arthur." You whispered, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape your eyes. "It's Arthur."
Charles didn't say anything, he only nodded. So you kept talking.
"He was so kind to me when I first started riding with you. We got on real well too." You said, finally starting to weep. Who cares anyways? "I started falling for him. Quick and hard, and could you blame me?"
"No, I was convinced he was sweet on you." Charles admitted. Though all it did was send more tears floding out of your eyes.
"He'd bring me coffee in the mornings. We'd talk. He always said Hi to me at the very least when we crossed paths." You said softly. "And he made sure I was eatin'- I mean you know how I was when I first got here."
"Always sick and thin as paper." Charles said grimly, having been on of the few people that helped take care of you during that hard time.
"Neither of us sleep very well, he'd come find me or I'd go find him. We had such nice talks on those nights, he opened up to me. Like really, really opened up to me. And I opened up to him too." You continued, your cries becoming harder and your voice rising.
"I don't know what I did!" You cried. "But one day it all just stopped! He wouldn't talk to me, he hasn't even looked me in the eyes Charles! I don't know what's wrong with me! I just want to love him!"
"Oh (Name)..." Charles started, but you cut him off.
"He deserves so much Charles!" You sobbed. "He is such a good man, no matter what he says when he looks in the mirror! I just want to love him, he doesn't even need to love me back! Do you know how pathetic that is? How disgustingly pathetic I am to love him like this!?"
You inhaled and exhaled at a frantic pace, running your hands over your tear soaked face. It was too much. You couldn't breathe. You wrapped your arms around yout face and buried yourself in your knees. Charles rushed to your side, kneeling down next to you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and just stayed there, giving you something to hang onto. Keeping you grounded.
You finally lifted your head and met Charles's eyes, only to find them already locked on you.
"I just want to love him. T-that is all I w-want." You managed to get out between sobs. "And now I've lost m-my chance! I can't keep going like this Charles! He's- he's been through so much. That poor man has suffered and s-suffered and I just want t-to make him feel like he deserves something!"
"Arthur-"
"Needs me! And I need him to need me because look how badly I need him! If he doesn't love me the-then what am I supposed to do?!"
You broke apart, sobbing harder than you were before. Probably harder than you have ever cried in your life. Charles caught you, and he wrapped his arms around you. He let you sob and scream into his chest until you couldn't breathe.
"I just want a chance I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!" Was all you could say, over and over again. Charles rocked you back and fourth, letting you cry yourself out. It took at least an hour, but eventually your cries had lulled to a stop.
Once your breath had returned to normal, Charles spoke.
"I'm going to go get Miss Roberts and Miss Gaskill. They'll take care of you. I'm going to talk to Arthur, don't you worry about this for another second." Charles said soothingly. It was all you could do to nod a yes at him. He pulled away from you, but right as he was about to reach the door you called out for him.
"Why are you being so kind to me?" You asked horsely. Charles looked back at you and gave you a small smile.
"First of all, I like you. Quite a bit, your a good person (Name)." He said simply. "And secondly, you haven't moved from that spot for over a day and you haven't even noticed. Someone needed to do something."
And with that, he left. You sat in silence until Abigail and Mary-Beth showed up. They tried to talk with you but you didn't have the strength to even reply to them. They accepted this, and helped you to your room and laid you down in your cot.
You laid there for what felt like hours, completely lost in thought.
"Glad to see your feelin' better, Miss." Arthur said, handing you a tin cup filled with scalding hot coffee. You took it gratefully.
"Thank you, Mr. Morgan." You said with a smile. "I've got to say I'm liking your company more and more each morning you visit me."
"Oh don't be too flattered, your jus' the only one up as early as me." Arthur said with a smirk, playfully elbowing you in the side. You chucked and hoped Arthur didn't see the blush spreading across your face.
"Well a girl can dream!" You said, that same flirty smirk crossing your face.
"Arthur! I need to talk to you!" Dutch called.
Arthur groaned in annoyance. He turned to leave, but at the last moment he turned back. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it.
"Meet me at the campfire tonight. We never get t' talk without gettin' bothered." Arthur said. You nodded your head happily as he turned to leave, running of to do whatever the hell Dutch wanted him for.
You felt yourself smiling at the memory, even if it was just a weak one.
That night at the campfire was the first of many, you two met every night you could. And that was when you truly began to fall for Arthur, those nights by the burnt out campfire. The last night it happened, you told him about your life before joining the gang, and why you were so sick when you first arrived.
"No one in my family was right." You said with a deep sigh. "My daddy hung himself in our living room right before my mama had me. And since then she just never had any happy in her head."
"Jesus.." Arthur mumbled. "Was your Mama good t'you, at least?"
"Pfft, no!" You said with a laugh. You took another swig of whiskey from the bottle Arthur stole from Pearson for you. "Beat me halfway to hell every other day. I think she had some disease. Think I might have it too, honest to god."
"D'ya really think that?" Arthur asked, taking a swig of his own whiskey bottle.
"I jus' get so low sometimes.. Not enough happy in my own head." You said sadly. "Not something I can really help, but it happens. Part of the reason I was so sick when I first got here, that and being out in the elements."
"What a woman you are, Miss. (Name)!" Arthur said with a laugh. "Survivin' yer' Mama, survivin' runnin' away into the wild, and survivn' yourself!"
Arthur and you spent a lot of time talking about your past life that night, so much time you had finished that whole bottle of whiskey. Bittersweet tears filled your eyes as you remembered what happened next.
You stood up from the ground, and wobbled your way over Arthur and poked him in the chest.
"Tell me, Mr. Morgan!" You slurred. "What have you survivedddd?"
"Oh sweetheart, we ain't got time for that tonight." He said, shaking his head at your drunken boldness.
"Pleaseeee Arthurr??" You whined, a wrong step sending you tumbling down into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, and you smiled happily. It was a giddy childlike smile that Arthur would never forget.
Arthur had no idea what possessed him to do so, but he gulped down the last of his whiskey and started talking.
"My mama died when I was real young..." Arthur said, his voice going quiet. "My daddy was a thief, a petty one at that.. Wasn't even a real father. He wasn't good t'me at all. The lawmen got him when I was jus' eleven."
" 'M so sorry Arthur..." You said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tight. He rested his chin on your head and returned the hug, god it was so nice to be held like this. To be able to feel freely.
Arthur had no clue why he was so drawn to you from the very start, but ever since he first laid his eyes on you he couldn't get enough. He knew he was a goner, but he'd be lying if he said the thought didn't terrify him. Hell, sitting here like this with you terrified him! But even with the fear in the back of his mind, he could feel the whiskey clouding his thoughts and what little remained of the walls he so constantly put up crumbling.
Arthur went on about his family for a bit, and then told you all about getting taken on by Dutch and Hosea. He told you about what a deliquent he was, told you about when they brought John in. And Miss. Tilly. Then he told you all about a girl named Mary Linton, and about the love they used to share. You listened intently to every word, even in your drunken state. You prayed to whatever god above that you remembered this all tomorrow.
"I had a boy once." Arthur said, after a long stretch of silence. "His name was Issac. He passed on, though."
"Oh Arthur." You whispered, finding his hand and holding it tight. "I'm so sorry!"
"Some bastards killed him 'nd his Mama. Eliza." Arthur said, his voice breaking. "Shot 'em. All for a measly ten dollars."
"What is wrong with this world.." You murmred. Arthur just shook his head.
"I wasn't there f'him much. I shoulda been a better father to my little boy..." Arthur mumbled, his words starting to slur. "I was good to them when I was 'round, but that doesn't make up for nothin'. I'm a horrible person, (Name)."
You sat up, moving your legs around Arthur so you were straddling him. You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eyes.
"Did you love his Mama? Did you treat her well?" You asked fiercely.
Arthur nodded his head frantically. The change in you startled him.
"Did you play with your boy? Did you hold him? Did you tell him stories, or sing him to sleep?" You pressed on, even with the tears forming in Arthur's eyes.
"Y-Yes!" Arthur said, stumbling over his words. "He was small, but he still liked to run. He liked being held-"
Arthur stopped, a strangled cry escaping his throat. You took your hands off of Arthur's face and wrapped both of your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms back around you, burying his face in your hair and neck. Arthur thought that he should want to leave, but he realized he'd rather be buried alive then leave your arms right now.
"His favorite was 'Hush Little Baby'" Arthur said softly, you could feel the tears falling from his eyes now. "I was so happy to sing it to him the last time I...."
You sat up- which scared the wits out of Abigail and Mary-Beth-and covered your eyes. Trying to block out the image of what came soon after that.
The comfort you brought Arthur. The way he held your face in his hands. The kiss, so passionate. You both tasted of lust, whiskey, and pain. It was a fiery mix of emotions that sent you both stumbling into his cot and ripping off each other's clothes.
And then he wanted nothing to do with you.
"Honey? What's wrong?!" Abigail said, she wrapped her arm around you and Mary-Beth took your hands off of your face and held them.
Charles had given them a brief explanation of what had happened, but they were anxious for him to get back. They wanted to know what Arthur had to do with you being in an absolute state. They sent each other worried glances.
"When will Charles be back?" You asked with a sniffle. You leaned into Abigail and held Mary-Beth's hands tighter.
"Shouldn't be much longer, I promise honey." Abigail said.
"Want to tell us what's wrong?" Mary-Beth asked softly, she was testing the waters.
You looked between your two friends, and smiled weakly. God, you loved them so much.
"Okay."
»»———- ———-««
"Arthur? Are you here?" Charles called out before going right into Arthur's room.
Charles found Arthur sitting on the edge of his cot. He was reading a letter.
"What is it, Charles?" Arthur said, still not looking up from the paper in his hands. Arthur didn't even seem like he was listening to Charles.
"Put that down. I need to talk to you." Charles said, his voice becoming more serious.
Arthur re-read the words written on the paper one last time before looking up at Charles.
'Arthur, please tell me whatever I did. I just want to talk to you again. Please, just talk to me whenever you read this. Your true friend, (Name)'
"You know, (Name) isn't doing good. She's been sitting in the corner of her room, curled up. Not moving, not talking. Nothing." Charles said simply.
Arthur's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Charles continued.
"I sat there with her for hours, and she didn't move a muscle. I watched Abigail come in and try and talk to her, but it was like she was talking to a wall." Charles said. "And that was after Molly had tried to talk to her for hours the night before. She's the one who came and got me."
"Is..is she alright?" Arthur asked, his nerves evident in his voice. He knew this was his fault. He could feel it in his bones. Oh god, he was a fucking idiot,
"No! She's not alright!" Charles snapped. "She barely even looks human! When I finally got through to her all she could do was cry! And she was crying about you!"
"No.." Arthur said softly. "Where is she now? I need to go see her-"
"You can go see her when we're done here." Charles said sternly. "Arthur, did you know she was in love with you?"
Arthur ran a hand over his face. Oh great, now he'd really done it.
'I'm such a piece of shit..' Arthur thought to himself. 'God.. Oh my god..'
"No." Arthur said. "I jus' thought... I don't know what I thought! I jus' didn't think she loved me."
"I just want to love him. He doesn't even need to love me back." Charles said with a sigh. "That's what she said to me, while she was sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. And then 'I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!'"
"I get yer' point!" Arthur shouted. "Jesus christ..."
"She's broken. Between having to be here, the whole mess in Blackwater and you completely disregarding her, she is broken." Charles said.
"I KNOW GOD DAMMIT I GET IT!" Arthur shouted, standing up from his cot. Charles stood firm, crossing his arms over his chest. He had said his part, now it was Arthur's turn to speak.
"Does.. Does she really love me?" Arthur asked weakly, taking off his hat and running his hands through his hair. Charles nodded. " I thought she was just' sweet on me a little bit, I thought I was jus' sweet on her.."
"Do you feel different now?" Charles asked. When he joined this gang, he never expected this would be the role he took on. Oh well.
Arthur stilled for a moment. He knew how he felt about you. But how could he even say it out loud, knowing how love had turned out for him in the past?
Mary had to leave him. Her father hated him because of his life as an outlaw.
His love for Eliza and his child only got them shot.
How could he condemn you, someone who has suffered and suffered, to a life with him? He wanted nothing more than to make you feel loved, protected, and cared for. He wanted to hold you like he did that night, to keep you close. To kiss away all your pain and never let you feel like you don't deserve it. Because you deserved the world, Arthur just didn't think he could give it to you.
And he was scared. He was so scared, so instead of being a decent fucking human he ran. And now look at what he did to you. Sent you right back to that dark part of your mind where you never wanted to be stuck in again.
"Yes." Arthur said finally. "But, how could I even try anythin' with her? I don't want nothin' happening to her cause of me! She deserves so much more than I can give her!"
"Arthur, I don't think you understand." Charles said with a deep sigh. "She doesn't want more! She isn't expecting anything of you! All she wants is. you."
"Why does this matter to you anyways! Who are you, t'come in here and talk t'me about this!" Arthur spat. "You have no right-"
"Yes I do!" Charles said, his voice rising. "I took care of (Name) when she first joined us, so I'll continue to take care of her now! She can't function! She needs you, Arthur! And I have a feeling you need her too."
Arthur stood there, glaring at Charles. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to scream foul things at him, for getting into his head like that. But he also wanted to thank him. For being there for you while he failed miserably.
"Figure it out. And then you go see her." Charles said coolly. "Don't go see her like this, she's not strong enough."
Charles left, Arthur's cold stare practically ushering them out the door. Arthur stood there for a few more moments, not really knowing what to do with himself. Charles had sent his mind reeling.
He knows what he wants to do. He wants to go to you, hold you, kiss you, tell you how sorry he is. Tell you that he loved you so much but he got scared, and instead of facing it like a man he ran like a boy. He never wanted to hurt you, but look how bad you were hurting now!
You loved him. And he loved you, but Arthur ran away and now would you ever be able to forgive him? He hadn't even told you he loved you! Arthur was sure he had already ruined everything. Not to mention the two of you slept together, which Arthur didn't even know if you knew it happned or not you were both so god damn drunk!
Arthur sat down and sighed. He took out the letter you left for him to find. He read it again, only this time he stopped over a certain line.
"Just talk to me."
It echoed in his mind. Arthur could practically hear your voice, begging him to talk to you. And he knew what he had to do. Arthur folded the letter up and placed it neatly in his pocket, before placing his hat back on his head. He made a beeline for the hut you were staying in with Molly.
»»———- ———-««
You had just finished telling your sob story to Abigail and Mary-Beth when Charles returned, not even giving them a moment to react.
You didn't even look up at him when he came back, feeling so weak having to relive what happened with Arthur yet again.
"He's coming. I don't know when, he needed to collect himself. But he'll be here to see you, (Name)." Charles said softly. You nodded, reminding yourself to go and thank him properly when you were better.
"Miss Roberts, Miss Gaskill, please stay with her until Arthur gets here." Charles asked them. Of course they agreed. And then Charles left, god he needed a drink.
Abigail and Mary-Beth stay there with you, wrapped up in blankets in your cot. It was a comforting couple of minutes of silence before Arthur practically broke the door down and rushed into your room. Abigial and Mary-Beth said some hurried goodbyes to you before rushing out of the room.
You knew Arthur was there, but you couldn't look at him. You continued to lay down on your cot, wrapped up in blankets and facing the wall.
Arthur looked at you for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and starting to speak.
"(Name)" Arthur said softly. "Can I uh.. May I sit with you?"
You rolled over slowly, and forced yourself to meet Arthur's eyes. They looked just as broken as yours did when you looked in the mirror. You nodded yes weakly, and Arthur sat down on your cot next to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you closed your eyes. Arthur saw the tears flowing from them.
"I'm so sorry honey." Arthur said with a shaky sigh. "I should never have pushed you away like that."
"You fucked me." You spat, opening your eyes to look at him. "You fucked me! And then you wouldn't even look me in the eyes!"
"You know!?" Arthur gasped, completely shocked. He didn't think you were sober enough to remember what happened that night.
"I OPENED UP TO YOU ARTHUR!" You yelled, finding the strength in your anger to sit up in your bed. "I GOT CLOSE TO YOU- I LET YOU IN! YOU KNOW THINGS ABOUT ME KNOW ONE ELSE DOES!"
Before you even knew what you were doing, you got up and started pounding your fists against Arthur's back. He was caught off guard, so you got a couple solid punches in before he turned around and grabbed you by the wrists.
"You FUCKED ME! AND THEN YOU THREW ME TO THE SIDE LIKE SOME WHORE! YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU! AND ALL FOR WHAT!? ALL FOR WHAT ARTHUR MORGAN!? IS THAT ALL YOU WANTED FROM ME FROM THE START!?" You cried, not knowing when the shouting stopped and your tears began.
You fought to get your wrists out of Arthur's grasp. But he wouldn't let you go. In fact he held on to you tighter, pulling you firm against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tight and without even knowing what he was doing started peppering your head with kisses.
You punched, you sobbed, you screamed, you fought like a bat outta hell trying to get out of his grasp. But Arthur wouldn't let you go. He took every hit, every foul name and every insult.
Eventually, your thrashing stopped. Your sobs turned into small shaky breathes, and instead of punching him your arms were wrapped around his neck and you crawled into his lap. Arthur started rocking you back and fourth, and was whispering comforting things in your ear.
"I didn't know you remembered.." Arthur said softly. "Honey.. I thought I took advantage of you. I didn't think you'd wanna sleep with me if you were sober."
Arthur felt you softly shaking your head, but you didn't speak. So Arthur kept talking.
"I never woulda' acted how I did if I had known you remembered that night." Arthur whispered. "And, I can't lie to ya' honey. I was afraid. I didn't feel worthy of somthin' like what we had going on. I wasn't thinkin' right- actually I don't think I was thinkin' at all."
"Do you love me?" You asked, your voice a broken whisper. "Arthur I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. You know just as well as I do that there is some type of connection between us that we didn't even spark ourselves. Everyone saw it happen before their very eyes."
Arthur looked down at you, and you were looking up at him already. You looked like a scared little girl, and it broke Arthur's heart. How could he have done this to you?
Arthur swallowed thickly. It was now or never. He was afraid, but his fear meant nothing. Nothing mattered when it came to you. Arthur couldn't bare to lose you, especially not like this.
"Yes." Arthur breathed out, a small chuckle leaving him. "God, I love you so much. Please forgive me f'being such a goddamn moron-"
Before Arthur could continue, you grabbed Arthur by his coat collar and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. Arthur moved his hands to cup your face, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that fell from your closed eyes.
You kissed until the both of you needed to pull away for air, and then Arthur kissed you again. He never thought he'd be able to feel your soft and loving lips against his own ever again, so he made sure to savor every moment.
Once you had both caught your breath, Arthur sat there. He held your face in his hands. The love in his eyes sent a blush to your cold and tear stained face.
"I love you (Name) (Last-name)." Arthur said, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "S'much. More than you'll ever know. More than I'll ever be able to show ya' sweetheart."
You let out an airy laugh, and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breathe. Your chest wasn't heavy anymore and it felt like your heart was actually beating.
"But I sure as hell will try. Like you said, there is somethin' between us that's not even we could control." Arthur said softly. The smile on his face sent butterflies to your stomach. " 'M so sorry I made you feel so horrible. I'll do everythin' I can to make this right. To make us right, honey."
"It's okay.." You whispered. "It's not entirely your fault, y'know I'm sick anyway-"
"Which is another reason why I shoulda' been smarter!" Arthur said, his voice soft still but also firm. He pulled you into another hug. "I need to keep the happy inside your head."
"You remember that?" You gasped. You were deeply touched that he had remembered something so small.
"I'd have to be dead to forget any of the talks I've had with you sweetheart." Arthur said, his tone nothing but truthful. You smiled into his chest, his words made you feel like you were floating on a cloud.
You both sat there in a comfortable silence, Arthur gently rubbing your back and rocking you back and fourth. You had your eyes closed, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Arthur noticed a shift in your breathing, and he knew you had fallen asleep.
As quietly and comfortably as he could, Arthur shifted so that you were both laying down again. Arthur wrapped you up in a blanket and let out a content sigh. This felt so right. So perfect. He was still scared, but he couldn't let it keep him from you. It was better to be afraid with you, so you could learn and grow together, instead of pushing himself away and hurting the both of you.
"I'm gonna give you the world, my sweet girl. Jus' you wait and see.." Arthur whispered. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, before drifting off himself.
»»———- ———-««
a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! ive literally spent all my free time on it the past few days lol i got wayyy to invested into this, but are we suprised at this point??? Xx
#arthur morgan#rdr2#rdr2 arthur#x reader#arthur morgan x reader#red dead fanfiction#red dead redemption 2#angst with a happy ending#angst#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan rdr2#lots of angst#but also lots of love#arthur morgan angst#fic request#sad with a happy ending#sadnees#arthur morgan fanfiction
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ blog update ! ] ࿐ྂ
+ some housekeeping and info on new writing
hello my loves !! i wanted to give y'all some insight on what's been going on in my mind palace lately. there's a lot...so...cmon, take a walk w me...and maybe bring some snacks.
ੈ♡˳ first and foremost ! my work has received a lot more attention recently and i am so excited. with actual tears in my eyes, im happy to report that i surpassed 1,000 followers the other day. i am at a loss for words...just...stuck in a perma-state of disbelief.
im sending out the biggest thank you to everyone who has supported me, who's interacted with my work, to the lovely friends ive made though this account and to the heartbreakingly beautiful anime that brought me here in the first place. i am genuinely in awe...overwhelmed, even...i didn't expect any of this to happen when i started this blog and i am forever indebted to all of you for getting me here. im actively fighting off the inevitable surge of imposter syndrome as i type this out...i just love y'all so fucking much. this community means the world to me and i wanna scream at the top of my lungs in order to demonstrate my deepest appreciation for each and every one of y'all.
ੈ♡˳ secondly ! a message for my little angel babies, my day one followers; thank you for taking a chance on me. for watching me grow. for sticking around as i worked to get better at writing. im sure a lot of you started following me for my gamer!bf sukuna series...trust me, i love him and i know y'all do too. but i feel like my writing is heading in a different direction...and with a heavy heart, i'm absolutely gutted when i say that i am taking a pause on that series. i am forever grateful for the support and may return to him soon, though i cannot promise that. i owe so much of what my account is now to that series and i will never forget that.
for everyone who joined me as i delved into dark/dead dove content, thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me a safe space to explore different forms of story-telling. my choso fic was the first stepping stone and then i skipped every other stone on the path and jumped head first into the deep end with my dead dove gojo fic...i deeply appreciate all the positive feedback i received on both of those. after posting them, i realized that i am very into writing dark content. i know that taboo themes/dark content/dead dove subject matter isn't for everyone and i understand people's apprehension in regards to it. but with that being said, i will be moving forward with publishing darker content.
ੈ♡˳ so here's the writing update !
i did a poll asking y'all what kind of content you enjoy. a good chunk of people said long form fics (which is great, cause i do too !! mommy needs plot). so, i am migrating away from one shot writing. both because i've been thinking about it for awhile and because y'all are into longer stories, as well. but fear not, i will still write shorter stuff along with headcannons, drabbles, etc...it just won't be the main focus of my blog anymore.
ੈ♡˳ now, time for the big reveal ! perhaps it's a bit anticlimactic, but bear with me...
im so excited to announce that i have two new series coming ! it will be a dark, modern!au featuring choso (with a few other special guests) and a dead dove sukuna series.
i'm almost finished with the outlines, and have fully completed the theme layout + mood boards for both works. i hope to get the first few chapters wrapped up in the next couple weeks. if you want to be tagged in either of these (or both), just leave a comment or send me a message !
(also !! i may or may not be cooking up a dark medieval au series in collaboration with another writer on here...so be on the lookout for that hehe)
while i take breaks from writing my two series, i'll be working through my requests ! so if you've sent one in, i promise i will get to it, unless i literally cannot think of a good way to write it (im only human, im so sorry). also, im sure we already knew this, but im a slowww writer. i wish i could churn content out quick as fuck but i am too hypercritical of myself…it's both a blessing and a curse, honestly.
if you made it all the way to the end of this nightmare of a brain dump, i love you. if you've been with me for a while, i love you. if you're just now joining me, i love you. everyone who’s supported me in any way, shape, or form, i love you.
i present you with the sloppiest kiss with tongue (only if you want it, of course. i can also give you the tightest hug, the gentlest head pat, or my social security number...access to all my bank accounts? a mansion in the hills? my passport? hand in marriage? my first born child? literally whatever you want, babe).
okay !! i think that's all for the updates. feeling: very ambitious and motivated but also overwhelmed and mildly stressed but overall super excited for what's to come. im looking forward to this new adventure and i hope y'all come along with me ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
thank you again…for literally everything. yall hold a special place in my heart and always will. so, here we go !
see you on the other side, my loves.
— jade 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪
#—bby’s babbles🪴#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen writing#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#bratbby333
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
First batch of @bug-oc bugs. This would've gotten finished sooner, but we've been sick as a dog for most of the tournament's runtime, so we're calling it a victory that we managed to get anything done - there are a lot fewer contestants this year, which means both less art to do and more ability to commit to trying to make some particularly unique creature designs - there are some in this batch that we REALLY want to do justice, and that is... unfortunately hard to do when we're barely functioning for two hours a day. This is our unofficial call to STAY HOME when you're sick! Even if you're feeling sturdy enough to go out and about, your actions can impact those around you very easily.
Design notes and owners below the cut with individual pictures - the middle one here is a beta design that we're still in the process of ironing out, so that one just has
[This is the first time I've met someone who "worked in Snakemouth" since that one... weird encounter, with those roaches giving me a job offer. I didn't know that they had a security guard position. I... didn't know that they knew what a security guard even is, honestly. To have two bugs involved with the lab turn up is an incredible coincidence. I wonder if the time portal is actually open again, or if different universes just work on different timeframes?
Regardless, it's a good opportunity to advance my knowledge of partial transmutation and multi-organism transmutation. Whatever happened to that moth in the last tournament... my understanding of how to handle both symbiotes and parasitism is clearly incomplete, if running into multiple organisms can cause problems like that. I'll have to put some extra work into monitoring...]
Omelette from @tangleslime2 was one that felt... obvious, we suppose?Your work will one day consume you, and such - one way or another! More literal in this case. A lot of the work here, honestly, is toying with shapes and body language. Omelette has a LOVELY sillhouette with some extremely identifiable clothes, and translating it to a zombee design was Very fun. Maybe a bit plain on the design side, but the linework was incredibly fun to do - we got to do a whole lot of fur, which is always a fun time. This design was very quick and easy, as designs go, and we had a lot of fun doing the hat. Wildly askew, and held on by but a single antennae!
Sundew and Nerine from @mizzle-moths are untransmuted, as requested - Sundew's pose was very fun to do - nice and fluid, though the wing markings were admittedly a bit funky to parse. We hope we got all the details correct here! Both of your bugs have gorgeous color palettes. Our usual marker set's dark gray marker's dried out by now, so we had to use an alternative, which... unfortunately bled clean through our sketchbook page. Lesson learned, we suppose. The scribble over the eyes used the same pen that we did our linework with - the "scribbling over the eyes of a dead character" trope is very well-worn, but cliche only becomes cliche because it inspires enough people to follow in the footsteps of a story, and we're very fond of the way it adds to the... hmm, visual language? We just think it's neat. Hope you enjoy!
[...working with spirits and more immaterial forms isn't my area of expertise, but it's something i dearly need experience in. My hope is that by advancing my knowledge in this field, I might be able to apply the knowledge to other fields that evade me - anything inanimate has proven to be my bane, and I'm fairly certain that a few of my attempts into this area have produced "hauntings", when they're not producing incredibly specialized organisms. Maybe if I know how to cause a haunting, I can figure out how to not cause one...?]
Moving on to our beta design - that is a VERY rough draft of Beera from @longeth-dayv. Given by the obvious Luigi's Mansion inspiration, we wanted to run with it by pulling our inspiration more directly from a Luigi's Mansion enemy - mostly, this meant tinkering with sillhouettes while trying to figure out what sort of design would match best to the character, and how to translate a design to something recognizable.
The pack, despite its significance character-wise, doesn't have quite as much weight in the balance of the design, which meant more tweaking for the transformation - though we briefly tried toying with the pack itself for this design, that particular page we felt would skew a bit too close to body horror for your personal comfort, so we scrapped the idea. Better safe than sorry, as they say. As such, we're aiming more towards using wire and body language to drive recognition.
The image here is a loose draft based on the bats enemy, used to test the fade and layering of the highlighter we were using - as it turns out, it doesn't layer very well! We started out looking for electric enemies, but we only really turned up the Electric Oozer, and that... was a bit too close to "normal boo" for our personal tastes, so we swapped to just primarily yellow enemies. Though we were previously considering taking the bat design to final draft, actually putting it out on paper convinced us to the contrary, so we went back to the... sketchboard. We'd bet there's a good chance you can already figure out where we're going with this one. A fun design challenge, for sure!
Finally (at least for this particular evening), we offer you this: a look behind the scenes, (or at least, the scenes that don't involve "us being sick and struggling to communicate whether or not something is sorted with the other mod"). What we've been using to keep track of matches, as well as to draw lots. Not precisely a high-tech solution, but damn if it doesn't work - the ends here are split into two for the sake of a loser's bracket, which we... thought we had figured out, but then it turned out we've been having miscommunications on what the bracket setups even are, and, well...
...we're working on it, we'll say. It might still be integrated, but that'll have to wait 'til trying to do things doesn't require fighting for our life. We will probably rerandomize the brackets for it, we might use it for illustration practice if the contestants are cool with it, so on and so forth. As always, thank you for your patience - we hope that Round 2 encounters slightly less hitchups compared to Round 1.
29 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! This might be long, so feel free to ignore ig
I've almost always been very neutral in the proship argument, I think people should be allowed to ship stuff, but obviously, I don't really ship incest, ya know?
Well, now I'm questioning my stance because I've been shipping "pro-ship" ships recently, so... yeah, crisis time
I dint really know what to do, I don't feel welcome in proship spaces (not cuz I think you're bad people) but because I'm friends with SO many antis, and because I don't ship incest (I'm in fact very uncomfortable with it due to trauma) and I have my limits with other problematic stuff, but I'm not an anti cuz I think people should be allowed to engage in media and characters however they want, but I don't want to stay neutral cuz I ship pro ships! (Only minor stuff, like toxic pairings and some age gap stuff, but I've delved into underage, and I think I like it? Idk)
I also don't know the difference between proship, comship, and darkship, idk if there's anything else I should know, idk if I count as proship because there's stuff I'm not comfortable with, IDK
I'd rather get advice from accepting proshippers than judgmental antis cuz they'll just tell me not to engage
Okay, so, to break it down:
Proship- Don't nessecarily ship it. This is not a type of ship, it's an adjective, and it simply means that the person who is proship believes other people should be allowed to ship whatever they want as long as they don't bring it IRL. You can be uncomfortable, but you still think other people can enjoy it.
Comship- Complex Ships, aka taboo ships. Incest, pedophilia, etc.
Darkship- Abusive ships, dark romance, mafia romance, stalker romance, etc. (The definition of this might change, depending on who you're talking to)
So, you are proship. 100%. If you dislike the title though, you can say you're neutral.
You don't have to like all, or even any, comships to be a proshipper.
Hope this helps!
#proshippers please interact#antis dni#anti anti#proshipper#proship#pro ship#profiction#proshipping#ask#asks
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Countdown to Coven of Chaos: Day 365
So, to celebrate a year of Countdown to Coven of Chaos, I want to take the opportunity to branch out from the usual silly incorrect quotes. As someone who has both studied art history and art, I thought something longer form might be of interest:
A lot of my artwork uses references and inspiration from media I love, ie to help draw curtains angles, shapes and perspectives, or has a theme I root ideas in but quickly branch off into something entirely new. Most of the time unless you know what franchises and media I’m currently hyperfixating on - you won’t recognize those things in my art. Often times I have library of ideas and stills from movies, songs, books, comics, etc. that I catalog for later inspiration (distinction: NOT to copy). It’s a process I’m pretty familiar with, but not used to being questioned on. However I recently got that rare question when I was receiving critiques:
“Where are these images from?”
I sat there in horror, how much do I divulge? Do I just play it safe with the safe option of my imagination? That drawing in particular was something I had directly mashed together from scenes of MoM and Wandavision with a fair bit of personal liberty so it was transformed into something new. I decided to simply go with:
“Comics!”
And I got the response that, though that was okay, it was something I should keep to myself. Other more esteemed artists would look down at my work if they knew that I took inspiration from comic books. And honestly, that’s really stuck with me. I may be biased since one day I would love to illustrate comics and think the early drawing of Stan Lee are timeless and beautiful, but that comment felt like a sting. Comic books in general have always been regarded as low brow art, but after the work of the 70s Pop Art movement, you would think that these styles would have a more positive reputation after widespread popularity.
I still have a lot to learn about art still, but as an active consumer of comic books and art history…I have to ask: how different are comic books than religious paintings? Though the subject matter is extremely different, paintings during the Renaissance (and before) were used as methods of storytelling in religious institutions for the masses. Hundreds of years later, the stories are different, but the sentiment is the same. Combining art with narrative to convey a story. And though comics now can sometimes cost an arm and a leg, they were once forms of inexpensive entertainment for the average or lower class. Similar to the religious paintings of Renaissance Europe, it was a method of consuming narratives through art regardless of status. It feels a bit strange, and rude, to regard one form of art as lesser than another simply because it didn’t gain popularity with high paying patrons of museums and institutions.
So, I’ll keep reading comics and I'll keep eagerly awaiting the release of Coven of Chaos to see how the set, costumes, and editing comes together to form some beautiful scenes that may inspire some art…and I’ll keep believing that storytelling, in any form, deserves recognition.
Happy 1st birthday to the Countdown for House of Harkness, now known as Coven of Chaos. Thanks to everyone who enjoys each day, cheers
#did this turn into a small essay?#yes#but I hope even though this was very different people still enjoy#agatha harkness#wandavision#agatha all along#house of harkness counter#hahndavision#marvel#marvel comics#art history#wanda maximoff#house of harkness#coven of chaos#coven of chaos counter#multiverse of madness#dr strange mom
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹
snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)
pairing: coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: none!
summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.
a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!
word count: 2.2k
join my taglist here.
"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.
You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.
"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.
"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.
"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.
"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.
You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.
"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.
"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.
"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.
"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.
You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.
"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.
"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.
"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.
"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.
"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.
"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.
"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.
"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.
"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.
"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.
You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.
"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.
"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.
"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.
"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.
"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.
"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.
"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.
"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.
"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.
"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.
As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.
Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.
She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.
He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.
"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.
"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.
The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.
You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.
Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.
Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.
"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.
"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.
"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.
"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.
"Okay." You said.
"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.
His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.
Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.
"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.
"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.
"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.
"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.
"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.
"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.
"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.
"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.
"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.
You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.
TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#young!coriolanus snow x reader
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇!
Pairing: Firefighter!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji tries to be the best father he can to his baby boy
Warnings: Fluff
*This isn't finished and it probably won't be but do enjoy what I did end up writing🥹🫶 I'll do a different AU for firefighter Toji
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
“Toji!” You call out for your husband, wondering why he isn’t in bed. You approach the nursery, and that’s where you find your husband putting his finger under his son’s nose to check if he’s breathing. You never thought that you’d find Toji of all people doing this, but he really is doing everything he can to make sure the baby is breathing, while also making sure he doesn’t wake Megumi up.
Even after six months of having Megumi, Toji makes this part of his nightly routine. Megumi’s tiny stomach very visibly rises and falls, so there’s no need for Toji to be doing all of this. But Toji’s scared, and a new parent, so he still does.
He shushes you before you even dare speak too loud, you better not wake up the baby. You roll your eyes, a chuckle leaving your lips as you walk back to your bedroom, and your husband follows behind not too shortly after.
“I love seeing you worry about the baby, but don’t you think you’re doing too much?” You ask him as you get in bed. Toji takes off his shirt before getting into bed right next to you. He pulls you into his warm embrace and kisses the top of your head. “Please tell me you turned off the alarm.”
“I have to get up and check up on him.” He responds, and you would laugh if you weren’t affected by it. Toji’s alarm wakes you up, and it’s annoying to be constantly woken up in the middle of the night.
“Toji, you’re also really tired. If Megumi needs anything, he’ll cry.” You assure him, but Toji won’t listen to any of it. You understand him better than anybody since you’re also a new parent, but you already have to wake up to feed the hungry baby in the middle of the night, you don’t need to be woken up four other times by Toji.
“I still want to make sure he’s okay. What if he’s just sitting in his crib, waiting for daddy to come?” Toji asks, and you let out an exasperated sigh.
“You’re so right, Toji. But can you please go to the couch? I need to rest because I actually have to wake up and feed him.” You tell him, and Toji groans before letting go of you and sitting up on the bed.
“You don’t mean it.” He says as he grabs his pillows. He drags his feet as he walks to the door, waiting for you to stop him. You hate to sleep without Toji but you’re tired and you don’t want to be woken up multiple times in the night for no reason.
“Close the door on your way out!” You yell at him, getting comfortable in your space. You want to go one night without interrupted sleep, and you hope tonight is that night. As much as it sucks to sleep without Toji, you need at least one night of good sleep. You hate to hurt his feelings, but you’re also too tired to care.
“Look here, Megumi!” You put on your baby voice as you talk to your son, attempting to get him to look at your phone camera. Megumi doesn’t care though, he’s looking away, kicking his feet and yelling for the dog. He’s opening and closing his little fist in the direction of the dog, he can’t make it more clearer what he wants. “C’mon, baby, I want to send your father a cute picture.”
He keeps ignoring you, yelling to the dog. You watch the dog walk toward you and the baby, so you pick Megumi up from his play mat before the dog can lick the baby’s face. You take Megumi back to your bedroom, hoping that once you put him down on your bed, you can finally take the picture that you want to send to your husband.
You put him down on the bed, and just as you open the phone camera to take the perfect picture before he can look away, you receive a call. Toji is calling to facetime, which is perfect timing. You accept it, immediately flipping the camera to put the attention on the baby.
“Oh my god, is that my cute little urchin wearing a sailor outfit?” Toji isn’t the type to fawn over this type of stuff, or so he thought. Toji has grown soft, in his own ways at least, for his baby boy. He’s laughing, calling his coworkers over to show off his baby. Yup, Toji has become that person.
Toji just loves being a father, he was scared that he wouldn’t. He knows some parents love their kids to death but don’t like being a parent at all– Luckily for him, that isn’t the case. He loves the fact that he’s teaching this little human the basics of how to live while also filling him with love. He loves it so much that he’s almost about to ask you for a second baby.
“You look tired.” You tell him when he stops showing off Megumi to everyone, flipping the camera on you. Toji is barely getting any sleep, even though you keep pushing him to get rest.
“I’m fine.” He replies, and before you can argue with him, he changes the topic to more important manners, “Show me the baby, I miss him.”
“I was just showing you the baby.” You roll your eyes but you still turn the camera so Toji can watch his baby boy.
“Megumi! Look at the phone.” Toji says, noticing how Megumi looks away. Megumi is stretching. Your hand goes to his tummy, tickling it which causes the baby to look back at you and giggle. It fills Toji up with immense joy but also regret that he can’t always be by Megumi’s side to experience it all.
Until he hears a sound you both dread, something that makes the loudest sigh leave your lips. That part is the only thing he hates about being a father.
“Alright, I’ll see you later.” You hang up the phone before Toji can even mutter a goodbye, picking up the baby and taking him to the changing table.
You realize that in the past six months, you haven’t had any proper alone time with him. You’re both too focused on being the best parent to Megumi, that you’ve completely put your relationship on the side. He’s put everything on hold, even his own health, to be there for Megumi whenever he’s free.
You miss him, and while you knew that your life would completely change the moment Megumi came along, you didn’t expect to be so separated from him. You want to get Megumi off your hands for a couple of hours so you can spend some nice alone time with Toji, without having him worry about Megumi needing something.
It’s hard to get Megumi off your hands, especially when he’s so attached to you. He’s also a crybaby which certainly doesn’t help your case.
“Do you want to go see your daddy soon?” You ask your son, picking him up from the changing table. It’s not like he can answer, so you take his coo as a yes. You need to arrange something with the help of a couple of people, and who’s better for this than some of Toji’s coworkers?
“Fushiguro! You have some visitors here!” Toji hears from the kitchen, and he raises his brows, wondering who’s looking for him. When he walks into the kitchen, his heart skips a beat at the sight of his wife and son. Toji practically runs to your side when he sees you, pecking your lips before he takes Megumi from your arms.
“What are you two doing here?” Toji’s happiness radiates off his voice. Out of all things, he didn’t expect you and his son to come visit, but here you are. Toji kisses Megumi’s chubby cheek, while the baby’s hand grips the collar of his dad’s shirt.
“Just wanted to visit daddy for a bit since you’re always complaining about not spending enough time with Megumi.” You give him your best smile before you catch a glimpse of the woman that you came here to talk to. You squeeze Toji’s forearm before telling him, “I have to talk to Yuki, I’ll be right back.”
“Huh?” Toji furrows his brows but ultimately he doesn’t care because he has his baby boy in his arms and Megumi is trying to shove his hand into Toji’s mouth. He often wishes he could trade places with you– Toji loves his job but the moment Megumi took his first breath, he became Toji’s first priority. His favorite person; and you, of course.
“Yuki, can we talk?” Your voice comes off as a whisper, and she raises her brows. A smirk comes to her lips before she lets out,
“Are we getting another mini Toji?” She’s rather loud, and you feel your face burn. You look absolutely mortified, and she bursts into laughter. She nudges her head to the table and begins to walk to it, making you follow behind. She pulls out a chair for you, but you shake your head since you don’t really have plans of staying for long. “What’s up?”
“You’re the person here that I trust the most… And you’re great with baby Megumi.” You bring up, and you feel yourself dragging it out. She knows, but she waits for you to say it, tapping her finger on the table as she waits for you to ask the question. “Can you take care of Megumi on Friday? I want to go out with Toji.”
“Man… I don’t know, I’m not that great with kids.” She responds, and you know it’s a lie, at least from what you’ve seen she’s great with Megumi. You’re willing to argue just about anything because you want to get Megumi off your hands for a night.
“Really? Baby Megumi adores you.” You claim, which isn’t a lie, but Megumi likes just about anyone. “It’s a way for baby Megumi and his favorite auntie to get closer.”
She laughs, she knows what you’re doing, but she doesn’t mind. She has Friday off and has no important plans so she might as well try to figure out what goes on in a baby’s mind. She ends up saying, “As long as I don’t have to take him anywhere, I’m not sure how I’d work a carseat on a motorcycle.”
“Of course! If anything comes up you can call me and we’ll be at home within minutes.” You answer excitedly, and before you run in search for Toji, and even though he was just in the kitchen, he’s nowhere near the place when you look for him.
“Toji!” You call out for him, unsure of where he went with the baby. The firehouse is a big place, you sure aren’t going to look in every room.
“Check the fire truck!” You hear from Yuki, and you roll your eyes at the mere suggestion. She’s not looking at it, you’re not going to entertain it– But she also knows Toji and that sounds like something he’d do. You stop in your tracks and let out a sigh before going to the firetruck.
You walk over to the driver’s side, opening the door to find Toji putting Megumi’s hands on the wheel– A sight you find the most hilarious since Toji made it his mission to put a firefighter hat on the baby’s head; but you notice it’s smaller, leading you to assume that Toji bought this just for him and kept it hidden until now.
“Look, honey, Megumi told me he wanted to be just like his daddy when he grew up.” Toji chuckles, moving Megumi’s hands on the wheel which Toji finds hilarious. Megumi doesn’t find it as funny though.
“Baby, he can barely sit up. Try it again in a few more months.” You say as you take the baby from his arms, and Toji clicks his tongue. He follows behind you as you walk back to the kitchen to take the diaper bag and go back to your car.
“Why are you leaving so soon?” He asks, annoyed that you’ve given him his baby and taken him away just as quickly.
“We just came to say hi and talk to Yuki, and since we’ve done that, we can go home now.” You respond. The man is pouting, something that you never thought you’d see from a man as big as Toji. When you have the diaper bag in your possession, you peck his lips, “Go save lives, baby.”
“What did you need to talk to Yuki about?” Toji questions, wondering what was so important that you decided to come all the way here.
“Babysitting, we’re going out on Friday.” You tell him, and his brows perk up. He’d think that would be more of a question instead of a statement, but it’s the latter. “You can’t say no, we haven’t had some proper alone time in months.”
“I wasn’t going to say no.” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking at the ground like a child. He was going to say no, and you can’t help but chuckle. Your hand goes under his chin and you begin to inspect his face.
“You’re also turning off those alarms to get proper rest. I think you’re annoying Megumi too by constantly coming into his room to invade his space.” And before he can argue with you, you leave him alone to share his thoughts with himself.
He guesses you're right.
#toji x y/n#toji zenin#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro#daddy toji#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji x you#dilf toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji fluff#toji imagine#toji fushiguro fluff#fushiguro toji x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere Alastor with daughter reader
A Stag and his Fawn
‐-----‐----‐-----------------------------------
(Not proof read cause I'm tired but I need to post)
Masterlist
---------
Alastor was your adoptive father. He adopted you when you were both still alive. You were only a baby at the time, being left in a dumpster.
When Alastor was dumping bodys in the dumpster he found you, he was originally going to put you in a foster home, but when he saw you open your eyes and look at him seeming at peice, he knew it was a bad idea to put you in any foster home.
Of course, he could not just take you in. He had to get you some medical treatment. So he took you to the nearest hospital to get a check-up and other things. Then he had to do even more other things like birth certificate and adoption stuff. (You know, the essentials)
Anyways, once you were old enough, he taught you his ways of voodoo and murder. (You were already learning from about 4, lmao), and you became a perfect daughter to him (even though you were already perfect to him).
If you were to get bullied in school, those kids would regret it. He would also teach those kids' parents a lesson as well.
If you end up dying before him from it being someone's fault, he would torture that person/persons and eat that person's corpse.
Once he enters hell, he would search for you while aswell becoming a terrifying overlord. And once he finds you, he would pretend you are not his daughter in public so you would not get targeted. He knows you can look after yourself so he would let you in public by yourself, but a shadow will follow you.
But if you are an overlord, he wouldn't admit being your father, but he will treat you like his daughter in public, and he will let others' theories flow. (Overlord or not, a shadow will follow you, btw)
Now, if he dies first, he will patiently wait for you. You, of course, kill the one who mistakes your father for a deer. You then live life how he wanted you to, until you finally arrive in hell.
Once you arrive in hell, he ether will take a while to find you or find you quickly. If you quickly become an overlord just like him, he would be proud, like you have no idea.
(The ways he is with you in hell is the same as I explained in the first death choice.)
Of course, introducing you to people as Alastors' daughter, you will get interesting reactions.
The overlords would be shocked, to say the least, Carmila might like Alastor slightly more cause she has her own daughters.
Now the hotel's reactions ig
Of course, the entire hotel is shocked except for niffty and husk cause yall already probably met (I would tell you that, but that's a different kind of worm)
Anyway, sir pentious would be most likely terrified of you or just won't admit it.
Angel- well, Angel-... he's probably going to start off with sex jokes, and how unfair it is that some random bitch got to fuck Alastor. Your father was not happy.
Vaggie is very suspicious of you once you met. She knew how your father was, so you were not trustworthy. (Which was fair, you showed that same creepy smile your father did)
Charlie loved meeting you. She was and is so happy that Alastor has a daughter and she is and was happy to meet you. She was hoping to help you get redeemed, but you just told her you would rather be in hell with your father.
--------_______--------
I was going to make Alastor more yandere but because of 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠, he's like that, ok? OK
I did get lazy at the end, so... Yyyeeeaaaa
Hope you enjoyed it
- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#sir pentious#carmilla carmine#angel dust#vaggie#husk#niffty#fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#x child reader#x reader#alastor x daughter reader#yandere alastor#yandere#yandere alastor x reader#yandere alastor x child reader#alastor x child reader#the radio demon
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
If your requests are open could I get a fic where Spencer lost his virginity to bau!reader the night before and when he comes into work the next day Morgan is like ‘you look different’ (you know that stereotype that people you know well can tell when you lose your virginity) and bau!reader is like yeah you do why is that Spencer🤨 lmaoo
A/N: This was a really fun request to write! Nice, short and sweet! I hope you enjoy it~♡
Warnings: implied sexual encounter, some suggestive talk, mentions of virginity.
Masterlist || Song Fic Challenge
“Wait, kid, hold up, something’s different. You get a haircut or what?”
You tried your best not to giggle profusely as the blush crept up Spencer’s neck to sit prettily across his cheeks. It had only been an hour since you'd left him sleeping soundly in your bed after a night of well… ravaging him.
Spencer Reid, your beautiful, awkward, nerdy, and charming coworker was no longer a virgin. Nor was he single. And surprisingly, he wasn't all that bad at sex either, a little cautious, but for all intents and purposes, quite the natural.
He certainly hadn't turned into a sex god over night, but you did plan to accost him rather regularly from that point onwards, so you very much were enjoying the abject look of horror passing over his features at that moment.
“I was running late this morning. My alarm didn't go off.”
You stifled a giggle, knowing that his alarm probably had gone off. He'd just been in a completely different apartment and hadn't heard it. Maybe it was still going off now.
When his eye caught yours, he froze still in a flush. It was impossible not to run tour gaze along the length of his body, showing him enough quiet appreciation you thought he'd drop to his knees.
Instead, his hands that were wrestling with his tie fidgeted more, finding it impossible to tie the damn thing like he had every morning for the last five years.
“Having some trouble, Spencer? Maybe I could help you out?” You winked at him to punctuate your question, and all he could do was stand and gulp down a breath, nodding in agreement.
“You do look pretty tired, kid? Long night?” Derek asked, a quiet bemused look hanging on his face. He'd had this same conversation with Reid at least four times in the last year, assuming that every time he came in looking slightly dishevelled, he'd enjoyed a night of pleasure.
It had certainly been pleasing to you, and you were absolutely going to help teasing Reid if you got the chance. You certainly enjoyed doing just that last night.
Grabbing the two ends of his tie and pulling him a step closer to Reid - maybe a bit too close for two people in their place of work - you began righting all of his clothes.
“You didn't wake me up,” he whispered with a pout into your ear, his pout audible even as he tried to keep his face neutral.
“I tried,” you whispered back. “But every time I got close, you lunged for me in your sleep and started grinding your morning wood into my ass.”
The flush that you enjoyed so much was now a fully glowing face. He was so red you expected steam to pour from his ears any minute.
You finish knotting his tie and brush his shirt a little, just as Derek clears his throat again.
“Kid, did you hear me? I asked if you had a long night.”
Spencer's gaze didn't leave yours, though. Even in his embarrassment, he was so intently focused on you that it nearly set your entire body on edge.
“Yeah, you could say that,” he replied, his gaze dropping to your lips. You wished they hadn't, because now you had to stop yourself from jumping him right there in the bull pen.
“Oh shit,” Derek couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled up in his chest as he stood looking from you to Spencer and then back to you.
“Oh shit. Spencer, I didn't know you had game like that.” His words were wheezed out between fits of laughter, and you were irritated when the focus in Spencer's gaze shattered, settling into a look of discontent.
“Derek, come on…” he groaned, and you put your hand gently on his chest to get him to look at you again.
“Next time, I'll work my hardest to wake you up, Spencer.”
With his jaw hanging open in shock, you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving him stood like a statue as Derek bent over in laughter, trying to catch his breath.
You smiled in your final triumph just as Emily walked over to greet the two men and opened with a question.
“Weren't you wearing that outfit yesterday, Reid?”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
need mafia!simon and shy!reader pda stuff in the club and out in public
you know what anon, i need this too. in this little shot we're gonna pretend simon and reader have been together for a bit. also i went to extreme pda and made them almost fuck hope that was okay lmao
mafia!141 masterlist
warnings: HEAVY pda, a bit of sexual tension, but mostly fluff, a little smooch, Simon can't keep his hands off of you, reader is an anxious sweetheart
How you kept ending up in a place such as John Price's club was beyond you, and frankly a bit concerning. It was the last place in the entire world that you wanted to be due to how crowded, loud, and terrifying it was, yet be it because of your friend, or Simon Riley, you always made your way back there for one reason or another.
That night wasn't much different than any of the other times you had been there, and maybe you should have been grateful for the fact that the club was at least a little predictable. What wasn't predictable, though, was your boyfriend. Out of anyone you had ever met, he was a wildcard, which both intrigued and scared you at the same time. Always keeping things interesting, he was rather sporadic which was nice and yet the single greatest cause for your anxiety in most cases.
"A little more to the right," Simon prompted.
No matter where you were at, if there was a pool table, Simon was able to find it. You noticed that he always kept his hands moving like he was hardly ever able to sit still, be it checking something on his phone, or holding your hand. Pool seemed to be his drug of choice, though, which of course meant that you would always end up playing with him, where he would mercilessly beat you in every single round.
"Like this?" you asked.
"Tad too much. There, now shoot."
Despite his guidance, the tip of your cue grazed the side of the ball which sent it spinning too far to the left. Huffing, you straightened yourself up as you watched it clumsily bounce against the sides of the table before eventually coming to a stop.
"Yikes," you muttered.
"Thanks for lining up my shot for me, sweetheart," Simon teased.
Just like the last two rounds, Simon wrangled yet another triumphant win for himself as he knocked his last three balls into the pockets before slamming the last eight ball along with them. By that point you weren't even disappointed when you lost as you were very much used to it. Your boyfriend, however, never seemed to get used to how much he enjoyed gloating after each win.
"Another round?" he suggested.
"I think it'd be more efficient if you played by yourself at this point," you sighed as you rested your cue against the table.
Mirroring your actions, Simon rested his cue next to yours before he put his hands on your hips. You weren't prepared for how quickly your mouth would run dry, and you found your eyes blinking rapidly as you stared up at him. His touch was warm, it always was, or maybe you just thought it was because it always felt like your organs were boiling whenever he even so much as looked at you. But there were so many people around, too many people around.
"Bein' a sore loser, are we?" he teased.
It took a moment for the words to form in your mouth, like his touch had completely reset your brain. Eventually, your hands came up to rest on his chest as if attempting to keep some modest space between the two of you.
"Simon, there- there are people around," you said as you anxiously glanced around the area. The VIP bar had less people than any other area in the building, but there were still too many eyes for your comfort.
"What about it?" he asked. His thumbs began to glide along your hips, desperately trying to feel the softness of your skin through the fabric of your pants.
"Someone's gonna see," you defended.
Nothing you said seemed to deter Simon from his task. His hands continued to paw at your hips as his own pushed you against the pool table, trapping your legs as his head lowered into the crook of your neck. You could feel the embarrassment boil just underneath your skin, and your fingers gripped his shirt so tightly you worried it would rip.
"Let 'em see," he said, lips grazing against your neck. "They can mind their damn business if they care so much."
"Simon, seriou-!"
Your words were cut off with a squeak as he effortlessly lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the table. His hips nestled between your thighs and you were infinitely grateful that you hadn't worn a dress that time around. Still, no matter how grateful you were, it didn't change your precarious situation.
"Trust me, sweetheart," he assured you while his hands began to wander up towards your waist, "no one cares."
Every brush of his fingers and hands against you sent shivers throughout your body. It was the strangest feeling ever, enjoying his touch and yet feeling ashamed about it at the same time. Too many prying eyes, glances not actually meant for you but ones your brain convinced you were malicious. Maybe if you were stronger, more confident, more brave, you could have actually enjoyed the moment instead of worrying so much about it.
"I care," you blurted out.
Once those words left your mouth Simon's hands ceased in wandering over your waist. He slowly moved away from your neck and leaned back to look at you, where you found his expression was much softer than you had anticipated it to be. He was handsome all the time, but even more so when he looked at you like that; like you were the only person in the whole world.
With your hands still gripping the fabric of his shirt, you yanked hard on it and pulled him close enough until your lips crashed together. Everything in your brain screamed for you to stop, that people were around, that they'd think you were a freak, but it was as if something had possessed you. Surprised, but not at all upset, Simon returned his hands back to your waist as he moved his lips against yours.
To your surprise, it was actually Simon who pulled away first, and he was not at all trying to hide the slight smirk on his lips. You blinked a few times to clear your mind before you found one of your hands reaching out for your cue stick.
"A-Another round?" you asked.
Simon tilted his head to the side and you watched as a short chuckle rippled through his chest and shoulders. He reached for his own cue before taking a step back and allowing you to slide off of the table.
"I'll go easy on you this time," he claimed.
While he set the table up you stood watching him with a hand over your chest. Your heart pulsed so powerfully in your rib cage you were certain your pulse was visible in your throat. Still, you tried to shake off that trembling feeling of excitement that coursed through your body while you pretended your hands weren't struggling to hold your cue stick due to your sweaty palms.
i thought about having simon make a joke about bending you over and fucking you on the table and everyone else could just deal with it but i thought that might've been too much so i went for something a bit more fluffy instead lmao. also requests are open again so feel free to send in some if you have any ideas (:
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Like Magic
Eddie Munson x Reader, 18+ mdni
Summary: Incredibly troupey enemies to lovers smut. The gang takes a trip together and a game of never-have-I-ever creates a new tension between you and Eddie. The classic "no one has ever made me come'' situation. A bit overused, but it still gets me every time. Hope y'all enjoy!
Warnings: afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, drinking (all characters are 21+), kind of Asshole!Eddie but not really, fingering, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), Eddie has a dick piercing because I said so, piv sex, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl this is just fanfiction, Eddie has big dick energy in this one, I said what I said, rough-ish sex but Eddie's def more of a soft dom here, a few pet names (princess, mostly), spelling/grammar mistakes, corny ending
Word count: 14k (oof… got a little carried away with this one besties)
Steve said it would be a getaway. A trip dedicated equal parts to celebrating Nancy's first big article getting published and to cheer Steve up after having been dumped by his most recent situationship. The former was the initial reason to take the trip but after finding out about Jessica or Jamie or whatever her name was you had a feeling the latter was the true motivator. Either way, Steve had found a cheap cabin up by a lake and had pitched the trip as a fun way to "get in touch with wilderness." You had a feeling it was going to be more drinking and board games than hiking and fishing, but that was fine by you.
It was nice to put in for the time off from work and have something to look forward to. A week away with your friends. And Eddie. It's not that you didn't consider him a friend... well, you didn't. But it wasn't for lack of trying on your end. You'd use the term friendly acquaintance. A person with whom you share several close friends but for some reason refuses to be friendly to you- that kind of friendly acquaintance. Okay, maybe the word friendly was a bit of a stretch.
There was an odd tension between the two of you that you couldn't quite figure out. When Robin had introduced you to her friends from high school, all staying very close over the years, you immediately hit it off with them, easily integrating yourself into their quirky dynamic. Even though Eddie sort of stuck out like a sore thumb among them, you never treated him any differently than you did Steve or Nancy. You liked that their group was so mismashed. You had made it a point to not to turn your nose up at him for any reason, expecting he typically got that reaction from those who didn't know him. At first you actually found him to be quite charming.
There was just a certain coldness he had towards you that you found off putting. Knowing what little you did about him, entirely through Robin's introductory ramblings, you could understand why he might be wary of new people. It was that you had put in an effort to get to know him and be friendly that had upset you when he didn't return the sentiment. Not only did he treat you with a certain dry curtness, but he seemed so warm and loving to everyone else. He'd ruffle Robin's hair, bear hug Steve, share a cigarette with Nancy when she was especially stressed and tell some long winded story that had her cracking up and forgetting why she was ever tense in the first place. You didn't expect immediate closeness, but a little bit of that warmth from him would have been nice.
The awkward tension between the two of you manifested as joking jabs that hit a little too close, sarcastic remarks and rolled eyes. If he was going to go out of his way to push your buttons, you had no problem doing the same. It never ruined the energy when you'd all hang out as a group, but it was an underlying feeling you could't ever seem to ignore, as much as you'd tried. So this trip was going to be a celebration for Nancy, a distraction for Steve, and a challenge for you.
The cabin really was a great find to credit Steve. You had all pitched in a little money to cover the expenses and were pleasantly surprised when you found out there were actually enough beds for all of you, a half decent kitchen, hot water, nothing special but certainly nothing to complain about either. You had access to a small dock and a beat up canoe, a little fire pit out back, the basic necessities for a half decent vacation. That, supplemented with the box of booze Steve had lugged up from the car and all of your excitement to let loose was sure to make for a good trip, if not at least a memorable one.
You had all scoped out the digs, poking around the shed outside and unloading all your stuff from the cars. You felt somewhat settled in and ready to slip into vacation mode right as the sun began to set. Steve and Nancy had taken care of bringing groceries for the week, unpacking a week's worth of dry pasta and snacks into the dusty pantry. Steve took it upon himself to cook a small meal for everyone in the kitchen, nothing fancy but still appreciated given the minimal kitchen setup, always the mom of the group. Eddie messily makes himself a rum and coke, offering Robin one as well and blatantly ignoring your presence. Not that you wanted a stupid rum and coke from him anyways. He hands her the drink and you avoid eye contact and push past him to fix a drink for yourself, quickly shuffling off to check if Steve needed any help in the kitchen.
"Too many cooks in the kitchen, y/n," Steve places his hands on your shoulders and backs you out of the small space, "go relax, I think I can handle boiling pasta by myself."
You were mostly trying to avoid the living room where Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were all settled, but Steve was right, the kitchen was far too small for you to be taking up space while he tries to cook for five. With a sigh you make the short journey over to the couch, wedging yourself next to Robin and quietly sipping on your drink, making a mental note to make the next one stronger. You easily fall into conversation, listening to Robin tell some story about when she and Steve used to work at an ice cream shop years ago, some exaggerated memory she kept referring to as "mint-chocolate-chip-gate," easily pulling laughs from all of you.
Hours later, empty plates scattered around the small makeshift dining area, a few more drinks in your system, you had hardly thought about Eddie at all. You'd managed to avoid his snippy remarks for the majority of the evening, both relishing in the good feeling of the start of a week off. It was always when you felt the tension slip away that it came back harsher than ever. The five of you crowded around the small table, playing cards shuffled into a messy deck. Robin had started a never-have-I-ever game, although childish, still fun and silly as none of you took things too seriously.
"Never have I ever," she searches her brain for something riveting, "faked an orgasm."
You and Nancy give her a fake-annoyed glance and take sips from your cups, not a huge surprise on anyone's part.
"Not fair Rob," you say, looking up from your cup, "just because you only have sex with women doesn't mean you have to target those of us unfortunate enough to be attracted to men." You and Nancy laugh.
"Sounds like the unfortunate ones are the guys you're sleeping with," Eddie mumbles. You shoot daggers from your eyes at him, "I'm just saying, how can you expect it to be any good if you're not being honest."
"Fuck off," you roll your eyes, "I'm sure you've been on the receiving end of more than one faked orgasm, Munson, it's kind of a universal truth for all women."
"Well I don't know if I'd say that-" Nancy interjects, "universal truth is kind of a big claim."
"Never have I ever," Steve interrupts, clearly trying to change the conversation, "accidentally poured salt instead of sugar into my coffee while on a first date and was too embarrassed to say anything so I just drank the salty coffee and suffered in silence."
"Oh my god," you burst out, everyone giggling, "that was such a pointed attack! I'm never telling you anything ever again!" You take a sip from your drink, being the only person in the group who has experienced that oddly specific situation.
"If you all are going to target me with the knowledge of friendship then I'm coming for all of your asses," you set down your drink and try to think of something that will surely get them to all drink, "Aha! I know, never have I ever had an orgasm during sex with a partner." Your mind was sort of still in the gutter from Robin's statement, and you knew for sure you'd get them all with this one, you knew that you were in a slim minority with that fact. It wasn't that you choose bad partners, well, that was sometimes part of it, but you just couldn't get to that place when someone else was doing it to you, only ever by yourself. You just figured it was a slight abnormality, and had resigned to a life of solo play and half decent but never truly fulfilling sexual encounters.
Steve groans, annoyed you brought the conversation back to the sexual topics he had previously steered the group away from, taking a drink alongside everyone else.
"Ha!" you gloat while everyone takes their long sips, "knew I'd get you all there. Keep trying to come for me with my oddly specific embarrassing stories and you'll all be sorry in the morning."
"I don't really think having a shit sex life is anything to brag about, y/n," Eddie snips at you.
"I'm not bragging, it's the whole point of the game to get people to drink, stupid," you shoot back, starting to regret revealing that level of personal information to him.
"Well maybe if you weren't so busy faking your orgasms you'd actually chill out for long enough to actually have one," he hurls back, the thick tension settling between the two of you.
"Jesus, Eddie, mind your own fucking business," you feel blood rushing to your face and your jaw tenses up.
"You were the one who brought it up, sweetheart," you hated how calm his voice still was, raising his hands up in fake defense, "never have I ever NOT made my partner come."
"Oh fuck off," your voice was seething, "you can't say that. There's, like, no definitive way to prove that's even true!"
"No, I'm pretty sure I know it's true," he was so fucking smug and it annoyed you to no end.
"OKAY," Steve breaks the awkward silence that had settled around the rest of the group, "I want to play cards, what do we think? Cards? Anyone?"
'Yeah, whatever,'' you felt bad if you had accidentally ruined the fun everyone was having, but it wasn't your fault Eddie decided to be such a dick about it. You help Steve shuffle the cards and start dealing, letting the heated energy dissipate around you as you wiggled your way back into normal conversation with everyone.
Several rounds of cards and a few drinks later the night took hold of the group and sent Nancy off to bed, Robin off to search for some advil that she knew she'd be grateful for in the morning, and Steve mostly asleep slumped in his chair at the table. You gently shook him awake and he grumbled a thank you and a goodnight as he dragged his body down the hall to his bed. This left you and Eddie with a half decent mess between the drinks, the aftermath of dinner, and the cards. He had started to gather the cards back into their deck while you debated on taking care of the dishes or putting it off until morning, ultimately deciding that tomorrow-you would be very thankful if tonight-you sucked it up and just cleaned up now.
"I got the rest," you start picking up everyones mostly empty cups and moving into the kitchen to tackle the mountain of dishes. Jeez Steve, how many pots does it take to boil pasta for five people? "Night, see you tomorrow," you say without turning back to look at Eddie.
He came up next to you and grabbed the dry towel off the counter, taking the soapy cup from your hand and wiping it away before stacking it on a clear part of the countertop.
"You wash, I'll dry, yeah?" he's already moved onto the next plate you had sponged down.
"It's really fine Eddie, I've got it," you appreciate the sentiment, but didn't like feeling so cramped standing with him in the small kitchen.
"I have manners, you know," he makes a harsh gesture to the dishes, urging you to get on with washing, which you do, "plus I'm not gonna let you take all the credit for cleaning up after everyone, you aren't anyone's mother or maid here."
You weren't really sure how to take that, but decided to ignore it as you continued to scrub away, silently handing him the dripping dishes as you finished cleaning them.
"I know you don't really care for me," you start, feeling the need to fill the awkward silence between you, "but can we please not make Steve and them regret inviting us both? Like, I know you're capable of being civil. I just really don't want to spend this whole trip walking on eggshells worrying that we're ruining the fun. So, this is me apologizing for anything I do this upcoming week that pisses you off for whatever reason, just know I didn't do it on purpose, and it's not worth freaking out over. I'm just trying to have a good time here, that's all."
You really couldn't tell if you felt relieved or more anxious after saying all that to him. You meant it. You really didn't want to drag any unnecessarily tense baggage around with you while everyone was just trying to enjoy their trip. You wanted him to know this, at least to feel like the blame was off your back if he was a dick to you, at least you tried to clear the air on night one.
"What? Still got your panties in a bunch over that game?" you didn't have to look over at him to hear the smirk in his voice, "Because I remember you were the one getting all in a huff about it."
"This is exactly what I'm talking about," you turn over sharply to look at him, "please just stop being such an asshole to me."
"Learn to take a joke, sweetheart," he had been drying the same mug for a little too long now, "that stick up your ass is probably the reason you can't reach the big O."
"Please, for the love of god, fuck off," you tried to not raise your voice too much given everyone's sleeping state, "What do you want me to say? Hmmm? 'Oh Eddie, I'm so jealous of all those girls you make come with your magical guitar fingers, oooooooooh, please pick me'." You roll your eyes and prepare to storm off to bed when his whole posture shifts in front of you.
"Magical guitar fingers? Hmmm?" he's really making you regret saying that, even sarcastically, you start putting the rags away, wanting to just finish up the dishes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. "You said it babe, not me."
"You're so insufferable," you bring your fingers to your temple, Eddie Muson manifesting as a special form of personal headache.
"This is exactly what I'm saying," he mockingly gestures to you, "you're the one always getting so worked up over nothing, I'm as cool as a cucumber, I think the problem might be you."
"Is everything a fucking joke to you? Can you really not be serious for three fucking seconds while I try to be straight with you about us getting along on this trip?" Your grip on the dish towel tightening.
"Me? Joking? About something so serious and romantic as having precious y/n her first orgasm with my 'magical guitar fingers' that she so obviously fantasizes about? I would never." He clasps his hands across his chest, always the fucking jester.
In a moment of white hot rage, and wanting to put him in his place, and only a tiny fraction fueled by your physical attraction to him, as much as you've tried to fight that off, you march the three steps in between the two of you and grab his wrist in your hand, holding his hand up in between the two of you.
'Fine, do it then," you maintain harsh eye contact with him, your faces only a few inches apart, "you won't. Better yet, I don't even think you could."
For the first time, you felt as if you had the upper hand, you had never rendered him speechless before. He always had some snippy comeback to everything you said, at a rapid fire pace that was honestly impressive given how subtly clever his remarks were.
"You wanna bet?" He cocks his head at you, trailing behind just a beat slower than he normally would.
You just raise your eyebrows and glance down at his hand, still in your grasp, lips pursed and voice secretly caught in your throat.
"You just say the word," he starts, voice slightly softening, "and I bet you that I can make you come using just this hand- scratch that, just these three fingers," he lowers his pointer and pinky, leaving his middle two and thumb sticking up, "in less than five minutes right here in this goddamn kitchen."
"Yeah, for what?" were you seriously considering this? Why were your thighs clenching together?
"I make you come, and not only do I get to live in your memory forever as the first idiot who had the sense to make you finish, but you're gonna be so sweet to me the rest of the trip. Make my drinks, fetch my lighter, roll all my joints with those cute little dexterous fingers of yours, be nothing but pleasant and lovely without the slightest hint of attitude." His words made you fume, but you were also inexplicably turned on, his breath fanning across your face as he spoke sending tingles down your spine.
"And when you can't, what then?" you tried to match his level of composure, but the gleam in his eye told you that he saw straight through your facade.
"If-" he starts, "you manage to hold out on me and I can't get that pretty pussy of yours to gush all over my super magical talented guitar fingers, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the trip. We never bring it up again, or you can tease me about it for the rest of our lives, totally up to you. But I'll be so civil and polite you'll hardly recognize me the rest of this trip."
You let your grasp fall from his wrist, holding your unsteady hand out to him to shake, "Deal."
He truly thought you were bluffing up until this point. When you had first met he had been impressed with how sharp you were, how you managed to meet his level of sarcasm so easily. At least he thought you had been sarcastic, after a few fumbled interactions he got the vibe that you weren't joking around with him in the jabby-playful way he was. If he was honest wit himself, he knew he sort of used this as a defense mechanism when meeting new people. Put up the walls and if they didn't like him, that was just fine.
The tension in the air was as thick as it had ever been between the two of you. You refused to break eye contact, refused to let him win. As much as you'd like to think this would be an easy way to put an end to his snarky attitude, there was no denying that a large part of you was excited, if not intrigued at the prospect of him touching you like that. Eddie was hot, you had never denied that. But the butterflies in your stomach and slight buckle of your knees indicated a little bit more than surface level attraction.
Breaking the handshake he takes a few purposeful steps forward, backing you against the nearest counter. He places a hand on either side of your body, caging you in, leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear, voice low and raspy.
"We doing this, babe? You say the word and I'll let it go now, but otherwise I'm gonna need you to unbutton those cute jeans for me."
There was no way in hell you were turning back at this point. You try to give him your best 'fuck you' expression and say, "Can't even unbutton my pants, how the hell are you gonna make me come?" Regardless, you follow his request and unbutton your pants, and better yet, slip them down your legs to let them pool at your feet.
You were still locked in between his arms against the counter, closer than you had ever been to him. As your pants hit the floor, you notice his gaze flicker down to get a look at you, then quickly back up to your face. All the while he had shifted over slightly, arm now fiddling with a dial on the stovetop. He was setting a timer, cocky bastard. He adjusts the stovetop cook timer to five minutes and casually hits the enter button, as if he had nothing to prove, as if the few extra seconds meant nothing to him.
He brings his attention back to you, knowing you were fully aware of the timer he had just set. Rather than plunging his hand straight into your already dampening underwear, his first move was surprisingly to bend down slightly and cup the backside of your knee, lifting one foot out of the pant leg that was scrunched around your ankles. From the crook of your knee, his hand slowly moved up your thigh, giving it a squeeze, acting as if he wasn't on any sort of time constraint. As promised, once he reaches your underwear he only uses one of the three promised fingers, running the tip of his middle digit along the top elastic of your panties, quirking an eyebrow, looking at you for one last assurance of consent before the two of you crossed the line. You give him a curt nod, knowing what his questioning glance meant, and with that he dips his hand into your simple cotton underwear.
Once again, you almost expected him to just shove his fingers inside of you and get on with it, but he took several long moments to run his middle two fingers up and down your slit, never entering your hole, but collecting some of your wetness and dragging it up to massage the hood of your clit gently. You wouldn't have been surprised if the oven timer went off at any given moment. It felt like he had been touching you for far longer than five minutes, despite only forty seconds having been passed. He continued to gently roll your clit between his fingers, placing one on either side of your bud and just letting them slowly massage it back and forth.
You were slowly losing control of your composure. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction, but a shallow gasp that you were sure he noticed escaped you. You mentally prepared yourself for a comment from him, a chuckle or signature smirk. Eddie never shut the fuck up, you wouldn't have been surprised if that was true in the bedroom too, or in this case, the kitchen. What did surprise you was the breathy "Good girl, that's it" he mumbled into the side of your face as he increased the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly, "just like that, relax for me, doing so well."
Fuck.
Your body responded to his words before your mind could make the conscious decision to, and you melted back into the countertop slightly with an exhale. His foot wedged in between your legs slowly slid them open a bit more, letting his ripped denim clad leg settle in between yours, his hand sinking a bit lower and slowly entering you with just his middle finger. The hand that wasn't occupied with your pussy gently came down to toy with the band of your still-on underwear, gently tugging them down as he managed to slip his second finger into you.
"That's it," he began to curl them ever so slightly, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him, "your pussy's so pretty, so good, sucking my fingers right in."
His two middle fingers were sunk all the way into you, and he was moving them in a way that had you involuntarily drop your jaw and let shallow whimpers out with every roll and thrust. This was entirely different than anything you had ever experienced before. Up until now, 'getting fingered' for you was an annoyingly uncomfortably forplay where your partner would shove a hand in and out too fast just to make sure you were wet enough to proceed with the act. Eddie wasn't even bringing his fingers out of you, he settled them in and wiggled them around until he noticed your breath catch, and just let them push into this spot that you didn't know you had. Your own fingers never could reach that deep and his were filling you perfectly, thumb toying with your clit, not too hard, but just enough to add to the sensation. Damn, he was good at this.
When his fingers finally hit that new spot inside you your body reacted with a subtle roll forward of your hips and your head fell back to rest against the cabinets, eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. "Mmm, there it is," his voice was still gentle against your ear as he continued to make you gasp and squirm, "anyone ever find this pretty little spot inside you before?" He let his fingers slide all the way out of you, spreading some wetness from your hole up to your clit with a few circular motions before sinking back down inside you.
You were biting the inside of your lip, no longer trying to hide your reactions from him, but trying to keep them quiet enough to not wake anyone in the cabin up. You wouldn't dare answer his questions out loud in your state, but you give him a quick shake of your head to indicate that, no, no one had ever touched you quite like this before.
"Such a fucking shame," he increased the pressure on your clit, not increasing speed at all, but just curling his fingers a little harder, swirling his thumb a bit more deliberately, "bet you'd make such gorgeous noises for me too, can't have anyone wake up and find us like this though, yeah? Those pretty little whimpers are for me only."
Why were his words doing more to you than his hands? Not that you had any complaints about the care and attention he was giving your center, but his face pressed so close to you, letting out sweeter words than you had ever heard from him, that was what was making your walls tighten around his two fingers. Your mind had completely slipped away from the timer, no longer questioning whether you had three seconds or three minutes left, all you could do was feel.
There was a soft squelching coming from where his hand made contact with your pussy, wetness coating his fingers and spreading to your thighs with each of his shallow thrusts. While you would typically feel a little embarassed, hearing your own arousal only turned you on more, that along with Eddie's soft "mmmm, that's it" and "good fucking girl."
You were starting to feel it, that familiar tightening. Familiar, but so different from when you got yourself there. It was the difference of jumping into water versus being pushed in. When you jump in yourself, you have time to build up the courage and the cold water is less of a surprise and more of an inevitability. This was as if someone had thrown you over their shoulder and could fling you in at any moment, entirely out of your control. You feel your head start to spin, your walls start to tighten.
Before you could let the tightening band in your lower half snap, any thought of purposely holding back and trying to not come for the sake of the bet was far gone, he takes his unoccupied hand and harshly tugs on your chin. Your head had started to roll back, pressing against the cabinets for support, eyes fluttering shut as you almost reached your peak. You were jolted back to reality as he cups your jaw and forces your head to stay upright.
"Eyes open," your impending orgasm teetering right on the edge, you would do anything he said in this moment, "you're going to keep your eyes open and look at me while I make you come." His words with a few more expert swipes of his thumb against your throbbing clit had you gasping for air. It was truly unlike any orgasm you had ever experienced.
You tried your best to follow his directions, keeping your eyes as open as you could, maintaining eye contact with him through your high as your mouth dropped open and your moans caught in your throat, silently shaking and thriving as the tension in your body eased out in waves of pleasure. His gaze burned into you, fingers keeping such a steady and consistent pace as you rode out your peak. Mumbled phrases escaped him and only made your orgasm last that much longer. Why the fuck was Eddie Munson calling you "pretty girl" making your legs shake? This shouldn't be happening. That had never been a turn on before, none the less coming from a man you typically found insufferable.
With the last pulse of your walls you found yourself acting on pure adrenaline, you completely blame the endorphins for your next action. His hand was still firmly planted on the side of your head and your thoughts were spinning so fast, you had to ground yourself, and your body decided that lurching forward and kissing Eddie was how you were going to do that. Fingers still slowly rolling inside of you, thumb now coming to rest on your overstimulated clit, he was taken aback by your action, but leaned into the kiss and swiped his wet tongue through your bitten swollen lips as you melted into him. As soon as you felt fully entangled in him, completely consumed by his hands, mouth, scraggly hair, all of him. You jerked back, quickly apologizing, "Fuck, uh, sorry, I-"
He slowly drags his hand out of your drenched thighs as you try to find words, bringing his two fingers up between his lips to suck them clean. You wanted to moan out at the sight but were still scrambling to figure out what the fuck just happened. He casually leans over and pauses the oven timer with a beep.
"Hey, 4:20, nice!" you roll your eyes at his immature comment, "we have forty more seconds on the clock, wanna go again?" he jokes.
You were so far beyond caring about this bet, you had way bigger issues to tackle than having to wait hand and foot on Eddie for the rest of this trip. You awkwardly pull up your wet panties and readjust your pants around your legs, not sure what to do or say.
"Was that good? Better than when you do it yourself?" he asks, sarcasm indetectable in his voice but you were sure it had to be there.
"Do you actually care to know or do you just want to hear me say it? Fine Eddie, you win. You have magical sex fingers and made me come in like three minutes, congratulations. It was great, the best orgasm of my life. You were right, you told me so."
"Well that's great to hear and all but I wasn't looking for an ego boost or anything, babe," his tone was lighthearted and you weren't expecting it, "I just know it's like wayyyy different for me when its my hand versus another person, not to mention the difference between all the holes and whatnot."
"Gross!" you laugh and scrunch up your nose, not noticing how he was pouring you a glass of water.
"I'm just saying!" He holds his hands up defensively as he silently hands the cup to you, "I've never experienced a female orgasm so I just wanted to know if it was any different than when you use the showerhead."
"Oh my god I-" you start, in between gulps of water.
"Oh, don't even start," he cuts you off, "we both know that all girls do that, don't try and be all shy with me now babe, I know what your 'oh' face looks like."
You feel a heat rise to your cheeks and you bury your gaze down into your almost empty glass of water. "Yeah Eddie, it was different and it was better. Your fingers rank higher than the jet setting of my shower head, do you want a trophy?" This sort of banter usually had a sharper edge to it between you, but there was a new softness and humor to the way you communicated. Maybe he was just being nice because he felt bad for you, because you were so desperate that you came from three fingers on a kitchen counter in less time than most top forty radio hits.
"I'm glad it was good for you," he says, almost sincerely, "night sweetheart." With that he turned around and exited the kitchen, keeping his composure all the way down the hall until he could burst into his room, rid himself of his clothes, and pull his cock at the thought of how you felt wrapped around his fingers, the little whimpers and noises you made, how you looked right at him as you came, how you kissed him afterwards.
You were left somewhat dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the kitchen with an empty cup in your hands, looking around as if something else was going to happen. You weren’t expecting him to invite you back to his bed for a cuddle or anything like that, but you had just experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life followed up by some joking conversation and a friendly cup of water? It just didn't feel right. Then again, who the fuck has their first orgasm from someone else while being timed.
You didn't regret it though. You actually felt a sense of relief. While you were pretty aware that your past sexual partners had been a bit selfish or underwhelming, a part of you had always wondered if that part of you was broken. If there was a part of your brain that would never let you reach that vulnerable state at the hands of someone else. That you would only ever trust yourself to let go and feel that kind of pleasure. Nope. Not broken. Definitely not broken.
You feel like you're in a trance as you walk back to your room, shower, slip into pajamas and drift off to sleep. You started to wonder how the energy would be between you and Eddie in the morning, but as soon as you gave it any thought your brain decided it was time to shut down. You'd deal with it when it happened.
Your head still felt cloudy the next morning, processing the sexual high and confusing social situation you now found yourself in. You knew one thing for sure, you'd never be able to look at Eddie again without thinking about last night. Suddenly the thought of him playing guitar, shuffling a deck of cards, smoking a joint, all felt inherently sexual to you despite never having that connotation before. You were fucked.
What's even worse is when you tried to rub one out in the shower to ease some of your nerves before going downstairs for coffee all you could think of was comparing how your hand felt to Eddie's. It's like he put a stupid curse on you, that all your orgasms would now feel half hearted. It's like you were hungry and were served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when you could smell a chef preparing a five star meal in the room over. Sure, a PB&J is fine, but now that you've had fine dining it just didn't quite cut it. On top of that your newly corrupted brain couldn't help but theorize about what else Eddie was capable of. He made you come in basically four minutes with three fingers. As soon as you let your mind wander you pull yourself out of it, make the shower as cold as your body can stand, and gear up to face the music, or at least put on an awkward front in front of all of your friends.
You were the first person in the kitchen, but you heard a fair amount of shuffling going on around the creaky cabin so you suspect your friends will be down soon. You take it upon yourself to put on a full pot of coffee and survey the pantry for breakfast options.
"Morning, y/n," Steve greets you passively, eyes clearly set on the coffee that's almost done brewing.
"Oh wow, did you do the dishes last night?" Nancy inquires, her and Robin taking their places at the table while everyone waits for the coffee to finish.
"Oh yeah, it was nothing. Eddie and I did it, only took like five minutes," you wince at yourself.
"Were the two of you up real late?" Steve questions, "I tried to get him up a minute ago but he was knocked out."
"Oh," you start, relying on pouring coffee to everyone as an excuse to not make any eye contact, "I'm not really sure, we were only really up for like ten, twenty minutes after you all went to bed. Maybe he stayed up late in his room." None of it was a lie.
"Whatever, let him sleep this beautiful day away," Steve's whole demeanor changed after a single sip of caffeine, "I say we go down to the dock and check out that canoe, maybe have lunch on the dock? Could be nice."
A murmur of agreement among the group settled the plans for the day, relaxing by the lake, doing exactly what you had intended this trip to be about. You all scarfed down quick breakfast and coffee and separated to change into swimwear. You hated that you thought of Eddie as you picked out your swimsuit. Did he even see you like that? When he called you pretty last night, was that all part of an act to win some stupid bet? You'd be better off assuming so, you decide, you don't want to get wrapped up in your own thoughts about how he thinks of you only to be totally wrong. But you secretly did hope that he'd check you out at least once.
You sprawled out on a big towel on the rickety dock, letting Robin, Nance, and Steve figure out the canoe. It didn't look like it could comfortably for more than two, and three was pushing it, so you decided to sit this one out considering the lake water looked a little murky. You set yourself up comfortably with a glass of lemonade and a book you were halfway through, letting the sun sink into your skin and illuminate the pages as you squinted at the words through the sunshine. You could hear their friendly bickering off in the distance, their canoe now a tiny speck off on the horizon of the lake. You could occasionally hear Robin shriek as Steve threatened to tip them all over.
You felt the dock creek behind you before he said anything, not bothering to turn around from your comfortable position, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Eddie. He made his way down to your towel, inviting himself to plop down next to you and dip his toes into the lake below. He was only in his boxers and a ratty tshirt, a mostly full cup of black coffee sloshing around in the mug he held.
He made you nervous, not sure what the energy would be like between the two of you now. You almost felt worried that nothing would have changed at all. You ignored the buzzing in your abdomen and kept your eyes on your book as he kicked up the lakewater and sipped his coffee next to you, seeming comfortable in your mutual silence.
“Reading anything good?” you knew he’d be the one to break the silence, ever the chatty Cathy. You were surprised at the genuine question rather than a smart remark or joke at your expense.
You told him what you thought of your current read, filling him in a bit on the general plot. Part of you decided that you no longer had the right to give him the edge you usually did. He had won the upper hand fair and square and you were willing to accept that. You could play nice, play by his rules.
You felt like your conversation was going well, or well enough. He asked to see your book, which you willfully handed over. You’d regret doing that. He dog-eared the page you were on and quickly set your book off to the back of the deck before moving at lightning speed and scooping you up and hurling you through the air and into the lake water. What the actual fuck was his problem.
Before you could even register the cold lake water you emerge from your splash and gasp for air. You don’t even have a moment to find where the dock is to cuss him out before you see his cannonballed form fly above you and crash into the lake next to you. His shirt and coffee were abandoned with your book and he emerged from the water with that stupid goofy smile.
That stupid goofy smile that made you less mad that he had thrown you in the lake. What was wrong with you? You should be pissed. Why did his annoying antics suddenly make you feel giggly? You knew exactly why, but wouldn't allow yourself to think about it for longer than a moment.
“Eddie you bitch!” you splash him as soon as you can locate him and that stupid smile. You couldn’t help but smile too. He knew you wouldn’t stay mad. The two of you play-wrestle for a moment, splashing each other and taking turns pushing the other under the lake’s surface.
“I was reading,” you continue to protest.
“And now you’re swimming!” He splashes you again, “We’re on a lake trip, y/n, not a library trip.”
You debated swimming out to where the canoe was, but mutually decided that sounded like too much work. Instead you took turns jumping off the dock and diving down to the bottom of the lake for rocks and other random junk. Eddie even found an old boat anchor.
Once the other three came in from their canoe adventure you all ate packed sandwiches for lunch in the sunshine on the dock. You couldn’t help but take in the moment, knowing you'd be nostalgic for it in the future. You were surrounded by some of your best friends without a care in the world, only focused on pb&j sandwiches and who was going to make the fire later.
After a backyard bonfire and several failed attempts at roasting hot dogs on sticks you all started to slow down and let the day in the sun take you to bed. You showered the feeling of lakewater off your skin and out of your hair with lots of soap and as hot of water as the cabin would allow. You thought you’d cozy up in bed and read some more of your book, or even crash right to sleep, but a nagging feeling kept pulling at you.
As sleepy as you wanted to be, and as interesting as your book was, your mind couldn’t pull itself away from the idea of what Eddie was doing down the hall. It was late enough that the others were probably asleep, you probably should be too. After rereading the same sentence four times you decided to abandon your book and just follow your curiosities.
Before your better judgment could stop you, you lightly knocked at Eddie’s door and cracked it open. You peek around the sturdy wooden door to see him propped up on the headboard, shirtless with a giant book in his lap. His lean chest and arms were littered with random tattoos, nothing you hadn't seen before swimming or when he wore those unbuttoned and ripped up shirts that he often did, but this time you couldn't help but stare at them.
“Sure just come right in,” he comments with a joking tone as you peek around the corner of his door.
“Sorry, sorry,” you half whisper through gritted teeth, “I just-”
You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You just what? Were curious about what he was doing? Wanted to see him? Wanted to know what he would say if you came to his room?
To your surprise he shifts to the side of his bed and opens a space next to him, lifting the sheet that covers his lower half and patting the space next to him. Your eyes widened in surprise a bit before you moved a bit too enthusiastically across the room and settled onto the mattress next to him.
“Hope I’m not bothering you,” you start, genuinely feeling bad if you were intruding.
“You? Not at all. I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings eighty times or so,” he turns over the enormous book in his lap.
“Wow, I didn’t know you could read,” you immediately felt bad, but knew your tone was joking enough to be permissible.
“Very funny,” he sets the book on his nightside table, turning his attention to you. You suddenly felt a spotlight on you, a sudden stage to explain the reason you showed up in his room. Truthfully you didn’t have one. Or, you didn’t have the words to tell him why.
“I-” you start, noticing how small your voice sounded, “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Is that so?” He looked genuinely surprised.
“Yeah, I just-” you still don’t know where you’re going with this, “I just wanted to apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t like you. I know we kind of go back and forth a lot, but I never really meant to make you feel like I dislike being around you. I just want to start over with you, if that’s okay?”
“Is this because you know all the rumors about my magic guitar fingers are true,” he smirked and leaned his head into yours, an action that would typically make your blood boil that you now found endearing.
“No- well yes- but no,” you couldn’t help but be flustered, finding yourself fidgeting with the hem of his sheet that you had tucked your feet under, knees pushed up against your chest, “I just thought that things were going to be really awkward between us today, or that you were going to be a huge asshole to me. But I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been fair to you, and maybe you weren’t fair to me either, so it would be nice to start over?”
“Do you want to start over right now, or do you want to start over, including last night?” He already knew that even if the two of you ‘started over’ neither of you could forget, or even pretend to forget what had transpired in the kitchen. You let out a sigh. You were thinking the same thing.
“Up to yout,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ll leave and never bring it up again, but I can't pretend like I haven’t been thinking about it since it happened.”
“Is that so?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“Shut up, you know it is,” you bump his shoulder with yours.
“Is it because you touched yourself and realized it didn’t feel the same?” his voice grew deeper, and you could feel his gaze pressing into the side of your face, “or because you imagined it was my fingers between those pretty legs of yours.”
You couldn’t help your head from falling back against his headboard and eyes to find solace in the ceiling before gathering the courage to answer him. His face was already inches from your neck, all you needed to do was close the gap, but a part of you was still worried.
You look tentatively into his eyes, big and brown and drawing you in, but you don't let yourself lean in all the way. You had initiated the first kiss between you two last night in the kitchen and had been shaken with worry that you had crossed a line. You didn't want to embarrass yourself again, so you held back. What if he thought that was too intimate? You hoped he didn't. Even though it had left you tense and anxious, kissing him was just as memorable as the orgasm he had given you. You remembered how his mouth tasted, how he slipped his tongue past your lips immediately, how you didn't have to think about anything other than how he was making you feel.
Eddie, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were thinking. He knew that he'd left you a bit high and dry last night. If he was being honest, he wanted to stay in that kitchen and kiss you over and over, offering to take you to bed, his bed. He left for two reasons: he wanted to maintain whatever aura of mystery and intrigue he had garnered by making you feel so good, the tensions were high and it felt right to keep the game up, Eddie enjoyed the cat and mouse, back and forth that the two of you had, and this had taken it to an incredibly fun and elevated state, and he had to leave to release his cock from the confines of his pants. If he was going to fuck you, he was going to fuck you right, and if you had stayed in that kitchen any longer he would have either busted in his pants or promptly three seconds after you made any sort of move on him.
He knew you were nervous. That you found him hard to read and unpredictable. That's probably why the two of you never really got along, and he knew it. He knew that the orgasm he gave you was the most pleasure you had ever felt, and that you hadn't stopped thinking about it for a moment since. It was written all over your face. He couldn't blame you. If he had never had the pleasure of climaxing during sex or at the hands of another person he surely would be in a spell over it too. He knew you needed to be taken care of, and that he had proved himself to be trustworthy of doing so.
While you were caught in your own head debating whether Eddie would kiss you or not, it only takes him a split second to crane his neck around to meet your face and catch your lips in a kiss backed by purpose and intent. He knew how to read your body language. Eddie grew up worrying what everyone around him was thinking of him, or what they were planning to do to him/ He knew how to tell when someone was angry or upset or disgusted. An arch of an eyebrow or a twitch of a hand could mean the smallest things, things that always came back to bite Eddie. He also could tell that your breath was caught in your throat and you were overthinking still, he knew to let the kiss linger for a moment and let you find your footing before deepening it.
The moment he feels your shoulders relax a bit and your head lean ever so slightly into his, he cups the sides of your neck with his hands. Those hands. Littered with tiny stick and poke tattoos and those clunky metal rings. Who the fuck wears jewelry to bed? You had taken note of how his rings had felt shoved down the front of your underwear the night prior, and now you relished in how the distinct metal felt against the soft skin under your jaw.
Last night you kissed him in the heat of the moment. Now he was kissing you. Really kissing you. Tugging on your bottom lip and running his tongue across yours until your stomach felt like you were on the dip of a roller coaster. Kissing you until you were breathless and your cheeks began to run hot, until you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose, or could hardly remember where you were or what time it was. You would have traded every sexual experience you'd had for what he did to you in the kitchen last night, and you'd trade every kiss up until now for the one you found yourself in.
His hands were in your hair, and his lips moved from yours, now wet and pouty, down to your neck. He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked against your skin, gently tugging your hair in the direction he wanted to open your neck up for him. When his bottom teeth dragged across a particular spot in between your jaw and ear a soft moan escaped your lips. You immediately sucked in a sharp breath.
"MmmHmmm," he mumbles into you, still attacking that spot that had elicited the noise, "let me hear you."
You let out a groan and moved to straighten your neck, wanting his mouth on yours again. The hand in your hair kapt you exactly where he wanted though, now using a touch more force.
"You wanna know a secret?" the hand not in your hair ran up and down your rib cage underneath your shirt, trailing from the band of your pants up to the underside of your breast and then gently back down, "Do you know what you do to me?"
"Mmmm, no what?" you could hardly recognize your own voice, now pitched up and airy.
"Those pretty noises you made for me, and the thought of you wrapped around my fingers has been driving me crazy all day, y/n. Do you know what I thought about while I jerked off last night? Those moans, and that pretty cunt you have, and the gorgeous face you made when I got you there. It's all I can see when I look at you now. It made me come so fucking hard last night and it's gonna take a lot of time and illegal substances to make me forget it."
You wiggled your hips up into his touch, wanting him to move faster but knowing he was going to take everything at his pace whether you liked it or not. "Fuck Eddie," he sucked on your earlobe and continued to bite against your soft skin, "you think I'm pretty?" You sounded fucking pathetic, you wouldn't have caught yourself dead asking any boy that, let alone Eddie before tonight.
"Pretty? I think those little moans you make are pretty. And that cunt you have, prettiest I've ever seen. That little bikini you had on today, that was pretty too. You wear that for me?"
"Maybe," you gasp out as his hand dared to venture lower, still over your pajama pants but dipping up and down where he knew your wet slit was.
"Sure, lots of things about you are plenty pretty, but fuck," he loved how responsive you were, already rolling your hips against his hand despite the layers of fabric preventing you from getting what you really wanted, "You? you really are somethin' else."
He could tell you were tired of his teasing, so in between kisses he tugs your shirt up and lets you pull it over your head. He presses your warm skin against his, using all his strength to stay in the moment and feel how nice your tits feel squished up against him, rather than immediately ravish you. He'll get to that, he knows you deserve his patience.
“Just-” you gathered your thoughts, “tell me you want me too, that this isn’t some sort of power trip or pity fuck. I don’t want it if this is some game to you.”
His heart sank a bit at your inquiry, worried that you thought of last night as some sort of power trip for him, although that was what the two of you had framed it as, a power play. He knew there was something deeper and hoped you had felt that too.
“Of course I want you. As much as it was nice to put you in your place, you brat, I didn't make you come to prove anything. I made you come because I wanted to.”
“Will you do it again?” your voice was barely a wiper, your neck craning around to meet his intense gaze.
“Again with my fingers,” he shifted so you were now slumped beneath him, his leg slotting comfortably between yours and his hands coming to cup your cheeks, shoulders angled above yours and hair creating a perfect curtain around your faces, “and my tongue, and my cock,” he leaned down to kiss you, “and all the other ways you’ll let me show you.”
You were a mess. A puddle of arousal and swarming thoughts of nothing but Eddie. Your hands flew up to tangle themselves in his beautiful curls, massaging the nape of his strong neck. The most passionate and enthusiastic kiss you had ever participated in. You were on fire for him. Any former doubt or worry that the actions of last night had on you dissipated into the air along with the breathy moans you couldn’t help but let out in between kisses and touches.
His knee pushed your thighs apart and you willingly splayed yourself out like a ragdoll for him to move and manipulate under him however he pleased. Before you could focus on his hands dipping into your underwear, he bit at your lower lip and pulled back, causing you to crane your neck and chase after his lips as he moved away. You were about to pout about the loss of contact, but his fingers dipping through your wet folds were plenty distracting. He sits back a bit to focus on pulling down your pants and underwear while still stroking you with his opposite hand.
You were too busy squirming under him, both from his slow methodical fingers against your cunt and a half hearted attempt to kick off your garments that were now pushed around your knees to notice his unwavering gaze that raked over your newly exposed body. His resolve was about to break, along with the dam that held back his desire and excitement to feel every inch of you, to make you feel good, to be the first person to make you feel good. He had always thought you were gorgeous, but picking fights is a lot easier than trying to flirt so he settled for riling you up the only way he thought he could.
He swats backwards to assist you in removing your final articles of clothing which are caught on your ankles, and as he leans back forward into you he sinks two thick fingers into you with a smirk on his face. It was a sudden stretch, but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance. Your eyes want to squeeze shut, but you can't help but keep your sight locked on the shit eating grin that spreads across Eddie's face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He had made you fall apart in just over four minutes last night, and now he was going to take his time and have his fun with you. How could he not? You were so responsive to him, whimpering and writhing with every small movement, muscles tensing and your perfect lips parting open every time he curled his fingers upwards or brushed your clit with his palm.
He swoops down to give your tits some attention, and you let yourself tangle your fingers into his unruly curls. Between licks and nips he mumbles into your skin, "so fuckin' perfect" and "doing so good for me." He can feel your walls squeezing his fingers, soaking his palm, so he slows his roll a bit, wanting to draw you out a bit longer. You wanted to pull him up for a kiss, but he was deeply concentrating on sucking the perfect purple hickey to the underside of your breast. You could have sworn you heard "mine" come out of his mouth in between sucks and heavy breathing, but you couldn't be sure.
Once he released your skin with a wet pop, you tugged at his hair to beg for a kiss. Eddie liked you all whiney and desperate for him though, so he just lets you tug on his hair as hard a you want as he continues moving down your body, teeth dragging across your ribcage, his hot flat tongue licking a stripe across your hip bone just before blowing a stream of cool air across the new wet trail. All the while his fingers slowly rolled inside of you, making this delicious wiggling motion that had you feeling full and seeing stars.
He pulls his fingers out of you, taking a mental picture of how hot it was that your slick had soaked him down to his rings. Before you can sit up with any sort of protest, he cups his hands on the backs of your thighs and pushes forward to effectively fold you in half. Your head perks up, about to inform him that he is wildly overestimating your flexibility, he cuts you off.
"Just lay back," his hands run up and down from your inner knees down to your ass and back up, "lay back and let me make you feel good, you can do that for me, yeah?"
"Yeah okay," you breathe out as he places a tender kiss to the part of your thigh just under your bent knee, a part of you that had never had any sexual connotation before, and now the feeling of his lips were permanently seared into the skin there.
The last thing you caught sight of before your eyes rolled into the back of your head was Eddie spitting straight onto your pussy, not that it wasn't wet enough already, and immediately going in to lick a fat stripe up the middle of your center. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he repeated the action, his grip on the meat of your thighs tightening and leaving fingerprint sized indents. He attached his lips to your clit and rolled it against his tongue in a way that you had never experienced.
Sure, you'd been on the receiving end of head before, but not like this. It had always been a 'hey, I just need to make sure your pussy is wet enough for my dick' sort of situation and never a 'it would be my pleasure to die here in between your thighs' situation. The moans that escaped you were shaky and broken, unlike the noises coming from between your legs, a sinful combination of wet slurping and Eddie deeply moaning and humming approval into you as he ate you out.
Your legs began to shake, partially from your growing orgasm, and partly from this advanced yoga position Eddie had you in. He slid a hand down from the juncture of your leg to toy with the pooling wetness at your hole. You let your wobbly hand replace his holding your knee back for him, keeping you spread open and on display as he stuffed two fingers into you, continuing to suck on your clit.
"Ohmyfuckinggod," your words slurred together in a high pitched moan, "Eddie- Eddie, fuck." You were no longer in control of the noises coming out of your mouth, a barely coherent slew of Eddie's name, 'fuck's' and 'please.'
He groaned into your cunt, picking up the pace and curling his fingers into you just like he had the night before, this time with the added pleasure of his mouth devouring you. You were not long for this world.
'You're gonna make me come," you warned him, your voice sounding on the verge of a sob, "feels so fucking good, Eddie, please."
Your eyes screwed shut and legs fell from their pushed back position to clamp around his head as your orgasm took over you. Crashing waves of pleasure that were pulling you out like a riptide. All you can feel is the release, hardly noticing your shaking legs or broken moans. Eddie moves up to catch your lips in a deep, wet kiss, slowing his hand as you ride out the end of your orgasm, still quivering around him.
You were severely out of breath, but refused to break the kiss. His slick, swollen lips swallowed your moans and anchored you, bringing you back down to earth.
"Mmmmm," he hums into the kiss, "you need to quiet down, unless you're tryina get me in trouble," he whispers into your lips, dipping down for another soft kiss as you regain your composure.
"Fuck, sorry," you pant out.
"Don't apologize to me," he slowly pulls his hand from your center and you wince slightly, "if it were just the two of us in this cabin I'd insist you let those pretty moans out to your heart's content."
"I'll be quiet," you reach down to palm him through his low hanging pajama pants, "will you please fuck me? Need to feel your cock in me so badly Eddie, I know you're gonna make me feel so good again."
A feral groan rumbles in his chest, head tilting back towards the ceiling as you stroke what felt to be an incredibly well endowed cock.
"You sure you're up for it?" Now it was his turn to show the hint of neediness in his voice.
"Are you sure?" You question back, getting a better grip through the material of his pants.
"You know I wanna fuck you," he ruts into your hand ever so slightly, "but I need to hear you say it."
"I already did Eddie," you mumble into his neck, "Want your cock so bad, I want to make you feel good too."
He rolls over onto his back, and slips off his pants and boxers. You shift onto your knees next to him, unsure of what position he'd want you in. As his hard cock springs out of his elastic waistband and onto his stomach you lose control over your facial muscles and let your slack jaw hang open, eyes bulging slightly.
"Wh-" a look of concern on his face grows as he notices your expression, looking from you, down to his cock, then back to you, "Oh! The piercing?"
You were completely frozen, because the only thing more shocking than the two little metal balls sticking out of his cockhead was the fact that Eddie Munson had a pornstar dick. Thick, long, girthy, perfectly curved, the most glorious shade of blushed pink. No wonder he had decided to bedazzle it, it was gorgeous. Not only was it the largest and most aesthetically pleasing dick you'd ever seen, in real life or photos, you sure as hell had never had one that big inside you.
"Yeah, the piercing-" your voice trailed off, still gawking at it.
"Shit, I'm sorry if you're like, super freaked out," the worry in his voice snapped you out of your trance, "I guess I maybe should have warned you-"
"No no," you were quick to correct his concern, reaching down to wrap your hand, which hardly fit, around it and give a few experimental strokes, "it's fucking perfect." You were visibly salivating, wanting to feel how the metal balls felt against your hot tongue.
"I mean, it's okay I guess," you say, sitting up, "I wouldn't want to give you an ego or anything," joking sarcasm rolled off your tongue, "but fuck..." the way he twitched in your hand drew you back in, not thinking twice before leaning forward and letting your tongue run from the underside of his shaft up across the metal balls that decorated the head, all the way up to his leaking slit. Your tongue gathered his precum and went back to explore how the piercing felt against your lips, rolling it across your tongue, placing open mouthed kisses to the head.
"Shit-" he hisses out, Eddie knew his dick was fine, maybe a little bigger than average or something, but no one had ever stopped to admire it, compliment it. Then again, most of Eddie's sexual escapades were just that, escapades. Random girls in bar bathrooms, quickies in the back of his van, a few weed customers who he didn't mind exchanging a good quick fuck for a discount. Sure, he'd heard the 'oh you're so big' line mid thrust, but everyone said that about the person they're fucking, right?
After feeling his hips twitch a bit underneath you, you release his cock with a soft pop and climb on top of his torso. Grinding down on his hard length with a few slow forward rolls of your hips, you can't help but lurch forward and capture his lips in a kiss. You let out a deep moan as you feel the head of his cock catch your clit as you drag your wet folds up and down his shaft. Your foreheads stay pressed together as your mouth opens in a silent gasp, his hands coming down to guide your hips and dig his fingertips into your ass.
"Fuck, princess," his voice was low and sexy, and the new nickname had you bucking your hips a little harder, "lay back and let me make you feel good again. This is all about me giving it to you right, yeah? So let me do all the work."
You know his intentions were sweet, but you kept his hips pinned under yours. "Eddie I-" you pull back a bit to meet his eyes, "you can fuck me however you want in a bit, but... I've never had anything that big inside me before and..."
"Shhhh," his hands ran up and down your sides, "we can take it slow, promise. You can sit on my cock and take it at your own pace, let it fill you up right, don't wanna hurt you."
With that you nudged his tip into your entrance ever so slightly, taking a moment to feel how his piercing dragged across your cunt and left a cool metal trail that sent a shiver down your spine. Once you slipped the head inside you, it really wasn't any different from an unpierced dick, other than the sheer girth of it. Your teeth caught your lower lip, sinking down to take the first two inches or so, letting your opening adjust to its size.
It was taking everything in Eddie's willpower not to thrust up into you, or grab your hips and roll them down onto his aching cock. But he knew better than that, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in any way. So he stayed still, holding in a deep and shaky breath as you started to take him. Part of him wanted to look away from the gorgeous faces you were making, because if you were going to bat your eyelashes and tuck that perfect lip in between your teeth he was going to come a lot sooner than either of you would like. But he can't bring himself to do it, loving the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost like when you were angry.
You were fully seated on his cock now, breathing slowly and leaning back to sit up straight on it, somehow pushing it even deeper into you.
"That's it," Eddie's hands still gripped at your hips, making sure you were steady on him, "that's my girl, taking me so well."
You experimentally shifted your weight front to back, rocking your hips shallowly against his. You felt Eddie move underneath you, reaching his hand from its place on your hip to your back. He adjusted his position, and pushed up against the headboard to sit upright, now holding your torso against his. He smoothed your hair across the back of your head.
"It's okay if you need a minute," he took your chin in his hands, clenching his jaw as you continued to rock your hips into his, "don't want you to hurt yourself.
"Just feel so fucking full," you whispered into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage, "need you to fuck me, fuck me deep and hard, please Eddie, need it."
He arches his hips up slightly to meet your hips as they come down, and your eyes practically spin into the back of your head. He takes it slow, his first few thrusts from under you are careful and gentile. You continue to mumble "please" and "more" into his lips, so he scoops you up from your back and flips you over, not removing his cock from deep within you as you settle down into the mattress. Your legs wrap around his hips and he pushes his dick all the way into you, reaching a new spot that knocks the wind out of you.
"Fuck just like that," your words are hardly there, "so fucking good, Eddie, Eddie..."
"Beautiful," he fucks into you a little harder, "your pussy was fucking made for me." His hands were settled on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread nice and open for him to pound his cock into you. He lets one hand press into your lower stomach, pushing his cock down while inside you, causing you to let out a gasp. He lets his palm spread your on your lower abdomen, letting his thumb creep closer and closer to your clit, catching it every so often as your hips rolled back and forth with his thrusts.
"You gonna be good and let me make you come again?" he asks, the cocky edge in his voice has you losing all coherence, "so pretty wrapped around my cock."
The movements of his thumb are much more deliberate now, rubbing your clit in tandem with the movement of his hips. He wasn't fucking you particularly fast, but he was making sure his cock was buried all the way inside you with every thrust, rolling his hips forward and punctuating each thrust with extra pressure.
"Oh my god, I-" your head was thrown back into the flannel pillowcases, body starting to tense up again. You were still so wet and turned on from your last orgasm, but coming while his massive cock was in you was going to be entirely different, you could feel it.
"That's it, come on my cock," he could feel the muscles in your thighs start to tighten, the walls of your pussy fluttering around him as he drew methodical figure eights on your clit. You felt so fucking good around him, so warm and wet and tight, swallowing his cock up with every thrust. That plus those damn sounds you were making. But Eddie had a goal, and couldn't be distracted by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body, his one and only focus was to push you over the edge, to take care of you and do it right.
The choked sobs leaving your heaving chest were the first indicator that you were about come, that and your pussy gripping him like a fucking vice. You weren't able to form words as you fell apart for him, just letting broken moans escape you as your body shook and released all that tension. Part of you could hear a string of praises coming from him, but all you could focus on was the ripple of your orgasm tearing through your body.
You start to come down for it, catching your breath, until you feel him pull out of you entirely and push you legs back as he had before, and dip his head down to lick down your quivering center. He lapped up your wetness and sent a few aftershocks buzzing into your core. His tongue slowed down and he let you settle down, before pushing his tongue entirely into you and letting out the most sensual groan right into your cunt.
"Holy shit," you let out, looking down at him and realized that next to seeing his dick for the first time, Eddie lapping up your orgasm was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.
He sat up and let his cock rest in between your puffy pussy lips, his pierced head sitting right on your sensitive clit. He lets the weight of it fall into his hand and gives your pussy a few taps with his cock, sending your hips jerking from the sensitivity.
"Eddie," you start, eyes glassy and voice hoarse, "please keep fucking me, don't want you to stop."
"You want more?" a comment half cocky and half serious.
"Mhmm, want you to fuck me hard," your hands came up to play with your tits, "want you to come in me, use me, give it to me hard how I know you like it."
"'S'that right," he quickly grabs your hips and flips you over, angling your ass up in the air for him, "you wanna take all my come like the good girl you are?"
"Please," your muffled voice comes up from the sheets, "I'm on the pill, it's okay, it's safe."
"Mmm fuck," he slips his cock back into your soaking wet hole, guiding your hips back and forth with his big hands, "thank you, so fucking perfect for me, you can tell me if I go to hard, yeah?"
"Yeah Eddie," you try your best to bounce back on his cock, but know he's doing most of the work moving your ass to slap against his hips, "I want it hard."
With that he takes the initiative to snap his hips forward with every thrust, pulling your gorgeous ass back against him and twitching inside you every time it comes flush with his lower stomach. He can't help but bring a flat palm down to smack it, loving the big red handprint he leaves behind, and loving even more the muffled moan that leaves you when he does so.
"Y'like that?" he already knows you do, but just wants to hear you say it.
"Yes, again, please," each word comes out as a short gasping breath. He smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle against his palm has him thinking he's died and gone to heaven, you his personal angel.
Although he can feel the end in sight, he wants to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock again, so he snakes his hand under your arched hips and toys with your clit. You're beyond fucked out at this point, but can't help but prop yourself up on straightened arms to give him more room to rub against you. He leans down to press his chest against your back, one arm coming down by your side to support his weight as he fucks down into you.
"One more time," he lets out into the skin of your shoulder, "can you come for me one more time, princess?"
“I-” you start, about to tell him you’re unsure, but then he starts rubbing fast strokes against your clit and you’re already seeing stars.
He’s fucking into you fast and hard, just like you’d asked him to. The feeling of you clenching down on him has him biting your shoulder to hold back his grunts and moans. As soon as he feels your pussy start to gush around him, your arms collapsing and legs shaking under him, he lets go with a soft grunt and spills his come deep inside you.
He lets his cock stay there for a moment, pulsing inside you, relishing in the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him. He pulls out slowly and you let out a small yelp, letting your hips fully sink down to the mattress without his hands to heep you propped up.
He runs a hand across your thigh, and you acknowledge your attention with a hum.
“M’gonna go get something to clean you up,” his voice is soft and you nod into the pillows, making a half hearted attempt to roll your body over. He uses his discarded sweatpants to wipe off his forehead and chest, suddenly aware of how sweaty he is, you both are.
He slips on his boxers and creeps down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a big glass of water and a clean hand towel run under the sink. He slips back into the room to find you paid out on the bed, all sweaty and fucked out, it’s the best you’ve ever looked to him.
He lifts you up by the shoulders and helps you sit up while you take a few sips of water and let out a “thank you” in between sips. He runs the warm cloth in between your legs a few times to catch anything sticky, before tossing it into the pile with his dirty clothes.
You were already mostly knocked out, all the energy completely drained from your body. Typically you’d awkwardly dance around the notion of spending the night or not, but your eyes felt too heavy to care, and your body was already molded into his sheets. He flicked off the bedside light and got settled into bed next to you, thinking you were already completely asleep.
“Thank you Eddie,” your voice was sleepy and almost didn't cut through the air.
“No problem, good sex is dehydrating,” he responds, assuming you meant the thanks for the water and towel.
“No thank you for taking care of me,” you roll into his arms, snuggling up against him, “I didn’t know sex could be like that.”
“Like what?” he partially knew what you meant, given that the three times you’ve ever come during sex all happened in the past hour.
“Like magic,” you’d have been embarrassed to say it in other circumstances. But the post sex bliss and intense sleep that was washing over you made you sort of hazy and elated.
“Yeah I think you’re pretty magic too,” he wrapped you up in his arms, feeling the same tiredness, “good night y/n.”
The next morning he felt a sort of sore stiffness in his body, wiping the crust from his eyes and suddenly remembering the events of the night prior. There was an empty warm spot in the bed next to him, indicating you must have slipped out recently. He shook out his messy bedhead and threw on some sweatpants.
A short trip down the hall brought him into the kitchen, where you were making a pot of coffee. You heard him come in from the hallway, and you suddenly tensed up at the thought of facing him. How did he look so damn good mid yawn, rubbing his face and his hair a wild mess.
You turn towards the coffee machine on the counter, frantically trying to think of what to say or how to act towards him. Before you could give it too much thought, you feel his presence directly behind you, his arms caging you in and his back pressed against you.
“Are you pouring me a cup?” he asks, hunching down to rest his chin on your shoulder.
“Yes,” you elongate the word, taking in his scent and feeling his hair tickle your neck, “this is how you take it right? No cream, no sugar.”
“Mhmmm,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a quick peck on the side of your neck before moving to grab the cup.
“Wow okay early bird Eddie,” Robin’s voice cuts through the air of the kitchen and he immediately grabs his coffee and moves away from you. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice and the two of you cringe at the somewhat compromising position.
“Okay I don’t think I want to know what the hell that was about,” she points between the two of you. Ahh Robin, master of the art of subtlety.
Steve comes into the kitchen, immediately sensing the awkward air between everyone in the small space.
“Oh god,” he looks from Robin’s pointing finger to the two of you with somewhat guilty expressions, “was THAT all that noise I heard last night? Jesus Christ you two.” He turns out of the kitchen dramatically, leaving Robin with a bewildered expression and the two of you cringing.
“At least they’re fucking instead of fighting now!” she calls to him as he continues to walk down the hall away from you.
Amongst Robin yelling and Steve leaving in a huff, Eddie manages to sneak his hand behind you and pinch your ass, making you jump a bit and the coffee in your cup to slosh around. He gives you a wink and starts to head out of the kitchen.
“I’m gonna have my coffee by the lake, you joining me?”
Maybe this trip was going to be something special after all.
All Eddie Fics Taglist: @eddielives1986
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#smut#smut fanfiction
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!
Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.
He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.
What Duke gets instead isn’t even words.
Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.
“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”
He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.
“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,
Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”
Jason looks him over critically, then nods.
Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing.
This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.
He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.
For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.
He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.
And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.
Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white.
Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.
Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.
Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws.
The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all.
The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope.
“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.
Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.
“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”
Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”
“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”
“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”
“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.
“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”
Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”
Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room.
“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”
Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others.
Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.
Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape.
Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.
The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic.
His left hipbone burns.
Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.
The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.
And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.
“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.
“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”
The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”
“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”
“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”
The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room.
“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.
He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.
“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”
“You—what?”
“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.
Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”
In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances.
“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”
“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”
Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”
“And you dreamed of me.”
“I did.”
“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”
“Okay.”
“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”
“I’ll help,” Phantom says.
“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”
“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”
Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”
“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”
“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”
“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”
There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.
Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.
“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”
“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”
“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”
Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”
“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again.
“Let’s go find them, then!”
They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together.
The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now.
He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dc x dp fic#prompt fill#my writing#when its the end of the world but youre soulmate is here and ready to help fix it#meanwhile constantine had gone ON and ON about how dangerous summoning realms beings are#and all the precautions they have to take and how to be specific when making deals etc etc#it was supposed to be only the justice league but with the world ending they wanted their proteges and allies with them in case things#went wrong w the summoning. and with the rest of the bats helping out in gotham and around the east coast#signal gets to join batman. plus hes got his meta powers that could help in the worst case scenario#NO ONE predicated signal and the GHOST KING being SOULMATES#batman leaves for gotham immediately. updates the rest of the team w 'ghost king successfully summoned. he's signal's soulmate.'#and does not respond to ANYONE after dropping that bomb on them lol#they do all get to meet phantom when they join forces to find whatever doomsday cult caused all this#and the world gets saved!!#also. semi related to all this. the speedesters are gone bc time went wacky and they tried to fix things. but then the speedforce kinda#came to life and trapped them. so they have been lowkey eaten by the speedforce bc the speedforce is the true eldritch monstrosity here#anyways. thanks for the prompt!!#working on ur other two prompts now :)
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Type of BF/GF Cod Characters Would Be (Scenario)
You know, like that one thing circling around TikTok
Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.
And yes I'm aware that some have repeated characters, some fit more than one
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
A/n: I'm honestly on a roll and I've had my morning coffee so I'll start cracking, I have been trying to post more recently since it's October and I didn't really partake in the tober fests so I thought posting more might be good. Just me or are biker fucking hot? Yeah it's probs my thing for masked men.
Disclaimers/Warnings: OOC??
Doberman Boyfriend/Girlfriend whose first instinct was to protect you when you officially became theirs, initially they were always protective in subtle ways, subtle ways that also assert dominance over others. Little things like having a hand on your lower back or gently gripping your waist to move you. Their claimed spot is behind you, since they always find it to work when intimidating others and making sure no one even glances at you the wrong way. Might seem like they're intimidating but to you it's a different story, they're sweeter, more docile? Just far more affectionate and you basically have them wrapped around your finger. Switches in the bedroom but dom leaning, can be subs if you want them to be.
Characters: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves.
Golden Retriever Boyfriend/Girlfriend who are so loyal to the bone, they're fun and oftentimes a little himbo-ish? Quality is the best spent with you, kind of follows you around all the time. They're very clingy but do respect your personal space if you aren't in the mood, though that's what you love about them isn't it? That's they're insistent and wouldn't give up on you no matter what. Also love doing things for you (acts of service) and lives for it when you praise them. Switches in the bedroom, sub leaning.
Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
Tabby cat Boyfriend/Girlfriend whose chill around others but absolutely craves your affection behind closed doors. The kind of people sometimes randomly show affection in front of others even if they HATE pda. The kind of people who have been traumatized yet still affectionate as can be, everyone loves them for being down to earth but they do have bit of an odd side that only you see. Is a hardcore switch, no leaning.
Characters: Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.
Black cat Boyfriend/Girlfriend who randomly bring home things that made them think of you, they knew you'd like it but only let out a subtle smirk. Lives for you being their adorable little sunshine, mean and cold towards other but less with you. Tried to give you tough love but eventually gave in because you are you. You know how cats sometimes bring you dead animals as a proof of affection and acceptance, they've done that... only with a human head of course. Providing for you and making sure you're taken care of is their love language, very protective and can really hurt people if they wanted to, someone hurts or upsets you? Their head will be displayed on your front porch. Hardcore doms in the bedroom. (Yandere AU anyone??)
Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves.
#cod x reader#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#rodolfo parra x reader#gary sanderson x reader#valeria garza x reader#farah karim x reader#kate laswell x reader#alex keller x reader#konig x reader#horangi x reader#keegan russ x reader#philip graves x reader#cod scenarios#call of duty fanfiction#cod mwf2#cod headcanons#nikolai belinski x reader#Aethelwyne Lia writes
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
adrenaline junkie
r loves to do dangerous things, relishing in the thrill, the rush of ecstasy that rushes through her. until her overprotective teammates find out about some of her hobbies. and then others find out. it doesn't go great.
disclaimer- as has been established, i do not have BDE, so i haven't ever ridden a motorcycle. or done like most of the things r does in this.
At first, it was only small things that the girls noticed. How you would climb up on stuff and jump off, prompting intense scoldings from your captains and the coaches. If this was any indication as to how they'd act if they learned about your... more intense hobbies, you were pretty determined not to let them find out.
There were different rules for professional athletes than people who's jobs didn't rely on their ability to walk. While it wasn't in your contract, you weren't supposed to do anything physically dangerous. No motorcycles, no skydiving, no cliff jumping, no zip lining, no swimming with sharks. It was all very discouraged.
You were an adult, though, a whole entire individual who could safely decide to do dangerous things for fun. Your teammates still thought of you as a kid, Alexia and Lucy especially. And sure, you were young, but completely capable of making rational decisions for yourself.
You'd had a couple close calls; as big of a city Barcelona was, your teammates all lived near you, and it only made sense that it was only a matter of time before you were caught. Your motorcycle was parked in the building's parking lot, but none of your teammates knew that it was yours when they came over. At least, not at first.
-----
You'd decided to use your bike one morning to go grab coffee. The place was too far to walk, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the fresh air. It was a few days into the holiday break, so you knew that a lot of your teammates would be out of Barcelona, at home with their families. This is why you didn't worry about going to the coffee shop that a lot of your teammates frequented. Which would turn out to be a mistake.
You'd had to circle the block the coffee shop was on before you could get a spot right in front. You pulled in, turning the engine off and taking off your helmet, leaving your jacket on. When you turned your attention to the coffee shop, or rather the little tables outside of it, you froze.
There, at one of the little tables with their coffees, sat Ingrid and Frido, jaws practically on the floor as they stared at you. Deciding to play it cool, hoping that if you acted like you hadn't done anything wrong, they'd be alright about it, you walked over to their table.
"Hey guys! I didn't know either of you were still in town." Ingrid was supposed to take Mapi with her to Norway, (Mapi had been complaining about the upcoming cold weather for weeks, but every time she even mentioned spending Christmas with Ingrid's family, she got this disgusting, love sick look on her face). Frido was also supposed to head home to Sweden.
Their only response was to gawk at you, stunned into silence.
"Guys?" You said, playfully waving a hand in front of their faces. This seemed to bring them out of their temporary stress-induced coma. Ingrid stood up, almost knocking the whole table over in the process.
"Are you CRAZY?" She shouted, hands flapping in the air as she spoke, gesturing wildly. Frido's mouth was opening and closing, as if she had so many things to yell, she couldn't settle on one.
"About...?" You said, looking between her and Frido, pretending that you didn't know very well what they were upset about.
"YOU KNOW WHAT ABOUT!" Ingrid yelled, pointing a finger insistently behind you.
"Ingrid, you're kind of making a scene." You mumbled, looking out of the corner of your eye at the pedestrians nearby staring at the Norwegian. She only scoffed in response, hands on her hips, waiting for you to explain yourself.
"You know who is going to make a scene? Alexia, when she finds out her perfect, precious, protégée rides motorcycles in her free time." Frido said finally. Your cool demeanor vanished.
"No, no, Frido you cannot tell her, she would kill me. Kill me dead. And if she didn't Lucy would. Actually, I'm pretty sure half of the team would kill me. Besides Pina. And Mapi."
Ingrid lets out an indignant noise. "Sell the motorcycle and we won't tell."
"You want me... to sell it? Come on, guys, it's not even that dangerous." You try, faltering when both girls rise to their feet again.
"NOT THAT DANGEROUS?" They shout together, and you throw your hands in the air, cutting them off before their lecture can really begin.
"Alright, alright, I'll sell it. You guys are boring. And you better not tell anyone about this. No one. Not even Mapi." You said, making them promise they wouldn't speak a word of it.
They insisted on driving home with you, following your bike in Ingrid's car. They honked whenever anyone came even close to you, and every time you caught a glimpse of them through their windows, Frido was staring at you like a cop tailing a murder suspect. At one point, you were going maybe 5 over the speed limit, and Frido stuck her head out the window, instructing you to slow down immediately.
If it wasn't so incredibly annoying, it probably would have been funny.
You parked the bike elsewhere, now, in case either of the Nordic girls decided to check and make sure the motorcycle was really gone.
-----
Mapi must have cracked Ingrid, you're sure of it. And you knew, too, that she only told Alexia on you because she was jealous that you had a motorcycle and she didn't. Of course, Ingrid thought you'd gotten rid of it. You hadn't. And Alexia, being Alexia, was suspicious enough to figure out that you still owned the motorcycle. She'd come over, accompanied by Lucy and Irene, completely unannounced. You'd let her in, somewhat confused. She snooped around without telling you what she was looking for, before triumphantly holding up the keys to your bike. They were hanging on the hook where they always were, but no one had ever thought to pay attention to them before.
Alexia yelled at you like she'd never yelled before, about the dangers of riding a motorcycle, about lying to her, about not listening when the older girls had tried to keep you safe. She was going on and on, and while Irene and Lucy had started off looking like they agreed with her, they were also definitely over the lecture after a few minutes.
You were in hot water with Alexia as soon as the words left your mouth; you weren't stupid, you knew how she would react to what you had just said, but you had always been hotheaded and her hovering and nagging had gotten to you today.
"You don't need to know about everything in my life, Alexia! I've gone skydiving, and I haven't died. I swam with sharks, and didn't die. Cliff jumping? Zip lining? Bungee jumping? Drag racing? I have done all of that, all since I've been with this team, and I am completely fine. You aren't my mother, and I don't need you to act like you are. I don't need your opinion on everything I do, I don't need you watching my every move. I can do what I want." You snapped. Alexia took a step back from where she'd been standing, a look of hurt flashing across her face.
"Y/n, you're way out of line," Lucy said, looking angry again. Irene nodded her head in agreement.
"No, no. She's right. I'm not her mother. She can do what she wants." Alexia said softly. She dropped the keys onto the counter, and walked out your door without another word.
You were flooded with guilt. Alexia had been more of a parent figure than anyone else in your life had ever bothered to be. You were grateful for it, you really were. She was part of the reason you were the person you were today, having spent the last of your teenage years on the team with her. She'd always watched out for you, always took the time to make sure you were okay. She'd expressed to you, before, her worry that she was overstepping, doing more than you wanted her to do. You'd thrown that right back in her face.
"You need to apologize. That wasn't fair of you." Irene said coldly.
"I just-"
"-No. You and I both know everything that Alexia has done for you, gone out of her way to do for you. She loves and cares about you, obviously you doing stupid and dangerous things is going to bother her." Irene's voice was deadly serious, arms crossed over her chest as she stared you down.
"When you moved here from England, do you know that Alexia called Leah, and talked to her for hours trying to get to know you, and make the transition as easy as possible?" Lucy cut in.
"When you got that concussion last season and you were in the hospital, she sat awake, all night, next to your bed, too worried to rest." Irene continued.
"She has an England shirt with your name on it that she wears to watch you play, did you know that? No one is allowed to see her in it, but she doesn't miss any of your games for England. Not one."
"Your first Christmas here, she went all out with Christmas decorations. You were living with her then, and she wanted the day to be special, even if it wasn't the way she normally did it."
They were switching off, seemingly having endless examples of all the things Alexia had done for you. You were blinking, hard, memories of how easy Alexia had made everything for you flashing through your mind. Lucy spoke more gently.
"You were 16 when you got here, y/n. She has done more for you than anyone. You're her kid whether you like it or not. It doesn't matter that you're 19 now, it doesn't matter that you don't live with her anymore."
"She deserves better than you lying to her about your dangerous hobbies, and she deserves better than how you just treated her. Fix it." Irene finished, tone still just as cold as it had been. She was, herself, rather protective of Alexia, you knew. Her reaction was completely warranted, you knew that too.
Irene turned then too, walking out your door and shutting it behind her. Only Lucy remained, staring at you critically.
"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings." You said weakly.
"I know. You did, though."
"I don't know why I said any of that, I was just annoyed."
"You're young, it's a young person thing to not think before you speak. You do it all the time, normally it doesn't end as poorly as this did." Lucy tried to joke, hating the sad frown on your face, even if you probably deserved it. You just shook your head, looking up at her as a single tear fell down your cheek.
"What do I do, Luce?"
"Give it a couple hours, and then go apologize. And sell the damn motorcycle. Or I'll remove the engine or something." At this, you did smile, if only weakly. "C'mere," she said gruffly, pulling you into a tight hug. "It'll be fine, kid. Alexia would forgive you for anything."
You hoped she was right.
-----
You stood at Alexia's door, about a half hour later. You'd meant to wait as long as Lucy had said, but you couldn't do it. You were fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for her to answer, not really sure what would greet you.
You'd seen Alexia mad, obviously. And you'd seen her sad, though less often. But you'd never seen her sad because of something you'd done. It made you feel sick, that you'd repaid her years of kindness with rude comments that completely disregarded how much she had done for you, because you were slightly annoyed with her behavior. If she was sad, you weren't sure how you could fix it.
When she answered the door, you were stunned, stunned, to see Alexia's eyes slightly red and puffy, like she'd been crying.
"Hola pequeña," she said roughly, wiping at her face as if to rid it of the evidence as to how upset she was.
"Can I come in?" You asked.
"Of course," she said, stepping to the side immediately to let you in. She led you to the living room, and you both took seats on the couch. The Alexia sitting next to you was not one you were used to seeing; you could tell how hurt she was by what you said. You could also tell she was trying to pretend she wasn't hurt, whether because she didn't want to make you feel bad, or because she was embarrassed at the obvious and uncharacteristic display of emotion. You chewed on your lip for a minute, trying to figure out how to apologize.
"Ale, I'm so sorry," you began.
"It's fine," she said, brushing your apology off. She tried to smile at you, but it was weak, and it didn't reach her eyes. It was going to be hard for you to get out what you needed to say, you knew. You weren't good at expressing your emotions, and you'd never really admitted to Alexia what an important role she had played in your life. You tried to show her through actions, but your words earlier had undone anything you'd accomplished in terms of letting her know how much you appreciated her.
"No, it's not fine. I was completely unfair to you. I didn't mean what I said, not at all. I... you've been... for me..." You trailed off, words getting jumbled. "I don't know why this is so hard for me to say."
"It's alright, pequeña, I get it," Alexia said, and she did sound less upset, like she knew what you were trying to say.
"I'm not used to having people in my life that care. I mean, I am now, because I have you and the team, but it still surprises me sometimes when I do something, and people... people care about what happens to me. You've always cared, though. Even when I was an angsty 16 year old with an attitude problem, and I didn't want you to care, you did anyway."
You take a big breath, trying to steady your voice. "You've been more of a parent to me than anyone. I value your opinion, I really appreciate that you care enough to be mad at me when I do something stupid. I'm sorry I said otherwise, because that wasn't true. I was just frustrated, but you deserve better than that. I'm really sorry about what I said, and I'm sorry that I don't express how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."
You take a peak at Alexia once you've finished talking, and find her looking out the window, jaw set tightly. At first, you think she's upset about something that you said. You see her lip wobble slightly, though, before she bites down on it, and realize what's actually going on. Your captain schools her features, before turning to you.
"Thank you for apologizing. I... I was hurt by what you said. I can't help but worry about you, and I know I probably go overboard with it sometimes, but I look at you and see the scared 16 year old you were when you got here, and all I want to do is protect you."
Alexia shuffled closer to you on the couch. "And I know you appreciate me, pequeña. You might not say it, but you show it. You don't need to thank me for caring about you, though. You shouldn't ever feel like you have to thank anyone for that. You deserve love, pequeña, I hope you know that."
You fall somewhat unsteadily into her arms, which wrap around you in a comforting embrace. You blink your tears away, wondering how your apology to Alexia turned into her comforting you, but that was the magic of Alexia Putellas.
"Y/n?” She says, chin resting on top of your head.
"Yeah?"
"Did you really do all those things you said you did?" She sounds slightly ill at the idea, and you wince, wishing you hadn't overshared all of those details.
"Yeah," you answer meekly.
"Dios mio," she mumbles.
"I'll sell the motorcycle," you say placatingly. Alexia lets out a short laugh at that, pulling back from you to look you in the eye.
"I know you will. You aren't ever riding that thing again."
"Well..." You said, unable to stop yourself from glancing towards where you had parked said motorcycle.
"You did not... drive it here... to apologize to me..." Alexia choked out, baffled.
"I did," she groans in exasperation. "But only because I'm taking it back to the dealership right after this. I called, they're gonna buy it back off me." You smile sheepishly at her.
She glares at you. "You better be telling the truth."
"I am, Ale, I promise." You rise, heading back towards the door.
"Good. Off you go, then. Get rid of that deathtrap. And wear your helmet. And drive under the speed limit. And stick to side streets, not busy ones. And-"
"-Alexia, I've been riding it for a year, I'll be fine." You say, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The blonde looks genuinely anxious at the idea of you driving off on it. "I promise, the dealership isn't far from here, and I'll text you once I'm back home."
She nods, looking at the motorcycle parked outside with an expression full of disdain. "Drive safe," she says finally, and you promise that you will.
-----
You did drive safe. It wasn't your fault that someone ran a red light, or that it just happened to occur right as you were in the middle of the intersection. It wasn't your fault that the car practically t-boned you, the last minute braking doing very little to ease the impact. It wasn't your fault that you were thrown off the bike, sliding and rolling painfully along the pavement until you came to a stop several feet away.
It wasn't your fault.
Still, as you looked up at the sky, feeling yourself begin to lose consciousness, you knew that the fact that it wasn't your fault would not get you out of trouble with Alexia. She couldn't kill you if you were already dead, though, you thought. That was horrifying, and you jerked your eyes back open, trying to stay awake. It was no use, though, and your eyes closed against your will, head rolling weakly to the side on the concrete as spots flooded your vision, until everything around you was dark and quiet.
-----
HA.
part 2 tomorrow :)
866 notes
·
View notes
Text
⚣ Five & One 💪🏻
⚣💪🏻 A/N → This is a re-post and, once again, it was inspired by this post by @gone-batty-fics. I'm leaving the full NSFW version up here since it's not that much, so no need for an extra link. I hope you guys enjoy reading this around a second time and sorry if any of you have been missing it. This was my most popular post on my previous account and I'm sad I gotta start it over, but oh well.
WARNINGS: Breathplay/Choking, Implied Size Kink, Jealous and Possessive Behavior, Rough Anal, Violence, etc.
⚣💪🏻 Summary → Five times people thought you needed rescuing from your boyfriend, Jason Todd. And the one time, someone needed rescuing from you.
⚣💪🏻 Words → 7.8k
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
Also, vote in my Omegaverse/Yandere poll here!
⚣ ENJOY 💪🏻
Okay, you got it.
Your boyfriend was a very intimidating and scary guy when he wanted to be. But, that didn’t mean people had to keep asking you if you needed saving like you were some damsel in distress. You weren’t even a damsel! You were a damsmen. Damsman? A Damson?
Oh, forget it. Point still stands, people needed to stop treating you like you needed rescuing. You were fine! Besides, when he wasn’t out hunting criminals, Jason was literally the least threatening person in the world. It was you bitches should be worried about! And if bitches didn’t believe you, bitches could just find out on their own.
Bitch.
The first time wasn’t bad. You considered it actually sweet and could see how under the circumstances someone was not aware of the dynamic between you and the vigilante.
It was a sunny day in Gotham for once. Everyone was out, enjoying the sunshine while having barbecues in the parks, strolling down the street in sunhats and sandals, and going swimming at the local pools. You were no different, seeing the usual moody and depressing atmosphere absent from the sky and deciding immediately to take advantage of it and drag your boyfriend Jason out, making the whole day a date between you two.
You and Jason decided on simple outfits since the sun was out and the temperatures were warmer than usual. You decided on a regular button-up, leaving the top three buttons down to show some skin, which your boyfriend both loved and hated since he could ogle your chest with no shame, but anyone else could do the same. You paired it with some boat shoes and simple shorts that did an excellent job hugging your ‘boo-twah,’ a nickname Jason gave your ass for its large-hand-friendly size, as he liked to say.
“Instead of like boo-tee, it’s boo-TWAH. It’s just out there.” He explained one morning when you had spent the night at his place. Jason, sitting and ogling at his boyfriend in his well-fitted yoga pants and sleeveless hoodie while you made breakfast.
“You are such a nerd.” You laughed at him.
“Well, this nerd scored big,” He responded before landing a heavy smack on your behind, which you chastised him for since he made you almost fling the eggs you were scrambling out of the pan.
Back to the sunny day, Jason dressed simply too but was more relaxed than you. He went for a comfortable pair of joggers, one of his nicer gym shoes, and a tank top covered by a sleeveless hoodie since he got hot easily.
A few months after you and Jason got together, he told you about his double life and his family’s. It explained why when he would spend the night at your house a few times, you’d play doctor while wondering where he was getting all these bruises and wounds. As you and Jason grew closer and began to explore your ‘interest’ in each other’s bodies, you’d find he was actually shy about his body even though the man was built like a tank.
It wasn’t necessarily his body he was ashamed of. It was his scars he actually didn’t like. All things he saw as painful reminders of his more than rough past, especially the bigger ones he had received from Joker. You were patient with him and reminded him at every possible chance that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of. Instead, they were to be celebrated and seen as trophies. Reminders that in the face of everything thrown at him, he came out on top stronger than ever.
Over time, Jason became more confident and comfortable in his body. He bought more shirts, tank tops, and shorts that showed his arms, chest, and legs. Even going as far as cutting the sleeves off some of his hoodies since you owned many pairs, and he loved how they looked on you. He’d prefer to wear yours, but since you were much smaller than him, he’d end up stretching or ripping them. Now, you were no dainty stick or anything like that. You had some meat on your bones and were taller than the average guy. But again, Jason is built like a tank and very much dwarfed you in size.
You weren’t complaining.
He also loved the benefit of the sleeveless hoodies as they made him look more intimidating, which helped whenever he noticed other guys and girls at the gym ogling you a little too long for his liking. He didn’t care who it was, Jason would always look out for and protect you.
Yet, others seemed to see it differently as you walked down the street in Gotham, going in and out of the various stores. You were both sipping on some slushies while chatting about whatever, Jason holding your shopping bags in one hand. You tried to snatch the bags from him multiple times since you didn’t want to feel like Jason was your butler or servant. Besides, you worked out too. Look at your arms! You could carry Jason if you wanted to.
Okay, yes, you knew that was a lie but you were allowed to dream. You’d get there…someday.
“Jason, give me my bag. I can carry it myself!” You said, trying to reach for the bag again.
“Sorry, Bugs, you know the rules. You’re not allowed to carry anything in my presence. Well, except my love for you. That’s heavy enough as it is.” Jason said with a cheeky smile.
You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s corny behavior and another one of his nicknames for you. You’d made the mistake of bringing Jason around your best friend during a study session for one of your classes. He revealed your childhood obsession with Looney Tunes and how many times when you reacted to a situation, you were a carbon copy of Bugs Bunny with his sarcasm and behavior.
“Get away from me dude,” You said, putting distance between yourself and the brick wall of a man.
“Ah, get back here.”
Jason grabbed you by your waist and pulled you to his side, nuzzling his face into your neck while tickling your sides.
“Jason, stop!” You shouted in laughter, trying to push him away.
“Never! You are now my hostage.” He joked back with you.
You stood there for a few more seconds wrestling with each other on the sidewalk. Someone should really scold you two for acting so cutesy and loving out and public like that. WE GET IT! You’re in love! Stop rubbing it in our faces.
When you broke apart, you found yourselves outside a bookstore. You saw Jason’s eyes light up even if his face didn’t show it. He turned towards you, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes and pout.
“Oh, get in there you dork. But, don’t max out your dad’s credit card!” You said, successfully pushing him off you.
He leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips before shooting into the store like the Flash. “No promises!” He yelled over his shoulder.
While he was in the store living out his childhood fantasy, you decided to let your ankles rest since you had been on them for a few hours. Jason offered to carry you at one point, and though it was tempting, you declined.
You sat on a nearby bench while scrolling on your phone for a bit. Your head shot up when you spotted someone approaching you from the street. It was two girls, both who looked to be in their late 20s to early 30s, carrying concerned looks on their faces.
“Hi!” You spoke with a smile, waving to the women walking up to you.
“Hey, are you okay?” One of them asked when they got to you.
Now, you had a confused expression on yours.
“I’m sorry?” You responded with a puzzled eyebrow raised.
“We were across the street when we saw that guy grabbing you. We can walk with you to the police station if he’s harassing you.” The other woman said.
‘Were these chicks on crack?’ You thought.
“Um, I think there’s been some confusion–” You started but was interrupted by the door swinging open, an excited Jason springing out of the store.
“BABE! THEY’VE GOT A MINT-CONDITIONED PRIDE & PREJUDICE! Can I get it?! Please!!!” Jason shouted while running up to you and grabbing you by your arms.
You could barely keep off the amused smile on your face while looking around your boyfriend’s shoulder to see the two girls looking shocked and embarrassed by your giant for a boyfriend, begging you for a book like a kid.
Jason turned around as well, seeing the two women staring at you two while he just pulled you closer to his body, wrapping his arms around you.
“Who are your friends, Bugs?”
“Just some nice girls being friendly,” You answered before using your hand to turn Jason’s head back toward you. “Don’t you already have three copies at home, Jason? Why do you need another?”
“Okay, but those are all old copies and are falling apart. This one is BRAND NEW! Never been opened. Please!!!”
You could only sigh at his antics before turning back to the girls, “I’m fine, ladies. But, thank you for asking.”
They both nodded with embarrassment before walking off down the street, Jason watching them with a confused expression before looking down at you.
“What was that about?”
“Don’t worry about it.
This one also wasn’t so bad, but it was still annoying.
Your parents were out of town for a month for their anniversary, so you invited Jason over. When he got there and saw how your cupboards and fridge were damn near empty, he was upset at you for not telling him you had no food and your parents for not supplying you with anything.
Truth be told, they literally just forgot to go before they left. Jason always wondered where you got your forgetfulness from. Now, he knew.
So, he dragged you to your local wholesale store once again with his adoptive father’s credit card to stock and load your cabinets so you wouldn’t go hungry. Well, really so, Jason wouldn’t go hungry since he would be spending a lot of time at your place now. Again, the man was like a mountain, so of course, he ate like one.
You had been in the store for about 15 minutes, and already your cart was damn near half-full.
“Jay, don’t you think this is enough? We don’t have to get a bunch of stuff today.” You voiced, eyeing the growing basket with concern.
“Bugs, you can’t stay in your house for a month and not have any food. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you go hungry?” He responded while grabbing four boxes of your favorite cereal brands off the shelf and placing them neatly in the basket.
If it’s one thing that shocked you to learn about Jason was that he was very clean and organized with anything. You expected that trait more out of his brothers like Tim or Damian. But in truth, Tim was more of an organized chaos type of guy, and Damian was very simplistic, so he didn’t really need to organize much, except for his drawings and paintings, which he sometimes left scattered all over his desk.
Dick was a mess that couldn’t be saved. God bless the soul that ended up with that man.
But Jason was the cleanest out of all of them. The man could barely go two days without scrubbing down or re-organizing something. Again, you weren’t complaining. Every time he came over, he’d clean your room without you even asking.
“Okay, but my parents did leave me money to order out. Plus, I don’t want Bruce thinking I’m using you for money, or anything like that, especially since you keep taking his credit card.” You pointed out to which your boyfriend scoffed in response.
“Please, as much as that man has put me through, maxing out his credit card is the last thing he’s worried about me doing. And don’t worry, he and the rest of the family love you. Honestly, if it wasn’t for you dating me and the fact that you have great parents, I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man didn’t try to adopt you, which, if I haven’t mentioned this already, I don’t recommend.” He finished while heading further down the breakfast food aisle and grabbing boxes of Pop-Tarts.
“Fourth time.” You stated. Jason does not hold back regarding his tense relationship with his adoptive parent.
That was something you’d also been watching him work on.
When Jason met your parents and saw the relationship between your father and you, it opened up an emotional wound he wasn’t prepared for. And though he still had some resentment toward the Billionaire Playboy, aka the Dark Knight, for not sending Joker to the seventh ring of hell after his death, it didn’t mean he didn’t still care for and love the man. He just had mental blocks he needed to work through, and you’d be there to support him.
Jason was about to give you one of his dorky responses until he realized he forgot the credit card in your car.
“Shoot, I forgot the card in the car. Where’re your keys?” He asked.
You handed them to him, and he gave you a quick kiss and a slap on the ass with a warning to not put anything back before rushing towards the entrance/exit of the store. Rolling your eyes, you moved down the aisle scoffing at his warning. Of course, he knew you were going to try and put some of the items back. Just like you knew him better than himself sometimes, it was the same for him with you. He could predict your next move before it popped into your head which you found very cute but extremely annoying at times.
While you stood there for a few moments scrolling on your phone out of boredom, you heard a voice speak up behind you.
“Excuse me.”
You turned around to see two guys around your age standing behind you. You figured they were trying to get to something behind you, so you moved yourself and your cart out of the way.
“Oh, my bad. Here ya go.”
“No, no! Not that. We were just wondering if you needed help getting your car or getting away from that guy. We saw him drag you in here.”
You barely held back the eye roll that was itching in your skull. Yes, Jason did somewhat have to drag you into the store since you insisted that you didn’t need to go grocery shopping. But, what happened to common sense? If Jason truly was holding you hostage or had bad intentions for you, why in the world would he bring you to a grocery store out of all places?!
Seriously, what were they thinking? That he was going to stick a Fruit-Loops box over your head and torture you with your most hated juice flavor?
A small sigh escaped your mouth before you responded to the boys, “Okay, this is not what it looks like. That guy is my boyfriend, and we’re just grocery shopping. I promise I’m fine.” You assured the guys.
“Are you sure? He isn’t forcing you to say any of this, right? I know that guy’s intimidating, but we can call security or the police to help you.”
Before you could respond, you both heard the sounds of quick footsteps approaching from around the corner. You turned to see him holding a plate with two large slices of pepperoni pizza and a large orange soda.
“Babe, I got you two slices of pizza and your favorite soda from the food court. I know you haven’t eaten today, so I figured you could snack on this, and then we can get you some chicken tenders and fries from your favorite restaurant after we leave here.” He offered while handing you the plate, looking at you with the most adoring gaze.
This boy really did have your whole heart. You could only wonder what you did to deserve someone like him.
When Jason took note of the two other guys standing by you looking dumbfounded, his arm instantly found its way around your waist, pulling you into his side while eyeing the two boys suspiciously and on guard. Anyone that wasn’t your parents, best friend, or his family, Jason saw as a potential threat. Even his family sometimes was included in that list a few times, and living in Gotham, you could never be too careful.
And any excuse for Jason to show you as his to anyone else watching was always an appreciated opportunity.
“Can I help you, fellas?” Jason said, a stern tone in his voice while eyeing the two down with every menacing look he could muster in his eyes.
You’ve never seen two guys who looked like they wanted to shit their pants so bad and run in the opposite direction. They started stuttering out a response before you took pity on them.
“They’re fine, Jay. They were just trying to grab some cereal behind me. I was just moving out of their way.” You threw a look toward the boys, who looked at you confused before they caught on to what you were trying to say.
“Y-Yeah m-man. Just ... um gra-grabbing some Frosted flakes.” One of the dudes said, pointing his fingers toward the boxes right behind you.
Jason eyed that finger with malice before he felt your fingers turning his face toward you.
“Hey, stop it. I’m good. Now, are you going to let them get their cereal and let me eat my pizza before it gets cold?”
A small smile crossed his face while he backed you both up moving the cart as well. You ruffled his hair watching the two boys grab a box and run down the aisle with their tails between their legs. He let out his usual whine, using his other arm to fix his hair.
“Shut up, you big baby. You promised me chicken tenders and fries, so get a move on before I get a food attitude.”
Jason smirked at your words before the hand around your waist moved to your butt, palming and squeezing your cheeks under the ‘hoochie’ shorts you were wearing.
“I know something better that’ll fill you up and take care of that attitude for you.” He whispered in your ear before giving a nip.
At least you weren’t in front of the salads when this was happening.
This wasn’t bad. It was actually funny, and you got a friend out of it.
You and Jason were at the gym, getting a workout in. You decided you both liked going in the afternoon when it was less busy. It was leg and glutes day for you (per usual) while Jason was working chest and shoulders.
Two of your favorite body parts on him, including his arms, but that’s not important.
Now, you both agreed when you went to the gym that you would do your workouts separately but your warm-ups and cardio together. So, at some point, Jason was on the Smith machine doing a shoulder bench press while you were on another bench doing Bulgarian split squats.
Of course, the gym was a place where people met each other all the time. And, in many of those meetings and interactions, people would find others attractive and want to date or hook up with them. You were no exception to these rules. You were approached many times by both girls and guys, but you always politely declined. Well, you tried at least before Jason walked over and made it clear who you were with.
It was no secret to anyone that Jason did not only get easily jealous at the thought of you giving your attention and time away to someone who was not him, but he was also the living definition of anger issues. Match that with his very selfish and possessive attitude towards you, and you had a man ready and WILLING to do just about anything to anyone who dared lay a finger on you in the wrong way.
So, whenever someone deemed themselves stupid brave enough to approach you and flirt a little or leave a teasing touch to one of your arms, you’d try to give them a warning but it was always too late. They’d quickly find a towering shadow looming over them and turned to see a less than pleased Jason staring down at them with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. These being one of the few moments Jason gladly showed off his scars because they communicated his message quickly and effectively.
Back. The. Fuck. Off.
That was usually enough to get them to do just that. Most of the time, at least.
There always ended up being at least one guy or girl who wouldn’t take no for an answer. This time, it was a guy who kept finding himself next to you during your sets. Jason was watching you from afar with hooded and irritated eyes as he also noticed your gym shadow moving around with you.
The guy decided to play smart and keep his hands off you since he could tell your brute of a boyfriend was watching his every move. The only reason he didn’t do anything was because he knew if he did, the guy could claim Jason as the aggressor, and since this was your favorite gym because your college’s gym was always crowded, he didn’t want to risk you getting in trouble and banned.
So, when Jason went to the bathroom, the creep took advantage of the moment and offered to ‘spot’ you on your set of squats with the smith machine, which you were sure was just an excuse for him to get behind you so he could ogle your ass and ‘accidentally’ grind his dirty crotch into it.
Luckily, a girl working out nearby noticed your uncomfortable stance when the man came over to ‘help’ you while you were setting up and immediately stopped her workout to shoo him away.
“Dude, he’s clearly not interested. So either go and finish your workout or pack up and get out!”
He tried to get defensive and argue with her, but when she revealed her boyfriend was one of the owners and threatened to have him kicked out and banned, he finally backed off. He made sure to point out how you weren’t even all the hot anyway to mask his hurt pride while you threw an appreciative look toward her.
When he left and Jason returned from the bathroom, the girl unleashed her rage on him as well.
“And you too! I’ve seen you harassing and stalking him all over the gym. I’ll kick your ass out too and have you banned if you don’t leave him alone.” She scolded the dark-haired man.
Jason looked confused while you just laughed before grabbing his arm and pulling him to you, “Nah, don’t worry about him. This one’s good.” You said, reaching up to ruffle his hair, even though you had to stretch a little bit.
Jason pouted down at you in childish anger, “I told you don’t do that! Do you know how long it takes to get this in the right floppy position?” He whined while trying to fix his hair.
She looked back and forth between you two before realization dawned upon her.
“Boyfriend who’s a menace to everyone but is a total baby when around you?”
You gasped, “Girl, how’d you know?”
“Mine’s the exact same.”
“Oh, we’re gonna be great friends.” You declared.
Okay, this time, it was lowkey your fault, but still. People should be able to tell the difference between an actual cry for help and a joke.
Jason decided to take you to one of his favorite cafes in Gotham since you were in desperate need of a study break. You picked up some classes over the summer, so the schedule was much more tightly packed since they had to speed up a four-month course into two with the semester being divided into two sections.
Jason was sitting on one of the lounge chairs reading while you were sipping on some apple juice and reading a fanfic story on your phone. Whether or not it was smut was not important and nobody would be able to tell by the look on your face. At least until you read over one particular part that had you gasping out loud which managed to catch your boyfriend’s attention.
“What?”
“Nothing.” You quickly said, liking the fic quickly and closing the browser, knowing Jason was not going to drop it.
“Uh uh, Bugs. What were you looking at?” He asked, setting his book on the table and moving over to your side of the table.
“Nothing Jay! I promise it was nothing.”
“Oh really? So you wouldn’t mind if I looked at your phone then?”
You felt your cheeks heat up while Jason took notice of your tense stance, peering at you and your phone while slowly leaning toward you from his crouched stance.
“Let me see your phone.”
“No.”
“Give me your phone.”
“I said no.”
“Bugs,” Jason said, now mocking a stern look on his face, “Give. Me. Your. Phone.”
He held out his hand for emphasis, and you felt your fingers reflexively tighten around your smart device. You stared back at him with your own dour expression, “No. Means. No.”
You both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he suddenly grabbed at your phone, attempting to snatch it from your hand. It became a tug-of-war over the device while you both consciously tried not to be too much of a disturbance to the other patrons of the cafe.
This is where it accidentally was your fault.
“Help! Assault! Violence! Thief!”
You thought you were shouting it quietly, but there was a reason your family always told you to quiet down when you thought you were speaking at a normal volume. You got it from your mother really. Strong voices and all…
“Dude, fucking back off!”
You both heard the deep voice shout before you watched a guy tackle Jason to the ground, feeling hands coming to your side.
“Oh my god, are you okay?!” This random brunette said while checking you over to make sure you weren’t hurt.
You were FINE. However, you were worried as hell now. Not for Jason at all, cause… Well, ya know.
You were scared for the other guy that had tackled Jason. Your boyfriend did NOT do well with physical touch, considering how long it took him to get comfortable with just cuddling with you. Let alone sudden physical touch? And the man is used to fighting criminals at night and having to be on guard 24/7 if he feels something suddenly grab or touch him? Yeah, you were hoping this didn’t end in a trip to the precinct like last time.
Don’t ask.
“I’m fine. But, I do suggest you quickly get your friend off my boyfriend before he has to go to the hospital.” You assured the girl while warning her at the same time.
She looked at you confused, “Boyfriend? Wait, huh? We thought that guy was attacking you and trying to steal your phone. And don’t worry, my boyfriend’s a professional kickboxer. He can handle him.”
‘Yeah. Mine has anger issues and was trained by Batman and can re-load two guns in under twenty seconds with his arms tied behind his back.’
“AH!”
You both turned your heads to see Jason holding the other guy in a chokehold while looking up at you.
“Aww, man! He spilled my coffee over my book.” Jason whined, “Babe, can you get me another one, please?”
“Yes, Jason. Can you do me a favor and let him go before you break his neck?”
Jason rolled his eyes before releasing the guy, who went into a coughing fit on the ground as he caught his breath.
When he sat back at the table as the girl went to help her boyfriend off the floor after giving you both weird looks, he set your phone on the surface, eyeing you with a quizzical look.
“What?” You asked after he stared at you for a few more minutes.
“Really? Yandere?”
Your heart jumped in your chest, and you were ready to bolt for the door.
“So, all those times you swore you weren’t trying to make me jealous just to get a reaction outta me, were you actually just trying to get me to tie you up and lock you in my room?” He said with a dark look in his eyes and a cheeky smirk on his lips.
HOT BOY DOWN! I REPEAT, HOT BOY DOWN!
Now, this was just ridiculous. Of course, it made sense, but you were thoroughly pissed off when it happened.
You and Jason had returned to his apartment after having dinner with his family at Wayne Manor. Bruce decided he wanted to have at least one family dinner a month, and since you were considered an honorary Wayne and everyone loved you, of course, you were invited. Jason, on the other hand, was still hesitant.
Even though he was working on his relationship with Bruce and trying to move past his mental scars, his family still brought up some sensitive subjects for him. Typically, they made his insecurities flare up a lot more. You were Jason’s safe space. So, he wasn’t really keen on mixing the things that made him question himself and the person who made him feel the most loved and secure together.
You didn’t push, still wanting to go at his pace and let him bring you around more when he was ready. The day of the dinner, you figured he either had a change of heart or somebody had talked to Jason and convinced him to bring you along, and you had a great time. Jason was a bit quiet throughout the evening, but you could see a small part of him was happy at seeing how you integrated well into his family dynamic. He took great pleasure in how you humbled Dick a few times as well.
But, something was off, but you couldn’t tell what it was. You knew Jason was usually the quieter one out of the rest of his siblings. When you were around, he showed more of his goofiness and playful side. You barely saw that at all tonight. You knew he was watching you as you made conversation with Bruce, argued back and forth with Damian, repeatedly told Tim he needed to get more sleep, snapped photos with Steph, joked with Duke, and even learned a little sign language from Cass.
He watched as you offered to help Alfred with the dishes, who respectfully declined, but did make his appreciation known to you and the others, especially Tim.
“I offer to help you sometimes, Alfred!” Tim shouted while chasing after the butler offering his help.
Usually, Jason would laugh at any moment that came at the expense of Tim’s sanity.
None of that happened.
So, when you got back to his place, you asked him what was wrong. He remained silent as he just looked at you, but you could see there was a storm behind his eyes. When you came up to rub his arm and hug him, his hands shot up to your neck, wrapping around it firmly but not tight to where you couldn’t breathe.
Your hands grabbed his wrists as he maneuvered you against the wall that connected the living room to the kitchen. He placed his lips roughly on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth while never loosening his hold on your neck.
“Mine. Not theirs, mine.” He muttered against your lips before quickly taking his hands off your neck, ripping your clothes off while ridding himself of his.
In less than two minutes, Jason had you pressed back against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, and his long and girthy member tucked deep inside your ass, fucking you with hard and menacing thrusts. His large and rough hands were back around your neck, now squeezing around your neck as you moaned breathlessly against him.
Jason took immense pride in your sounds of satisfaction and whining, increasing his already brutal pace in your guts while slowly stealing more of your breath away.
Jason’s hard breaths pounded against your face as he stared at your now sweaty and ragged body, limping weakly against him. You placed your arms on his shoulder but were careful to avoid his neck, knowing that along with some other areas on his body were off-limits unless specified otherwise.
This was the dynamic between you two always. Anyone could see how Jason was wrapped around your finger in public and even in private whenever you two were just lounging around and relaxing. In these moments, you were fully under Jason’s authority. You lay completely at his mercy while he dominated your body and controlled where, when, and how you got pleasured.
The who rarely came into question as though your boyfriend had considered it a few times, you didn’t see a day likely where Jason’s jealousy and possessiveness would let him allow someone else to see you in this manner. No, you were for his eyes only.
And the why, well that was simple. Jason had needs, you had needs. And, no one was better suited to fulfill those needs than your boyfriend. Though with him, anything could spark those needs at any given time. Whether the dark-haired boy was just feeling horny and wanted some ass. You decided to wear a tempting outfit, and he decided he was going to right then and there he would have you, whether in the house, in the car, or in public, it didn’t matter. If he felt you were being a little too friendly with someone else, he’d be happy to remind you about who you belonged to. The why was simple; if Jason wanted you, he would have you. No ifs, and’s, or but’s about it.
“J-Jason... nngh p-please-” You begged, feeling yourself nearing the edge as your dick was crushed between Jason and your hot and sweaty abdomens.
“Say my name again,” He ordered, feeling how he flexed his dick inside you while still pounding your sore hole.
His name fell from your lips in a needy moan as you felt his fingers pressing against your windpipes. You could feel how the wall behind you became slick from your sweat as your body jutted up and down against it with Jason’s increasingly erratic thrusts.
He grunted in approval of your increasingly loud whines as you both approached your climaxes. Jason fully squeezed your neck at this point as he punched your insides with his cock. Your own member was feeling the pressures as well as it repeatedly smashed against Jason’s abs before you reached your end, screaming out in blissful agony.
Jason came to his finish with his own groan as you felt him bury himself with his cum deep inside you. You let out soft little whines feeling his appendage throb against your walls. Even though you knew he didn’t like hands around his neck, he didn’t object to you rubbing a hand down his nape. He gave you a warning glance at first, but when he felt your soft hands rubbing up and down his skin, he visibly relaxed, placing a kiss on your cheek.
The quiet and sweet moment though was abruptly ruined by the sound of Jason’s front door being kicked in and heavy boots rushing into his apartment.
“GOTHAM P.D.!” You heard the intruders shout.
Of all the fucking things…
Well, when the cops came around and found you and your naked boyfriend against the wall, and his hands around your neck, you had to admit it didn’t look good.
You had to quickly explain to the officers it wasn’t what it looked like and that everything was consensual. Against the orders of the cops, Jason did not move one inch off the wall, keeping your body covered with his. He’d sooner dip himself in another Lazarus Pit than let these arrogant blue caps have even the smallest peek at you.
So, with a little charm and finesse, you convinced the cops to walk out and let you and him get dressed. Jason couldn’t decide what he was more upset about.
The fact that his door was off its hinges, or that one of his neighbors called the cops on him thinking Jason had been abusing you, or that your private moment was intruded upon and some pervy cops basically saw you naked.
Yeah, he was going to be extra brutal on patrol tonight.
After a call was made to Commonionser Gordon at Jason’s request, the cops dropped everything and left you two alone when Gordon made it clear this was a bogus call. “Jason? Abusing Y/N? That boy is the biggest simp this city’s ever seen. Whoever called that in was obviously misinformed.”
Even if it was true, Jason didn’t appreciate being called a simp. He didn’t deny it, though.
You could barely hold back your laughs to which your boyfriend responded with a harsh smack to your very sore ass. It was a wonder how you were even standing on your legs as they still felt like jelly.
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t see him in that manner.”
“No way, he’s way too sweet and innocent to be like that.”
“Dude, have you met your own boyfriend?”
These were all things said to Jason when he would complain to them about how he was tired of everyone thinking he was a threat to you and not seeing the truth. If anything, you were more of a threat to Jason and honestly, should be placed on a national security watch list for some of the things that have come out of your mouth.
The only one who really knew and understood what Jason was talking about was your best friend, who was the first one to warn Jason. The boy didn’t believe him either at first and ended up finding out the hard way.
Well, it looked like Jason’s brothers were also about to find out as they had come to your school’s campus looking for him. You were happy to see the Wayne siblings, as some time had passed since the last dinner. For some reason, seeing how easily you interacted with his brothers drove up Jason’s jealousy to a new level. As soon as they showed up, Jason placed you on his lap, and you could feel his prominent bulge throbbing under you. You knew immediately you were in for it when you both got home.
When you got up to go to the bathroom, Jason was going to follow you, intending to give you a little preview of what to expect in the stalls, but was stopped by Dick, who said they had something important they needed to talk to him about.
Before that could happen, a new presence appeared at your table, and your best friend visibly and audibly groaned at who it was.
“Hi there.” Jason heard a sickly sweet voice say, turning to see another boy he’d heard of.
“Xavion.” Jason heard your best friend mutter under his breath.
He knew that name. He’d heard you curse it and mutter it in irritation and anger plenty of times. He purposefully went out of his way to piss you off and pick with you on multiple occasions. He also thought that because his dads were rich and gave him everything he wanted, he was entitled to anything and everything, including other people’s significant others.
No one knew what started the rivalry between you two, but they knew it got cemented when he had sex with your first college boyfriend while you guys were dating and then went on to sleep with any guy you had the slightest attraction to.
So, Jason would be no different when he placed himself a little too close for the dark-haired boy’s liking, trying to maneuver himself away.
“I’ve seen you around on campus before. Are you a student here?”
“Xavion, don’t you have someone else to harass and stalk?” Your best friend commented with an irritated eye roll.
The boy in question only threw a dirty glance at your comrade before turning back to your boyfriend, taking considerable delight in looking him up and down, “Damn, aren’t you a big boy. You’re Y/N’s boyfriend, right? Gotten bored yet?”
Everyone tensed at that, watching how Xavion only got bolder in his flirting, “I’d understand if you did. Y/N’s just not that interesting, and honestly, a little ran through. I’d be happy to show you other options though,” He voiced with a suggestive tone.
Dick, Tim, and Damian watched with slightly nervous eyes as the promiscuous boy moved his hand that was caressing Jason’s arm and placed it around his neck, waiting for the ball to drop as the second Wayne kid's hands began to twitch on the table.
Before anyone could move to stop it, they saw Xavion get literally yanked off of Jason and onto the ground. Your boyfriend and his siblings along with your best friend who began to cheer your name watched as you dragged the slut onto the ground by the back of his shirt and proceeded to WHALE on him.
No one had noticed you coming back from the bathroom, too busy watching Xavion rub his hands all over your boyfriend. When you got closer and saw what was happening, you immediately saw red and picked up your pace, only to dash into a mad sprint when you saw his hand touch Jason’s neck.
Jason after breaking out of his stunned trance immediately ran over to pull you off the screaming boy who was crying for help. Dick and Tim ran over to pull Xavion out of your grasp, just barely managing to save him from what would have been a devastating kick from your boot to his face.
“Touch my boyfriend again and see what happens bitch!” You shouted out at the boy. Luckily, you were in a secluded part of campus, so no one had seen the fight. But, when Xavion had gotten off the ground looking thoroughly fucked up, he tried to run up on you, seeing Jason holding you back and thinking he had an open shot.
Little did he or Jason expect, you used your smaller stature to slip out of Jason’s hold and rushed the boy before kicking your leg up and landing that hit that was taken from you earlier. You took sick satisfaction hearing and feeling the crunch under your foot as it connected with his nose.
Dick, Tim, and Damian watched in complete shock seeing you beat the shit out of this boy. Now, they could really see why you and Jason were such a good match for each other.
When Jason got you back in his arms, he made sure to hold on a little tighter to you so you couldn’t slip away again. Dick and Tim had to help the sobbing boy cradling his broken nose, saying they would take him to the emergency room.
Jason pulled you both back towards the table, sitting you down on his lap as he held your hands down. He could not help how hard he was under you and didn’t care to hide it. Watching that display had him a different level of horny and he frankly couldn’t wait to take you home.
After a few moments passed and you settled down, everyone looked up to the sound of a throat clearing.
“Todd, I don’t know if I ever told you this before,” Damian started, looking at you both with his usual judgemental stare, “...Good job.” He said with a nod toward you.
You were both surprised, Jason especially, as neither of you had ever heard the youngest Robin give out a compliment.
“If you screw this up somehow, which I have little doubt that you’ll find a way, I will not hesitate to end you.”
There was the Damian you both knew.
“I second that motion,” Your best friend added to which you just laughed.
“Shut it, gremlin.” Jason retorted before squeezing you against his body.
“Don’t worry, Damian. I don’t think Jason will do anything to screw this up. Besides, if he does do something stupid, he’ll have me to worry about.” You said, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
You heard Jason growl lowly against you before grinding you into his lap, letting you feel his hardness poking you through your shorts. You popped his arm to which he responded with a pinch on your ass, your best friend watching in disgusted amusement.
“You two make me sick.”
“Back at you, ugly.” You responded.
Damian turned his head, looking in the direction where Dick and Tim took Xavion to an ER room, “I despise harlots.”
“OH! Speaking of which, thank you, Damian, for reminding me.” You said before leaning over Jason to grab your bag and pull out your laptop.
“What are you doing?” Your boyfriend asked.
“Insurance. I knew the day would come when that hoe went too far. So just in case he decides to go to the university about this little spat, I’m emailing a detailed description of how everything went down, along with photos and evidence of his affairs with various teachers and staff. To them, it will look like Xavion attacked me out of retaliation because he thought I would snitch on him about his sexual misconduct. Now, tell me, babe, did you feel physically violated?” You asked while making various edits to your already drafted email.
“Huh?” Jason replied confused.
“Just say yes.” Your best friend told him with a smirk.
“Um, yes? I think…”
“Perfect! Putting that down for the record, so, if that slut decides to try to get me in trouble, I can show I had completely justifiable reasons to hand him his ass on a concrete platter.” You stated a little too cheerily to be considered not disturbing.
Your best friend was not surprised by this at all, while Damian and Jason looked at you like you had two heads.
“Isn’t the expression ‘silver platter?’” Damian pointed out.
“Yeah, but I dragged his ass up and down on concrete, so it’s a concrete platter today.”
You looked up to see the two Robins staring at you.
“What? Bitches fucked around, so bitches found out. Don’t blame me.” You said while continuing to type.
“I fucking love you,” Jason said while biting at your ear lobe, making you laugh.
Damian could only scoff as he watched you two.
“And people swear Todd’s the threat.”
☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
#solar-wing ☀️#☀️🪽.fanfic#☀️🪽.dcposts#☀️🪽.explicit#☀️🪽.smut#☀️🪽.txt#gay#dc#dcu#dcau#dc universe#dc comics#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x male reader#x reader#x male reader#jason todd#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#jason todd x male reader#jason todd x m!reader#red hood#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood x male reader#red hood x m!reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Writing ASL: Techniques to Write Signed Dialogue
Hey, guys! I've been reading a lot of DC Batfamily fanfiction lately, and in doing so I realized how little I see of ASL being represented in written text (love you, Cass!). I wanted to briefly talk about tactics to writing American Sign Language (ASL), and ways that these techniques can help improve your writing in more general contexts!
SOME THINGS BEFORE WE GET STARTED
I will be discussing everything in terms of ASL! If you have a character who uses Chinese Sign Language or even British Sign Language, the same rules will not necessarily apply! Don't be afraid to do some extra research on them.
Do not let this dissuade you from writing a character who signs ASL! This is by no means the end-all be-all to writing ASL dialogue, and I do not intend this post to insinuate that by writing ASL the same way you write English you are deeply offending the Deaf community. If this is something you're interested in though, I highly recommend experimenting with the way you write it! Above all, have fun with your writing.
Related to 2nd rule, but still very important: not everyone will agree that sign language should be treated/written any differently than English. This is a totally valid and understandable stance to take! I do not hope to invalidate this stance by making this post, but rather to introduce an interested audience to how ASL operates in the modern world, and how that can be translated into text.
ADDRESSING SOME MISCONCEPTIONS
ASL is the same as English, just with gestures instead of words.
Actually, no! There is a language that exists that is like that: it's called Signing Exact English, and it's an artificial language; i.e., it did not come about naturally. All languages came from a need to communicate with others, and ASL is no different! It is a language all on it's own, and there is no perfect 1:1 way to translate it to English, just as any spoken language.
2. But everyone who signs ASL knows how to read English, don't they?
No, actually! Because it's a completely different language, people who sign ASL and read English can be considered bilingual: they now know two languages. In fact, fingerspelling a word to a Deaf person in search for the correct sign does not usually work, and is far from the preferred method of conversing with Deaf people.
3. Because ASL does not use as many signs as we do words to articulate a point, it must be an inferior language.
Nope! ASL utilizes 5 complex parameters in order to conversate with others: hand shape, palm orientation, movement, location, and expression. English relies on words to get these points across: while we may say "He's very cute," ASL will sign, "He cute!" with repeated hand movement and an exaggerated facial expression to do what the "very" accomplishes in the English version: add emphasis. Using only ASL gloss can seem infantilizing because words are unable to portray what the other four parameters are doing in a signed sentence.
4. Being deaf is just a medical disability. There's nothing more to it.
Fun fact: there is a difference between being deaf and being Deaf. You just said the same thing twice? But I didn't! To be deaf with a lowercase 'd' is to be unable to hear, while being Deaf with an uppercase is to be heavily involved in the Deaf community and culture. Deaf people are often born deaf, or they become deaf at a young age. Because of this, they attend schools for the Deaf, where they are immersed in an entirely different culture from our own. While your family may mourn the loss of your grandfather's hearing, Deaf parents often celebrate discovering that their newborn is also deaf; they get to share and enjoy their unique culture with their loved one, which is a wonderful thing!
YOU MENTIONED ASL GLOSS. WHAT IS THAT?
ASL gloss is the written approximation of ASL, using English words as "labels" for each sign. ASL IS NOT A WRITTEN LANGUAGE, so this is not the correct way to write it (there is no correct way!): rather, it is a tool used most commonly in classrooms to help students remember signs, and to help with sentence structure.
IF THERE'S NO CORRECT WAY TO WRITE IN ASL, THEN HOW DO I DO IT?
A most astute observation! The short answer: it's up to you. There is no right or wrong way to do it. The longer answer? Researching the culture and history, understanding sign structure, and experimenting with description of the 5 parameters are all fun ways you can take your ASL dialogue to the next level. Here are 3 easy ways you can utilize immediately to make dialogue more similar to the way your character is signing:
Sign languages are never as wordy as spoken ones. Here's an example: "Sign languages are never wordy. Spoken? Wordy." Experiment with how much you can get rid of without the meaning of the sentence being lost (and without making ASL sound goo-goo-ga-ga-y; that is to say, infantilizing).
Emotion is your friend. ASL is a very emotive language! If we were to take that sentence and get rid of the unnecessary, we could get something like "ASL emotive!" The way we add emphasis is by increasing the hand motion, opening the mouth, and maybe even moving the eyebrows. It can be rather intuitive: if you mean to say very easy, you would sign EASY in a flippant manner; if you mean to say so handsome, you would sign handsome and open your mouth or fan your face as if you were hot. Think about a game of Charades: how do you move your mouth and eyebrows to "act out" the word? How are you moving your body as your teammates get closer? There are grammar rules you can certainly look up if you would like to be more technical, too, but this is a good place to start!
Practice describing gestures and action. ASL utilizes three dimensional space in a lot of fun and interesting ways. Even without knowing what a specific sign is, describing body language can be a big help in deciphering the "mood" of a sentence. Are they signing fluidly (calm) or sharply (angry)? Are their signs big (excited) or small (timid)? Are they signing rushedly (impatient) or slowly? Messily (sad) or pointedly (annoyed)? Consider what you can make come across without directly addressing it in dialogue! Something ese about ASL is that English speakers who are learning it tend to think the speakers a little nosy: they are more than able to pick up on the unsaid, and they aren't afraid to ask about it.
Above all, don't be afraid to ask questions, do research or accept advice! New languages can be big and scary things, but don't let that make you shy away. Again, there is nothing wrong with deciding to write ASL the same as you write your English. I've personally found that experimenting with ASL dialogue in stories has aided me in becoming more aware of how to describe everything, from sappy emotional moments to action-packed fighting scenes. Writing ASL has helped me think about new ways to improve my description in more everyday contexts, and I hope it can be a big help to you as well, both in learning about Deaf culture and in pursuing your future writing endeavors. :)
P.S: I am quite literally only dipping my toes into the language and culture. I cannot emphasize how important it is to do your own research if it's someting you're interested in!
P.P.S: I want to apologize for my earlier P.S! What I meant by “I am … dipping my toes into the language and culture” was in direct regards to the post; what I should have said is “this post is only dipping its toes into the language and culture.” While I am not Deaf myself, I am a sophomore in college minoring in ASL and Deaf Culture, and I am steadily losing my hearing. Of course, that does not make me an authority figure on the topic, which is why I strongly encourage you to do your own research, ask your own questions, and consult any Deaf friends, family, or online peers you may have.
#dc batman#batfamily#cassandra cain#ASL#american sign language#deaf#deaf culture#tayscreams#writing advice#writing
3K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
forgotten-wtcd-facts
Forgotten WTCD Facts
asagamifujiino
Bend
iplayvideogames
Video Games
theandrogynoustree
The Androgynous Tree
theboagirlcosplay
TheBoaGirl Cosplay