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threestarsinline · 3 days

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The Gala

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: It was supposed to be simple. Just accompany Jason to the party. It was also supposed to be quick. Just go in, talk to a few people, and out. But then, you find yourself meeting your boyfriend's family.

Word Count: 9.3K

Category: Fluff (established relationship) and a tiny, tiny little bit of angst

Warnings: Rich people?? Bahahsjsjs Mentions of alcohol

Author’s note: My Wayne gala fic debut (with a super original title, I know jskdks), hope you like it!

You look at yourself once again in the mirror. The truth is that you love the image that looks back at you. You feel comfortable and true to yourself, as well as beautiful. The dress that you’re wearing playing a big part in it. Your fingers slowly trace the hem of the bright red of the soft fabric.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You know that the dress probably won’t live up to the standard of the women that will be at the place but for you, it’s beautiful and elegant, making you feel like a seven year old girl wearing her favorite princess dress and giving you the confidence that you will need tonight.

Even if the style of the dress is not as chic or as sophisticated as others, you’re sure that the red will stand out. The thought increases your nerves. You don’t usually wear red but when you saw this dress you knew that you had to buy it, you could easily see yourself in it. And also, you couldn’t wait to see Jason’s reaction.

You knew that he would love it, or so you hoped. He always liked it when you wore red, or anything for that matter. No matter how you looked he always looked at you with the same silly smile and caring eyes. But there was something in wanting to see him swoon all over you. You smile thinking of him. Even if the night ends in a disaster, you both will be at each other's side.

Just as you do a little spin to see the movement of your skirt just a bit up your knees, the doorbell rings. When you open the door Jason is looking around stressfully, breathing heavily, his hands alternating on running through his hair as if trying to fix it and adjusting his tie. He doesn’t seem to notice that you have opened the door.

“Hey,” you say softly. He turns to you.

“Hi,” he says breathlessly in return, and by the way that he’s taking you in, you can tell that it isn’t for the same reason as before. You look down shyly and put a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You then take him in, and to say that you’re not ready for the full sight in front of you is an understatement. Jason was already handsome but to see him in a suit… Your insides are doing crazy things.

“Y/N, you look… incredible.”

“Thank you.” You take a small step and on your toes you give him a kiss on the cheek. “I have to say that you look great. I think that I could get used to seeing you in a suit.” He smiles warmly but suddenly he seems to come out of his daze.

“Listen, I’m so sorry I’m late and that I kept you waiting. I got caught up before and then this stupid tie wouldn’t work with me and…” You shush him softly with a kiss and then shake your head.

“Don’t worry, I just got finished too.”

He sighs in relief, and then, with a life of their own, before you can help yourself, your hands lift to fix his hair to give it his usual style but less messy, although as always, the white streak stays as rebel as ever. Your hands slide down his neck to the lapels of his jacket and then adjust his tie that was crooked to the left.

“You know how to do that?” he says, referring to the tie.

“Not really. I have just always wanted to do that. You know, like in movies and so.” You can’t help but giggle a bit while you say that.

“Well, that makes two of us.” He takes your hands and places a kiss on them. You sigh happily, the soft gesture making you melt. You’re sure that this man is going to be the death of you. The care and affection with which he always touches and looks at you was both deadly and invigorating. “Ready?”

“I think so.”

“Because if not, you know that I wouldn’t mind one bit to stay here and take a more careful look at this gorgeous dress.” His hands find your waist and after a peck on your lips, his own meet your neck.

“I know. And that’s why we have to get going, we’re already late.” You put a hand in his chest to place some distance with the temptation of his lips, that now are pouting.

“‘A queen is never late, everyone else is simply early,’” he deadpans.

A laugh threatens to escape from your throat. “You just did not.”

“What?” he says feigning innocence, but the smirk on his lips gives him away.

“You just did not quote the queen of Genovia,” you say amused.

“Okay, first, Julie Andrews is always right. And second, you were the one that showed me that masterpiece so, you should have seen it coming.” He’s grinning from ear to ear. You wish that you could always see him like this. So happy and carefree.

“Can't say that you’re not right,” you reply while hugging him, resting your head on his chest and letting his calming scent surround you.

He then takes your face in his hands and with your noses touching he whispers, “I love you.”

Your smile at those words never faltered. “I love you too.”

When you two reach the manor Jason drives past the main gate and goes directly to the secondary one that leads to the back entrance of the manor in order to avoid all the fancy cars and limos that litter the road of the main one.

Even from outside you can tell that the party is already in full swing, the windows of the main living room that in these cases often transforms into a dance hall, the only ones with light in them and cluttered with people.

Jason parks the car but his hands do not leave the steering wheel. His grip tightens and untightens around it as he takes a deep breath and looks towards the back door of the manor. You know well how even though the manor is a home to Jason, in events like this it almost feels like a cage.

“Hey,” you whisper softly while you take his hands into yours. Immediately, Jason’s eyes leave the manor and turn towards you. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. And it’ll be quick, we just have to show face for a little while, just like we talked about. And then as fast as we’re in, we’ll be out,” you reassure him while softly rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs.

Jason gulps and nods, trying to will the nerves away, though his hands have stopped flexing and now lay relaxed in your grip ever since you touched them.

“Or we can leave right now. Forget all this. Spend the evening alone, just you and me. Maybe even some Batburger?” you tease with a smile, letting him know that he always has an out with you. Your calming words seem to work as a small chuckle leaves him and he lifts your hands to kiss them once again.

He shakes his head.

You tilt yours. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I just needed a moment. Besides, if I don’t go in I’ll never hear the end of it. Also, if we get this out of the way now, we won’t have to come to another one for a long while. And like you said, it’ll be quick.”

You nod and give his hands an encouraging squeeze. “Exactly. And remember, if you want to leave early, you just tell me.”

He nods, a lot more sure of himself than just a moment ago. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” you echo.

Jason gets out of the car and you know better than to try and get out yourself, having learned in the very early stages of your relationship that if Jason can help it, you will never have to open a door again. And like always, your door opens and he extends a hand to help you out.

Despite the temperature dropping slightly during the night with the summer reaching its end, it’s a very nice evening. A soft breeze grazes your arms and the cut of your dress but it’s not enough to make you feel cold, mainly due to the warm hand that settles on your lower back. In the sky, the stars that would be impossible to see downtown accompany the moon in illuminating the night.

You two make your way through the gravel path that leads to the back door hand in hand, giving each other courage for the night that awaits ahead.

Once inside, it’s like entering another world entirely. Chatter and glass clinks fill the air and you’re just glad that at least this way your entrance to the party won’t make that much of a fuss as you would have done if you had used the main door.

“I was starting to think that you weren’t going to appear, Master Jason.”

At the sound of the voice both you and Jason stop dead in your tracks near the kitchen, almost like two kids getting caught trying to sneak out instead of sneaking in.

“Alfred!” Jason greets him exaggeratedly, trying to distract from the fact that you two have been caught arriving late. The British man can’t help but mirror Jason’s big smile, even as it breaks his teasing smirk. You smile as you watch them hug and then Alfred turns to you.

“Oh, and you’ve brought Miss Y/N as well! So great to see you again, dear,” he says as he also gives you a quick hug.

“You too, Alfred,” you reply with a smile. “Though it’s just Y/N, please.”

“You know I’m not going to do that, Miss Y/N.” The crinkles of the butler’s smile reminding you that trying to argue with him was a futile attempt.

You had only met him once before but that had been enough to get to know each other quite well and to already care for each other.

You had met him some weeks before, when Jason took you to the manor for the very first time one weekend as a kind of romantic getaway, as it had been left deserted and empty by Alfred and Bruce due to a business/Batman trip and Tim and Damian were away with their respective friends. It was an opportunity like no other.

It had been a wonderful long summery weekend, spent cooking together, lounging in the pool while sharing lazy kisses in the water with your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hands holding you as the sun set behind you, and watching movies in the home theater. You had never felt more at peace or relaxed.

And then, Alfred had come back a couple of days early. You and Jason had been cooking lunch (well, Jason had been cooking while you admired him perched on the counter), when Alfred entered, surprised to see anyone in the manor. After the initial surprise, friendly introductions had been made since from all of the members of his family, Alfred was the only one that Jason wasn’t wary of you meeting.

Jason could only thank whatever was out there that it had been Alfred who had come back early and not Bruce. He wasn’t ready to handle that yet.

Alfred joined you two for lunch and even though you were slightly nervous at the beginning at meeting a member of Jason’s family, you were glad that it was Alfred since he instantly made you feel welcome and at ease. Jason had watched your conversations with a small smile, glad to see and not surprised at all that you got along so well.

After lunch, Alfred left you two be to enjoy the rest of the day as well as the next day since it was your last in the manor. However, he still insisted on making you two breakfast the next day and you got to try Alfred’s famous pancakes. There was no doubt from where Jason had gotten his excellent culinary skills.

You still crossed paths with Alfred a couple more times but they hadn’t been awkward at all. During that short time of seeing you and Jason interact, Alfred saw just how happy you two made and loved each other. He could clearly see the certainty of your relationship and he couldn’t be happier for the young boy that had once been the second Robin. He totally deserved the happiness that you brought him.

And as Alfred insists on calling you Miss Y/N, with the sounds of the party drifting into the kitchen, just like he had done the first time that he met you, the same thought crosses his mind.

That the only way in which he would ever call you something other than that would be when you became Mrs. Todd. Something that he was certain would happen from the very first moment that he saw you laugh with Jason before he had made his presence known that summer afternoon. A truth as plain as the sun.

Now, seeing that the British man isn’t giving up upon your insistence on calling you just by your first name, you sigh defeatedly. “Alright.”

At that, Alfred smiles and turns back to Jason. “Your brothers will be glad to see you’ve been able to make it.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

You smile at his antics and squeeze his hand. The thing was that at each Wayne gala, as it was to be expected, a few members of the family should be present. But considering the fact that all, literally all, the Waynes hated the galas, having Waynes at a gala had long been a recurring problem.

No one still talks about the time that at one of them, not a single Wayne had appeared. The press had had a field day with it and it took the Waynes months to repair the damage.

For a rich family in Gotham that lead a double life as vigilantes, they sure hated the appearances and masks that came with having to entertain the socialites. You have always found the fact extremely entertaining.

And so, in order to avoid the great gala disaster, as Jason had explained to you, they had come up with a system. Taking turns attending the galas and doing so in different groups as they all knew that no one, absolutely no one should have to suffer through a gala alone (except Bruce, who sometimes had to go alone, downsides of being the face of the company).

For example, a group could be Bruce, Dick and Damian (who, lucky for him, has never had to experience the torture of going to one alone, still being a kid and all), or Jason and Dick, but never just Jason and Tim alone, the two always looking to make an escape and neither of them keeping the other in check. However, if they were accompanied by someone else it was manageable. The pairings and different groupings going on and on.

But tonight, however, it was the turn for all four of the batboys to be there, Bruce out on a mission. And so here you were, having offered to accompany your boyfriend when he told you that he had to go to the gala. Jason had said that it wasn’t necessary but you could see the relief in his eyes when you assured him that you wanted to go with him, knowing how hard these things could be sometimes.

Though not liking large crowds either, you were no better. What a pair did you two make. But you knew that together, you could face this night. Now, apart from the overall challenge of enduring the night, came the very real possibility of finally meeting Jason’s brothers. It wasn’t that Jason was trying to keep you away from them or hiding you, they did know about you, it’s just that it was a delicate issue that he wanted to handle at his own time and when he was ready.

You understood that and of course never pushed him on the topic. You knew that if it were for Jason, he would scream that you two were together a hundred times a day, he had no problem holding your hand in public nor kissing you until you felt dizzy in the middle of the street.

Either way, when you two realized that you could meet them, Jason came to the conclusion that it wasn’t so bad. That way they’ll stop pestering him about meeting you and you would do it in a more relaxed ambience than what a formal dinner with all of his family, including Bruce, could be, with all of their eyes fixed on you and asking you millions of questions. At least this way, with the gala, distractions were easy to come by if a quick escape was necessary.

So, if you met them, good. If you didn’t, good as well.

Though still, the nerves persisted.

After exchanging a couple of phrases more with Alfred, he returned to his duties at the party and with your arm looped through Jason’s, you stepped into the space that had been turned into a ballroom of sorts, all of Gotham’s elite there. Either to donate to a Wayne fundraiser (sadly, the least likely of them all), invest in Wayne Enterprises (more likely), drink (very likely), or to snoop around the mysterious Wayne manor and find out more about the peculiar family (the most likely of them all).

You have to say that you're impressed with what has been done with the space. Added chandeliers and carefully placed lamps give the room a golden glow, highlighting all the luxury of the attendees, from expensive watches, to even more expensive necklaces, and making all the glasses of champagne around the room sparkle.

On one side, a bar has been set up, on the other, on a small stage, musicians play for the dancing couples on the dance floor that has been put up in the center. And scattered around the room, high tables where people place their drinks and gather for conversations.

The lack of chairs does not go unnoticed, just a couple every few tables and the stools that surround the bar. The lack no doubt made deliberately, that way, no one would settle for long, either forcing them to mingle and spend some money on the gala or directly leave. The Waynes really do not like to have people in their house. You have to stifle a laugh at the thought, you could relate to that.

Though it makes perfect sense, given that no one wants too many people on the floor above the headquarters for Gotham’s vigilantes for long. You also know that in whatever way they can, they always try to have the galas either at Wayne Tower or at any other place, but sometimes, having one at the manor once in a while was inevitable.

You can’t help but tense up as you notice more and more people start to look towards you two. You don’t even notice that your anxious nature has gotten the better of you and that your grip on Jason’s arm has tightened until his other hand covers yours, the touch immediately grounding and soothing you. You look up at him and take a deep breath as his green eyes look at you encouragingly and gratefully, telling you that you can do this and that he’s thankful that you’re here with him.

You smile before squeezing his arm back and then you two plunge into battle. Showtime.

You make small talk with a few of the guests before approaching the bar to get something to drink. As you wait for your drinks you feel Jason lean down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back. You okay?”

You nod with a smile, telling him that it’s okay before he gives a quick kiss to your temple and then disappears into the crowd.

Your eyes scan the room as you take the refreshment that has been placed in front of you and take a sip, trying not to draw too much attention upon yourself while you wait. You’re no vigilante but as a person that prefers alone time, assessing the room before making any social interaction goes without saying. You’re even thinking of seeking Alfred and asking him if he needs help with anything when your eyes clock Jason again on the other side of the room, cornered by a bunch of socialites.

He has a pleasing smile on his face as he listens to what they’re telling him. To any other person, it might seem like he’s genuinely interested, but you can read him like a book. The corners of his smile are tense, apart from the fact that it doesn't reach his eyes, and his too constant nodding tells you how he is feigning the interest. His eyes find yours for a moment before returning to the lady speaking to him and in that split millisecond you can see how his smile turns real for you, before becoming fake once again.

You leave your glass on the counter of the bar to make your way to him and save him from the people crowding him when suddenly-

“Care for a dance?” a smooth voice says at your side.

You turn to decline when you’re met with eyes of a vibrant shade of blue, a boyish youth and mischief in them, but also slightly hardened with years of experience dealing with the worst of Gotham. His black hair is perfectly styled, a winning and charming smile on his lips and clad in a black suit with a bow tie that highlights all of his features. You can see how he’s a handsome man but still to you, he doesn’t hold a candle to Jason.

Of course you know who he is.

Gotham’s golden boy.

“Dick Grayson.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” His smile widens and you realize that this is happening whether you want it or not. You’re meeting one of Jason’s brothers. Your eyes flick back to Jason but he’s no longer surrounded by the socialites. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found. He must’ve managed to escape somehow. Looks like you’re going to have to face this alone. You had even been starting to think that this moment wouldn’t come since you hadn’t seen any of Jason’s brothers since you arrived.

You turn back to Dick and he’s still in the exact same position, leaning with one arm on the bar, carefully watching you with a knowing smile. Everything in his demeanor open, easy.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,“ he says, extending his hand.

Your force your body to release the small tension that it has accumulated and with a small smile you shake his hand. “You too.”

“Glad to see that Jason hasn’t made you up. We were starting to doubt that you really existed,” he comments playfully.

You know that he isn’t intimidating you or trying to scare you, merely wanting to meet you, know more about Jason’s life, see the reason why he’s the happiest that they have ever seen him.

“I’m very real, yes.”

“So, how about that dance?”

You pause for a second. “I’m not the best dancer.”

“Come on, please. How am I supposed to get to know my new sister-in-law otherwise?”

“By just talking?”

He chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. How about this, how am I supposed to get to know my sister-in-law without gossiping rich people interrupting us over and over again?” Dick nods to the side and you see how a few of the guests are looking towards you two, no doubt about to walk up to you and force you to establish conversation.

“Lead the way,” you end up saying and Dick’s smile beams even more, his joyous nature and openness making you feel at ease. You feel like he’s trying to make this easy for you, knowing how awkward meeting your boyfriend’s family could be.

He then offers you his arm to guide you to the dance floor and in no time you’re joining all the couples waltzing around it.

“So… Y/N, tell me. What are your intentions with our dear Jaybird?” he jokes in mock seriousness while arching an eyebrow.

“Jaybird?” you ask, never having heard the nickname before but already liking it.

“Oh, Y/N, I have so many anecdotes to tell you. We’re going to have so much fun.”

You smile at the prospect of hearing stories about Jason. “Can’t wait. But to answer your question, my intentions are to just be with him. For as long as he wants me.”

Dick nods, as if you just confirmed something that he already knew. “I feel like that’s going to be a long time.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words. You really hope that it is too. Forever, if you can help it. “Though are you sure that you want to put up with him for so long? He can be insufferable,” he adds, and you chuckle.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Afterwards, he asks you about your job and your family, and you ask him about life in Blüdhaven. You’re glad for his easygoingness, allowing you to feel comfortable and a sense of camaraderie and friendship already between you. You’re also glad that you’re dancing since you’re sure that if you weren’t, conversation wouldn’t have flowed as easily without the privacy that it has given you.

“My turn, Grayson,” a voice suddenly speaks.

You two stop dancing and turn your heads to the side, and then slightly down to find a young boy. His dark combed back hair and his straight posture making him a shadow of his father, his green eyes looking up at you expectantly and his tan skin inherited from his mother. Talia al Ghul.

“No, it isn’t,” Dick replies.

“Yes, it is,” Damian retorts, holding Dick’s gaze. It’s like they are challenging one another while also having a mental conversation.

Finally, Dick sighs. “Fine. But only if Y/N is okay with that."

“It’s alright,” you say softly.

“See?” Damian insists and Dick rolls his eyes. You smile at their interaction and then Dick turns back to you.

“Thanks for dancing with me, Y/N. It’s been really nice finally getting to talk to you.”

“Likewise.”

Dick squeezes your hands in goodbye before letting go, Damian taking his spot to dance with you. “See you around.” Dick says and you nod and watch as he takes his leave, until a throat clears in front of you and you begin dancing once again.

“You’re Todd’s girlfriend then? Y/L/N?”

“That’s me. You must be Damian. It’s nice to meet you.” Damian nods solemnly before staring intensely at you, as if deciphering you. His movements are graceful and elegant, even more purposeful than Dick’s even. You suppose that all the grace must have something to do with growing up with ninjas and practically being raised like royalty.

Not one to back out, you hold his gaze and stare back at him. He’s shorter than you but you have no doubt that in no time he’ll be taller than you.

“You’re a great dancer, Damian,” you finally say and you can see how something in him changes, no longer putting up the intimidating facade, allowing himself to relax slightly.

“Thanks. Mother taught me.”

“That’s nice. I hope I’m not making you look too much like a fool.”

Damian shrugs. “You’re alright.”

You smile, taking his version of a compliment as a win. Then you take another look around the room, wondering where Jason could be. Maybe Alfred has asked for his help on something. You turn back to Damian, who looks around the space uninterested.

“I’m guessing you don’t like these galas much,” you say, trying to get him to open up a bit more.

“They are… a responsibility.”

“Yeah, well, I’d much rather prefer doing something else. Like going to the aquarium or the museum.” Damian’s eyes shot back to yours like a flash, a small sparkle in them.

Bingo.

You try to contain your triumphant smile. “Have you seen the new art exhibit? Jason told me that you like drawing,” you continue.

And just like that, whatever it was that Damian was wary of disappears as you two make conversation, discussing different painters, Damian’s art and your own hobbies. Then, for a second, Damian pauses in thought, like a jury about to deliver their decision, making you wonder what he’s about to say.

“You’re cool. Todd was right about you,” he finally says as the current song ends and you two come to a stop.

You smile softly in thanks. “Glad to hear that.”

“Though I’m not yet quite sure what you could be seeing in Todd. You’re clearly way cooler than him.”

That makes you chuckle and you don’t miss how a smile twitches on Damian’s face.

“Thanks, I guess? Though he’s not that bad. Not at all.”

Damian just shrugs at your statement but you have the feeling that behind all the picking, there’s fondness and a brotherly bond between him and Jason.

“Anyway, I have to go feed my animals. It was nice meeting you, Y/N.” Your jaw almost drops, but you manage to avoid it before your lips twist into a wide smile.

Damian’s calling you by your first name. When Jason has told you that he never does that with anyone. Not even Dick.

“You too, Damian.”

He nods in goodbye before going towards the exit of the ballroom. You leave the dance floor and take a deep breath. Well, that wasn’t so bad. It was fun, actually.

You decide that you need some air in order to take all of the recent events in and head towards the open patio door that looks out to the gardens. Even though you can still hear the party, as the door is still open, the change of ambience is very much welcomed. You inhale the fresh air before releasing a content sigh at having a moment for yourself.

You lean on the railing surrounding the few steps that separate you from the grass as you gaze up at the clear sky, the moon illuminating the patio and the late summer evening breeze creating ripples along the surface of the pool. It’s a nice break from the scorching nights that Gotham can have along the summer. You can’t wait for the fall.

As you let yourself relax in the quiet evening, you think back to what has just happened. You just met two of Jason’s brothers. And everything went well. You still can’t believe it. You let out a soft chuckle at the thought that your social skills haven’t failed you this time. Despite usually needing a lot of time with a person to open up and build trust, you’re surprised at how easy it came to you with Dick and Damian, already getting along and having the feeling that you’re going to become good friends. Family, someday.

Maybe it’s due to Dick’s easygoing personality or the things that you have in common with Damian but you feel like it’s more than that. The knowledge that these kind of connections don’t come easy for them either, given all the secrets that they have to keep and the fact that they don’t have to tiptoe around you. The fact that you all love Jason Todd dearly.

You’re just glad that you click with them as well as you did all that time ago with Jason. Who, by the way, is still MIA. It’s been a good while since you saw him. Where could he be?

“Do you want some?” a voice suddenly says, interrupting your thoughts and making you turn towards its source.

Well, looks like the meeting-your-boyfriend’s-family night isn’t over.

Tim Drake stands on the doorway, holding two glasses of champagne. He’s wearing a suit as well but his appearance isn’t as neat as Dick’s or Damian’s. His hair is slightly tousled and his tie is loosened around his neck. His blue eyes, a shade lighter than Dick’s, look kindly at you.

“Sure, thanks,” you say as you take the glass that he offers you. The truth was that you weren’t a big drinker, only having a few sips on scattered special occasions during the year, like champagne on New Year’s Day or the rare instances in which you found yourself in glamorous parties like this.

You take a small sip of the sparkly drink as Tim comes to stand next to you.

“So, what do you think of the gala? Having fun?”

“It’s alright. You all do know how to throw a party,” you answer.

“What can I say? If there’s one thing we’re good at is appearances,” Tim says jokingly.

You nod with a smile while taking another sip, though this time you can’t help the grimace that you make at the growing bitter taste of alcohol in your mouth.

“Not a fan?”

“Not really,” you respond honestly, deciding to leave the glass on the outdoor table for now.

“Me neither, actually.”

And then, your eyes widen when, just like nothing, Tim literally throws the content of his glass, his untouched and what you’re sure of is a very, very, expensive champagne towards the grass and leaves his now empty glass next to yours.

Seriously, what was wrong with rich people?

You shake the thought as you and Tim start making friendly conversation. He’s telling you a story in which Jason faceplanted once during training, when it strikes you that it really is amazing how all the Robins somehow actually physically look like family despite not being blood-related. And it’s not just the coincidence that all of them have clear colored eyes and dark hair, but rather the way in which they hold themselves, something in their stance and attitude giving them a similar aura. An aura of shared hardships and experiences.

“I’m sorry that it took so long for us to meet,” Tim says after a small moment of peaceful silence. You shake your head and you can feel the shift in the air as his expression turns more serious and continues talking before you can say anything.

“I know that we can be a lot, and you haven’t even met all of us.” You tilt your head, listening, waiting to see where he’s going with this. “Things between us and Jason are good, though of course, like with any family, there are some rough patches.” He pauses for a second, leaning with his hip on the metal railing while crossing his arms. “We really wanted to meet you and we feared that something that we hadn’t realized had been going on with Jason and that he was retreating again by refusing to introduce you to us.”

You shake your head again. “It’s not that at all, Tim, I promise. Things are good. He just gets doubtful sometimes and needs to take things at his own time.”

Tim nods, letting you know that he understands. “I’m just sorry that we boarded you like this, we thought it might be easier taking the pressure out of it. Instead of having a formal family dinner or something, just meet you today in case that Jason decided to bring you. All in all, I’m glad we did, we probably wouldn’t have met you for a lot longer, probably until it was strictly necessary, if we hadn’t intervened.”

You’re processing all the information when before you can reply, you finally hear Jason’s voice again.

“Y/N!” he calls as he approaches you after spotting you outside. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you alone. I was ambushed by the guests before going to the bathroom, then Alfred asked me to go help him with something in the kitchen and then Dick couldn’t fucking wait to ask me something about a case. It was just one thing after the other, I’m so sorry,” he rambles, a hand running through his hair in distress, knowing how you hate this kind of events as much as him.

Just as he finishes his rant, he finally reaches you and as he takes your hands in his, you can visibly see how his distressed state morphs into a relieved one just by being next to you. It’s like during your unexpected time apart Jason had been underwater the whole time and has just been finally allowed to come up for air to the surface and fill his lungs just by seeing you and being near you again.

You just shake your head and gently bring a hand to the nape of his neck to press your foreheads together so that he can ground himself and focus on you, showing him that you’re okay. You just know he’s feeling guilty for leaving you on your own when you two promised to be together to face the night.

“It’s okay,” you say softly in a low voice, trying to calm him.

And then, after connecting the dots between what Tim and Jason have just said, everything clicks. It’s not a coincidence that you’ve met Jason’s brothers one right after the other and that Jason just so conveniently had been missing from your side to prevent that from happening. You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips upon realizing what has happened, finding the Waynes’ antics and dramaticness quite entertaining.

“And don’t worry, I had company,” you add.

And just as you say that, you can see how Jason feels movement to his right and turns his head like a hawk to find Tim shifting on his feet. Jason hadn’t seen him earlier since you were the only one visible through the open door and once outside, Tim’s side of the terrace was covered in shadows.

You see the exact moment in which Jason’s gaze hardens staring at Tim, realizing just exactly what had actually happened, all of his family plotting to distract him so that they could meet you. You know that Jason isn’t actually angry, just slightly annoyed from the ruse and from being kept away from you, and now he’s channeling all of that towards Tim, making it seem bigger than what it actually is.

“Tim…” Jason says through gritted teeth in a threatening tone as he separates himself from you and starts stomping towards Tim. It’s almost comically funny how Tim immediately scrambles and bolts to the other side of the terrace, putting the outdoor table between him and Jason, extending his arms in front of him to protect himself as if he was some defenseless animal and not a well-trained vigilante.

You almost have to stifle a laugh.

Sibling dynamics at its finest.

“Listen, Jason, I-” Tim starts to plead his case but before Jason gets too far away from you, you grab his hand again. And it’s incredible the way in which Jason turns towards you and immediately his posture softens. Tim doesn’t waste the opportunity and escapes into the gala again, leaving you and Jason alone.

“It’s alright, they just wanted to meet me,” you say and Jason sighs, deciding to let the matter go and just come back to your arms, his hands on your waist, giving a small subconscious squeeze.

“Yes, but they had no right to play with us,” he answers, pressing your foreheads together once again.

“I know. But, hey,” you lift your hand to push some hair away from his forehead, “nothing bad happened. I’m still here.”

Jason nods and his gaze softens before closing his eyes, relishing in your touch. You close your eyes as well and you two stay in your embrace for a moment. Letting the night envelop you, surrounding yourselves with the evening sounds of the faded chatter from the party, the breeze rustling the bushes, the water in the pool, the night time insects and an owl in the distance.

“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Jason finally says, looking at you once again, having had enough of the social night.

“Yes,” you wholeheartedly agree, wanting to have your boyfriend all for yourself.

With that said, Jason nods, kisses your forehead and takes your hand firmly in his in order to not lose you again and you two make your way out of the gala. You don’t even bother to say goodbye to anybody. As you two leave, on the side of the ballroom, Dick, Tim, Damian and Alfred all stand in line, watching you fondly, glad to finally have met you and seen how happy Jason is with you. Before disappearing from view you give them a small wave and they smile.

You still have to meet Bruce, but that’s a problem for another day.

When you finally get home and Jason closes the door behind you, the two of you having already decided that he would spend the night at your apartment, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. Finally home. You take a deep breath, shedding your social armor. Jason feels relief too at having finally left the manor, because even though the place will always be a home to him, the very definition of the word changed when he met you.

Jason watches you mesmerized as you leave your purse on a table and then move to the kitchen to drink a cold glass of water. He stands idly in your living room following your every move, a cast spell on him.

You’re beautiful.

Even though your hair isn’t as perfectly done as it was at the beginning of the evening and there’s a tired drag to your feet, you are. You always are.

He still can’t believe that you’re with him.

The way that you move around him as comfortably as you’d do if you were alone amazes him. It amazes him that you feel safe enough with him to just be yourself, not putting on any mask like you did in the gala with the attendees. He’s just so immensely grateful that you let him see you like this, open and being so undoubtedly yourself.

You’re saying something about cooking something quick or maybe ordering takeout when you brace yourself with a hand on the back of a chair to take off your heels with the other. But before you can take off your shoe, Jason softly grabs your hand, stopping you mid-rant.

He pulls you to follow him and you don’t put any kind of resistance, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. The only sounds the passing cars on the street and the steps of your heels on the floor. Once you reach the couch Jason makes you sit on it and you watch as he kneels in front of you and then, with a care and gentleness that no one would expect from the man known as Red Hood, he begins to undo the straps of your heels.

And there’s just something in the sight in front of you that makes your heart flip in your chest. How someone as big as him gets down on his knees before you, for once him being the one looking up at you instead of the other way around, almost as if worshiping the ground you walk on, as if you were the one that brought him back to life and not some mystical pit.

Now it’s you the one that watches him enchanted, wondering how you were so lucky as to have him love you. He takes one of your heels off, his eyes never leaving yours for a second, and then gives your free foot a slight massage to help the soreness out of it and you sigh in relief.

How is he even real?

And then, just before slipping the other heel off, with one of his warm hands on your lower calf, you watch with your heart in your throat how he kisses the inside of your knee.

You let out a small gasp and it’s crazy how much your heart is racing because you just know that he did it just for the heck of it, an act so loving, so simple, with no major intention rather than the selfish feeling of wanting to feel your skin against his lips.

But what raises goosebumps all throughout your body is not the action in itself, but rather the dark sparkle that crosses his eyes upon hearing your gasp, promising you something for later, for when he’s drawing shapes all across your body, as if tracing a map signaling a treasure. Except that the map itself is the treasure and he’s just taking his time exploring it, enjoying it, admiring it, worshiping it.

Jason then finally takes off your other heel and gives your foot the same quick massage treatment as the other one. When he’s done he gets back up on his feet and offers you a hand.

You take it and he pulls you to your feet again. And then, in the same silent comfort that has settled over you, with the same care and gentleness that Jason has treated you with, you slowly undo his tie, your gaze still fixed on his, saying a million different things that do not need to be said out loud. Most of them having to do with how much you love him.

After you discard the tie somewhere on the couch, you undo the first couple of buttons of his shirt, releasing him from the uptightness that comes with them and you feel his muscles relax even further under your hands. Next, you slip his jacket from his shoulders and he helps you take it off of him while he looks at you with the same intensity that you regard him with, reveling in how you take care of him.

Then, Jason rolls his sleeves up a bit his forearms before taking one of your hands in his and then, with his other arm around your waist, pulls you flush against his chest, practically fusing you two together, as if he could never pull you close enough, needing you as physically closer as possible, just as much as he needed oxygen, if not more.

“We didn’t have a chance to dance,” he whispers then with your faces inches from each other, still not disturbing the peaceful silence.

You hum in agreement and before you know it, you’re already swaying softly together in the living room, both of you with your eyes closed, your head resting on the crook of his neck and his on your hair. There’s no music but it doesn’t need to be, you feel so at peace and content, none of the opulent galas in the world could compare to a quiet evening with Jason.

You have no idea how much time you’ve spent there, barefoot and wrapped in Jason’s arms, swaying to the sounds of Gotham’s nightlife and your own heartbeats, only knowing that you would gladly spend forever like this.

“Thank you.”

You lift your head to find that Jason’s already looking at you.

“For what?” you ask in the same soft tone as him, a lilt of confusion in your voice.

“For coming today.” Before you can respond he keeps talking. “For sticking around. For putting up with my family.” A pause. His eyes leave yours to look to the side. He shrugs. “Just… for being with me, I guess.”

Your gaze softens and you feel a pang in your chest as you see Jason’s insecurities eating away at him. You stop your swaying and bring your hands to Jason’s face to make him focus on you, his hands moving instinctively to hold your waist. But Jason’s still avoiding your gaze and you hate the doubt that you see creeping in your favorite shade of green.

“I’m always going to be here. I’m right where I want to be. I love you. And I’m not putting up with anything, I want you. I want to be part of all the parts in your life,” you say, softly caressing his cheek with your thumb, having the suspicion that these doubts have something to do with meeting his brothers tonight.

“I know. I just…” Jason takes a deep breath closing his eyes, taking a moment to organize his thoughts before looking at you again. “I just can’t believe that you’re still here. I have this… this feeling that one way or another I’m going to screw up and lose you.”

You open your mouth to refute him but Jason shakes his head, presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes to concentrate on what he wants to say, and continues before you can say anything. “And I know, trust me, I know that you love me and that you’re not going to leave. You show me every single day. I was just afraid that if neither myself nor me being Red Hood hadn’t driven you away, my family surely would.”

When Jason finishes he doesn’t move, his forehead still against yours and his eyes still closed, as if he doesn’t want to face what may come next, and his hands on your waist in the same position, if anything, holding onto you even tighter.

Holding onto you as if it were the last time, as if his confession would finally be the thing that would drive you away. You close your eyes as well for a second and take a deep breath.

How can you even begin to express how much you love this man?

Your heart is bursting with how much you feel for him. The love that you hold for him begins in the depth of it and as your heart pumps blood through your body, it also pumps that love through every single vein, nerve and cell in it. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It’s something that lies beneath every single movement and action that you make, to the point where you’re not sure if what sustains you are your bones or your love for him.

And that love of course, is interlaced with the pain that comes from watching the one you love hurt. You know that Jason is telling you the truth, that he knows that you’re not going anywhere and that you love him. But there’s this underlying fear in him, an instinct acquired from having lost all the good things in his life, things that he loved, from both his mothers to wearing the Robin mantle, that makes him subconsciously always expect the worst.

That’s why he prolonged you meeting his family for so long.

Without knowing, he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the moment in which the rug will be pulled from under him and he’ll fall into the void. He survived all the previous things, more or less, but he isn’t sure that he would if you were to leave his life.

Because now everything, every single piece of him is rooted in you, like the earth orbiting the sun, the very thing that allows life on the planet in the first place. And that’s what you are to him, a source of warmth, comfort and life. And he’s sure that if he didn’t have that he would crumble. He might technically survive it but he wouldn’t be the same.

But the thing is that just as much as he's rooted in you, you’re rooted to him. He’s the anchor to your boat lost in a storm, the earth to your forever spinning moon. He’s your anchor, your earth, your sun, your everything.

You know that the doubts and insecurities aren’t going to disappear overnight but maybe, together, you two can make them lessen.

“Jason. Look at me,” you say when you open your eyes once again, pulling back slightly so that you can look him square in the eyes. Jason sighs, not wanting the quiet moment, the infinite second in which he can just be in your embrace and forget everything else to end. But then he slowly opens his eyes, showing you his troubled thoughts.

“I love you. So much that I can feel it in every single part of my body. It’s like you’re part of my DNA. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can make me want to leave you. And you’re not going to screw up anything. Call me selfish but I want to be near the things that make me feel strong, like I can achieve anything I want. The things that comfort me when I need it most, that are always there for me, even when I’m not at my best and I feel like a burden.”

Now Jason is the one that shakes his head and wants to refute you but you move your thumb from his cheek to his lips to shush him. “The things that make me feel loved. And you’re the only thing that makes me feel all of that. God knows I have my baggage too and it still amazes me that you understand me, that you want to carry it with me, that you’re proud to do so.”

You take a deep breath. “So no, I’m not leaving. Ever. I’m always going to be here. And I’m very glad that I met Dick, Tim and Damian tonight. They’re nice and they have allowed me to see more of you. And if there's something that I can’t get enough of is you. Okay?”

Jason nods as he leans into the touch of your hand, his eyes bright with love and admiration for you. And then he closes the small distance between you and kisses you, gripping your waist tightly, one hand coming up to hold your face and deepen the kiss. Your hands drop to his shoulders and you don’t waste a single second to kiss him back as fervently as he does. He hasn’t answered to your reassuring words but you don’t need him to. He’s telling you everything you need to know in that kiss.

When his lips first came in contact with yours, he said, Okay.

Where his hands are grabbing your body so tightly but oh so gently, he’s saying, You’re what I treasure most in this world.

And as you stand there in the middle of the living room, being kissed like nothing else exists except you two in this very moment, he’s saying, I love you.

You could have been like that just a couple of minutes or a couple of centuries for all you know, always forgetting the outside world when he kisses you. And when you finally part to catch your breaths, foreheads against each other, your hand softly caressing the hair at the back of his head, the shine in his eyes tells you everything that his lips have just said and more.

Still, he wants to make sure that you’re aware that he isn’t going to let his thoughts eat away at him and so he finally whispers, “Okay.”

“Good,” you whisper back, your hand finding his cheek and caressing it once again. And then you find his lips again, because if there’s one thing that you could spend doing forever without ever growing tired of is kissing him.

And without speaking, your lips tell him something too. Something that he feels as certain as the sun, the moon and the stars.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd fic #Jason todd one shot #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd #Red hood x reader #Red hood fic #Red hood one shot #Red hood imagine #Red hood #Jason todd imagines #Red hood imagines #The Gala #ThreeStarsInLine #Jason todd fluff #Red hood fluff #DC Comics #Batfam #Sometimes I think I'm funny jsjsks

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br0kenangel · 13 days

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 1

Summary: You never thought Aegon be like this. You though that he's probably like all the other rich kids who are only upset because daddy didn't given them money. But you couldn't have been more wrong...

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

He hadn't said a word since entering the room, only slouched low in his chair, his bloodshot eyes tracing patterns in the ceiling like he was watching something she couldn’t see. His bleach-blonde hair was messy, like he hadn't bothered to run a comb through it in days, and the bags under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept in even longer.

The silence was unnerving, and she hated it. The ticking clock in the corner of the room sounded like gunfire in the stillness. She cleared her throat and tried to start professionally. "Aegon," she began, her voice soft but steady, "how are you feeling today?"

He chuckled—a low, grating sound that didn’t reach his eyes. "How am I feeling?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Isn't that a bit cliché? Isn’t that what all therapists ask? I’m not here for small talk, sweetheart."

The way he said sweetheart made her skin crawl. It wasn’t the word itself but the way it slithered off his tongue, sharp and mocking. She shifted in her seat, trying to maintain her calm. "I’m just trying to understand where you’re at. You don't have to say anything you don’t want to."

He smirked, a twisted, unsettling expression that seemed more like a grimace. "Oh, I bet you want to understand me. You think you're gonna fix me? Is that it? Make me better, turn me into a functioning little cog in this shitty world?"

There was an edge to his voice, something dangerous beneath the surface. His eyes were unfocused, distant, as though she wasn’t even there. Y/N felt a chill settle in her chest, but she pushed forward, reminding herself that this was just another patient. A deeply troubled one, yes, but still just a man. She was trained for this.

"I’m not here to fix you, Aegon," she replied carefully. "I’m here to listen and help if I can."

His head snapped toward her so quickly she flinched. He caught it, of course, and his grin widened, predatory now. "You’re scared of me, aren’t you?" he said softly, like he was sharing a secret. "Good. You should be."

Aegon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at her with intensity that made her skin prickle. "You ever felt like nothing matters, doc? Like every fucking thing is just… pointless? No matter how much you drink, snort, or fuck, it never fills that hole inside you. It just… eats at you, every second of every day, until you can't take it anymore."

His voice was a low growl now, rough around the edges, filled with bitterness. "That's what it’s like in here." He tapped the side of his head, his gaze boring into her, daring her to look away. "Rotten. Empty. Dead. I tried to end it once, you know. Got close, too. But they wouldn’t even let me do that right. My family sent me to you instead. So now here I am, playing the part. But let’s be real—you can't fix this."

There was a rawness to his words that cut through her usual defenses. Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of something she didn’t want to fall into. His pain was palpable, but it wasn’t the pain of someone who wanted to be saved.

"You don't have to believe in this process," she finally said, her voice tight. "But it’s important that you give it a chance."

Aegon tilted his head, studying her like she was some puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. His eyes were glassy, unfocused again, and his smile faltered, giving way to something deeper, more sinister. "You’re not like the others," he muttered, almost to himself. "Most of them are easy to read. But you… I can't quite tell if you’re really here to help or if you just like playing the part."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. There was something unnervingly perceptive about him. He wasn’t just a lost soul spiraling into self-destruction—he was calculating, watching her reactions, testing her boundaries. And it was working. She didn’t like how vulnerable she felt under his gaze.

Y/N straightened in her chair, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I’m here to help, Aegon. That’s my job."

He scoffed, leaning back again, dismissive. "Help," he repeated bitterly. "You wanna help? You can't even help yourself."

His words hit harder than she expected, striking at something deep inside her, and for a moment, she faltered. She wasn’t prepared for how sharp he was, how quickly he cut through her professional veneer. There was something primal in the way he spoke, in the way he moved, that felt less like therapy and more like a predator playing with his prey.

"You look tired," he continued, eyes narrowing. "Overworked. You got that hollow look in your eyes, too. Like me. How long before you break, huh? How long before you’re the one on the other side of this desk?"

Her breath hitched slightly, and Aegon’s smile grew wider, more triumphant. He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper that sent chills down her spine. "Maybe we’re not so different after all, doc. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as I am."

Y/N’s hand trembled, and she clenched it into a fist, trying to steady herself. She needed to end this session—now. But she couldn’t show weakness. Not to him. "Our time is almost up," she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "We’ll continue this next week."

She checked the clock. He was due in ten minutes.

Her hand brushed the edge of her desk, fingers drumming a quiet, nervous rhythm. She told herself it would be fine. She had control. This was her space, her field. But the knot in her stomach tightened with every second that passed.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Her heart leapt in her chest.

"Come in" she called, trying to keep her voice steady.

The door swung open, and there he was, leaning casually against the frame, eyes half-lidded like he couldn't be bothered to care about anything. Aegon strolled into the room with an easy arrogance, tossing himself into the chair like he owned the place. He wore the same leather jacket from last week, cigarette burns dotting its sleeve, his jeans ripped and filthy. His disheveled blonde hair caught the afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic glow, which was disturbingly ironic.

"Doc" he greeted, his voice slick and lazy. "Miss me?"

Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze. "Aegon," she said calmly, ignoring his provocations. "How are you feeling today?"

He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled through the room. "Oh, I'm fantastic. Just spent the last few hours getting plastered. Wanna guess how much vodka it takes before you stop feeling like your head is caving in?"

She hesitated. "Did you... did you drink before coming here?"

Aegon gave her a crooked smile, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "Nah, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm sober enough to remember your name. For now."

He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving hers. "But seriously, let's cut the bullshit. You're not here to ask me how I'm doing. You're here to dissect me, right? Get inside my head. See what makes the fucked-up bitch tick."

Y/N's throat tightened at the way he said bitch-dripping with disdain, self-hatred. His family, the Targaryens, were a wealthy, powerful lineage, tied up politics and scandal. She'd heard the rumors: how Aegon was the black sheep, a public embarrassment, the one they all whispered about behind closed doors. It wasn't hard to see why.

"I'm here to help," she said, trying to regain control of the session. "But that only works if you're willing to engage with the process."

His smirk widened. "You think l'm not engaging? l'm sitting right here, aren't I?" He paused, his gaze growing more intense. "Unless what you really want is for me to spill my guts to you. You want to know what makes me tick, doc? Fine. Let me tell you."

There was something unsettling about the way he shifted in his chair, like a predator getting comfortable before striking. His smile faded, replaced with a cold, hollow expression that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I hate everything," he began, his voice flat, detached. "I hate waking up. I hate breathing. I hate the sound of my own fucking voice. I hate this-" He gestured around the room, his fingers trembling slightly."一all this therapy bullshit. I hate my family. I hate the way they look at me like l'm some broken toy they can't fix."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But you know what I really hate? The fact that no matter what I do, nothing makes me feel alive. Drugs? Alcohol? Sex? It's just noise. All of it. And I'm so fucking tired of feeling empty."

His words hung in the air like smoke, choking the room. Y/N felt the urge to recoil, to put some distance between them, but she couldn't. There was something magnetic about him, a dark pull that made it hard to look away.

"You think I want to be here?" he continued, his eyes burning with intensity. "My family dragged me to this fucking place because I tried to put a bullet in my brain last month. They thought therapy would 'fix' me. But they don't get it. They never did."

He leaned back, letting out a bitter laugh. "But you know what's funny? Sitting here, looking at you, I almost want to believe it. l almost want to see if you can figure me out, doc. Maybe you'll crack the code."

His eyes bored into hers, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw something vulnerable flicker behind the mask- something raw and desperate. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cold sneer.

"You think you can handle that?" he asked softly. "Think you can fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed?"

Y/N's grip on her pen tightened. Her throat felt dry, her palms clammy. There was no easy answer to his question, no textbook response to the way he twisted everything around him into chaos. But she knew one thing-Aegon wasn't just here to be saved. He was here to test her, to see how far he could push before she cracked.

"l'm not here to fix you, Aegon,' she said, repeating her earlier sentiment. "But I am here to listen. To understand."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Listen to what? My sob story? Poor little rich boy, drinking and fucking his way through life, all because he's sad? You really think there's anything left to understand?"

Y/N met his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. "I think there's more to you than what you're showing me."

Aegon went still, his smirk vanishing as his eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, it felt like the room shrank, the walls closing in, leaving just the two of them in an uncomfortable silence. He stared at her, unblinking, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like he was peeling back layers she didn't even know existed.

"You really believe that?" he asked quietly, his voice soft for the first time since he walked in. "That there's something worth saving?"

Her chest tightened, but she nodded. "I do."

Aegon let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into fists. His eyes darted to the floor, and for a split second, he looked vulnerable, lost, like a boy drowning in a sea of emotions he couldn't control.

But then the mask was back. The smirk. The mocking tone. "Well, doc" he said, standing up suddenly, towering over her. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his movements confident and careless, as though he hadn't just let her glimpse the broken pieces hidden beneath the surface.

Just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at her. "I'll be seeing you again, doc. And maybe next time, we'll get to the fun stuff."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the room with the heavy silence that always followed him. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her heart pounding in her chest.

There was something deeply unsettling about Aegon一something that made her feel like she was in way over her head.

The third session was different. The air in Y/N’s office felt heavier, thicker. She could sense it the moment Aegon walked in. His eyes, normally sharp with that mocking edge, were duller today. His movements more erratic. The usual arrogant saunter was replaced by something twitchy, unstable. He slouched into his chair, tapping his leg rapidly, the rhythm almost frantic.

His fingers moved to his mouth, picking at his nails, tearing at the skin until she saw faint streaks of red. He didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“Good morning, Aegon,” Y/N began cautiously, watching him closely. “How are you today?”

He snorted but didn’t look at her, his eyes darting around the room like he was searching for something he’d never find. “How do you think I’m feeling?” he muttered, biting down hard on the side of his nail until it cracked and blood welled up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist, but she kept her voice steady. “It seems like you’re on edge today. Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His leg tapped faster, his jaw tight. “Does it even fucking matter?” he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly as he dug his nails into his palms, leaving angry red marks. "None of this shit matters. Not you, not me. It’s all just... noise."

She stayed silent, giving him space to speak, watching his body language as the tension in the room escalated. He was unraveling, fraying at the edges, and it was becoming harder to predict where he might break.

“I keep thinking about that night,” he said suddenly, his voice hollow. “That night I almost did it.”

He didn’t need to explain further; she knew what he meant. The night he tried to take his own life.

“I was this close, you know?” he continued, holding his fingers up to show just how narrow the gap was between life and death. “But then my fucking family showed up and ruined it. Dragged me out of my misery and threw me into this shitshow. Therapy, rehab, whatever else they think will fix me. But nothing’s going to fix me. I’m not broken. I’m just done.”

Y/N swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “Aegon, I know you’re in pain. But there are other ways to cope. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He snapped his gaze to hers, a sudden wildness flashing in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this is about pain. It’s about being fucking empty. Do you know what that feels like? To be so hollow inside that no amount of drugs, booze, or people can fill it?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “I don’t,” she admitted, her voice softer than she intended. “But I’m here to understand. If you’ll let me.”

Aegon’s laughter was bitter, almost manic. “Understand? You think you can understand me? No one understands. Everyone thinks I’m some tragic fucking mess just because I have money and a pretty face, but that’s why they keep coming back, isn’t it? They don’t care if I’m broken. They care because I’m rich, because I’m still good-looking enough for them to pretend for a night that I’m something more.”

He paused, his leg still bouncing, eyes narrowed and locked on hers with unsettling intensity. “Even you. You sit there, all composed and professional, pretending to care. But deep down, I know you don’t. You’re just waiting for your paycheck like the rest of them.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s not true, Aegon. I’m here because I want to help.”

He leaned forward abruptly, his eyes wild and feverish. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this matters! You can’t help me, no one can, and I’m so fucking tired of everyone pretending that you can!”

The energy in the room shifted abruptly. His voice rose, turning sharp and angry, his breathing quickening. She could see him unraveling, could feel the way his entire demeanor was changing—darker, more dangerous.

“I’m not some fucking experiment!” he screamed, his voice cracking as he stood up from his chair so suddenly that it toppled over. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Sitting there with your calm face, acting like you’re not fucking scared of me. But I can see it, I can feel it—”

“Aegon, calm down,” Y/N said, her heart racing, hands instinctively tightening around the arms of her chair. “I’m not trying to control you.”

But her words seemed to push him further over the edge. His face twisted with rage, and before she could react, he lunged toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders, his grip almost painful.

“You think you know me?” he shouted, his face inches from hers, tears welling in his eyes. “You think you can fix me? You think you can save me from this hell?”

His grip tightened, shaking her, but before Y/N could register her own fear, something inside her snapped—an instinct she hadn’t known she had. Instead of pulling away, instead of screaming or trying to push him off, she reached out and pulled him into an embrace.

Aegon froze.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly despite the tremor in her own hands, despite the rapid pounding of her heart. “Aegon,” she whispered, her voice steady even though she felt anything but. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

For a moment, he stood there, tense and unresponsive. His body was rigid, his breathing erratic, and she could feel the anger vibrating through him, threatening to explode again. But then, slowly, something shifted. His hands, which had been gripping her shoulders so tightly, loosened. His body sagged against hers, like all the fight had drained out of him in one overwhelming rush.

“I’m not okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so fucked up, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Y/N tightened her arms around him, feeling his hot, uneven breath against her neck. “You don’t have to stop it alone.”

He let out a choked sob, his body trembling against hers as he broke down, the tears he had been holding back spilling over. He clung to her like a lifeline, his face buried in her shoulder, his breath hitching with each quiet, painful sob.

“I don’t want to be like this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Y/N held him, her own emotions swirling inside her, a mixture of fear, pity, and something else she couldn’t quite name. She stroked his back gently, trying to soothe the storm inside him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you don’t.”

Aegon’s sobs quieted after a while, his grip on her softening but never letting go completely. He pressed his face into her shoulder, his breathing still uneven, but calmer now. The anger and violence had passed, leaving only the raw, vulnerable boy beneath.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours—Aegon clinging to her, and Y/N holding him as if her arms were the only thing tethering him to the world.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. His eyes were red and swollen, his face streaked with tears, and for the first time since they met, she saw him without the mask.

Aegon was broken, but not in the way he pretended to be. Not just a reckless addict or a wealthy, self-destructive mess. He was something else, something much more fragile than she had imagined.

And that scared her more than anything.

He swallowed hard, his voice a quiet rasp. “W-why did you do that?”

Y/N met his gaze, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know why. It was instinct, something she hadn’t planned, something that felt both right and terribly dangerous at the same time.

“Because I wanted to,” she said softly.

Aegon stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to find something—some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance that she wouldn’t leave him like everyone else had.

Finally, he nodded, and without another word, he leaned back into her embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, his breathing evening out as they sat there, together in the quiet, broken pieces of their shared moment.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she was the one trying to save him—or if he was dragging her into the darkness with him.

The room was eerily silent when Aegon walked in this time. The familiar twitch in his leg was absent, the nervous energy that usually radiated off him replaced with something else—something that made Y/N’s skin prickle. His eyes were still as sharp as ever, but now they were focused. Too focused. He looked at her with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.

He sat down slowly, his movements no longer erratic but deliberate. He didn’t fidget, didn’t bite at his nails. Instead, he folded his hands neatly in his lap and leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Good morning, Aegon,” she greeted him cautiously, sensing the shift in his demeanor.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice smoother than she was used to. Calm, almost unnervingly so. He looked... composed. For the first time since they started these sessions, he didn’t seem like a bomb waiting to go off. But something about that felt even more dangerous.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze still locked on hers. “Better,” he said softly. “Much better, actually.”

Y/N hesitated. “That’s good to hear. Do you want to talk about what’s been helping?”

Aegon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve found a new hobby,” he said, his voice almost too casual, like he was talking about something mundane. “Something to keep me... occupied.”

A ripple of unease washed over her. “What kind of hobby?”

Aegon nodded, his eyes gleaming with an odd sort of excitement. “I found this beautiful dove. Just… sitting there, all alone. She's perfect. White feathers, soft. You ever touch a dove before?”

“No,” Y/N said slowly, her stomach beginning to churn.

Aegon’s smile widened. “You should. They’re so fragile, you know? So delicate. It’s like… like holding something that could break if you squeeze too hard.” His fingers twitched, as if mimicking the act of squeezing. “I’ve been taking care of her. Watching her.”

Y/N nodded slowly, unsure where this was going but feeling an icy tendril of dread curl around her spine. “That sounds nice. Taking care of something can be a good way to—”

“I want to rip her wings off.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the casual cruelty in his tone sending a chill down her spine. Aegon’s expression hadn’t changed; he still wore that same unsettling smile.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

His eyes were bright now, shining with an eerie intensity. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About how beautiful she is, but how much better it would be if she couldn’t fly away. If I could keep her with me, forever. If she couldn’t go anywhere else, just… mine.”

Y/N felt the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, keeping her voice steady. “Aegon, that’s—”

“Isn’t that what love is?” he interrupted, his eyes wide, his expression so sincere, so disturbingly genuine. “You love something so much that you can’t stand the thought of it leaving. So you do whatever you have to, to make sure it stays. Even if that means taking something away. Like wings.”

“Aegon, that’s not—”

“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” he continued, his voice rising slightly with excitement, as if he had stumbled upon some great revelation. “Why should something so beautiful get to leave? Why should she get to fly away and leave me behind? She doesn’t need wings. She just needs me.”

Y/N felt the room closing in around her, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She had dealt with disturbed patients before, but this… this was different. Aegon wasn’t just unstable. He was dangerous. She could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze bore into her, in the way his words seemed to twist around her, suffocating her.

It had been two weeks since that conversation in her office, and Aegon had come to every session since. Something had shifted after that day—something subtle but unnerving.

The way he looked at her now, the way he lingered on her every movement, made Y/N feel more vulnerable than ever before.

“Morning, Aegon,” Y/N said, her voice steady but her pulse quickening slightly. She had grown used to reading him in subtle ways—the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would twitch against his leg, and that obsessive stare. But today, it felt heavier.

“Morning sweetheart,” he replied smoothly, his voice quiet but deliberate.

Y/N tried to proceed with the session as usual, asking him questions, probing his thoughts, but his answers were vague, almost detached, as if he wasn’t really interested in discussing himself anymore. He wasn’t playing the part of the tragic, self-destructive mess. He was... different.

“You seem a little more composed today,” Y/N commented, keeping her tone neutral. “How are you feeling about everything? Still feeling as empty as before?”

Aegon’s lips twitched into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Empty? No, not so much anymore.” His gaze was fixed on her in a way that made the room feel smaller. “I’ve been... paying attention to other things lately. Other people.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Other people? What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still glued to hers, but his body language more relaxed than usual. “You know, the people around me. The ones who matter. The ones who actually care.”

There was an implication in his words that sent a shiver down her spine. “And who do you think cares, Aegon?”

His smile widened, but it was the kind of smile that felt wrong, too intimate. “You do.”

Y/N blinked, trying to maintain her composure. She had to remind herself that she was the professional here, that this was her job, and she couldn’t let him get under her skin. But the way he was looking at her made it hard to breathe.

“I’m here to help you, yes,” she replied calmly. “That’s what therapy is about.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were studying her. “That’s not what I mean.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken again. “You care about me... in a different way.”

Y/N felt her skin prickle with unease. She forced herself to remain professional, to push through the growing discomfort. “Aegon, we’ve talked about this before. My role is to help you as your therapist. Nothing more.”

His smile didn’t falter. “You keep saying that, but we both know there’s more to it. I can see the way you look at me now. You’re not scared anymore. What you said. How you held me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You care.”

“I’m here to help,” she repeated firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

Aegon didn’t say anything for a moment. He just watched her, his eyes tracking every movement, every flicker of emotion on her face. It was like he was dissecting her with his gaze, trying to pick her apart piece by piece.

Finally, he leaned forward slightly, his smile fading into something more serious. “You looked really good last night, by the way.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. “What?”

“In your pajamas,” he added, his voice casual, as if he were commenting on the weather. “The ones you wore when you made tea. Light blue, with the little lace trim. You really should wear those more often.”

For a moment, the world around her went silent. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. Aegon was staring at her, unblinking, his expression disturbingly calm, like he had just complimented her on her shoes or her hair.

Her mind raced. How did he know? There was no way he could have seen her last night. Her apartment was on the third floor, and she lived alone. She had made tea before bed, just like every night, but how could he possibly know that?

“Aegon,” she began, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “What... what do you mean?”

He just smiled, that same disturbing smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I just think you looked nice, that’s all.”

The room felt like it was closing in on her, her skin crawling with the weight of his words. Her mind reeled, her heart hammering in her chest. How did he know what I was wearing last night?

Her breath came in shallow gasps, the panic rising in her throat as she tried to process the implications. Had he been watching her? Was he following her outside of their sessions? The thought sent a wave of nausea through her.

“Aegon,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you talking about?”

But before he could answer, the soft chime of the clock signaled the end of their session. Aegon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. He stretched, glancing at her with that same unsettling smile, and then made his way to the door.

“I guess we’ll have to pick this up next time,” he said casually, as if they had been discussing nothing more than the weather.

He paused at the door, turning back to look at her one last time, his eyes lingering on her with that same unnerving intensity. “See you soon, Y/N.”

And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone in the room, her heart racing, her mind spinning with fear and uncertainty.

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long moment, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating, as the weight of his words sank in.

He was watching me.

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

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frenchkisstheabyss · 15 days

Text

♡ Ｔｅａｓｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: dom!boyfriend!bang chan x sub!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluff

♡ Summary: Lately your boyfriend's been spending a bit too much time with his friends and you're beginning to feel ignored so you decide that you'll get his attention by any means necessary. But are you really willing to go through with it and how will Chan react when he realizes exactly what you're up to?

♡ Word Count: 3.3k-ish

♡ Warnings: dom/sub dynamic, jealousy, pet names (baby, good girl, bad girl), kissing, manhandling, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, fingering, spanking, thigh slapping, dirty talk, Chan has a kink for you watching him, and that should be all my darlings.

♡ A/N: I received an anon request for some dom Channie vibes of this variety so here we are. As always, I really hope that I did a good job with this and yes my inbox is indeed open to requests or just stopping by to say hello. Anyway, let me hush up. Hope ya'll enjoy it, babes 💜

You aren’t a brat.

Okay, maybe you are just a little bit, but that doesn’t mean that your frustration with Chan isn’t justified. You get it. His friends are important to him. The time that he spends with them is sacred and you’d never want to do anything to get in the way of that. Chan’s always been good at keeping the balance, hanging with his friends without cutting into how much attention he gives you. But lately that balance has been severely lacking and you can’t help but feel neglected.

With everyone’s schedules opening up, the guys coming over once or twice a week has turned into a nightly event, hardly leaving space for the romance you’re accustomed to. You’ve tried to drop a few hints here and there that you’d like more alone time with him but it seems to fall on deaf ears. Exhausted with trying a gentler approach, you’ve cooked up another way to grab his attention.

You aren’t a brat.

Okay, maybe you are, more than a little bit, but that doesn’t mean that what you’re about to do to Chan isn’t justified.

“Babe, could you bring me a glass of water?” Chan shouts over his shoulder, fingers tapping away at his laptop.

He’d usually get up and get it for himself but he’s too in the zone for that tonight. This is how he gets when he’s working on a song. He spends hours in the bedroom, glued to his desk, frying his retinas with the computer screen.

“Of course, Channie! One sec!” you shout back, your voice sweet enough to make him crack a faint smile. You’re always there for him, always so willing to help with even the smallest tasks. He wonders how he got a girl like you. A sweetheart to the core.

The pitter patter of your feet trails down the hallway and you’re right over his shoulder, setting an ice cold glass of water down on the table for him. “Nice and cold for you” you smile, rustling his messy brown hair.

Without looking, Chan rubs your arm, leaning his head against your soft belly, “Thank you, baby. Oh, before I forget, Bin and Han are coming over tonight. They should be here in, hmm, an hour. Could you just let them in when they get here?”

“That’s totally not a problem. I’ll let them right in” you say, gracing him with a kiss on the top of the head before heading back for the kitchen. Chan’s brain automatically shifts back to the task at hand, determined to apply the last few tweaks to the song before he plays it for the guys.

Stopping yourself before you hit the doorway you turn on your heels, smiling from ear to ear, “Hey, baby, I was gonna order a pizza. Can I grab your card real quick?”

“Hmm?” he asks, processing your request on a delay, “Uh, of course, here.”

Fishing his wallet from the pocket of his sweatpants, he turns to hand it to you and sees something that makes his heart stop. You’re naked. Not fully naked but in his eyes you might as well be. You’re standing in the doorway with the most innocent smile on your face and the skimpiest clothes he’s ever seen you in.

You’re rocking a pair of skin tight shorts that ride your hips deliciously, nearly choking your plush thighs. They’re riding up high enough that there’s simply no way you have panties on underneath them and you definitely don’t.

The crop top you’ve got on barely constitutes a shirt. It’s more of a thin strip of material covering your bare tits, placing your perky nipples at serious risk of popping out. And you’re standing there like it’s nothing, your fluffy breasts nearly bouncing out of your crop top as you skip over to grab his wallet.

His gaze dances over you with a seriousness that has the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “Did you plan on changing or…”

“Changing?” you laugh, filing through his wallet to find his credit card, “Why would I change? Bin and Han basically live here at this point. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

At last getting your hands on his card, you toss the wallet back into his lap and turn to leave but he grabs for you wrist. “You need to change…now” he commands, his jaw tightening. Why you’re acting so oblivious is beyond him but the clock is ticking on his friends’ arrival and he’s in no mood for games. Whatever your issue is you need to get over it quickly before his patience runs out.

“Why should I?” you snap, snatching your arm free of his grasp. The next thing that comes out of your mouth is purely out of bitterness. It shouldn’t be said, you know it the moment you taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but by the time you realize your mistake it’s too late. “Just because you don’t want me anymore doesn’t mean someone else won’t.”

The laptop slams shut, almost making you jump out of your skin. Chan rises to face you, the gentle brown of his eyes darkening as he backs you into the bed. “What did you say?”

“I said that…I said…nothing. I said nothing” you stutter, instantly feeling much less confident in your plan.

“You said ‘Just because you don’t want me anymore’” he repeats, nearly choking on the words himself, “Why would you say that? Why would you ever think for a moment that I don’t want you?”

“Because you barely touch me anymore” you sigh, flopping down on the edge of the bed. You almost crumble at your own admission, hugging yourself for comfort. “Most days you’re too busy on your laptop or with your friends to even look at me and it makes me feel, I don’t know, like you don’t want me anymore.”

Chan kneels down in front of you, taking your hands into his, and you can feel the tension in the room soften. Ignoring you was never his intention. The knowledge that you ever felt unwanted is like a bullet to the heart. He’d gotten so swept up in everything else that he took for granted the fact that you’re always there, right by his side. A mistake he regrets more than anything as he watches tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I do want you. I’ll always want you” he swears, staring into your eyes so that you feel every single word he says. “I love you. You know that, yeah?”

You nod, knowing that, even if he can be annoying, Chan would never bullshit you. That isn’t who he is. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

Chan drops down to his knees, palms clasped together in flawless begging formation, “So give me a chance to make this right, please?” He pokes out his bottom lip, making big brown puppy dog eyes, “Pretty please?”

It’s impossible not to giggle at how cute he is. Only a few minutes ago you were pissed enough to bite his head off, now all you want to do is kiss him. You hate how you can never stay mad at this man but deep down inside you never wanted to be. You only wanted him.

“Ugh, fine” you huff, arms folded across your chest, “But don’t let it happen again, okay?”

Chan inches towards you, his poked out bottom lip ghosting yours, “It will never happen again. Cross my heart. Can I get a smile?”

“No” you refuse, turning your attention to the art on the walls or anything else in the room to distract you from the way that handsome face turns you into a pool of jelly.

“No? You sure?” he asks, pressing his full rosy lips to your neck. That first point of contact gives you goosebumps and you quiver in spite of yourself. Chan kisses his way up your neck, his lips so feathery against your skin that it tickles, shaking that smile right out of you.

Chan wraps his arms around you, biceps flexing as he brings you in closer, “There she is. There’s my girl.”

“Not fair. You cheated” you giggle, wiggling in his grasp. Your attempt at getting away is half hearted at best. You’re right where you want to be.

Chan sprinkles kisses all over your face. Your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, until you’re all wet with kisses and reduced to a giggling mess.

“Oh, wait, I’ve gotta text the guys” he gasps, abruptly rushing back over to the desk and picking his phone up. For a fleeting moment you feel deflated. An entire conversation and his friends are still the first thing on his mind. But as he turns around your fears are immediately put to rest.

“I told them not to come,” he says, tucking his phone into one of the drawers.

You perk up, giddy with joy, “Wait, are you serious?”

Chan hovers over you, taking your squishy cheeks into the palms of his hands. “Of course I am, baby” he coos, beaming down at you, “I can see them whenever but tonight I wanna be with you. I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner.”

“Dinner? Ooh, I have the perfect dress!” You’re ready to rush to the closet and throw together a quick outfit but Chan gently pushes you back down onto the bed, refusing to move an inch out of your way.

There’s a fire in his gaze, like a starving animal who just spotted the most delectable prey. “Were you really gonna wear that in front of them tonight?”

You sit in silence, calculating the answer in your head before you slip up again and say the wrong thing. Technically you hadn’t thought the plan through that far. Would you have actually done it?

“I just wanted to make you a little jealous.”

“Make me jealous when you could’ve just talked to me? That’s not what good girls do, is it?” he scolds, his voice low and stern as he brushes the hair away from your face. Tension floods the room once more, putting you back on edge. He strokes your cheek, tracing it with his thumb, “I want you to lay back.”

“But I…” you stutter, fighting to explain yourself.

Chan leans down, kissing you hungrily, his tongue darting into your mouth to perform a delicate dance with yours. “I said lay back, don’t make me ask again, okay?”

His aggression causes heat to pulse through you, pooling right between your thighs. Not daring to make him ask again, you lay back, propped up on your elbows as you slip all the way back on the bed. Chan watches you closely, on the verge of salivating at how your eager breasts bounce with every movement. “Spread your legs.”

At last you have a definite answer to his question. Were you really gonna wear that tonight? Hell no. How could you wear something like this in front of Bin and Han when you’re dying of shyness in front of a man who's seen you naked a thousand times?

Heart racing, you do as you’re told, bending your knees and spreading your legs open for him. The cool air in the room blows against your core, confirming what you already know. You’re wet, dripping all over these brand new shorts. Chan kneels between your legs, fingers pressing into the fat of your thighs to spread you wider. He licks his lips, a subconscious reaction to seeing the imprint of your perfect pussy lips through the thin material that only gets wetter the more he stares.

Your face is too pretty and innocent for a girl intent on being this slutty. It’s a dynamic that has his cock stiffening behind those black sweatpants. You have no idea the restraint it takes not to drag you to the edge of the bed and fuck you. Everything inside of him is saying to devour you but he needs to play with his food a little bit more first.

“I need you to give me a real answer, baby” he whispers, hooking two fingers beneath the material covering your soaked entrance. He drags his knuckles lightly along your slit and they glide smoothly through your arousal, teasing your twitching core. You throw your head back, pouting cutely as you squeeze your thighs together, desperate for more of that tingling sensation.

Chan forces your legs back open, a palm coming down on your inner thigh, slapping it harshly. “Look at me.”

You wince at the pain, loving it at the same time, and pop your head up to regain eye contact. You can feel your nipples grow rigid, peeking out enough to glimpse as your crop top rides up.

“You aren’t to ever take your eyes off of me. Understood?” Chan says, dragging his knuckles up to brush your tender clit.

“I…I understand” you whine, nails raking the sheets, pleasure rippling through you.

Spreading his fingers, Chan scissors them around your clit, smearing your slick through the warmth of your folds. “Now tell me, were you gonna walk around dressed like this all night?” he asks, rolling your clit between his fingers. The whimpers you let out only encourage him to put more pressure on your clit, the arousal visibly trickling from your core and onto the sheets.

“You were gonna flash them this pretty little cunt, hmm? I thought it was all mine” he says, feigning disappointment. He drags his fingers back down to your entrance, slowly easing them into you until your body’s purring.

“It’s yours. All yours” you moan, biting down on your lip. Your walls are so greedy, eating those fingers right up. It’s been weeks since you felt his touch and it’s nothing short of ecstasy to have his hands on you. Inside of you. You arch your back and your tits pop right out of your top, jiggling sensually as he works you with his fingers.

Chan kisses the inside of your knee, bringing his thumb up to toy with your clit again, “Louder for me, baby. Tell me who you belong to.” He curls his fingers against your cushy walls, his fingertips tapping at your sweet spot. Your body just wants to collapse and let him toy with your needy pussy as much as he wants but you remember the rules. Your eyes are never to leave him. Ever.

“I belong to you, Channie! I’m yours!” you cry out as he picks up the pace, the veins in his arm becoming all the more defined by the force he uses to drive his fingers into your core. Resting your foot on his thigh, you inch over to rub his bulge and he groans, his eyes ready to roll back in his head. He thanks the heavens that his sweatpants are black otherwise you’d have known how hard you had him ages ago.

“What’s mine?” he asks, nearly falling off rhythm from how well you tease his cock. All of the blood rushes from his head to his cock, pushing the band of his sweatpants to its limit.

You clench around his fingers, shifting your hips down further to grind against his hand, “This pussy is yours, Channie. I want you to take it.” Your voice is the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. It’s dripping with enough need that he can’t deny you.

Chan dives face first between your thighs, tearing the flimsy shorts right off of you, and taking a mouthful of your cunt. The slurping sounds are borderline insane. You’re sticky and sweet coating his tongue, nice and warm as you slip down his throat. You squirm beneath him, burying your fingers in his hair, crying out his name as he laps at your pussy.

You do your best, try your absolute hardest, not to look away from him but you can’t keep your eyes from clenching closed. It’s been so long, it feels so fucking good. You’re barely holding onto your sanity let alone maintaining control over your body.

Chan tilts his head up, suckling at your clit, “I guess we don’t wanna listen tonight.” He pulls his mouth away, releasing your clit with a pop.

“Noooo” you whine at the loss, forcing your teary eyes back open, “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t” he sympathizes, rising from the bed to shed his clothing. If there were ever a moment you took your eyes off of him it definitely wouldn’t be now. You didn’t think you could get wetter but seeing your boyfriend standing there naked—muscles on full display, swollen cock dripping arousal between your feet—proves you wrong.

Chan grabs you by the ankles, dragging you right to the edge of the bed, “You just need a little help, that’s all.”

Sandwiching himself between your legs, he aligns the tip with your entrance and grabs you by the chin, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips poke out a tiny bit. “So fucking pretty” he hisses, shuddering at how tight you are when he pops the tip in.

You let out a moan that borders on a whimper and he grins, thrusting into you hard enough that your whole body jiggles from the force. Your eyes squeeze shut and he slaps you on the ass, “Stay with me, baby. I want you to watch what happens to girls who try to make their boyfriends jealous.”

He dips his hips down, switching to an angle even more lethal, and thrusts into you harder this time, bottoming out. Your lids shoot open, glossy eyes wide open as he drills into you. Every stroke of his cock between your gushing walls is like an art, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel so fucking good” he hums, his free hand reaching between your legs to pet your cunt. “I’ll always want you. Always want this gorgeous face and…fuck…this pussy.”

His grip on your face is so tight that your words come out jumbled, only breathy moans escaping your lips. He’s so deep inside of you that you’d swear you could feel it in your stomach, right there where all the tension’s building. Your mind’s spinning, core spasming around his cock. You’re fucked out already, your lids growing heavier and almost closing. Just almost. But you force them back open, taking his cock and following instructions like a…

“Good girl” he coos, rubbing your clit faster and faster. Your body jerks, your hands clasping around his arm, and he knows you’re close. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you gush around this cock.”

Chan lets go of your face, grabbing your plush hips to keep you in place, hips snapping in rhythm with your broken moans. He leans in to plant sloppy open mouthed kisses between your breasts, capturing your mouth with his.

“Channie, I’m…I’m…” you gasp, losing your words as a wave of heat washes over you, leaving you creaming down his length, his thickness stretching your walls to the brink.

Chan snakes his fingers into your hair, forcing you to stick to your word. He watches your eyes as they light up at the release, fighting to stay open then widening again when he spills into you, swelling you up with his cum.

He keeps you just like this, staring into your eyes until you can’t take it anymore and your head falls back in surrender. Rolling off of you, he cuddles up beside you, both of you high enough that you’re floating.

“You’re my favorite person in the world” he says, kissing you sweetly.

“You’re mine too." You crack a weak smile against his lips, “Soooo, did you still wanna grab something to eat?”

“I mean, I already ate” he grins, dipping a finger into your lingering wetness and licking it off, “But I could go for some more.”

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan angst #stray kids angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

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wrr000 · 26 days

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Black Myth!Sun Wukong x mortal!reader - general headcanons

Short and messy romantic headcanons with Wukong. I hope he isn't too ooc, but it's pretty much how I image this version of him(still bratty) and yeahhh, I'm planning to maybe write something more! Currently working on Sun Wukong x OC fanfic and it's the reason why I can't really place my mind on other writings lol

Warnings: english isn’t my first language, short

you two ending up together was really unexpected considering his temper, his ego and even his history, but yep, annoying monkey fell in love with a mortal

sun wukong was a hard nut to crack and it took some time, but eventually you became geniuenly attached to each other

surprisingly, he was the first to realize his feelings for you and the first to confess

but it was the most unique confession you had ever heard. 'i love you'? no, too simple for him

the monkey king told you straight up that he wanted to marry you and bond with you forever

(he fell first, but you fell harder)

in relationship sun wukong was still irritating, but loving and somehow sweet, you two were practically inseparable

he loved the way your skin felt and often tried to find a way to touch you, even just a little bit; it was his love language

it wasn't like he was bad with words, but sometimes talking can be tairing or not enough to show feelings

not to mention that he would do anything for you just to prove how important you were(past mistakes haunts him)

respectful, let's be clear - he lacked tact, but he never wanted you to do anything against your will

wukong was definietly overprotective, no strangers (or those above) could get close to you

he knew that they wanted him to serve again and were regularly killing his kind so why wouldn't they hurt you? that thought was pissing him off even more

you often spent time cuddled up together, doing nothing all day

sometimes he fell asleep in your arms, holding onto you tightly as if you were about to disappear

you were the only one who saw his soft side

#journey to the west #jttw #sun wukong #black myth wukong #black myth wykong x reader #sun wukong x reader #monkey king #jttw sun wukong

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 month

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Ain't What It Is

Benny Cross x reader

Summary: You think you know your boyfriend better than anyone, but when Benny thinks you've cheated, you see a whole new side of him.

Notes/Warnings: angsty-ish, but fluff too. Cursing. Throwing things. Angry Benny. Drinking. Typos.

Words: 1800

Benny Cross Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

He’s home. And as thrilled as you are to see his bike parked in front of the house before midnight on a weekday, you’re just as confused. Excluding weekends, when riding during the day frees up Benny’s nights to give to you, it’s a rarity to see him between the dark hours of eight and three; a pattern so consistent that it’s almost silly to expect anything different.

You knew that when you met Benny. You knew exactly what you were getting into, and because of that, you don’t fault him for staying out late. Riding is important to Benny, it makes up a chunk of his soul, and because the other guys in the club—with their families and day jobs and grown-up responsibilities—can typically only meet after their kids are passed out from a bedtime story and their wives have finished screaming at them for daring to leave the house at such an ungodly hour, you let him be free to enjoy time with the club when he can.

If that time is given to you instead, you’re happy to have him for an entire night. However, now, as you enter through the front door, it’s not what you expected. The house is a pit of darkness; could be abandoned if you didn’t know the space you were stepping into.

“Benny?” you call, flicking on the nearest light. You toss your handbag onto the entryway table and make your way to the kitchen to check the fridge. If he’s already asleep, you hope he at least got to the leftovers you put away for him that he usually scarfs down before he comes to bed.

Turning the corner, you gasp, nearly jumping out of your skin at the shadowed figure sitting at the breakfast table. Your hand flies to your thumping heart.

“Jesus, honey, you scared me,” you breathe out. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

A ray of moonlight streams through the window, surrounding your boyfriend and emphasizing his silhouette. He leans back in the chair and brings a bottle to his lips.

“Have you been drinking? How much? God, please tell me you didn’t ride the bike drunk,” you say. He doesn’t answer.

You sigh and move across the room with the intent to pull the silver chain of the small lamp on your counter—it’s a soft glow that won’t assault his eyes or yours after lingering in pitch black—but a strong hand wraps around your wrist as you pass by.

“Benny, wha–”

Your eyes adjust. You can finally make out his features as he looks up at you, and they’re as dark as the space you occupy. “You messin' around on me?” he asks.

If your eyebrows could lift above your forehead they would. If your jaw could unhinge itself, it’d be on the floor. “What?”

Benny shoots up, chair skidding back on the tile with an awful scraping sound. “Are you fuckin’ someone?” he spits out, leaning into you.

“What do you mean? I’m–”

He drops your wrist and groans, twisting on his heel and running his hand through already messy hair before turning back to you. And you don’t understand, because this, right here, is not your boyfriend. This is not how he acts. Rageful? Yes. One edge? Slightly inebriated? Yes and yes. But accusatory? Hot-tempered with you? Not for a single moment in the course of your time together.

“It’s that prick your ma’s tryin’ to set you up with, isn’t it!” he shouts. “I don’t get why she thinks he’s better than me!”

And then suddenly you know. You catch the anger trying to disguise the twinge of pain in his voice. Pain that is stemming from one thing and one thing only—your Mama’s bullshit.

She’s sly, that woman, and when you and Benny went to her house last week for dinner because you were exhausted of her complaints that she never sees you, who did you find in the seat assigned next to yours but her best friend’s son; a marking director in the city who makes an unnecessary amount of money and who expressed interest in you.

She knew you were bringing Benny. She knew because she requested that you bring Benny. You had plans to spare him the agony of an evening with the woman who hates him for his upbringing and unpredictable lifestyle, but when she asked for him, a glimmer of hope sparked. Maybe she was finally letting it go, turning over a new leaf by allowing your relationship to be your and Benny’s business and no one else’s. But you were so wrong.

An hour and a half of verbal jabs at your boyfriend were evened out by the plethora of compliments she had for her top pick as son-in-law. Benny was a trooper for your sake, but once the words ‘you two would make beautiful babies’ left her wrinkling lips, it was obvious the twig of his restraint was about to snap. And frankly, so was yours.

You took Benny by the hand, stormed out of your childhood home to ride back to your real home, and let Benny claim you however he wanted for the remainder of the night while you praised and soothed and reassured him of your feelings. And you thought those actions and words were enough for Benny to understand where your heart lies, but you’d be lying if you said he hasn’t seemed different over the last seven days.

You release a slow breath, “Honey…”

“So he wears a fuckin’ tie! So what!” His arm whips out and the bottle smashes against the wall, shards sprinkling the floor.

“Benny!”

“What!”

“Calm down!”

In two large steps, his body is looming over yours, your upper arms suddenly wrapped in his large hands, squeezing but not enough to hurt. “I know he ain’t like me, but that don't make him better for ya,” he says. “‘Sides, he can’t love ya like I do, so what do ya want him for?”

And that is the last straw because now you’re insulted. You shimmy your body out of his grasp and he glances down at his empty hands with wide eyes, brows knitted, lips parted as if you had simply vanished.

“I am not messing around!” you snap.

“Then where the fuck ya been tonight?” he demands. “Huh? Ya weren’t here. You’re always here. You’ve never not been here at this time’a night, so what am I supposed to be thinkin’?”

Your arms cross over your chest. Your jaw clenches. Your eyes burn. “Sit down.”

“Baby, you tell me right no–”

“Sit down, Benny!”

His head jerks back at the harshness you rarely exhibit, and though he briefly hesitates, he eventually complies, because you won’t use that tone unless he crosses a line and he knows it, and when you do have to use that tone because he has crossed a line, he knows he loses the things he likes. Sex; your homemade blueberry pie; your willingness to ride with him and go to picnics and bonfires with the club—all of it, for however long you decide. Benny doesn’t like to beg, but in those times, you can take him to his knees.

“Do you know how many nights I spend not knowing exactly where you are or when you’re going to be home?” you ask, bending at the waist until you’re at his eye level. “I knew going into this relationship that that's how things were going to be and I wanted you anyway. I understood how important it is for you to maintain your riding with the club, and I’ve always been happy that you have that. But you don’t know where I am once and suddenly I’m cheating on you?”

You straighten your spine and shake your head. “My cousin called. Needed me to watch her kid. I rang the bar but Joe said you guys were out riding.”

Benny’s huffs. His hand runs down his face, then in one final snippy effort, he says, “Well, you could’a left a note.”

Scoffing, you go over to the fridge and point to the piece of paper that in bright red lettering states: ‘Watching Teddy. I’ll be home late. Love you,” followed by your name and a little heart.

“Try again,” you say.

With that, he seems to sober up, both in his inebriation and attitude. As he should. It’s embarrassing to miss the note written in massive letters in an obnoxious color stuck to the fridge where you always leave notes for one another. In fact, you’re embarrassed for him, and you would tell him so were it not for the kicked-puppy look on his face that drains the irritation from yours.

“You love me,” you say.

Benny sighs. “I know.”

“And you can't trust me?”

He leans forward in his seat, elbows perching on knees and hands scrubbing his face as if it might erase the shame of his accusations. “I do, baby, I just…

You return to his side, and planting your hands on his shoulders, you push him back in the chair to take a seat on his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck.

“My mama doesn’t know what’s good for me if she thinks you're not it, but you can’t be treating me like this,” you tell him. “It's not fair. I don’t sit at home thinking you’re messing around on me.”

Benny’s eyes connect to yours as his hand curls at your waist. “I wouldn’t.”

“I know that,” you say. Your palm cups his scruffy cheek. “And you should know I wouldn’t either, so what happened? It’s not like you to be acting like this.”

He takes a second to collect his thoughts, then replies, “I was ridin’ and I missed you so I cut it short, but when I got home I couldn’t find you. And then I started thinkin’ and…” He shakes his head. “Baby, your ma's said shit before but she never shoved another guy in my face. I don’t give a fuck if she hates me, but– ”

“Benny, honey, there’s no way,” you swear to him, running your thumb over the sharp line of his cheekbone. “I mean, he wears a fucking tie.”

Benny’s lips part, eyes flicking back and forth between yours, before he softly chuckles in relief. His head falls forward, forehead resting on your collarbone. Your skin takes the heat of his heavy breaths, and then you feel the press of his lips. They make a gentle trail from your chest, up your neck, over your chin, before planting firmly on your mouth.

“You're mine. You’re it,” you say when the kiss breaks. “No other man but you, Benny Cross.”

#benny cross #benny cross x reader #benny cross x you #austin butler #the bikeriders #the bikeriders fic #benny cross fic

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starsinthesky5 · 4 months

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quarterback || joe burrow x reader

description: joe is back to doing what he does best, and you cannot get enough of it ;)

a/n: seeing him back out there is a literal dream!! here’s a little something inspired by all the football content we’ve gotten over the past month 🤍 and good lord he looks FINE as hell.

fair warning, i struggled to write a part of the smut (wink wink) so i really hope it isn’t too cringe because it took me a second to write that

warnings: language, smut

word count: 5.5 k

—————————————————————

The sound of Joe’s alarm blared throughout your bedroom early Monday morning, causing you to turn over and pull your covers over your head. It was currently 6 AM, meaning it was too early for anything. You let out a little whine as you felt Joe’s arms snake around your waist and pull your back into his chest. You lifted the gray comforter off your head and turned your head to face him. You were met with his gentle eyes and messy bedhead, looking absolutely precious this early in the morning.

“Joee, it’s early,” you whined. He moved the covers down a little more so that your shoulder was uncovered, pressing light kisses to the soft skin.

“It’s Monday,” he said in between kisses. You were a little dazed and rubbed your eyes to snap the drowsiness out of you, realizing that it was in fact Monday meaning today was Joe’s long-awaited return to being a quarterback.

You turned around onto your side to face him and took a long look at him, taking in every little detail. He was now lying on his stomach, his muscular back on display along with his messy hair. “Back to football,” you smile lazily while raking your hand through his hair, which he had been growing out since the start of the year. It was one of the few changes to his appearance, and you were loving it. It was getting longer in the back and the front, almost mullet-like (similar to what he had in college), but you didn’t say that to him because you didn’t want to jinx it.

You loved Joe’s hair. You loved it at the beginning of the past season even though it ended up looking like a wet mop by the end of the game, and you loved his hair during the end of the season as well, referring to it as ‘prince hair’. This hair might just be your favorite, referring to it as ‘prince hair volume 2’. You loved when he grew his dirty blonde hair out, partly because you loved running your fingers through the strands, but mostly because you loved playing with it during sex.

“Back to football,” he sighs, the smile on his face fading.

“Not excited?” You question.

“Oh, I am, 100%. I miss being out there,” he says as he slides his hand gently across your shoulder.

“Then why do you not look excited?” You softly ask.

“Nerves,” he responds, turning his face into the pillow to hide his telltale eyes. His eyes could always tell you the emotion he was feeling at the moment, thus the reason why he was trying not to let you see. There was no way you were going to let him get in his head again. He’d already done that enough at the end of the last season into the beginning of the off-season and it did not do anyone any good.

“Joseph Lee Burrow,” you begin to lecture.

“Uh oh, full government name never means anything good,” he jokes.

“You have absolutely no reason to be nervous. You have worked your ass off to get better these past few months. I’ve seen it, the public has seen it, the fucking aliens have seen it,” you lecture as you hear a soft laugh come from his lips.

“You came back from what could’ve been a career-ending injury and have killed it in rehab and recovery. You were ahead of all their timetables, no surprise there, but you did that all on your own,” you add, moving your hand to his bare back, sliding it down his muscular frame.

“I’m just nervous about really getting back into it, you know?” He says as he takes his head out of the pillow. “I know I’m better for the most part and I’ve been throwing for a little over a month, but getting back out there with the guys means it’s time to face reality,” he says.

You stay silent as you let him vent to you, which you had ensured he did while he was injured. “I just don’t want things to go south again, this season means a lot. I know what everyone’s been saying and I’ll be playing with a chip on my shoulder. I just don’t wanna lose it,” he says, referring to his reputation, accomplishments, and goals.

“You’re not going to lose it, Joe. If anything, the public and the league will lose their minds over how fucking amazing you are after such a devastating setback. You’re going to kill it today, the next day, and every day after that. Now you know that you need to listen to your body more and not push yourself, which will make a huge difference in how you feel,” you smile.

“I’ve seen you throw and in my unprofessional opinion, it doesn’t look like anything even happened. The team is ready for you, I mean you have 2 giants that are going to be on both sides of you and a whole new class of rookies that I’m sure are ecstatic to be around you,” you giggle.

“It’s time to be quarterback again. You’re ready, trust me, Remember that you are Joe Fucking Burrow,”.

Joe smiled at your little speech. You always knew how to get him out of his head and back down to earth and this was just another example of that. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He mumbles as he turns onto his back and pulls you on top of him, making you let out a little squeal.

“Many, Many, Many times,” you say, moving a little so you were straddling his waist. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you down so that you are just inches from his face. “Well, I love you,” he says again before pulling you closer and seizing your lips in a slow kiss. The grip on your waist tightens as he starts to rock you back and forth. The soft fabric of your shorts was grinding against his black boxers, your core was throbbing with each movement.

“Joe,” you whimpered into the kiss. He pulls you closer while his right hand slides under the fabric of your tank top, his warm hand sliding up and down your bare back. His perfect lips were devouring yours as if he had been starved for days and had just gotten his first morsel of food. He pulls away from your lips and presses open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, eventually moving down to your neck and sucking on the soft skin.

“Mmm,” you moan, feeling Joe’s growing erection and slick lips all over you. You knew where this was leading, and if it were any other morning you’d let it happen. But not today.

You carefully pull away and move off of his hips before it could go any further, he has a look on his face that a child would have if they got candy taken away from them. “Baby, Come back,” he whines.

“Nope. Not right now,” you innocently smile. “You have to get up and get ready and I’m not trying to tire you right before your first day back out there,”.

Joe gets up from the bed and sits upright, “It can be my warmup,” he shrugs, his full bare chest on display sending chills down your spine. Another one of the physical changes Joe had gone through was an increase in weight and muscle, and boy did it pay off. The result was Joe being way bigger than he was before, once again similar to how he looked in college. Not only did it help him with training and recovery, but it also made you even more insatiable around him.

You stare at him for a few seconds, wanting to jump into bed with him more than anything, but you shake your head and snap out of it. “Maybe after you come home,” you tease.

“So like a reward?” He asks.

“Precisely,” you say.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, “I guess I can wait,”. He moves out from the covers and stands up, walking over to you.

“That’s my man,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

You quickly freshen up while Joe gets his things ready, and then you let him take a shower while you pack him a few snacks. You pack him his favorite protein bar, an Orange Mango Body Armour, and a Greek yogurt protein powder muffin you made last night. You open the kitchen drawer, searching for a notepad. You find one and grab your pen, etching a note onto the paper.

I’m beyond proud of you, and I mean it. You have been killing it since you started training again and it’s finally time to remind everyone who the hell you are, and this is step 1. You are amazing in every single way possible. Keep your head up, 9. I love you more than life itself <3

You hear his heavy footsteps descend the stairs and quickly put the note and snacks in his bag and back on the couch where he left it.

You spin around to face him, “You want something to eat? I can make an omelet or something?”.

“It’s okay, I think I’ll grab something at the Facility,”.

“Missing those nasty green smoothies aren’t you?” you chuckle.

“Yes, and they are not nasty,” he says raising his eyebrow as he grabs his water from the fridge.

“Thaaat’s debatable,” you drag out as you stumble towards him. It was almost time for him to head out and you deep down didn’t want him to. It was nice to have him around more than usual and now it was time for him to go back to doing what he does best, which you were obviously excited about. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to curl up on the couch with him for hours doing absolutely nothing productive.

He looks over at the time and sees that he has to head out soon, a little frown appearing on his face. He places his water on the kitchen island and throws out his arm to pull you in for a tight hug. “Mmmm, I don’t want to leave,” he groans.

You wrap your hands around his waist and pull yourself closer to him, “I know,” you mumble against his warm chest. “But the day will pass by and before you know it, you’ll be back home,” you say as you lift your head off of his chest and meet his starry eyes.

“Back home with my mouthwatering girlfriend, hopefully too exhausted to get up from bed because of our extracurricular activities,” he smirks.

“Are you always horny?” you scoff as you pat his chest.

“You left me hangin’,” he says while tilting his head.

“Sorrryyy,” you say, feeling bad as you hide your face in his chest again.

He laughs as his hand moves to the back of your head, softly placing his hand on it. “It’s okay, as long as I get my reward when I get back,”.

You lift your head again from his chest and meet his eyes which were now dark blue and filled with desire. “You got it,”.

Hours Later

You were sitting on the couch reading one of your favorite books before you saw your phone light up. You placed your book down on the couch and grabbed your phone, seeing that it was a text from Joe. A smile creeps up your face as you read his message.

Joe: Thanks for the snacks, I was starvingggg and those muffins are the best things I’ve ever had to date. But most importantly, thank you for that note. Seriously. Your words are so important to me and I don’t know what I would do without your constant encouragement and love. I love you I love you I love youu

You blushed at the repetitive “I love you’s” at the end of the text, and then remembered what you and written on the note to make him act like this

“He must be doing good,” you whisper to yourself as you type up a response, getting a reply from him instantly.

You: I love you ❤️ How’s practice going by the way?

Joe: Really good. Been throwing around a lot today with the guys and worked through some other stuff. They took a bunch of videos for media stuff so that’s something to keep an eye on if you want a peek

You: Is it finally time for more football thirst traps?

Joe: You’re funny

You: Hey? Can you blame me? The increased muscle and the flow you got going on is about to break the internet for the 2nd year in a row. My boyfriend is the definition of sexiness and when he puts on that jersey… Whew, someone has to restrain me

Joe: You’re lucky I’m not at home right now

You: Oh really?

Joe: Yes really.

You were about to type up a teasing response but you got a notification from the Bengal’s Instagram and immediately switched over to see what it was. It was a compilation of Joe throwing today at practice.

You watched as he moved around in slowmo, throwing the ball around to the guys, his luscious hair flopping with every movement. The jersey he was wearing and the compression sleeve showed off his large muscular arms, arms you wish were wrapped around tight you right now. You paid attention to the grip he had on the football, the grip you wished he had on your thighs as right now as he took you to heaven. God, he looked so good right now.

“Fuckkk,” you whispered to yourself, squirming around in your seat, feeling a little horny at the sight of him all sweaty and footbally. He looked mouthwatering and you were regretting letting him leave without a little quickie this morning to satisfy both your cravings. His throws were absolutely amazing in the video, managing to make each one hit his guys perfectly. He really was doing amazing and you couldn’t be more happier to see him back in his true element.

“Ooh, that’s new,” you laughed as you watched him do a backhand pass to one of the guys. The smile on his face made you incredibly excited and at peace, he was going to be just fine.

You switch back over to your texts with Joe, finally typing up a response after taking a few seconds to snap back to your senses.

You: Saw the video and you’re killing it ;) You feel good?

Joe: Oh, I feel greatttt. I’ll feel even better by the time I’m home. Got a lot of energy today

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension through the screen. You needed him badly and this conversation was not helping the situation.

You: I hope sooo. That video has me feeling some feelings that need to be cared for in more ways than just one. Maybe needing some gentle care, maybe a little rough care? Still trying to figure it out.. I think I need some help figuring out what it is

Joe: I’ll be home in an hour

You: Drive Safe ;)

You turned your phone off, throwing it to the side as you threw your head back into the couch pillow. “He’s going to be the death of me,” you giggle before covering your face with your hands.

An Hour Later

You’re sitting at the kitchen island after taking a shower, making sure to scrub everywhere and anywhere with your new Rose Body Scrub, and scrolling through your Instagram feed until you hear the sound of the garage open.

You felt heat rise up your body as you realized he was finally home. You turn off your phone and stand up as you hear the door open and close. Joe walks in, bag in hand, wearing his black sweat shorts and a loose sleeveless white workout shirt. You watch as he places his bag on the floor, takes his shoes off, and walks over to you without saying anything.

He pulls you into him, hands wrapping around your lower back, and lips crashing down onto yours. His lips move against yours at a slow and needy pace, telling you everything you need to know without actually saying anything. His tongue slides into your mouth as his hand moves down to your butt. Your hands slide down his back and under his shirt, running your manicured hands across his soft back. Suddenly, he pulls away and meets your eyes. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with lust and desire once again.

“Do I get my reward now?” He whispers as his hands slowly cup the flesh of your ass.

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you tease as you break away from his grip. “I don’t know if you were quarterback enough today,” you lie, earning a scoff from him, knowing he absolutely was in every single way possible. You slowly walk over to where he dropped his bag on the floor, bending over slowly to grab it and making sure he was watching, and oh he was.

“You and I both know you’re lying through your teeth,” he says as he walks over to you. He picks you up, causing you to let out a squeal, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Put me downn,” you laugh, patting his back.

“Nope. If I remember correctly, it’s time for my promised reward and you apparently are feeling something that needs gentle and rough care. Time to kill two birds with one stone,” he smirks as he walks over to the stairs, still holding onto you over his shoulder, and carrying you up to the bedroom.

He enters the room and gently throws you down onto the silk sheets before ripping his shirt off so that his bare chest is on display. Your eyes move down to his chest, taking in every little detail of his upper body. His big muscular chest was tan from all the sun he’d been getting, his strong veiny arms on display, and that little blonde treasure trail that led down to one of your favorite features of his.

“Like what you see?” He teases as he leans down to hover over you.

“More than you’ll ever know,” you smile as you reach up and pull him down for a kiss. You kiss him hungrily as he starts to fiddle with the strings of your shorts. He unties the knot and slips his fingers into your panties, immediately going down to your wet heat.

“Mm, Joe,” you moan into the kiss as you feel his fingers tease your folds. He continues to kiss you as his fingers enter your core, slowly pumping in and out while his thumb toys with your clit.

You break away from the kiss and throw your head back into the pillow as his fingers pick up the pace, moans, and whimpers leaving your lips as he pushes you towards your pleasure. “Right there,” you moan as he hits your sweet spot. Just as you’re about to reach your high, he pulls his fingers out of your shorts.

“Why’d you stop,” you pant as you lift your head up.

“Because I don’t want you to cum yet,” he nods as he licks his fingers clean of your essence. He pulls down your shorts and panties all in one go and then starts to pull your tank top off, you lift your arms to make it easier for him.

“I wanna take my time,” he says.

“Shouldn’t I be the one making you feel good since this is your reward?” You ask as you unclamp your bra, freeing your breasts as Joe’s eyes travel down to them.

“You are my reward,” he growls, pushing you back down. His lips wrap around your breast, sucking on your nipple. You move your hand into his long hair, pulling at the strands as he continues to suck on your breast. A few sighs leave your lips as he swirls his tongue around the bud. He pressed a few kisses in between them as he moved over to your other breast. His tongue swirled around your bud and the wet kisses sent shivers down your spine.

“You smell so good,” he says in between kisses.

“Joe,” you whimpered as you pulled his head back up to your face. You crashed your lips onto him as you hooked your leg around his body, pulling him closer to you. You could feel his boner through his shorts, only getting bigger by the second.

“Let me take care of that,” you say as you pull away from the kiss, slowly moving you both up.

“But I wanna taste you,” he mumbles as he presses kisses around your collarbone.

An idea suddenly pops into your head. You hadn’t done it in a while, and when you did do it, you both absolutely enjoyed it.

“Wanna kill two birds with one stone?” you echo his words from earlier as you run your fingers across his thigh. He pulls his head out from your neck and looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Are you sure?” he asks, searching your eyes.

“Hell yes,” you giggle as you move out from under him, your body sizzling with desire and anticipation.

A few minutes later, both of you are laying bare against each other. You move yourself further back and he grabs your hips, pulling you right to his face.

“Ohh,” you whimper as you feel his warm tongue lick a stripe across your folds.

You lean down and run your tongue across the tip of his cock, lapping up the pre-cum that was pooling at the tip. You feel Joe groan into your core, sending vibrations all throughout your body. Wet slurping sounds were coming from behind you as breathy moans escaped your lips.

You wrap your soft lips around the tip of his cock, slowly sliding your mouth down, taking him inch by inch. You begin to bob your head up and down as Joe moves to suck on your sensitive clit.

“Joe,” you moan as you pull away, sliding your tongue along the prominent veins. You felt his warm mouth lap at your folds as he rhythmically sucked on your clit, sending you straight to heaven. You took him in your mouth again, this time sucking harder and setting a quick pace.

“Y/N,” he moans against your core. You both are caught up in the heated moment for what feels like hours. He continues to eat you out like a starved man, and you continue to suck him into oblivion. His grip on your hips tightens and you feel him start to buck his hips, a sure sign he was close. You felt tension building in your belly as you felt his tongue slide into your core and his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

A few seconds later, the tension in your belly snaps as you feel a gush of wetness release from your core prompting you to moan around his slick cock. You hear Joe whimper as he laps up your juices, inching closer and closer to his release. You wrap your hand around his cock, sliding it up and down along with your mouth. A few more sucks later, hot spurts of his cum fill your mouth.

“Fuckkk,” he moans behind you. You slide your lips around the tip of his cock, and then licking the sides, lapping up his release before turning around and sitting up so you were straddling him.

“That was so hot,” he smiles as he takes in your disheveled appearance. He runs his big hands along your sides, sliding down to your thighs.

“So hot,” you echo as you move some of his hair out from his eyes.

“Sooo, now that I got the gentle care out of the way, I think it’s time for the rough care,” he says as he flips you over, a squeal leaving your lips.

“Was that not enough,” you giggle as he kisses down your body.

“I think I quarterbacked pretty hard today and deserve a little more than that,” he says moving back up to your face.

“I guess you’re right,” you playfully tease. He presses a kiss to your nose and then to your lips, slowly sucking on your bottom lip as he teased your slick core with his cock. He slowly pushes the tip in, still attacking your mouth with his lips.

“Shit,” you moan into this kiss at the increased pressure down below.

“F- Fuck,” you whimpered as he slid all the way into your core, completely stretching you out with his big cock. He started thrusting into you hard, not giving you a second to collect your thoughts. Your cushiony walls felt like home to him and he couldn’t get enough of it, he needed you.

“You feel so good,” He groaned as he pounded into your heat. He moved his head to the crook of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the side and softly sucking on the skin. He moved deeper and deeper into your core with each thrust, sending your hips further into the bed.

“Joe, I-” you begin to say but are interrupted by a moan as Joe’s cock grazes your G-spot. “Ohhh,”.

He uses his hand and lifts one of your legs, causing your knee to bend, and allowing him to thrust deeper into you. “Joe!” you screamed as you felt him hit your G-spot.

“Right there?” he smirked.

“Yeah,” you moaned as you closed your eyes, the pleasure becoming too much for you. “Right there,” you whispered. You felt as if you were floating on a cloud as your boyfriend continued to pleasure you in every single way possible.

“You’re so wet,” he groans as he continues to thrust into you. Sounds of your skin slapping against his fill the room, a pleasant sound that signifies that whatever was happening inside the room made you both feel good.

“Joe, Fuck me harder,” you whimpered as you opened your eyes, your arms flying to the side as you were being pushed into the mattress. He was balls deep inside of you right now, and you were loving every second of it.

He drops your leg and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he thrusts into you faster and harder, causing your breasts to shake with every thrust. Joe leans down and licks a stripe across your nipple, sending chills down your body at the cool air hitting the wet skin.

“Baby,” you moaned as the pleasure was building in your belly.

The intense pleasure you were feeling right now was your favorite feeling in the entire world. Joe was so good to you and you were so good to him. The sounds that left your mouth and the feeling of you beneath him would often send him into overdrive. All he wanted to do was make you feel good, and you wanted to do the same for him. He was the only man that would ever see you like this and you were all his. He grinned at the moans and little noises leaving your lips as he sent you to heaven.

You begin to buck your hips up into his, matching the pace of his quick thrusts. He moves his hand down to your waist, gripping you tightly, a bruise surely to form there later. His thrusts start to become more erratic, a sign that he was close.

“Y/N..” he moaned.

You moved your hands to cup his back, helping him move against you and guiding his thrusts. Each stroke hits every pleasure point, causing ecstasy to course through your veins. “Baby, I’m close,” he groans.

“Fuck, me too,” you whisper. Your legs were starting to shake from his thrusts and your body started to become sore, but the pleasure in your belly only getting stronger by the second. A few well-placed and rough thrusts later, you felt the warmth of his release fill you, his head dropping down to your neck as he panted sweet nothings into your ear.

"You're so good. Fuck, I love you," he panted.

“Mpmh,” you whined as you were so close to letting go, your hands scratching the soft skin of his muscular back. Joe lifted his head from your neck, realizing you hadn’t come yet, and went back to snapping his hips against yours. How was he not tired yet? I mean, it really shouldn't be surprising considering his stamina. He can go for hours and hours if he feels like it.

He moved one hand down to your incredibly wet lower half and played with your clit. “Cum for me baby, you can do it,” he said as he pounded into you. The pressure in your belly was building up, but it was a feeling different than any other orgasm. This one felt strong, and a little painful, but also caused your stomach to flutter. “J- Joe, I-” you moan as you start to arch your back. “I- I can’t,” you whimpered.

“Yes, you can. I’ve got you,” he soothes, moving down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

A few seconds later, you felt the band in your belly snap hard. The result was you releasing all over the lower half of both your bodies and onto the bed.

“Oh my god, Joe,” you moaned as you fell back against the sheets, throwing your head to the side, a smile creeping up on your face as you felt your extreme high. Now you really felt like you were on a cloud and the room was spinning. He uses his hand to turn your face to meet his, and his lips crash down onto yours in a delicate yet passionate kiss. He pulls away, a huge smirk on his face as he was taking in your fucked out expression, feeling satisfied that he could make you feel like this.

“Now that was hot,” he laughed.

“It’s been a minute since that happened,” you pant, your eyes fluttering as you were trying to regain your senses.

“I’m so glad it did,” he chuckles as he slowly pulls out of you, both of your releases dripping down your inner thigh. You hiss at the loss of contact but Joe presses a kiss to your cheek to ease any discomfort. He walks over to the bathroom to grab a towel and makes his way back to you. He cleans you up before picking you up and placing you on the comfy chair next to the windows so he can change the sheets. Then he walks into the closet and hands you one of his big t-shirts to slip on while he slips on a pair of shorts. He then digs through the drawer and pulls out 2 Tylenol tablets and a bottle of water from the mini-fridge for you.

You smile at his sweet gestures as you slip on the comfy shirt. Only he could be so soft and affectionate after completely re-arranging your guts.

A couple of minutes later, you both are back in bed, lying against the fresh sheets and wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Was that gentle & rough enough for you,” Joe teases.

“Oh, 100%. I don’t think I can move, you beat it up gooood this time,” you lazily giggle. “I’m surprised you’re so awake right now. You weren’t kidding about having a lot of energy today,”.

“I feel good. Hell, I feel fucking amazing,” he says, squeezing your shoulder. “Today was really good and being back out there feels incredible,”.

You look up at him and see his hopeful and excited facial expression. You felt so proud of him and so happy that things were going back to normal. The past few months were tough, but today, by the sounds of it, felt like a fresh start for him.

“That’s really great Joe. I’m so proud of you,” you say as you press a kiss to his bare chest.

“Thanks for the reward by the way,” he says.

“Please, even if you sat out today or missed all of your throws, I still would’ve pounced on you. Nothing can keep me away from my own personal 6’4 bundle of sexiness,” you teased.

“Good to know in case things go south again. At least you'll still want me if I fail,” he jokes.

“Hey, that is not funny,” you say, looking back up at him with a solemn face.

“I’m just playin’. I think we can save the repeat of your speech from this morning for another day,” he laughs.

“Good. I’m too tired to lecture your ass,” you sigh.

“I’m feeling it now too,” he yawns.

“You should be. You did most of the work tonight,” you say as you hook your leg over his hips so that you are straddling him again. His arms wrapped around your lower back, holding you close against him. You tuck your head under his chin and let out a content sigh.

“And that’s perfectly fine. I owe you for all those times when I couldn’t move my wrist because of that big ass cast,”.

“Well, I’m just glad that we don’t have to ever deal with that again,” you say.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your head. “Wait, you still didn’t answer my question from earlier,”.

“Hm?” you question.

“Was I quarterback enough today?” he asks.

You turn your face to look up at him. “Absolutely. In every single way possible. From the jersey to the thirst trap pics, the throws, the smile on your face, not to mention that stamina in bed. Yeah, you were quarterback enough today,” you smile.

His deep blue eyes were filled with love as he listened to you talk. Everything was going as planned now that he was back on the field, and he could see how relaxed and happy that made you.

“I love you,” he says, hugging you tighter. "So, So, So, Much," he says, pressing a kiss to your head each time he says 'so'.

“I love you, quarterback,”.

–The End–

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

624 notes · View notes

thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year

Text

come clean

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you're already in the shower

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, language, getting together, slow buildup, jackson era, smut, handjob, f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected piv, rough sex, shower sex, size kink

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this one goes out to emotional support daydreams! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated. hope y'all enjoy 💕

Joel’s having a rough day. It’s late, and he’s bone-tired and covered in…well, he’s not really sure what he’s covered in. Mud and bits of dead grass, definitely, but there's splotches of red on his jeans, too. He couldn’t tell you whether it’s his blood or something else’s—the adrenaline still hasn’t completely worn off, so it’s entirely possible he’s not feeling the full extent of his injuries yet.

His day hadn’t started that badly, but it wasn’t a typical morning, either. Maria had stopped him and Tommy at the gate to ask if they'd mind checking out a situation at the dam instead of patrolling their usual route.

Apparently, some of the machinery was acting up and the only person she trusted to oversee the repairs was Tommy. She honestly hadn't given much thought to Joel's part in all of it—their relationship is still pretty tense, even after his return to Jackson, so he was just along for the ride.

Things went downhill fast after they arrived at their destination. No one's really sure how the infected got into the facility, but it was a lucky thing Joel was there after all. With the help of a few guards, they were able to dispatch everything in and around the building without any bites or serious injuries but, boy, did they make a serious mess. Of the facility and the machinery they were supposed to help fix, and of Joel.

So now here he is, exhausted and dirty, getting shit from his kid when all he wants to do is get clean and take a fucking nap.

“Ew, gross,” Ellie groans, clearly not giving two shits about how badly Joel’s day is going or how little she’s helping right now. She had the day off and is somehow still watching movies in the same spot he left her in this morning. “Stop touching things! You’re getting shit everywhere.”

He ignores her and shrugs off his coat, walking into the living room to toss it over the back of his recliner, but she throws him a dirty look that stops him in his tracks.

"Whatever, m'gettin’ in the shower," he grunts, dropping it on the doormat instead. He'll probably have to burn that coat anyway if the stains and…odor are anything to go by.

"Uhhhh, no, actually you're not," she says matter-of-factly, and he raises his eyebrows, eyeing her expectantly when she doesn't elaborate.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Did your hearing get worse or something? Shower's already on,” she nods toward the stairs. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice the sound of running water filtering down from the second floor earlier, but now he’s annoyed that he can’t shower and that she might actually be right about his hearing.

"Well then, I'm waitin' here," he sasses back, taking a seat on the recliner with zero regard to the upholstery.

"Dude!" She’s starting to look as exasperated as he feels. And her reaction isn’t unwarranted. If he touches literally anything in this living room, they’ll probably have to burn it, too.

"Fine, fine, m'not touchin' anythin'," he stands back up, holding his hands up in surrender. "How long's she been in there?"

"Like, five minutes. Probably gonna be a while, knowing her,” she replies with an amused grin. Oh, so she thinks this is funny.

"The fuck do ya expect me to do then, stand here ‘til she's out?" He asks as if it’s not exactly what he’s been doing the entire time they’ve been having this conversation.

"As long as you don't sit on any of the furniture, I don't really give a shit what you do," she shrugs.

He rolls his eyes at her, running a hand down his face in frustration. He’s just about to give up and hose himself down in the yard when she finally offers a solution.

"You could just knock and see if she'll swap out with you. She basically just got in, anyway."

“Y’know what, I think I will,” he grumbles, heading upstairs to the bathroom and leaving Ellie to her shitty 90s sci-fi thriller. She shakes her head, laughing as she slips on her headphones.

“Don’t be too loud up there!”

But with his bad ears, he doesn’t hear her.

God, you needed this shower so badly. It's been a rough day, to say the least, and it’s finally time to get the relaxation you deserve. You got saddled with an extra patrol shift because two of the usual guys had a last-minute change of assignment, and it turned a typical day into an unbelievably exhausting one.

But tonight you got lucky. There was no one around to use up all of the hot water besides Ellie, who’s been glued to the TV all day, and you miraculously got home before Joel. So tonight, you get to enjoy the expensive bottle of shampoo you found at some fancy store in some fancy mall last month, and let yourself forget for a while that there’s fucking fungus monsters out there eating people.

That is—until someone knocks on the door and ends your perfect evening before it begins. Now you’ve got soap in your eyes, and you’re slightly worried because Ellie either needs something from the bathroom or the house is on fire. There’s never an in-between with her.

“Ellie? Everything okay?” you call out, really hoping it’s not the latter.

The voice that responds is muffled and decidedly much deeper than Ellie’s, and you’re momentarily taken off guard before you realize it’s not a burglar. It’s Joel—of course, it’s Joel. He probably got off his shift late and wants to clean up, and now you feel bad for making him wait and using up all the hot water.

You can’t really hear what he’s saying over the shower, so you slide the curtain open to poke your head out. “What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

He tries to answer you again, or at least you think he does, but you still can’t make him out, so you tell him to come inside. The door only opens a crack, but it's so quick that there's no time to duck behind the curtain before Joel's face appears and you're both staring at each other blankly.

“…Hi,” you breathe out, praying it’s just your head and not the rest of your body peeking out. “So, um, what were you saying?”

He looks a little embarrassed and it’s adorable, but the thought only crosses your mind for a split second before you notice the rest of him. He’s—there’s really no nice way to say this, but he looks revolting.

There’s dirt everywhere. Matted in his hair, under his fingernails, all over his clothes. It looks like he’s been rolling around on the ground all day, and honestly, maybe he has. He’s also got…gross, is that a chunk of…? Nope. It looks like someone exploded in his face, and he needs a shower. Badly.

The only problem is you’re covered head-to-toe in soap, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only got about 15 minutes of hot water left.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry to barge in on ya,” he mumbles, looking pointedly away from you. “I came up here to see if you wouldn’t mind pausin’ your shower for a bit, but I, uh…can see that’s gonna be a little difficult.”

You look down at yourself and, yeah, he’s right. You’re dripping water and soap all over the floor. Getting out now would be a pain in the ass, but he also really needs to get in.

“No, no. It’s totally fine! It makes way more sense for me to sit around soapy than for you to, um, stand around like that,” you reason. It’s his turn to look down at himself, and he grimaces. “Just turn around for a sec and we can swap.”

He nods, still looking sheepish, but grateful.

You duck back into the shower to shut the water off and gather up your toiletries to make room for his. You’ve already shoved half of your stuff to one side before you realize it was probably just a waste of time because there was already plenty of space—and that's when it dawns on you.

This stall is pretty big—as far as showers go, anyway. There's no reason you can't both fit in here at the same time. It's also not like he's never seen you naked before. You joined up with Joel and Ellie long before running water was in the picture, so you've had your fair share of awkward bathing encounters. Really, it's just a matter of whether or not he'll go for it.

You pop your head back out, taking a second to admire those strong, broad shoulders of his before getting his attention. Damn, he's a real catch. Hot and respectful. But seriously, he's so disgusting right now and it would be a shame to allow that to continue.

"Hey, Joel," you start, and he glances back carefully over his shoulder. You hesitate for a beat before continuing, “So, hear me out—what if we just…if we both showered…at the same time…”

He looks confused, and you realize how badly you botched that entire sentence. Okay, so talking around it didn't work. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before trying again.

"Just—just get in with me," you say softly. "We can shower together."

His brow furrows, eyes unreadable. He looks like he might be thinking it over, but his silence isn't exactly the most encouraging reaction in the world. Subconsciously, you hold your breath while you wait for an answer.

There’s no way he’s going to go for this, is there? It’s Joel. He can barely look at you in a tank top without blushing, let alone wet and naked. You’re not even sure why you bothered asking. It was clearly a dumb—

“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” he nods, turning back to you fully, and you swear he’s looking at you differently. That's…not what you were expecting. Not that you're complaining in the slightest. He's not even trying to hide his eagerness, and you're starting to think maybe he was waiting for you to ask all along.

"Well, come on in, cowboy."

Joel undresses slowly, eyeing what little of you he can see greedily, and it makes your cheeks burn. It’s like he can’t look away—from your eyes and lips, your collarbone. Even the tiny droplets of water that fall from your hair. It feels more intimate than any moment you’ve ever shared with Joel, and he hasn’t even touched you. Yet, hopefully.

You’re getting impatient. He's making a show of stripping down and it's taking everything you have not to get out of the shower and rip all of his clothes off yourself. His fingers are so thick, and more and more of his tanned, weather-worn skin is exposed to you as they work to unbutton his shirt.

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling at this point, imagining those fingers sinking deep inside you before you can stop yourself. Fuck, you're pent up. And should probably have a lot more shame, but now he's unzipping his jeans, and you feel like you're about to combust.

You let out a pained noise without meaning to and he chuckles, shaking his head as he picks up the pace. "I'm comin', I'm comin'," he teases, dropping his pants to the floor. "Why don't you get the water goin' for me?"

Now you're the one having trouble looking away. Damn, who even is this guy? He’s nothing like the Joel you’ve known for years, and definitely not the Joel who stepped into this bathroom ten minutes ago. If you'd known it would go like this, you would’ve invited him to shower with you a long time ago.

He’s down to just his boxers now, and maybe it's wishful thinking, but he looks like he’s already hard. Swallowing is suddenly extremely difficult, so you shoot him one last appreciative look before doing what he asked.

You turn the water back on and it’s still pleasurably warm as it rains down onto your tense shoulders. The steady pressure soothes some of the nerves while you wait for him to join you, but you’re so caught up in the moment that you don't notice the curtain opening.

"Scoot over," he murmurs behind you, his breath fanning out over the back of your neck. He’s close, so much closer than you expected him to be. You assumed you’d be dancing around each other for at least a little while longer, but it seems like Joel knows exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the shower.

He reaches around you to grab that expensive bottle of shampoo you’ve been looking forward to, his fingers grazing your bare skin, and you shiver despite the heat of the water.

“Or you could stay right here,” he says, even closer now, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We could help each other out—with washin’ up, I mean.”

You inhale shakily, your reply getting caught in your throat. “Y-yes—yeah, yes…we should definitely do that,” you breathe out.

He chuckles and the sound is surprisingly affectionate. It gives you hope that this won’t just be a one-time thing. That after all this time, he wants you as much as you want him.

You’re the first to initiate physical contact, reaching back to bury your fingers in his hair which, in retrospect, turns out to be a terrible idea. He’s still filthy, and your fingers get caught in tangles and dirt and…probably a lot of other nasty shit you don’t want to think about.

You snort out a laugh, turning around to face him. “I think you’re up first, handsome.”

The corners of his mouth tip up as he nods, and you can’t resist the urge to reach up and trace his bottom lip with your thumb. He kisses the pad of your finger, and you wish so badly that it was your lips.

For the second time tonight, you’re feeling incredibly impatient. You want to feel more of him, let him press you up against the wall and kiss you, touch you the way you both want him to, but it’ll have to wait.

You pluck the bottle from his hands and squeeze a huge dollop into your palm, telling him to turn around with a small smile. His eyes drop to the quirk of your lips for a moment too long before he obliges, and you’re starting to realize he’s getting impatient, too.

You reach up to thread your fingers into his graying hair and, somehow, the strands still feel soft despite everything tangled up in them. It’s going to take a decent amount of scrubbing before it’s back to its normal, fluffy state of disarray, but you’ll make it feel good for him. A little taste of what's to come.

He tips his head back as you massage in the shampoo, letting out the softest groan when your fingernails scratch along his scalp, and you have to press your thighs together to relieve the growing ache in your core. You’re not going to make it through this shower if he keeps making noises like that. But, of course, he does, and they're getting louder.

You can feel his body starting to respond to yours, too. It’s a little cruel how you’re purposely working him up, sliding a washcloth over his shoulders and across his back, letting your fingers skim teasingly over his skin as you stretch your arms around him to reach his front.

His stomach flexes under your palm, and he inhales sharply as your hardened nipples graze across his back. You continue your path down, running your fingers through the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and his hips jerk forward, seeking the friction you so desperately want to provide. He's panting, and you're both having a difficult time holding yourselves back.

Brown and red swirl in the water around your feet and down the drain, and it's enough to tell you that he's finally clean. And that you can finally touch him the way you want to.

Pressing yourself firmly against his back, you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock and he feels huge in your hand, rock hard and pulsing with his racing heartbeat. You pump him a few times, giving him a firm squeeze at the base, and he keens, already leaking all over himself.

He braces a hand on your hip to steady himself as you trail open-mouthed kisses down his spine, digging his fingers in roughly when you slowly start to jerk him off in earnest.

"T-that's it, pretty girl—,” he pants heavily, eyes dropping down to watch you work him, and you twist your wrist up on the next stroke, thumbing over his head. "Keep goin', just like that."

You whimper damply against his skin at the pet name, feeling a pleasurable whoosh in your belly as your cunt drips pathetically down your thighs. The throbbing between your legs is almost unbearable, but you don't want to let him go, not when his hips are meeting your fist so fucking desperately. You wedge a hand between your bodies, slipping it lower and lower until your fingers rub against your slick folds, gathering some of the wetness to rub soothing circles into your clit.

“I got you, I got you,” you moan at the sudden relief. Your caresses start to match his thrusts, and soon he's trembling in your arms, whimpering like he'll cum any second if you let him. You rub your cheek tenderly against his back, murmuring soft, encouraging words into his heated skin.

"You're doing so, so well," you tell him, and he seizes up at the praise, chest heaving as you focus your attention closer to the tip. "You wanna cum or are you gonna wait for me? Want you to fill me up…can you do that for me?"

For a second, you think your words might've thrown him over the edge, his hips stuttering against your palm even as you slow your movements. But he's still clearly fighting the urge to cum, and that has to mean he wants to fuck you badly.

His hand shakes as it lifts to wrap around yours, guiding you down to squeeze the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm, but you're not making it easy for him. You barely notice your other hand still working your pussy, too turned on to realize you've started pumping two fingers in and out of yourself.

Joel notices, though. Something that sounds almost animalistic tears its way out of his chest as he turns on you, snatching your hand out of your cunt and slamming it against the shower wall. Your fingers are shiny and glistening with your wetness and he leans forward to suck each of them into his mouth, groaning at your taste on his tongue.

The look on his face makes it seem like you're the best meal he's ever had, and you feel a strong, sudden urge to have his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. He pulls off your middle finger with an audible pop, and then you're crashing your lips into his, immediately licking into him.

God, why do you taste so good in his mouth? It's salty and heady, and really shouldn't be as hot as it is, but you can't bring yourself to care as his tongue tangles with yours. You feel two—shit, no, it’s three—of his fingers slip into you, and, holy fuck, they're so much bigger than yours. You're already so full and they feel even thicker at the base, nudging a spot that makes you see stars.

There's no way his cock is going to fit inside you…right? But the thought of him trying anyway almost makes you cum on the spot. Another wave of heat crashes through you and your walls convulse around him, pussy gushing down his fingers, and he abruptly breaks away from your lips, groaning lowly, desperately.

"Fuck, I-I need—shit, I need to fuck you, pretty girl," he twitches against you, leaking a glob of precum as he ruts into your belly. “M'gonna fill ya up real good, just like you wanted—," and you gasp, clamping down on his fingers one more time before he's pulling them out and hauling you into his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he shoves you higher up the wall.

His hands roam your skin hungrily before eventually settling under the soft swell of your ass, holding you up as he slicks up his cock between your folds. Every time the tip catches your clit, your hips buck clean off the wall and he presses into you harder to keep you in place. You bury your face in his neck, thighs squeezing into his sides.

"S'not gonna fit," you slur, a little drunk off how good he feels between your legs. The next time his hips buck forward, the blunt head of his cock catches your entrance. "J-Joel—ngh…Joel, s'too big, you have to make it fit, please."

And that's when his patience runs out.

He sheathes himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust, growling roughly into your hair, and the stretch is mind-numbing. He stays deep, letting you adjust to the feeling of being split open, and his head drops to your shoulder. His eyes are locked on where you're joined, your pussy stretched around him almost obscenely.

"Would'ja look at that," he mumbles to himself, rocking in and out slowly as he turns his head to suck a bruise into your collarbone. You reach a hand down curiously, wanting to feel yourself around him, and your jaw drops when your fingers brush where his thickness is forcing your cunt to yield to him. "Knew you could take me…pussy feels s-so fuckin' good, like you were made for me."

You whine pathetically as the ache starts to subside and the need for him to fuck you becomes overwhelming. Pleasure blooms where he's already grazing that heavenly spot again, and you tug his head back by his hair, bringing his attention back up to you.

Everything pauses, just for a moment. You kiss his lips delicately, so much more delicate than he's about to be with your body but, right now, you need him to know that it's more than this for you. More than the sex and the physical intimacy. And the way he kisses you back reassures you beyond a doubt that it's more than this for him, too.

Then, your patience runs out.

"Joel, move."

And suddenly, he's spearing up into that spot deep inside you with reckless abandon, bouncing you on his cock, and you're not entirely sure, but you might actually be screaming.

Your head lolls back, thudding dully against the wall, and he ducks down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue circling the nub as he continues you work you up and down his shaft. The sound your pussy's making around him should be humiliating, but it only spurs him on, the wet squelching echoing loudly over the running water.

"Hear that? That's all you, baby. So fuckin' wet, look at that," and he's watching himself again in awe as he fucks in and out of you. You follow his gaze and, holy shit, he's not kidding. You're absolutely soaking him. "You look so good like this, so goddamn pretty stretched around my cock."

You still haven't completely acclimated to how thick he is, not sure you ever actually will, and the syrupy-sweet pain of him has you clawing at his back. You use the wall as leverage, arching just enough so you can actively meet his thrusts, and the new angle sends you reeling.

"Feels so…full, so full," you gasp, your back inching higher up the wall with the force of his thrusts. "K-keep going…there, Joel, there."

It's not just that one spot he's hitting anymore—fuck, it feels like he's everywhere. The ridge of his cock is rubbing your walls just right and every other thrust fucks deep enough to graze your cervix. You sob at the onslaught of overpowering pleasure, burying your hands in his hair to tether yourself as your brain begins to fizzle.

Just a little more, you only need a little bit more. You can feel the lower half of your body locking down and, as if he can sense exactly what you need, he grinds his cock in as deep as it'll go.

"That's it, baby. C'mon, give it to me," he grits against your throat. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' tight, you're almost there."

The coarse hairs at the base of his cock scrape roughly and a little painfully against your swollen clit as you rock against him, but the slide is still so slick and raw that your thighs begin to quake around his waist, and it's—fuck, it's so…so…

"M'gonna fucking cum—gonna…oh fuck, fuck, Joel," your lips part around what you pray is a silent scream and your body goes rigid, cunt spasming violently around him.

He chokes out a moan as you clamp down impossibly tighter on his cock. "Fuckin' hell, there we go," he rasps out shakily as he fucks you into the wall blindingly hard, letting you ride him through your orgasm.

"So, s-so good. Feels so fuckin' good," he's starting to mumble to himself deliriously, squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise. You whimper helplessly as his thrusts get sloppier and more desperate, "Gonna fill you up 'til it's leakin' out…c-can I, pretty girl? Please…bet you'd look so fuckin' good with my cum spillin' out of you—"

Before you can even answer, you feel him throb and then his entire body stills, his cock visibly pulsing as he empties into you. He moans his way through it, his head dropping to your shoulder again to watch himself pump you full of cum just like he said he would.

If you thought you felt full before, it's nothing compared to how you feel right now. He's still so deep, twitching pathetically inside you as he lifts his head to nose at the underside of your jaw. He presses a soft kiss there and you sigh, wrapping your arms and legs around him tighter.

"Christ, Joel, where did that come from?" you rasp out. He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling his hips into your sensitive clit. Your pussy flutters around him and his breath hitches, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. He still hasn't pulled out and you have a feeling he doesn't want to.

"Been waitin' a long time for that," he murmurs, meeting your eyes. You smile softly, and your lips command his attention. "Waited a long time for you."

So full of surprises tonight. You’ve traveled with him for years, settled down with your kid, but you never expected this. For him to finally feel the same way you do, to fuck you like that. You’re suddenly extremely thankful he came home in dire need of a shower.

You run your hands up his chest, settling one on his shoulder and burying the other in his hair. The dirt, the grime—it's all gone now, replaced by your release and the sweat of your exertion. He smells so good, just like your fancy shampoo. Just like home.

You lean in to kiss him deeply and he melts into you, his lips soft and warm against yours. When you part, you're met with that look again. The one he gave you after you asked him to shower with you, and that he hasn't stopped giving you since. Like he's observing you, contemplating you.

You recognize it now—it's hope.

"I've been waiting a long time for you too, Joel."

He kisses you again, holding you close as the water goes ice cold.

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 11 months

Text

Pairing: Astarion x reader

Prompt: In which you couldn't convince Astarion not to become the Vampire ascendant, but still do not allow him to do the ritual.

Description: You really did fall so hard, and so, so fast. No wonder when the ground came to meet you did it hurt just as much. But perhaps its not too late to stand back up again, if someone was willing to lend a hand.

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3018

Notes: I had to save scum this so much on my file that was romancing him. And well I be thinking about him a lot lately... I litterally have no idea where these words came from btw so I hope u enjoy them!

“It’s over,” Said with such disdain, such pain and hurt, directed your way. “I’m done with this, and I’m done with you.” Venom, dripping and cold. What happened to the warmth in those eyes? To the love that once shown in them, when he looked your way? “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.” He looked so broken, so hurt.

You hardly remembered what came next, beyond your own tears. Astarion simply… left. Walk away as you crumpled to the ground, in disbelief. As you begged him to say. When you told him, over and over again, that you loved him.

Karlach and Shadowheart must have dragged you out of those dungeons, otherwise you might still be there, wallowing in your pity. You don’t remember how long it had been since then. Since you had stopped Cazador from ascending, freed Astarion from his grasp… and tried to convince him not to ascend himself. Your words may have failed, but your actions didn’t; you didn’t let him use your eyes to copy his scars. You couldn’t.

All for him to walk away.

You hadn’t really been the same, since then. Where once you were the leader of your little ragtag group of adventurers, now you couldn’t find it in you to leave your tent. Well… Astarion’s tent, actually. You never had one of your own. And when the two of you got together, it just seemed natural to share.

Gale had taken over in leading everyone for day to day adventuring on your behalf. Even though you wished it, the world would not slow down because you were hurt. No kindness spared on your broken, broken heart. Yet you couldn’t stop wondering where you went wrong. Were the two of you not as close as you thought? Could you have been more convincing, hell, more intimidating, anything to have kept him by your side?

You think, right now, it’s night. Your candle’s are all stuffed out, the bustle of the streets beyond are quiet, and you can’t hear the patter and stomps of Scratch and the owlbear cub playing around camp. Your tears have all but dried, even if your sorrow remains as fresh as a new wound. No, all is silent in this moment.

You take a deep breath. Yes, it would be best to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, you would wake up and feel like a person again. One who could attend to all her duties. And maybe even get back on the path to save Baldur’s gate.

But sleep never comes for those whose hearts are so heavy. This isn’t the first night you’ve lied awake, thoughts wondering. All for the better, perhaps-- because in the heavy quiet of the cities dark night, you hear the flap of your tent open with the utmost quietness. And you, just as quiet, sit up from your laying position. Who ever has invaded your space must have dark vision, for they pause upon seeing your form and do not move an inch.

“I can see you there.” Your voice comes out, gravelly and rough. You don’t sense your in danger, though, even as your heart beats and pounds in your chest. Who would be stupid enough to steal from a camp full of adventurers, with an owlbear lurking around no less. Still, with some trepidation, you cast the cantrip for light, and watch as your messy tent (and new guest) are bathed in cool, blue light.

“Oh,” Is all you think to say. You can’t really trust your eyes, so you rub the days of built up sleep and sorrow from them. No, you can’t even speak his name as you stare upon him. But you dare not look away. Even if it was a dream, it was him. It was him.

“...You’re a mess.” His words are soft, quiet. He seems to relax a little when he sees you make no movement.

“...I suppose I am.” You clear your throat a little after speaking, if only because a new lump seems to be forming now that you look to him. “How… how can I help you, Astarion?”

“Gods…” He heaves a heavy sigh, looking over your pitiful form. “I’ve hurt you this much, and you still think to help me? Are you stupid?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Perhaps.” You nod softly. “Stupid enough to fall in love with you, after all.” You can only smile weakly at him.

“I came here too…” He frowns, looking away from you for a moment. “Well it doesn’t matter why I came back. You clearly need some sense knocked back into you.” With that, he moves in closer to you. Surprised, you move in a little in order to accommodate him. You try to ignore the beating of your heart, ignore the hope that rises within you like a phoenix from its ashes.

“What… are you going to do?” You turn to him, nestled into your side like he might have been not too long ago.

“Talk, as terrible as that sounds.” He keeps his gaze down, looking at the messed up bedding.

“Talk?” You repeat. “I thought you… didn’t want to see me again.”

“Well, that was then. This is now.” Astarion looks to you. To the bags built up under your eyes. Your cheeks, still rosy and sensitive with just how many tears you’ve shed (for him, no less). Your hair is unkempt and as gross as you are, all he can see is someone that loves him… “I… said and did some terrible things during that ritual. Things that… looking back, I may not have done were I in the right head space.” He swallows hard. “I was… scared. And the promise of power, the smell of blood… it was all so intoxicating, I forgot myself there for a moment.”

The two of you sit in the silence a moment, festering in it. Words dance on the tip of your tongue but Astarion isn’t done speaking. He, too, needs a moment to compose himself. “But… you never forgot who I was.” He looks to you, something soft, something sad, something gentle written into the contours of his face. Even as he turns to you, he struggles to meet your eyes-- shining, glimmering, with something sweet and promising and loving in them. Something that he doesn’t deserve; not after the actions he took that day.

“You did everything in your power to convince me what I was doing was wrong, but all I could see then was the security that power could bring me.” He closes his eyes, taking a sharp intake of air though his nose. “I was so blinded, I could not see that with you by my side, I was the happiest I’ve ever been these past 200 years…” As he opens his eyes, he looks down to his folded hands, then over to yours. You realize that even if he is so close… Astarion hesitates to touch you. Maybe he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to do so any more, or perhaps felt he was no longer worthy… Whatever the reason, it breaks your heart just a little bit more.

“I… see.” It’s a lot to soak up. That in the moment, you couldn’t reach him but in the days sense Astarion has realized… maybe this was for the better.

“You saved me from becoming the very man I lived in fear of, and all I gave you in return was heartbreak.” He seeks your eyes, his own wide and wet and you realize he’s crying now. Tears flood your eyes as well, because he was right; you cared for him so much, though, it almost didn’t seem to matter. Almost. “How can I ever expect you to forgive me?” With that, he breaks, closing his eyes roughly and crying out, sobbing into his own hands.

All you can do in that moment is cry with him. Two, love sick idiots broken and hurt but not beyond mending-- not yet.

“It’s okay,” You find yourself struggling to say the words, even as you usher him into your arms and hold him. He does not hesitate to hold you in turn, to cry unto you as you into him. “We’ll be okay, I promise, I promise.” Your words come out as prayer as you hold him close. “Just don’t leave again, please!”

“I won’t, I won’t.” Astarion seems to compose himself more quickly than you do, but he does not let go, even as you know your tears stain his shirt. “I’ve got you and I won’t leave you ever again.” He rubs his hand along your back slowly, doing his best to try and comfort you in the same way you have for him in the past. It’s a long moment before you feel yourself begin to breathe normally again, before your tears once again dry and you find yourself staring into his red eyes once more.

“I love you,” Your words are softer than a whisper, said with a trembling smile.

“I love you too.” Astarion responds in kind, resting his forehead against yours. You two stay content a moment before he speaks again. “But you’re disgusting-- let me take care of you.” He pulls away from you and your left no room to argue. You merely blink, owlishly, as he pulls back. He moves to stand but you grab his hand.

“Where are you going?” You hold on to him with both hands now, and he has to pause to take the sudden fear on your face. Astarion had planned to leave to return with a little wash bin and rag but seeing you so distraught makes him pause. Of course, the last time he walked away from you he didn’t return…

“We’re going to get you cleaned up.” With a bit of a struggle, Astarion gets you to rise to your feet next to him. “Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He adds. You nod slowly, still a little on edge from the panic that just flooded your system but nonetheless, trusting Astarion.

So, with the difficulty that comes with only having one hand, Astarion pins open the flaps of the tent (your light cantrip soon goes out as well, but the inside is illuminated but the torchlight of your camp). Some of the stale air you had been living in gets to escape, and you’re able to take a fresh breath of air you hadn’t realized you needed.

Astarion gathers his wash bin, and the rag, and with you in tow, rummages through that the travelers chest you seem to toss anything and everything into. But, avoiding unmatched boots and careful not to prick himself on all the arrows that are in there (and trying not to think about how they were likely dumped in there after he left), he finds what he was looking for-- some soap. And though the water is cold, and the night is cool, at least with a little bit of soap and his careful hand, it’s not all bad.

“You need to wash these clothes too,” Astarion huffs. “I know you have other things, so let’s get you into something cleaner.” You’re guided back into your shared tent (which is already starting to smell better, but the scented water is helping as well) while Astarion rifles though your clothing. Here together again, you finally let go of his hand but stay close to him.

“Thank you…” You pause, watching him pick out something comfortable and warm. “I can take care of myself, though.” You add, taking the clothing from him.

“I’m sure you can-- but I want to take care of you.” He doesn’t let go of your clothing as you try and take it. “So, let me.” His gaze flicks up to your eyes and you’re surprised to see him look so stubborn.

“Oh,” You let go of the clothing, surprised. “I… That would be nice.” You say it quietly, still too caught up in him being here, being real and touching you, loving you.

“Now, out of the nasty clothing, if you would.” He persists, grabbing the hem of your current shirt. He pauses before lifting it though, looking to your face. “That is, if you’re okay with me…” he trails, unsure.

“It’s you, so it’s okay.” You assure him. You raise your hands so he can take off the offending, stinky shirt, and toss it aside. Next, he removes your pants, tossing them the same direction.

“This might be a little cold,” Astarion tells you, but it doesn’t stop the flinch (nor the shiver) as the cool rag touches your skin. Still, his touch is delicate and careful.

He first wipes your face (part of it, still covered in blood and dirt from that same battle). He dips and wrings out the rag, before continuing his work. Your chest, your arms, legs-- all of you, gently washed and cared for. You realize this is the first time he’s been so intimate with you in a non sexual way. It’s… nice. To see his brow furrowed in concentration, have his hands upon you just hold you. It’s not like the two of you went entirely without touching one another in that time, but to have him initiating it, warms you.

“Now, back in your clothing before you catch a cold.” You nod at him and smile, sliding on the familiar pants and shirt with comfort and ease.

“I already feel a lot better, thank you.” He smiles softly, but sits you back down.

“Just let me attend to this rats nest, and we can be done.” Astarion reaches for his comb, and sits beside you. “Lean back so I can wet your hair,” He guides you down, with your head over the basin, and cups his hand to gather water before wetting your hair.

You let his work quietly, until your hair is wet and he can begin working out the knots starting at the ends. When the comb runs freely to your hair, he grabs the soap and carefully massages it into your scalp, scratching here in there. You let out a sigh in content, and Astarion can’t help but smile softly.

He was still shocked that you even talked to him-- let alone let him touch you. But the two of you needed this. To hold and be held, to love and let go. He truly was a fool to ever think he could be without you. But he was lucky, then, that you were fool enough to let him back in.

With your hair washed, combed, and dried and the water dumped and wash bin put aside, Astarion let you sit back up and look at him. “So… what happens next?” You ask softly.

“Well… I’m not sure.” He admits. “I didn’t think you would forgive me so… I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.”

“I suppose we get our rest, then.” You heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve taken enough time off from adventuring… And you have some friends who deserve an explanation as well.”

“More talking?” Astarion groans softly, but makes no move to leave your side as you lie down and tug him with you. “But… you are right.”

“You’ll be okay.” You give him a good, full body squeeze. “Everyone here cares for you. They’ll be willing to hear you out.”

“Perhaps only with you by my side.” He lets out a little chuckle. “But… that’s not such a bad thing.” He readjusts in your grasp, snuggling close and turning towards you. “Rest well, darling.” He kisses the top of your head, and smiles down at your sleepy expression.

“I will, now that you’re here…” It didn’t take long for sleep to find you, wound up in Astarion’s arms. You hadn’t slept so well in days, and who was he to wake you when you looked so peaceful…? It seemed like time passed so quickly with you in his arms, and before long he could hear the sounds of everyone else waking in camp.

Astarion couldn’t help but grow anxious as footsteps grew closer to the tent. “Solider, you in there?” Karlach’s voice called out. “I know you haven’t been very hungry lately, but I brought you some breakfast…” Unable to do anything to stop her, Astarion watched as Karlach pokes her head into the tent. With the morning light, they could only stare at one another a moment.

“Shh, just let them sleep a while longer…” Astarion turned from Karlach, and brushed some stray hairs from your face. “When they’re ready to wake up, I’ll… I’ll be ready to.” He turns from you, back to Karlach, a look of surprise and glee on her face.

“Right! Right… I’ll be quiet!” She gives him a little thumbs up and quickly retreats from the tent. But… Astarion can hear Karlach, even if she is all the way across camp. First, she tells Jaheira, then Minsc, and Minthara and Lae’zel overhear… Then Wyll, Shaodowheart and Halsin of course overhear and then Gale finds out, and now the whole camp is aware that he’s back here even if they are being remarkable polite about it….

Still, it brings a smile on his face. To know they were so excited to see him again (maybe even if it was only to see you happy again) was a comforting thought. To be among friends… That was something truly special indeed.

“Astarion…?” You wake slowly, eyes barely open as you look to him, hold him a little tighter.

“I’m here,” Astarion assures you, giving you a squeeze in return.

“Good…” You close your eyes and cuddle back into him, letting out a small yawn. “Let’s stay alone for just a little longer yet.”

“That can be arranged.” He can’t help but smile, and relax into you. Everyone else could wait a little longer yet-- you deserved what ever you wanted in this moment. And if that happened to be him, well, Astarion was in no place to say no.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #bg3 x reader #just... thinking about how alone and afriad he would feel after that #made me kind of insane

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

Text

bad idea right

for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from ‘bad idea right’ by olivia rodrigo

rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex

📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱

Eddie isn’t afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.

Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.

“Steve?” It’s been almost a year since he’s heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. “You okay?”

“Eddie! Oh my god. So I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.” Eddie’s listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. “You remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.”

Steve’s words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.

“I knew you were awake,” he gulps. Robin’s gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- “Is Robbie with you?”

“No.” Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. “She’s on a date with her girlfriend.”

Right. She’d mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.

Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steve’s platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasn’t Eddie’s fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.

“Are you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.” Eddie offers even though he’s sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.

“I can get my own Uber.”

“I know.”

“I missed your voice.”

Eddie is doing his fuckin’ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but it’s not going well. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows because he’s weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing it’ll only lead to more heartbreak.

“You should get home, Stevie.”

“Missed that, too.”

It’s quieter on Steve’s end now, like he’s stepped away from whatever club or bar he’s holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what he’s done so he hangs up.

“Steve…”

“Can I come over?”

Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.

When Steve arrives, he’s a beautiful mess.

He’s drunk, but the ride must’ve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.

Eddie’s waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesn’t belong. He’s trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didn’t belong.

Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddie’s third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if he’d never stopped, as if this last year wasn’t the worst of his life and he’s barely made it through.

“Sorry I called. I didn’t know where to go.”

And now Eddie’s confused. He’s confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.

And he’s sure that Steve’s been drunk in the last year and not called him.

“Why couldn’t you go home?”

“Too quiet.”

11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.

11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steve’s apartment for the last time.

11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because he’d been feeling overwhelmed and didn’t tell Eddie until it was too late.

Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.

“You wanna come in?” He asks, already knowing Steve’s answer.

“Please.”

Steve is tucked into Eddie’s bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.

Robin’s livid when she answers her phone.

“This better be good. I was two fingers-“

“Steve’s here.” Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. “Drunk.”

“He just showed up at your house?” Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though he’s not sure who she’s more concerned about.

“He called first.”

“And you answered.”

“Yeah. Well.” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets home tomorrow.”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I would’ve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.”

“It’s not your job to babysit him.” Eddie doesn’t like the way she said that, but he’s probably reading too much into it. “He’s an adult.”

“Yeah, no. He’s. I mean, he’s fine. It’s just that we all try to keep his mind busy since…ya know.” Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.

“Since he specifically told me I was too much for him?”

Robin’s silence speaks volumes.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is behind him and he’s quick to turn and make sure he’s okay. “Sleep?”

“I’ll text you,” he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. “You should go lay down. I’ll bring you some water.”

“You too?” Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddie’s living room.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie.”

“Is it because of what I said?”

It’s not the time for them to have this conversation, and it’s not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.

“You made it very clear how you felt. I’m just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.” Robin would be proud of how he’s handling this, he thinks. He’s at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesn’t see any.

Steve’s too tired and too buzzed to hide it.

“Then why did you say any of it?” Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. “Why did you make me think I was too much?”

“My dad came by that day,” Steve’s head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. “My dad had spent two hours telling me I wasn’t enough and that I’d done nothing but disappoint him and I’d never be what he wanted. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.”

Eddie’s staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.

“It’s no excuse. I shouldn’t’ve said any of it no matter what. Not when it’s not even true. I’ve never felt like you’re too much or too loud.” Steve’s stepping closer now. “I’ve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re more than I deserve without saying you’re too much for what I can offer.”

Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.

Damn Eddie’s inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.

He doesn’t know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steve’s and teeth knock together, and there’s a slight taste of blood on Eddie’s tongue.

There’s moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.

There’s Steve’s head hitting the pillow and Eddie’s mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.

There’s laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.

There’s love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and there’s hope when Steve cries out for more, and there’s passion that Eddie knows he’d never find with anyone else.

After, when there’s sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, there’s whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.

It may have been a bad idea answering Steve’s call, but Eddie’s happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddiesongfics #exes to lovers #getting back together #angst with a happy ending

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mikanotes · 10 months

Text

up close & personal

hyunsu ? x gn!reader

genre: what. mutual pining?

warnings: sweet home 2 spoilers, mentions of blood, injuries. hyunsu himself is a warning lowkey if u watched the last ep u probably get it… that’s all!

synopsis: You know Hyunsu so well. One year apart couldn’t possibly change that. Except if Hyunsu isn’t alone anymore.

authors note: realized at the end of this fic that i cld compare hyunsu’s current situation to venom like a little bit and that just makes everything so much easier somehow. anyways i don’t really like this but i needed to post smt for him after s2 so!

One year ago, you and Cha Hyunsu would’ve been sitting near the entrance of Green Home apartments, and he would be listening to you talk. One year ago, you would’ve firmly believed that by now, the world would’ve been restored to some kind of peace. It had, in a way, but certainly not in the one your past self would have hoped for. And certainly not the one Hyunsu would’ve wanted for the two of you.

Nevertheless, you remained grateful through everything— As much as you could manage. The shelter was as organized as possible and conflict was a surprisingly rare occurence. Things were alright. As long as you didn’t give time for the grief and terror to catch up to you.

But things couldn’t be calm forever. Especially not in the current state of your world.

When Eunyu disappeared with that man from the military, it only took a day before you grew restless enough to depart from the stadium. After all, Eunyu was the closest thing to a friend you had here, at this point. It only felt right to try and find her. And you did, surprisingly, along with a few familiar faces and an unknown one.

You didn’t expect for the evening you found your friend again to be the very same you would see the person you had considered closest to you at Green Home for the first time in… Over a year.

“Finally asleep.” you sighed quietly, watching Eunyu get the rest her body had probably been begging for. It was difficult to convince her you would stand watch and wait for your friend to wake up in her stead, but her exhaustion made her stop arguing eventually.

You turned towards the room he was in.

Cha Hyunsu.

You crossed your arms and sighed. One year without a single trace of him anywhere. And now he… Just reappears? You wanted to be surprised, but part of you really wasn’t. You were angry, just a little— Spending all this time telling yourself he was gone, only for him to come back as if nothing happened felt like a slap to the face. Still, you couldn’t blame him. Yet. You had no idea what happened to him during that time span.

You felt relieved, if anything.

After some hesitation, you walked over to the glass door. Your hand settled on the handle, pushing it open, before your eyes widened. Hyunsu was sitting on the hospital bed, stretching his neck quietly, not at all perturbed by anything. Hell, he even seemed peaceful.

More peaceful than you’d ever seen him.

You stepped inside quietly and let the door close behind you. Hyunsu continued to move his head, slowly, as if trying to relax, and didn’t acknowledge your presence. His shoulder was bloodstained, still, and his hoodie had cuts here and there. Messy as he appeared, this was your friend from Green Home, there was no denying it. You hadn’t even dared hope he could still be alive, after all this time. You couldn’t give your heart such a high possibility of suffering if he turned out to be gone.

And now he was here. So calm.

He opened his eyes with a soft sigh, before turning his gaze to you. “Finally decided to talk to me?” he asked. His tone was different. Too different. This did not feel like the kind of change that happened in a year. He smiled a little at your silence, tilting his head curiously. “No? Do you need more time? That would be too bad.”

He hopped off the bed with a huff and slowly walked over to you. The closer he got, the clearer it became that his eye color was different. Long gone was the blank, dark brown gaze that looked back at you when you two would talk— Replaced by a vibrant sky blue. A stark contrast from what you were used to, as was everything else about him, apparently. Be it his tone or his mannerisms, it all felt deeply wrong, like it wasn’t him at all. You furrowed your eyebrows but stood still, letting him walk to the very edge of your personal space.

“I’ve been waiting to see you for such a long while.”

“Huh?”

Hyunsu’s eyes widened a little before he grinned. This wasn’t … Him. Not exactly, at least. Not the one you talked to so much. But special-cases, or MH, essentially coexisted in one body. The monster forms around a person’s strongest desire, or whatever it was that scientist at the shelter said.

So perhaps, all the times you and Hyunsu had talked in the past had also been conversations that this side of him had been listening to.

A bit scary. You couldn’t really focus on that, though. You took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Is he well?”

He clicked his tongue, expression growing sour. “He’s fine. Let him get some rest. He’s tired.”

You nodded softly, gaze averting. That sounded fine enough to you. He was right, too, earlier— You had been avoiding talking to him since you met again. With the excuse of focusing on Yikyung and scavenging through the hospital, you had plenty of reasons to act as if you weren’t seeing the person you cared the most for after a whole entire year of thinking he was dead.

But you did feel his gaze on you the whole time. It was heavy, and remorseful. You’d planned to talk to him— In fact, that’s why you decided to come over to the room he was in. You hadn’t expected things to turn out this way, however. Seems like you couldn’t talk to your friend, yet.

“It’s nice to know you care, though.” he hummed, gaze never leaving your face. “He thinks about you so much, too.”

You looked back up at him. If this was the so-called monster part of Hyunsu, then what was his deal? A lot of questions about this situation flooded your head. “What are you playing at?”

He chuckled softly, before backing up just enough to hold up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Nothing as evil as you probably think.” he said, voice steady. “I just wanted us to talk. Just us.”

“Huh.”

“You see, your Hyunsu has an interest in you.” he said, tilting his head slowly. It felt as if he was analyzing you. It was a bit unsettling, but you didn’t bother breaking eye contact this time. “But I do, too. I’d say maybe… Even more than him?” his grin widened at his own words.

“I find it hard to believe you care about people.”

“And yet.” he scoffed, expression dropping to a blank one, seemingly annoyed. He dropped his arms to his sides and sighed. “We decided to work together. Couldn’t have him die on me, it wouldn’t be nice for anyone involved.”

You decided this Hyunsu seemed to mean it when he said they made a deal, just about as much as when he said he had an interest in you. So placing your trust in his bloodied hands for the time being, you tried to be less on guard. He wouldn’t kill you, or most importantly, Hyunsu. That was enough for now.

“Okay.” you sighed, crossing your arms. “So you want to talk?”

He smiled a little. “Yes.” he stated, before taking a step towards you. Only this time, he didn’t bother keeping a safe distance. His face was a touch too close to yours. “I’ve wanted to for a while.”

“You…” you paused for a moment, thinking. “Do you usually go around talking to people while getting so close to them?”

“I don’t go around talking to people.” he mocked your tone before scoffing, a grin pulling at his lips. He brought a hand up to your face, holding your cheek firmly. His focus turned to his hand, eyes narrowing in its direction. You felt his fingers loosen a little, as if he was trying to control how tightly he was holding you.

Which he was. Now it felt gentle. Almost unfitting. Not only that but the Hyunsu you knew was never this comfortable with anything close to physical affection. It felt so out of place.

“Does it bother you?” he whispered, eyes flitting over to meet yours again. He moved in closer, just enough for your noses to touch. He seemed to be having fun switching between looking at your eyes and at your lips. “Am I too close?”

Before you could think of a way to answer, you froze. The unfamiliar color in Hyunsu’s eyes dissipated, the cocky expression you were almost beginning to get used to replaced by a soft, almost startled one. His voice, much quieter now, whispered your name. Your eyes widened and you sighed in something akin to relief.

“Hyunsu.” you breathed out. The latter looked at you with a stunned look, struggling to find anything to say for a while. He looked into your eyes like he was making sure you were okay— Making sure you were really alive. His thumb moved back and forth softly over the skin of your cheek, his gaze scanning you in an almost panicked manner. He sighed shakily, before he brought your face into his shoulder. He seemed to be almost trembling.

“I’m sorry.” he exhaled, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders hesitantly. Still terrible at hugging. You’d missed those awkward displays of affection so much. “I… I’m sorry, it’s been… A very long time.”

“God, you’re so cruel, Cha Hyunsu.”

He tilted his head down into your neck. Now you felt his tears on your skin. He really hasn’t changed, you thought. It was obvious when he came running for help when Yikyung was badly injured, when he did everything to help her and went all the way to look for that kid— Cha Hyunsu hadn’t changed.

“I’m—”

“Quit apologizing.” you huffed, holding him tightly. “I missed you, too.”

Hyunsu sighed quietly, tightening his hold on you a little. He was relieved to finally have you with him again, but he couldn’t shake off his worries.

“You talked to… Him? Right?”

“I did.” you said, pulling away enough to look at him. The concern on his features was undeniable. “And it went fine. It’s okay.”

Hyunsu’s frown deepened. “I don’t know if it’s alright. Me staying… So close to you.”

“Don’t even think about disappearing on me again.” you warned, eyes widening. “I don’t care about any reason you give me— Don’t leave again.”

The boy sighed, averting his gaze for a moment, before slowly bringing it back to you.

“I won’t.” he assured, “I won’t leave you again.”

He closed his eyes and pulled you into another hug. He had to believe his existence on its own wouldn’t cause more problems for you to deal with. He had to trust that even if it did, you meant it when you said you didn’t mind. He knew you did. You always meant it.

He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the glass door just a bit further away. Seeing you in his arms should have been reassuring. But the blue hue of one of his eyes and the nagging voice in his head seemed to be laughing at his naivety. He pressed his eyes shut again and buried his face in your shoulder.

This is our priority, now. (I know.) No one else comes first. (I know.) Don’t let them get hurt.

I won’t.

#hyunsu x reader #cha hyun su x reader #cha hyunsu x reader #hyunsoo x reader #cha hyun soo x reader #cha hyunsoo x reader #sweet home x reader #x reader

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