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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 10 months

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Sweet Little Sister

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Request: Could you do one where you're Steve's little sister and you go to Eddie to get a tattoo? But it's really a ruse because you have a crush on him and are trying to work up the courage to tell him. Then, you know...😉

18+ only

“Harrington? What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, confusion written all over his face to find you at the door to his trailer.

You pushed your hair back, gazing up at the metalhead that you’d been crushing on for two years. You’d noticed him at the beginning of your junior year, his first time repeating senior year. Fuck, he was so beautiful. Standing there in just a pair of sleep shorts, blank ink standing out harshly against his pale chest, that mess of dusky waves falling over his bare shoulders, was almost too much for you to handle. It took everything in you not to turn and run, but no, you had to play this cool. You’d come up with a plan and you were going to see this through. This was no time to chicken out if you ever wanted a shot with him.

Your brother, Steve, knew him because they had some weird shared friendship with a freshman, Dustin Henderson. The two had become friends over the past year and having him around only intensified your fixation on the Hellfire Club’s dungeon master. You’d never been brave enough to say anything though, sticking to casual conversation about his DnD club, his band, school, etc. He’d even sold you some weed once and you had intended on making a move but you’d bailed at the last minute.

“I actually came to ask you a favor,” you answered softly, willing your heart to slow down.

“Oh yeah? What kind of favor is that, princess?” he mused with a smile, his elbow propped against the doorframe as he leaned into you. “Does Harrington’s sweet little sister need more weed?”

“No, not that,” you muttered quickly. “I uhh…well, I’ve heard that you did all your own tattoos?”

“Yeah, I did,” he replied slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms, eyes narrowing, lips pressed together, as he considered you, clearly wondering where this was going.

“I actually want a tattoo and I was wondering if you’d do it.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and then he started laughing, “Harrington’s infamous little sister wants me to tattoo her? Now, that shit is funny. And what, pray tell, does big brother think about this?”

“Steve doesn’t know,” you insisted, straightening your spine, trying to appear far more brave than you felt. “He doesn’t get a say. It’s my body and I’m eighteen. I can do what I want.”

Eddie’s lips pursed in amusement, “Kitty’s got claws. Surprising. Okay then. Come on in to my palace, princess and tell me what you’re thinking.”

“O…okay…” you stammered as he stepped back, sweeping his arm out. You stepped inside his trailer and he gestured to the couch, the two of you sitting next to each other.

“Alright, darling, what are you thinking of getting? Do you have a picture or something?”

“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled, reaching in your back pocket and handing him a folded up piece of notebook paper. “I actually drew out my idea. It’s fairly simple actually.”

Eddie opened it up, turning his head as he looked at the drawing. It was two butterflies, just basic outlines, flying off into the sky. He glanced up at you, nodding.

“I can totally do this. Can I ask why this?”

You felt the flush creep into your face, “You’ll probably think it’s stupid. It’s supposed to represent me and Steve, umm, getting away from our parents? You know, flying away and finally being free? I mean, it hasn’t happened yet but I am planning on getting a job once this school year is over and we’ve talked about renting a place together then. Getting the hell out of that house is all I want.”

Eddie chuckled softly, “That’s not stupid, sweetheart. I think that’s pretty cool actually. You two willing to give up all that money? Must be worse than Harrington even admits.”

You swallowed hard, “Yeah, well…”

Sensing your discomfort, he changed the subject, “Okay, where were you thinking?”

Okay, here came the part that had you the most nervous, the part where you set out the bait and hoped he took it. You inhaled deeply before pulling your shirt over your head. Eddie’s eyes bulged with shock as you took his hand, placing it over your heart.

“I was thinking right here,” you whispered. “What do you think?”

“I…uh…I…” Eddie stammered nervously, tongue running over his bottom lip as he sat, frozen, his hand on your chest. “I…yeah, I mean…I can do it there. It’s uh…kind of where I did one of mine.”

“This one?” you inquired, tilting your head, one hand still covering his, the other rising to his chest, fingertip tracing over the demon head, your confidence bolstered by the way he shivered under your touch.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallowed.

“I like it,” you told him. “Do you think mine would be better there or…” Releasing his hand, you hooked the loops of your jeans in your fingers, sliding them down your legs. Taking his hand once again, you placed it on your stomach, just above lacy pink panties you’d worn just for this. “Here?”

“Fuck…” Eddie muttered, closing his eyes. “I…uh…it’s up to you really. I…Jesus Christ…”

“Eddie?” you said softly, your other hand coming under his chin. “Are you okay?”

“No, not really,” he replied, shaking his head. “You’re standing here in your bra and underwear and I’m trying really hard to be respectful. I mean, you’re Harrington’s sister.” His eyes opened and he moaned. “But fuck, I mean, look at you.”

You bit your bottom lip, smiling, pleased at his reaction, “What if I don’t want you to be respectful? What if I want you to look?” You took both his hands, sliding them along your stomach and over your breasts, holding them there. “To touch?”

“Holy shit…uh…I…what…” Eddie looked like a deer in headlights, frozen, staring up at you.

“Eddie, I want you,” you told him softly. “I’ve wanted you ever since the first day of my junior year. Do you remember? You passed me a spray paint can and said thanks sweetheart, flashing me a smile. Principal Higgins was hot on your heels because he’d found your artwork in his office.”

“Oh damn,” Eddie chuckled. “That was some of my finest work. A massive dick covering his wall. I even painted over his college degree. Well, shit, you saved my ass that day.” He rose from the couch, his nerves suddenly gone, large hands covering your hips, the metal of his rings cool against your flesh. “I guess I owe you, huh?”

“You really do,” you breathed, eyes closing as he tilted his head down, lips a breath away from yours. Finally, you were going to get everything you’d only fantasized about.

“You sure about this, sweetheart?” he whispered softly, lips brushing over your cheek. “Once we do this, there’s no taking it back.”

“I don’t want to take it back.”

Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours, heat spreading through every fiber of your being, settling in your center. Dear god, help you, those full lips were even more delicious than you could have imagined. His tongue slid past your lips, licking every inch of your mouth and your knees buckled, your fingers grasping at his hair for purchase and you knew nobody could help you now. You were completely lost in everything that was him. The pads of his fingers pressing into your skin, velvety tongue exploring your throat, luscious lips devouring yours, fluffy strands of wavy hair between your fingers, hard chest and warm skin pressed against yours.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groaned, dropping to his knees in front of you. “I’ve imagined what you look like without your clothes, princess, but you are even more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

His nose ran over your thigh and you inhaled sharply, head dropping back. He turned you, running his hand over your asscheek as he grunted. You shrieked when you felt his teeth biting into a chunk of your flesh. The sharp sting was followed by soft kisses and then his hands were guiding you to face him again.

“Eddie…” you gasped, his breath hot against your already burning center as he nuzzled himself against your panties.

“Can I?” he asked, those warm eyes questioning as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties. All you could do was nod. Slowly, so achingly slowly, he dragged your panties down your legs. You lifted one ankle and then the other so he could fully remove them. "Fucking hell..."

His nose ran along your folds and as it bumped over your clit, you whimpered, reaching out, grabbing his shoulders to hold yourself up. Eddie's hand gripped your calf, lifting your leg and bringing it over his shoulder, opening you to him. Those lips tortured you, biting and sucking the skin along your inner thigh and then the other, leaving marks you knew would show tomorrow. It gave you a thrill of pleasure thinking about Eddie's handiwork concealed under your clothes where only you knew about it.

"Please..." you pleaded, losing all sense of control, needing him like your lungs needed oxygen, like your veins needed blood rushing through them.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

Flattening his tongue, he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit and you shuddered, a guttural moan falling from your lips, nails digging into his flesh as your legs threatened to give out. Jesus, this man was talented. His tongue was making love to your clit, circling and flicking and rolling in ways you hadn't even known were possible.

"Eddie, that's so good. Oh my god," you panted, chest heaving, knowing it was going to take you no time to reach your peak but fuck, you never wanted it to end.

"Mmm, you taste so good, sweetheart. I could die a happy man buried between these thighs," he hummed against you.

Just when you thought nothing could feel better than this, his lips latched around your clit and two fingers pressed into you, sending you to an entirely new level of pleasure.

"Oh...fuck!" you cried, teetering, falling, plunging into an abyss you would never crawl out of. "I can't...oh my god...Eddie...I..."

"You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

Eddie's fingers curled within you, his mouth leaving your center and making it's way up your body. His thumb replaced his tongue, circling over your clit. Your eyes closed, helpless whimpers rising out of you. With his other hand, he gripped the back of your neck.

"Open your eyes for me, beautiful," he commanded. "I want to watch you cum for me." Your eyes fluttered open, a struggle against the coil winding tightly within you. "That's a good girl. Cum all over my fingers."

"Eddie..." you keened, back arching, his hand the only thing supporting your body as the most powerful orgasm you'd ever experienced in your life imploded through your body. It was like being burst apart from the inside, like shooting stars rocketing through the sky, like a tornado blowing everything apart. It was like nothing you'd ever felt.

"That's my girl," he praised with a grin, fingers slipping from inside you, leaving you feeling empty. "Fuck, you look beautiful when you cum. I could watch that over and over again."

You whimpered at his words, the very thought of doing this, having this with him for more than one night was almost too much to bear, too much to hope for. You arms came around his neck, your lips pressed to his once again, desperate for more, desperate for as much as you could get of him.

"Someone not satisfied yet?" he sang, pulling back with a grin, tongue running over his teeth. "We can't have that." His hands gripped your ass and hefted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, lips moving over yours as he carried you into his bedroom.

He dropped you on the bed, quickly covering your body with his own. One of his hands slid behind your back, unhooking your bra and pulling the straps down over your arms.

"Fuck, you're so damn beautiful. You're like...perfect..." he commented, eyes raking over every inch of you, causing your body to flush with pleasure.

Then his lips were on your chest, covering every inch, teeth and tongue raking along your nipples, threatening to send you over the edge again. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you, needing more, needing to feel all of him.

"Fuck me," you pleaded.

Eddie's head popped up from your chest, eyes glinting devilishly. Kissing his way back up your body, he placed his hands on either side of your head, eyes burning into yours, dark waves brushing your skin.

"You want my cock, princess?" he inquired, teasing. "Want me to fill that pretty little pussy?" You nodded, panting beneath him at just the thought. "Did you fantasize about this? Huh, beautiful? Did you lay in your bed, in that big house, your fingers slipping into your pussy, imagining it was me?"

"Yes," you breathed, biting your lip. "Yes...all the fucking time. Please. I want you, Eddie. I need you."

"Need me? I like the sound of that." He rose from the bed, removing his shorts and boxers. You almost fucking salivated at the sight of him naked in front of you, something you'd imagined but you'd never gotten it right. He was so damn perfect. Grabbing a condom from the dresser, he ripped it open with his teeth, sliding it over his length.

Eddie crawled back over the top of you, lips dropping next to your ear, "Can I tell you a secret? I've jacked myself off to the thought of you under me a thousand time."

And then he was thrusting into you and it was perfection. It was angels singing on fluffy white clouds. It was rainbows glittering across a blue sky. It was sweet, cold ice cream on a hot summer day. It was a crackling fire and a cozy blanket after you came in from the cold. It was every fucking thing that was perfect and good in this world.

"Oh fuck yes..." you cried, wrapping your legs around him, heels digging into his ass in an attempt to pull him even deeper into you.

Eddie grunted, rutting inside of you, bottoming out as he rose up, one hand on the headboard. His eyes focused on the spot where he was entering your body, watching himself slip inside your warmth each time.

"Oh sweetheart...you feel so goddamn good..." he groaned, his hips rolling slowly, relishing every single thrust. "So fucking good, princess."

Your body jolted, tiny electric shocks dancing over your skin, your nerves endings on fire as flames of pleasure raced through you. Eddie's hands slid along your legs, gripping your calves and lifting them up, pushing them until they were back by your ears, causing his cock to reach a whole new depth, a depth you hadn't known existed.

"Fuck!" you screamed, eyes rolling back in your head.

"Yes. Oh shit, baby, I am so close. Are you close, princess?"

You nodded frantically, words lost to you, teeth digging into your lip so hard you could taste blood. Your body was a piano wire, pulled so tight you thought you would snap. Your legs tensed, ankles bent, fireworks exploding behind your eyes as your release burst from you, screaming Eddie's name, fingers clutching at him, grasping, nails scraping along flesh.

"Son of a bitch!" Eddie roared, head bent back, body stilling as he plunged into you once more, his own orgasm taking over. Your legs shook like jello as he trembled above you and then he fell, collapsing against you. "Jesus...shit...fuck..." he muttered, peppering your face with kisses, his forehead pressed against yours. "Your brother is going to be so pissed off when he finds out."

"I...I'm not gonna tell him..." you assured him, shaking your head, legs falling to the mattress, no strength left.

"Well, it will be kind of hard to keep from him forever," Eddie said with a smile. "I mean, how long can we keep hiding?"

"Keep hiding?" you asked, bewildered, list filled brain struggling to keep up with that he was saying. "Do you mean...you want to keep doing this?"

"Hell yeah," he laughed. "Don't you?"

"I mean...yeah...I do. But if we're just sneaking around to have sex, we can keep it a secret. You don't have to tell anyone."

"Oh sweetheart, I definitely want to keep having sex. There's so many damn things I want to do with you. But, I was thinking more than that. How would you feel about me taking you to a movie?"

"Like a date? You want to date me?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, the sound low and husky, sending shivers racing over your skin. "I mean, you said you liked me, right? I thought that meant like, you liked me, liked me."

"No, I do!" you insisted. "I just didn't think you would want..."

"Oh pretty girl, I want. I definitely want." Those lips began moving again, over your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. "You're not the only one who had a crush. I want all of you. I want everything with you."

You sighed softly as those lips began making their way south again, your body ready for him, pulsing, throbbing. Thank god you'd finally found the courage to make a move.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #tattoo artist eddie munson #smut #fluff #smut and fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #request #smut requests

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yuki-world · 7 months

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那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; TEACH

summary | you're just so sexually inexperienced, surely neuvillette, someone who has lived for millenniums, could teach you a thing or two about pleasuring someone?

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, slight corruption, first-time blowjob, throat bulge, face-fucking, cum swallowing, praise kink, mentions of virginity, 1.9k words

a/n : you have no idea how down bad i am. pt 2 here —> learn

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

neuvillette is not amused.

he’s always open to sharing his knowledge with others; in fact, he has been teaching you a plethora of things, more than you could’ve imagined. you admired neuvillette, he knew that very well. experience was definitely something he didn’t lack.

but some things… aren’t meant to be shared, especially not whatever you were asking for.

“its not that big of a deal,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “you said you would teach me anything.”

“please, it's unwise to joke about things like that,” neuvillette says. he looks at you for any hints of a smile, a giggle, anything to indicate that you were joking. he sees nothingー just you with your head slightly tilted, waiting patiently for his answer. quite cute, he must admit.

look, he understands that you are a curious person; you’re always up for expanding your knowledge. but isn’t this… a little too much? asking him to teach you how to give a blowjob? it's not like he didn’t have experience with… that. but this topic wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he said you could ask him anything.

but neuvillette has a soft spot for you; he’s come to grow fond of you. what started from him finding it annoying how you pester him on the daily, to him looking forward to seeing you as an escape from his work. you’re like a breath of fresh air. he has no obligation to, but he feels like it's his job to guide and protect you.

the room fills with silence, and you attempt to draw an answer out of him again. he’ll probably give in, you think. after all, he does have a soft spot for you. “oh, but i’m not joking,” you rebutted. “why won’t you teach me?” you try again, hoping your question would be answered.

its silent yet again, the lack of response making you click your tongue. its hard to figure out how he’s feeling, because the look on his face tells you nothing. that’s when you thought you could tease him a little to get a reaction out of him, if that would even work.

“how disappointing. i suppose i’ll just have to ask someone else, maybe wriothesley? i’m sure he’ll be happy to teach me.”

the mention of another man’s name has his attention back onto you immediately. sure, he’s hesitant on teaching you about pleasuring someone. but no way is he going to let you ask someone else about this; he won’t allow it. won’t even consider it. the image of you sucking another man off has him furrowing his eyebrows.

“what do you think? or maybe i should askー”

“i think that’s enough, y/n.”

at this point, you think you might’ve actually made him angry. he’s never sounded this strict with you before, it almost sounds like he’s about to give you a whole lecture on why you shouldn’t be asking for these types of things. but he doesn’t.

it’s such a dirty act, it feels terribly wrong, but he simply couldn’t deprive you of such knowledge. if something like this piques your curiosity, then he will go along with it to satisfy you.

neuvillette clears his throat, composing himself. “i will only teach you onceー once and we won’t speak about this again. does that sound alright?”

he sees your face light up in an instant, nodding eagerly. “thank you, neuvillette! i will be forever grateful!” you exclaim, and he feels his cock twitch in his pants. fuck, he thinks. you’re going to be the death of him.

“kneel for me,” he asks of you, and you lower yourself obediently. you’re directly facing his crotch, and embarrassment creeps onto you. you shy away from the image in front of you, nervously playing with your fingers. your face is flushed red no matter how hard you try to hide it.

he notices immediately, hand reaching to stroke your hair, intending to provide some sort of comfort and reassurance. “are you nervous?” he questions, and you nod slowly.

“oh, love. don’t be nervous. i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

your heart jumps at the pet name, eyes widening. that felt way too good to hear. you don’t ask if he called you that by mistake, partially because you were too eager to proceed, but also because you didn’t want him to correct himselfー if it was even a mistake at all. “please do, neuvillette,” you urge.

he finally releases his cock from the confines of his pants, hard and erect as it lightly slaps your cheek when he pulls it out.

you almost start drooling at his length. it was so large, so long, so thick. you haven’t even put it in your mouth and you’re already starting to think about how it would feel inside you. the pink tip leaks pearly drops of pre-cum. your hands reach up to his cock immediately, and he hisses.

“eager now, are we?” he teases, while you’re still in awe over his impressive size. he silently chuckles at how you admire his length, almost like you just found treasure. “have you ever seen a cock, y/n?”

you’ve… seen a few. not in real life though, and definitely none similar to his size. it's different, in a good way, seeing it up-close. it’s even more special because it's neuvillette. “not in real lifeー not like this, no.”

“i see,” he says, exhaling as he pulls your hand off, giving himself a couple of pumps. were you really that pure? it makes him so hard.

“are you ready? listen very carefully, yes?” he guides his cock onto your lips, tapping a few times. “take it in slowly, and ensure your teeth don’t touch,” he tells you.

he taps his cock on your lips again, and you open your mouth again without any hesitation. he guides his cock into your mouth inch by inch, and you taste his pre-cum on your tongue immediately. a tad bit salty, but you can take it.

“y/nー oh…” he sighs in pleasure as he feels your mouth wrap around his cock-head. he was in heavenー your mouth was so warm and wet, he could barely control himself from fucking into your face. he should be the one composed, he should be the one staying calm, he’s the one teaching you for fuck’s sake; yet he’s the one struggling as you start taking his cock further into your mouth.

“just like that, a little moreー mmh… thats it,” his breath hitches when he feels the tip hit the back of your throat. he was so deep in, but he wanted to just thrust it in further. you took it so well, he thinks. not even gagging like he expected you to, and no teeth just like he told you to. how obedient.

you adjusted your mouth on his cock as your drool started dripping down onto your lap. your hand reaches up to stroke what you couldn’t take in, and it elicits a gasp from him. he doesn’t instruct you to, but you start moving on your own as if you’ve done it before.

you drench his cock with your saliva as you suck him off, your hands holding his thighs for support.

“such a good girl, y/n. you take my cock so wellー don’t even need to teach you,” he praises and you hum around him as a form of thanks. you take that as motivation as you suck faster, occasionally swirling your tongue on the tip. you tongue his slit, licking up every drop of pre-cum that leaks.

he throws his head back when you take him particularly deep in your throat, and he almost couldn’t take it anymore. he stops you, pulling you off his cock. copious amounts of saliva drip out, a string of saliva connecting his cock to your mouth.

this was a sight he could only ever see in his dreams. your lips swollen, cheeks flushed red, your eyes tearyー god, he loves you, he really loves you. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful even with your face covered in your own spit. this does it for him.

“stay put, and let me fuck your face, alright? can you handle it, love?” there it was again, calling you ‘love’. you’re smitten, you’d do anything after hearing him call you that. “iー i can handle it.”

neuvillette smiles, wiping off some of the drool on your face before he slides his cock inside your mouth again. “as expected of my good girl.”

his hands hold the sides of your head for stability, slowly thrusting into your mouth to test the waters. when he’s sure you’re okay, he starts fucking into your face, making sure you feel every inch of his cock down your throat.

he can’t stopー he’s addicted. truth be told, he’s been deprived of sexual pleasure for so long, it felt like heaven. you took him so deep with no complaints, you deserve so much more for being so good to him. he can’t stop thrusting into your mouthー it feels like he was fucking a pussy.

and then thoughts of fucking you invade his mind. if you’ve never given a blowjob before, surely that would mean you’ve never had sex, which makes you a virgin. fuck, he wants to take you so bad. you’d be so tight, so warm, so sweet. would you like to know about sex too, then? would you let him take you?

he’s brought back to reality as your hand grips his thighs, signaling for him to stop. he thinks he might’ve hurt you, but you continue to your administrations. he’s so close, he feels his climax approaching, but he needs slightly more.

“give me your hand,” he requests, and you raise your hand up. he takes it gently, guiding it his balls as he squeezes them. “yeahー ah, keep doing that.”

what a fast learner you are. you massage his balls as you continuing to deep-throat him. the grip on your hair was getting tighter, louder groans coming out from him. “you’re going to make me cum, love. god, i’m so close.”

he breaks when you take him in so deep, he sees a bulge in your throat. it was his last straw. “ohー fuuuck…” he thrusts into you as he blows his load straight down your throat. you didn’t even have time to taste him or even react, widening your eyes as he throws his head back.

he pants, pulling his cock out slightly till only the tip was left in your mouth, pumping out weak spurts of cum. you swallowed it all, even going so far as to licking him clean of any remnants of cum.

neuvillette is a mess. you’re a mess. he’s so far gone, he still feels the effects of his climax. he pulls you off his cock, helping you up before tucking himself back in his pants.

“are you alright, y/n? are you hurt? my apologies, i should have asked for your permission,” he caresses your cheek, referring to how he came in your mouth. you shook your head. “it’s fineー i… liked it.”

“oh? how naughty,” he scolds, smoothing your messy hair down from how he gripped it earlier. “so, was this a helpful lesson, y/n? do you know nowー how to pleasure someone?”

you nodded. “really insightful. thank you, neuvillette. but…”

“but?”

“maybe... you can teach me what an orgasm feels like next?”

“i see. i will gladly indulge.”

ー @yuki-world

#雪| 那维莱特 neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette smut #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader smut

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jellipuff · 4 months

Text

Pretty.

Pairing: Sub!Mingyu x reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut (18+, Minors dni!).

Wordcount: 4.2k

Summary: His interest in you was shocking. Star player Mingyu crushing on you? Who knew two years later that calling him pretty was all that was needed for him to fall deeper and who knew for him to get his way all he had to be was pretty? Short answer: you both knew.

Warnings: sub!mingyu!!, established relationship, football player mingyu, idk if this is gn!reader but i don’t think i mention anything too gender-related, Slight pwp, this is literally just reader fingerfucking Gyu with a side of fluff, anal play (m receiving), he's so spoiled, and a lil slutty, reader records them, slight exhibitionism(no one walks in but there are people in the house while they do this), mingyu just can't be quiet no matter how much he tries to say he can :(, reader teases gyu bc he’s cute, he just wants to be called pretty 24/7. (i think that's it?)

A/n: this is my first time writing in forever & my first time writing for svt. I can barely find any sub!svt fics especially mingyu so I thought let me write em myself 🙄. I hope its okay though LOL. also if you don't like it, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend. Feedback is appreciated :)

You and Mingyu have been together since sophomore year. You both go to the same college and shared a few classes that year. Classes that weren't too important but important enough for it to affect your grade, school is just like that.

You heard about him in freshman year. He was admired by those around him for his athleticism in football. Quickly becoming one of the best players resulting in him being liked by not only his team but others as well. You didn't really know him then though, not caring to honestly. He was a wonderful football player, the crowd around him either being the same or being interested in it.

Oh, and interested in him.

Mingyu is a stunner, his looks giving him many opportunities in more ways than one. You would hear about how good in bed he was from people talking a bit too loudly in a library. When you’d go to parties with your friends you'd also see how people would try to get his attention. You’d watch as women threw themselves at him in hopes of being the one he takes to bed that night.

So you could see how you were surprised when he seemed to show interest in you.

You're not knocking yourself, you're beautiful and your personality shines just as much. It's just you and mingyu don't seem to have any compatibility if the things you know about him are anything to go by. “He manhandled me so well”, “Our first date was to see the new Fast & Furious.”, “He's so handsome.”

Sure none of those things are bad per se. You just know yourself well enough to know that when you think about mingyu just a little longer than you should that you want to manhandle him.

That if you were to go on a first date you'd want to take him to a cat cafe just to see how this puppy of a man would interact with them. That when you look at mingyu you know he is handsome but you can only seem to think he’s so pretty.

When you got paired together in two of your classes for a project you didn't know if you were fine with it or not. You don't know his work ethic or how his grades are, he shows up to class every day but does he actually care about his grades?

Though as he smiled brightly on his way over to you when your names were called together for the second time that day, you didn't seem to care too much about any of those things.

“Seems like fate huh?” he says with a grin as he sits by you. “What does?” you ask while pulling up a blank PowerPoint. “Us being a couple.” he says flirtatiously and you can't help but give him a look. “You mean us being project partners.” you reprimand but he waves you off.

“Same thing as what I said, either way, it happened twice. So that means it's fate.” he says taking your pink glitter pen to write both your names on the paper you were given. You watch as he draws a little smiling puppy and then a grumpy cat side by side underneath. He turns to you with a pretty smile, pleased at his artwork.

“Look it's us! You’re the grumpy cat.” he giggles and you think if he weren't so cute you'd tell him to find a different partner. Yet you don't tell him that nor do you tell him that this professor only allows blue or black ink.

You think that's the first time you realized maybe you got mingyu all wrong. Maybe he isn't just a jock who watches Fast and Furious and is strong in bed. You also realize this another time.

You and mingyu were doing your meet-up at his place. When he told you he has roommates you almost wanted to cancel on him. An apartment lived in by men sadly only filled your mind with overthinking.

What if it stunk? What if his room was messy? What if his roommates were creepy? You'd like to think mingyu wouldn't let them be weird toward you and that sedates your worries slightly.

As you walk into his place though you’re met with the smell of food cooking and shouting in the living room. Walking in further you see a game of Mario Kart being played and the smell is from the spaghetti being cooked by a man who smiles when he sees Mingyu.

The atmosphere was nice, leaving you to relax a bit from before. Mingyu introduced you to them all, telling them you're going into his room to work on a project not to fuck as his friend Seungkwan had joked. The way mingyu seemed to be flustered at his friend's joke is what leaves you amused.

The thought of him getting shy at being accused of something he is apparently good at and known for is cute. You learn the man cooking is Joshua, and you compliment him on the smell. He laughs; thanking you before saying “For once Mingyu’s crush has good taste.” he teases and Mingyu freezes.

He looks at you with wide eyes cheeks flushing at Joshua's slip of the tongue. “He’s just joking like he jokes like that a lot you know.” he hurries to say and you feel amused. “Uh huh.” you reply and Mingyu feels the need to make you believe he does not like you because what if you find that weird? You haven't shown interest in him at all.

“Yeah, he's dumb you know cause like I could never have a crush on you so what is he even saying?” he finishes with an awkward laugh. He doesn't see the way your smile falls and the way Joshua watches the whole thing unfold in horror. Feeling the need to check if his tall friend hit his head somewhere.

When mingyu does look back at you though he's met with a look he can't read but one that makes him feel like he wants to sink into the floor. “Let's just get this over with okay?” you say coldly and he feels like crying.

Sure he can handle heavy tackles, can handle sometimes getting bad grades, and can handle everyone thinking of him in ways that he isn’t. Right here and right now though? Mingyu realizes he can't handle feeling anything from you that isn't your usual warm sarcasm or soft smile. He realizes that seeing you dismiss him so seriously hurts him, it makes him small in a bad way.

So when you both get to his room and work in silence he thinks he'd rather die from embarrassment at the confession he's going to give than die from the pain of having you not glance his way once in the past hour.

“Um..you know I didn't mean that.” You don't look up when you hum in confusion instead focusing on the information you’re typing. “When I said that I could never have a crush on you I…I didn’t mean that because I do…have a crush on you.” he admits shyly but he doesn't look away. Needing you to understand that what he said earlier couldn't be further from true.

For what seems like forever you finally look at him and just your gaze makes his stomach feel funny. You stare at him, watching him try his hardest to not look away. Seeing his hands fidget from you observing him silently.

You think that right now mingyu looks the prettiest he ever has. His eyes not leaving yours to show his sincerity, blush covering from his ears to his cheeks, and knees to his chest. Leaving his feelings on the table must be scary for him. You know how mingyu feels about this.

He’s told you a few times how people always think they know what he likes, how he feels, and what he thinks. So he never says them, and never is honest with those who aren't close to him. Knowing that with others it's more like they set up what he should like, feel, and think.

Mingyu watches you smile, the warmest one he’s seen from you. Just that alone has him feeling better and then you shock him. “You're so pretty Gyu.” you say with so much admiration he short circuits.

Pretty? You think he's pretty? He's handsome he knows that everyone always tells him that but.. Pretty? Mingyu has never been associated with that and he feels fuzzy at it.

“Pretty?” he questions aloud and you hum with no hesitation “So pretty.” you repeat and mingyu suddenly feels shy, feeling the need to giggle. “You like being called pretty?” you ask endeared and he nods scooting closer to you. “Yeah, I like it.”

─﹒☆﹒─

However, dating mingyu for two years has left you being pleasantly surprised constantly. So when you figure out your boyfriend wants you to take him here with people around, you think for what feels like the millionth time that you’re surprised again.

You hear the laughter and bickering outside of the room. The only thing blocking you from all of the noise is the bedroom door or should you say that the door is the only thing blocking them from you.

Your attention is only focused on the boy who has your shirt fisted tightly as he brings you down to kiss him deeper. You feel him trying to bring his groin closer to your thigh but failing because you keep it too far. He whines again after another failed attempt at feeling something against him.

You pull back from the kiss with a grin, adoration all you feel for the pretty boy beneath you. “No, want more kisses.” he mewls, trying to pull you back down but you don't budge. “But kisses weren't part of the deal, baby.” You remind him and he looks away annoyed at the agreement he agreed to.

Here on a trip with your boyfriends teammates, friends and some of their partners was a joy. Loving being able to go with him somewhere different even if it's not too far from home. It's the fun that comes from enjoying time with him and being able to see him be complimented by his team.

His efforts and talent being highlighted always leave him with high cheeks that glow from smiling too hard. They all are happy right now. Winning games back to back with a few struggles they overcame felt like a blessing.

Just like having Mingyu underneath you with his cock leaking from just a few kisses is a blessing.

Having to split up into two Airbnbs leaves you and Mingyu with others in the house. Mingyu knew that yet he kept trying to gain your attention. He knew he already had it but he wanted your attention in another way.

You first caught onto his little game when he wore a pair of shorts that he knew you loved on him. The way they hug his hips and leave little to imagine at his thighs never fails to make you want to take him right there.

The thing is though Mingyu only wears those in your apartment. He never wears them anywhere else so there would be no need for him to pack them.

When he noticed you staring at him while he looked through the dresser for something he smiled at you before quickly changing. Saying ‘Oh must have accidentally packed these.” While laughing. Yet the throbbing in your core wasn't funny at all.

“Don't be annoyed baby, you were the one to agree, no?” You ask; sliding his underwear down his legs. “Yeah, but I didn't think you’d be this mean.” You smile, enjoying his sulking.

“Mean? Weren't you the one stringing me along all day baby? Until you finally caved in from your own game. Dragging me to the bathroom just begging for me to play with you. And what did I say?” you question watching his ears flush.

“You..you said only if you get to do what you want.” he replies, causing you to smile. “Mhmm and you said I could do anything I wanted, touch you wherever I would like. Do you remember where I said I wanted to touch you?” you ask and he goes quiet, feeling shy.

He doesn’t answer, head still turned away from you. That just won't do, will it?

You grab his chin, turning his face so he can look at you. “Where did I say I wanted to touch Mingyu?” you repeat harsher. Needing to hear him say it out loud. His eyes stay locked on yours before he says “My butt.” he says quietly and you hum, feeling turned on by how he seems so bashful despite this not being abnormal for you both.

“Good boy. You dragged me to the bathroom just to be told I want to see you spread open for me. You wanna know why?” he nods, wanting to hear you tell him. Yet he feels so needy he beats you to it. “Cause it's pretty, you said I'm prettiest when I take you well.” he answers for you.

You pat his cheek before moving down the bed. “That's right baby, so pretty when you're full of me. So pretty when you take anything I give you.”

You wish mingyu would have packed your strap, would have thought to bring at least a dildo in his lust-hazed mind but he didn't. So you'll just have to finger fuck him until you feel satisfied.

You grab the lube that Mingyu didn't forget to pack while leaning down to kiss him. “Color?” you ask and he smiles. “Green, just wish I could take something bigger” he pouts and you laugh softly at the confession. “Then you wouldn't be able to be quiet, so be thankful.” his brows furrow in offense. “I'm not that loud, I can be quiet.” he defends. “Well guess you better prove that now then huh?”

You take his hand in yours before kissing the back of it. You guide his hand underneath his right knee, leaning over to do the same with the left. Tapping his thigh to signal for him to pull them back and hold them closer to himself. He understands quickly, leaving him bare to the cold air and bare to you.

You rub your middle finger on his rim lightly causing him to sigh. Moving to open the lube you apply some to his hole and your fingers. “I'm going to put one in okay baby?” you alert him and he shakes his head. “Two.” you look up at him in disbelief.

“No, I need to prep you, don’t be greedy.” You tell him causing him to whine. “Two! I need something bigger. I can take it, I always take it well.” “Mingyu–” you try to chide.

“Please love, haven't been full in so long. Need to feel you stretch me, miss it.” he bats his lashes, already knowing he has you where he wants you. All he has to do is say a few sweet words, be pretty, and you’d do anything he requests.

“Just tell me if it hurts okay?” you sigh and he smiles, feeling spoiled.

You go back to rubbing his hole a few times before stopping. He looks to see why but you don't meet his gaze. Lust clouding your vision. You need to record him, need to make sure you get a video of him like this. “Gotta film you baby, gotta save it. Is that okay?” you question and he nods.

Loving the feeling of you thinking he’s lovely enough to photograph, lovely enough to be recorded for you to look back on.

You grab your phone from the nightstand before kneeling back on the bed. You open the camera before pressing record. Wasting no time, you slowly inch your two fingers into his hole, watching the way it grips your fingers tightly. You hear Mingyu moan softly, the feeling of you inside him too little but too much at the same time.

“It's pretty?” he asks sweetly and you groan quietly. His warmth surrounds your fingers making your brain feel like it's surrounding you. Making you feel like it's you filling him up, not your fingers, and god how you wish it was.

“Yes baby, it's pretty. All of you is so pretty.” he smiles pulling his legs higher. You point the camera from where your fingers move inside of him up onto his torso and face. Moving faster when you see him look up into the camera.

“Look at you, legs spread wide all for me. What do you think the others would think if they walked in here and saw you like this? Big boy Mingyu, the best player on the team getting his ass played with. Do you think they'd close the door? Or do you think they’d see just how pretty you are?”

His cock jumps at the thought of everyone thinking he's pretty. He only needs to be pretty for you but the thought of them saying it to him makes him groan. At the thought of his teammates, his eyes leave the camera to look at the door, eyeing the knob hoping it's locked only to see it's not.

“Oh no, you forgot to lock the door baby? It's almost like you want them to come in.” you accuse and he shakes his head. Hips starting to rock down to meet where your fingers move just a little faster, still much too slow for him. It leaves him wanting, leaves him jumping at every slide he does get to feel of your fingers on his prostate.

He knows you're missing it on purpose. He knows that you’re only hitting it when you want to and that makes him needier. Makes him have to guess which stroke is going to have to make him bite his lip to quiet his sounds.

You lean back pointing the camera to be focused on his hole as you take your fingers out. He whines at the loss, his hole feeling too empty. His cock lays hard against his stomach, tip flushing pretty against his tan skin. You slide three fingers back into him, the third adding a stretch that mingyu craved.

The stinging is so pleasurable it has him moaning your name. You and your touch are the only thing plaguing his mind.

“You gotta be quiet baby remember? I haven't even touched your dick yet and you're being loud. It's like you want everyone to hear you. Like you want them to walk in and watch.”

He shakes his head quickly even though his cock jumps at the idea. “No!” he whines. You shake your head in faux disappointment. Lifting the camera to his face, his glossy eyes finding it quickly. “Baby told me he’d be quiet and I believed him. Yet he’s such a slut for his ass being stuffed that he can't shut up.” you chastise.

“I c..can be quiet.” he stutters lowly. “Yeah?” you ask and he nods, going to respond yet cut off by you finding the spot that has his back arching off the bed.

You don't relent your movements only seeming to increase. He can't help but cry out, the sounds leaving him bounce off the walls causing you to feel aflame

“Fuck, baby. You look so pretty.” you groan. He doesn’t answer instead putting his hand over his mouth as you abuse his prostate nonstop, his thighs shaking yet never faltering from their position. “Grab your cock Gyu, don't you think it'd feel good baby?” You order him and he looks up at you nervously.

If he takes his hand off his mouth he doesn't think he’d be able to be silent especially if he jerks himself off while you finger him.

Though that's what you want.

You want to see him cum, want to see his jaw slack and cock twitch when he makes a mess of himself. To hear him cry your name out because that's all that pops into his pretty little head. He removes his hand from his mouth slowly, bringing it down to hold his cock: unmoving. “Go on baby.” his eyes flicker from the camera to his cock before pumping it slowly.

The feeling makes him sigh. Your fingers slow down so as to not overwhelm him. “Feel good?” you question and he looks back to you. Pink lips shining and eyes glossy. “Yeah..” he trails off quietly. You smile, your panties left wet from this.

His effort, his beauty, his warmth, all of it makes you go crazy.

You pick up your pace again. Fingers fucking against his prostate unrelenting causing pleasure to overtake him so fast he almost forgets how to stroke his cock. You smile as his hand stutters and his eyes roll back. You look at the camera seeing the way his sweat makes his skin shine.

“What's wrong Gyu? Why’d you stop?” you question, voice laced with faux confusion. He looks up into the camera. His face is so pretty you think you could cum just from seeing him like this.

Even though he's not necessarily staring at you it feels like he only sees you, the phone not even in his vision.

“Can’t Y/n, can't.” he cries out. His lip quivering, he feels so good, loves you so much. He needs your help. Only you know how to ruin him so good, touch him in a way he never can. “Need my help baby?” You inquire and he nods.

His brain is too fuzzy, all he wants is for you to make him cum. Wants to feel your touch everywhere. You grab his cock tightly before pumping him quickly. “Yes, yes..“ he moans out. Hands pulling his thighs closer, hoping maybe it'll let him feel you more.

Suddenly the noise from in the house gets louder, cheering for something unknown being heard. “What do you think they'd say if they knew they were in our video baby? Knew that their voices could be heard while I film me fingerfucking you?” you question before squeezing him tighter. Strokes gliding easily from how messy he already is.

“Ahhh, good s’good!” he moans. Not caring about how his voice is getting louder and how the house is suddenly getting quieter.

“Y/n…y/n!” he cries hips moving up and down. Trying to pull more pleasure from wherever he can get it. “Close baby?” you ask lowly.

“Mmm! feels good, feels so good. Wish it was deeper.” he whimpers out. “I’ll just have to keep you stretched till we go home tomorrow then huh? Then I’ll fuck you deep baby, make you feel me here.” You press your palm on his stomach and the action sends him over the edge.

His stomach tenses and his eyes open to find yours once more. He needs to see you while he cums, to see how you look down at where his cum lands on his stomach while some drips down your hand.

Your name falls from his lips in a sob, letting the whole house know who makes him feel like this. Letting them know who makes star football player Mingyu sound like this.

You take your fingers out of his hole he whines at the slide of them. Pointing the camera to where his hole is now empty. Watching as he clenches around nothing as if to entice you back in. You moan at the sight, such a pretty hole on your pretty boy. You turn the camera off, throwing your phone to the side.

“Was I pretty?” he asks when you lean over him to kiss his neck. “The prettiest.” you admit truthfully. He giggles, loving how you see him.

“Want more kisses now.” he pleads and you smile moving to look down at him “You weren't quiet.” you jokingly remind him. Mingyu whines, feeling frustrated from his lack of kisses. “Don't care. You like it when everyone knows how much of a mess you make me. So shh and give me my kisses.” he vocalizes pulling you closer to him.

You laugh and kiss him lovingly. His lips are always soft and inviting as you press yours to his. Neither of you moves back until your lungs beg for air.

He leans up for one more peck before laying back against the pillows with a pretty grin. “So what I’m hearing is you weren't even trying to be quiet.” you tease; standing up and helping him lean against the headboard. You help him put his clothes on so you can head to the shower. Sure the bathroom is right across the hall but you don't want to risk the chance of someone seeing Mingyu walking; ass out.

“I was trying.” he replies causing you to roll your eyes. “Sure gyu.” You don't even have to look at him to see his leg bounce. “I was!” you only laugh at his insistence.

“Whatever just be quiet from here to the bathroom, then maybe I’ll give you more kisses.” You open the door and look over your shoulder to see him close behind, mouth shut. You giggle at his cuteness.

He knows it's an empty threat, He’s just too pretty that you'd give him anything no matter what he does.

You both know that.

#mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu #dom!reader #svt x dom!reader #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #svt x reader #sub!svt #svt smut #svt fluff #sub!idol #svt imagines #svt fanfic

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vixstarria · 4 months

Text

A night at the inn (part 3)

Vampire bites as an aphrodisiac edition

Part 1 (fluff to smut) ~ Part 2 (just smut) (Is it required reading? Ehh... But you might as well, no?)

This one gets a bit deranged.

Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader x Halsin

18+, smut, threesome, porn no plot, dirty talk, oral sex, PIV, blood drinking, soft dom Astarion, Astarion being a little shit, Halsin being rudely awakened in order to fuck nasty style again

Approx. 3,000 words this time (I uh... I don't know)

The first thought in your mind when you regained consciousness was “did that really happen?”, along with a flashback to the two elves in and around you. Halsin’s gentle, towering bulk. And Astarion finally allowing you to pleasure him, if only a little bit.

You picked up the sound of Halsin snoring on the other bed. His favoured wildshape was all too fitting - he certainly sounded like a bear now. Weren’t elves supposed to trance? Silently?

...So it happened. It really happened. ...It was going to be an interesting day.

You opened your eyes.

Astarion was already awake, lying beside you and admiring you through his lashes, a light smile on his face. It deepened when you met his gaze.

Your immediate impulse was to ask him about last night, but you held your tongue, instead looking for answers in his eyes.

No darkness, nothing that resembled shame or regret... Only warmth and affection as he softly ran the back of his fingers down your cheek until they reached your chin, to gently tilt it towards him, drawing you for a kiss.

It was soft at first. Just your lips brushing and lingering on each other’s, until with a soft sigh he drew you in deeper.

He traced the inner edge of your upper lip with his tongue. It tickled, and you parted your lips, letting him in. You tried to brush your tongue against his, but he retracted it as soon as you moved. Only once you held still did he return with his tongue, running it in circles around the tip of yours, running it up your tongue’s underside, teasing. It was so distinct, it was almost...

You gasped with a sharp intake of breath when you realised what he was doing.

These were the motions of your tongue on the head of his cock last night. This whole kiss was a vulgar, teasing reminder of what you’d done for him. His way of showing you that he hadn’t forgotten about it, that it’s been on his mind.

Gods... It felt so obscene.

You moaned as he brought your naked body closer to his partially clothed form, holding you close, a fire starting to reignite between your legs already.

His lips split into a grin in the knowledge that you’d caught on, and he broke the kiss, giving you an unabashed look full of lust.

“Will you let me do it again?” you whisper, hoarsely.

“In time...” he replied. “For now there’s more I want to do to you.”

“To me?”

He grinned, mischievously, then glanced at Halsin’s sleeping mass.

“For both of us to do to you, actually. If you want to try something new?”

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“For one, Halsin's still asleep,” you said. Astarion rolled his eyes at you.

“Psst, Halsin. ...Halsin. ...Halsin! ...HALSIN!” Astarion hurled a pillow at the groggy druid, who somehow managed to catch it in midair before it smashed into his face.

“Hmm?” a low rumble reverberated in his chest as he stirred awake.

“Do you want to try something?”

“...What?”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“...Yes.”

Halsin, still half-asleep, opened his eyes to observe the two of you as Astarion turned back to you, rolling on top and continuing in a louder voice.

“See? Problem solved. Anyway. I was thinking... You say your body stays sensitive around the puncture wounds for a long time after I bite you,” he said, running his fingers delicately along the wounds on your neck.

“It’s still tender,” you nodded, relishing his touch.

“Tender how?” he asked softly, lowering his lips to the marks on your neck.

“It feels... sweet. Like I don’t want you to ever stop touching it,” you said, closing your eyes and revelling in the sensation. “I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“A vampire’s bite has aphrodisiac properties,” offered Halsin. “It is well-known.”

“What if I were to bite you somewhere more... interesting.” Astarion began to kiss further down, grazing you with his fangs without drawing blood. Halsin, more awake now, propped himself up on his elbow to lie on his side.

“Where?” you breathed as Astarion continued on his way down, pausing to suck on a nipple. He only smiled and kept trailing soft kisses down your stomach, gradually pulling the covers off you as he went lower, until he reached your upper inner thighs.

“What if...” he purred, starting to run his tongue along your outer folds, making you moan and spread your legs wider for him. “I left a gentle little bite right here...” He continued to run his tongue on your skin, just between your opening and your thigh. “Do you think you would like that..?” Before you could answer, he added: “Oh, and it’s incredibly distracting when you’re so wet while I’m trying to talk to you,” before plunging his tongue inside you as you gasped.

“Did you wake me merely so I could watch?” Halsin asked, reaching down to stroke his growing erection.

Astarion gestured for him to wait.

“Do it,” you moaned. “Bite me there.”

Astarion continued to lap at your hole, running his hands along your thighs, holding them open.

“Stop teasing, damn you!” you hissed.

Astarion chuckled and moved his head to lick you just outside your opening, sucking your lip into his mouth. Suddenly his grip on your thighs tightened and before you knew it, you felt a sharp icy pang. You whined as he continued to suck, this time drawing blood. The pain quickly dissipated and turned into a titillating sensation that spread throughout your sex.

Astarion lifted his head, sitting up and inserting two fingers into you.

“Now how does that feel, darling?”

“Good... So good...” you groaned, spreading your legs wider for him, bucking your hips to ride his fingers. It felt like an insatiable, throbbing itch, his fingers your only salvation.

“I must tell you,” you heard Halsin. “I overheard some of your remarks about wood elves earlier. And you would do well to trust me that few of my brethren are as depraved as you.”

Astarion ignored the druid, absorbed in watching you writhe.

“Do you like it? Do you want more? You do, don’t you... We can give you more...” You whimpered as Astarion continued to slowly fuck you with his fingers. “But first... What if I bite you somewhere else?”

His tongue returned between your legs, licking higher and higher, until it circled your bundle of nerves.

“Just a tiny little nick, right above your sweet nub. I’ll be very careful, I promise,” he murmured right against your clit, in between licks, as you mewled. “I’ll be gentle... And then I’ll kiss it better. I’ll kiss it, lick it, suck it better...”

“I stand corrected... None of my people can rival you in perversion,” said Halsin.

Meanwhile, your fingers were tangled in Astarion’s hair as he continued to tease you with his fingers and tongue. As good as it felt, the only word in your mind was ‘more’.

“Do it,” you say, hoarsely. “I want to know how it feels.”

Astarion chuckled, turning to Halsin.

“You druids have an intrinsic urge to tend to helpless creatures in need, do you not?” Astarion said, as Halsin continued to stroke himself. “This helpless creature is about to be in great need.” He looked up at you, hungrily. “Try to hold still, my love.”

This time the pang made you yelp and lurch up in shock, your hands grabbing at the bedsheets. But the pain subsided as quickly as it came on, replaced by an unquenchable burning need.

It throbbed. It pulsed. It begged to be touched.

Astarion did as he promised licking and sucking on your clit, his cool tongue like a salve, but before you could find any kind of release, he abruptly rose, pinning your arms above your head as you groaned in protest.

“My, look at this predicament you’ve gotten yourself into again, pet...”

“Please... please... anything... I’ll do anything you say.” you begged. Your need could not be ignored like this. You tried to squeeze your legs together for some friction, but he was keeping your legs spread open with his own thighs. Maybe if you told him what you wanted he would cut this agony short..? “Touch me... Fuck me... Anything..!”

“What did I tell you?” he said, turning to Halsin. “But my sweet,” he said turning back to you. “You said you wanted to know what it felt like. Maybe we should leave you like this so you can study and savour the sensation.”

“Astarion?” you managed, swallowing hard.

“Yes, darling?”

“Fuck you, Astarion,” you hissed through your teeth. You turned to the druid, looking him in the eyes and bucking your hips in desperation. “Halsin..?”

“Give her to me,” the druid growled.

“Oh no! There will be no mutiny! Make no mistake, I’m still the one calling the shots here,” Astarion laughed. “...But seeing as you’re all so eager – sure.” He released your hands and raised you into a sitting position. “On the edge of the bed,” he gestured to Halsin, the druid complying without another word. “And you...” he held you by your jaw, his voice lowering. “I’ll let that slip by, but if you want me to allow you any relief, you will behave.”

You nodded, whimpering.

“Now do you want to ride his cock?”

“Yes,” you panted. Astarion just raised an eyebrow and didn’t make a move. “Yes, please, can I?”

“She’s yours,” he said to Halsin, with a smirk.

Suddenly you were lifted and found yourself on the druid’s lap on the opposite bed, your back against him, both of you facing Astarion.

“You can fuck that needy hole of hers all you want, but don’t touch her between her legs,” he said, reclining to admire his handiwork.

You were gliding your slit along Halsin’s shaft, covering his erection with your juices. It was something, but not nearly enough.

Halsin lifted you and began to ease you onto his cock, once again slowly, inch by inch.

“You don’t need to be so gentle,” you groaned.

“No no, slow and gentle is exactly what she deserves right now,” Astarion interjected, as you swore under your breath. “And don’t you dare touch yourself,” he said to you. You knew better than to defy him, and clutched at Halsin instead.

Halsin’s hands remained on the undersides of your thighs, your legs opened wide for Astarion’s devouring eyes, gripping you as he worked his cock inside you, raising and lowering your body along his length. It was agonisingly slow, and though it appeased the itch from Astarion’s lower bite, somewhat, it did nothing for your throbbing clit.

“You said you’d kiss it better, you fucking liar,” you threw at Astarion, your voice thick.

“What did I say about behaving?” said Astarion.

“Astarion, it hurts without you,” you groaned. “Please? My love..? I’m begging you.”

Astarion sighed dramatically, finally getting off the bed to kneel on the floor in front of you.

“Well we don’t want you in pain,” he murmured.

Finally, you felt Astarion’s mouth on your swollen sex, as he stroked your clit with his tongue. A moan tore from your throat as Halsin sped up the bucking of his hips, his thrusts in time with the strokes of Astarion’s tongue. This. This was what you had been craving so badly. The druid stretched and filled you completely, while Astarion’s tongue brought you to the edge of madness. And you could do absolutely nothing but accept and embrace what was happening to you. It wasn’t long before your whole body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, Halsin holding you tightly against him.

Once you’d regained your senses, you noticed that somewhere along the way Astarion had completely discarded his pants, and was now stroking himself with one hand, as he rubbed a thumb over your oversensitive clit.

“Hmm,” he hummed, studying it. “I don’t think it’s better yet.”

You nearly screamed as he went right back to sucking on it, alternating that with quick flicks of his tongue.

“Shh, sweet one...” Halsin breathed in your ear, placing a hand over your mouth, and lifting your hand into his hair with the other. “Yank on it hard if it’s too much. Can you do that?” You whimpered a ‘mmhmm’ as you grabbed a fistful.

Halsin leaned back on the bed so you were half-lying on top of him, your head thrown over his shoulder, as Astarion held your thighs open.

Astarion showed you no mercy as he lapped at you. Halsin sped up again, as you let out keening moans into his hand, losing your mind. There was no easing and relaxing into this - this orgasm was forced out of you, and you loved every second of it. Within a minute you came again, your thighs twitching violently.

Halsin groaned as you spasmed around him again.

“I cannot do this anymore... If she clenches around me like that again I will lose it.”

The druid slipped out of you and you were once again gliding along the length of his shaft, rubbing yourself against it.

Astarion lifted his mouth from you, wiping your wetness from his chin, as Halsin raised you back into a sitting position.

“He’s been so very patient with you, pet. Do you want to show your appreciation?”

“How?” you whispered, licking your lips.

“I think you already know how,” he murmured. “Come here. On your knees.”

You all but collapsed on the floor next to Astarion, your legs unsteady, looking up at Halsin.

“Taste him,” Astarion encouraged you. “You haven’t yet.”

“Oakfather preserve me,” Halsin groaned as you took his engorged, leaking cock into your hand. You were facing a dilemma. You didn’t think you could fit him into your mouth without dislocating your jaw. Instead you began by licking your juices off his length, savouring your own taste.

“Good girl,” Astarion purred next to you, sliding two fingers into your still throbbing pussy, as he stroked himself with his other hand.

You moaned and moved up to the head of Halsin’s cock with your mouth, licking up his precum, as the druid brushed your hair off your face and held it back for you. No, this wasn’t going to work. Instead you worked him with your hand as you moved down to lick and suck on his balls.

“I’m close,” Halsin groaned, throwing his head back, his fingernails scraping against your scalp.

“Suck on the head,” Astarion whispered beside you, continuing to dig his fingers into you, rougher now. “You can manage it.”

You moaned as you worked the tip of his penis into your mouth, slurping and sucking around it, wetly. This much you could do.

“Good...” Astarion whispered hoarsely, moving behind you. He was starting to shudder as he bit down on your shoulder, not hard enough to draw blood, continuing his efforts to tear another orgasm out of you. He couldn’t have been far himself. “Make him come.”

Halsin’s cock twitched and pulsed in warning as you continued, the druid’s grip on your hair tightening.

“Swallow,” Astarion commanded, just as the druid finally spilled in your mouth. You glimpsed a few more strokes of Astarion’s hand from the corner of your eye, and you felt Astarion’s spend land in spurts on your back.

You sat back with a frustrated groan. His fingers inside you hadn’t been enough.

“My poor little minx...” Astarion murmured, catching his breath, kissing your neck up to your ear from behind you. “I know what you need. You’ve earned it.” He moved his hand to finally rub your clit again, massaging it roughly and deliberately. “Can you come for me one more time?” he whispered in your ear. “And here, let me taste him too.”

You came completely undone once Astarion’s tongue swirled hungrily against yours, as he continued to methodically work on your swollen clit, moaning and whimpering into his mouth through your climax.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you said a short while later, relaxing in Astarion’s embrace after he'd cleaned the better part of your combined cum from your body. It was mid-morning by then. Miraculously, no one had come to bang on your door to try to get a move on, but then again anyone in the vicinity of the room would’ve immediately understood what was happening inside.

“Shall I go tell everyone you’re unwell, darling?” Astarion asked with a grin.

“Don’t you fucking dare speak to anyone about this or me, you’re staying right here,” you said as he laughed “...I don’t think they will be impressed that we’re all delayed because I’ve been fucked into incapacity,” you added.

“Oh on the contrary, I think they will be VERY impressed,“ said Astarion.

“I’ll go tell them you’re currently indisposed. ...A tad more tactfully. And I’ll see to it that a bath is prepared for you,” said Halsin, getting up and getting dressed.

“Thank you, Halsin... You are a blessing,” you said, shutting your eyes and falling back against Astarion as he left kisses along the side of your face.

Halsin hesitated at the door.

“Before I leave this room, I must know... Once this door shuts behind me, is... this-” he gestured at the three of you, “staying behind as well? Or can the future hold something for us?” The druid would accept whichever answer you gave him, but you could tell he was a hair’s breadth from a pained expression.

You and Astarion exchanged a look. You had gotten good at silent communication. It was Astarion who finally spoke.

“It doesn’t have to stay behind. You’ve been better for us than you might realize,” he shook his head with a small smile. “But let’s talk about that later.”

“I am glad,” Halsin said, smiling, before leaving.

“You think catnip is difficult to live down?” You groaned again, once Halsin was gone, twisting and hiding your face in Astarion’s neck.

“You should be proud,” he chuckled, hugging you tighter. “How do you feel..?”

“Fine, right now... It still throbs a bit, but I can ignore it. But it's been coming on in waves, I don’t know if there’s another coming or how big it might be.”

“Let me know if one does, I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, kissing you.

“Astarion?” you murmured, breaking the kiss.

“Hmm?”

“Can we do this again? Just the two of us? Later.”

You both knew what you meant by ‘later’.

“Greedy...” he smiled. “But yes. Once all this is behind us and we can just lounge in bed all day and night.”

“I can’t wait,” you whispered.

~~~~~

AO3

Next in series

Series masterlist

~~~~~

Tags: @twirlywhirlywriting - Hi! You are the reason this happened. I wasn't really planning on a part 3, but it clicked in my brain. Hope it's close enough to what you had in mind. I couldn't really give Halsin a more dom role though, as I think Astarion would lose his shit at this point.

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion smut #halsin smut #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfic #bg3 smut #astarion x halsin x tav #astarion x halsin x reader #halsin

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just-jordie-things · 2 months

Note

K so like its night time and y/n is cuddling with megumi and yuji barges in and sees them both and is like “You’re cuddling with megumi are you guys dating?! :O” then the next day everyone is just asking you “aRe YoU rEaLlY dAtInG mEgUmI???” By the way i love your posts❤️

megumi is just so perfect for secret dating bc he would beg you to keep your relationship a secret, like, right off the bat. like before you're even official- probably before he's even confessed.

omg.

megumi coming to you in a panic and it worries you bc you don't often see him stressed and the boy looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel and you're being so sweet to him meanwhile he's grabbing you by the hands and making you swear to not speak a word of this to yuji or nobara- and definitely not gojo. poor confused you are like "ok sure but what are you talking about??" oops megumi forgot about the part where he's supposed to tell you how much he likes you and thinks that you should give him a chance at making you happy- but we all know that goes well because you're literally in love with him already adlhgkajflkgh

and for a while you're pretty good at sneaking around, because it's sort of fun actually. every secret look or note passed has your heart racing and you wouldn't have it any other way, as long as you have each other.

but after a few months the two of you get fully settled with one another and you start to slip up. with megumi pulling your chair out for you or holding the door for you but not the others, you start to get a few questioning looks. and you might have called him megs in front of the others one time- he might not forgive you for that one because now everyone calls him that to get on his nerves... oops.

it's not like either of you are trying to get caught, you both enjoy the benefits of dating in secret so much, you don't necessarily want to give that up. the others will definitely berate and interrogate you one day for keeping your relationship a secret for so long, but... it's just so nice.

"maybe we tell them when we graduate?" you hum, trying to brainstorm with your boyfriend to find the proper way to break the news.

megumi's chest rumbles under your cheek when he groans. if it were up to him, no one would ever know. surely he could have a successful relationship with you that way, right? it's been easy enough to cover it up so far, surely you could elope and build a life together in secret as well? shit, would gojo take it personally if he didn't tell him he was getting married? suddenly his mind is swarming with what a secret private wedding would look like, meanwhile you're laying against him in sielnce waiting for his response.

"megs..?" you call softly, trying to draw him out of his thoughts.

"maybe we fake our deaths. relocate. how's italy sound?"

you chuckle, tilting your head back to peer up at him.

"you're afraid of gojo, aren't you?" you hum knowingly. megumi glances down at you briefly, looking away as soon as you wiggle your eyebrows. you chuckle again.

"i'd be open to other places, too" he continues his thought.

"i think we should just rip it off like a bandaid," you ignore his getaway plan. "tell them we're together and have been all year. then if they have questions-"

"i'm not answering their questions" his voice is a mere whisper, as not to disturb the calming atmosphere you've created, but his words are final. you tap your finger against his chest a few times.

"i'll answer the questions then, you can just... stand there"

"do i even have to be there?"

"i don't think they'll believe me if you aren't" you giggle at the idea of trying to convince them that yes that stoic moody boy is actually a complete romantic towards you and you never thought a love like yours could be possible.

"are you saying our friends don't think i'm boyfriend material?" he asks, and you know he's baiting you, but you're honest with him anyways.

"that's exactly what i'm saying," you say, grinning up at him despite the scowl of fake hurt on his face. "but i know otherwise"

"fine. we'll tell them. and then you can answer the questions. and i'll... be there. for emotional support"

you giggle some more, tucking yourself further against him while he stares at the ceiling in despair. he already knows all of the questions your friends are going to ask and he can't help but dread them in advance. still, it will be nothing compared to the interrogation he'll surely receive from his guardian, later, when you aren't around to protect him (and his dignity)

"it'll be nice to be able to just say we're going on a date instead of you faking to be sick and me pretending i'm on an assignment. sneaking around was fun and all but..." you trail off, and megumi averts his gaze from the plain ceiling, peeking down at you where you nuzzle into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. he knows you're going to fall asleep on him, because you always do, but he doesn't mind. even if it makes his arm fall asleep. "i don't want to hide how much i love you anymore"

and then his escape plan sounds silly when you put it like that. so he hugs you tighter against him as you start to drift off- he can tell as your head feels a little heavier against his collar- and he brushes his lips over the crown of your head.

"i love you too, sweetheart," he murmurs. "we'll tell them as soon as you want"

he just wasn't expecting the moment to be ruined by his door slamming open and your friends inviting themselves in, only to be shocked at the scene they interrupted.

queue the noisy accusations and questions. megumi tries not to say i told you so as you tiredly sit up and rub your eyes so you can answer all of your friends' curiosities, while he pulls the blanket over his head and tries to pretend he wasn't there.

of course he doesn't want to hide that he loves you... but for fucks' sake do they have to do this here and now????

#megumi brainrot #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #fushiguro megumi fanfiction #megumi imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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luxaofhesperides · 3 months

Text

“You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the windows to your soul’ thing was until I saw yours.” + fluff + cafe AU ; requested by @kiv1!

He’s sure Danny didn’t expect to see him every other day after he casually mentioned that he had gotten a part time job at a local cafe. However, as his friend, it is Duke’s moral duty to only get coffee from that shop while Danny is on shift, specifically to annoy him.

Also, so he can support his friend, but being annoying takes priority.

It’s a routine now, for both of them. Danny clocks in for his shift and an hour later Duke is strolling into the cafe with his eyes locked on Danny’s. The rest of the baristas always shove Danny up to the register when they see Duke, taking over whatever order he was making. Even some of the other regulars turn their attention up to the counter, hoping for another few minutes of entertainment.

Danny sighs as he gets ready to input Duke’s order. It’s never the same one, because Duke would hate to be predictable and make things easier for Danny, but it has the side effect of making him realize that some of the expensive, seasonal drinks are really good.

It’s a bit hard on his wallet, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay for teasing Danny.

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully as he leans against the counter, grinning at Danny.

Danny sighs again. “What can I get you today, random customer that keeps bothering me.”

“A latte, but make it sweet somehow. And iced.”

“What size would you like?”

“Let’s go with medium today.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Duke leans closer to Danny, watching as he fights down a smile. “I just gotta say that you got gorgeous eyes. You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’ was until I saw yours.”

Danny considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “It kind of sounds like your trying to steal my soul through my eyes.”

“Why is that what your mind goes to?”

“Well. I watched Coraline last night.”

Duke stares at Danny, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “...Didn’t you say that movie gave you nightmares as a kid?”

“Yeah! And it turns out, it gives me nightmares even now!”

“And ruined my pick up line,” Duke complains playfully.

“It was too cheesy anyways,” Danny replies, putting Duke’s order into the screen. It prints a moment later, no doubt with some bizarre name since Danny refuses to actually name Duke on his orders, and then recites the price.

He pays and watches as Danny slaps the order onto a medium sized up, then tosses it over to the barista making the drinks. He’s not actually sure what her name is since she refuses to wear a name tag, but she always gives him a wave and also a rating of how good his pick up lines are.

“Seven out of ten!” she calls out to him today, then gets started on making his drink.

“I don’t see why you don’t flirt with anyone else,” Danny says, “I’m pretty sure my coworkers like your pick up lines even more than they like me.”

“Why would I want to flirt with them? Danny, I’m literally only here to bother you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, trust me, I know. My good looks just keep pulling in business.”

He says it like a joke, but it’s true. Duke has noticed it. Danny’s coworkers have noticed it. His manager noticed it and now has him out on the floor every shift. If they can get him to work on the chalkboard sign outside, or wipe down the two tables out front, then they do it, because Danny is Midwestern to his core and it’s very charming in a place like Gotham. He smiles at people as they walk by, happily answers their questions when they ask him what the cafe serves, recommends food and drinks for them, is generally a bright and nice person to everyone who comes near the cafe.

His cute looks draw people in, then his personality makes them stay.

It’s all customer service, of course, because Duke never gets the cute, sunny Danny. He’s left with the sarcastic, rude, and funny Danny that’s been his friend since they met in junior year of high school.

“Your eyes are really pretty, though,” Duke says, “Very blue. Sometimes green. It’s no wonder people keep falling for you!”

Danny reaches across the counter to shove Duke away, but he’s blushing, so Duke is counting it as a win. “Shut up. Now you’re just lying. My eyes are never green.”

“Yes, they are. Danny, I’ve seen them multiple times. They’re green sometimes.”

“No? My eyes have literally only ever been blue. They’re the bluest blue to ever blue. They don’t just turn green.”

They squint at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out who’s wrong and in what way. Duke’s pretty sure Danny’s wrong, since he can’t exactly see his own eyes, and Duke has spent an embarrassing amount of time just admiring how nice they are in different kinds of light. But also, they are Danny’s eyes, so he should know what color they are.

Then Danny’s coworker is setting down Duke’s drink on the pick up counter, giving Danny an excuse to get back to work.

“One medium oatmeal cookie iced latte for Cornelius Aggravating Douglas.” He holds up the drink and makes very direct eye contact with Duke, holding out the drink towards him.

“Did you really have to make the initials ‘Cad’?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Duke says, making Danny crack a smile.

“Are you heading out after this?”

Duke grabs a straw and sticks it into his latte, swirling it around some. “That was the plan, yeah. Got a few library books to pick up. Why?”

“I got approval for a half shift today, so I’m off in like ten minutes, if you wanna wait for me.”

“Hell yeah, dude! I’ll wait outside so I don’t distract you with my flirtatious winks again.”

“Get out of here,” Danny laughs. Duke lifts his drink in a quick toast, then gets out of there. He takes a seat at one of the tables out front, content to just people watch as he slowly sips his latte.

It’s cloudy out, but not raining, which is always a plus. As much as he’d like to see the sun, these kinds of days aren’t so bad, either. The wind still carries a bit of a chill, but the spring is steadily warming things up. There are tons of people out, a constant rush of movement, but a few do catch sight of him, then look towards the cafe, their steps slowing down as they think. Most keep walking, but Duke does manage to get a few to go in just by taking a long sip of his latte to really enjoy it.

Really, he should be getting compensated for the work he’s doing to draw people in. Danny’s not the only one who can do it.

Bruce keeps offering him money, so he doesn’t need to get paid, but maybe he can convince the other employees to talk Danny into accepting one of his pick up lines so they can go on a date one of these days.

It’s become a bit of a joke, but the first time Duke used a cheesy pick up line on Danny, he was being absolutely serious about it. He definitely shouldn’t have used a pick up line he found from a website centered on relationship advice, but he panicked and needed some extra help.

Instead of smoothly asking Danny out on a date, Duke froze up, blurted out the pick up line, then had to laugh it off with Danny and pretend it was a joke.

He still wishes he was able to ask Danny out properly before, but he’s also glad that they got to spend more time as friends, getting to know each other. It’s easier to be with him now, no longer so tongue tied and flustered.

Duke gets to fluster Danny now, which is much better.

And maybe one day his pick up lines will work! Sooner or later Danny’s going to question why he keeps doing this, and then he’ll connect the dots and understand what Duke feels for him.

As it is, he has yet to connect shit.

“My eyes are definitely blue,” Danny says as he walks out of the cafe, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “I checked while I was putting my apron away.”

“You’re still on that?”

“They’re blue.”

Duke gestures for Danny to come closer. He complies and leans down, letting Duke cup his face in his hands. He checks, considers, then checks again, and says, “They are indeed blue.”

“Told you they weren’t green,” Danny says smugly, pulling back.

“And I said they were green sometimes. Now clearly isn’t one of those times, but they do turn green!”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to say any eye-related pick up lines until you admit that you were wrong and didn’t know my eye color.”

Shaking his head, Duke stands up and pushes in his chair. “Just wait, I’ll catch it sometime and prove it to you.”

“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have library books to get?”

“Yeah, you coming with?”

“Obviously. Why else would I leave my wonderful job where I am left alone to make drinks in peace?” Danny knocks his shoulder against Duke playfully, then reaches over and steals his drink right out of his hand. He takes a sip, makes a pleased hum, and drains half of what was left in the cup.

“Hey!” Duke moves to take it back, which is naturally the exact moment Danny takes off running, effortlessly dodging everyone else on the sidewalk. He takes off after Danny, using his powers to make sure he can move out of the way of anything or anyone who gets in his path.

They’re past the block when Danny starts to slow down, taking another sip of Duke’s latte.

He puts on a final burst of speed and all but tackles Danny into the mouth of an alley, reaching for his cup. “Gotcha!”

“No!” Danny wails dramatically. He takes a step back and Duke watches as his power kicks up again, showing him a vision of Danny stepping on an empty can and falling back. Except he doesn’t really fall back? His foot rolls back on the can for a second, then goes through the can and settles back onto the ground where he catches his balance. Through the entire three second fall, Danny’s eyes are a bright green, brighter than Duke’s ever seen them.

His vision fades away and he moves to catch Danny, taking the chance to watch carefully as Danny’s foot does indeed go through the can. He quickly brings his gaze up to Danny’s eyes, which are green, but not inhumanly bright like they were in his vision.

Is the green not perceptible to normal humans?

He can probably only see it due to his powers. Which means he somewhat inadvertently outed himself as a meta.

Whoops!

Might as well just bite the bullet.

“Hey, do you have powers?”

Danny chokes, shoving Duke away as he coughs and tries to clear his throat. He looks panicked, wild-eyed, searching for an escape route. “What? No. Why would I have powers? Maybe you have powers, have you ever considered that?”

“I mean. I do have powers. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Hold up. Stop talking. You have powers?”

“And your eyes are green sometimes.”

“That’s. No, they’re not,” Danny lies. It’s a very bad lie, seeing how on edge he is, and as much as Duke hates making Danny feel like that, he did get some bad habits while training with Bruce and this is one of them: the need to keep pushing, chasing after clear answers regardless of what the cost is.

Duke shrugs, taking a sip of his latte, down to its last few mouthfuls, acting casual. “If you say so. But my powers don’t lie, man. As much as I wish they would, sometimes.”

“...Can we not do this out here?” The defeated tone Danny speaks with makes Duke hate himself. But he needs answers now. He needs to know if Danny is like him, if he’s safe, if he needs help. He needs it more than he needs Danny to like him at all.

“Sure. I know a few quiet places we can talk.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Danny mutters. “Did my eyes really give it away?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, I also didn’t realize until literally right now, so I don’t think anyone else will figure it out just from staring into your eyes.”

“See, this is what happens when you keep flirting when you don’t mean it. Secrets get pulled out into the open and it’s bad for everyone!”

Duke lightly punches Danny’s arm, trying to lift the mood. “Hey, who said I didn’t mean it?”

“What?”

“Who said I didn’t mean it when I flirt with you?”

Danny blinks at him, confused, then says, “I mean, no one I guess. But it’s pretty obvious?”

“I only flirt with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Duke says, trying to ignore how his voice shakes slightly. “There’s another one of my secrets. Can we call it even now?”

“Oh!” The shock of the revelation distracts Danny from his earlier nerves. Which is great, because now Duke is the one who’s nervous. It’s worth it, though, seeing the pretty blush come to bloom on Danny’s cheeks. “So all those pick up lines—”

“Yeah.”

“And the pick up line made you realize my powers!”

“These pick up lines are doing the most,” Duke agrees. And then he realizes, “Hey, you what this means? I was right! Your eyes are windows to your soul!”

“I’m going to hit you,” Danny says, already winding back for a solid punch. He lets Danny hit him since it’s only fair for the stress he caused; as a meta, Duke knows how important secrecy is, how the difference between life and death can be just how well his powers are hidden.

“Are we even now?”

Danny considers him for a moment, then sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s be done with this for now, okay? Let’s go to the library.”

He refuses to entertain any conversation about powers or Duke’s feelings for him. It’s nice to spend time with Danny, but by the end, Duke is sure he can feel his heart start to crack in half. A sleepless night awaits him when he gets home, moving past his cousin’s attempts to talk to him in favor of flopping face down onto his bed.

But the next day, Danny grins at him when he walks into the cafe. He doesn’t have a new pick up line, choosing instead to act as calm and casual as possible to give Danny some space.

Also breaking routine, Danny insists on personally making Duke’s drink, writing something onto the cup before he fills it up with a floral tea.

You’re so fine, you made me forget my pick up line, is scrawled on the side of his cup when he gets it.

“Enjoy your drink, Cutiepie the Third,” Danny says with a shy smile.

“The Third?” Duke repeats, relief making him feel lighter than air, “Who are the first two?”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Get to class!”

Duke lets Danny chase him out, and holds in his laugh when he hears Danny’s coworker screech, “What was that?!”

Yeah, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Duke needs to see if apology pick up lines are thing. Danny definitely deserves one.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #duke went from flirting to accidentally outing both himself AND danny as people w powers. and then lowkey confessing. disaster <3 #meanwhile danny has been slowly falling for duke bc of his cute and cheesy pick up lines that he always turned into a joke bc he didnt #believe that it was real. and also his coworkers would embarrass him if he got too flustered #they all ship him and duke btw. so do some of the regulars #coffe with a two minute show lol #thank you for the prompt!!

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neptuneiris · 9 months

Text

detachment (03/03)

with detachment, we see our mistakes honestly, make amends and start afresh.

pairing: prince!aemond × niece!reader

summary: aemond not only breaks your heart after so many love promises, he also breaks his betrothal to you without any justification and announces his betrothal to a baratheon girl. now you will be married soon too.

word count: 8.5k

previous part • series masterlist

thank you so much for joining me and giving your support to this short story. there will be no epilogue, this is the end, so i hope you enjoy it very much, love you all. see you in the next stories🥺❤

"You look too happy, my Lady."

"I say the same of you, my Lord."

Lord Cregan smiles softly in your direction, without both stopping dancing and without ceasing to be the center of attention of some of the nobles still remaining in their seats and your family as well.

Even though there are more people around you both also dancing, the center of the huge Room gradually adding of more people to dance, still you feel many attentive looks on you and your betrothed.

"Well, we would draw a lot of attention if we weren't dancing and smiling, my princess. This is all in our honor."

You smile, lowering your gaze for a moment.

"Well… then I must say you are an excellent dancing partner."

"You too, my princess," he smiles at you, "Although, to be honest with each other, this is actually costing me a bit… feeling a lot of eyes on me," he confesses to you honestly, without wiping the small smile from his lips, "Especially when I feel like they're burning my skin at the moment."

At that moment you don't need explanations. You know Lord Stark means him.

"I apologize for that," you say apologetically.

"No, it's all right," he assures you, "It's a bit intimidating, too much actually, considering the prince's reputation in combat. But in a way… I understand what he must be going through."

This catches your attention, at once watching him intently and curious.

"You shouldn't," you make it clear to him, serious, "This is our wedding, you don't have to feel sorry for him. From what I told you when you went to Dragonstone, remember he has no right, he was the one who cancelled our betrothal."

"Honestly, my princess… I wouldn't be surprised if at some point in the night you disappeared and left me."

You lower your gaze, deep inside you a few moons ago you probably would have wished for that, for Aemond to arrive at any moment, take you away and wed you. But now… this is a duty.

It's not like that's really going to happen either, not now when everything is already happening. He is present, yes, but it's all in the past and he's getting wed soon too.

"I can say the same for you, my Lord," you say a little amused, "I too feel a certain… intimidating stare."

He smiles softly and denies with his head.

"No. I would never do anything like that to you, princess."

"But do you love her or not?"

"I shouldn't answer you something like that, princess. It would be disrespectful when you are my betrothed, not her."

"No," you gently shake your head, "It is all right, my Lord. It is my wish for you to be honest with me, believe me I do not mind," you assure him, "Besides, I think I know the answer from what you also told me on your visit to my home."

"Well," he looks a little apologetic, "Yes, of course I love her. But I realized it too late. Had I known sooner, I would have married her in an instant."

You can't smile, especially knowing that both you and Lord Stark have someone else in your hearts and yet the two of you are here about to be wed.

Unconsciously your gaze wanders to Lady Alysanne Blackwood who is seated at one of the tables with a glass of wine in her hand, staring into oblivion and quickly identifying her sad face which she is trying to hide.

And you know this because you were also doing the same thing and feeling the same way.

"Have you spoken to her, my Lord?"

You turn your gaze to Lord Stark, asking him softly.

"She said she is happy for me and wishes me a loving and pleasing marriage," he tells you also trying to hide his pain on his face and in his tone, avoiding looking to where Lady Blackwood is now sitting.

"I'm very sorry."

"No princess, you had nothing to do with it," he assures you instantly, "You don't have to apologize and feel responsible, just as I have nothing to do with what happened between you and your uncle."

"Then why do I feel that if my uncle or I finally do something about our union, you'd be all right with it?" you ask him curiously, "You wouldn't be upset and turn on my family if I leave and make a fool of you after so much?"

"Well…" he thinks about it for a moment, " I would feel a little humiliated? Yes. But to be honest, if I were him and I was seeing the woman I love marrying someone else… I would wish things in my favor and no matter what, I would take her away from here and marry her in a heartbeat."

"That is what you would do even for when we are already in these circumstances and everyone expects us to marry soon?"

Lord Cregan looks at you with a small amused smile and a somewhat questioning look.

"Are you trying to say that's what you would do, my princess?"

"I spoke in supposition, my Lord," you explain, "What if we were in other circumstances. As for instance that this wedding is happening against my will, with a person I do not wish to marry and where…. the person I love also loves me."

"Princess, it is improper what I will say and it is not gentlemanly of me, especially since I truly mean no disrespect—

"It's all right," you assure him again softly, "Speak freely, my Lord."

"Well… since you put it that way and apparently we're both on the same page… yes," he confesses with a soft look, "I would too."

You frown slightly.

"But I never said I—

"It doesn't need to be said and I know I don't know you too well, my princess. But I know you would too."

He smiles softly at you, as you watch him silently, saying absolutely nothing, thinking about his words.

"I have heard the stories of your mother and father. All of them have come to the North, very interesting stories and captivating to more than one, I must say. And knowing that same blood runs through your veins…I am already prepared for whatever you decide to do."

"I am already prepared for whatever you decide to do."

That repeats constantly in your mind, saying nothing for a few seconds as you continue to dance to the music and the specific choreography while Lord Stark follows your same step at all times, as do the other nobles around you.

But truly… what would you do?

Nothing. Just do your duty. And your duty is this.

Between you and Aemond there is nothing anymore. It's not as if at any moment you're going to run away with him, running away from your responsibilities, because you know he won't do anything and certainly you won't do anything either.

It's all said and done, he's getting married, you're getting married and what you once had, that love that existed is gone. And even though the stories of your mother and father still live on… you and Aemond are not like them.

Right?

"No need to worry about that, my Lord," you tell him as you both continue to dance, "You and I, that is what is happening now. He's betrothed too and there's nothing left of what we once was."

"I would not be so sure about that, princess."

You look at him confused.

"Why not?"

"I know the nature of the man. And knowing his father, Prince Daemon, a man who has my full admiration and respect, his nephew, Prince Aemond must be just like him. Besides, he would be a fool not to be acting now that the woman he loves is marrying someone else."

You deny with your head, understanding the point about your father, who also acted at one time with your mother at her wedding to your father Sr. Laenor, but he in the end did nothing about it.

And Aemond… is completely different.

Your father didn't break your mother's heart in the worst possible way, leaving her without explanation, much less just when both of them were already about to get married and have everything.

And about finally acting when the woman he loves is marrying someone else… it's something you don't fully understand.

"It's selfish, dont you think?"

"All men are selfish, I include myself. But the decision is always up to you, the woman I love and all women," he assures you with a soft smile, "Now…." he makes you both stop dancing, holding your hand delicately, " I will know your decision soon, princess. I'll be here waiting."

Confusion begins to overtake you, not understanding anything.

"What do you mean, my Lord?"

He does not answer you, on the contrary, he places his gaze over your shoulder, looking at something or someone specific, barely giving you time to react, because at that moment Aemond appears between the two of you, placing one of his hands on Lord Stark's shoulder.

"May I, Sr. Cregan?"

This immediately catches your attention, as Aemond keeps his attention on lord Stark, who watches you for a few seconds and then nods in his direction.

"Of course, my prince."

All the other people around you continue to dance, as lord Stark begins to walk away to disappear among all the people… and you watch Aemond without expression really, even more without understanding anything.

And when he looks at you, it's like reliving all those moments, all those moments where you both shared kisses, caresses and those promises of love, also all those moments when you were children.

However… he says nothing and simply places now his hand on your lower back to start guiding you towards the center of the Room, you walking too instantly, both of you making your way through all the people dancing.

Nerves invade you, especially because this is the first time you are in front of him after everything that happened, taking into account that you ignored his request about meeting on the island, although he has it more in mind than you.

But everything happens too fast.

You are completely oblivious to the looks that Otto Hightower and Queen Alicent are giving you both, while your mother and father don't seem annoyed like the previous ones mentioned, but rather curious and expectant.

While Aegon… he couldn't be having more fun with the moment, especially delighting in his little brother's audacity and his mother's and grandsire furious stares, especially his grandsire.

Aemond glances sideways towards the table, or towards his grandsire specifically, being very aware that he is being watched. But honestly he couldn't care less.

He's had enough. And he doesn't care that this isn't what they expected of him or that it will lead to serious consequences later, he doesn't care anymore… because he will finally make things right.

"This is what you want?"

Is the first thing he says to you once he has your attention in High Valyrian, both of you being surrounded by all the people dancing to the music, while he and you remain in the middle of it all, standing in front of each other, your attentions on each other.

And his question bothers you, because it is certainly not what you expected to hear from him after so many moons apart and in which he never once explained anything to you when you needed it most.

He simply questions you about your marriage, his serious look on you, while you answer him with the same attitude and manner.

"It's none of your concern what I want, uncle. It's not like you'll care either, just like I don't care what you have to say about my wedding either."

Uncle, not Aemond, just…uncle.

All your words anger him, instantly watching you with such intensity and with his jaw clenched, leaning more towards you with that defiant look.

Then you answer him in the same way, watching him with your chin up and your serious, determined look.

"The man from the North is a good and noble man who will drive you to boredom even before you both say your vows before the Seven, so tell me niece….. do you really think he deserves you?"

"Don't tell me, uncle. Now you're going to say you're the one who deserves me?"

Aemond clenches his jaw tighter.

"You didn't let me explain."

"It was too late for your explanations, don't you think?"

"I waited for you and you never came."

"Well, now you know what it feels like to be left without explanation," you tell him in a bitter, serious tone, "Not to mention that I had to hear the news of your new betrothal afterwards."

Aemond does not take his gaze away from you for a second, not even caring that you are in public and in the open view of other people, especially his family, because at that moment for him… it is only you.

And honestly… you don't care either.

You had been waiting for this moment, nothing feeling more than satisfying than paying back the man who supposedly loved you in the same way, making him feel what you felt.

"Perhaps you would understand why I did it if you would let me explain," he tells you serious.

"No," you tell him serious and annoyed, "Your explanations I needed to hear when you broke me and left me. Not now that you're finally acting when my wedding to another man who isn't you is happening."

He watches you completely serious and attentive, while you are being more than firm with your attitude and your words, even defiant.

"So if you will excuse me… I have to find my betrothed."

Putting the matter to an end, you turn around and start walking away from him, trying to make your way through all the people around dancing.

But it's barely three steps that you advance when Aemond stops you by the arm and makes you turn on your own axis to be face to face with him again.

And Gods… he is furious.

Again you watch him defiantly, more by the fact that he holds you by the waist and pulls you completely to him, bringing another of his hands to your cheek, preventing you from running away from him again, while you watch him seriously and in expectation of his next move.

But he's not mad at the fact that you won't let him explain himself, but at your words, your betrothed.

"First I'm going to burn everything to the ground before you have a chance to marry that fucking northern man," he warns you mumbling under his breath, their faces mere inches apart.

You try to pull away from him, but he only makes his grip on your waist tighter and his grip on your cheek tighter, watching your whole face, your precious face with possession and desire, watching your lips between parted as your gaze also watches his, reprimanding yourself.

"Let me go. People are watching us."

"Then let them see," he says without a care in the world, his gaze possessive and dominant, "Let them see who you truly belong to."

You press your lips together, upset.

"You are so selfish."

"When it comes to you…you don't have a fucking idea. And I'm not going to let you go."

At that moment, both of them are indeed getting attention, but not from the noble people, but from their families.

Otto Hightower clenches his hands into fists and squeezes them tightly with a deathly stare, while Queen Alicent watches the scene in disbelief, not having the slightest idea how to fix her son's behavior.

But Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon... are only anticipating what will come next.

"If you don't let go of me I'm going to scream," you warn him between your teeth.

But at this, Aemond can only smile with a certain self-centeredness and satisfaction, as well as looking amused.

"Oh I would like to see you try, my love."

And then the next thing he does is to take you firmly by the arm and start dragging you towards the exit of the Throne Room, unnoticed among all the people dancing, while you try to put up resistance in an instant but with Aemond's strength it's impossible.

You think about screaming, as you told him you would, but causing a scandal would only be worse, so you let him lead you, who with quick steps makes sure no one follows and takes you away from all that absurd and boring feast.

But once you both leave the Room, that's when you can finally stop him and confront him.

"What are you doing!?"

"I want to explain," he insists serious.

"No!" you exclaim in annoyance, "I don't want you to explain anything! Can't you see that I can't leave my own feast? What is my betrothed going to think? And your betrothed too!?"

"I don't give a shit about your feast, your betrothed and my betrothed, now come," he says as he again puts pressure on your arm to continue to lead you away.

But you put up a resistance again.

"No! Let go of me, Aemond!"

"Don't make me repeat myself again, Y/N."

"This isn't fair!"

"Nothing is. Now stop resisting and walk," he tells you disinterested.

"You're so fucking selfish! You don't even have any idea what you really put me through and now you want to ruin my wedding because since you don't care, you think I must not care too!"

Aemond, starting to lose his patience, sighs and has no choice but to, without waiting for you, grab you and place you on his shoulder like a sack to start walking quickly away from there without further inconvenience.

"Aemond!" you exclaim in surprise and in horror.

"Are you going to behave now?"

"Put me down! Put me down this instant!"

"I don't want to."

"I have to go back! We're going to get in trouble because of you!"

"Too bad."

So the only smart thing you can think of at that moment is to keep complaining and trying to hurt him with your not so convincing closed fist punches, neither is squirming and making his job of carrying you difficult and unbearable, because simply nothing worked.

With your protests being further and further away from the Throne Room, with no one coming to your rescue, though if so they wouldn't stand a chance against Prince Aemond, he finally puts you on the ground as you enter one of the many balconies of the Keep.

"Seven fucking Hells, will you stop yelling already?"

"And what did you expect? You're taking me away from my own wedding!" you exclaim in anger.

"It's not your wedding Y/N!" he exclaims to you again serious and annoyed, "Do you really think I'm going to let you marry that fucking Stark?"

"And what about your betrothed?" you inquire instantly, incredulous, "You don't know that you can get us in trouble for this? Spare us the embarrassment, Aemond. My father must be looking for me by now and he'll put your head on a spike if he finds us."

"I don't care if your father finds us, neither does my grandsire, my mother or your betrothed," he tells you with a certain mocking, serious tone. "I don't care about any of this, Y/N. And I certainly don't care about my fucking betrothed because I'm not marrying her."

A smile and a disbelieving, absurd laugh escapes your lips, shaking your head.

"Yes, of course."

But the look Aemond gives you at that moment is a terribly honest and serious one in which he shows he's not in jest.

"I'm serious."

"Well, tell that to your grandsire," you tell him in a bitter tone, "I'm sure he'll kill you first before my father if you don't do what he or your mother tells you."

He lets out a long sigh, tearing his gaze away from yours for a moment, running one of his hands across his chin.

"Y/N—

"Why are you doing this?" you interrupt him seriously, annoyed, your skin burning and all the discomfort coursing through your body, "Why now that I am about to marry Lord Cregan? Why not before when you left me with no explanation and crying for you with the thought of your soon to be wedding to Lady Baratheon?"

"Nothing I did to you was my intention, Y/N," he implores you, earnest and honest, "Nothing was my choice, I never meant to end our betrothal."

"Then why?" you spit at him, "Is it that you don't want to see me marry someone else but I'm not going to marry you either?"

"Because the war will soon be upon us," he tells you in an instant, serious and seriously needing at that moment to explain himself, not wanting you to hate him more by listening to his reasons, "We all know that my father may die at any moment. And when that happens… the war between our families will begin."

You frown, shaking your head slightly.

"Now what are you talking about?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," he says taking a few more steps towards you, "Your mother is the Heir, we know that, but still… she is a woman and she will have a lot of people against her by the time comes."

"Many people or your mother and grandsire specifically?" you ask him expectantly.

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Aegon is the first born son, everyone will expect him to be the next King."

"Aegon is a fucking drunk who doesn't even care about the Throne, Aemond!"

You exclaim absurdly to him, sick of this.

"He has said countless times that he is not interested in the crown and does not want to rule, but it is your grandsire who keeps insisting and wanting to take total control of everything on his own whim and for his own ambition, denigrating my mother knowing very well that my grandsire has named her Heir and has never, not even consciously, said that he wishes Aegon to succeed him! " you tell him incredulously, "And not only him, your mother is also against mine, letting herself be led by everything your grandsire tells her."

"And what is going to happen when your mother sits on the Throne, hmm?" he inquires you as well, "She can order to kill me and all my family because of the pressure of the people by having not only one, but three sons of the King, where none succeeded the crown."

All the confusion invades your face instantly, staring at him in disbelief and as if you can't believe it for even him, Aemond Targaryen, being the intelligent man he is, to think such a thing, about to retort but he continues to speak.

"Do you really think that even so if we had married, your family and I would begin to get along?"

He inquires you, incredulously and your breath catches.

"It's not that I don't want to Y/N, it's that I can't. What kind of sister cares more about some supposed lies to a maimed eye? If she had no sympathy for me at the time, less will she have for when the people reveal themselves against her and she wants to secure her Throne."

"Seven Hells," you mutter incredulously.

"I know Aegon isn't cut out to rule, but at least with him on the Throne he secures my life, Helaena's, Daeron's and my niece and nephew's."

"So is the idea of me and my entire family being killed better?" you ask him bitterly, "All this nonsense is what your grandsire and mother have been telling you all this time? Turning you, my uncles and my aunt against your own sister? Don't you realize how sick with ambition and power that is? Is this why you canceled our betrothal?"

You don't need to hear the answer to that, you already know it. But he only confirms it when he doesn't say anything to you and with a sorrowful look, looks away from you for a moment, to which you don't know whether to laugh or cry.

You honestly can't believe it.

You knew that Otto Hightower hates your entire family but not with such fervor to the point of interfering in his own grandson's life, not giving him the chance to truly marry for love.

And destroying his thoughts about you and your mother for his own ideologies and for his own lust for power to put Aegon on the Throne.

Otto is even capable of turning all the common people against your mother out of envy, not only being enough to marry his only daughter to the king, taking advantage of the pain of others and securing his position even more.

You truly hate that man and also Alicent Hightower for letting himself get led and turn his children against his own sister with lies, being that she once loved your mother and yet was led by her father to hate her simply because of her freedom to be princess and being named by the king the Heir to the Throne.

"My mother has never, not even when she was named Heir and Aegon was born, thought in such a way about you."

You make it clear to her in a serious and more than offended voice.

"All she has wanted has been, even since you and I were children, to keep the peace between our families, even proposing to marry Jace to Hel and give you a dragon egg to you, but your mother turned her down at every opportunity because of your grandsire disgusting ideas."

You tell him annoyed, serious.

"She couldn't even recently stand the thought of marrying you to me, blinded by hatred and feeding you too that same hatred to hate her. And I understand what happened years ago, I understand that my mother is not to your liking, but she truly regrets having acted as she did in understanding your mother's position, she being the first to support us with our betrothal," you remind him in a bitter tone.

Aemond watches you completely attentively, without saying anything, with his lips pressed together.

"So tell me Aemond…. if she really plans to kill you and your entire family, then why would she go to the effort of uniting our families and supporting our betrothal?" you inquire, "Do you think it's all a strategy? Because I assure you that my mother with all she has to deal with in Court, being judged at every turn for being a woman, especially by your grandsire, would not waste herself with all those attempts to ultimately become a kinslayer."

And then… Aemond feels as if a huge weight has fallen on his stomach, leaving him for a moment without air.

He continues to watch you with a expressionless gaze, when inside he is thinking completely about your words, while you watch him firmly for your words, knowing perfectly well that you are right.

And that's the truth, Aemond also thinks you are right.

Kinslayer.

A sin.

A word and an action that makes you a disgrace to the entire Targaryen dynasty. A curse to your name and in which you will be remembered forever, as Visenya Targaryen was once called, though this is only a supposition.

But this word Aemond knows really well, as do you from the stories. And considering your mother's position and the one who will become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you know that your mother could never be called that if she is truly committed to her reign.

And she is, you know your mother really is and Aemond knows it too, despite how much that makes him furious, but for his grandsire and his mother's ideas, reminding him that then Lucerys inherits all of Driftmark and he... inherits nothing.

Or at least, now he inherits nothing.

For had he married you, you being the second born daughter of the Heir, Dragonstone is your castle and that would have been home to both of you.

Aemond considers that Rhaenyra can probably have them killed… accidentally as well.

But you… seeing you now in front of him after so many moons apart and after all that happened, he still trusts you and really believes in what you have told him.

What purpose would Rhaenyra really have had in marrying her daughter to her half-brother and then killing him? It doesn't make any sense.

And just as every mother cares for the happiness of her children, Aemond knows he was your happiness and your mother would never do that to you. And you… seeing that he says absolutely nothing to you, you can only watch him with a somewhat satisfied look, nodding slightly in his direction.

"That's what I thought," you mutter to him without much emotion.

And the next thing you do, you turn away from him and start heading towards the balcony exit to return to your feast, leaving him behind, assuming you've already said everything you wanted to say to each other. But again Aemond doesn't let you go so easily and stops you.

"I want to wed you."

And to your bad luck, you really can't put up any resistance and turn to him again, with a bitter look on your face and feeling again what it might have been when you heard his words.

"You were already going to wed me, remember?"

"All right, you're right,' he tells you serious, letting out a long sigh, "I should not have done what I did to you, I should not have listened to my grandsire words, nor should I have accepted my betrothal to the daughter of Lord Borros."

"It is too late now, Aemond."

"I'm not marrying her, Y/N."

"Oh and you're seriously going to go against your grandsire?" you inquire not really believing it.

"I don't fucking care about my grandsire, Y/N!" he insists annoyed, quickly heading towards you, "He can fuck himself as well as his alliance with Lord Borros, I really don't care about him and neither do I care about my mother. All I want, all I've ever wanted… is you."

You snort, turning your gaze away from him for a moment, to again stare at him incredulously.

"And what is going to happen when the King dies?"

You ask, expectantly.

"Now you know that my mother has never thought nor will she ever harm you, your brothers, let alone Hel or her children, besides she is the true Heir… who assures me that the first thing you will do is support the right side and not support the idea of usurping my mother?" you question him, "Do you think I want you and I to live at war too? That we will eventually start hating each other by supporting two different sides?

"And what do you want me to do, Y/N?" he asks you in the same way, "I understand about my brothers and Helaena, but who assures me that your mother won't go for mine's head? She is my mother after all, I can't leave her alone."

"She won't do anything to your mother, Aemond!" you exclaim in exasperation, "The two of them loved each other as children, my mother hasn't forgotten how much she held her in high esteem in spite of everything and you think she would dare to hurt her? Think Aemond and forget everything your grandsire has told you!" you exclaim, "It is your grandsire who is doing all this, separating us, creating rivalry and hatred, it is for him that my mother will go if he does something against her, not for anyone else."

You make it more than clear to him while Aemond says nothing for a few seconds, watching and listening to you attentively, to which you continue to watch him without understanding, to then let out a long sigh and deny with your head.

"Still none of this matters, I have to go back," you tell him without much emotion to resume your way.

But again Aemond reacts and stops you by taking you firmly by the arm as he turns you towards him and holds you by the waist.

He pulls you completely towards him, while he places another of his hands on your cheek and brings his face dangerously close to yours, surprising you by such closeness and stealing your breath.

"Aemond," you say in a whisper.

You show him that this is wrong, but he doesn't mind at all, on the contrary, he brings his face closer to yours.

His breath hits your face, watching you again with that possession and that desire, completely attentive to your face, your beautiful face, while you don't understand anything but you know that if you try to pull away, he won't let you.

Although again you feel all that you used to feel before when he was courting you, realizing that you have never really stopped feeling this way for him, scaring you and making you feel disappointed because again… you must do your duty and so must he.

However, you can't help but feel really desired by him, just like before, all these thoughts invading you as you want to be his, just as you also want him to be yours, watching his face and lips intently unconsciously, unable to resist.

But this is wrong, completely wrong.

"What do I have to do, Issa jorrāelagon, to put all this behind so that you will agree to marry me?"

He murmurs more than willing on your lips, not letting go of you for a second, not willing to let go of you for a second, being terribly honest with you, this immediately catching your attention and again stealing your breath.

But it's not just his words, it's him, everything about him.

His face, his figure, his grip on you, so fucking alluring and attractive, which is what you hate but at the same time is also your weakness of him.

And despite that, despite the fact that even though you don't want to, you're slowly giving in to him, yet you still have some willpower and you don't just think about yourself, you can still think about the other people there at the feast.

"I-I can't," you look at him sadly, "Cregan Sta—

"Y/N."

He stops you making your grip on your waist tighter and his gaze more determined, really not wanting you to talk about him and wanting you to focus right now, on you,

"Just tell me what I have to do and so I will do it. Just tell me."

He insists and you… hesitate.

You haven't the slightest idea what to do.

"If I were him and I was watching the woman I love marrying someone else… I would wish things in my favor and no matter what, I would take her away from here and marry her in a heartbeat."

You remember Lord Cregan's words, as you continue to watch Aemond in front of you intently.

"I am already prepared for whatever you choose to do."

"All men are selfish, I include myself. But the decision is always up to you, the woman I love and all women."

"I will know your decision soon, princess. I will be here waiting."

Basically Lord Cregan Stark… was understanding with you and will already be prepared… if you choose this.

If you choose Aemond too, in the same way he has already chosen you over his family and his betrothed.

Then you think of your family, your mother and father, who will probably be very disappointed in you if you do not return and marry Lord Cregan, losing a great and important alliance with the man who owns the whole North.

But you remember what your mother was willing to do many years ago, when she was in the same position as you are now with Aemond, who completely forgot about the alliance and thought of her, her happiness, by asking the man she really loves to steal her away and take her to Dragonstone to marry her.

Now, knowing the history of your ancestors, how some of them chose love over duty, why shouldn't you do the same?

"Let my mother know what your grandsire is planning, avoid war," you tell him finally, "Kneel to her and swear your sword to her if you truly love me and if you wish me to marry you now."

In other circumstances, Aemond would have thought you are asking too much of him, but now that you both already know the truth, you his and he your mother's through you, he understands your point and thinks it is fair.

And if this is what he has to do so that you are finally his and he can finally call you his wife, which is all he has ever wanted, then so he will.

"Anything else?"

He gently caresses your cheek with his thumb and you, knowing with that his response, knowing that this is what he will do, finally stop feeling tense and let yourself be completely led by him, leaning into his body and his touch, feeling how slowly that weight on your shoulders disappears.

Just as you also Aemond feels that guilt stop invading him and finally now that he has you, he feels safe, loved and at peace.

"Promise me you won't break my heart again," you murmur against his lips.

Aemond gently shakes his head, leaning down to leave soft kisses on your cheek, starting a little trail, making you let out a sigh and place your arms around his torso, finally feeling you too at peace, having really missed this.

"Never again," he finally murmurs in your ear, sending shivers throughout your body and sounding like a promise.

Everyone in the Throne Room begins to look uneasy when one of your guards that your mother sent to look for you returns and whispers in his and your father's ears that you have disappeared.

Immediately Princess Rhaenyra glances at Queen Alicent, who is already watching her and instantly understands what is happening, turning quickly to her father with an alarmed and worried face as they and in fact everyone at the table also notice the absence of Prince Aemond.

The fact of this news does not really go unnoticed as your father immediately orders his entire guard to search for you throughout the Keep, at the same time Otto Hightower also orders them to find his grandson.

Your brothers and sisters, as well as your mother have an idea of who you are with, considering he too is nowhere to be found.

While Princess Helaena in the center of the Room begins to hear the murmurs of all the nobles, especially the ladys as they watch the entire royal family curiously, wondering if the bride has disappeared, also watching Cregan Stark out of the corner of their eyes.

Cregan Stark also watches everyone around him curiously, as the news begins to spread quickly throughout the Room, earning the sorrowful glances of all the lords.

And when Cregan finally understands what is going on, just as he had told Princess Y/N, he was already prepared and immediately turns to look at Lady Alysanne, who looks at him in surprise and disbelief.

Prince Aegon continues to drink wine completely amused by the whole situation, really feeling proud of his brother, delighting in his grandsire's behavior and reaction.

Princess Rhaenyra rises from her seat and looks with her bewildered gaze at her husband, who watches her seriously but at the same time with a certain resignation.

"I told you this would happen," he tells her as everything continues to be chaos in the Room.

"Shall we go to them?"

Prince Daemon lets out a long breath, clutching Dark Sister's pommel that hangs at his hip.

"She and especially he better have a good excuse."

Your mother and father get the idea and are sure that's what you and Aemond are doing now and Alicent and Otto Hightower as well, feeling horrified at the idea compared to your parents.

But before Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra set off, it is first the duty of both of them to bring order to the Throne Room and talk to Lord Stark, who doesn't really look bothered by anything, before going to find you and Aemond.

When the news that Otto didn't want to hear, reaches his ears, and that is that your dragon Silverwing has left DragonPit and they also saw Vhagar flying away in the skies some time ago.

Meanwhile in Dragonstone… considering Kings Landing is not far away and it's quick dragonback travel, you and Aemond are finally joining blood.

All the emotion comes over you, really everything being in favor of both of you calling a Septon who has been at your family's disposal all the time you have lived in Dragonstone, who agreed to perform the ceremony, while the maidservants brought you both the clothes your mother and father wore when they also had their Valyrian wedding.

And now being here with Aemond, it's really happening.

He holds Dragonglass in his hand as the Septon begins to recite the correct words in Valyrian, about to join his blood with yours, being just as excited as you are, but dissimulating a little more.

"Hen lantoti ānogar"

Blood of two

"Va sȳndroti vāedroma"

Joined as one

Aemond directs the blade to your lips to slightly cut your bottom lip, then you also do the same with him and so then both of you bring your thumb to the bleeding part and place blood on each other's foreheads.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti."

Ghostly flame

"Elēdroma iārza sīr."

And song of shadows

"Izulī ampā perzī."

Two hearts as embers

Then you both cut the palm of one of your hands with the blade, and then join the two cut hands so that the blood begins to drip and fall into the chalice in the middle of both of you.

All the while you watch with a small smile on your lips, really not believing that this is finally happening, while Aemond watches you with adoration in his eyes, with a barely visible small smile on his lips.

"Prūmī lanti sēteksi."

Forged in fourteen fires

"Hen jenȳ māzīlarion."

A future promised in glass

Once the chalice is considerably full, both drink from each other's blood, as is the tradition of Old Valyria.

"Qēnlossa ozūndessi."

The stars stand as witness

"Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo."

The vow spoken through time

"Rȳ kīva mazvestraksi."

Of darkness and light

And finally you both permanently seal your wedding and your love with a kiss, finally being husband and wife.

After that, you lead your now husband to your chamber, where as soon as Aemond closes the door behind him, you perfectly understand that look on his face, one of complete desire and in which you barely have time to react as he pulls you to him with force and kisses you with need.

If you didn't feel the same way he does, you would have asked him to slow down… but you are just as desperate and completely crave his touch, to feel him, to become one.

"I'm not going to let you rest, ābrazȳrys. Not now that I finally have you," he promises you in the midst of kissing, beginning to remove your clothes.

"Nyke jaelagon ao, valzȳrys," you murmur against his lips.

I want you, husband.

And Aemond completely delights in your word, husband… being everything he wanted to hear you say to him.

He again devours your lips like a man possessed, not having enough, needing more, not believing he will stop anytime soon, not caring that the whole castle hears your moans, wanting to hear you say his name, just his name, all the time.

Soon both of you are already in your bed, you completely naked, while Aemond just needs to take off his pants, the sight of his naked torso turning you completely delighted, his worked body being another of your weaknesses.

You begin to moan and sigh as Aemond begins to bite and suck on your nipples, completely kneading your breasts with both hands, his two large hands in firm, possessive motions.

You breathe fast, feeling the pleasure invade you, needing more, as well as your juices beginning to drip between your legs.

"Aemond," you gasp, pulling his face closer to your chest.

"Does it feel good?" he asks you in a whisper, licking your flesh, making you moan louder.

"Yes, yes, it feels so good."

Aemond smiles against your skin, then descends one of his hands, spreading your legs wider and touching your most sensitive part, your entire nerve core with his fingers. You arch and moan in complete arousal, as he strokes you up and down being easier for him because of your wet folds.

"Fuck," he murmurs, biting your breasts.

"Aemond!" you moan.

He pulls his face away from your breasts and focuses on your face never ceasing to skillfully move his fingers, delighting even more in your expressions and your lovely face, as he feels his entire manhood hard and in need of attention.

"What? You need me to prepare you properly, my wife?"

"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, please," you look at him pleadingly.

"What exactly do you need, princess?"

"Aemond," you sigh, your whole face contorted in pleasure.

"Do you need this?"

His middle finger enters you, making you sigh and gasp harder, pulling Aemond closer to you.

"Yes, yes, I need it so much," you say as best you can.

Aemond smirks again, kissing your lips, silencing your sounds for a moment, continuing to move his finger in the ideal way inside you, making you sigh, gasp and moan just as he needs.

"You look so pretty like this," he murmurs against your lips.

Without warning, he adds a second finger, which makes you squirm and begin to wiggle your hips against his hand, needing more, as Aemond kisses and marks the skin of your neck, bringing his other hand to one of your breasts, squeezing it and making you gasp more.

"You're going to feel so good around my cock, my beautiful wife," he murmurs in your ear.

Aemond in his fantasies has always wanted to taste you, just as he has always wanted to know how it would feel to have your lips around him, how pretty you would look, completely at his disposal, wanting to make him happy in just the same way he wants to make you happy.

But now… he really doesn't want to wait any longer. He needs to be inside you, now.

Considering you'll have more nights like this, everything he wants to do to you can wait, so without further ado he pulls away and stops touching you, instantly getting your attention, but you watch as he quickly gets rid of his shoes and pants, needing to free himself.

And when you see it, excitement and terror run through you at the same time.

You don't know if he will fully enter you, his size really scaring you, as Aemond watches your reaction completely proud of himself, leaning back into you as he makes his way between your legs.

"I need this, so much," he murmurs against your lips, kissing you, as with one of his hands he strokes himself.

"Take me, husband," you ask gasping, "Take me now."

Then Aemond's gaze turns dark and utterly possessive.

"You are mine, aren't you?"

"I am yours. Completely yours."

"You want me to fill you with my seed? Do you need it as much as I do?"

"Yes, yes, I need it, please," you ask, "Do it, Issa jorrāelagon."

Aemond doesn't need to listen anymore, he places his manhood at your entrance and slowly begins to thrust, while you press your lips together to avoid screaming too loudly and close your eyes tightly, feeling him open you completely as a pain and burning that is not at all pleasant washes over you.

"Shh, shh, my sweet wife," Aemond quickly comforts you, hugging and kissing you gently, stopping himself, "It's all right, all right. Tell me when I can move."

"It hurts," you murmur back, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

"I know, I know, it just happens at first, then it will feel good, I promise," he assures you softly to then kiss you again, taking all the time he needs with you, really not wanting to hurt you.

He distracts you by again caressing you, either touching your breasts, licking your nipples and also bringing one of his hands back to your nerve core, making you feel again the pleasure of before, without him moving inside you even an inch, waiting for you to get used to it.

When without realizing it, you again begin to moan and pleasure begins to run through your body, not even when Aemond cautiously begins to move inside you again, until all of him is inside.

That same pain and discomfort returns, but to a lesser extent. And when Aemond begins to gently move back and forth, you sigh and let your head fall back, finally feeling good.

At that, Aemond begins to take more confidence and moves his hips faster, each thrust being a wave of pleasure, causing you to cling completely to him and sigh between his face and neck.

"You like it just like that, my love?"

"Yes, Aemond, just like that," you murmur in his ear, delighted.

"Can I go faster?" he asks you in a growl.

"Yes, yes, it's all right."

Then Aemond adopts a new motion, faster and deeper this time, making you moan loudly again as he grunts and delights in each thrust, feeling you clench around him and your juices filling him completely making the penetration faster.

He holds you by the waist and penetrates you faster, bringing his mouth to your breasts again, marking all over your skin, never stopping moving, as you feel something start to grow inside you and need to be released.

Just like what he is feeling too.

That one night he doesn't just spill his seed inside you once, he does it more times, in different positions, as you both touch and caress each other, seeming like you can't get enough, Aemond telling you in your ear over and over again how much he loves you.

Until eventually you both finish and the next morning, you feel a satisfied tingle between your legs, as Aemond for the first time after a long time, feels good about himself, needing no more as he holds you in his arms, both of you still naked and resting from the intense and long night you shared.

You both wake up fully and prepare for the day, both knowing very well that you both have to go back to Kings Landing to face the consequences of your actions. But now that you're both married, neither you nor he really cares much, as long as you're together.

You finish breakfast, everything still feeling like a dream, a dream you really don't want to wake up from, when you hear the roar of dragons in the sky.

You immediately exchange a glance with Aemond, as the two of you watch through your windows and your mother's golden dragon along with your father's red dragon make themselves seen on the island.

You both knew this would happen, so you were already prepared, and truly not wanting to argue because everything is already done, they both leave the chamber and head out to greet your mother and father, the two of them mentioned ready to demand an explanation.

But before Prince Daemon explodes in anger at his nephew, the words and his action are completely forgotten when your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, watches as her half-brother takes his sword and kneels before her.

taglist:

@strangersunghoon @anehkael @toodlesxcuddles @yourdaydreamerfan @prettykinkysoul @kyo-kxuiote @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mrs-sullys-blog @pineapplechuncks @bellstwd @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @solacestyles @animequeen454

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

Happy Saturday! If you’re still taking requests for the 2k celebration, could I request Eddie/mall/lingerie? And happy 2k followers, definitely well deserved!

It's the return of perv!best friend!Eddie, y'all. Hold on tight.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, pet names, public sex (no one around tho), barely any foreplay because I'm lazy, friends to lovers

WC: 1.6k

Shopping with Eddie is like pulling teeth. First, you have to convince him to actually come to the mall with you. Then you have to continually bribe with treats from the food court just to keep him from driving off without you. Today, he’s snacking on a giant cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne’s and slurping on a root beer.

“Remind me why I need to be here again?” he whines as you compare two denim miniskirts that look identical to him, but apparently, you can spot a difference. He takes another bite of pretzel and sighs indignantly.

“Because,” you explain, exasperation evident in your tone, “I need a man’s opinion on what to wear for my date tonight, and you’re the closest thing I have.” You laugh as he playfully shoves you. “And I needed a ride, so…”

“So, basically, you’re just using me for my male gaze and my car, huh?” he asks, running a hand over a neatly folded pile of shirts on display.

“Pretty much.” you chirp, putting both skirts back on the rack. “Ugh, this is hopeless! I’m never gonna find something.” You blow out a big breath, puffing your cheeks. “One more store and then we can go home, I promise.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but dutifully follows behind you, taking the opportunity to check out the way your shorts perfectly hug your ass. He feels a twitch in his pants as your hips sway back and forth, and he wills himself to look away.

Unfortunately, in his pursuit to keep himself from popping a boner in the middle of the Starcourt Mall, his gaze lands on the entrance to a lingerie boutique. The mannequin out in front is adorned with a red lace teddy that leaves nothing to the imagination. His eyes dart back to you, and all he can think about is you wearing it. But not for your date with whatever schmuck you’re going out with tonight; no, Eddie wants you to wear it for him. In his bed, straddling his waist, grinding on his–

“Shit,” he mutters. He thinks his voice is low enough to keep you from hearing, but he cringes as you swivel around to see what the problem is, catching him trying to discreetly adjust himself over his jeans.

“You okay–oh,” you giggle, taking notice of his predicament. “Careful, Casanova; y’might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.” You put your forearm on his shoulder and rest your chin on top of it, making him tense up even more. “Who are you picturing in that? Chrissy Cunningham? Tammy Thompson?” Before he can answer, you press on. “Ooh, or maybe a supermodel, like Cindy Crawford or Iman? C’mon, who is it?”

“What if I was picturing you?” Eddie tries to play off his words teasingly, but the raw lust blowing out his pupils gives him away.

Biting your lower lip, you can taste the gloss you’d applied earlier. Every time Eddie jokes with you like this, pretending he wants you, it kills you inside. “Do you think I should try it on?” You look at him innocently, batting your eyelashes as you call his bluff. “Y’know, for Kyle tonight?”

At the mention of your date’s name, Eddie shrugs your arm off of him. “No,” he growls, hooking a ringed finger through your belt loop, “want you to try it on for me.” There’s no hiding his hardness now, and you can feel his heart beating faster as he draws closer to you. He swallows thickly, waiting for your response.

You’re too stunned to speak. Eddie has always been a flirt, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, but he’s your best friend. There’s no way he seriously wants to see you in lingerie, right?

“O-Okay,” you manage, turning towards the store. Eddie intertwines his pinky with yours as though ensuring he won’t lose sight of you. You find the teddy in your size and bring it into the dressing room. To Eddie’s dismay, you yank the velvet curtain closed. He tilts his head slightly, trying to find a gap wide enough to get a glimpse of you changing. He can just imagine you shimmying out of your clothes and into the sheer lingerie.

Fuck it.

Careful not to expose you to a customer passing by, Eddie slips into the room, resting his hands on your waist as you examine yourself in the mirror. The lace clings to your body, hugging your curves in all the right ways. You can feel his hard length pressed up against the back of your naked thigh.

“Eddie,” you breathe out, trying to ignore the fluttering below your belly, “what are you doing?”

“Tell me something, princess,” he says, purposefully ignoring your question, “I pictured you putting this on, but who did you picture taking it off?” He waits for what seems like an eternity, silently praying that Kyle’s name doesn’t pass through your lips.

You turn to face him, letting his strong hands fall below the curve of your ass. “You, Eddie. Always you.” As soon as you give your answer, Eddie’s mouth crashes onto yours. He brings one palm to cup your cheek while he kisses you hungrily, moaning lightly with each flicker of his tongue against yours. He guides you to the wall, palming your breasts through the minimal covering.

Eddie nudges his knee between your thighs, brushing against your sensitive sex, and you moan involuntarily. “Oh, baby,” he coos, chuckling at your reaction to his touch, “so needy, aren’t we? I bet you’re already soaking wet. Almost pathetic how desperate you are f’me, huh?” You want to fire back with a witty retort about how he was the one who wanted you in lingerie; he barged into the dressing room while you were changing, but you can’t string words together to form a sentence. Instead, you nod dumbly, making him laugh again. “Don’t worry; I’ll tell you a little secret.” He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about your sexy little body in one of these. Not even the first time today, actually.”

With that, your fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it as deftly as you can, and tug his pants and boxers down his thighs. His throbbing cock thwacks against his torso, leaving a pre-cum stain on his shirt. He hisses at the sudden relief, using his own fluids as lube to pump himself. You start to get onto your knees, but he stops you.

“If you put your mouth on me, ‘m never gonna last,” he warns with a smirk. “That’ll be for next time, yeah?” The promise of a next time excites you even more, and you allow him to hoist you up against the wall, pushing aside the lace as he runs his cock along your slick folds. “Y’ready?” His eyes are wide; though he wants nothing more than to be inside you, but only if you want to. When you nod, his smile exposes his soft dimples. “Thas’ my girl.”

My girl my girl my girl. The words swirl through your brain as Eddie pushes his mushroom tip into you. The stretch is a mixture of pleasure and pain, melting into only the former as he slowly ruts up into you, allowing you to take a bit more of him each time.

Eddie’s never had sex this good before. You dig your fingernails into his back as your pussy clenches around him; he feels himself growing even harder inside you. He grabs the plush of your ass as he quickens his pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.

“Goddamn,” he groans, nearly whimpering as you tug on his hair. “Your body was meant for me, baby. Takin’ me so well, like you were made for my cock.”

“I was m-made for you,” you echo, feeling your body tremble with delight. “Eddie, Eddie, oh, fuck, Eddie!” You lean your head back, exposing your throat and giving him the perfect angle to suck a bruise just above your collarbone.

Eddie chants your name, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he leaves more hickeys. “Can’t hold back much longer,” he confesses, trailing his tongue over the fresh set of love bites, but he keeps the same rhythm that’s driving you wild. “Wanna get my princess off before I do, though.”

“K-Keep going until you c-cum, please,” you beg him, “just like that.” You bring your middle finger down to your clit, rubbing deliberate circles until you feel your orgasm wash over you. “Yes, Eddie. I’m cumming, cumming for you…feel s’good.”

Bucking his hips harder and chasing his release, Eddie is a panting mess. “Shit–gonna cum, gonna cum in-inside you, fuck.” His hot seed coats your walls as he cries out your name one last time. He gently pulls out of you, leaving cum dripping down your leg while you struggle to regain your balance.

“Looks like we ruined it,” he offers, motioning to the lingerie. There’s tears along the crotch where he roughly moved the fabric, and the mixture of your releases is starting to leave a stain. He tears off the price tag and crumples it, tossing it to the floor. “Put your clothes on over it, hmm? It’ll be our little secret.” He pauses, giving you a mischievous smirk. “Unless you wanna tell Kyle tonight?”

You shake your head. “No. No Kyle. Only you.” Honestly, you’d forgotten all about your date until Eddie just reminded you. “Gonna cancel so we can do…that again.” And hopefully again and again and again.

Eddie throws his arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, “now that I’ve got you, we’re not stopping until that little number is completely destroyed.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #bug's 2k celebration

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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months

Text

teamwork (makes the dream work...?)

genre: enemies to lovers I guess? I'm bad at these 😭

summary: one week, your usual work partner is absent, so instead you are seated next to a genius with attitude problems. it happens.

wc: ~500

A/N: if i can manage to be consistent for once, this will probably be a series because I haven't done one in a while. pls feel free to leave your reactions in the tags or comments! happy reading 🫶🏾

next see all parts in my masterlist!

Sunlight filtered through the large classroom window. Usually, you'd be seated right by it, letting the rays warm your face in the air-conditioned room.

Not today. Your usual partner was out sick, so you were moved to the back of the classroom. Blocking out the sunshine was the silhouette of a boy you had only seen in the hallways once or twice.

He had deep brown skin, with two neat cornrows cascading down either side of his neck and brushing his shoulders. You also made out an undercut, faded cleanly beneath the braids. There was a case meant for holding glasses sitting at the front of his desk, but no spectacles sitting on his prominent nose.

The boy was bent over his worksheet already, arm covering the page.

"Hey," you said with a pleasant upturn in your voice. A full thirty seconds passed. He didn't answer, so you try again.

"Um, excuse me-"

"I heard you."

The boy kept his eyes on his desk, brows knitted together with focus. He was making broad, sharp strokes with his pencil. His elbow moved for a moment, revealing not a sheet of math problems, but a piece of printer paper filled with intricate geometric designs. Precise lines come together to create the form of a caped figure. It has large, mechanical claws and a mask with sharp, wide eyes.

"That's a cool drawing," you commented. The boy's shoulders jumped to his ears as if he'd been caught before dropping back down. He finally looked up from the page and paused. Wide, brown eyes flickered across your face, trying to determine what to make of you.

"Thanks," was all that the boy said before returning to his sketching. It wasn't long before you interrupted him again.

"You not gonna finish your work?"

"I'm already done, that's why Ms. Jones put me back here and let me rock."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me," you muttered to yourself.

You messed with the sleeve of your royal blue uniform blazer in silence, weighing your options. Ms. Jones wasn't going to let you turn in another incomplete assignment, and this kid couldn't even be assed to say 'hello'. A deep sigh escapes your lips.

"Can I get your name, at least?"

The boy set his pen down with a slam, and looked up at you as if he'd just been asked what color the sky was.

"Morales," he deadpanned, with a slight roll on the 'r'.

"Which Morales?"

"Miles."

You hummed in slight recognition, having heard the name somewhere before, murmured next to you in passing.

"You Dominican?"

"Puerto Rican."

"Oh, cool."

"M-hm."

He picked up his pen again and began to twirl it between his pointer and middle finger, but held your gaze. You looked like you were finally about to get to the actual question.

"Well, Morales," you began with a smile.

Here it comes.

"Since you're done, can you help me with-"

"No."

You scoffed, "What's the point of being partners, then?"

Miles had already returned to his original position, scribbling away. He didn't look at you, this time.

"We not partners, ma."

...And so began the longest school week of your life.

#miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #moralesanhour

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luveline · 11 months

Note

Do you think maybe you could do a quick Miguel fic of him being supportive/comforting to spider-girl cause she’s been working too hard and stretched herself a bit thin trying to make everyone happy? I’ve read all your Miguel stories and it feels like it fits LMAO (I love love love all of your stuff btw you’re one of my fav Miguel writers)

thank you for your request! grumpy miguel comforts a tired spidergirl. 1.2k

Miguel doesn't bother looking down at the thwipping sound of a web connecting with the platform. You're the only person he knows well enough, who knows him well enough, to come up without asking.

"Woah," you say, pulling yourself onto the platform with altogether too much force, taking a running stumble at him as you try to keep your balance.

Miguel puts a hand out to catch you without looking away from his screen. "Careful."

"Thanks, handsome," you croon, though it's missing its signature pep.

Miguel does look up, then, dragging his attention from the monitors to rake it over you. You have your mask on, which is odd but not unheard of, and your posture is tight. The majority of your weight is being held on one foot, and when he follows your leg upward, your thigh is curving outward. How weird.

You pull away from him gently and shimmy over to the desk you've stolen, a mountain of your things that topples intermittently lying in wait for your return. As soon as you approach, the flying droid you take on missions whizzes into the air and dances around your shoulders, not unlike the way you move yourself.

"Come over here," Miguel says.

"No," you say primly, "you're in a strange mood."

"You've been here for two seconds," he says. If he were in a strange mood, it's not as if you could've already gathered that from so little observation.

"Yeah, and you're not usually eager to have me near," you say. True and untrue.

"Come here."

You sigh and approach him as though he's dragging you, reeling you in, every footstep heavier than the last. Miguel grabs you by the shoulders when you're close and stations you neatly in front of him, thumb quick to find the seam of your mask and slide beneath.

You squint at the sudden light of the room, unmasked, though your expression quickly relaxes. "You want to kiss me," you guess, saccharine sweet as you tilt your chin upwards.

Miguel dodges your feigned kiss. You aren't wrong about what he wants, but you haven't identified his main priority, which is to find out why you'd been wearing the mask in the first place, and why you're walking like your converse shoes are full of cement.

You're very, very tired, evidently. You look exhausted. Miguel has seen you run down before, you stretch yourself thin often, and you do it without complaint, but this is a new level. His heart actually hurts in his chest, he's that gutted for you.

Miguel glares at you. "What, you're not sleeping?"

"Oh, don't, handsome," you say, moving as though you're going to walk away.

Miguel takes your face into his hand and keeps you where you are. "Hey, answer me."

"Of course I'm sleeping," you say. You won't meet his eyes. Liar. "You're a tyrant."

Be that as it may, Miguel wants what's best for you. He draws a line under your dark circles with the pad of his thumb, feeling the puffy skin regretfully. Carefully, so carefully, he traces the line of a tear unshed from the corner of your eye to the corner of your lips.

"Not enough, then."

You look at him funny. Your bottom lip twitches, and every ounce of his cool dissipates as you frown and lean forward, pressing your face to his chest.

"I'm busy," you confess in a murmur, your arms hanging loosely around his waist.

Miguel takes it for I'm really tired. He hesitates, looking down at you, your smaller stature, feeling the weight your letting him hold up for the trust it is. You're tired and you're telling him, even though he had to prod.

Miguel hugs your shoulders. You sag like a popped balloon.

"I'm busy," he says, though he amends quickly at the sudden rigidness of your back under his hands, "I'm busy, and I still sleep. You have to sleep."

"If I want to… to make time for me, I keep staying up late, you know? I've been training, and helping Hobie Brown take down the establishment–"

"What?"

"–and I was trying to make that cover for your wristband but I keep getting it wrong." You stop suddenly. Your hand screws tighter into his front, fingers digging ineffectual against nanotechnology. "I'm useless, even when I try."

"Why would you say that?" he asks quietly.

"I can't get things right. I want to do everything. I want to get better at fighting so I can come with you. I want to be a good friend to Hobie. I want to make you things 'cos you deserve them. I'm sorry. I just make everything worse."

Miguel let's you wallow for a moment. He's no stranger to self-loathing. It can feel good to simmer. He rubs your back inchingly slowly, not sure why he's letting himself, not sure why he's holding back.

Miguel takes your shoulders into his hands and eases you back, ducking his head to meet your eyes. Forcing you to listen. "You don't make anything worse. You're tired, and being tired makes everything feel worse than it is. You're not the problem."

Your cheek lists down to your shoulder. "You're being nice."

"You don't have as much effect on things as you think," he says, ducking his head again to look you straight in the eye. "I mean that in a good way. You aren't hurting anyone. You can say no."

"I don't want to say no."

"You have to." He's tipping into tenderness now, plummeting fast and hard. "You need to look after yourself if you want to look after other people," he says. He wonders if what he's about to say is fair, but he's so unhappy with your obvious rampant fatigue that he decides he can live with the bad karma. "What if I need you to come with me to the next anomaly recovery? And you're too tired to stand? You'd have me go by myself?"

"No."

"Exactly, so do the right thing and sleep." Miguel says it simply, pulling away, pulling back, physically and emotionally. He likes you more than he should but being vulnerable is difficult. He hides behind a facade —your problem is ridiculous, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore.

You see straight through him. Hear the unsaid please. "I will. I'll go to bed… Thank you, Miguel."

The facade slips as Miguel gives your bicep a warm squeeze. He turns away from you without another word, redirecting his attention on the screens, your presence like a thrumming he has to fight to ignore.

"Bye, handsome," you say, stepping sideways off of the platform. He relaxes at the sound of a web sticking and your footsteps as they lead away.

He rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Inspiring," Lyla says, appearing from nowhere, a delighted, smarmy smile flickering across her face.

"That is getting so old," Miguel complains.

"Deprogram me, then."

"Would if I could."

"Ah, but then who would witness your frankly embarrassing attempts at comfort?"

Miguel tries to catch her like a moth. She scoffs and leaps between his fingers.

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traveler-at-heart · 6 months

Text

Secrets

Summary: You try to keep your relationship a secret!

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

It was fun at first.

The thrill of sneaking around, secret glances, hidden touches. It had been quite a ride to get to where you were with Natasha, and knowing how the team could be, you both wanted to keep your relationship to yourselves, at least for a little while.

One of your secret spots were the stairs. With a building so big, it was natural that everyone took the elevator. It was the perfect place to meet the redhead and more often than not, the conversation progressed into an intense make out session that left you breathless.

“Is the elevator broken?” Steve asks as you come back from one of your little escapades. You jump at his presence, your mind still thinking about the feeling of Natasha’s lips on yours.

“Uh… no. It’s working just fine. I like to take the stairs to… exercise”

“That’s a nice idea. Maybe I’ll try it one of these days” he nods.

Cap and his obliviousness, sweet old man. He has no idea you’re all flushed for reasons that have nothing to do with coming up the steps.

Still, you think nothing of it. He was probably trying to be nice when he said it was a good idea. The next day, when you’re lost in Natasha, intoxicated by her supple lips and the way they move against your own, you miss the sound of heavy footsteps and an off key whistle.

“Crap” Natasha is the first to react, breaking apart. You turn to look down, Steve taking the steps two at a time.

Fit bastard.

“Morning!” he says, too happy for your liking.

“Oh, hi, we were just…”

“We?” he echoes, and you look around. No trace of Natasha.

“I mean, me. I was just taking a break. I think I’ll go back to taking the elevator”

“You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, just a bit agitated. Nothing to worry, Cap”

Steve nods and smiles.

“I told everyone about your great idea. I think people will start using the stairs more”

“Oh, that’s just peachy”

Once again, he is oblivious to your actual feelings. After he’s gone, Natasha jumps from behind the staircase.

“Jesus, how did you manage to do that so quickly”

“Well, you always have to be ready for a quick escape, detka”

Natasha leans forward and pecks your lips, but before she can do anything else, you drag her back to the hallway.

“You heard Cap. Our secret spot is no longer secret”

—

So far, you haven’t found a decent replacement for the stairs, except for a supply closet. And by God, you are not that desperate.

As you cook dinner, Natasha comes up behind you, and you relax against her.

“I’ve missed you” she says against your shoulder, placing small kisses that tickle you.

“I missed you too, love”

A hand goes around your middle and she toys with the hem of your shirt, lips kissing your neck, and that sweet spot behind your earlobe that makes you shiver.

“Nat” you moan, and you don’t know if you want her to stop or keep going.

Yelena answers that for you as she steps inside, eyes widening. You draw blank, because honestly, how can you explain this?

Natasha takes matters into her own hands, literally, as she hugs you and pretends to do the Heimlich maneuver.

“She’s choking” Natasha says and Yelena scrambles around.

“Oh, my God, Y/N, please don’t die”

The redhead pretends to help you, squeezing your middle and you cough.

“I think I’m…”

Unfortunately, the blonde is too freaked out and pushes Natasha away, thinking she’s helping you.

As she presses against your sternum, you are suddenly out of breath and you swear you can feel your ribs cracking.

“Ok, I’m fine, Yelena, thanks” you break free of her hold, sure that your sides will be bruised next morning.

Yelena doesn’t let you cook anymore, so you end up with a dinner of mac and cheese, and Natasha’s sister sitting in the middle while you three watch tv.

“I’m sorry” Natasha says when her sister gets up to grab another soda.

“Just for the record, this isn’t the type of choking I had in mind”

—

“They’re gonna be here any minute” you say against Natasha’s shoulder.

“I know” she bites your neck and you sink further into her lap.

The Quinjet, out of all places is where you find some privacy. The rest of the team will join shortly, as you have a recon mission.

But you can’t keep your hands to yourself and you end up naked, straddling Natasha’s lap as she moves her fingers inside of you.

“God, you look so pretty like this” she says against your chest.

“Nat, more” you plead. It’s too much and too little at the same time. She listens, moving her hand faster and your hips match her pace.

“God. Yes” you collapse in her arms.

“Request to open gate” FRIDAY informs and you curse, because you want more than a second to catch your breath.

Sneaking around is getting old now.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up” Natasha says, helping you up. She looks proud when your legs shake.

“Shut up” you say, which only makes her smile wider.

While the team enters the Quinjet, you go back to the bathroom with Nat as you hurriedly put your suits on.

“Red? Y/N?” Tony calls for you.

“Here” you raise your arm, feeling a bit tense. Maybe you pulled a muscle.

Stark nods your way and starts the Quinjet, while Steve goes over the plan with everyone else. You stay seated, vaguely aware that something feels different but you can’t tell what it is.

“Be careful” Natasha says when you part ways, squeezing your hand.

Your job is to keep an eye on the guards at the south gate and stop them if they are called to attack the intel team.

Which unfortunately does happen, so you run to shoot, kick and punch at every one of them.

There are two guards left, and as you reach for your gun, something incredibly unexpected happens.

Your suit opens right in the front, revealing your red lacy bra.

“What the fuck” you shout, looking down.

The guard in front of you opens his mouth, completely enthranced by your cleavage.

“New strategy?” Tony flies over, knocking him down. He sends the last man standing across the room.

“No! I don’t know what happened!”

You try to cover but the leather is not giving in.

“Ok, well. We’re done here so you can put all that” he gestures to your chest. “Back in the Quinjet”

Rolling your eyes, and with your arms crossed in front of you, you walk back to the jet.

As you lock eyes with Natasha, you finally notice how her own suit is loose on the shoulders.

You switched when you were getting dressed.

“I like this new look” Sam wiggles his eyebrows and Natasha sends a widow bite straight to his ass.

“Oops” she shrugs her shoulders as he glares.

Feeling a little better after that, you go inside and find a t-shirt to cover up.

When you leave the bathroom, everyone is silent.

“Ok, it’s not like you all haven’t seen boobs before. So get over yourselves. Except Steve, he gets a pass” you bark at them.

“I’ve seen boobs before” he tries to say but no one pays attention.

Natasha stays silent and you think she might be upset or reconsidering this whole thing.

You expect the worse as you land and she leads you back to your room.

“Nat…”

The redhead holds her finger up, taking your shirt off and sinking her face in your breasts.

“Really?”

“Mine” she grumbles, her hands squeezing possessively.

Well, at least some good came out of it.

—

The atmosphere is tense.

Clint, Wanda, Peter and you are playing Jenga.

Honestly, you are the one at a disadvantage here. With Clint’s aim and the enhanced individuals, you don’t stand a chance.

The way Natasha looks at you from across the room doesn’t help either.

It’s been a few days since you were together. Fury called her for an urgent mission and you had to resist the urge to sneak into the Quinjet and beg her to fuck you against the console.

And now, she’s back and you can’t wait for the night to wrap up so you can wrap your legs around her while she eats your…

“Gah!” Wanda screeches, knocking over the tower. “My mind, my eyes”

Crap.

“Wanda, a word?” you plead, dragging her out of the living room while Clint and Peter stare.

“You” she slaps your arm. “And you” she glares at Natasha as she approaches, pushing you both to her room.

“Sorry, we are keeping it a secret for now”

“But your thoughts are so loud” she massages her temples, clearly distraught. “I was so focused on the game and still I could hear everything, see everything”

“Sorry” you grimace. “Do you think you could… not tell anyone? For a bit”

“Oh, trust me, I’m very eager to pretend none of this happened”

“Thanks, Wanda” Natasha says and the girl nods.

“It’s nice to see you both happy. Just try to keep your thoughts to yourselves”

“We’ll try”

Wanda nods, walking out. Natasha’s quick to push you against the wall, eyes darkened by lust.

“Wanna tell me what was on your mind?”

“Can you at least wait for me to leave the hallway?!” Wanda screams from outside.

“You have ten seconds, Maximoff”

“Thanks, I hate you”

—

You figure a little distance from everyone will do you good.

So, you get tickets to a Yankees game and spend the day in the city with Natasha.

Even if you are only a half hour away from the Compound, among the sea of people, no one looks at you when you hold her hand, or share a kiss in the middle of your walk.

“This is nice” you smile, bringing her hand to your lips.

The first half of the game is slow, but you enjoy the time eating popcorn and making comments with Natasha about the score.

During the break, several people in the audience are featured in the screens. A girl chugs an entire beer while the crowd goes wild.

“Damn” you laugh, but the next image you see is you, next to Natasha.

The kiss cam.

“No, we’re fine” you wave your arms and the crowd boos. “Ok, not nice!”

“Don’t be such a baby” she smiles, pulling you closer.

“Pretty sure Steve and Bucky are watching the game back home”

“You jump, I jump” she leans forward, allowing you to decide if you wanna do this or not. As your lips meet in a short kiss, everyone starts clapping and cheering you on.

“Are you sure about what we just did?”

“Very. I’m tired of hiding. You make me happy. What’s wrong with that?” Natasha says and you smile against her lips.

“You are so getting lucky tonight”

But before you can kiss her again, both of your phones go crazy with texts from everyone on the team.

Tony: Is this why Wanda asked me for a way to erase her memory?

Sam: Now I know why you electrocuted my ass, Red!

Wanda: DONT COME NEAR ME

“Still think we made the right call?” you roll your eyes as the texts keep coming.

“Absolutely, detka” she says before kissing you softly.

Yeah. It’s gonna be ok.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff

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celtic-crossbow · 1 month

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 23

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; a tad bit of angst; smidge of illness; all the pregnancy woes in the world; some suggestive dialogue A/N: There's some serious fluff in this. I tried so hard to keep Daryl in character while having him offer all he could to a person doing something precious for him. I hope I succeeded. The explanation of midnight blue is a little bit of self indulgence. It's my own favorite color and the reason why. I know I skipped the nursing home scene but I took the liberty of adding into the timeline somewhere as a mention.

The events of the day before had ended in the most amusing way, with you nearly inviting Carol in before getting dressed.

“She knows what tits and a vagina look like, Daryl.”

“She don’t know what my dick looks like, Y/N!”

“Touche, sir.”

All ended well and Carol saw no genitalia that fine day.

You had officially worn one another out. After the Tylenol and Carol’s snickers and knowing smiles, you and Daryl fell onto the pillows and slept until the next morning. The fever remained, albeit burning less and less hot each time the old man would look him over. His lungs were sounding better. Hershel removed the IV when the archer proved he could keep up with hydrating and promised to take it easy. Of course, he would. He had you as his warden.

The next evening, after a bowl of hearty stew with the venison you had brought back,—two bowls for Daryl—you laid in bed. He wasn’t complaining, for once, and actually seemed to be close to falling asleep. It had been a relief to watch him eat well, even if he did try to share the second bowl. You were feeling a little nauseated, sharing that knowledge honestly when you turned down his offering. Your condition had definitely improved, the severity of the occurrences much less concerning. Things were actually okay.

“Daryl?” You licked your suddenly dry lips but continued drawing patterns on his bare chest from your spot against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He hummed, his usual reply, eyes remaining closed while his thumb swept back and forth over your ribs. When you didn’t answer right away, he pulled you a little closer. It was unclear if it was intentional or not.

“What?” He cleared his throat, his voice still gravelly.

“Can we—I’d like to know more about you.” Your timid request must have snagged his attention because he was shifting your bodies to lie face to face, one hand below his cheek and the other rubbing small circles just over where the baby had finally stopped tap dancing. He was giving you that look, the squinted eyes that scrutinized someone for any indication of dishonesty or hidden agenda. He should know you better than that by now, but you remained quiet.

“Whaddaya wanna know?” He finally queried, his hand going still but remaining where it was.

“Anything. Everything.” You shrugged your available shoulder. “If we’re gonna do this—be an us—then we need to know one another, don’t you think?” He started tapping a finger against your abdomen.

“S’your favorite color?”

You huffed a laugh through your nose, scrunching it with a smile. “Midnight blue. What’s yours?” He pulled a face, curiosity shining through.

“Why midnight?” He asked with a sniff, shuffling around a bit on the pillow.

“Because even though I know it isn’t, I like to think that’s the color of the night sky. Not black, but dark blue and full stars. Black is nothing, it’s lonely, but to think of it as blue. It’s a little more comforting.” The archer gave you a thoughtful look, the corner of his mouth ticking upward so minutely that anyone else would have missed it. Not you. “Now, what’s yours?”

He mimicked your earlier shrug. “Dunno. Don’t really got one, I guess.” Your silence beckoned him to explain. After moving his hand from below his cheek to chew on the side of his thumb, he eventually elaborated. “Grew up learnin’ to ‘preciate all’a ‘em. House was—it was always dark, ‘specially after mama died. When my old man—I spent a lot’a time outside. Noticed things. Blue sky’d turn a bit purple before it’d snow, even if it was just a lil’. Grass—it’d be green but have those brown pieces where I’d walk all’a the time. Creek looked muddy unless ya stood in it. Then ya’d see the bottom an’ how the water’d catch the light. Sometimes it’d be blue, sometimes kinda green. Just depended on the day.” His gaze had dropped away from you at some point, focused on the miniscule area of bed sheets between your bodies.

You were glad for it because your eyes had started to fill and shine. You were granted the opportunity to blink back the tears before he looked up. Daryl was so much more than anyone had given him credit for, than anyone had been willing to learn. Carol had told you a story about an exchange with Andrea, when she had taken a jab at what she thought was his limited vocabulary.

“Get a dictionary. Look it up. Observant.”

“D’ya like dogs or cats?” He asked so suddenly that you nearly flinched, realizing that you had just been staring at some point past his head for an undetermined amount of time. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.

“I like both, but I’m a dog person.” You frowned. Having a dog would probably be something your child would never get to experience. “You?”

“Dogs. Cats ain’t trustworthy.” It was such an amusing thing to say with such a straight face. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wait, I need to hear this.” You caught him staring at your lips, maybe watching you laugh or maybe he wanted to kiss you. Both? You pretended not to notice.

“Dogs’re smart but cats’re calculated. Make ya think they’re all innocent when they ain’t. Always up to somethin’.”

“What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid of cats.” You smirked, absently reaching to run your fingers through his hair. Daryl made a disgruntled sound and shook his head to stave off your attempts.

“Ain’t afraid’a ‘em. Just don’t trust ‘em.”

“Right.” You nodded, face falling into feigned seriousness before it became real, your next question burning inside your chest, just below the fear you’d need to surpass to ask. He was likely to shut down the session, maybe even close off completely. You could always hope he’d begun to trust you enough to open up, even if only a little, but the prospect suddenly seemed so far away. “Daryl.”

“Ask.” He was looking right into your eyes with a hint of determination you’d seen before when the circumstances were different, dire even. Was that how he saw this? A dire situation that could result in you being gone in some way?

“Who—what happened?” You let a single fingertip press gently against the deepest scar on his chest, your eyes lingering on it for but a moment before you contradicted his intensity with tenderness. Not pity, but a gentle curiosity. A request to allow you to understand.

“My dad—he was never a good man.” He swallowed hard. “Got worse after mama died. She drank. Fell asleep with a smoke, burned up in our house.” His fingers were plucking at the small space between you, a fine tremor in his hand. He pulled it out of your reach when you reached for it. “Didn’t know what to do with us, I guess. Me an’ Merle—my brother.” The brother that Rick had left behind in Atlanta, the brother who was likely dead. Yet another relative your baby would never know. “Merle tried to—he’d take the beatin’ when he could, did his best. Booked it outta there when he couldn't take it no more. Joined the army.” His eyes were wet, but he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Wasn't nothin’ standin’ between me an’ the old man then—between me an’ the belt. The cigarettes.” He fell silent, clearly finished with talking about his parents.

“Tell me about Merle?” You ventured, shot down with a shake of his head against the pillow.

“Ain’t your turn.” He sniffed again. “Your mama—tell me ‘bout your mama.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a soft demand; an it’s only fair. You didn’t mind. You’d accepted her abandonment long ago. You had been content with the amazing father with whom you were gifted.

“She booked it. We didn’t have a lot of money, and she never really wanted me in the first place. Tucked tail and ran the first chance she got.” You shrugged, unbothered beyond the twinge of guilt you felt for being so okay with the hand you had been dealt while Daryl struggled to even think about his past. “I didn’t even miss her. I mean, it sucked at first. I always felt bad, watching daddy struggle. So, I learned to help and that was that.”

He was so obviously jealous, yet another emotion that he didn't know how to process. You saw the anger flare before he doused it, returning to a solemn state of silence. He was awaiting your question, wherein you found a dilemma. Did you push through the conversation about his family? Or did you switch to something else, give him a break?

“Thank you for trusting me.” When you reached for him then, he didn’t pull away. His mask cracked and a few pieces fell away, but he held the rest steady. “That’s enough for now, okay? If you have more questions, I’ll answer them. Gladly. But you’ve shared enough, okay?” When he studied you, you didn’t let him proceed with his usual scrutiny. “It’s fine, Daryl. We can talk more when—if—you ever want to again. You don’t need to tell me anything else.”

He accepted the out with a long exhale and a nod, his gaze falling away. You embraced the silence and its discomfort, just touching him while he was in a place to allow it. You stroked his cheek, the stubble thicker than usual with his confinement to the bed. You smoothed his hair, scratched gently over his scalp. Finally, you scooted closer and pulled him toward you to meet in the middle. Tangling your legs around his, you guided his head to rest under your chin. He let you without complaint or denial, a testament to how he had silently endured when he needed comforting.

The two of you laid there, his breaths evening out to the point where you thought he had fallen asleep. Then, breaking the silence, he cleared his throat. “Why me?” You pulled back just enough to angle your head and look at him.

“Why you what?”

“Why ya settlin’ with me? We can raise a kid together without you givin’ up a chance with someone better.” He took a deep breath, keeping his head down. “I won’t hold ya to it if ya change your mind later—if someone shows—”

“There’s no one better.” You nearly snapped at him, your tone harsher than you’d ever meant for it to be. He flinched and you instantly hated yourself for it. You’d seen someone’s quick movements earn that reaction before, but words hardly affected Daryl physically, not like that. “Daryl.” You silently pleaded with him to look at you, but were left disappointed. “There’s no one better.” You repeated, so softly that it was almost a whisper, your breath disturbing his hair. “I want to raise this baby with you. I want to be with you. I love you. That’s not gonna change.”

He simply hummed, the sound reverberating against your throat. You wanted to throttle him, but none of his self-deprecation was his fault. You hated people you didn’t even know for it. “Don’t deserve all this.” Your brow furrowed deeply at his words. “Feel like m’gettin’ somethin’ meant for someone else. Like m’takin’—” The words died on the tip of his tongue. What could you even say to that? You could tell him he deserved the world—the fucking universe—but he’d never believe it. You’d just have to show him. It would take time and patience that would likely be tested over and over, but he was worth it.

“You’ll see.” You settled back against him, let silence fall between you again. After a while, he actually did fall asleep, the tension you had noticed in him finally melting away into a restful state he so desperately needed in order to continue getting well. A kiss was pressed into his hair. You never fell asleep yourself, simply lying there with him. Your heart ached yet it was full. With your fingers traveling up and down his back in gentle motions you hoped were comforting even within his dreams, you told him again. “You’ll see.”

Daryl was coughing strenuously by the time you reached the truck, his hand pressed hard against his chest. The cold air, the rush of grabbing up all the bags, the running from the herd—it was taking its toll on his still healing body.

“Keys.” You demanded. “I’m driving.” You could see it on his face that he was going to argue, but he doubled over in another fit of coughs and deep, wheezing gasps. Digging in his pocket through the ordeal, he tossed you the keyring. The bags you two were responsible for were tossed into the back next to the bike. It took the archer two attempts to pull himself onto the bench seat, which required the effort of both your bodies to move back in order to accommodate your 30 week bump. Just as your door closed, a discolored hand slapped against the window, startling you into a shout.

The van was already moving when you pressed the gas to peel out behind it, mowing down at least three walkers. Dark blood splattered onto the windshield, smearing but mostly washing away when you used the partially frozen fluid and wipers. Daryl’s forehead was against the dashboard as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air. You were fumbling for the temperature controls when he smacked your hand away.

“Just—just drive. I got it.” He rasped, the warming air filling the cab a moment later. His back thudded against the seat, shaking it slightly, his head falling back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He was finally sucking in gulps of air into irritated, partially healed lungs. When you reached a point that was safe enough to pull off, you would make sure the group remembered his state of health and didn’t travel for too long before finding anything suitable and safe enough for a stay of at least a few days. “Quit your worryin’, woman. M’good.”

“Just don’t, Daryl.” You argued quietly, desperate to keep the peace between the pair of you that you’d managed to create. “Let me worry. If you don’t fight me on it, I’ll be less likely to do something stupid.” You glanced over, finding his head rolled toward you, his jaw set but he relented with a jerk of his head.

“Fine. Just have ‘em find whatever. S’long as it keeps your ass right here beside me.”

You smiled and silently celebrated your victory, even as he noticed and grumbled beside you. When you placed your hand, palm up, on the seat between you, only a heartbeat passed before you felt him squeezing your fingers.

Roughly eight weeks left, though Hershel said you could safely deliver if you made it at least four more weeks. You were actually becoming slightly miserable. The nausea would come and go, though you actually vomited less and less. Your ankles were missing completely under the puffy skin. Your belly felt so heavy that even just standing was becoming a chore. Lori was sympathetic, constantly giving you advice. Not only you but Daryl as well. You had seen her whispering to him, watched the way he would go completely still, not looking at her but listening intently. Rick could give him all the advice in the world but Lori’s input was crucial. She knew exactly what you needed.

The archer argued with you less and less, though you could see the restraint it took for him to bite his tongue, sometimes literally. He let you hunt with him because you were restless. Lori had said it was because of the urge to start nesting, which you had found amusing, but Daryl already knew about it because of the damn books he continued to snatch up on runs. Why it frustrated you that he was willing to go that extra mile was beyond your comprehension. Maybe because he knew more about what was going on with your body than you did? You should have been grateful, but all you wanted to do was kick him in the shins.

“Can ya just—nevermind.” He grunted from behind you while the two of you tracked some turkeys. You knew they’d be in the trees for the cold weather so you kept your eyes upward, irritating the hunter when you would nearly trip or run into something. Still, he kept his cool, which was admirable for your hot-headed partner. Daryl didn’t like the term boyfriend, you’d discovered during a brief conversation where you’d found your tongue looser than normal and spilling out questions you’d otherwise never ask. The two of you had settled on being partners, though you didn’t feel it was enough to describe your relationship. He had simply shrugged.

You couldn’t hunt with a gun. He’d all but forbade it. Too loud, would draw walkers. So he found you a bow. Not a crossbow but a traditional one. It didn’t take much practice. You only needed to become familiar with the tension of the string, how far to pull for the trajectory and speed needed. Aiming came naturally.

“Shut up, Daryl. I’m fine.” You snapped, instantly muttering an apology. It was but wasn’t his fault you felt so crappy. It took two to make the baby whose little foot or hand or whatever was always pressing into your ribs. You were just as responsible and tried to remember that even when it was you and not him that felt like absolute shit most of the time. As if the world was hellbent on fucking with you, the toe of your boot found its way beneath an exposed root and you nearly faceplanted. If not for Daryl’s constant observance, you surely would have.

He snagged your bicep, dropping his crossbow to reach across your chest and grip your other shoulder. All you needed was a dislocated shoulder when you were already so beyond miserable. He made sure you stayed on your feet, nearly stumbling himself, but saying nothing when you found his irritated but concerned gaze. The weight of it instantly brought on the sniffling you knew was about to lead to a breakdown.

Over the course of only three weeks, the archer had memorized the signs and adapted, learning how to soothe you even at the expense of his own comfort. He immediately pulled you into his arms as close as he could with your ever-growing belly between you, shushing you and rubbing your back.

“S’alright. I won’t letcha fall.”

Noble as his intentions were, that only seemed to stir up even more guilt. “I don’t know why I can’t just listen when you tell me I should stay behind! Why do you let me just do whatever I want even when you know it’s the wrong choice?!” You rubbed your wet face against his button up, leaving a dark spot and not for the first time.

“Cause you’re hard-headed an’ feelin’ like crap. Only make ya feel worse for me to argue with ya.”

And just like that, the switch flipped. “I’m not hard-headed, Daryl! I’m fucking capable and everyone wants to treat me like I’m gonna break!” You pushed him away roughly and stomped forward, sniffling harder than necessary. You heard a sigh from behind you, the sound of him picking up his crossbow and before following at a distance.

When you shot down the turkey, even beyond the pride you felt carrying it back, something told you that he saw it first but didn’t even raise his weapon.

Carol had heated some water for you so you could wipe down, feeling like your skin was crawling after being in the woods all day. It was a foreign feeling for the leaves and cool, fresh air to feel like it stuck to your flesh and needed to be scrubbed away. You were a mess. Your body hurt and you constantly needed to pee. You were irritable. You’d want Daryl to fuck you one minute and then shove him away the moment he touched the slick apex of your thighs. You were torturing the poor man who didn’t have a clue how to provide the type of comfort you needed when he couldn’t even process how to overcome his own lack of it growing up.

You didn’t hear him enter the room as you bowed over the small sink in the dusty bathroom, your skin still damp beneath your long sleeved shirt and flannel sleep pants. You had washed your hair to the best of your ability, the wet strands forming a curtain around your face that blocked your view of the door. You didn’t startle when you felt the heat of his body behind you. It was familiar at that point in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl.” You whispered, the syllables of his name coming out as a soft whimper. His hands settled on your hips, fingers flexing nervously.

“S’okay.” He stepped closer and you fully expected to feel his erection press against your ass, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the firm safety of his body, your human security blanket. “Wanna—can I try somethin’?” His voice shook beside your ear but his hands remained steady, digits still squeezing and releasing. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, his exhale warm against your neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his warm palms sliding beneath your belly and lifting with more gentleness than you were aware a human being could possess. The absence of the weight pulling down was an instant relief, your muscles turning to jello. You leaned back against him and he kept you upright, silently offering you comfort and succor that your body didn’t even know it needed.

“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes fluttering closed and head laying back against his shoulder. The tears came when his lips pressed against your temple, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for what you were enduring. “Thank you.” Your own appreciation trembled over your lips, whether toward the man at your back or a god you weren’t sure you believed in for putting him there.

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