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#I have already yelled about this but I am annoying
faerievampling · 1 day
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Killing Time
Chapter 17: Rogue
Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Vampire Tav (female reader)
word count: 5.5k
Summary: After their fight, Tav and Astarion spend some time apart.
warnings: 18+. Mention of SA. Graphic Violence. PiV. Vaginal Fingering.
Link to Ao3 | Killing Time Masterlist
A/N: Hope you guys enjoy the flashback scene here from Act 3 😆 I enjoyed writing them in game and fleshing them out a bit more. Next update will be within a week <3
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It’s about a little after midday, and you’re fucking bored of being in the library. You’d been napping somewhat peacefully after getting out some of those pesky emotions, but now you find yourself without wine, blood, proper clothing, or servants at your disposal. Since you aren’t connected to Astarion anymore, how are you supposed to call on them? You find yourself antsy, your fingers twitching as you desperately need movement – you need to do something, lest you wallow away in your grief for eternity. 
You feel like striking something or someone as you exit the library – your nails are digging into your palm. You tentatively make your way through your palace, slowly walking through the corridors and hallways to soak it all in. Your home is colorful, decadent, tasteful, albeit eccentric; you and Astarion have many decorations collected from all over the realms, and countless portraits and paintings of your little family. Your palace isn’t as sprawling as some: more compacted to fit a man, his wife, and a few servants and spawn. This makes you wonder where exactly Astarion is keeping all of your new…children. Below. They must be below. 
As the admittedly petty (and very pretty) lady of the house, you think you should meet them. Before that, you need a wardrobe change. Truthfully, you huff and stomp to the servant's quarters, meaning to demand Bethild’s presence in accompanying you to your chambers. The servants’ quarters are reasonable, spacious, and clean, if a bit dull – only a few servants lived on the ground, Bethild unfortunately not being one of them. She had chosen her young child over serving you, which made you scoff when Astarion told you. 
‘It’s an honor for that young lady to even touch me, Astarion!’ You yelled at him through the expanse of your shared minds. 
“Of course! I know that, my treasure, but what else am I to do? She’s the one we want, isn’t she?” Astarion was always trying to reason with you. He always tries to fix all he can and you know this – but nonetheless, it makes you feel angry when he can’t. Even then, even when he couldn’t make your favorite (you wouldn’t ever admit this to her, of course) servant live on the grounds with you, to be at your disposal always, it made you irate. Astarion can always give you what you want, why is he acting like he can’t do it now? 
‘Compel her.’
Astarion paused for a beat. ‘Is that truly what you desire?’
Astarion talked you out of it. He would have done it upon your insistence, probably, but you ultimately trusted his opinion on the matter – and Bethild does annoy you. You start to think maybe you should ask Astarion what he thinks the two of you should do, to fix this brokenness in your relationship, but you guess you already know his answer; upon returning home after finding that stupid sword for Angel and defeating the beholder with your bare claws, Astarion’s first choice was to seduce you, to coax to bed so he could have your body, as if you were some…conquest. Maybe he thought it would help you; hells, Angel suggested the same thing. 
Angel. You can’t think about him for too long. It feels wrong because he’s stirring something inside you, and when you think of it, it makes you want to…run. It’s almost as if you, the ultimate predator, are starting to feel like the prey. This is unacceptable to you. 
“This is unacceptable, Bethild,” You find yourself saying as you find Bethild lounging on a settee, knitting up a project Astarion likely has her working for you, no doubt. Bethild is caught off guard, unsure of exactly what you mean; but you don’t know, either. Your clothing, your hair, your nails, your attitude: all of it was likely to be the source of your disturbance. 
“My lady?” Bethild moves to stand, but you click your tongue at her.
“Don’t act so unfamiliar with me, Bethild. I’ve known your mind almost your whole life,” You try to soften your voice, but you likely fail by the look on Bethild’s face: still, she hardly wavers. She’s handled you for some time now. You don’t need to hide from her. You feel a little lighter around her, you notice. She waits for you to speak. 
“I…” You begin, but you don’t know why your voice falters. 
“Do you need help getting dressed? Perhaps finding your room?”
“No! No…” You swallow. You look at Bethild intensely. She knows you won’t harm her, but she can’t help but feel just a little afraid, her heart beating a little faster by the second: it was only natural for the living to fear the bloodsucking dead. “W-well…”
She knows you’re upset. “Lady Ancunín, wouldn’t you like to wear something more substantial? The Master would be displeased to know you're walking around in your shift.”
Thinking about Astarion makes your chest ache, and hearing his mention hurts no less. You nod in agreement with Bethild – you like your freedom in your dress, hair, and general actions, but you draw a line at meeting a hundred spawn in nothing but a robe. “Please, yes. But…”
Bethild gives you a moment to think, but not too long – she’s quite used to your infamous long pauses and is known to move the conversation along if she feels she must. 
“Are you quite alright, mistress?”
You blink at her. You can’t help but wince in front of her, like a hurt puppy. You don’t think Bethild has seen you this vulnerable before. In your embarrassment, you quickly remind yourself that her demise will come so swiftly, her lifespan ticking before your immortal eyes, and who would she tell of your weakness? Does it even matter to you, anymore? Don’t you just want to be yourself? What does that even mean, to ‘be yourself’?
“How about you sit, dear. You don’t look very well, do you need something to eat?” 
You shake your head, but you sit across from her, entirely unaware of just how awkward you are being. 
“You have children, four of them, don’t you?” You ask; not thinking about how you probably shouldn’t mention her children just after she asked you if you need a snack. ‘A child would probably be just enough blood for a small meal,’ You silently jest to yourself. Astarion would appreciate your joke, you begrudgingly think.
This makes you wonder, for just a moment, about your parents – you don’t think of them often, now, being that you are Astarion’s offspring. In your regards, it was he who raised you; he’s taught you everything you know as a vampire. You’ve been with him since you were just a few years out of girlhood, and he’s been more to you than your parents ever were. It’s hard to remember their faces – for a moment, you think that since Astarion met them so many years ago, he could just show you again, before realizing he can’t, anymore. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the silence in your head. 
Many things have been forgotten by you, simply due to the passage of time; having that worm in your head could’nt have helped. Still, you’ve lived a long life filled with so many pleasures, with discomfort being something that you rarely ever experienced; until you met Geldon Moth, of course. Those painful memories seem to be the loudest, too, even if they are muddled for whatever reason. You don’t know, anymore, and you aren’t sure it matters. You’ve accepted your mess. Now you must figure out how to clean it up. 
But isn’t that what your husband and the servants are for? Aren’t they all here for you? To serve you? You don’t understand your place in the world anymore. 
“Yes, and a grandchild on the way.” When Bethild speaks, you’d nearly forgotten she was there. You smile. Bethild can’t help but remark on your frightening majesty in her head; she isn’t used to speaking with you so casually. At least she doesn’t think you’re ugly. 
“So you’ve spent a lot of time in your marital bed?” You ask, putting off just enough charm to make her agreeable. A blush rises to Bethild’s cheeks.
“My lady…if you must know, yes. My husband and I are quite close.” But her face drops once she seems to realize where you’re going with this. Bethild knows you were taken by an evil vampire lord, and she’s thinking about he probably raped you…
“He did.” You think this is the first time you may have said it explicitly. Your face is stone, your heart is void. Angel said your soul was pure, but you think he must be lying now; because you feel there isn’t anything but darkness inside of you anymore. “He raped me. And he had others do so, too. And now my husband wants my body, and I want to give it to him, but I can’t, and he’s…” You don’t want her knowing about you and Astarion’s other arguments: there is (albeit ancient) murder involved, and she shouldn't know any details. 
“Just being a…” You ponder this for a moment. “A k’chakhi. Is that…has that ever happened to you?” 
No. You and Bethild think this at the same time. Bethild’s had a fairly comfortable life for a peasant: she has a lovely husband, and Astarion pays her well to care for you: which is part of why she’s such a good servant. You know her mind enough to know she’s experienced little harm in her life. The next thing she thinks is how she hates hearing you use githyanki slander – ‘a waste of a perfectly good Lady.’ She doesn’t quite know what it means, only that it sounds vulgar coming from your lips. You can’t help but smile a little, despite the grim topic. 
“It hasn’t, dear. And I’m sorry it happened to you,” Bethild pauses, her plain face twisting in apprehension. “Might I speak freely, Lady Ancunín?”
“Don’t you always?”
“Hmph. As often as I need, darling.” Bethild says, her face softening as she does. Maybe she isn’t so plain as you first thought, the longer you look at her: her skin is clear and soft, and she looks younger than her years. Her rounded chin adds to her almost girlish look, and her eyes have a sparkle to them. You feel relief to see life in her eyes. You wonder if the drow was ever happy. When did he last have a sparkle in his eyes? When he was finally dancing with the maiden of death? Is that who you are, now?
For a moment, you wonder if you’re still charming her by accident: but maybe you’re just seeing her for the first time. Her heart rate is slowing down as she seems to soak you in, too: she wonders about your gold eye. She thinks it's strange but beautiful, and compliments the red one fairly well – but her mind focuses on this for only a second before she wonders if Astarion’s forced himself on you, or been cruel to you in some manner. She doesn’t expect this of him, but she thinks he hasn’t been himself since you disappeared, and even worse since you’ve been back…
“Worse?” You ask, reminding the woman that you’re in her head. Bethild knows this, of course, but it still freaks her out a little. “You think he’s been worse since I’ve returned?” 
Bethild blinks, and for a split second, thinks twice about speaking her thoughts aloud, but she continues. “Yes. He’s…I don’t know if your Master is taking care of himself properly.”
You recognize her words, thinking about how exhausted Astarion always looks, how clingy he’s been with you, and how his words sometimes feel procured, as if he’s only telling you what he wants you to hear. Now, you just feel antsy; this behavior is familiar to you, but in the past, it had always been more explicit. Does he mean to lock you away again? Surely he wouldn’t…
Bethild notices your runaway thoughts, quickly redirecting you. “Come, let’s get you into something decent.”
But Bethild’s thoughts linger: she doesn’t understand why you haven’t spoken to your master yourself – why you haven’t noticed his changes. But she suspects you’ve been far too wrapped up in yourself, as you always are. Bethild brings you something casual to wear from your bedroom, and you end up changing in the servants’ quarters for the first time in your whole life. There’s nothing special about it: merely prompting you to consider how you’ve ended up right here, right now, and how you are going to remedy it. 
~ ~ ~
Astarion can’t tell if it’s in his head or not, but he feels like his siblings – especially Petras and Leon, is targeting you as if they’re trying to kill you first to add insult to injury. Sure, Astarion knows his siblings are being compelled, but still…the look of envy is apparent in the eyes of the spawn. He’s fallen in love, he has friends, allies, and nearly his freedom. Astarion has it all, and the other six have clearly been subject to more torture, and more starvation. He pities them. 
Astarion hardly cares about this anymore. The sacrifice of his siblings was entirely worth it, even if you do hate him. After you left the boudoir, Astarion found himself scrambling around the bedroom, kicking and screaming and crying; once calm, he consulted with the palace wizards, librarians, and the other intellectuals still at the palace until there wasn’t anything else productive to do except try to finally rest. Although he keeps a protective eye on you, just to ensure your safety, he doesn’t bother you, despite how badly he wants to. No, Astarion hasn’t rested for some time – just a few hours of reverie would help, he thinks. He can be with you there; but the memories he lands on surprise him. Why did he go back so far?
Leon lunges at you, hissing and scratching at your armor – you move as if your body follows your arm, swinging your sword through to cut Leon. The feral spawn tries to dodge, but fails, disappearing to red mist just as your sword hits his body. Petras comes from behind you – Astarion is quick with his crossbows, filling his brother's chest with arrows, preventing him from getting another swing at you. Astarion can’t help but protect you in battle. As a rogue, he hides in the shadows, burying his arrows in anyone who dares try to attack you. At one point, Shadowheart even complains, saying Astarion needs to focus on other enemies, not just the ones attacking his girlfriend. He does better spray his arrows out, but he still keeps a close eye on you. You swing your sword with grace, your tactical moves and a body seemingly weightless; you just have a way about you when you fight. You look like a dancer, effortlessly seducing the blade and your foe. He admires it tenfold – and admires you more than anyone in this world. You’re beautiful, kind when life calls for it, brutal all the same. You are balanced – you are balance for Astarion. Watching his siblings hurt you solidified his decision: he would take the ritual from beneath Cazador’s feet, perform that lover's ritual he’s heard about, and the two of you could be safe: forever, for good. When the fight dies down, he immediately comes to you. Seeing that you’re visibly unharmed, Astarion cracks some joke about you finally meeting his family. You don't laugh – you can’t. The worry and fear are all over your beautiful face.
“I’m doing this for you too, you know. So we’ll be safe. Forever, for good.” Astarion speaks with conviction, letting the smile drop from his face to convey how serious he is. He means this, and he wants you to know it. He doesn’t want to play games anymore – he’s tired of being hunted. Tired of fighting, tired of dragging you through this with him – unfortunately, he knows he needs you to defeat Cazador with him. That’s who you are, he begrudgingly thinks: his strong protector. 
“What are you saying, ‘Star?” You ask, eyes wide, reaching out to him; he takes your hands, which are surprisingly smooth despite your tactical abilities. That’s the thing – Astarion knows you don’t really need him to protect you, not physically. But you are a young, naive thing, one he doesn’t want getting hurt. His selfish desire for you is the one thing Astarion is allowing himself, and he needs you to just give it to him. 
“I think I hear wedding bells in your future, Tav,” Wyll teases as he hands his sword to Karlach, who’s promptly wiping off the blood, having been put on this duty after losing some silly bet to Gale that Astarion hadn’t been privy to. Wyll isn’t entirely wrong, but he knows they wouldn’t understand what Astarion wants with you is far more than a legally binding contract. 
Astarion shoots a grimace at Wyll, who does need to shut up. 
Ever since your arrival in Baldur’s Gate, Astarion’s felt both confident and horrifically terrified. Most days, he lands somewhere in between, his greatest comfort being you. The one comfort he wishes he could enjoy fully, despite the two of you sleeping together every night. You have ever since he confessed to you, that when your albeit enjoyable trysts ended, your intimacy and love began. Astarion loves nothing more than to hold you at night. It means so much to him to have someone to be with, someone he likes, someone he loves, and you’re so beautiful…so you. 
“Let me have you tonight,” Astarion whispers to you amidst the soft sounds of your sleeping companions. The commotion of the spawn attack finally dies down, leaving the two of you to the quiet of the suite. Halsin’s snores could be heard from around the room, and Jaheira and Minsc are known to kick in their sleep. Once, earlier in your adventure, you told Astarion you saw Minsc’s dreams one night: he was locked in a cage, tortured next to a far younger Jaheira, whose cries could be heard throughout whatever dark and dank prison they were in. Your psychic background was known to the whole party, but Astarion became privy to some of the finer details of your condition: strange ways you were able to unlock glimpses of the future, and sometimes even the past and present, it seems. You sometimes just knew things that Astarion didn’t know how to account for – to be fair, you’re rather observant, and you have a knack for connecting with others. Not to mention that pesky tadpole, which certainly complicates things, (you attested this to why you had been able to see Minsc’s dreams, but Astarion isn’t so sure) but it also gave you and Astarion insight into each other's minds, and you two became known to each other quickly once you truly bonded back in the Shadow Cursed Lands. 
Astarion uses the tadpole now, sharing his thoughts of burying his face between your thighs before sliding himself into you missionary style, kissing and sucking at your neck before easing his fangs into delicate flesh, your rapid heartbeat loud in his ears, your warm skin beneath his cold touch. Gods; his cock has been hard ever since the end of the battle – after your party had cleaned up, Astarion set his sights on passionately kissing you, grabbing at whatever curvature of your body he could. He quickly got you settled in bed, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly. 
You smile, but you look a little shy, a blush rising on your cheeks. You’re so cute like that, still so shy with him – he understands it. You hadn’t much experience when you met him, other than a few minor instances when you were a teen, when you shared a kiss with Wyll at the damned tiefling party, and the times you recently spent with Lae’zel in her tent, much to Astarion’s dismay. 
He hadn’t cared much about those things then, you being with others. It was more annoying to him than anything else, because it meant there was competition, and he needed you the most. No, Astarion tells himself he didn’t mind sharing your body (at least, for a handful of centuries) just like he didn't mind when you bled a little after he first entered you back in the clearing. He thought it was endearing, to be the first man to break through your walls, spearing through your hymen to reach your depths. When Astarion finally pulled himself out of you to clean you with his mouth, he swore that blood was sweeter than anything…
Not even your virginal blood tastes as good as you do now that you’re his. But when you were still alive, when your heart still beat, Astarion swore it was the taste of the heavens themselves. 
“Are you sure? Last time…” You begin, immediately making Astarion feel heavy in his gut. “I just don’t want you to push yourself, ‘Star. We don’t have to.”
Astarion furrows his brows, desperately wanting you to be quiet – to let him lead, to let him have you. He ignores you, brushing his lips to yours, tongue lazily teasing your bottom lip, using all his sweetest moves on you. 
Astarion doesn’t want to sit with this memory anymore. He wasn’t able to perform that night:
Astarion can’t stop looking at your face. You’re so pretty, such a stunning young woman, and yet, he feels worse and worse as his lips trail over your smooth skin, his fingers swirling inside you. Those same fingers have been inside countless other women and men, and he wants so desperately not to think of it: the sheer number of bodies that have touched him, that have now touched you. He imagines thousands of hands grabbing onto him, onto you, dragging you both below, right back down to the dungeons of Cazador’s estate. He pulls back again, fixing his eyes to yours. The flicker of the fireplace roars in the middle of the suite, giving you both just enough light to admire one another amidst darkness. Your naked figure is something out of a dream, yet it brings him back to the present: you lie on your back. Your naked breasts, your pert nipples, hardened from pleasure and the chill of the breeze from an open window, add only to your sex appeal. Your lips are parted, creating some strange, perverted desire within Astarion to see your tongue. 
You’re so comfortable with him. Him: he who is a monster, a stalker in the night. Astarion’s led hundreds to their deaths. Even just a few months ago, he was doing Cazador’s bidding, and yet here you are: the sweet, even-hearted leader, on her back for the monster. Your racing heartbeat, your utter vulnerability…it’s bringing out Astarion’s prey drive, and his fangs ache to be buried inside you. 
“Astarion…” You whisper, having noticed his absence. You half-heartedly try to pull his hand away from your sex, gripping at his wrist. In a few days, you will face Cazador. And if all goes horribly wrong, this may be one of the last times he could have you – and, truthfully, he thinks it would be a good distraction; he’s in no mood to rest, and watching you sleep is hardly exciting. And now, he’s feeling a bit peckish.
“Shh,” Astarion’s voice comes out in a seductive, hushed whisper. He kisses you again, capturing your protests in his mouth, curling his fingers inside of you to make you squirm. He remembers it’s you crying beneath him, the woman he loves, and not some stranger or friend of Cazador, or Cazador himself…it’s you. And he can bite you, and know all of you because you’ll do anything for him.
“You’re so beautiful,” He coos, unable to contain his praise for you. His nose trails along your jaw, down your collarbone; he can feel you shiver in his arms.
You chirp in pain when Astarion spears his fangs into you; he puts a hand over your mouth, continuing to push his fingers into you, slipping in a third when he feels your contraction die down, your body relaxing once again from your intense orgasm. His thumb gently works your clitoris – your body is so sensitive, and bringing you to ruin makes him feel so powerful. He believes with you by his side, anything is possible. 
Some things never change. 
Astarion can’t feed on you forever: the disgust usually comes back once he draws his fangs away from your neck. He’s already taken too much blood, he can tell just by the way you swoon, the way your hazy eyes slowly blink at him. He can’t deny he likes you this way: you’re weak. You probably couldn’t fight him off if you tried, as you’re naked, woozy from blood loss, and the monster's hands are inside you. 
He would kill to have that trust back. 
His cock is uncomfortably hard as he pulls his underclothes down, his member twitching as he rubs it against your hip. You don’t have much privacy at the elfsong – that’s part of the fun to Astarion – but the two of you have abandoned some caution along the way, ditching the blanket that once covered your forms. If anyone wakes up and sees you now, the shroud of a blanket won’t change a thing: the two of you are obviously making love. Still, you both move quickly and quietly, despite your brief protests when he starts to touch your sensitive bundle of nerves again, which you complain is too sensitive, so overwhelming…
“Y-you just like to play with me,” You cry, against Astarion’s lips, breaking your fervent kisses to take a breath. “Meanie…”
“Oh, I am quite mean, aren’t I, for playing with my food?” Astarion whispers, his voice teasing in your ear. He’s gently stroking his cock, his palm rising up and down on his shaft, squeezing before he starts to rub on your hip again. Bringing his hand to your jaw, he ensures you’re looking into his eyes. He wants you to get lost in him. But it is he who finds himself lost in you.
He wants to tell you he loves you. It pops into his mind quite suddenly, a voice in the back of his head whispering: I love you, Tav.  It makes him wonder why you haven’t said it to him first, though.
He still tastes your blood in his mouth when he brings his fingers away from you, popping them in his mouth, licking them clean. The taste of your blood and your come mix so perfectly.“You’re a feast for me. Don’t you know I survive entirely on the blood and intimate juices of very bad girls?”
Your eyes go wide like a child caught stealing sweets. “Bad? I’ve been bad?”
Astarion can’t help but chuckle, causing you to gasp, putting your hands over his mouth to muffle the noise. He could care less about what the others think: you’re going to be his, and he’s having fun. The two of you continue like this for some time, stifled moans, giggles, kisses and nips…
Astarion only realizes he can’t continue right before he pushes into you. It isn’t the worst kind of torture, not being able to make love to you, but it’s pretty damn bad. He just wants you both to feel good, to be close to each other; one moment, the both of you are stripped naked, hot and bothered, precum dripping from the tip of his cock, your core slick for him, all for him just to have to pull away. 
You hid your disappointment well: you coaxed Astarion back from the brink, making him feel more secure in your love and care. He wonders if your time of nursing and comforting him is over, now that you hate him. No matter, he tells himself, even though he knows very well it certainly does matter. Astarion falls back into reverie, to a slightly later memory:
Astarion has been traveling in the vaults under Sorcerous Sundries in the Gate, just two days after the spawn assault at the Elfsong. You lead the fray, as you always do, with Gale and Karlach in toe, looting the place high and low for supplies. Although the party is pretty rich, you insist on searching every nook and cranny. Astarion agrees with you, of course, because you’re right: he too feels the party needs more time and resources before they attack Cazador’s palace.
‘The Chronicles of Straud’ the title read; it was a thick book tucked away somewhere in Lorroakan's vault, and was making for an interesting read as Astarion occasionally sent glances your way, specifically when you would bend over to pick something up. Your ass just looks amazing in your new armor, and he catches the others checking you out, too. Annoying. 
“Karlach,” Astarion calls, the red tiefling quickly looking away from your round hips as her eyes meet Astarion’s. Gale also turns around, having been startled by Astarion’s voice. 
“What? I didn’t do anything wrong! I was just admiring the lovely armor you bought her,” Karlach chuckles, smoothing away her embarrassment as she wipes her hand across her forehead. You’ve caught on, now, turning around to give Astarion and Karlach a knowing, disapproving look, but you grin nonetheless, unable to hide your laughter. Astarion smiles at your smile. 
Gale and Karlach continue to scour the vault, Gale excitedly calling out every good find, Karlach cheering him on as he does so. You shoot Astarion a sultry smirk before doing a little waltz over to him, plopping down next to him on the steel floor of the vault. 
“What’s got your attention?” You ask, a curious smile on your pretty, smooth face. 
Astarion chuckles, his eyes flickering to your plush lips for only a moment before meeting your eyes. Astarion swiftly closes the book, losing his bookmark on the page titled: ‘The Dark Kiss’. It’s not that he means to be evasive, but he isn’t ready to share with you yet. Once he tells you he plans to make you his forever, that’s basically a love confession and a proposal in one – that’s way too much for Astarion in this state. His freedom isn’t even guaranteed, yet; not while Cazador still lives. 
“Ah, just some reading about the life of Straud. He was a formidable vampire in his day,” Astarion explains, handing the book over to you. You have no real interest in reading some random book, so Astarion knows he’s safe to show you. 
“Oh. I’ve never heard of him,” You say, turning the book over in your hand. He chuckles at this because he isn’t surprised: you knew nothing of vampires when he uh…accidentally revealed himself to you. 
Astarion can tell there’s something on your mind. When he asks you, you explain that you’ve been feeling antsy ever since the spawn attacked in the dead of night. “They tried to take you away – and now we know about the ritual…I just want you to be free. To have everything you want, that I know you deserve.”
Your words are sweet, and your lips are even sweeter. He hungrily kisses you, not caring if the others see. He knows you love him despite your lack of confession, and that you’ll do anything for him – hells, you’ve done everything he’s asked, and more. He just wants to give you so much more than what he can right now. And he should be able to give you something extraordinary once he ascends. ‘The Dark Kiss’: Astarion thinks it sounds sensual. And how lucky he is to have found the ritual hidden amongst Lorroakan’s valuables.  As the days go on, Astarion likes you more and more – and he likes the other less and less. Even he doesn’t want to admit to himself that he wants all your attention. But Astarion knows that wouldn’t be good for the party: there is too much at stake. The thought makes him pause, fluttering his eyes open as he tumbles that ancient thought around in his head: for the good of the party. But Astarion doesn’t care about the party, only the Ancuníns. So, your husband finds himself finally asking: what is best for the Ancuníns?
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the-bi-space-ace · 4 months
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I'm nowhere near done with my full bad batch rewatch but I have said it once and I'll say it again: Echo would understand Crosshair better than anyone else after this experience and that is a hill I will die on.
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youremyonlyhope · 1 month
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why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up
#i'm overthinking something that i did and was told off for doing by my director#and on my way home i was thinking when was the last time i was even talked to like that during a production#and then i remembered the costume experience from hell of only a couple months ago that i've already began blocking out#but the thing is that that person was someone i knew i'd never have to work with again#i mean at first i thought i would have to work with them more. then they announced they were moving away immediately#so i only had to deal with them face to face for another weekish after that point and anytime they yelled at me#i was like 'cool. i'll do exactly what you say to do. and nothing more.' but then of course me being me#i did some extra stuff and they initially were like 'oh that's pretty' and then days later told me to cut everything i added#and like sure i get that the show was frozen but girl. that costume was unfinished. i was trying to finish it. it was frozen but looked bad#anyway. whenever they yelled at me and had actual malice in their heart i was like whatever. i was hurt. but i didn't care as much.#but this time it's someone i've worked with many many times before and it was about a habit i have that i know isn't great#but at the same time the thing that prompted it wasn't even me doing this habit it was something else#but she interpreted it as that habit and said that i can't do that on a production she's directing#and that if i couldn't stop then i could pull out from the production and there'd be no hard feelings between us#and honestly i think her reassuring that she knows i'm valuable and that she wants me there while also telling me not to do this thing#and the fact that she's someone i like working with and will continue to work with just made it all hurt so much more#especially since she referenced another past production we've done where i didn't even realize she had noticed that i do this.#and i found myself in near tears. and still am kind of in near tears. i can't decide if i need to cry or not.#and i had NO sleep last night so i was looking forward to sleeping tonight but now i'm just overthinking EVERYTHING#and like. i know everything will be fine. if i just stop inserting myself and stick to just my specific tasks. it'll be fine.#but this is one of the ways my ocd manifests. i feel like i have to personally fix something i notice going wrong. or it'll be bad.#because every single time i choose to sit back and not be nosy when i notice something it ends up bad in a way i could have prevented#if i just inserted myself in a situation i technically wasn't part of but knew i could help or fix. so i just need to not do that.#but then i feel guilt if it does go wrong in the ways i immediately assumed it would and in a way i could prevent.#and i've been trying to work on this for like 6 months and aaaahhhh it's hard and being called out on it from her just really really hurt#i still may or may not cry. i don't know. the irony of me telling my therapist THIS MORNING that it's been a while since i last cried.#and the universe being like 'i took that as a challenge' and handing me this situation for me to spiral over.#i need to leave things alone. i need to stare straight ahead. and ignore whatever isn't specifically for me to do. but ahhh i want to help#and then of course my mom has this same habit and it annoys me when she does it yet i do it to other people and ahhhhhhhh#brain please just shut up. i need to sleep. i have to work tomorrow.
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seithr · 9 months
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heartbreaking: this user enjoys characters who have a romantic relationship that breaks off permanently in favour of a different one, but really hates when fans of the second one get really weird and hostile about the first one, so they're never fully satisfied
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wickedhawtwexler · 2 years
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i joined writer twitter in an attempt to make some writer friends and learn about the publishing world and y'all it is LITERALLY worse than 2012 tumblr out there. every day i see the WORST takes of my entire life
#someone said ''it's obvious when a writer doesn't read''#and APPARENTLY it is unforgivably ableist to expect people to write books to also read them!!!#like how do you expect to be able to write a form of media you do not consume!!!!!#like i am a proud owner of a broken ass brain i get that it's hard to read consistently but you still have to read SOMETIMES#if you want to write books that are decent!!! i don't think that's ableist i think that's just how writing works!!!#and then someone else was talking about finding comps (similar already published books) & was admittedly a lil snarky about it#but apparently this is every single ism in the entire world!!!#like i think there ARE books out there that don't have obvious comps! the publishing world is very westernized & straight & abled etc.!#but most of the ppl yelling about this are literally writing fairytale retellings Except Now It's Two Princes™!!!#like sweetie please go to your local barnes and noble you will find a hundred books you can use as comps i promise#and then there's a bunch of ppl just straight up ignoring the fact that comps are not supposed to be 100% like ur novel!!!#like. you can compare one element! oh both mcs are bisexual women with adhd! both books have themes of grief!#and now everyone has decided that comps are bad and we shouldn't use them and implying we should makes you Bad#i think comps can be useful. i think 90% of ppl who think their books have no comps have just not looked#ughhHHH it's so annoying but i do get some good writing tips on here#m.txt
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lilgynt · 3 months
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i hate when my mom is like i’m not one of ur little friends no bc they wouldn’t be my friend the way ur acting this is only happening BC ur my mother
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inkskinned · 9 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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tojipie · 7 months
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welcome home <3
he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah
as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3
content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)
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“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.
you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.
toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago. 
the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.
you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.
you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.
there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk. 
metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.
he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.
“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.
warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.
you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder. 
actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his. 
toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper. 
other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.
once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”
today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face. 
you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt. 
strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.
“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.
“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.
you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.
the second was well, the day he went away.
to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway 
“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.
to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.
this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear. 
you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really. 
you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.
prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.
you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view. 
“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes. 
“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.
you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.
the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.
“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.
toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.
 ˚ ✧ ───────────
half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity. 
the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.
“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.
the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.
the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change. 
the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look. 
he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside. 
“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”
you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.
to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.
toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight. 
seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.
the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later. 
you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.
a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.
“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.
“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away. 
“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.
the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.
“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.
“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.
“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.
the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.
waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.
you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade. 
the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car. 
toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.
“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”
you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles. 
“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.
“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.
he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years. 
“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”
 ˚ ✧ ───────────
you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.
the fourth time it happens, you speak up.
“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat
“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.
oh.. oh.
the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.
you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.
the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care. 
you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.
“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.
“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”
fuck it, you think.
“you still remember how to steer?” 
“course i d— oh.”
it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”
you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.
“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base. 
your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.
your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.
“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.
“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”
fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.
“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him. 
 ˚ ✧ ───────────
you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.
“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.
you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.
you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather. 
“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”
“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”
you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.
when it came down to it, you suppose 
he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.
“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.
the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were. 
toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it. 
he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.
this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure. 
toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.
“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”
“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.
thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.
and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.
the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.
your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.
“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.
“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”
“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”
you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.
brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.
“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine
“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.
“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?” 
you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.
hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.
you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.
“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.
“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there. 
“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles
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taglist ! 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82
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toxicrevolver · 1 year
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I GOTTA COMPLAIN. I GOT THE APP UPDATE. IT WAS FORCED UPON ME. I TRIED TO STOP IT.
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WHAT IS THIS SHIT. IT’S UGLY AS FUCK. PUT IT BACK.
ALSO
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WHO THE FUCK IS THIS. THIS WIDGET. ALSO UGLY. PUT IT BACK.
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neo-nomatrix · 1 year
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(My) Nuisance
Hobie brown x reader
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word count: 964
find the rest of the mini series here
synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.
a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used
You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.
Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.
“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.
“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.
“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.
“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.
“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.
“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.
You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.
“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”
“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.
“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.
You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.
You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?
You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.
There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.
You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.
To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.
“What do you want this early?” you groan.
“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.
“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.
“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.
He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.
“Spider-Punk huh?”
“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.
He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.
“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.
“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.
“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.
“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.
In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?
“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.
“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.
“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.
“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.
You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.
7K notes · View notes
allywthsr · 7 months
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FIGHTING BIRTHDAY | (l.norris)
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summary: Lando drinks too much and it gets out of hand, the birthday boy is angry at you
wordcount: 6.3k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: ANGST!, vomiting, being drunk
notes: please let me know if it’s gut wrenching angst, I never feel the angst if I write it. Requested by anon! Thank you for your request, let me know if it’s how you wanted it :)
I hope Lando is okay, that crash was scary!
”Lando, maybe you should slow down with the drinks.“
You were at the birthday party you arranged for Lando, and he was already peppered. He was barely able to stand, his words were just slurs and his mood changed from funny and happy Lando to angry and annoyed Lando. A couple of drinks made Lando a really funny person, when his world started to spin, he got less funny and more agitated and when he was piss drunk, he got angry at anyone, no matter what you would do or who you were. Of course, he was supposed to enjoy his birthday and of course, he could drink how much he wanted but you were scared of what would happen once he reached that piss-drunk stage again. Last time he screamed at you when you wanted to take him home and you didn’t need a redo of it.
Currently, he was at the world spinning stage, but on the edge to piss drunk, so you tried to keep him sane and stop him from drinking so much, or maybe have a water and a snack in between.
”Oh come on Y/N, you only turn twenty-four once, let me enjoy it.“
”Of course, but maybe you should have a water.“
”Where am I? At a race or at a party? Don’t be such a party pooper and let me have fun drinking, I can handle it.“
So you gave him a smile and wandered off to join your friends again, the friends being the driver’s girlfriends. One more drink and he would pass the piss drunk stage and you were scared of it, you weren’t ready to argue over nothing tonight, especially because you’re not sober either, but you knew your limits and you wouldn’t be so angry at someone, no matter how much you drank. So when you saw him downing his glass after you left him, slightly giving you the side eye, Max came and gave him another glass of something strong and they both clinked their glasses together, and Lando took a big gulp of the beverage.
You sighed and Pietra looked at you.
”Is everything okay?“
”Yeah, Lando is drunk again, but I can handle him.“
”Are you sure? Maybe Max can bring him home tonight.“
”No, don’t worry. He‘s my boyfriend, he won’t do anything. And Max is just as drunk as he is.“
After a few minutes, Max and Lando came over, just by the look in Lando’s eyes you could see that he wasn’t on this earth anymore, but somewhere in his drunken mind. Max had to hold Lando up and looked at you with a pleading look, you knew what to do, so you got up and got to Lando’s side. You linked under his arms and walked with him to the bar, ordering two waters, you sat him down on the barstool and tried to get him to drink it.
”Lando, come on. Drink this for me.“
”Wh… s‘thats?“
You knew if you told him it was water, he wouldn’t drink it, so you had to come up with some lies.
”It’s pure vodka, I have one too! Let’s see who can down it first? The winner gets to drink the glass of the other.“
You lifted the other glass, but it wasn’t meant for you, it was also meant for him, maybe this race thing made him drink it.
”Su..re.“
So he lifted the glass to his lips, just as you did and he gulped it down, while you took tiny sips of yours.
”Won!“
”Yes Lando, you beat me! You wanna have mine?“
He only nodded and grabbed your glass and downed it too. Good. At least there is some water in him now. He looked at the guy behind the bar and yelled: ”Can I have something strong?“ or at least he tried, it all sounded like gibberish, but the guy understood and was about to start working on making him a drink but you lifted your hand towards him.
”Hey Lando, look! Max is dancing silly.“
While you held onto his sleeve, so he wouldn’t fall while turning around you talked to the guy.
”Listen, can you just pretend to make him something and can it be a water with some coke, so he thinks he‘s drinking some coke mixture? He‘s had enough.“
The bartender nodded and got to work, while Lando was crackling beside you, apparently, he saw something funny, but when you looked around you saw nothing but his friends dancing normally. He was a completely different person when he was drunk.
When he turned around again, the bartender just put the glass of water with a spritz of coke on the surface. With a bright grin, Lando took it in his hand and took a big sip. This guy was trying to blackout or something.
”Babe… toilet… pee.“
He tried to point to the toilets but pointed in a completely different direction, so you got up and pulled on his T-shirt to get him to stand up too, you had to carry him to the toilets and waited in front of his stall for him to finish his business, but when you heard him gag, you pushed open the door and saw a kneeling Lando.
”Shit Lando, why didn’t you say anything.“
You sat next to him and stroked his back while he emptied his stomach. To be honest? You were happy he was puking right now, at least he would be a little more sober afterwards. When he was finished, you lifted him back up and checked for any spills on his T-shirt, but luckily there weren’t any and he only went to the sink to wash his hands and his mouth. You both went back to the lounge and sat down, you held his drink out to him and he took it, carefully sipping the drink. He looked at you and his eyes looked a little clearer now, but what happened next, was something you kinda saw coming but kinda didn’t.
”Is this.. water?“
”No, look, it’s a really heavy mixture, the coke is almost see-through.“
”Y/N, I know water when I taste it, why are you trying to give me such bullshit.“
”Because you’re drunk, and you should slow down.“
”Who are you to tell me what to do, huh?“
”Someone who doesn’t like your drunk side.“
”Then maybe you shouldn’t be with me“, before you could say or do anything else, he got up and left the lounge, getting lost in the crowd.
Now his birthday was ruined, at least for you. You loved birthdays from family and friends, especially Lando’s, you had planned this day for weeks, organizing everything, down to the last detail and now you sat in the lounge, waiting for it to end. You were mad but mostly sad, you just hoped he would slow down on alcohol and sober up, but you knew it wouldn’t happen.
Every now and then a girlfriend of drivers and friends would show up and talk to you, but you mostly sat by yourself in the lounge, waiting for Lando to come back and apologize. You tried to spot Lando in the crowd, but it was impossible, the club was packed with friends and family of his, and because of the flickering light, they all kind of looked the same.
When Max joined you, you knew it was bad.
”Y/N… I hate to say it, but… I‘m drunk.“
You chuckled.
”I know Maxie, where’s P?“
”I..I don’t know, lost her a while ago, probably dancing really sexy somewhere.“
”Then why are you here, shouldn’t you be dancing with her?“
”No.. Lando is piss drunk and people are leaving… he won’t drink water.“
”I know, but we will leave soon, don’t worry.“
”But he is… rude, make him.. uhm nice again.“
”He‘s rude to me too, tomorrow he‘ll be fine.“
Suddenly Max got up.
”Come on.. I‘ll bring you to Bob.“
You thought it was funny how he slurred his words, due to him being drunk, he probably thought he was saying things perfectly fine but it wasn’t the case.
He held out his hand for you to take and you did, when you also stood and Max started walking, he was swaying from side to side, no longer being able to walk straight anymore. Hand in hand you walked with Max to where you assumed was Lando, he was sitting at the bar. Sitting wasn’t the right word, he was more like hanging over the bar, it didn’t even look comfortable. The club was almost empty now, a few drunk people were dancing or sitting at the bar as well, but it emptied quickly. Lando turned around and saw Max and you, his features darkened rapidly, oh oh. You immediately let go of Max‘s hand and patted his arm, walking the last few meters to Lando by yourself.
”Should we go home?“
”You…. NO!“
His loud scream scared you, and some people turned to see what was going on.
”Lan, come on, you’re causing a scene.“
”I.. am? You’re with Max.“
”He only brought me to you, because I couldn’t find you. Come on, let’s go outside“, but he only turned around and looked towards the bartender again.
”Another!“, and he pointed to his still full glass.
”Man, I think you should slow down.“
”You don’t tell me what to do! You do your job.“
You decided it was enough, this was a poor bartender who could run to the next tabloid and talk about how bad Lando Norris is.
With one last step, you stood directly next to him and grabbed under his arms, to pull him up. He was wonky on his feet and grabbed your waist when he was about to fall.
”You’re a bad bartender… Y/N, tell him to make me another drink!“
”You’re next drink is outside, let’s go yeah?“
Lando nodded and you looked at the bartender, who was looking shocked and you muttered a quiet ’Sorry‘ before walking with Lando out of the club.
”Where’s the drink?“
”At the hotel, should we go there?“
”You set me up!“
”What? No! If you want you can have a drink there, but I’m tired and you should sleep soon too. It’s almost five am, Lando please.“
”You’re a bitch!“
A few people were standing outside, waiting for a cab or smoking, they all looked at Lando and were shocked about his behavior, just like you. Tears were forming in your eyes, but you could hold them back, you didn’t want to cry in front of his friends. You had a few fights when he was drunk but he never called you a bitch before.
”Excuse me?“
”That’s what you are! There’s no drink, you lied to me. I want a drink, I‘m going back in.“
”Lando, no! Please.“
Now he got closer to you, standing right before you and he was angry. He was pointing fingers at you, ”You’re a bitchy bitch, let me have fun on my birthday, but no! Y/N is coming to ruin the day, as always. I‘m not allowed to have fun, not even on my birthday. You’re the meanest person ever, my party is in full swing and you’re moping because I‘m having fun“, you tried to push him away, to distance yourself a little, you didn’t want him to come any closer, not in this state.
”The Party is over, Lando. Let’s go back to the hotel, please.“
But he ignored you and walked back in, with a big sigh, you leaned against the wall and waited a few minutes. You needed to calm down too, being called a bitch by the human you loved most, hurt, it hurt like a bitch. Hah, pun, because of bitch..
You knew he was drunk, but it wasn’t really an excuse, he shouldn’t think about you like that, even when drunk. After a few minutes, you went back in for the hunt for Lando. He was probably sitting somewhere at the bar and that was where you first went.
He was slouched, again, and you had no energy left to fight with him.
”I‘m going back to the hotel, I don’t care if you sit here for the rest of the week or if you come with me. I won’t come and get you in a few minutes when you decide I’m right.“
Of course, you cared if he came back, but you knew this would make him come with you faster, he was like a little child.
”Fine! But only if I get another drink.“
With a sigh you nodded and looked at the bartender, it was the same one, that did the waters for you earlier, he knew what to do, mix water with some random sirup and act like it’s alcohol. The orange-looking drink was downed by Lando and he said nothing, he got up and forcefully grabbed your arm to stabilize himself.
”Ouch.. Lando, you’re hurting me.“
But he didn’t do anything and just started walking towards the entrance.
”Lando, loosen your grip, it really hurts.“
”Shut up, I don’t care.“
Now your eyes were filling with tears, this wasn’t the Lando you knew and loved, he was some other person that you didn’t like. Your arm was hurting but you carried him outside, and when he was leaning against the wall he let go of your arm. You were sure it would leave a bruise.
You waited five minutes for a cab and both of you got in, once it stopped, you told the driver the address and he started driving, during that drive, Lando tried to touch you on your thigh, getting closer to your private area, but you weren’t in the mood. You pushed his hands away and he pouted, trying it again just a few seconds later. You gave him a stern look, but he didn’t care, he kept on doing what he was doing and you endured it. You weren’t ashamed or disgusted by his touch, but you weren’t feeling it. In his drunk mind, he didn’t get it, so he continued. The drive was only ten minutes long, so when you got out and carried Lando up to the room, you were ready for some peace, but luck wasn’t on your side today.
Lando was trying to kiss you and when you turned your head away for the fourth time, he was ready to fight.
”What is your fucking problem?“
”I don’t want to have sex right now, I’m not in the mood.“
”But I am!“
”Go and take a shower or something.“
”Not only are you a bitch, but a boring girl too! You won’t even have sex with me, what kind of girlfriend does that?“
”Lando, please, calm down. Take a deep breath and go to sleep, we‘ll talk about it in the morning.“
”I don’t want to take any of your fucking breathes, they’re useless, just like you. You can’t even pleasure me.“
You tried to stay calm and don’t let the words get to you, but they hit a spot and tears were slowly escaping your eyes.
”Look at you! You’re crying because you can’t take the truth, I’d rather fuck an oompaloompa instead of you.“
You turned around and walked away from him, you tried to get to the bathroom and lock yourself in, give him time to cool down, but he was faster.
”You do not run away from me when I‘m talking.“
”Lando, who are you? My Lando wouldn’t talk to me like that.“
”Your Lando grew tired of you.“
”Just go to sleep, I know you don’t mean any of these things you’re saying right now.“
He scoffed and sat down on the bed, at least something. You quickly changed in the bathroom and removed your makeup, you didn’t do the full skincare routine, you were tired, psychically but mostly mentally. When you came out of the bathroom, Lando was also changed, well, he removed his clothing and was only wearing his boxershorts. On a normal occasion, you would jump his bones and things would get steamy but today, you wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
You sat down on your side of the bed and sighed, this was a night to forget.
”Don’t sigh that loud, the party was your idea. If you can’t handle me drunk, then don’t organize a fucking party for me.“
”I wanted to be nice and organize something you like. Because all of a sudden, you meet these new people and you love parties, just four years ago, you told me how much you hated going out and rather stay in with me.“
”People change, you’re just acting out because you don’t want to see me happy.“
”I want to see you happy! But are you only happy when you’re drunk and partying?“
”You don’t make me happy anymore, so yes.“
Wow, you knew he was angry and this was the anger speaking out of him. He wanted to hurt you and he knew how he could.
”Lando, I don’t think you know what you are saying right now, so it’s better if you sleep and we talk tomorrow.“
”You’re just scared that I‘ll break up with you because without me, you would be a nobody. You wouldn’t have the luxurious life you have now.“
Now you sighed and looked at your fingers, this was a big insecurity of yours. He was right, without him you would still be in your boring job and stuck in your old life, but you liked your new job at quadrant, the traveling you get to do with
Lando and seeing new places all over the world. The idea that Lando could break up with you, was something you carried around every day.
”You don’t even have an answer to that, do you? Because I‘m right.“
”Lando please, you’re hurting me, you’re very mean right now.“
You felt as if you were discussing with a thirteen-year-old teenager.
”You were mean earlier when you brought me water.“
”I only want the best for you, can’t you see that?“
”If you would truly love me, you wouldn’t have given me water.“
”I love you so much! Don’t ever doubt that, but I just wanted you to remember the night.“
He completely ignored your comment and kept going.
”Maybe I should find a new girlfriend, that wouldn’t betray me like that.“
God, you couldn’t believe he was saying such things only because of some water, but he was piss drunk and probably didn’t even know the love he normally felt for you.
”I can just look through my DMs, you have no idea how many girls write me every day.“
He was hitting all of your spots and he knew it, you didn’t know if his drunk mind was trying to get you back for the water, or if he actually meant it, drunk words, sober thoughts, right?
You got up and got dressed again, you couldn’t endure his words anymore, you had to leave for the night, and give him time to cool down.
”What are you doing?“
”I‘m going to sleep somewhere else, you’re hurting me and you said it yourself, when I ever feel like I’m not welcome somewhere, I don’t have to feel the need to stay - so I’m not staying.“
”So you’re leaving me?“
”Only for the night.“
You gathered new clothes and your toiletries before packing everything in your backpack.
”I‘ll get a new room or something, you sober up and maybe think about your actions. I‘ll be back at some point.“
”Pathetic, you’re running away from me.“
”I‘m not runni-“
”And to think that I was going to propose to you soon, I‘m so happy you showed me your true colors.“
Your heart sunk, a proposal? It made sense, you‘ve been together for years, and everything went well, normally. You two were in love.
”Lando please, it’s only about a water, you’re acting like I cheated.“
He sat up and glared at you, ”It feels like it, you cheated on me when you gave me that water. It was my birthday, I‘m supposed to enjoy that, not drinking water.“
”We’re running around in circles, I’m leaving and you get back to me when you’re sober and know what you’re talking about.“
”I wouldn’t have thought that you would ever run away from me.“
”I‘m giving us space before we say things we don’t mean, or I say things I don’t mean, you already said things.“
”Only true things.“
Without another word, you grabbed your backpack and put it on back, walking towards the door, giving the room one last glance, to see if you collected everything for the night.
”Lay on your side at least, I don’t want you to choke on your own vomit“, even when he said such mean things to you, you still cared.
”I wish I‘d never asked you to be my girlfriend, then I would’ve fucked a random girl into oblivion and I wouldn’t have blue balls right now. In fact, I wish I‘d never even met you, I‘d have a more stress-free life.“
Before he could say anything else, you opened the door and rushed through it. These words were hurting you badly, did he mean them? Without trying to think about it, you made your way down to the reception to ask for a room, and luckily they had one available in that you could move in right away. The receptionist did look at you weirdly and asked if she could help, but you declined and only said you just needed a new room.
When you moved in and laid on the bed, all you could think about was the words Lando said to you, what if it was true? What if you‘d never met Lando, maybe he’d be happier now, not angry at you for giving you water. It’s stupid, because of a damn water. You were sure if he had drunk any more alcohol, he would be black-out drunk right now, maybe that would’ve been better than trying to get him to sober up. There was no right or wrong here, you just hoped he was back to normal when he woke up. If he felt sorry he definitely had to do better than just apologizing, but you needed time, a lot of time. Being called a bitch by your boyfriend wasn’t something that was okay in any way. You were scared of what the day would bring after you woke up, either he would understand his mistakes or both of you would be single.
You tried to fall asleep, but your thoughts drifted back to Lando, was he sleeping? Was he vomiting? Hopefully, he didn’t vomit in his sleep and choked on it. You watched some Netflix and while doing that, you finally fell asleep.
The next morning you woke up in a cold bed, the bed always felt cold without Lando in it, and with all the things he said to you, you still missed him. Your phone was pinging with messages and they were from Lando and some of your friends. First, you looked at Lando’s and saw what he had to say.
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When he was trying to call you, you thought about answering, but you wanted to let him cook a little longer. Maybe it was selfish, but you wanted him to hurt a little too, all the ugly things he said to you weren’t something lightly, and even because he was drunk, it wasn’t something you should use as an excuse.
Next, you looked at your friends‘ texts.
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Shit. You didn’t know there were pictures taken, so not only did you have the situation with Lando, but now it was public and you seemed like the bad guy, when you did nothing wrong, you only gave him water to sober up.
But eventually, you couldn’t contain your anger towards him and you were scared of the conversation, after an hour of ignoring his texts and calls, you got ready and gathered your things before going to your old room. You unlocked the door and Lando stood in the room.
”Y/N! Where have you been? I was super worried,“ he ran to hug you, but you didn’t hug him back, you only stood straight and waited for him to be done. He tried to kiss you next but you only turned your head to the side, so his lips grazed your cheek.
”Are you okay? Why are you not kissing me back?“
”We should sit down.“
He looked at you confused but sat down on the bed and waited for you to say the next thing.
”The last thing you remember from yesterday was you puking?“
He nodded.
”You got more drunk after, and well, you were pretty hurtful towards me.“
”What did I say?“
”You called me a bitch, said you wish you never met me, then you wouldn’t have such a boring life or made me your girlfriend, said I can’t pleasure you, you were rude to the bartenders, should I go on?“
”That wasn’t me.“
You scoffed, of course, it was him. You pulled out your phone and opened the link your friend sent you of the article.
”If you tell me, this isn’t you and me, then I believe you.“
He looked at the article with big eyes and was stuttering, clearly, he didn’t expect there to be pictures of the situation.
”But why were we fighting? Everything was perfect.“
”Yeah, until you were too drunk and I tried to give you water to sober up, you noticed and freaked out. Called me a bitch and all that, when I finally dragged you to the hotel, you said that you never should’ve met me.“
He got up and walked through the room, ”all because of water?“
You nodded and looked outside the window with the beautiful view on the strip.
”Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that, you have to trust me.“
But you said nothing and kept looking out the window, you knew this was coming, but you were too hurt to let it slide.
”Y/N, please. You’re not a bitch, you’re my angel. I love you so much.“
”Drunken words, sober thoughts, remember.“
”You know how angry I get at things when I’m drunk, do you remember the time I yelled at Max for standing too close to the drinks? Because of stupid things, I get angry. I didn’t mean anything I said.“
”Doesn’t justify it, Lando I’m sorry but I don’t know if I’ll stay in Vegas, I wish it turned out different but you really fucking hurt me.“
”No! Y/N! You can’t leave me, I need you. We planned so many cool things in Las Vegas.“
”Maybe, but I didn’t think you would hurt me that much.“
He sat down and grabbed your hand, you let him, after all, you loved him.
”You have to believe me, baby, I didn’t mean anything I said. I love how cared for me and tried to give me water, I’ll never drink again, I promise!“, he tugged a loose piece of hair behind your ear and grabbed your chin to make you look at him.
”Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously Lando. You called me a bitch, drunk or not, this is something that came out of your mouth!“, now you were the one that got up and released yourself from his touch.
”I am! I just think we should forget about it, because, clearly, I wasn’t me.“
With a huff, you went and grabbed your bag.
”Think about what you did, I need to go, maybe you were right, maybe we never should’ve met, maybe this relationship was supposed to last for a few years, but not forever and always.“
”Wait Y/N, don-“, but before he could continue, you were out the door and in the hallway. Slowly you walked to the elevator and waited for him to run after you, but he didn’t. The door stayed closed, no matter how long you stared at it and waited for it opened. With tears in your eyes, you waited for the elevator and it took you to the lobby.
You had no plan for where you were going, you just walked. You wanted him to think about the things and realize this isn’t something that he can fix with an easy ’I‘m sorry‘. You walked for at least an hour before resting in a small café near the strip, you prayed that there were no fans of Lando, normally you loved meeting the faces behind the edits, but today you needed your peace. You ordered your favorite beverage and checked your phone, not one call or text from
Lando appeared on the screen, instead millions of messages from Instagram. Private messages, comments, tagged pictures and videos, the list goes on and on. You had even received messages from your and Lando’s parents, yours were worried about you and wanted to know what happened, same as Lando’s. They also told you they couldn’t reach Lando and wanted to know if he was okay. This was all too much, you wish you threw this damn party, then you would be happy with Lando right now. You hated fighting, especially with Lando. After sitting there for at least thirty minutes, you decided it was time to talk about it, you couldn’t endure the unknown anymore, you needed to know what would happen with your relationship.
Once again you held the plastic card against the door and the red light turned green, you opened it and were welcomed with a big bouquet of flowers. You walked further into the room but couldn’t find Lando, instead, you saw two bigger boxes sitting on the bed next to a piece of paper, you sat down and read.
’My dear angel,
I‘m sorry I hurt you, it never was my intention to do so. I know being drunk isn’t an accuse of actions and I’m not saying that anymore, what I did was stupid, you’re not a bitch, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, I am so glad I met you that day, because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be nearly as happy as I am. You pleasure me just perfectly, I don’t think that there was a day in these five years where I wasn’t ready to fuck you, by just looking at you. Yes, even in your sweats and with your bun on top of your head.
If I could turn back time, I would. My behavior was unacceptable, and it’ll never happen again, I promise. I love how you cared for me, and kept on trying to give me water, and rubbing my back while I was puking all over the toilet, that’s true love.
I‘m giving you space, take as much time as you need, I’ll wait. If you want to go home, just text me and I’ll book the next available flight home, whether it’s Monaco or your actual home, you won’t even see me, if you don’t want to. But if you’re able to give me another chance, in the two boxes next to you, are things I know you wanted for some time now. I‘m not trying to buy my way back to you, just know I did this to show that I care about you. I have made a reservation in the restaurant you desperately wanted to go to, but it was all booked out. Being a driver comes in handy I guess. I‘ll wait for you. The reservation is at 8:00 pm, don’t feel the need to come, it’s fine if you need more time, I can’t blame you, it’s all my fault.
I‘m sorry, I love you.
Yours.‘
He could be actually really sweet. You dropped the letter on the bed and got up to face the boxes, you first opened the smaller one, in there were your favorite shoes, in that color you wanted. You‘ve been in Lando’s ears for months, that you want to buy them, but you were too stingy. You turned them around in your hands and admired them, they were beautiful. A small smile fell over your face.
Next, you opened the bigger box and pulled the material out, that was wrapped in satin paper. It was a designer dress that you loved, you saw it some time ago when you were window shopping with Lando and you couldn’t get it out of your head. The price was way too much tho, and you forbid Lando to buy it for you, I guess he didn’t listen. You looked back to the flowers and admired them as well, he did go all out. The anger was still there and you were ready to have a screaming match with him, but you felt a little better, the walk also helped clearing your head.
The time on your phone showed you, that it was already 6:32 pm. You thought about just leaving and taking the space you needed, but you couldn’t dump him in this expensive ass restaurant. You were angry, but not cruel.
So you put on your makeup, doing your hair and lastly you put on the dress, it fitted you like a glove, it better does, it costs way too much money for the amount of fabric that goes into it. You looked at your new sneakers, but you couldn’t wear them to this expensive ass dress, so you went with your normal heels. Seeing it was already 8:02 pm, and you had only now left the room, you were going to be late. But he deserved it, you were going to meet him, but you could be a little late. He was definitely sweating already because you weren’t there yet.
You took a taxi to bring you to the restaurant and because of the Grand Prix, the streets were closed and it took longer than normal to get there. Now it was 8:19 pm and you only got to the outside of the building. The elevator was taking you up to the last floor and the waitress waiting at the front desk was welcoming you with a smile. She brought you to the table where Lando was sitting, when he saw you, his eyes lit up and he stood up to greet you. He gave you a kiss on your cheek and you both sat down.
”I‘m glad you came.“
”I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.“
”Oh.“
”What Oh? Lando please,“ you tried to keep your voice calm, so others wouldn’t shift their attention to you, ”You said things that clearly upset me, you can be happy that I’m here. I don’t think a lot of people would do that.“
”I‘m sorry, I didn’t think yo-“
”You didn’t think, seems like you’re not doing that a lot lately.“
Before Lando could answer, a waiter came to you and you ordered your drinks.
”I‘m really sorry, you have to believe me. My behavior wasn’t okay, and it won’t happen again. I promise.“
You said nothing and kept quiet, you didn’t want to forgive him already, he should feel the pain you felt.
”Thank you for the clothes,“ came out of your mouth after you got your drinks and ordered your food. You may be mad, but he still paid hella money for the things.
”You only deserve the best, you know that.“
You nodded. The silence was loud and both of you didn’t know what to say, that never had happened before, normally you always have something to talk about.
”Baby, what do I need to do, that you forgive me? I‘m really sorry. I‘ll do whatever.“
You grabbed his hand that laid on the table.
”I need time, I won’t leave, but I can’t jump back into how we were before the party. Just give me time and you need time to reflect on everything too. Just because I’m staying doesn’t mean it’s fine, neither am I. I love you so much, but you hurt me big time, you humiliated me in front of our friends and tabloids. I need you to be a good boyfriend.“
”I‘m so sorry, it never was my intention to hurt you, nor publicly. I hate myself for letting this get out of hand, I don’t know why I was acting that way, I just know that it’ll never happen again. You have to trust me with that.“
He squeezed your hand and looked at you, you could clearly see how sorry he was. He was embarrassed and you could feel it, he was acting all shy and didn’t really know what to do, he'd never been like that before.
Your food came and it was enjoyed in mostly silence, a few comments about the food or view you had up here, were made, but you both were stuck in your own mind.
The walk to the hotel was silent as well, you were walking next to each other but without touching, it was awful. It has never been that stiff between you two, so when you stood in the elevator that brought you up to your floor, you couldn’t endure this feeling anymore. You hugged and squeezed him tight.
”I love you, okay? We‘ll work it through and we‘ll be okay, don’t worry.“
You looked up at him and pressed your lips to his, he was melting down in your touch and finally relaxing a bit.
”But you also said something else while you were drunk.“
Lando feared the worst.
”You want to propose?“
taglist: @millinorrizz
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hearts4chriss · 3 months
Text
𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.
𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑
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Brothers bestfriend! Chris + needy! Nate’s lil sis
prompt: Nate ( ur older brother ) wants to go out for a bit with some of his other friends and he doesn’t trust you enough to stay home by urself without mom and dad since they won’t be there either. So he asks one of his best friend Chris to stay over and watch you, Matt and nick know ur crush on Chris so they pretend they can’t come.
Part 01
contains: masturbation ( no actual sex ), use of y/n ( sorry I have to ) dirty fantasies ( pet names, rough! Chris, dirty talk, degrading, forced head etc just beyond FILTHLY imagination ), use of vibrator on reader, caught by Chris, FORESHADOWING, fantasy will be like this
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Nate are you serious I’m not 12! I whine when said he was gonna find a baby sitter for me knowing how much it pisses me off
I’m Nate doe’s little sister I’m 18, we’ve Been close to his bestfriends the sturniolo triplets. So obviously him being my brother naturally I got to know them.
Nick
I clicked with him superrr fast, I love his energy and when I found out he was gay that just made it all the better because I’ve always wanted a gay bestfriend, and we always have sleepovers :)
Matt
Matt’s absolutely adorable I love him he always helps me calm down whenever I’m about to or am having a panic attack, I remember one time during a test I forgot everything and almost had one and he slid me the answers. Love that kid
now there’s a reason I saved Chris for last,
Chris
chris and I know each other just as well if not even more then I do his other two brothers, we haven’t done anything unfortunately. I’ve had a crush on him since middle school.
First I just wanted to kiss him and hold his hand.
Then go to his house and do some more.
Then now, as an 18 year old I wanted him to fuck my Brains out.
I’m around him all the time since we all live in LA and always hanging out, I always see him shirtless and fucking hell it turns me on, I always get lucky since nick and matt found of my attraction to his brother they always snap me or text me pictures of him.
What sucks is I cant have him. It would take my life 1000 times over for me to be able to fuck chris sturniolo, and it sucks because my brother nate does not play that shit.
He strictly said "your not allowed to date any of them" obviously referring to matt and Chris.
Which also doesn't help because my wants and desires a hormonal teenage-adult girl only grow more whenever he comes around, chris is always there.
Now today, nate had to run some errands and nick matt and chris used to watch me when I was younger if my parents couldn't
Buttt, nick and matt "could not come due to personal issues" so. Your guess is right, im gonna be alone with chris for hours.
That thought alone made me soak in my p-
“Y/n! are you listening to me kid?” My older brother chuckles leaning against my doorway of my room as im on my bed watching "The Vampire Diaries".
“Huh? oh yeah im listening matt and nick cant come so chris is because im fucking 11.” I roll my eyes hiding my excitement from him watching me.
“Don't think of any weird shit alright? He's just watching you so don't-“
“Ugh is he here yet? You're annoying me already.” I groan shifting in my sheets and taking a sip from my celsius hearin our door open, they have a key.
“Welp thats chris.” Nate says tilting his head for me to get up.
I get up from the sheets wearing some pink sleep shorts and a white t-shirt and he raises an eyebrow.
“Your wearing THAT? around chris?” Nate chuckles and I flip him off.
“Hey! I heard that!.” Chris yells coming up the stairs sounding offended.
He's now at the top of the steps. oh my fuck he looks so good.
Its around 6ish in LA right now and hes wearing a black tank top and grey fresh love sweats, slight stubble and his hair was a bit messy which I always liked and my eyes immediately drifted to his natural bulge in his pants as him and Nate were talking.
“Just make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” Nate puts his arm around me giving me a hug and Chris chuckles.
“Don’t worry bro she’s safe with me.” He says before dapping him up as Nate leaves the house. yeah safer if you were balls deep inside
Oh god Chris sh-shit so-d-deep inside me
Yeah? You feel me deep inside you baby?
bro she’s like zoning out today. Nate chuckled and I snap out of it
Whatever no I wasn’t! Just go!
Soon after it was just me and Chris so we made our way down to the living room
“Where are ur other two clones?” I chuckle getting situated on the couch before turning on a movie saltburn
“they have “personal issues”.” He said rolling his eyes causing a small laugh to fall from my lips.
“So it’s just you and me little one.” A smirk curving on his lips, just enough for my panties to be soaked.
Shut up Chris I’m 18.I mutter trying to watch the movie in peace and he chuckles
the movie went on and it was now, the bathtub scene where jacob elordi ( Felix ) is jerking off.
I peer over to Chris whose eyes are clearly fixated on the screen as my squeeze my thighs together under the blanket feeling all my hormonal thoughts leaking through my panties.
This had nothing to do with the movie, it’s the thought for Chris doing that to himself that had turned me on most. The tension so thick a knife couldn’t even cut through.
“Uhm I-i gotta go to the bathroom”. I nearly choke and I fix my shorts placing the blanket down where I was sitting.
“Don’t take to long I’ll miss you.” He chuckles and that didn’t help.
I go to my room and close the door squeezing my eyes shut.
I had maybe 5 minutes to relieve myself.
I quickly reach into my drawer grabbing my vibrating dildo and the remote for it.
I pull down my shorts and panties and spread my legs letting the tip of the toy get coated in my wetness and I bite my lip slightly feeling the thickness of it.
I turned it on letting out a soft moan slowly inserting it, wishing this was Chris’s dick instead.
I began thrusting the toy in and out of my pussy letting the squelching sounds of arousal grow letting it drip down curling my toes throwing my head on the pillows allowing my mind to drift
I was in Chris’s/my room my head smushed in the pillows as his cock rammed inside me whilst I was on my stomach. His hips slamming against my ass and his hand wrapped around my lower stomach as I cried out his name
Fuck fuckk so d-deep- I whimper into the pillows as he was bringing me to my 4th orgasm, we had switched numerous positions and my legs were quivering in front of him as he laid a hard snack to my ass chucking behind me.
such a fucking slut letting me fuck you like this, imagine if ur brother found out his little sister was getting her pussy pounded by his bestfriend. He laid another harsh smack to my ass and I jolted forward.
stretched this pussy out so good- he groans rubbing my clit to chase both our orgasms.
ngh- o-oh shit- fuck- I gripped the sheets tightly curses of Chris’s name flew out my mouth feeling my eyes water from the angle of his hips thrusting allowing his thick cock to hit every single spot inside me
come on sweetheart cum for me, you have another one in you yeah? He grunted lowly in my ear kissing me sloppily as a string of Saliva parts from our lips each time we kiss moaning into each others mouths.
“Oh fuck Chris I-“ I curl my toes and yell loudly as I’m about to release on the toy before I look up and see Chris. Was. Watching me.
“Were you playing with yourself?” Chris leans on the doorway of my room his eyes darting to between ny legs as I was thrusting the toy in and out of me and I quickly covered up my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Uhm…maybe. Sorry I-I’ll be down in a second-“
Maybe I can help. Chris says closing the door to my room approaching my bed
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multific · 7 months
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Injury
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Astarion x Reader
Summary: Astarion has a strong affection towards you, so when you get badly hurt during a mission, he is mad.
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You woke to his yelling.
He was angry, perhaps beyond angry.
You heard him yelling and even stomping his feet. The others were dead silent. You assumed no one dared to speak up to the very annoyed vampire.
You were hurt, you went out with the team, assuring your Lover that you would be okay, but due to some unforeseen circumstances, you were hurt rather badly.
He was on his way back to your camp when he smelled the blood. Too much blood for his liking.
And he knew that sweet tint, a signature if you will, to confirm that indeed, the blood was yours.
And he saw red.
He stormed in and demanded an explanation.
You were badly cut during a surprise attack from a goblin. A cut deep and painful.
They tried to heal you with any potion, or magic they had but all failed. It was believed the sword which cut you was of a special material.
So, you were bound to bed.
And not long after you fell asleep, you heard the yells of your Love. He was angry and rightfully so.
You wanted to call out to him, tell him to come to you and hug you, help you sleep, but you couldn't, you were too weak.
Soon, you heard the entrance of the tent being moved and a warm presence filled your room.
You felt already a lot better.
And when your eyes met Astarion's beautiful ones, you moved your hand for him to hold. He sat down next to you on the floor and held your hand gently.
"My Darling, I am so sorry. How are you feeling?"
"My head hurts." you replied weakly.
"I smelled the blood... I was so scared, Love."
"I'm so sorry for making you worry." 
"Then never leave my side ever again." you wanted to laugh but your side hurt too bad, so you only smiled.
"It will leave a scar." you let out a sigh.
"A scar is the last thing I worry about. Your well-being is much more important." he leaned over and placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'll let you sleep now."
"Don't leave." you said as you grabbed his sleeve. 
"I'm not going to. I'll stay here with you, I just think you should sleep." you watched as he got into more comfortable clothing, which for him means only a pair of pants and he soon laid down beside you.
You slowly moved closer to him as your back met with his front and his arms moved to hold you even closer.
"I promise, I will never go out without you. It was stupid and I nearly died. I don't want to die." you felt his hand shake a little upon your confession.
"I don't want you to die either, My Sweet." there was a moment of silence, during which you felt as if he wanted to say something more. "I told you I would be able to turn you."
"I don't have enough blood in me to have this conversation, Astarion. And we talked about this before."
"I know. I'm just scared to lose you."
"I'm too stubborn to die, you know that." you felt him smile into your neck.
"Sleep now." he said and you had no objections.
Maybe one day, you will become a vampire. Maybe one day, you can make the promise of forever to each other and truly mean forever.
But you weren't ready just yet.
And until the day comes, you are going to enjoy every second with him. Because even if you are injured due to your own fault, he still held onto you so sweetly, he still kissed your hair with such admiration and love.
You were going to enjoy every second for now, before your forever with him starts.
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~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
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hxltic · 28 days
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nsfw warning!!
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Geto is an asshole.
And what comes with that, is his asshole tendencies.
You’re absolutely livid, yelling into your phone about something, but he can’t even tell you what, because he’s too busy with matters in his own hands. Literally.
“I actually can’t do this. You’re so goddamn frustrating!” Your finger presses to your temple as you pace the kitchen of your apartment, feet patting heavy against the tile. “Are you even listening!?”
And no, he isn’t, because then you hear it. Deep breaths, accompanied by the occasional grunt.
It stuns you out of your anger. Is he serious? You press your ear to the cool screen of the phone you’re holding tight in your hand as if it would help you hear clearer. You test in utter disbelief, “Geto, are you there?”
“Huh,” is the breathless response, “Yeah, baby, I’m here. What were you saying?”
And you fall right into his trap by repeating yourself despite how angry you are, trying to dismiss what you presume he’s doing. Until it intensifies.
On the other line, his hand is sliding to his base, gripping his balls, then trailing right back up to the tip where he squeezes, the precum oozing out onto his thumb. “Fuck,” the curse spills from his mouth.
There’s a shit show playing on your side while he’s sulking in the comfort of his bed and your passionate voice over the phone. You try your best to ignore the slow throb between your legs and continue defending your argument. However, he becomes too much to ignore.
“Are you jerking off right now? Seriously?” You walk yourself back into your room and sit on the side of the bed. He only answers with a moan into the air that was deliberately louder than the ones before it.
A beat passes, then you hear him and the faint squelching of his hand running along his slick cock in the background. “You’re so annoying.”
“Shit, I’m so what?” He rushes out, but he heard you loud and clear.
How couldn’t he? The phone was pressed right up against his ear by his shoulder. You can practically hear the smirk on his face but you’re not falling for it again; Geto knows you know how much he loves your filthy mouth and hearing you so upset that uncommon curse words begin to fly from your lips. “Are you touching yourself? You don’t take anything seriously! I’m trying to have a real conversation!”
“In my defense, you don’t know how sexy you sound right now.”
You put it on speaker, face turning red while you shout into the mic. Was it embarrassment or fury? You don’t know. But you’ve already fueled his desire by previously cursing at him and saying crude things, so you try to refrain from that. He constantly talks about how his blunt, dirty mouth rubs off on you. “I take things seriously.” He adds, his tone still teasing. An audible hum of pleasure travels through the line.
“Geto. No you don’t. We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t doing what you’re doing— it’s why we’re arguing in the first place!”
“And what am I doing?” He huffs out, but you’re too distracted by the rage to consider what he’s trying to finesse you into saying. His hand picks up speed from the slow, lazy strokes.
“You’re fucking yourself over the phone! Can’t you understand how upset I am!?” And then you realize the result of your actions when he groans loudly and the squelching picks up. You don’t imagine his rugged breaths or the rise and fall of his chest because it’s getting harder and harder to stay angry, but then what he considers more important will all return to you, bringing the irritation tenfold. “You’re the worst.”
He chuckles gently and another groan follows. “Say it again.”
“You’re. The. Worst.”
“God, keep going, I’m close,” he presses on.
You clench your thighs together and mentally curse him at the same time. You guess you had said it aloud too, but you hadn’t known since it came out as a murmur and an afterthought. “I hate you, go to hell.”
It’s then he swiftly twists his wet, red tip and the loudest groan you��ve heard all night ensues. Geto honestly wasn’t really a moaner, but you knew it was real, the grunt and the sounds and the quick air blowing into the mic afterwards.
You also knew it wasn’t helpful to accidentally keep entertaining him and enjoy the audio in the meantime when you could have hung up by now, but you couldn’t help it. There was something compelling you from pressing the big red button and it has everything to do with the clever man and his sounds.
Faded white spurts out everywhere onto his abdomen, some reaching up to his chest. He feels slightly lightheaded, but lightweight in the rest of his body too, so you sit there silently on the other end before picking up him saying, “Shit, I needed that. Come see me? We’ll talk, I swear.”
You hate your voice for losing all its volume, “I don’t believe you.”
“If it’s in person, you get to slap me if I make you mad.”
And at first thought, this is appealing. But then you think about it, and how it pairs with your masochist boyfriend. “Fine. But I’m not going to hit you.” You raise from the bed onto your feet.
“Well don’t take out the fun part, princess.”
©️hxltic
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baby it's cold outside - chris sturniolo
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summary: you are forced to share the air mattress with your long time enemy, chris, on a camping trip.
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"Since you two wanted to argue the whole way up, you guys get to share a tent together. Yay!!", Matt says while jumping up and down in fake excitement.
On the way to the camp site, Chris and I did argue a lot. But in my defense, the idiot kept pushing my buttons! He kept turning my least favorite songs on and blasting them at full volume so I couldn't sleep. When we stopped at 7/11 he grabbed the last of my favorite drink and gulped it down in front of me. When we finally arrived, he dumped all my heavy bags on the ground and laughed at me struggling to pick them up. It was like he was asking to get yelled at, or like he wanted me to be mad at him.
"No, Matt please!" I grab onto his arm desperately. "I'm sorry but please don't make me stay with him!"
Matt rolls his eyes at me and folds his arms over his chest. "Would you rather sleep outside then?" I scoff and shoot a glare towards Chris who isn't standing too far behind Matt. "Yeah, sounds about right."
"Sleep outside then. That's fine by me, princess." Chris sneers responding to my comment while turning his back on me to set up his tent. I take three deep breathes and close my eyes. I am not going to let this idiot keep getting under my skin. I stomp away from Matt and Chris over to the log Nick was sitting on and he laughs at me.
"Well hello, Mrs. Grumpy"
"Oh shut up" you sigh.
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I plop my bag down on the floor, my chest heaving from hauling ass. I had to carry my heavy bags all the way from where Chris dropped them earlier today to the tent. He was laying all comfortable in his set up of blankets and the sight alone pissed me off.
"Thought you were sleeping outside tonight. Is it because you're scared of the animals, princess?" he sneers out the nickname like I'm more of an ogre than a princess. Why is he always so fucking annoying.
"Leave me alone, and I leave you alone. I'm going to bed. I'm tired and I'm not here for the bullshit." I say as I reach into my bag for my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag. Holy shit.
"Shit, shit, shit" you dump out your bag and see no sleeping bag in sight. Its cold out and the thought of sleeping without any covering made a shiver crawl down your spine.
"What is it now??" Chris sits up and turns the flashlight on in an exasperated manner. You sigh deeply. "It's nothing, go to bed Chris." He shrugs and lies down again, turning his back to me. I didn't need to give him another reason to tease me tonight. I flop on the ground on the opposite side of the tent from him and curl up into a ball. I can feel myself shivering but I try to ignore it.
Thinking back on when I first met the triplets in 3rd grade, I remember how cute I thought Chris was. I met Nick and Matt on the bus ride home from school one day when Chris was sick. The next day, me, Matt, and Nick were playing tag at recess when Chris walked out with a doctors note in hand. He walked over to his brothers and my heart skipped a beat. Immediately, Nick and Matt went to introduce me. "Chris! This is-" before Nick could even finish his sentence, Chris was already talking. "Well, isn't she a looker" he chuckles sarcastically while looking down at me, clearly judging me. I also looked down at my two loose braids and hand me down clothes and sigh. "Am I really that ugly" I thought to myself. I knew I probably shouldn't have let a boy that I hardly knew opinion get to me, but the tears came nonetheless." I wanted him to like me" you thought to yourself, wallowing in self pity. I was cut out of my trance when Chris started to laugh sporadically. "What? What is it?" I mutter looking at Chris and then too Matt and Nick who look embarrassed by their brothers rude antics. "Nothing, nothing. Its just... You're even uglier when you cry!" he starts laughing even harder. I felt myself start to shake from embarrassment and anger. Who did he think he was. "Your mean!" I stomped my foot which only made him laugh harder. I couldn't take anymore harassment in one day, and turned on my heel and ran away with Nick and Matt right on my heels.
After all these years he still hasn't changed. "Y/N, HELLO!!" Chris yells bringing me back to the present. "What?".
"Where the fuck is your sleeping bag?" he asks. I sit up from where I was laying to face him. He was now laying down with his body faced in my direction.
"Oh my God, clearly not here or I'd be using it, dumbass." I roll my eyes and go to lay back down.
"Lose the attitude and come stay in the bed with me" he mutters before I can return to my balled up position. My mouth flys open. Since when did he care if I was cold or not. "Wait, what?" I say in shock.
"Get the fuck up and come here. Nick and Matt will punch me in the throat if you catch a cold." he says nonchalantly as if it's normal for people that hate each other to share a bed. I roll my eyes again. I'm not sharing a bed with an asshole, even if it causes me to freeze to death. "No thanks" I scoff, preparing to lay back down again.
He sighs exasperated and moves from his comfortable position in his blankets. He stands up and starts walking towards me. I feel my throat start to tense up. "What are you doing?" fear creeping into my tone. Once he reaches me, he grips underneath my thighs with one hand and tries to support my back with the other. Desperately, I try to wiggle out of his grasp but too no avail. I am in his arms in no time. It takes everything in me to not sink into his warm chest. I didn't realize how cold I was until this exact moment. Suddenly I start to panic again when he starts to walk because I have no idea where he's taking me. Then I think of the worst. "Are you seriously gonna throw me out the tent. Come on Chris, do you really hate me that much??"
He stops moving entirely and he looks down at me. God the way he looks looking down at me is enough to be in any girls dream. Too bad he's just a big dickhead. "You weren't listening to me. So now I'm forcing you to stay with me on the air mattress." he pauses before continuing, almost like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say next. He sighs and continues on, "You were shivering really bad while you were in La La land. I didn't want you too freeze anymore." He had a glimmer of concern in eyes when he said it and that's all it takes for me to believe him. I hate the way my cheeks warm up from the honest confession. It meant he cared, and it shouldn't matter to me but it does.
He starts to walk again, seeing I had no response and plops me down on the mattress. He flops down right beside me, and even though it's warmer with the blankets, it's not enough. Another shiver racks through me. "Y/n??" Chris doesn't even try to hide the concern in his voice. "Do you need me closer? Will that help?" he looks at me waiting for my call. The thought of Chris getting close to me is enough to make my head spin. And as much as I wish being in Chris' arms would repeal me, it doesn't. Instead I feel my heart skip a beat like they did all those years ago. Get it together Y/n.
"Yes" I whisper. Chris doesn't need to be told twice and he pulls me impossibly close to his body. He grabs my thigh and puts it around his waist and then pulls my head into his chest. All I can sense is him. Instead of it annoying me, I lean into his scent and his warmth. In my heart I know that even if it was the hottest night of all time, I'd still enjoy being wrapped in him like this. And I hated myself for it. I melt into his arms and feel myself getting lulled to sleep. Just as I'm about to fall asleep I feel his lips graze my hair. " I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry". And with those words, I fall asleep in his arms.
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Send in request, I could always use some more inspo
Love, Mya
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bellatrixscurls · 1 month
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Dustin with a… hammer? | an Eddie Munson Series
pairing : henderson!reader x eddie munson. summary : eddie is your longtime crush. so what happens when you get him all alone, one wednesday afternoon? warnings : eventual smut, friends to lovers, dustin freaking out, kissing, pet names. a/n : this will be a series. please lmk if you like it!
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You heard a loud bang, and seconds later your door was slammed open, revealing an unkempt Dustin with a… hammer? in his hands.
“Y/n/n! You have to help me!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, yet you remained unimpressed and it was driving him nuts. “Get up!”
You squinted at him, eyeing the hammer in his hand. And then his face again. “What are you doing with that, you wombat? Put that down” you rolled your eyes and looked back down at your book.
Yet you could hear his breathing, well, it wasn’t something unusual. But he was getting agitated and you could feel it in the air. “It’s Eddie” spluttered Dustin, and your ears immediately perked up. “W-Well, actually it’s Vecna. But I am way more concerned about Eddie.”
“What’s up with Eddie?” You asked, looking back at him as you walked down the stairs, your brother following right behind. Your book was already long forgotten, and any plans you had had before Dustin mentioned Eddie.
You liked the boy. He was sweet, pretty, and he always gave you free weed, blushing like crazy when you kissed his cheek as a thank you.
“I am supposed to meet him here in a few minutes, but Steve called and said that he needs me because Vecna is back and he wants Max and obviously-” he rushed out, but when you gave him a weird look he paused, clutching at his chest. “I need you to distract him until I get back from Steve’s.”
Your eyes were shining. And if Dustin saw, he didn’t say anything. He accepted the urgent nod you gave him, and left, but not before hugging you and yelling “He should be here soon.”
This should be good.
You made sure to do it all. You took a shower first, using your favourite sprays and creams. You put on perfume, cleaned the living room, put on cute clothes. Well, not too cute, you didn’t want him to realise what you were doing. At least not at first.
It was perfect. You had waited for some alone time with Eddie since forever, and Dustin gave it to you on a silver plate, albeit unknowingly.
You jumped a bit at the knock on your door, adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Henderson, you better be ready! I even came a few minutes late so you could-… Oh, hello. You don’t look like you’re into D&D” he smiled that charming smile of his, and you took a moment to admire him. He was wearing a black shirt, black jeans and black boots. His usual clothes, but now he seemed to look even better in them.
You smiled back, opening the door so he could come inside. “I could be” you mumbled and he heard it. Of course he did. His eyes met yours, a mischievous glint in them as he kept eye contact, making his way into your living room.
“So” Eddie rubbed his hands together, falling back down on the comfortable couch. “Where’s Dusty Bun?”
You laughed out loud, sitting down next to Eddie, keeping a fair distance at first. “I see you met mother” he hummed and looked at you expectantly, to which you responded with a shrug and a small “What?”
You tried your best puppy eyes on him, hands toying with the hem of your bycicle shorts. Eddie bit back a smirk, shaking his head “He isn’t here, is he? Little fucker.”
“Actually, he told me to take care of you!” You rushed out when you noticed Eddie beginning to get up, and he looked back at you, wide-eyed. “No! I mean, he told me to stay with you until he gets back.”
Eddie exhaled loudly, ring clad fingers covering his face. “He said what?”
You were taken aback. Was he annoyed?
“Yeah, I’m sorry” you mumbled, mood already ruined. You didn’t know what to do, so you just kept fiddling with your fingers.
Eddie raised his head, looking at you through the space between his fingers. He fucked up big time. His eyes softened and one of his hands found your thigh, squeezing gently. “No, sweetheart. I just- God, he’s cancelled on me too many times now. The campaign is in two days, for fuck’s sake.”
You hummed, hand covering his, still on your thigh. His eyes met yours and he was looking at you carefully, feeling his whole body tense at your touch. “I could try to help you. I mean, I know a few things about D&D. Dustin won’t stop talking about it.”
Eddie’s heart swelled in his chest at your offer. If there was anything he liked more than a pretty girl, was one who actually showed interest in the things he liked. Especially D&D.
“Buckle up, dollface.”
“God, Eddie” you sighed, finally finishing your 3 hour session of helping Eddie with his campaign. He was really passionate about it, and you loved hearing him talk, occasionally asking you for your opinion, which made you feel included and content. “This is harder than it looks. Now I understand why Dustin freaks out so much about every game.”
Eddie chuckles, running a hand through his curly hair and messing it up a little more. “What can I say, sweetheart? It’s not for the weak.”
“What are you implying, Munson?” You snort, swatting his shoulder as he laughed even louder.
Even his laugh was something to die for.
Eddie tipped his head back, leaning on the couch. “I’m joking, Y/n. You have helped me a lot, Henderson must thank you for not getting in trouble with me.”
He put on a serious face, big eyes looking at you as seriously as he could. But it didn’t last long as you both burst out laughing. He was so unserious.
“I’m joking, obviously” he rolled his eyes, still laughing a little bit. “I have some weed in my bag by the way… That’s not a joke” he grabbed his bag from the floor, searching through it.
You put your hand over his, stopping him. “I have some in my room. Come” you took a hold of his hand, dragging him up the stairs and straight to your room.
You left Eddie to sit on your bed as you searched through your makeup drawer, taking a big amount of weed from there.
Eddie’s eyes widened when he saw how much it was in there. “Woah, I don’t have that much weed at home… Where did you- how do you have that?”
Looking down at the floor timidly, you responded. “S all the weed you have ever given me.”
His eyebrows shot up, a confused look on his face. He understood, I mean, he saw the weed, but he didn’t understand… the other parts. “Why did you keep all of that? Sweetheart, that’s gold. How come you have never tried that?”
Sighing, you sat on the bed as well, legs crossed. “I don’t exactly smoke, Eddie” you explain to him, hoping that his questions would stop there. They didn’t.
“Well, what the hell do you use weed for? Wait- you snort it? That’s so fucking cool-”
“Eddie, I don’t know how to!” You raised your voice, and his words are cut short, a flabbergasted look all over his face. “Anytime you’d offered me weed, I couldn’t just say no to you. I wanted you to think I am cool.”
He said nothing and you felt even worse now. You’d just, albeit indirectly, admitted you had something for the boy, and he had no reaction. “I just wanted us to have things in common and-”
Warm. He smashed his lips against your own, and they were so soft and warm. He couldn’t hold back anymore as his once gentle hands found your hips, gripping them and bringing you to sit on his lap.
When Eddie pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, your hands still holding his face between them. You took your turn to look at him confusedly, breath uneven. “Your lips are soft” you blabbered and Eddie chuckled, kissing your nose.
You were staring unseeing into Eddie’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but bring you even closer to him, face against your neck. “You are so perfect. Fuck- I love kissing you.”
His lips were a sin against the sensitive skin on your neck. So skilled and full, you just had to grip the back of his neck, head tipped back in pleasure.
“You can do more” you whimper, pleased when you felt Eddie’s bulge against your clothed cunt, closing your eyes tightly at the sinful feeling.
Heavy silence enveloped them as Eddie stilled, because, well… he had two options. Possibly screw his friendship with Dustin or… not.
Oh no. Eddie began to panic.
“I can’t” he pulled back, shaking his head as if he was having a whole ass discussion in his mind. And boy, was he. “I can’t, Y/n. This is not right, that’s not how this is supposed to happen.”
He got up, brushing down his clothes with his hands. You had no words as you stared up at him, shivers ran down your spine when you realised that he was practically running down the stairs and you were left alone. He didn’t care, of course he didn’t. You had tried everything to make him like you, but it still wasn’t enough for him.
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