#My little jackass is trying so hard to do good even though it's not his expertise | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kpop---scenarios · 1 month

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Cravings (1)

Pairing: Vampire! Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Warning: Violence, Language, etc

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: This is a revised and edited version of the Cravings series with Hongjoong. I hope you enjoy!

"Babe, hey babe." Your boyfriend, Chad, calls out to you, as you're sitting at the kitchen table, looking over bills again and again, running the numbers, hoping to god that you'll come up with a different number the next time. A number that doesn't make you want to rip your hair out and claw the face of your useless boyfriend.

“Hey, woman.” He yells a little louder, as your head is in your hands, squeezing your eyes shut trying to think of a payment you can skip this month because at this rate, you don't know how the fuck you're going to try to pay everything.

You worked too damn hard all day, to have barely anything to show for it.

Ever since Chad had moved in a few months ago, without an invitation, you were stressed. It wasn't like you weren't stressed before, but it was easier to control your finances then. But now, the price of everything has gone up and now your bills have doubled since he decided to stay. He also has not contributed anything financially towards the household, and it's not like you haven't asked him too. You spent months since he's been living with you, begging and pleading for him to help you pay for something, anything. And he always told you,

“On my next check, babe.” but that never came, and you went back to begging.

You paid for rent, utilities, groceries and you even paid when the two of you went out for dinner.

Chad worked full time, but where his money was going, you had no fucking idea. He was constantly going out with his 'boys', often coming home absolutely obliterated, and expecting you fuck him as soon as he got in the door. He told you that it was your duty as his girlfriend. It was almost as though he was offended you weren't attracted to his lack of contributing, while also acting like a man child.

Not to mention the countless hours he spent on your gaming console. When he got home from work, he went straight for it, and spent his time yelling and talking to his friends, while leaving you no time to play any games that you like. Well, that is, unless you wanted to wake up a few hours before you had to work to get on it, but by the time you got home from work, cleaned up the messes he made throughout the day when he got off early, or just called in sick to work, made yourself dinner, showered and got into your PJ'S, you were too damn tired to do anything. You knew you had to wake up the next day and do it all over again, so by the time you actually went to bed, you were already exhausted for the next day.

A part of you started to wonder why you were even in this relationship with him. Maybe you were scared to be alone, you weren't sure. But you felt like you were stuck with him, because for some reason, you thought you loved the guy.

"What do you want, Chad?" You sigh, walking into the living room where he's sprawled out on the couch, headset on and his match paused. "I'm trying to figure out bills, the stuff that I have to pay to keep a roof over our heads, power to play your fucking games, food in the fridge. You know, the shit you said you'd help pay for and I haven't seen a dime?”

"Yeah, that's great babe, good job.” He says, unpausing his game, glancing between you and the screen. “Can you go to the corner store and get those Takis, you know the ones I like? The not so spicy ones though babe, cause remember I have acid reflux, and a diet coke." He says, giving you a half smile, before calling his friend a jackass.

You swore you could feel the rage building up inside of you even more, and it was coming up quick. You could barely hold it in anymore. How uncaring could one person be?

"Are you going to pay for said snacks?" You ask, trying to keep your voice calm, emphasizing on the word pay.

"What?" He cackles. "Babe, no, come on. I'm broke. I don't get paid again for two weeks. You know this."

"You just got paid the other day." You say through gritted teeth. "Where the hell did all your money go?" You ask, your hands balled into fists, your voice becoming increasingly louder.

"You know babe, I had the fantasy football league entry, plus I owed Kyle money for the keg bomber last weekend, and I took the boys out for supper yesterday. Shit adds up." He says, never looking at you, only focusing on the game. You could hear it in his voice, he was beginning to get mad at you. At you!

"That sounds like a fucking you problem! Why is it always on me to pay for everything? It's not my problem because you're not financially stable, Chad. Grow up, you're fucking 35 for christ sakes!" You scream.

You can't even look at him right now. You turn around, stomping to the kitchen. You grab your purse and slip on your shoes before heading back into the living room. Before you're in his view you hear him talking to his friends through the headset.

"Yeah.” he chuckles. She went and got her shoes on and grabbed her purse." He continues. "She's definitely going to get my stuff."

"You know what Chad?” You say, mocking his name. “I'm definitely not going to get your snacks, you can get your own fucking snacks, Chaaad. I'm going out, with my goddamn money. So you can pack your shit and get out." You spit, heading for the door so you can storm out of the house. “Fuck you.” you finish, giving him the middle finger and slamming the door behind you.

You wandered down the street, a light rain falling down from the sky. You always loved the smell of rain, and the look of it. Everything was so beautiful at night, especially in the rain. You took a random turn, wanting to get lost in the city, like you had been for the last thirty five minutes. continuing to walk, you finally found the place you were looking for, but also weren't. You didn't have a specific place in mind that you'd wanted to go to, but when you saw this one you wanted, no needed to go inside.

Pushing open the door, the lights so dim that the place is almost dark. Had it not been for the red lights hanging above the tables, or the string of red lights that wrapped around the ceiling, you wouldn't have been able to see anything. Your eyes dart around the room as you walk further in, taking in the people and the room. A soft beat vibrates through the building, the smooth melody flows through your ears. Your stomach twisted as you made your way to the bar, you felt as though all eyes were on you. It felt dark and eerie, but you welcomed it, you preferred it instead of being around Chad's shitty mentality.

You slid onto one of the empty bar stools and set your purse in your lap, opening it up. You were digging through your purse when you heard someone clearing their throat in front of you. It startled you, you looked up to see quite possibly the most beautiful man you have ever seen in your entire life.

"What can I get for you?" He asks, his voice is deep, yet so smooth and calming.

It takes you a moment to answer. "Um, double vodka and cran please.” You say, clearing your throat. “And for the love of god, please keep them coming." You beg.

The slightest smile appears on his lips, as he makes your drink, and it disappears even quicker as he finishes it up.

"Bad day?" He asks, sliding your drink towards you. He smartly begins making you another, as you chug your first down in 2 large gulps. You slide the glass back towards him and laugh.

"More like a bad relationship." You groan. He nods his head as he slides your second drink towards you.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asks, leaning on the bar with his chin resting on his hands.

“Bartenders are great listeners.” He says, as he waits for you to speak. You gaze into his eyes, they are mesmerizing, they make you feel safe and secure, and like you could tell him anything. You felt like you'd known him for longer than the few minutes you'd been there.

"What's your name?" You ask, you're unable to tear your eyes away from his.

"Baekhyun." He replies. "And yours?" He asks.

"Y/N." You whisper.

"Alright Y/N, what's so bad about this relationship of yours?" He asks, sliding your third drink towards you before taking the empty cup of your second.

"My boyfriend.” You begin. “If he is even my boyfriend anymore, I may have told him to get out as I stormed out tonight.” You giggle, taking a sip of your drink. “We've been together for just over a year, and well.. he's something else, and not the good something else like people usually say. He moved in with me, without even asking if I wanted to, and I just kind of accepted it.” You sigh. “He doesn't pay anything, no bills, rent, groceries, nothing. It's all on me, even though he does work full time. He forgot my birthday, went out and got absolutely plastered with his 'boys'. He's always out with them. Oh! On Valentine's Day, he took me out for dinner, and can you guess who was there?" You ask, giving Baekhyun a smile. “I bet you can't guess.”

"His boys?" He asks.

"You sir, are correct!” You yell. “ I was ignored the entire evening.” You begin to explain. “Oh wait, except when we got there and he asked if I even did anything to my hair.” You say, trying not to laugh but you fail. “and then he and his boys left, I ended up paying the bill, for everyone! And, the kicker, I had to uber home because he had driven us there. Not to mention the fact that he assumes I'm just there for his pleasure, he just expects me to be spread eagle for him whenever he decides to show up." You finish, chugging your drink as you try not to gag on the strong taste of vodka.

"Why are you with him then?” Baekhyun asks you. “He doesn't sound like he contributes to the relationship at all, or makes you happy, so why do you stay?" He wonders. It's not the first time you have been asked that.

'Honestly, I'm not entirely sure." You answer as he slides another drink in front of you.

"Now that's a bullshit excuse." He replies. "There's a reason that you don't want to admit."

"Do you ever smile?" You ask him, changing the topic. “Like a full cheese smile?”

"No." He deadpans. "Now, why won't you leave him?"

"Because it's safe, I guess? I don't know. It's been like a year, and I've sort of just gone through the motions of the year.” You shrug, sipping more of your drink. You're feeling it now and you're going to get a lot more open. “I just dont think I can do any better than him."

"Y/N, you have no idea how much better you could do." He says.

“I've seen the dating pool out there, Baekhyun. Last I checked, good ol’ Chad is my best option.” You laugh.

He doesn't. He continues to stare at you until your smile fades from your face, your eyes still connected with his. You feel like you can't breathe, all this electricity is flowing through your body.

From the second Baekhyun had a whiff of the scent that was coming into his bar, he knew that it was the scent of the one. His mate. He intensely watched the door, his jaw clenching as he waited for you to walk through the door.

As soon as he saw you, it was almost as though his heart could have started beating once again. The ice cold blood that ran through his veins could have turned warm just at the sight of you.

You were beautiful, a vision.

He had always been told that when he found his mate he would know. He was never sure if it was true or if it was an old tale but having been alive for over a century, he had thought it was false, he had never felt this with any other woman he had been with or around. And now he knew why, because all his life he had been waiting for you. You were the person that he would do anything for, the person that he would be anything for. He would fight until the death, walk to the ends of the earth for you.

And he didn't know what to do.

You had finally walked into his life, and for once he felt an ounce of hope, that maybe he wasn't meant to live for eternity alone. That was, until, you had mentioned that filthy, worthless human you called a boyfriend. How could you stay with someone who treated you like absolute garbage? Didn't you know how special you were?

Baekhyun’s body filled with rage when he heard you had thought that nobody better was out there, that no one could love you the way you were meant to be loved.

You were dead fucking wrong.

Your one, he was standing right in front of you, and though you had just met him, he loved you fiercely, with everything he had. And would do anything to protect you.

Anything.

"I appreciate your advice.” You sigh, finishing your drink. You look at your watch, surprisingly it reads 12:45am. ”It's getting late and I have to work tomorrow." You groan. "How much do I owe you?" You ask, grabbing your card from your wallet.

"It's on me." He tells you, grabbing your empty glass.

“No, no.” You semi slur. “I drank, like a lot. Let me pay or tip your fine ass.” You giggle. Drunk you didn't give a fuck.

Baekhyun looks at you, a smile almost crossing his lips. “Next time, drinks are on you.” He says.

"Well thank you." You smile. "It was nice meeting you." You tell him as you slide off the stool, one foot buckling under your weight. “whoops.” You begin to laugh as you stand up, the entire bar is spinning around you.

"You okay?" He asks, watching you stumble away.

“I'm good. I'm good.” You slur, making it outside. The cool air sobered you up a little bit, well enough for you to hail a cab to get a ride back home.

That night when you got home, you couldn't get Baekhyun off your mind, a smile spread across your face as you walked through your front door, and headed into the living room, then it instantly dropped. Chad had not moved from the spot you had previously left him in, hours ago.

"Oh, babe." He says, sucking the Taki dust from his fingers. "Kyle brought me some snacks, since you threw a huge temper tantrum about my snacks, you can just venmo or cash app him, k?" He says, going back to playing his game.

You didn't have the energy tonight to ask him why he was still here. You just wanted to go to bed. You changed into your PJ’s, brushed the smell of liquor from your mouth and flopped into your bed.

That night you dreamt of one man, who was not your man.

The next morning you woke up early and severely hungover. You quickly called your boss, explaining that you must have caught the flu in the night and that you would not be in. Luckily you had a few paid sick days left to use up so you wouldn't be missing out on any money.

As you crawled out of bed, you noticed that Chad's side was still made and cold to the touch, like no one had slept in there all night. You weren't mad about it but you knew that it meant he gamed all night and wouldn't be going to work today. You groaned loudly in frustration thinking of having to spend the day with the guy who wouldn't let you break up with him.

“Morning babe, can you grab me a coffee?” he asks, in his same spot, same clothes, same spots of Taki dust on his shirt that you left him in last night.

“Don't call me that. I believe I told you to get out last night.” You groan, shuffling towards the coffee pot that hadn't even been turned on. “Theres no fucking coffee even made!” You yell.

“Oh yeah, babe, can you make some coffee?” He asks.

Your rage boiled over. You felt like shit and you didn't want to deal with his shit. You stomped, loudly into the living room, barged right in front of his game and ripped the power cord out of the wall, dropping it to the ground.

“BABE!” Chad yells, standing up quickly. “What the hell!?”

“I don't know why you can't get it through your thick skull.” You yell. “Let me dumb it down for you and go slow.” You smile. “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Apartment.”

“Why are you being like this? You know I don't have anywhere to go.” He whimpers.

“Not my issue. Pack your clothes and go.” You say. You were so done. You really did deserve better.

“Can I atleast take the gaming console?” He asks, trying to give you puppy dog eyes.

“My console? Absolutely not. You leave what you came with. A garbage bag of clothes.” You walk to the kitchen, opening the cupboard under the sink. You grab a bag and walk it back to Chad and hand it to him. You watch him stuff his few pairs of shorts and pants, shirts and underwear into the bag, grabbing his phone and shoes before asking him for your key. He reluctantly gives it back to you, looking back at you with sad eyes while he takes tiny steps out the door. It takes all you have not to shove him, but you don't and once he's out you close the door and lock it.

You finally felt free.

You crawled back into bed, feeling like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and fell asleep peacefully, dreaming of Baekhyun once again.

You woke up later that afternoon, still feeling nauseous but better than before. You felt like you couldn't deal with that, or anything. Thankfully it was the weekend and you could take this time to decide what you wanted to do. Which was absolutely nothing.

You didn't see or speak to anyone all weekend. You kept holed up in your apartment watching movies, eating Ramen, ice cream and any other bad thing you could find in your kitchen. But once Monday rolled back around, you knew you had to get back to life. You went to work, only to be sent home a few hours early, at 4pm. You were happy and you wanted to go see Baekhyun but you felt like this was too early to be at the bar drinking.

You muddled around your apartment for a bit, deleting texts from Chad, asking you when he could come home and when you were going to stop whining about everything.

When you finally felt like it was an appropriate time to go to the bar, you got yourself semi together and headed out, happily. You walked in, and immediately felt a pair of eyes shift towards you. Your heart skipped. You turned your head towards the bar to see Baekhyun staring at you as he cleans a few glasses before putting them on the rack. He doesn't smile when he sees you, his face is hard but somehow looks softer than it did the other day.

“You're finally back. I was wondering if I'd see you again.” He says, grabbing a glass. “The same?”

“Yes please. And I am back. And I have news.” You grin.

“And what's that?” He wonders, sliding your drink towards you. He leans In closely, his eyes not weavering from yours. Your heart beats loudly, and fast. You wonder if he can hear it, if he knows how nervous and flustered he makes you.

“I, um.” You began. Before you can finish, your phone rings loudly. You roll your eyes at the caller ID, answering it quite annoyed.

“What?” You ask. Baekhyun can hear the sound of a crying man on the other end. “Please. Stop calling me” You snap, hanging up the call.

“Chad?” Baekhyun asks but he already knew. You nod your head as he slides another drink towards you.

“He left the other morning. The morning after I was here..” You announce between sips. “I made him leave. I'm so mad at him right now and I want to hate him but part of me feels guilty for being mean while he's upset.” You sigh. You wished you didn't feel like this. You just wished you had someone who could love you as hard as you loved them.

“I'm proud of you. I hope you're starting to see your worth.” Baekhyun says.

As he walks away to another customer, Chad texts you asking to talk. You reply back, telling him to meet you at your place at 8pm. You really didn't want to leave Baekhyun but you felt like you needed to calmly clear the air with Chad. You pull out two twenties and slide them onto the bar, giving Baekhyun a small wave. He gives you a wink that sends shivers down your spine as you turn to walk away.

You didn't want to go, and little did you know, he didn't want you to go either.

You really shouldn't have let Chad in to talk. You don't know how he does it but he convinced you to get back together with him. He lured you in with the promises of changing, being a better man, spending more time with you and more money on you while also spending less money on his friends and less time on the console. But how funny is it that mere seconds after you agree to a second chance, he's back gaming and you're going to bed all on your own.

Over the next few weeks, you had absolutely no desire to be at home. Chad had gone back to his old self so quickly, it gave you whiplash. He hadn't even attempted to change, and you found yourself craving to be near Baekhyun. So you headed to the bar, everyday after work for a drink, or two, or four.

In those weeks you and Baekhyun spent an ample amount of time getting to know each other, you were sure he knew you better than Chad ever did. You didn't want to see Chad, you didn't want to be near him and it was bad enough that he texted you throughout the day, sending you lists of things to buy from the grocery store, as if he wasn't able to do it himself. However, much to your surprise, he didn't question you when you never came home with his snacks, he didn't check in with you throughout the day or wonder where you were at night, and honestly it no longer bothered you. You didn't care but you couldn't end things again. Not yet.

You felt your feelings for Baekhyun deepen with every encounter the two of you had, every look, every conversation, every time you saw him it was like nothing you had ever felt with anyone. Your emotions were amplified around Baekhyun and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep them hidden.

"One more." You tell Baekhyun, as you set down your fourth glass.

You can tell he wants to smile, but he's too good at controlling his emotions. "You've had enough, I'm cutting you off." He tells you.

You pout, trying to give him your best puppy dog eyes, but absolutely got absolutely nothing from that man and it was frustrating as fuck.

"A bad storm is coming, you should probably get home." He tells you, drying off some glasses.

"I don't want to go home, he's there." You scoff, just thinking about Chad made you want to vomit. "I guess I could just get a motel room.” You mutter. “That place across the street looks okay." You slur, pointing over to the run down motel, that had flickering lights, and probably a rat and cockroach infestation.

"I dont fucking think so." Baekhyun replies. "You need to go home. I'll give you a ride." He says.

"Give me a minute." He walks from around the bar, towards the back of the building, and you can't help but to turn in your stool and watch him walk away, damn he looks good.

Within seconds he's back, grabbing your bag and scooping you up into his arms as he effortlessly carries you out the door.

"I can walk." You object.

"I know." He says, his face stone cold.

"You're very pale." You tell him, as if he didn't know.

"I know." He replies, unlocking the door to his car.

"And you're very cold." You say.

He sighs. "I know." He finishes as he slides you into the passenger seat of his car.

As soon as he started his car, the rain began pouring as thunder and lightning jolted the sky.

"You were right, there's a storm." You say, watching out your window.

"I know." He replies, this time it sounded different. You turned to look at him, hoping you'd catch him smiling but no such luck.

He pulls up to your apartment complex, quickly and effortlessly glides out of the driver's side of the car, making his way to your side before you can even get your hand on the handle. He walks to the elevator with you, steps onto the elevator with you. He stands beside you, his hand inches away from yours, you can feel the electricity between the two of you. The elevator lands on your floor, you step out and Baekhyun follows you to your door.

“You didn't need to walk me up.” You say, already sobering up.

“Just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” Baekhyun says, his face still stone cold. You can hear some music thumping through the door. You really hope it's not what you think it is. You unlock your door and open it to 10-15 people in your apartment. There's maybe 2 that you know, but the rest? You've got no clue.

“There she is!” Chad yells, walking towards you.

“Happy birthday, baby.” He slurs, wrapping his arm around you. A crowd of people gather around, yelling “Surprise!” To you. You smile at them awkwardly, what was happening?

“It's not my birthday.” You hiss, trying to Chad, trying to remove his arm from you. “I'm sorry everyone, I don't know what he told you but it's not my birthday.” You say.

They all turn to each other, whispering things. You look at Chad’s two best friends, Brad and Connor, who you've spoken to multiple times. They just shrug their shoulders.

“Fuck.” He yells in your face, his breath smells like whiskey. He moves away from you, pushing through the crowd to grab a bottle on the table. He takes a full swing, before stomping back towards you. “I'm trying to do something fucking nice for you and you always have to shit on it.” He yells.

“I'm sorry it's not my birthday, and you invited all your friends and none of mine or my family. This is a party for you, with a cover it's supposed to be for me. It's pathetic.” You spit, your face inches away from his. You turn to walk away but he grabs your arm.

“Where are you trying to go? Don't be fucking rude to your guests.” Chad snaps.

“Dude, It's not her birthday. It's fine, just let her go and we can have another shot.” Brad says, trying to descalate the situation. Chad shoves Brad away with his free hand, tightening his grip around your arm.

“Chad stop.” You shout as he pushes you against the wall. Baekhyun lurches forward but you put your free arm out to stop him. You didn't want Chad to get anymore angry.

“What's it gonna take? Huh? You want a kiss? Is that gonna make you less uptight?” He says, grabbing your shoulders and shoving you into the wall, again. This wasn't the first time he'd gotten handsy when drinking Whiskey, but this is the first time he'd ever been close to violent about it. He leans in close to your face, trying to press his lips to yours, sticking his tongue out, trying to slip it into your mouth. You turn your head, trying to avoid him.

“Get off.” You cry out, trying to push him off with one hand, but he manages to pin the other one to the wall. You can't get him off you, your arm was throbbing and you were starting to panic.

“Baekhyun.” You cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Get the fuck off of her.” You hear Baekhyun's voice yell. “Are you hard of hearing?” He asks, swiftly pulling Chad from you and throwing him across the floor.

“Who the fuck is that?” Chad asks, scrambling to his feet and pointing to Baekhyun.

“I want you out Chad. I’m done. This was the last fucking straw!” You cry.

Baekhyun takes your hand and pulls you out of your apartment. He brings you to the elevator and back down to his car, trying to avoid getting you too wet. He buckles you in and pulls out of your parking lot. He drives past the bar and continues until the two of you are out of the city. The rain still pours. Thunder rumbles as lightning lights up the sky.

He continues driving, taking you out into the middle of nowhere.

Baekhyun pulls up to a gate, punching in a few numbers and it opens, he drives down a long driveway. You squinted as you tried to see where you were going but it was far too dark for you to see anything, until you pulled up to a beautiful mid-century mansion that made your mouth drop. It was absolutely stunning and you couldn't believe that he lived there.

"Seriously? This is where you live?" You say.

"My, uh, family, but yeah." He answers, parking the car near the entrance.

He glides out of his seat, walking towards your side again to open the door for you, pulling you inside before you get too wet. He pulls you up a large flight of stairs, not letting you admire the inside of his house. He opens the door to a large room, with a large bed and a bathroom ensuite.

"There's towels if you want to shower, I'll be back in a bit to check on you." He says, avoiding all eye contact before walking out of the room.

You let out a deep breath as you take off your heels, unbutton your pants and unhook your bra, placing it all next to the bed. You sit down on the bed in your underwear and t-shirt, wondering what to do, until your phone rings.

Looking at the caller ID, you didn't want to answer it, but you honestly felt scared if you didn't.

"Hello?" You answer.

"Hey babe, it's me.. it's Chad." He says.

"I know who it is." You sigh.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I.. I don't know what came over me. Seriously, Y/N. I just.. I'm so sorry.” He cries.

“I.. I can't. Don't. Don't call me.” You hyperventilate. “I can't.” You whimper, hanging up the phone.

You stand there, taking deep breaths as you try to fight off the tears. You replay the short conversation you just had, but more so what he did to you. You didn't even want to think about what would have happened had Baekhyun not been there for you tonight. You saw a side of Chad you'd bever seen before and were not interested in ever seeing again. You felt like you couldn't breathe. You sobbed as you sat on the bed.

There's a knock at the door but you don't hear it. The door opens, Baekhyun walks into the room, seeing you on the bed, all he felt was anger.

"Y/N.." He begins as lightning strikes, causing the power to flicker.

"Chad called.” You cry. “He was.. apologizing..but I couldn't stop.. replaying it.” You sniffle.

"I'm so sorry that happened. I should have taken you away the second he put his hands on you." He says, looking at you. You look up at him, tears still streaming down your face. A crack of thunder hits loudly, making you jump, and within seconds Baekhyun's arms are wrapped around you. He rubs your back as you nuzzle your head into his chest.

You're so tired.

Your eyes begin to close until his phone rings. He lays you down before he stands up answering the call.

“I'm sorry, Y/N. I have some things to take care of." He says.

"Oh, yeah, no problem." You say, getting under the covers.

“Are you going to be okay?” He asks before leaving.

“I'll be fine, go.” you say forcing a smile.

"Get some sleep." He tells you before walking out of the bedroom door, leaving you alone once again.

You tried to fight the exhaustion you felt, but it was far too hard. You tried watching the door, in hopes he would come back but your eyelids got too heavy for you to keep open, and you swiftly drifted off to sleep.

The warm sun was shining through the window, woke you up. You let out a little stretch before opening your eyes, only to see seven men standing around the bed. You sit up, moving closer to the wall, as these men stare at you. You stared at them all, as they all glared at you, looking similar to Baekhyun.

Pale skin, dark eyes, dark hair, blood red lips.

"Who are you?" One of them asks.

"Y/N." You whisper. “Who are you guys?”

Another one speaks up, looking at the other six men. "I think the better question is, who the fuck brought a human home?"

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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“Eddie,” Robin says, eyes wide in a way that means trouble. “Edward Munson, I sincerely hope your last will and testament is in order, because you are going to completely and totally die when I tell you who just got hired at Scoops Ahoy.”

Eddie groans. “Don’t tell me Tammy Thompson is giving up on her Nashville dreams.”

“No, I hate you, shut up forever, you’ll never guess.” Robin pauses, then in a dramatic whisper she’s definitely picked up from Eddie himself, says: “Steve Harrington.”

“Jesus. No shit?”

“Yeah, I have to train him. Oh my god it’s the worst. He’s so bad at, like, everything.”

She shoves at his shoulder until he moves out of the doorway of the trailer, and flings herself backwards onto his couch. “Like! Okay! I showed up to my shift thinking it would be a completely normal day in which I would be bored out of my skull distributing frozen dairy products to the flotsam and jetsam of Hawkins, and Ned’s like, hey Robin, you’re showing the new guy the ropes today. And then that freaking jackass has the freaking nerve to say—” Her voice drops a full register. “Uhh, nice to meet you, I’m Steve. Nice to meet you! God!”

Eddie cringes sympathetically, sucking air between his teeth. There’s a special kind of indignity to being so completely and utterly below the radar of Hawkins High royalty, even former bearers of the crown. It’s not as if Hawkins is a big town; Eddie’s pretty sure he could pick every single person in the graduating classes of ‘84 and ‘85 out of a crowd. He’ll probably be able to do it for ‘86 too, though he’s trying not to think about it too hard. So he’ll be a senior again (again) this fall, whatever. It’s fine. It’s whatever.

Once in a while, he wastes some time really, really wishing he’d gotten to know Robin earlier in the year. Maybe even last year. For undying friendship reasons, yeah, but also because with her in his corner, he might’ve actually passed enough of his classes to fucking graduate on his second fucking try.

But he’d only actually met her, like actually met her for real instead of passing her in the hall sometimes, when he’d let himself get suckered into rejoining band. It wasn’t like he could’ve brought his guitar in, but he let it slip to Miss Genovese that he could read music and keep time, and they needed someone to wallop the bass drum, and he figured a little experience fucking around with percussion might be the one thing he could salvage from the year. He’d just…been so goddamn tired of feeling stuck, spinning his wheels. Music was something he could actually handle; something he could actually get better at. Something he could master. He's man enough to admit he needed a win.

The actual songs were all stuffy Holst and Sousa numbers, but they’d had some fun technical bits he spent his evenings hammering out for a couple weeks. And then right around the point when he’d gotten good enough to get bored and think about quitting like last time, it had somehow wound up that shooting the shit with the gangly weirdo in the trumpet section was one of the best parts of his day. Unfortunately, by the time they’d gotten close enough for her to start bullying him about homework and shit, it had been way too late to save his chance at walking that ‘85 stage with assholes like Steve fucking Harrington.

Not that Harrington would’ve even noticed, apparently.

“Anyway, the one singular saving grace about the entire situation is that he looks even dumber in the sailor costume than I do, so at least that will make me feel better about my life until he gets fired for burning down the ice cream freezer or something like that. Eddie, I cannot stress this enough: he is so bad at this job.”

Eddie very tactfully does not bring up the litany of screw-ups that Robin’s admitted to over the last couple weeks since she started at Scoops; he just says, “Buckley, it sounds to me like you might be in need of some quality relaxation time this fine evening. I can offer you a nice cold beer, some herbal refreshment…or a fiendishly weird new song to learn with an intro riff that'll make you cry.”

Robin, inveterate nerd of his heart, sits up immediately and chirps, “New song, please!” just like he knew she would. She’s going to run off and elope with his acoustic one of these days, and he’s not even mad about it.

“Coming right up, m’lady,” says Eddie. “I promise this entire Harrington situation will be over before you know it, and neither of us will ever have to think about him again.”

(ETA: First chapter of this fic has been edited/expanded and posted on AO3)

#new fic time YET AGAIN yes I know I have other things on the boil #seasonal things even #but I have recently spent 36 hours without sleep in airports/airplanes bc the nation of britain is 0% equipped to handle subzero temps #I literally kept myself sane by rereading nice comments I'd saved on my phone so thanks for that y'all #and I just needed to work on a thing that wasn't an angsty mid-90s Steve POV set in chicago; this was next on the docket #I'm just out here vibing with my Eddie & Robin: Gay BFFs agenda #obviously this will be steddie eventually but it feels disingenuous to tag on this part #fyi this will not be fully compliant with Rebel Robin but there may be some details drawn from the book/podcast #fic: purify our misfit ways

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pleasedonteatmedemon · 7 months

Note

Jotaro part 4 yandere nsfw pls 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Sure, although for future reference please be more specific for what you're wanting.

ALSO sorry for the long wait!! I've been busy.

Constructive criticism is always appreciated!!

Cw: Very little manipulation involved, a kidnapped y/n, name calling,

" Good grief. I don't understand why you try so hard just to anger me. What good does it do to you? " Jotaro says, his single hand holding both of your wrists together. You look up at Jotaro with fear, he loomed over you, very tall compared to you. You had tried to escape through the window but had gotten caught while in the process.

You have been forced to be in this house for about four months; You originally came over to his house for a friendly dinner. Big mistake.

You couldn't bare looking into his eyes; They held such a cold look. Jotaro tilts his head, "Now now, not so bold anymore, huh?" He spoke. You bite your lip, hoping even if slightly-it would calm your nerves. You were oh so very fucked.

"Why would you even want to leave? I have plenty money, a nice house, and I know just as much as you do-" He stops, his face getting very close to your own; Too close for comfort. He moves his free hand and caresses your cheek. You close your eyes tightly, tensing up.

Jotaro chuckles lightly, "I'm a very attractive man...so why do you bother fighting back? I can give you everything you've ever wanted and more. But you're a smart girl, I'm sure you already know that." He says, finishing his sentence with a small chuckle.

You slowly look up at him, You couldn't help but feel scared at the moment. He wasn't wrong, you did find him very attractive but you were engaged to someone that you have a deep connection with, unlike Jotaro.

Jotaro sighs, his hand tracing your chin and then grabbing your jaw. You gasp. He looks into your eyes. "It's him..isn't it? What could he have that I don't?" Jotaro says. "Hm?" He adds, awaiting some sort of response.

Jotaro didn't seem too mad about the situation at hand anymore. He was pissed at first.

"Does he please you well? Make you feel good? Eh? Do you think that I can't?" He asks, you could smell the nicotine on his breath. "I-uh..." You choke out, your eyes widen at his boldness.

You actually had never had sex with your fiance. You were waiting for your wedding night. But you can forget about all that now.

"I'm right aren't I?" Jotaro says, a small smile presenting itself on his face. His voice stops your train of thought. You blink. "That's not- I-ugh..." You try to speak, you could feel yourself getting flustered. You huff in agitation and face away from Jotaro, his grasp on your jaw releasing.

"Just let me go, I don't understand why you like me so much! There are so many other chicks that would love to be forced to stay with you. let me go!" You whine, trying to break your wrists off Jotaro's grasp.

Jotaro lets out a small hum and watches your futile struggle. "Stop your whining, it's annoying." His grip on your wrists tightens, and you wince, then looking at him.

He looks up and then back at you "Why do I like you?" He says, then smiles, chuckling. "What's there not to like?" He says, tilting his head slightly, still smiling. "You're everything I've wanted, although, there is one thing..." He looks to the side, his smile fading. "You keep playing hard to get, it's so... agitating! Why can't you just love me?? " he looks back at you. He looked more annoyed than mad though.

'What a baby... I bet he's only upset because he's never been denied like this. God I wish I had his ego so I could tell him how selfish he is. He probably had everything handed to him since birth. '

This was probably the only time you heard him yell at you with actual meaning to it.

He grits his teeth before sighing. His eyes soften and he softly frowns. "Why can't you just love me? That jackass can't give you even a fraction of what I could. You're breaking my heart, you know that? I'm hurt. You're hurting me. You are such a selfish bitch." He states, his eyebrows furrowing.

You blink. 'What is this? Is this jackass seriously trying to make me feel bad?' You frown, looking away from him, slightly squinting your eyes in slight disgust. "I'm selfish..? You kidnapped me! You expect me to be okay staying in a house all day with a man I barely know claiming that he loves me?" You look back at Jotaro, your eyebrows furrowed.

Jotaro slightly widens his eyes at your small outburst. "Well-" You cut him off. " Jotaro, you may be attractive but that means absolutely nothing to me, you could give me all the money in the world and I wouldn't love you! You are not who I love Jotaro. I hate to break it to you but some people look beyond those things." You state, then biting your lip. You couldn't help but feel a little scared of how he might respond.

He gives you a wide toothy grin, then started laughing "Why-...Ha..." He takes a deep breath, his laughing stopped but is now replaced with a smile on his face. He uses his free hand to squish your face, you try to break his grasp by moving your head around but he manages to hold you still.

"That." Was all he said. "Wh-What?" You blink, feeling yourself start to burn up. Why was he laughing? Did you say something weird? "You don't care about those things, that's one of the many reasons I want you Y/n. I know you won't use me for money, and you won't want me solely for my looks. " He states, still smiling.

'Won't?'

"What?" You say, your eyes were wide. He lets go of you, your wrists, and your face. You hold your wrists, looking down at them, then back up at Jotaro who was still smiling. "You never answered my question." He says, closing his eyes and sighing, his face going back to a poker one.

"What does that short bitch have that I don't?" He says, raising an eyebrow. You blink. "I-uh well..." You swallow, you could feel yourself getting red again. 'Why do I have to think about this? Oh god, he's smiling again that cocky bastard!'

You face away from Jotaro and cross your arms. "Well, he doesn't guilt trip me! And...And uhm... " You bite your lip, you knew that dick was smiling at you, you didn't have to look. "I-I actually know him!" You say. "Neither of those are an actual answer sweetie. Also, when did I ever guilt trip you?" He says, chuckling. "Also, you do know me.." He says, you look over at him. You noticed him starting to take a step towards you, you quickly back away from him, but after a few steps your back is sadly met with the window that you were trying to escape out of.

You look behind you then back at him. "Get away from me! I don't uh...I don't wanna be near you right now!" You say, avoiding eye contact with the bastard and balling your fists. You squeeze your eyes shut. You could feel him getting closer to you. "Oh...There is also another thing that I don't really like about you... you have horrible taste in men. " He chuckles.

You lowly open your eyes, looking up at him. 'This is so embarrassing... I mean... I guess when I really think about it... my boyfriend is a little boring, there's not really much about him- no...I shouldn't think that way...' "Well, He doesn't try to force me to love him!" You let out, your voice slightly cracking. "Still not exactly an answer. " He says, he put his hand under your jaw, pushing up, causing you to look at him. You only frown in defeat, looking up at him.

That look on his face, his stupid smirk...why did you feel so flustered??

"Just accept it, you're mine now. You can forget all about that basic bastard." He says. 'Wait... is his face getting closer to yours or are you just tweaking?? No...is he... he would never!'

Your eyes widen, his lips meet yours, his hands pin against the wall on each side of you. You freeze, tensing up, not moving a muscle. 'Why..why can't I move? What...what is this feeling? I need to push him away- but...' You close your eyes, setting your hands on Jotaro's chest, gripping his black sweater.

'what if...I just...'

You feel his tongue slide against your lips, you open your mouth slightly. You feel his wet muscle enter your mouth. You let out a small squeak. You feel his tongue explore your mouth.

'Just...'

You start kissing him back, your tongues intertwining. You feel him chuckle into the kiss. You could taste the nicotine in his mouth. You can't believe you're actually letting him do this. You feel so hot. His hands find themselves on your waist, squeezing you slightly.

You let out a small squeak. You find your hands trailing his chest... 'He's so...muscled...' Then your hands go higher, finding themselves around Jotaro's neck. His tongue just feels so nice against yours, he's such a rough kisser.

'Why am I letting him do this? Why am I...oh god...it just...it feels so right...It's..it's making me feel...oh god I'm so horny.'

Your hands go up to his head, your hands grip his hair. It's probably been years since you've had sex. But you're not sure if that's exactly where you want things to go to right now. You could feel your eyes get slightly teary, you felt so flustered and nervous.

Jotaro's hands go lower, oh god he's grabbing your ass. His hands go lower; to your thighs. 'What is he doi-'

He breaks the kiss, a trail of saliva connecting your mouths. You feel him grabbing your thighs pushing you up. In one swift motion you find yourself in Jotaro's arms, your hands now around his neck. "Ah," You let out, looking down, then at Jotaro.

You both just look at each other for a moment, your expression very different from his. You blink. "I didn't know you liked me so much..." He says, smiling again. "I-...." You didn't know what to say, you look away from him, you couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. "You're so red Y/n." He says chuckling. "Do I make you nervous?"

'Why does he have to be so bold...'

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. He turns around, walking towards his bed. Conveniently you were in his bedroom. "W-wait wh-what are you-" You start but getting cut off. "Shhh, shut up." He says. For some reason you complied. He finally makes it to the white sheet-ed king sized bed, pushing you off of him and onto the mattress. You sit up, blinking at him.

This was just moving all too fast.

He gets on the bed, sitting on his knees in front of you, looking at you. He takes off his sweater and tossing it to the floor. 'Oh god he's even hotter without it- wait what the hell am I thinking I need to get out of here...But...I just kinda...don't...want to? What is wrong with me!'

Your heart was beating so fast. If you could get any more red and nervous you would, his toned abs and muscular form as well as his happy trail was almost too much for you. "I knew you'd finally come around princess..." He says only above a whisper. You slightly shook your head, your eyes wide as you watched him. He started crawling closer to you, you quickly closed your legs. "W-Wait, I-uh, Jotaro I don't really know if I-"

"Oh c'mon, you seriously don't want this?" He says raising his eyebrows, a hand landing on your knee. "It'll feel good I promise. You won't be leaving this room till your cum is all over my cock.." He says, his eyes narrowing at your form, looking you up and down. Your eyes widen at his choice of words, he's so vulgar sometimes.

You bite your lip, then looking away from Jotaro. You slowly open your legs. "That's my girl, now look at me, don't look away from me, I wanna see your face when I fuck you like the stupid little bitch you are. Oh, and don't even think I forgot about you trying to leave." He says, pointing a finger at you before getting in between your legs.

You look to the side then back at Jotaro. "S-Sorry..." You say in a whisper. You can't believe you're actually apologizing to him for that. He smiles, grabbing your tights, pulling them down. "Hm? What'd you say?" He says. 'That cocky bastard!' "N-Nothing...Never mind..."

He slides your pants all the way off, throwing them to the side. "God your panties are so soaked. You're that wet just from me kissing you, tsk, such a slut." He says as if he wasn't rock hard right now. You look to the side. "No no, keep your eyes on me, princess. Stop making me repeat myself." He says. You look back at him.

Your eyes widen once more, feeling his thumb on your pussy, rubbing your clothed clit. Your breath hitched. You then adjusted yourself, laying down. You start to wonder if your boyfriend would have been able to make you feel this good.

'No... it'd be much different...'

You were finally calming down, you didn't feel as embarrassed as you were before, and those feelings were replaced with new ones. You felt so vulnerable under Jotaro's touch, but.. it wasn't enough, you wanted more, you wanted him.

"J-Jotaro..." Oh god there it was again, you felt yourself get hot. "What?" His voice made you break out of the small trance you were in for a moment. "I- ah...I uhm, could you well, I...oh my god..." You wanted to tell him that you wanted him right now, but oh god were you in bliss.

"Hm?" That sound, his voice, was almost hypnotizing. You shook your head slightly, "Jotaro...Ah...Please, I-I want you..." You manage to say. His thumb stopped and he just looked at you for a moment before smiling. "You'll have to be a little more specific.." He says lightly chuckling. You furrow your eyebrows frowning but then sighing. You gulp.

"P-Please...uhm" You bite your lip, looking to the wall then back at him. "Could y-you... you... you really are a prick you know that? J-Just fuck me already.." You whine. Jotaro only chuckles in response. "Okay." He says.

You couldn't help but feel a little excited when you saw him start to undo his belt. You could see his bulge. Even though you haven't seen his cock yet, you could tell he was big from the size of the tent in his pants. Jotaro tosses his belt to the side, then focuses his attention on you.

He grabs a hold of your panties, pulling them off and tossing them to the side as well. He lets out a whistle. "God you're dripping." He says. He pulls his pants down, taking them off. He then pulls his cock out of his fly. Your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Calling Jotaro big would be an understatement. You swallow, watching as Jotaro slowly stroked himself. It seemed the carpet did match the drapes, you always thought his hair was dyed. Your eyes kept going back and fourth from his dick to face.

Jotaro takes off his boxers and set them aside. "Like what you see?"

You only looked at him with wide eyes.

His hands move to your body, caressing your clothed waist before moving upwards and squeezing your tits.

You were only wearing a tan top.

"No bra?" Jotaro says, his fingers circling your now hardened nipples.

He moves his hands down t the hem of your shirt. "Here, sit up for a sec."

You oblige.

He then lifts up your shirt, taking it off and tossing it away.

You go to lay back but you freeze for a sec, feeling his hands on your ass. "I want you on my lap." He states bluntly.

You blink. "O-Oh...Ok.." You say. Hesitantly moving yourself to his lap. You tried not to be squished against him but he pulled you in. Your hands moved to his chest. You could feel his dick against your pelvis. You only look up at Jotaro with wide eyes and a flushed face, he looked like he was in some sorta trance. His hands slide up and down your back, soothingly.

He closes his eyes and brings you in for a kiss; You reciprocate and your lips meet his. You squeeze your eyes tight shut. You wrap your arms around his neck. He was being much more passionate then before.

'His lips are so soft...'

You turn your head, deepening the kiss and sliding your tongue into Jotaro's mouth. Jotaro lets out a small groan, his tongue entangling with yours.

You were so wet. You were pretty sure you got your arousal fluid on his dick.

(You did, and he was loving it more than a kid at mcdonalds)

You feel him quickly jerk his hips up. You gasp through your nose, and your eyes open for a second. You continue kissing Jotaro, whining at him.

Jotaro breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connected your mouths.

You both look at each other with half lidded eyes.

"Lay down..." He says only above a whisper.

You oblige him and scoot off his lap, then laying down and spreading out your legs for him.

He then, in a swift motion, moves himself on top of you. His hands on either side of you. You gasped at the sudden action. He put his head on the crook of your neck, kissing and licking the area. You couldn't believe this was actually about to happen.

You feel him guide his tip to your entrance, sliding his dick across your slit.

"Look at you...I love you so much.." Jotaro mutters. You could only make some of what he had said out.

You felt him slowly ease into your entrance, going slow in hopes of not making you too uncomfortable.

Jotaro lets out a shaky breath, pushing himself fully inside you.

Neither of you had done anything that exhausting yet, but you were both panting like dogs.

He stayed there in that spot, heavily breathing against your neck and taking in this moment.

It was so quiet, but so loud at the same time.

You could hear his and your heartbeat.

You felt so warm and hot inside.

You shakily move your hands to around his neck, lightly petting the ends of his hair. You could feel him shiver against you.

Jotaro pulls his head back, just enough to look at you.

"You ready?"

You slowly nod letting out a "Mhm"

He pulls out, then quickly shoving himself back in. Your eyes widen and you let out a short gasp. You wrap your legs around him as he continued thrusting himself in and out of you at a rapid pace.

"J-Jotaro...I ah..J- hgnnnn..." You whine. His dick filled you so perfectly, it hit all the right spots. You couldn't help but arch your back, the way he hit your g-spot; it just felt to good.

Your eyes grow teary, you felt this buzz-y like feeling all over your body. You only look up at Jotaro. Even though everything was moving quickly you could still make out Jotaro's expression. His eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape. His eyes held such an infatuated look.

How embarrassing, you felt yourself already start to reach your limit. It really had been a long time huh?

You let let out short moans as Jotaro continued.

Just when you thought it wouldn't be possible, he started going even quicker.

His thrusts started to seem more desperate as he got quicker.

The only sounds that could be heard were both of your moans and groans, his balls slapping against you, and the creaking of the bed.

Was...was he also getting close?

You hoped so; you weren't sure how much more of this you could take before you'd burst.

"Y-Y/n-! I love you...!" He groaned out.

He puts his head in the crook of you neck, continuing his godly speed of fucking you.

You were twitching everywhere, you felt a very hot wave flow over you. Your eyes were getting teary. You could feel where your pelvis area tighten up. What is this feeling?

'Am I about to...!'

You twist your head away from Jotaro, Pushing down on Jotaro, pulling him in closer to you. "A-Ahh...I-... Jot-a...hgnnn ~ ..." You couldn't make out words. Your legs wrap around him even tighter. You felt your whole body tense up. Your whole body was tingling with pleasure.

You notice Jotaro had stopped, He was gripping the sheets, his dick still very much deep inside you. If you had to guess why, you'd say he had just came.

You finally come down from your high. Your legs drop and so do your hands.

He relaxes himself, laying down on you. Damn that motherfucker weighs a lot.

"J-Jotaro..?"

"Hm..?" He grunts.

"I can't breathe."

#fanfic #jotaroxreader #jotarokujoxreader #jjba #yandere jotaro x reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #yandere jotaro kujo #yandere jotaro kujo x reader #jojo's bizzare adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure fanfic #jjba fanfic

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Text

Piano Lesson

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: Just a fun, spicy idea that I couldn’t get out of my head! This story takes place not long after the events of A Surprise Gift.

Warnings: NSFW (18+) for explicit sexual content and brief language.

It really was supposed to be an innocent little piano lesson.

Bradley had suggested it over dinner. He’d been trying to teach you for weeks, ever since you’d surprised him with the used walnut piano from Facebook Marketplace that was now sitting proudly in the living room of your apartment. It always seemed, however, that whenever your husband tried to teach you the basics of piano playing, the two of you ended up getting distracted by more worthwhile pursuits.

Not only that, but you were rather hopeless where musical instruments were involved. You loved to sing, but that was the full extent of your melodic abilities. Truth be told, you were still a bit emotionally scarred from all the years of being forced to learn how to play the recorder in elementary school. To this day, the most you could squeak out was a rather painful rendition of Hot Cross Buns.

Still, Bradley was determined to teach you.

He’d been ravenous when he came home from work that evening, too hungry to jump in the shower as soon as he walked in, like he usually did. While he was scarfing down the mashed potatoes and pork chops you’d prepared, he glanced up and smiled when he caught you laughing behind your hand at the sight of his wolfish appetite.

“Sorry, honey,” he grinned sheepishly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his napkin and taking a deep sip of water. “Everything’s so good, and I’m starving.”

“Long day?” you asked, taking a delicate bite of your own pork chop.

“Tiring day is more like it,” Bradley told you, running a hand through his hair, which still appeared to be damp with sweat and stood up at a funny angle as his fingers glided through it. “Hangman, cocky jackass that he is, never seems to learn that it’s never a good idea to challenge Mav to anything that involves hard physical labor when you lose. He ended up getting all of us roped into it and, lo and behold, we spent the last hour of work today trying to do 200 burpees without passing out,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he dug into his dinner once more.

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, though you did try to school your features into a sympathetic smile as Bradley glanced up at you once more, eyes twinkling despite your amusement at his expense.

“I’m sorry, that does sound exhausting,” you murmured, reaching for your water glass. “I’m guessing you’ll just want to jump in the shower and fall into bed then,” you added, mildly disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to spend a few hours together before bedtime.

Bradley could easily detect the change in your tone, though you tried to mask it as much as possible. He shook his head immediately, gently bumping his knee against yours under the small kitchen table where you were sitting.

“No, no, I’m not that tired,” he insisted, chuckling softly as he glanced down at his damp T-shirt. “Though I definitely do need a shower.” He perked up suddenly, an idea coming to him. “What do you say to another piano lesson tonight, honey?”

You bit your lower lip, glancing out the kitchen doorway in the direction of the living room. “Are you sure you want to subject yourself to that again after such a long day? It’s ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ and I manage to make it sound like two cats strangling each other to death,” you grimaced, recalling your last attempt at playing the classic lullaby, supposedly one of the easiest songs to learn for novice piano players.

Bradley laughed at that, chucking you under the chin affectionately. “You absolutely do not. You’re going to get it, baby, I know it. I think it’s just your piano teacher’s fault for getting so distracted by how gorgeous his student is,” he teased, leaning over to press a peck to the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, fine. If you insist,” you replied, rolling your eyes good-naturedly and grinning over at him.

Bradley helped you clear the table and put the leftovers away after dinner, then hurried off to jump in the shower while you finished cleaning up and went to change into a pair of pajamas. You settled on one of your favorite oversized sleepshirts, the material feeling as soft as a cloud as it brushed against your skin.

While waiting for your husband, you sat down at the piano and lightly brushed your fingers against the keys, tentatively testing out a few of them. You knew the piano was perfectly in tune, because it always sounded great whenever Bradley played it, but somehow it seemed like you just didn’t have the magic touch. Frowning in concentration and annoyance, you didn’t even realize your husband had walked into the room until you heard him chuckling above you.

“You get the cutest little line in your forehead when you’re annoyed,” Bradley grinned, reaching out and brushing a gentle finger against your head. “Right here.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get this,” you sighed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face. Pouting slightly, you glanced up more fully and realized you hadn’t quite taken in your husband’s appearance. He had slipped into a pair of gray sweatpants that hung around his waist in a way that had all thoughts of the piano flying out of your head, and one of his worn but cozy UVA T-shirts. It never failed to take your breath away how good this man looked in absolutely anything.

“Quit staring. You’re making me blush,” Bradley joked, laughingly nudging you over on the piano bench and taking a seat beside you.

“I can’t help it. You look quite wonderful, maestro,” you teased affectionately, winking at him as he settled an arm around your waist.

Bradley tut-tutted with a shake of his head, wagging a playful finger at you. “No distracting me this time, Mrs. Bradshaw. I’m going to make sure you learn how to play ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ on this piano if it’s the last thing I do,” he said firmly.

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh, you nodded and focused your attention back on the piano keys in front of you. “Fine,” you huffed, feigning irritation even as a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “But I have to get comfortable.”

Smirking internally, you lifted yourself off the piano bench and quickly shifted to your husband’s lap, settling yourself on his muscular thighs and feeling his broad chest tickling your back through the fabric of your pajamas.

“Okay,” you told him, resting your hands on the black and white keys. “I’m ready.”

You bit back a smile as you heard your husband clearing his throat from behind you. He rested his hands over yours, his large, calloused fingers lightly kissing your smooth, soft skin. Leaning in closer, you could feel his breath tickling your cheek as he whispered against your ear, “Nice try, honey.”

“Worth a shot,” you giggled, beaming as Bradley pressed a warm, tender kiss to your shoulder.

With gentle hands, your husband attempted to guide you through some fairly simple chords, your fingers stroking the keys as he instructed. The sounds from the piano always sounded much more melodious and sweet when Bradley was orchestrating them.

“There you go, honey. See? You got it,” he murmured encouragingly, his lips grazing your shoulder once more as he continued to lead you. “Now you try,” he said, slowly letting go of your hands.

You fumbled through the next set of chords on your own, the sounds appearing much harsher now that Bradley had taken a step back. You let out a soft huff of frustration, brow furrowing in concentration as you attempted to press down on the correct keys.

Sensing your mounting frustration, Bradley leaned forward and ghosted a soft kiss against your jawline. “It’s okay, honey. You can do it.” He reached up and rested a strong hand against your waist, then seemed to freeze suddenly. “Honey…” he whispered, his other hand coming up to grip the other side of your waist. He seemed to be feeling for something, his fingers kneading against the material of your sleepshirt.

You grinned to yourself, knowing what he was feeling for—and what he wouldn’t find.

Slowly lowering one hand down to your thigh as you continued to press down on the wrong keys, your husband gently began to nudge your sleepshirt up your leg, slipping his fingers underneath the dark blue cotton and searching out what he hadn’t been able to feel through your clothes. When his hand came into contact with nothing but bare skin, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“I think I underestimated you, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he said softly, his calloused fingertips, roughed from years’ worth of physically pushing his body to the brink, grazing against the naked skin of your thigh in a way that had shivers running straight down your back.

“Hmm, I thought I was forgetting something when I was getting changed,” you smirked, having purposely not bothered with a pair of panties when you were slipping into something more comfortable.

From your vantage point atop his lap, you could feel your husband stirring with desire as he touched you softly, his breath warm and sweet against your cheek and the back of your neck.

“You are quite a difficult student, you know that?” Bradley chuckled in a hoarse voice, now running both hands over your thighs, pushing the material of your sleepshirt further and further up your legs with each movement.

“What do you mean? I’m still playing,” you grinned, your fingers continuing to bang on the piano keys, though you weren’t paying a single bit of attention to which chords you were hitting at this point.

“Mhm, sure,” Bradley murmured, his lips latching onto your neck as he slowly dipped one hand between your thighs, feeling the heat increasing as he dragged it closer and closer to your core. He let out a soft groan as he suddenly pulled your legs apart, resting them on the outsides of his thighs so that he could have easier access to you. “Honey,” he moaned against your ear, his mustache tickling your skin as his fingers danced across the delicate skin of your inner thighs, so close to where you needed him, and yet so far away.

You let out a soft, breathy moan in response, your pulse quickening in your veins, heat rising to your cheeks, and your core tightening in desperate need. “Baby,” you whispered, that single word filled with such pleading that Bradley knew he couldn’t tease you for another moment.

Closing the gap instantly, Bradley brought his fingers straight to your center, running them through your folds and gathering the wetness he found there, spreading it over you as he moved his hand at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“You stopped playing, honey,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it as two of his fingers began to slide inside you, your walls clenching tightly around him as he worked them gently against your sensitive skin.

Letting out a shaky breath, you lifted your trembling hands to the piano once more and fumbled weakly against the keys, widening your legs even further as Bradley brought one arm up to wrap around your waist, securing you against his chest.

“Oh, honey,” Bradley sighed sweetly, his fingers pumping into you faster as his thumb began brushing strategically against your clit. “My sweet baby,” he whispered lovingly, nudging your hair aside with his nose so that he could press tender kisses to the back of your neck. The gentleness of his kisses contrasted sharply with the vigorous movement of his fingers inside you.

As Bradley pressed down more firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves at your center, your entire body shook and you inadvertently pressed down hard on the piano keys, the dissonant crash echoing in the room and melding together with the harsh sounds of your uneven breathing, forming a symphony of unabashed desire and pleasure.

You were still feeling a bit sore and sensitive from the lovemaking you and your husband had enjoyed before he’d left for work that morning, so you felt yourself approaching the precipice of your climax much sooner than anticipated. “Baby…honey…Bradley!” you cried out, throwing your head back against his shoulder and panting as he continued to finger you without mercy.

“I know, baby, I know,” Bradley whispered, his lips pressed to your shoulder. He was holding the material of your sleepshirt up against your stomach with his free hand, so you could see the way his fingers were working in and out of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Come for me, honey. Please.”

That one word, murmured so pleadingly, was your undoing. Letting out a breathy cry, you felt your entire body tense up, your husband’s fingers squeezed tightly between your thighs for a moment as everything hung in suspended animation. And then, just as suddenly, everything relaxed and you felt your orgasm coming hard and fast, Bradley continuing to work you through it until you were a gasping, mewling mess, lying limp against his chest and trying to catch your breath.

“You’re so beautiful when you let go like that, baby,” Bradley praised you softly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as you panted quietly, clinging to the arm he still had wrapped around your waist.

“That was….so good, baby,” you let out in short spurts of breath, turning your head so that you could capture his lips with your own, kissing him deeply. Glancing down after breaking apart for air, you noticed the rather large wet spot staining his light gray sweatpants and blushed furiously despite yourself.

“Don’t be embarrassed, honey,” Bradley told you, bumping his nose against yours and smiling. “I love knowing how good I was able to make you feel.”

Squirming slightly against your husband’s lap, you could tell just how good he seemed to be feeling as well. His desire had grown exponentially while he was pleasuring you, and you could feel it straining against the confines of his sweatpants, swelling against your inner thigh.

“Baby,” you rasped softly, gazing into his dark eyes as you reached down and gently cupped him through his pants. You could feel him twitch underneath your hand as he gazed back at you.

“God, I need you,” Bradley groaned, holding the back of your head and bringing your lips crashing down onto his as he kissed you hungrily, groping desperately at your body through your pajamas. “Please, honey, please,” he begged, nearly incoherent with want.

“I’m right here, baby,” you told him, gasping softly against his lips as he nibbled at your neck. “I’m right here. Take me.”

Your words spurred your husband on, his roughened hands reaching unceremoniously for the hem of your sleepshirt and tugging it over your head, throwing it across the room carelessly. With a discordant scrape, he pushed the piano bench back just enough so that he could momentarily lift you up, letting you rest against the piano as he raised himself up just enough to tug his sweatpants down, his erection springing free as he hastily kicked them to the side and patted his lap, inviting you to rest back down against him.

“Baby,” Bradley moaned as you settled back down upon his lap, desperate to fill you up. “My beautiful baby,” he whispered adoringly, his stiff length twitching against you once more as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed hot kisses to your spine and the back of your shoulders. “I need you so badly.”

Knowing that your husband never wanted to act until he was sure you were ready, for fear of hurting you, you took the initiative to lift yourself up ever so slightly, reaching back to cradle him in your hand and guide him towards your entrance as you hovered above him.

“I’m ready, honey,” you assured him, your voice thick with a need that clearly matched his own.

Letting out a low, guttural groan that seemed to come from deep within his chest, Bradley gripped your waist with one hand and guided himself inside you with the other. What almost sounded like a sob tore from his throat as you sat back down on his lap, taking all of him within you in one smooth motion.

In this position, you felt incredibly full and stretched to the limits, a delicious feeling that had you curling your toes and gripping your husband’s arms roughly as he began moving against you, thrusting his hips upward as he sought to bury himself even deeper inside your tight walls.

“Oh, baby,” you whimpered, your head falling back as you rocked your body in tandem with his, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked you deep inside, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. “Yes, baby, just like that. Yes!” you gasped out, your pleasure becoming even more palpable as your husband pressed sloppy kisses to your jaw and neck, his mustache scraping your skin in a way that you knew was sure to leave the red, angry rashes that you loved so much.

Bradley rested his hand against your lower abdomen as he pumped into you in a rhythmic pattern, able to feel himself straining against your skin as he pressed hard against your cervix, which only seemed to excite him more. “You’re so beautiful, honey,” he rasped against your ear, burying his face in your neck as he took you from behind. “So fucking beautiful. I love you so damn much.”

“I love you, too,” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as the increasing pleasure became almost too much for your body, still hyper-sensitive from the orgasm you’d just experienced, to handle. “I’m close again, baby,” you told him, finding one of his hands and squeezing it tightly. “I need it…harder,” you groaned, your legs beginning to tremble slightly.

At your request, Bradley suddenly stood up from the piano bench, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist as he held you close to him. You let out a soft little gasp of excitement as he pressed you against the piano, your body hitting a few of the keys as he gripped your hips tightly in his hands and began to pound into you, the rhythm of your bodies becoming frenzied and intense as the both of you chased the high of making the other come undone.

You began to babble out your husband’s name unintelligibly, your mind swimming. You could focus on nothing else except the way he was making your body feel in that instant. Reaching down, you rested your hand over his, the coolness of his wedding band standing out sharply against the heat of your palm.

“I’m so close, honey. I’m so close. Almost there,” Bradley told you, bending forward and pressing more kisses to your spine as you rested your other hand on the top of the piano, grasping onto it like an anchor.

“Bradley!” you screamed out as you fell over the edge, spasming around him at the same time that he spilled himself deep inside you, crying out your name as he filled you up completely, some of his warm seed trickling down your thighs, even as he remained inside you.

The two of you stood there, locked together, your living room filled with the sounds of ragged breathing and the smell of sex.

After a few moments, Bradley lowered himself back down to the bench, pulling you with him and cuddling you in his arms. “My sweet honey,” he murmured tenderly, brushing a kiss against your sweaty forehead. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby. So, so much,” you breathed out tiredly, nuzzling your nose against his and pressing a soft peck to his lips.

“I swear, one of these days, you’re really going to learn how to play ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’” he laughed, gazing ruefully at the piano.

You laughed as well, dropping a kiss on his forehead. “Maybe one day. But for now, I’d really just love for you to take me to bed.”

#mr. & mrs. bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #mrs. bradshaw #rooster x wife!reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller

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giggly-squiggily · 4 months

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I need some Lee Jotaro in my life. He's so grumpy and needs to show his smile more often

As of writing this, I'm rewatching JJBA Part 3 and I just have a NEED for Polnareff and Kakyoin tickling the living daylights out of Jotaro- so here we are :D I hope you like it anon!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@gladdygirl18

“He’s quiet today.”

“He’s never been that talkative.”

“Yeah but he’s like, really quiet.

“You make a good point…”

Jotaro was quiet today. Not much for words, he at least made it a point to ask questions or give the old man some snark. Today though, he barely had the energy to do more than hum and nod; something that clearly threw off his hotel roommates.

“He’s not even glaring at us- wait, nevermind. He’s glaring now.”

“Oo, he looks mad! Think we’re the cause?”

“Of course we are- he’s looking straight at us- oh, he looked away.”

“Maybe it’s a Jostar thing-”

“Would you two shut the hell up?” He snapped, his patience thinning. “You’re annoying as hell!”

Kakyoin and Polareff seemed to be shocked by the sudden remark. Then they grinned, relieved almost. “He’s talking again!” The redhead cheered.

“Fantastique! Good for us!” The Frenchman agreed, performing his go- to handshake with the other. Jotaro sank further in his window seat, turning away with a low groan. It was times like this he wished he bunked with Avdol or the old man.

Of course, Grandpa Joseph never shut up, and Advol snored loudly. It was a lose lose either way.

“Oh, he’s mad again.” Kakyoin pointed out, shushing the pair as they stared at the Jostar before them. “Jojo, talk to us! What’s going on?”

“I told you already; you’re annoying.” He turned so his back was to them, leaning into the stiff cushions with a huff.

“I think not, monsieur. You were already like this when we got here.” Polnareff pointed out, getting up and walking over to the other. “Something on your mind?”

Jotaro responded by pulling his hat over his eyes, blocking the other out.

“Jotarooo~”

A one finger salute was what Polnareff got in return.

“Gah! My heart! You’ve wounded me!” Polnareff gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he was actually struck. Doing a little twirl, he flopped unceremoniously across the younger man, half trapping him with his weight. “I’m not going to make it! Tell my wife I love her!”

“Get the hell off me! You don’t even have a wife!” Jotaro growled, trying to shove the other off. In his position however, combined with Polnareff’s dead weight, it proved near impossible. “Go lay on Kakyoin if you need a warm body to cuddle, you bastard!”

“Pfft, such a potty mouth!” The older man laughed, quickly trading positions as he took a seat on Jotaro’s hips, pushing the other on his back and squeezing at his ribs. “Back home, our Mère would threaten to wash our mouths out with soap if we even dared to mutter such words! Fortunately for you, I hate the taste of soap and wouldn’t put anyone else through it.”

“Polnareff!” The brunette seemed to stiffen up and squirm at once, jerkily grabbing at the Frenchman’s wrists as he simultaneously tried wiggling away, his seemingly permanent frown twitching against his set jaw. “St-Stop that! A-Ass! Fu-fuck off!”

“Oo, he’s big mad now!” kakyoin, who had been watching from the sidelines in glee, quickly got to his feet and ran over, sliding in to get at the base of Jotaro’s neck. “Come on Jojo- cheer up! Don’t be so grumpy!”

Well great- now he had two idiots tickling him! Jotaro was already struggling with Polarneff’s insistent fingers against the base of his ribs, and now he had Kakyoin going for that awful spot along his birthmark. He refused to give in! Screw these jackasses-

“Gehahahahah! Fuuhuhuhuck, nohohohoho!”

“Found it!” Polnareff laughed, his fingers pressing into the center rack of his ribcage, bringing forth an onslaught of giggles from the younger crusader. “There we are, now that wasn’t so hard to do, was it, Jotaro?”

“Look, he’s laughing! He’s laughing!” Kakyoin gloated, seemingly dazzled as he carried on massaging that terrible spot along his friend’s neck. “Jojo, you sound so cute!”

“The absolute cutest! A coochie coochie coo! A coochie coochie coo!”

“Shihihihiihiht! Fuhuhuhuhck! Aheahhahahhaha! Pohohoohohon! Kahahahhaaki! Enoohohoohohugh!” He was sure he was going to die. Between the Frenchman’s teasing tone to Kakyoin’s quick fingers, he was certain death was upon him. Forget Dio’s henchman; betrayal by two of the crusaders was his fate.

Just as he given up hope, a mutiny had begun.

“EEK!” Kakyoin squeaked with a yelp when Silver Charot’s sword poked his side, jabbing rapidly into his waist. “AHehahahahaha! Pohohoohohnareheheheehf! Whhahhat are yohohohou dohohohoihng?”

“Sorry Kakyoin; but I do believe we’ve tickled Jotaro far enough.” Grinning cheekily, he gave Jotaro’s hat a gentle knock before changing targets, lunging at the giggly redhead before him. “Now we get to tickle you!”

“Wahahait, whahahait-EHAHAH NOT THE LEHEHEHGS!”

As this went on, Jotaro let out a low, tired groan, pulling his hat over his face to hide the burning blush staining his cheeks. He was gonna kill those idiots-

Beside him, Kakyoin let out a dolphin-like shriek that sent Polnareff over the edge, the Frenchman collapsing half on top of him as he laughed himself silly. Kakyoin was losing it just as hard, half heartedly punching at the other man’s shoulder as he struggled to real in his goofy giggles. Jotaro felt any previous anger melt away near instantly, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled his hat further down his face.

Fine, he wouldn’t kill them. Not today anyway.

Thanks for reading!

#JJBA #stardust crusaders #tickle #tickle fic #fluff #jotaro kujo #jean pierre polnareff #noriaki kakyoin #snuck some lee!Kak there in the end hehe #the boys being silly

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listlessladylister · 2 years

Text

Guys guys guys y’all omg

Imagine a Steve who has always been hard of hearing or was born with tinnitus and who’s hearing has been steadily worsening with each encounter with the upsideown, because he just keeps getting concussion after concussion like oh my god.

And he’s doing his best, he’s always known he would lose his hearing entirely eventually, but he’s also super bummed because he thought he’d have longer and there’s so many things that he knows he’s going to forget and that he didn’t appreciate enough.

And one day he’s getting high with our two favorite trailer trash men, Eddie and Billy and letting himself be not okay about it because he’s been putting on a strong face for the kids but inside he’s just spiraling into this really awful sense of mourning like ‘I know it’s really fucking obvious but god I fucking miss music. I really fucking miss music, and I’ll never hear it again and I kinda feel like I’ll never dance again either?? What if I just forget things like rhythm and beat and shit? Like what if I stop being able to tap little patterns with my fingers because I just lose all sense of tempo and melody? Like-'

And it is at this point that Eddie sits bolt upright and is forgetting all of the basic asl he’s learning for Steve in a fit of excitement and throng to mime ‘wait right here’ ‘I’m going to go get something’ and ‘I have a great idea’ all at once before he vaults off the bed and barely sticks the landing.

Steve and Billy are both confused but Eddie comes careening back in with a stereo and a cassette and Steve is like, ‘I’m the deaf one here jackass so I know you just heard me. Why are you bring music?’

Fast forward to Billy and Eddie introducing Steve to rock and metal and Steve for once being able to stand it, because he isn’t straining trying to understand what the lyrics are and he isn’t cringing from the wailing of the guitar. What he IS doing, is feeling the bass pump through his veins and cradle his ribcage, he can stomp and head bop and head bang and even though it isn’t really the same it’s good.

#harringroveson #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #deaf head cannon

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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

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Keith would like to say it was the sound of muffled retching that woke him up. Really, it was Lance accidentally kicking him in the groin in his desperate attempt to escape the tangled mess of sheets before he upchucked.

For the sake of his pride and also because Lance absolutely will laugh at him, Keith will pretend it’s the noise.

“Babe? You good?” he asks, rubbing his eye and leaning on the bathroom door.

“I’m fine,” Lance rasps between gags. “Go back to bed.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart.” Keith bends down to press a quick kiss to Lance’s sweaty forehead, and then pads over to the sink to fill a glass of water and dampen a cloth.

“I bet you weren’t thinking of this when you promised in sickness and health, huh.”

Keith settles down on the floor, pressed flush next to Lance. He takes his husbands free hand in his — Lance’s other hand preoccupied with holding his poor, tired head up — and squeezes three times in quick succession.

“No, I was,” Keith promises.

Lance coughs — a horribly deep cough, that sounds like it hurts — and Keith winces. He presses the back of his hand to Lance’s cheeks and then forehead, tutting.

“This one’s gonna be rough, baby.”

Lance sighs. “I know.”

He looks so upset. Keith truly wishes, with everything he has, that he could take some of Lance’s pain for himself. It’s not fair. Not at all. Why should Lance have to suffer so often? What asshole higher power decided hey — see that guy down there? The kind one, the one with a heart of gold? He gets a shitty immune system. Let’s punish him for no reason.

Goddamn bastards.

“Maybe it won’t be that horrible,” Keith tries. He carefully wraps his arm around Lance’s shoulders, pulling up his other hand to press a gentle kiss to the space just above his ring. “I work from home for the rest of the week. I’ll sit with you in bed and we’ll watch Pixar movies that always make me cry and you’ll gracefully pretend you don’t notice, and I’ll get you those blue popsicles you like. That’ll be nice, yeah?”

Lance hums, leaning bonelessly into Keith’s side. “Yeah. We’ll watch Nemo first.”

“Oh, you sadist jackass.”

Lance giggles. “You always cry and the most dumbass of times.”

“I do not! Dory getting excited about the little jellyfish is a perfectly normal time to cry! She’s so lonely!”

Lance laughs harder — hard enough to bring on a sneeze, so hard he loses control and brains himself on the toilet.

Keith chokes.

“Are you — are you okay,” he asks, desperately trying to shove the laughter deep down somewhere in his stomach, but the effort makes his voice shake.

There’s a beat of silence, air so thick with Lance’s barely concealed rage that Keith can barely keep ahold of himself.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Lance shouts, and Keith can’t hold it anymore.

“I — I’m sorry,” he tries between gasps, but Lance glares at him playfully, smacking him with the damp cloth from earlier.

“What kind of horrible husband laughs when I almost die via toilet-bludgeoning?”

Keith makes an effort to quiet down his chuckles, even though he knows Lance is only teasing. “One with a normal sense of humour. Can you imagine the eulogy I’d have to give?”

Lance scoffs. “Imagine giving my eulogy a lot, do you, Kogane? Dreaming of that life insurance payout?”

“Oh, please. You think I’m getting any money from your dusty ass? You’re as broke as I am, Kogane.”

Lance grins, like he always does when Keith calls him that. It was cute five years ago at the altar, and it’s cute now.

Gods above, Keith loves his husband.

“If you really think my ass is that dusty, you’re welcome to make friends with your right hand again.”

Keith presses a messy kiss to Lance’s cheek. “You know I’d never survive without you, baby.”

“Damn right,” Lance huffs.

The sit together for a few moments, long enough that Keith’s ass goes numb from the cold tile floor, comfortable silence broken only by Lance’s frequent coughs or sniffles.

“Think you’re good, now?” Keith asks after a while, when no further vomiting occurs.

Lance hums. “I hope so.”

Keith pats his hip. “Alright then, up you get. It’s freezing in here. Let’s go back to bed.”

They stand up and stretch — Keith making his usual complaints about his back, and Lance teasing him about being an old man as if he’s not only a fuckin’ year younger — and then make their way back to bed. Lance fluffs up the pillows while Keith straightens the blankets, and then they crawl in, Lance making himself comfortable by flopping on top of Keith’s entire person.

Keith doesn’t mind. He likes his dorky little bony weighted blanket.

“Thank you for sitting with me,” Lance whispers, long after Keith’s eyes have begun to close.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Keith confesses, and the last thing he feels before he drops off into dreamland is the press of Lance’s smile into his chest.

#the moral of the story is that i love them #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #established klance #married klance #bc i’m obsessed #fluff #sick lance #shitty immune system lance #soft keith #so smushy fr #my writing #fic fragment #vomit mention

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Part 9

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 8 🟣 Part 10

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), attempt at Dom!Mikey (interrupted), p-in-v sex, vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood, biting.

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: My girl @geralts-yenn sent me an ask a while back, about how I was being unfair keeping the kinky little bites to myself, and since I'm a people-pleaser (and I was already thinking we were light on the smut in this one...) there you go ;)

@deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @teamfan7asy @mis-lil-red @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81

“I passed my resit!” Mike had been struggling with that class the whole way through, and you could tell he was really glad it was over now. He’d tried to explain the contents of it to you six or seven times, but you were still completely clueless. It had something to do with engineering – which wasn’t surprising, for a mechanical engineering major.

“I’d say dinner is on me, but…” He rolled is eyes at you – which was fair; it was a horrible joke on your part.

“May I suggest something?” What was he on about? “You really want to do something nice for me. I appreciate that.” Of course he knew that was what you wanted to do right now – how were you still not the least bit used to that?

“Alright, shoot,” you said, even though you had a fairly good idea of how this was going to end. He just grinned and walked over, which was really all the confirmation you needed.

The one thing everyone knew about Mikey was that he had absolutely zero patience. Sitting still, waiting in line, being quiet – it would all turn him annoyingly jittery within minutes. But if you made the mistake of giving this jackass the opportunity to take your clothes off: patience of an angel. Begging would either work in your favor, or he’d really start to play with you, and from experience you knew that trying to help him along would land you shackled to his headboard. Not that that would be so terrible, but you were counting on being able to use your hands. The smug smirk on his face told you that he already knew you wanted him to go faster.

“Baby, please, I want to give you a little something for that grade,” you said. He winked as if to say ‘I know you do’, and kept going. Slowly, so fucking slowly… It was hard for him to show restraint when he finally made it past your blouse, and he was more or less face to face with his favorite toys.

Dating Mike saved you whatever money you used to shell out on matching sets of expensive lace underwear. He’d seen the stuff you already owned, shrugged, and greedily proceeded to unwrap the last bits of you. Sometimes, you just really wanted to be with a guy who appreciated it when you made an effort to dress up for him – and the fact that Mike was well aware of that broke your heart every time you were reminded of it.

“Get on your knees for me,” Mike said as he leaned back against his desk. He startled you; the usual playful tone in his voice was gone – traded in for something so serious and demanding you were surprised he even managed it. There was a darkness to it that caused a tingling sensation to creep down your spine. “It wasn’t a question. I know what you want, now be good for me and get on your knees.” It wasn’t in his voice or even in any other physical reaction of his body, but you could tell he wasn’t completely secure in his little experiment right here. Barking orders was the territory of August, of even Marshall – although you doubted the latter would be inclined to bring that talent into the bedroom. Guilt gnawed at your guts as for a second you wondered what it would be like to be in this position with either of them, knowing Mike could probably tell that you thought so.

“Down, now.” Yeah. He caught on to that little wicked whim. Fingers dug into the flesh of your shoulder and shoved you down. You understood the irritation. And you felt bad. Right?

Mike’s fingers dug into your shoulder even harsher, to the point where he actually hurt you, and he growled when he spoke again: “Open your fucking mouth.” Yeah. It didn’t suit him. At all.

“Stop it, Mikey,” you said. Was it a strong reaction? Sure. Was it necessary? Yeah. Unfortunately, it was. “What the fuck was that?” You scrambled to your feet and looked at Mike.

“It’s what you want.”

“Mikey…” The whole Dom/sub dynamic thing, whatever… It was something you were more than willing to experience, but Mike was more than enough for you just the way he was. And that wasn’t this. “Does the concept latent desire mean anything to you?” You could see it in his eyes; it really didn’t. Or he had some vague idea of what it was supposed to entail, but definitely not something he had any close personal experience with. Mike was… Something in your head just clicked.

“You didn’t just get your gift because Marshall turned you, did you? It’s because you were an impulsive, slightly hedonistic little jackass, isn’t it?” You couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Eh, that might have had something to do with it, yeah…” Mike admitted. It was clearly difficult for him.

“I don’t have to act on every whim, or every desire I happen to have,” you said, “and there’s a few I certainly don’t want to act on with you. Because this degrading, dominant… asshole – because that’s what you are to me right now – it’s not you. I want my impulsive, playful Mikey back, please. Please.” He thought about what you said for a moment. Was he scared? There was something in his eyes…

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby.” You ran a hand through his hair before resting your palm on his cheek.

“Don’t leave me for August,” he said in the smallest, lowest voice – probably so low that the others wouldn’t be able to hear it. You almost laughed at the ridiculous idea.

“Never,” you promised. Mike seemed to perk up a little when he heard you say it – and probably felt that you meant it. Nevertheless, you were hell-bent on proving it to him.

You kissed him softly while sliding your hands underneath the fabric of his shirt until you had to let him go for a moment to pull it over his head. He was eager to get his mouth back on yours, but you ducked.

“He- Oh…” You chuckled when the sounds escaped him; a moan interrupting his own objection. That was him. The idiot smile on his face – that you could see as he looked down on you while you kissed all the way down his chest on your way to get back on your knees for him – that was him, too. Mike freed his cock while you were still on your way, and as soon as you were sat in front of him, he put it to your lips, spreading a drop of precum over them. It was a question or an invitation, rather than a demand. It was Mikey.

You wished you could just open your mouth and take him all the way in. He’d love it, you were sure of that. Unfortunately, you weren’t blessed with a talent like that – although you and Mike definitely tried very hard to get rid of your gag reflex. Mike interrupted your thoughts by impatiently tapping his cock against your lips.

“Open your mouth, baby.” It was the signature boyish impatience you were so familiar with that made you want to listen, you were hoping he got that. Of course he got that. He better fucking understand that that was exactly what got him what he wanted.

You barely got the change to stick your tongue out. Your plan had been to tease him a little, circle the head of his cock with your tongue, lick that spot you knew drove him wild, but as soon as you opened your mouth, he pushed in. So you went with that. This was the new plan. Actually, it was Mikey: there was no plan. You listened to his sweet moans of pleasure as you moved your head up and down his shaft, and then… A hard grunt when your teeth scraped his skin – accidentally, of course.

“Fuck, baby, do that again?” He liked it? Alright, no time to question that: he liked it – and you were more than happy to answer to his request. For a while, you explored this newfound little turn-on of his, varying pressure and places. It was definitely the most fun you had ever had while blowing a guy.

“Eh, babe,” you heard after a while, “gimme a little more here? You’re so fucking close to taking me all the way down…” Shit, you hadn’t even noticed that your little bout of experimenting had led you to work more of Mike’s length into your mouth than you ever had. Now that you did realize, the nerves kicked in.

Mike put a hand on your head and looked at you with a clear ‘may I?’ burning in his eyes. The slightest bit of pressure followed immediately; after all, he knew what you wanted…

“Holy fuck, Sweetcheeks, you are so fucking hot.” There was something in his voice that told you he was proud of you. You were proud of yourself, too, so that worked out nicely. Just to see what would happen, you sank your teeth in his flesh again.

“Easy, Sweetcheeks” Mike laughed, “don’t want you to make me cum just yet.” You whined when he pulled out of your mouth and somehow threw you on your bed, got naked, and grabbed a condom in the same second. Well… ‘Somehow’ was an overstatement; it was obviously vampire-speed. Even though you watched him do it, you didn’t see it. It was annoying. It felt as if your eyes failed you, even though you knew they didn’t. Dwelling on it was impossible, though, because Mike was already on top of you, smirking at you with abundant idiot-vibes, kissing your mouth, cheeks, jaw, neck, forehead, ears, shoulders. Licking your cheek. For reasons unbeknownst to literally any living soul but Mike himself.

“Yikes! Mikey! Don’t lick me!” Hold on? Did you just hear someone laugh? It sure as fuck wasn’t Mike… Luckily you had only been partially undressed. Mike had only taken your shirt off before starting his little experiment.

“I don’t know who that was, but butt out,” Mike said before you could even open your mouth. He turned to you next: “I swear they don’t listen, but you kinda shouted that. And it was funny, I’ll give him that.”

“Who was it?” Did you want to know? Yeah, you were far too curious. But needing to know something and actually wanting to hear the answer… Two entirely different things.

“August,” Mike said. His tone was very neutral.

“Ah. Well I guess I owe him one,” you said softly as you felt your cheeks warm up.

“What, for walking in on him jacking off? Yeah, the whole house heard that.” Mike laughed the way you loved so much; loudly and unapologetically. He ordered the rest of the house to put on headphones and went back to kissing you all over – although he didn’t lick your cheek again.

“Hm, my reward for passing my class,” he mused when he had – barely – managed to get rid of your bra with it still in one piece.

“That blowjob was your reward,” you replied to him, which earned you a disapproving look from below.

“I want both.” Well, okay, if he was going to give you that look… Done deal. Stupid puppy-eyed boyfriend. You could easily imagine falling asleep to the treatment he gave your boobs; gently massaging and squeezing the flesh of your breasts while he sucked on your nipples. He was gentle, his touch comforting and thrilling, making you shiver and arch into his touch. He focused on your chest for a while, but it wasn’t too long before his hands started to wander, clearly on a mission to take the rest of your clothes off. It didn’t take him long – of course it didn’t.

“Head or dick?” Oh, options! How fantastic! You laughed when he asked, cupping his chin with your hand, pulling him back up so he could kiss you. “No head?”

“No,” you sighed into his mouth, whimpering as he pulled away to take care of the uncharming latex-y aspect of things.

He sank into you without hesitation, and a little too enthusiastically, causing you to gasp.

“Sorry Sweetcheeks,” he said, apologetic smirk on his face, “couldn’t wait. Love the way your pussy feels too much.” You’d been so startled – and almost ashamed – the first time you had slept together and he’d talked to you like that, but now you never wanted to have to miss it. It was worth enduring the occasional tongue on your cheek.

Mike’s movements became more controlled, thrusts now slow and deep, making sure you felt every inch of him inside of you. His mouth latched onto your nipple again as he kept moving. It was nice, even when he grazed the sensitive skin with his teeth.

You heard the low growl, deep at the back of his throat, felt his fangs drag over your skin, decidedly sharper than the rest of his teeth.

“You want a bite, don’t you?” The answer was the cutest little ‘mhm’, and you chuckled. “Go ahead, baby.”

Expectations: a bite like the last few times you’d spent time dabbling in this funky little kink of his. Teeth on neck, teeth in neck, teeth out of neck. Reality: Teeth in boob. The pain was as manageable as always – comparable to a bite on your neck, slightly more painful than your wrists – but the unexpectedness was startling.

“Mikey!” you warned, even though it was clearly already too late for a warning. You could tell from the way he moved that he was chasing his release, getting closer with every controlled, shallow thrust, as he suckled on your breast. Fuck, it felt good. Everything he did now was so gentle, so different from your normal, lively, enthusiastic rounds in the sheets – or in the shower, or that one time on the couch when you had the apartment to yourselves – but it was fantastic.

Mike didn’t let go of you when he finally came, which wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“Mike,” you said softly while you stroked his hair, hoping he’d look up. He did shift, and his cock slipped out of you, so that was one crisis averted, but he didn’t detach from your boob. “Mi-key. Stop.” The truth was that you didn’t want him to stop. But like you had said before: you weren’t giving him that privilege over the others, and he’d have to deal with that.

“Mike, I want you to stop.” He had to. He would have, even if he wasn’t biologically compelled to, you were sure of that, but he was, so he had to listen to you all the more. “That was a little more than the kinky little bite you asked for, wasn’t it?” He looked ashamed of himself when he confirmed your suspicion.

“Sorry, baby, you just taste so good,” he said before his tongue gently lapped at the puncture wounds on your chest. You had noticed that the Sherlock and August had also done that when they had been done feeding. And Marshall, at the end of the second try.

“Why do you do that?” you asked.

“It helps the wounds heal,” Mike said, “some enzyme or God knows what. I’m an engineer, not a biologist.” Sherlock would definitely know the answer. You’d been showering him with questions, anyway, a few more wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he quite seemed to like giving you lectures. It was probably a nice change of pace from a half-dead classroom.

Mike took care of cleanup, and upon return he snuggled into your side, no doubt sending that was what you wanted most right now.

“Can I do anything for you?” Another redundant question made the first one pop back into your head. You assured him this was everything you wanted from him before unleashing your question.

“You knew,” you said. Was it an accusation? Not really.

“Knew what?” He wasn’t feigning his innocence; it was genuinely a super vague question.

“The second you asked me if I wanted you to go down on me or fuck me, you knew what the answer was going to be.”

“I did.” He laughed softly. You loved it when he did that

“You asked out of politeness.” You almost didn’t believe it.

“Eh… Yeah. I’ve been told – not just by you, by the way – that it’s annoying when I snoop around in your head. So I figured I’d try to get used to asking for some confirmation…”

“Confirmation you don’t need,” you said. Your fingers twirled around in his hair, wrapping his dark locks around them and releasing them again. It made him shiver and moan slightly, which made it your favorite pastime when you were in bed with him.

“Confirmation I want because maybe what you want and what you want me to know you want – or what you want me to act on – are not the same thing.”

“Who have you been talking to?”

“Sherlock,” he admitted. You laughed. That sounded like him.

“I passed my final!” Mike said when you appeared at the dinner table for… well, dinner.

“We heard,” August groaned. You hit him over the head with a book. It almost cost you the book, but August’s skull seemed to be fine.

“We’re robust, love, you must have noticed.” At this point, you didn’t bother telling Marshall to get out of your head anymore.

“Where’d you bite her?” August asked as he handed you a stack of plates while not-so-subtly investigating your neck. Mike didn’t answer, but a suggestive eyebrow-wiggle did the trick just fine. You assumed everyone in the house knew exactly how fond Mike was of boobs, anyway. He wasn’t particularly secretive about that, or anything.

“Kinky,” August replied. He pinched your ass when you were bent over the table to put plates down on the other side, making you jump.

“Hey!” You couldn’t help but laugh. Over the past few weeks, some of the tension between Mike and August had dissolved, and despite Mike’s lingering insecurities, everyone got along really well. “August, hands off.” Wait, why were they laughing? Why wasn’t Mike throwing a fit? You would have expected him to kick August’s ass if he… Of course.

“Mikey!” They had promised to not abuse their stupid abilities to mess with you.

“Couldn’t help myself, Sweetcheeks,” he said, putting a lot of emphasis on that last syllable before laughing at his own corny joke.

“Next time, bite her there,” Marshall joked.

“Eh, guys, can we cool it on the locker room talk?” It’s not that the general subject was making you uncomfortable, but you yourself being the specific subject sure did. “Out of curiosity, what is the best place to… y’know.” Chickening out on that last bit really hurt your girlboss act. Damn!

“Tiddies,” Mike said as he walked past you, pressing his lips to your cheek. Marshall and August had more complicated answers. You could tell from the mischievous glint in their eyes.

“Come on, boys, if you’re tough enough to make fun of me and Mikey for… I don’t know, being the only ones in a relationship, I guess?”

“Alight,” Marshall gave in, “if you must know. You edge her for a bit and right when she’s about to cum all over your face; inside of her thigh.” The grin on his face was unbearable, the wink – or attempt at a wink – was even worse.

“Thanks for the tip!” Mike said. There was far too much grinning going on here for your liking, but you couldn’t exactly be mad at it, because it was your own fault.

“Nah, you spank her good, until her ass is nice and red, then you bite it. I’ve been told it hurts like a bitch.” Alright, August definitely enjoyed that thought a little too much.

“My Goodness, I have three children,” Sherlock suddenly said, strolling into the kitchen so casually you weren’t sure if you were discussing kinky vampire habits or the evening news. Judging from the way he glared at the guys, it didn’t bother him that they talked about it, but it did bother him that they were being a certain kind of way about it.

“So, no crazy vampire kinks for you?” Perhaps Sherlock’s answer was the one you were most curious about.

“Not particularly. Can we please discuss something else?” He looked so uncomfortable you almost wanted to hug him. In fact…

“Sherlock, are you alright?” He shook his head and explained he’d had a terrible day at work. Some kind of incident he couldn’t say too much about. Before you knew it, you had your arms wrapped around him, his casually resting on the side of your hips. You didn’t know where the sudden urge to comfort him came from, but it was there. He was a good friend, he deserved to be taken care of.

“Why don’t you go take a shower, we’ll wait for a bit,” August suggested, and everyone else agreed. It was August’s lasagna, which was absolutely fucking delicious. Then again, he’d had four centuries to learn how to cook.

#mike hellraiser fic #mike x ofc #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser)#hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #walter marshall #hc sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #august walker #august walker fanfiction #mike hellraiser smut #mike (hellraiser) x reader #mike hellraiser x reader

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kaunis-sielu · 2 years

Text

A Payment

You’re clenching your teeth so hard that you’re surprised you haven’t broken a tooth, or your jaw. Fire practically races through your veins you’re so furious, how could he?

“You will do this.” Your father says coldly, “you will do this without complaint.” A single tear slips down your face but it’s not sorrow, it’s rage. You don’t say anything to your father, he doesn’t even bother looking up when you turn away from him. “You will make yourself presentable.” He instructs as your hand touches the door handle you pause for a moment, taking a deep breath so that you don’t snap, you push the door open and storm past the two men that are waiting just outside.

“Queenie?” Lance says and you don’t look at him as you continue to your rooms.

“Don’t.” You snap, Lance has been on your six for long enough to know that when you’re in a rage like this it’s best to just leave you alone.

He does follow you through your father’s house and to the rooms that you always stay in when you’re here. You hate staying here, you feel like you’re suffocated all the time, that you’re back to being that seventeen year old girl who is powerless in her father’s empire. Not that you actually have any power, which is something that your father has made perfectly clear in the last ten minutes.

Fuck Grant. He should have to pay for his own mistakes but since he’s your older half brother and a male he gets to just skate by and will get to run the empire some day.

You, you’re just a pawn.

You’re not a queen.

You shove your door open and start throwing things into your suitcase. You hadn’t bothered to bring much, you’d been hopeful that this little meeting with your father wouldn’t be long. It hadn’t, but it also hadn’t gone the way that you’d hoped. You’d hoped that since moving away from New York to Boston your father would let you have the independence that you so badly craved. You hadn’t lived under his roof since your 18th birthday specifically so that you could have that freedom. For nearly fifteen years you’d lived off on your own, away from New York, away from your father’s iron fist and the life of a mob boss’s daughter.

“Queenie? What’s going on?” Lance asks softly and you sigh heavily, he does have the right to know considering he’s been your constant companion since you were thirteen.

“I’ve been sold to Steve Rogers.” You tell him so softly that you’re not sure that he’s heard you. At least you’re not sure he’s heard you until he lets out a low growl.

“I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to run that one by me again.”

“My dear brother has run up a rather large debit with Rogers, who has agreed to let that jackass live for a share in the business. Apparently, my father thinks that I count as a share in the business. So, in less than twelve hours I’ll be off your hands for good and under his protection, or whatever he wants to do with me I guess.” You tell Lance dropping down onto the bed, a shirt in your hands. “I should’ve never come back Lance.”

“You didn’t have a choice Q.” He tells you crossing the room and dropping down onto the bed next to you. Lance has been there for all of it. Since your mom died when you were thirteen and your father had decided that you needed a bodyguard to control you under the guise of keeping you safe. You’d fought at first, especially since Lance was only a few years older than you, but once the two of you had come to an agreement, that he wouldn’t try to boss you around unless it was life or death and you’d cooperate with him, you’d become fast friends.

“I hate him. I hate him so much.” You say before the tears start to fall and Lance gently pulls you to him so that you can let yourself grieve.

“I’m sorry Queenie.” He says into your hair, “I won’t leave you though, not unless you tell me to. I’m your guy until the canary sings baby.” He says and you laugh through your tears.

“Thanks Lance but you’re part of my father’s company, if he says you stay you have to stay.”

“I can leave Queenie, the only reason that I haven’t is because of you.”

“You can pay the dues?” You ask looking up at him in surprise, “Does Bobbi know?”

“Yea, she knows the deal. I’m your shadow, on your six no matter what. Where you go we go. Even if that means paying the dues to your father and then joining Rogers Company.” You don’t know what to say, you love Lance like the big brother you wish you had, not the piece of shit that you’ve got, and to know that he cares for you as much as you do for him is heartwarming.

“Thanks Lance.” You murmur and he gives your shoulders a squeeze.

“When do you have to be ready?”

“Father said seven, apparently Rogers is coming over to pick me up and sign some paperwork or something then I’m to go with him.”

“Alright, so we have three hours. What do you want to do?”

“I have to get ready. Pack, shower, look presentable and shit.” You say with another long sigh, “This sucks.”

“Yea, but you weren’t happy here so maybe you’ll be happy with Rogers.”

“I was happy in Boston.”

“You won’t be at your father’s beck and call anymore.”

“I’ve traded one golden cage for another Lance. I know you’re trying to help but right now I just need to be sad so when it’s time I can be fury herself.” He nods his understanding and leaves the room. You get everything packed except for the black dress you’re planning on wearing. It’s got a scoop neck and long sleeves and falls to just above your knees. You’ll wear a pair of black heels and wear your hair up with some dramatic make up. You’ll look a Queen, not just little Queenie who is a pawn in the games men play, you’ll demand his respect.

At quarter to seven someone knocks on your door. When you pull the door open you’re not surprised to see Adia, your father’s everything woman. You’re fairly certain they’ve been sleeping together for a while but that’s never been confirmed.

“Your father said to sign this.”

“What is it?” You ask taking the paper that she’s passed you. She doesn’t answer and when you glance at the top you see the words ‘marriage license’ and you gape at it. “I’m not signing this.”

“Either you sign it or I do it for you. Trip will confirm that you signed it either way.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You sneer but Adia just laughs.

“What’s it going to be Queenie?”

“Go to hell.” You slam the door back in her face but she shoves it open before you can get the chance to lock it and snatches the marriage license from your hands.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She smirks before forging your signature on the document and flouncing away with Trip on her tail. If you were going to kill someone you’d start with Adia.

The next knock on your door comes at five to seven. When you open the door this time it’s Lance.

“Your father wants you downstairs.” He says, his eyes are soft and when he sees the panic flit through yours he takes a deep breath, one that you copy. Then you straighten your spine, lift your chin and go downstairs. Steve and his men aren’t here yet, your father and Grant wait each with a drink in hand.

“You will say nothing but that you agree to this do you understand me?” You father warns.

“What if I don’t?” You sneer, he won’t kill you not now, you’re too valuable.

“We’ll send Lance home to Bobbi in pieces.” Your only weakness and he knows it.

“I hate you.”

“Watch your tongue little sister.”

“Rot in hell Grant.” Grant goes to respond when your father cuts him off with a hissed,

“Enough.” Moments later Adia walks into the room.

“They’re here.” She says, her eyes only on your father, god you hate everyone in this stupid family.

“Thank you Adia.” She gives him a sweet smile then goes back out the door to collect your new leash holder.

When the door opens again you wait with your heart in your throat until he walks in, tall and strong, light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Those eyes land on you dragging down your body and a small smirk graces his lips.

What an asshole.

Tag list:

@andahugaroundtheneck @connie326 @also-fangirlinsweden @lumar014 @loving-life-my-way @pagina16ps @emdying @dumblani @valsworldofcreativity @blackwidownat2814 @sky0401 @dontbescaredtosingalong @abschaffer2

#steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader au #steve rogers au #mob boss!steve #mob boss au #mob boss steve rogers #mobster au #a payment story

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aggravatetheaxe · 2 years

Text

GRABBER X GN READER PT II

Part I HERE

Another one I didn't go back and edit, it just comes out of my like word vomit.

Reader is heavily implied to be male but it's never clearly stated.

NSFW, minors please DNI. The Grabber is not a you-know-what and I'm not gonna fight about it so save your energy.

music: x

words: 1,514

Masterlist

***

Things had gotten even more awkward with Al.

Unsurprisingly. It seemed to you like the way he'd spoken to you in the kitchen had shaken you both up. He was normally a friendly guy - too friendly, sometimes too familiar with strangers, trying so hard ... and people noticed after a while. But with you, he had always been reserved. That had been the main reason you'd assumed he hated you. Last night had opened your eyes. Maybe his, too.

He wanted you to stay, even if Max left. Definitely unexpected. But what was his angle? Did he simply enjoy your company as a roommate, or was there something more he wanted?

His hot and cold was confusing, albeit exciting. Exciting enough that you sometimes caught yourself poking him, trying to get him a little irritated so he'd use that voice on you again. Or grab you.

It worked partially. He did get irritated, but he didn't do what you wanted. It only succeeded in driving a wedge between you. He became listless, stressed, agitated - like he was waiting for something that wouldn't come. Reminded you of the university, waiting for the stupid board or TA or whoever was the incompetent jackass of the week to finish their part so you could do yours. Except Al's personality was nowhere near as strong as yours, so he slowly but surely became more sad and insecure.

And he was losing sleep. He made drained pots of coffee like it was his job.

You wondered if you should say something. His connection to reality already seemed so tenuous sometimes; the last thing you wanted was for him to break down completely. Unsustainable. That was a good word. He seemed prone to starting habits that were simply unsustainable.

A week after your encounter in the kitchen, the universe seemed to choose your path for you. Your first couple days at the new job - stocking shelves, but actually, it was a breath of fresh air - had been difficult to get used to, so your sleep patterns weren't much better than his. That particular night, you tossed and turned, then gave up and read, then gave up on that and decided to fetch a hot drink.

You were halfway to the kitchen when you heard the screen of the back door shudder open, and not a moment later, a figure appeared. It moved with purpose, its eyes dark and shiny and not entirely human.

"Fuck!" You jumped and clutched your shirt. "Your mask - you scared the shit out of me, Al."

There was a beat of silence, stillness, before Al ripped the mask off his face. It was as though he was coming up for air, gasping as he took you in. "Sorry! Sorry."

Without thinking, you snatched the thing out of his hands and underhanded it onto a nearby armchair. He was far too surprised by the action to be angry.

"What's the big ... are you okay? You're white as a fuckin' sheet."

"You have a dirty mouth," he rasped lamely, and though his tone was nowhere near commanding, your heart fluttered. He averted his eyes. "I ... thought ... I heard someone outside. I thought, wouldn't the mask frighten them off?"

You glanced down. His clothes and shoes were covered in a layer of clingy dirt. His hands and arms were even dirtier. He was lying to you.

He noticed you looking and hid his hands behind his back.

Lie or not, it was too late to get into it. You sighed. "Why don't you shower and go to sleep, Al? You've been up for too long. Can we just agree upon that? Okay?"

He stared at you. "...Okay..."

And he left.

The guy really did just want to be told what to do, seemed like. Some people didn't care to be masters of their own destiny, you supposed. Or maybe it was more like he didn't know how. Or didn't know it was an option. Whatever the case, at least he'd met someone who'd remind him to take care of himself.

By the time you finished your tea (although it was mostly hot milk, if you were honest), Al had showered, changed into his jammies, and was sitting on the couch. He sat slumped backward, knees spread wide, staring at Max's stupid Grabber pin map with an unreadable expression.

"Max really thinks he's some kinda Columbo," you said, settling onto the couch next to him - not that he'd left much room.

"Mm?" As if roused from a trance, he looked at you, then blinked slowly, nodded, and affirmed, "Mm-mm."

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Look at you, you're falling asleep sitting up."

"I'm okayyy..."

"Well, just rest your head a second." Before he could protest, you took one of the lovingly placed throw pillows and put it on your thigh, then patted it. "Here."

Al paused, staring at the pillow rather than you, but eventually, silently, he conceded. He laid his head against the pillow and tucked up his knees, and though he was tense at first, it wasn't long before he relaxed. Before either of you could reconsider your position, he was breathing deep and steady.

You were relieved for him. But at the same time, now you were stuck. You finished your tea, and he still hadn't moved. The sky turned from black to dark blue. Your eyelids got heavier. You told yourself you'd just rest your eyes for a minute, then you'd nudge him to get up and go to his bed.

The next thing you knew, you were waking up. The sun was bright yellow. It must be close to mid-morning.

The two of you were sandwiched together on the couch, with you crammed into the cushions' crevice and Al in the little spoon position. As you shifted, you realized just how uncomfortable this position was, and yet you almost didn't want to move. He was warm and (you could feel through his shirt, the way your arm was slung casually around his middle) you could feel the planes of his chest and stomach. It just reminded you of what he looked like shirtless.

You shifted slightly again, listening to his breathing. Still deep and relaxed. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, then swiped your tongue over it, considering your next move. Carefully, you fingered the hem of his shirt, then let your fingertips brush his bare skin. His pajama pants had slipped down a bit. It took everything in you not to gasp when you touched his hip bone - low, near his thigh - and brushed soft hair.

Al hummed in his sleep and shifted a little. You froze. But your moment of terror was brief, as he settled down again.

Should you keep going? God, his hair smelled so good. He was so warm, and you'd never seen him so peaceful - the little wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead were smoother now. There was something so off about him, and yet, something in you wanted desperately to be with him. You wanted him to want you.

Waking him up with a (gentle) hand job would either be the best thing to happen to both of you, or the worst mistake you ever made.

Your fingertips literally tingled as you eased your fingers further down, daring to comb them through the nest between his legs. But when you felt his telling heat, sensed you were about to touch flesh, you shied away. Maybe now wasn't the right time...

Instead, you sighed heavily. Furrowed your brow in frustration. Watched him sleeping soundly for a few more seconds. Smelled his hair again. Dared to place a kiss on his neck, just below his ear.

He shifted and moaned again, and you swiftly removed your hand from his pants. He was well and truly stirring now - within a few moments, he had turned over and opened his big brown eyes. Sparkly. Why was he so gorgeous?

"You've got long eyelashes like a baby cow," you said, mustering a smirk to hide your vulnerability. Be a creature like no other, Mom had always said of flirting. Well, that wasn't so hard for you. Other humans were soft and easily flustered. Not you. Not you, with the wit and the judgmental percipience.

Not usually.

Al's widened his eyes and sat up quick enough that it hurt your feelings. "Oh! Oh, God, I didn't mean to fall asleep here. I better - " He gestured with some distress but didn't finish his thought, and moved to duck out of the room.

"Wait!" You stood from the couch.

He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at you with some complicated, sad expression.

The thing was, you had no idea what you actually wanted to say to him. That felt really nice. I want to sleep in bed with you. Tonight, any night. I want to do more than that. I think you'd like it a lot. I kissed you - did you feel it? You would like to?

Why did you lie to me? What are you hiding? Why are you scared? Why is the energy in this house so damn oppressive?

None of that came out. You exhaled with a measure of frustration and mumbled, "Can you ... can you drive me to work?"

***

Part III will come soon!

Masterlist

#the grabber x reader #the grabber x gn reader #the grabber x male reader #the grabber x you #albert shaw

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jobey-wan-kenobi · 1 year

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The Engines as Mentors

Okay but I'm eternally salty that TVS in particular—though it was RIGHT to expand the NWR fleet—failed to use the dynamic of the OG characters from the books all functioning as Mentors and Elder Statesmen to the newer and more obscure and younger engines.

It would have been THE way to effectively integrate the newbies (looking especially hard at you, HIT era). Like, some of the best use of the new characters already are when they fall into a mentee dynamic with one of the established characters. But the TVS writers really only ever let this happen with, like, Thomas? To a degree? And Edward? A bit? And then the best and most beloved BWBA episodes (BWBA!) are when Gordon and, again, Edward get more of this sort of material. And then again, in fuckin' AEG, the most popular thing so far seems to be Gordon's whole Grumpy Dad shtick.

But I think canon and fan writers should have done this with all the classic characters. After decades as The Famous Eight—erm, Ten—(but not Eleven—to me Oliver is in that category of newbie that needs looking after. which is what the rest of the Little Western spends most of his one book doing!) they are all kinda old af and well-qualified and honestly just should be mentoring the diesels and younger steam engines and whatever wide-eyed newcomers are brought to the Island Where Fever Dreams Come True and Culture Shock Is Probably One Hell of a Bitch.

LIKE. Percy. Yes, absolutely Percy! He's inconsistent about standing up for himself or making good decisions in his own working life but honestly his instincts when it comes to others have always been completely on-point. And he never has any hesitation about acting on his instincts so there is a recipe here for big-brother success. He must be so wonderful with uncertain new engines. I think he would have been much better for taking Molly under his wing than Thomas, and he must be a god among many of the newer tank engines. Like the dynamic I tried to paint in my headcanon post about Harvey—Percy gives whiplash as your mentor because he will always support you 100% but sometimes he will suddenly make the most baffling decisions and if you are not, yourself, a natural chaos gremlin, you are just along for the ride and possibly dying of secondhand embarrassment. But again, you also get over it because no one will ever show up for you more consistently than Percy the Caterpillar Engine.

The BWBA era thing where Gordon winds up mentoring Rebecca is... like, fine, I guess. I don't have any complaints about it, but—as I tried to show in my ficlet with him and Derek—I think Gordon's most typical mentorships have two unmistakable characteristics:

it is insanely arbitrary as to whether or not he decides to take you on. if you wind up in his circle of trust you probably weren't trying or even remotely expecting. it is also hard for anyone else to understand why Gordon looked at a new engine and said to himself "Yes. That one." Because the way Gordon makes emotional decisions is utterly impenetrable—this is RWS canon. Why did Gordon one day go from being Pure Unadulterated Jackass Whose Only Thought So Far In His Life Has Been "Me! Me! Meeeee!" to the engine who (evidently? without?? snark???) suggested the Fat Controller let Henry out of the tunnel to take a turn on his train? Honestly we don't know but it remains Gordon's signature style. Why did Gordon do an about-face after James took the express and graciously decide James was his new buddy? Well, to save face of course, but Gordon is also not above a good grudge so it feels like a coin toss. Why did Gordon decide to be super gracious when he rescued Percy and Thomas from their RWS scrapes? No one knows but somehow these moments are so quintessentially him (even though showing up moaning and scolding would have also been quintessentially him). And—most relevantly of all—there is what I regard as his archetypal moment with BoCo. 'My dear engine! You SAVED MY LIFE.' 'I mean, you're welcome for getting rid of them but they were never actually going to kill you.' 'YES THEY WERE. THEY HAD MURDER IN THEIR HEARTS. YOU ARE A GOD AMONG DIESELS, STANDING STRONG AGAINST THE FORCES OF DARKNESS.' '... Sure.' Gordon logic is not the same as earth logic and his reasons for rejecting or accepting others seldom make much sense.

If he does take you on, you may not even notice. Gordon is very stuffy and kind of... emotionally remote. His mentorship style consists of long rambling bouts of relating/boasting about his own experiences and/or advising you, without you able to get much of a word in edgewise—but then, he does this with everyone who is ever stuck with him—and doing extraordinarily nice things for you such as pulling strings to get you the best assignments or upgrades but he'll do it all behind your back, so it might take a while before you realize. (But you'd better, because even though he deliberately decides to do these things in secret, he will also privately feel hurt and hard-done-by if you don't figure it out and thank him. Or at least exclaim happily in his presence and sing the praises of your unknown fairy godfather.)

So yes, mentor!Gordon is a lot like friend!Gordon and worker!Gordon. He is pretty damn high-maintenance but he is also genuinely quite worth it. What his relationships lack in... comprehensibility they make up for in loyalty and generosity. ALTHOUGH. It's worth laughing because I think most of the engines he takes on are decent, polite engines who perhaps have some self-confidence issues. Basically it's like any engine he meets afterwards who is in the Edward mould he is actually magnificent to, which is hysterical considering that one of the keynotes in early canon was Gordon bullying the shit out of Edward. (I still think that wasn't malicious though, and more Gordon did not yet have the remotest understanding of Himself, Theory of Mind, or How to Be a Friend.)

If you have self-confidence issues but you do not win Gordon's capricious favor, never fear! You have James. Who is even more capricious, but that's not to say he's never been the most faaaaaabulous mentor in the world, c'est ne pas? Look. I want to see James as the catalyst for shy newcomers having a glow up. In appearance and attitude. I don't think he does he often but it has definitely happened around twice. I somehow have never actually watched "Rosie is Red" or "The Fastest Red Engine on Sodor" while paying attention but I've been assuming that's exactly how Rosie's Confident Girl Arc went down. Maybe he could be a similar idol for Neville or Flora. Another thing that has happened twice is James just flat-out corrupting a couple of the Good, Buttoned-Down Boys and Girls. I still want to see James take, like, Porter or Arthur and teach 'em anger. Introduce them to the world of (tiny) rebellions. By the time James is done with them, they are starting to Display Behaviors, and Act In Certain Ways.

Henry, I firmly believe (sticking out my tongue at most of the TVS and magazine writing for him), is actually regarded very intimidating. Like Gordon and James are intimidating too, but they are also known jackasses and the universe is known to have slapped them around reliably when they get too far up their own tenders. Also Gordon usually puts on an air of affability—in RWS it's Henry who is the Grumpy One (and meanwhile James, though he has a foul temper, is just too ADHD to be properly intimidating). I suspect Henry's actually always had the reputation for being extremely snobbish. Which is silly because he's only mildly to moderately snobbish, but there you are. He also doesn't put himself out there socially, but of course if you put yourself out there to him he's perfectly friendly. Anyway newcomers and young engines wouldn't know this right away. I think Henry's specialty is mentees in the mold of Bear and my OC Laura and even Rebecca—extroverted, expressive engines who show him respect. In those cases you see his best side, all kindliness and unstinting support. And Henry's support is really valuable, for the usual reasons that all the OGs have a lot of pull on the railway but also because Henry is surprisingly sage and sensible. He doesn't have the reputation for it the way Edward does, due to some of his notoriously poor decision-making in his earlier years and the way he can still sometimes be a bit literal or naive. But even if he's had to learn most things the hard way, he hasn't lied to himself about it and therefore he's developed a very clear-eyed view on things. Refreshingly simple and sound. We see this already in the RWS Super Rescue—he's got Bear and Spamcan pretty well-pegged long before the story ends. He also values engine solidarity in a really consistent, utterly unpretentious way that shows you he doesn't even think about it, it's just become a part of who he is. I love it. And, of course, he's bold as brass. He once hissed steam at his boss and essentially told him to fuck off for no better reason than it was raining and he just wasn't feelin' it. He had the most horrid wreck in the series and after being rebuilt he just got right back on that horse, pulling Flying Kippers again for the next century without the slightest sign of trauma. So if you need him for something, he won't hesitate to move earth and heaven for a friend. He may be a bit of a hypochondriac and likes to predict doom and gloom but he is fundamentally pretty fearless when it comes time for action. (Cut him a break with the elephant thing—he's allowed to have tunnel-related trauma, okay?)

Of course there was one extroverted engine inclined to hero-worship that Henry rejected in canon as a mentee, and that was Philip. Which brings us to Edward, and I fully agree with the fandom consensus that he is the mentor ever, capable of and inclined to look out for, like, everyone. All I'm saying is that I think the others can also step up in this way... Anyway, Edward's specialty of course is engines who are in the mould of Thomas, engines who are excited and eager to work but who talk a lot and might have a streak of mischief and who are definitely considered Too Much by everyone else. Edward likes energetic gremlins. They've always kept him young at heart. And, more importantly, they trust him so completely. Probably because they can tell he's one of the few who genuinely doesn't mind them at what everyone else considers their Most Annoying. He never tells them to hold still or quiet down or make themselves smaller in any way, so they are incredibly receptive to whatever he does tell them.

But what if you're Too Much and you are not eager? If you are not susceptible to admiring Edward's stellar work ethic? I think this is where Thomas shines. Like I think HIT abbreviated and simplified the conflicts with Dennis and Billy too much but it was such a gold mine. Because Thomas, see. You get these little sneaky rotters who don't want to listen to anyone—and at first Thomas seems like the most out-of-touch engine on the rails. Coz Thomas is a tryhard. He also has that whole "corporate positivity" thing going on. Like, the way I resolve the way TVS massacring my boy is by supposing that, after all, Thomas might have really tried to adopt that persona, especially in the '80s when he was inducted into the National Collection and the, well, television series got underway and Thomas becomes damn near the most famous locomotive in the world, certainly he knows he is an icon for children, and he might have figured that, well, this means I have to be a Good Role Model and Teach Children Valuable Lessons. And so he really did try to do this whole pep-talk, moralizing, sugary sweet encouragement thing (and he has a Word of the Day calendar, lol).

And the Dennises and Billies of the world look at that and—understandably, I think—retch a little. But then they double down. And the thing is, when they push Thomas too far, Thomas forgets to be sweetness and light, and just becomes himself. First of all, a foul-mouthed little drill-sergeant wannabe ("Cinders and ashes!!!!" "Who's been late every afternoon this week?!" "You're too fat—you need exercise!" "IF YOU DIE? IF YOU DIE, MOTHERFUCKER? SO WHAT?! I WOULDN'T GIVE A SHIT COZ I'D BE TOO BUSY FINALLY RUNNING MY GODDAMN TRAIN TO TIME." - all direct quotes from Thomas the Tank Engine, ladies and gents) Secondly, an extremely experienced engine who really has done a bit of everything by this point (he even hitched a ride on the Wild Nor'wester that one time, lol) and who is pretty skeptical so he's hard to fool (Percy was the last engine to really ever get one over on him, during the Ghost Train incident, and that's ancient history by this point). If you try to get away with doing a shitty job he's bound to notice and he will be quite acid-tongued if you've pierced his PR Persona. Third, although he can be kinda self-involved and the last to "get" what's going on with newcomers, he is surrounded by his old friends, who are all pretty good about either clocking an engine's whole Deal, getting all the tea like the gossips they are, or both. So while he was still in his amiable-idiot stage of your acquaintance, you, poor rebellious fool, thought you had the run of things but all the while he was getting up to speed on your whole deal. Which means you won't be prepared, should you really commit to ongoing antisocial behavior, for Thomas the Beacon of Children Everywhere to abruptly cast up your entire life story to you and to read it for filth, telling you the merciless truth about yourself in a way that the other engines pieced together but with which they probably never hit you deadass between the eyes.

Of course, this doesn't mean the would-be punks and malcontents who get onto Sodor are instantly cured, lol (though it has gone down that way a few times—my alternate version of Billy's intro story would feature an end where he's just gobsmacked into submission). Sometimes it just means you are going to decide Thomas is your Hated Enemy for Life, but you know what? You will have to step up your game in order to compete with him or even to gain enough clout to try and sabotage him so you're still playing into his hand (if we accept TVS's idea that 'Devious Diesel' did become a part of the Sodor family, I think this is how he was successfully integrated. At some point Thomas unexpectedly read him the riot act and Diesel was like 'who the FUCK are you?? like i know i already had beef with all the main line engines but where the hell did YOU come from???' but then after decades of competition they are essentially frenemies). But mostly the thing is, you are shell-shocked for just long enough, and you'd probably shift to being a bigger asshole than before... but, during that period where you're still burned, you are also looking at all of Sodor and every engine on it with fresh eyes (because if Thomas the Merchandise Engine could ream you out like that, perhaps you underestimated everything about this place). And you are noticing something else. Once Thomas has scalded you with his bitchery, he's also your friend. It's almost his version of sharing his lunch with you on the playground. (Something something salt and vinegar.) For all he rode Henry so hard from some of the earliest days of canon, I bet you he also beat down any 'outsiders' who took shots at him. For all he and Percy squabble, they are the closest of friends (and they weren't! for decades! but the more they squabbled, the closer they got). Getting into a knock-down fistfight is alarmingly close to Thomas's love language, and by the time he's savaged you verbally he is also invested in you. Once he's told you what he really thinks of you, he's also going to start showing up for you genuinely.

And that's when the little shits see the final side of Thomas. The genuine good humor. Obviously it doesn't win over everyone but there is a real groundedness and humility that I am sure Thomas can show (I tried to show this in the fic I made with @shinygoku based off their artwork of Thomas and Daisy) that is hard to resist. He's also fucked up along the way in every way imaginable so even when he side-eyes you, he's not looking down at you. I can just see him showing screw-ups a lot of grace so long as they let down their guard even somewhat because he's been there. Hoo boy, has he been there. That's why kids actually love him (it's not your vocabulary lessons and beaming smile, Thom, though the effort is appreciated), and it's why young engines can wind up loving him too. He doesn't hold what you've done in the past against you; he genuinely believes in second chances (and third, and...). Plus he knows every engine needs some excitement and responsibility in their lives. He has never forgotten the insanity-inducing frustration of being tethered to Vicarstown station.

Basically, once you cut past Thomas's earnest (and bullshit) attempt to be Perfect Kids' Role Model, he's actually always been great at keeping it real. And that's where a genuine respect can often grow.

#long post #ttte #the railway series #ttte analysis #ttte headcanon #ttte plot inspiration #ttte multiple characters #i'm out of steam #so as usual i'm gonna screw over everyone but the first six <3 #i mean rws actually shows us how toby and all the little westerners do this sort of thing #(which i think is a big part of why they feel so well-developed and intriguing)#it's just that tvs didn't really show them any love at all so it didn't carry over #but we know toby's approach from when mavis arrives #(not sure we're ready to have a real conversation about toby and mavis actually)#and we know how the little westerners do mentorship #as in oliver doesn't and the other three just try to keep him alive lol #and ofc toad actually does most of the work but i can't tackle the rolling stock right now #pragmatic sharp-tongued donald is the most buffers-off of the whole lot #but when he does give a word of advice it's always sound #and taken all the more seriously because it's so rare #douglas doesn't feel he's qualified to preach haha he's action only but ofc that's a language as well #i think FutureRust's 'The Bargain' portrayed that dynamic amazingly #esp in how she has duck and donald respectively look after others #in other 'as usuals' from jobey haha we'll end this with a shameless plug for some fic or another and tonight it's that one #maybe i should have included links to my own stuff in this but i'm too tired off it goes as is

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