#I love this book so very much and I will be crying about it tonight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

f14fun · 4 months ago

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big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 2

synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories

smau + prose (5.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | prev | next ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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a little over a week later, on march 24...

yourusername:

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 211,009 others

yourusername: thx babe 🧡

view comments

oscarpiastri: np honey 🧡

user1: aight what is this sudden new development 😀

user1: i mean i'm NOT complaining but YOU SIR better take care of our pookie dookie wookie y/n 🧐🫵🏽

oscarpiastri: got it, got it 😁😁🫣

user2: girl you got him blushing and shiii-

user3: omg i saw her today at the melborne gp and she was so nice to me! like i'm not familiar with who she is really (i'm new to the wonderful world of mawmaw y/n!), but i just know she will be the perfect wag <3

user3: like she saw me struggling with my lanyard, wine, and duffle bag, and offered to literally hold all three, i love her so much

user3: and her outfits are literally so cute, oscar, you chose the right one!

liked by oscarpiastri

user4: omg SHE'S REPPING THE ORANGE HEART #teampapaya

user5: y/nscar, my mawmaw and pawpaw 😘😽💋

user6: like i know they are not official official, but these soft launches gotta stoppp, just hard launch already

user7: girl is he good in bed

user7: please please please give deets, ily!

user8: fam you mad weird for that one

user9: please for the love of god respect their privacy

liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

oscarpiastri: ready for date night 2 night?

yourusername: always ready for u 💗

user10: the BLATANT FLIRTING NAHHH

user11: imagine if this is all one big fat skit i'm actually going to scream cry throwup kms

landonorris: so nice to meet you today, love a girl who finally makes oscar stfu

yourusername: LMAOO 😭😭 it was a please lando

oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄

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I was in fact, not alright.

It had been little over a year since I had been on an actual date (not counting the instances where I went over to a guy's house for some ramen, and all of a sudden that was the date) Used to all these low effort, casual efforts at being romantic, I was suddenly hit with the prospect of an actual man who wanted to treat me with respect.

Oscar Piastri.

The man who I idolized as I grew up, always admiring his grit and courage from afar.

And this hardworking man wanted to take me out on a date. For real.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to calm the flurry of nerves that churned within me. I smoothed my champagne white colored dress and straightened my Cult Gaia necklace. Oscar had only asked of one thing of me tonight, which was to either wear white or beige.

My heart pounded relentlessly, a drumbeat of anticipation and anxiety. It wasn't just any date; it was a date with Oscar Piastri. The very thought sent my mind spiraling. How did I, of all people, end up here? (answer: being chronically online did)

Every interaction with Oscar had been a mixture of awe and admiration. I remembered the first time I saw him race, the way he navigated the track with unparalleled skill and determination. He wasn't just a driver; he was a force of nature, a symbol of relentless ambition and hard work. And now, here I was, about to go on a date with him.

Even though he got fourth at his home race today, I was extremely proud of him. Both as a fan, and quite possibly, his girlfriend by the end of the night (the delusional girl in me said the last part, clearly).

When he had dm'd me privately after tweeting publicly he would like to take me out, I remember completely blanking. I nearly blacked out when he insisted on calling to go over the nitty gritty details of everything with me.

From flying me out, to booking my hotel and making sure my stay in Melbourne was as comfortable as possible, I was feeling a swirl of new emotions. Sure, life was going fast, but I liked this pace. Especially if Oscar could be beside me whilst life passed us by.

Balancing my studies at the prestigious university I attended and my growing presence as a vlogger had never been easy. My days were a blur of lectures, assignments, and shooting content for YouTube and various brand sponsorships. I had started with simple vlogs, but over time, my content had evolved into elaborate video essays on various topics, from Formula 1 analysis to a break down on the world's current events, both in pop culture and politics.

My followers had grown steadily, and so had the demands on my time.

Yet, despite the chaos, I had always found solace in my passion for vlogging. It was my creative outlet, a way to connect with people who shared my interests. My video essays, in particular, had garnered a lot of attention. They were meticulously researched, edited with care, and infused with my personal touch. The positive feedback I received made all the sleepless nights worth it.

But tonight, I wasn't thinking about the next video essay or the pile of coursework waiting for me. Tonight, I was focused on one thing: Oscar.

I had documented my journey to Melbourne in a vlog, capturing every moment from the airport, to the breathtaking view from my hotel room, to the race in Melbourne as well.

My followers were eagerly anticipating the next installment, but for now, they would have to wait. This was my time, a rare moment to step out from behind the camera and live in the present.

As I made my way to the lobby to meet Oscar, my phone buzzed with notifications. Messages of encouragement from friends and comments from my followers flooded in, but I silenced them. Tonight was about more than just content; it was about experiencing something real.

Exhaling as the elevator door slowly opened, the incessant ringing of jazz music seemed to warp and slow as I made eye contact with Oscar from across the lobby. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with his cufflinks.

Earlier in the day, we couldn't see each other, as media duties for the both of us consumed our time. So here we were, for the first time, meeting each other in person.

He was much taller in person than I had actually expected.

It was one thing to see him plastered across a big screen and splattered across billboards in New York City, but it was another to see this man in all his glory, in the flesh.

His shoulders seemed to broaden as I approach him, and a million thoughts were swirling in my mind. I just hoped the same million thoughts were swirling in his mind as well.

His fluffy brown hair looked newly tousled with, but not to the point where it looked terribly unruly. He looked human, with that crooked smile, and his eyes folded into little half moons—like parenthesis—he was happy to see me. As I was too.

All eloquence, sense of being, and peace of mind disappeared in an instant. Mouth slightly gapping widely, I was at a loss of words for once in my life.

Oscar Piastri is beautiful.

We simultaneously reached out for a hug, our laughter breaking the awkward silence that had settled upon us as we sized each other up for the first time. The hug was amazing, enveloping me in a warmth that felt almost surreal.

His arms wrapped around me with a gentle firmness, and I felt a sense of comfort and safety that I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was as if I had come home, even though we were standing in the middle of a bustling hotel lobby.

The hug lasted a little longer than usual, neither of us wanting to let go. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my own, and the scent of his cologne, fresh and slightly woody, filled my senses.

When I finally, reluctantly let go, his hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer, sending a shiver down my spine. The touch was intimate and unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of the connection we both felt.

As his hand finally released its gentle hold, I felt butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. My cheeks warmed, a blush creeping up as I tried to steady my breathing. I glanced up at him and saw that he was blushing a little bit too, his cheeks tinged with a soft pink.

His bashful smile mirrored my own feelings, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, we both knew this was the start of something special.

Oscar cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "I, uh, got something for you," he said, his voice tinged with nerves.

He flipped the bag he was holding around, and I could see the words Valentino sprawled across it. I gasped, my eyes widening in surprise.

"Oscar, you didn't," I whispered, my heart racing even faster.

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure which one you wanted, so I got both," he admitted, looking sheepish yet proud. "One in red and one in blue."

I was completely floored. "Oscar, this is… wow," I stammered, at a loss for words. I had never expected such a grand gesture, especially not on our first date. It was one thing to admire him from afar, but to have him go to such lengths for me was overwhelming.

He shifted slightly, his nervousness palpable. "I just wanted to do something special for you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine. "You deserve it."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "This means so much to me."

He smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made my heart swell. "I'm glad you like it," he said, stepping closer. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."

I looked down at the beautifully crafted bags, my fingers tracing the elegant lettering of Valentino. Each bag represented more than just a luxury item; it was a symbol of his consideration and effort. It was clear that he had put thought into this, wanting to make a good impression and show that he cared.

"I can't believe you did all this," I murmured, still in awe. "It's… beyond anything I could have imagined."

He took a deep breath, his confidence growing slightly as he saw my reaction. "You deserve to be treated well," he said, his voice firm. "And I wanted to make sure you knew that."

The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you," I repeated, my heart swelling with affection. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he replied, his hand gently brushing against mine. "Just enjoy the evening."

As we stood there, the world around us seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just the two of us, sharing something special and unforgettable. And for the first time in a long while, I felt truly cherished.

"I feel like I'm dreaming," I confessed, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "This is all so surreal."

Oscar's eyes softened as he took my hand in his. "It's real, Y/N. And it's just the beginning."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my cheeks flush. The thought that this was just the start of something more was both thrilling and terrifying. But as I looked into his eyes, I felt a sense of reassurance.

"Let's make tonight memorable," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand.

I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Absolutely."

With a gentle squeeze of my hand, he led me out of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cool and refreshing, and as we walked towards his black McLaren that was waiting for us, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Oscar had gone above and beyond to make this night special, and I was determined to cherish every moment.

As we approached the car, Oscar immediately took the initiative to ensure everything was perfect for me. He opened the passenger door and motioned for me to sit down, but not before adjusting the seat settings. He carefully moved the seat forward and tilted it slightly to match my height, ensuring I would be comfortable during the ride.

"Is the seat okay?" he asked, looking at me with genuine concern.

I nodded, already feeling the comfort of the perfectly adjusted seat. But he wasn't done yet. He leaned in and adjusted the air conditioning, making sure it wasn't too chilly. "I know it can get a bit cold sometimes," he said with a small smile, "so I set it to a warmer temperature."

I smiled back, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, he turned his attention to my belongings. Gently taking the old bag I had brought with me, he began transferring my items into the new red Valentino bag he had gifted me. He was meticulous, making sure that nothing was left behind and that everything was placed neatly in the new bag.

"Here, let me help you with this," he said softly, his hands moving deftly as he organized my things.

Watching him, I felt a warmth spread through me. He wasn't just being thoughtful; he was showing me that he cared about every little detail, making sure that I felt special and valued.

Once he had finished, he handed me the new bag, his eyes shining with pride. "There you go," he said, his voice gentle. "Everything's all set."

I took the bag from him, my fingers brushing against his for a moment. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "You didn't have to do all this."

He shrugged modestly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to," he replied simply. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

And as he closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his kindness and attention to detail. Oscar Piastri was proving to be more than just a racing legend; he was a gentleman, someone who cared deeply and went out of his way to make me feel cherished.

Oscar didn't act like an immature, twenty-three year old boy, like some people made him out to be. Unlike the bummy guys I had known and casually dated before, this was a step up.

He maneuvered the car with ease, backing up with one hand on the steering wheel while his other arm rested casually on the back of my seat. I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles shifted and tensed underneath his white collared shirt, the fabric stretching slightly over his broad shoulders. It was impossible not to find it incredibly attractive. My cheeks heated up, a blush spreading across my face. Oscar noticed and turned to look at me, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Are you blushing?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, no...I mean, maybe a little." I laughed nervously, trying to brush it off, but the warmth in my cheeks only intensified.

He chuckled, a soft, bashful sound, and I noticed a faint blush creeping up his own neck. "I guess we're both a bit flustered tonight," he admitted, glancing back at the road. The air between us felt charged with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

As we settled into the drive, the initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable silence. I watched the city lights blur past us, the rhythm of the car soothing my nerves. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, Oscar took a deep breath and broke the silence. "You know, there's a lot of pressure in Formula 1," he said, his voice thoughtful. "It's not just about the races. There's so much that goes on behind the scenes—training, media obligations, sponsorships. It can be overwhelming sometimes. But having someone like you here tonight, it makes it all feel worth it."

I smiled, touched by his openness. "I can only imagine how tough it must be," I replied. "Balancing my studies and vlogging is already a handful. There are days when it feels like I'm barely keeping up with everything. But tonight...I'm really grateful to be here with you."

He glanced over at me, his eyes soft and understanding. "Sounds like we both have a lot on our plates," he said. "But maybe tonight, we can just focus on ourselves and leave all those distractions behind."

"Agreed," I said, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Tonight is just about us."

We exchanged smiles, a silent agreement to make the most of this evening and cherish the time we had together. The city lights blurred past us as we drove on, the world outside fading into the background as we found solace in each other's company. The pressures of our respective worlds felt miles away, replaced by a shared sense of tranquility and excitement for what the night had in store.

The McLaren navigated smoothly through the city streets, and with each passing moment, I found myself more captivated by Oscar's presence. His occasional sideways glances and the genuine interest he showed in our conversation made me feel seen and appreciated in a way I hadn't experienced before. It was refreshing to connect with someone on such a deep level, especially amidst our busy lives.

"I've always admired your dedication to racing," I said, breaking the silence that had settled comfortably between us. "It must take an incredible amount of discipline."

Oscar smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you," he replied sincerely. "It's my passion, but it's also a demanding profession. Every race, every decision matters. It's a constant balancing act, trying to perform at your best while managing everything else."

"I can relate," I admitted with a small laugh. "Trying to balance university assignments, vlogging, and now, this unexpected but wonderful evening—it's a lot to juggle."

He nodded thoughtfully. "You're doing an amazing job," he reassured me. "Not many people can handle all of that with such grace."

The compliment warmed my heart, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards him. "Thank you, Oscar. And for what it's worth, I think you handle the pressures of Formula 1 admirably."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The city lights cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the earnestness in his expression. "I appreciate that," he said softly. "Having you here tonight, it's a reminder of why I do what I do."

A comfortable silence settled between us once more, filled with unspoken understanding and a growing connection. The air inside the car was charged with an undeniable chemistry, a magnetic pull that drew us closer with each passing minute. It was a rare and precious moment, where time seemed to slow down, allowing us to savor each other's company without the weight of responsibilities and expectations.

Oscar glanced at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face, "if you keep blushing like that, I'm going to think you're a better driver than me."

I laughed, my cheeks still warm. "Oh please, you know I'm terrible with directions. I'd probably get us lost before we even reach the restaurant."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, don't worry, I'll be your GPS for the night. Just don't expect me to be as reliable as my car on the track."

At a stoplight, he turned to look at me, and to my surprise, he brushed a loose strand of my hair away from my face to the back of my head. Holding my chin, he smiled, and a small smirk blossomed across his face.

Imagine my shock horror when I started blushing again. It felt like that one Grey's Anatomy episode where a girl wouldn't stop blushing, and got surgery to treat her incessant blushing.

Yes, I really felt like Kelly Roesch every time I was around Oscar.

"Y/N, do I really make you blush that much?" Oscar smirked and looked forward, as the light had changed back to green. Pressing the gas pedal, he sped off, and I let out a gasp from how fast the car was going.

Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, maybe I am blushing, what about it?" I dared to challenge playfully, immediately regretting my boldness and the sudden surge of moxie.

Oscar turned to look at me, his smile widening. "You're adorable when you blush," he remarked, his tone warm and affectionate.

Embarrassment tinged with delight colored my cheeks even more. "Well, you have that effect on me," I confessed, feeling a rush of courage.

He chuckled softly. "Good to know," he teased gently, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before returning to the road.

The playful banter eased the tension between us, infusing the car with a light, flirtatious energy. As we continued driving through the city streets, our conversation flowed effortlessly, alternating between laughter and more serious topics.

Oscar shared anecdotes from his racing career, injecting humor into tales of close calls and victories, while I recounted memorable vlogging experiences and the challenges of managing a demanding schedule.

Each exchange deepened our connection, fostering a sense of mutual understanding and admiration. There was an unspoken chemistry between us, a magnetic pull that grew stronger with every shared laugh and meaningful glance. I

t was as if we had known each other for much longer than just this evening, our bond forged in the shared pursuit of passion and ambition.

By the time we arrived at the restaurant, the initial nervousness had transformed into a comfortable familiarity. Oscar held the car door open for me with a gallant smile, his gestures both chivalrous and endearing.

As we walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that brought us here.

When we arrived at the front entrance of the restaurant, I was once again struck by the thoughtfulness of his choices. The place was elegant yet intimate, with a cozy ambiance that made me feel instantly at ease.

Oscar had clearly put a lot of thought into every detail, and it was impossible not to be touched by his efforts.

As we sat down, I couldn't help but smile at him. "You really went all out, didn't you?" I teased gently.

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Only the best for you."

I blushed, feeling the warmth of his words wash over me. "Thank you, Oscar. For everything."

"You're worth it," he said simply, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, I knew that this was more than just a date. It was the beginning of something beautiful, something that had the potential to grow into a deep and meaningful connection.

And as the night unfolded, filled with laughter, conversation, and a shared sense of excitement, I realized that I was ready to embrace it wholeheartedly.

As we settled into our seats at the cozy restaurant, the atmosphere around us seemed to hum with a quiet energy. Oscar and I exchanged glances, a knowing smile playing on both our lips, as if silently acknowledging the unspoken tension between us.

"So, Y/N," Oscar began, his voice low and playful, "tell me more about your vlogging. Any juicy behind-the-scenes stories?"

I chuckled, stirring my drink slightly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Endless editing sessions, occasional tech disasters. But it's all worth it when I get to share something meaningful with my followers."

"Sounds like a lot of work," he mused, his gaze lingering on mine. "But I bet you enjoy every minute of it."

"Most of the time," I admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at his attentiveness.

As I settled into recounting the tea ceremony mishap, I couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, though at the time, it had been far from funny. "So, there I was, kneeling beside this beautifully arranged tea set," I began, gesturing animatedly with my hands. "The camera was perfectly positioned to capture this serene moment. I was about to take a sip of the freshly brewed tea when suddenly, the tripod leg gave way."

Oscar leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me with rapt attention. "No way," he interjected, clearly intrigued.

"Yes way," I confirmed with a laugh. "And in that split second, everything descended into chaos. The camera toppled over, knocking into the low table where the tea set was displayed. Cups shattered, tea leaves scattered everywhere, and I, in a desperate attempt to catch the camera, managed to knock over a delicate vase of flowers."

Oscar's laughter filled the air, a genuine and infectious sound that made me smile even wider. "You must have been in shock," he remarked, shaking his head in amusement.

"I was," I admitted, recalling the moment vividly. "But somehow, amidst the chaos, I kept rolling. I think I was in such disbelief that I just kept filming, capturing the aftermath of the disaster. Tea leaves floating in the air, water dripping from the overturned vase—it was a scene straight out of a comedy."

"And your viewers got to witness it all?" Oscar asked, still chuckling.

"Oh, they did," I confirmed, a grin spreading across my face. "And surprisingly, they loved it. I received so many comments about how refreshing it was to see the behind-the-scenes reality, even if it meant watching me fumble through a tea ceremony."

Oscar nodded thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair. "It just goes to show," he mused, "sometimes the unplanned moments make the best stories."

"Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned forward, ready to share tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Well, there was this one time in Australia," he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "During one of my rookie years, I had a near-miss with a kangaroo. It came out of nowhere, right in the middle of the track. I had to swerve so hard I thought I'd end up in the barriers."

I gasped, eyes wide. "A kangaroo? Seriously? Only you would have an experience like that!"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Yep, only in Australia, right? But that wasn't the end of it. The kangaroo didn't just stay on the track. It jumped over the barriers and ended up in the audience. People were screaming and trying to get out of its way. It was pure chaos."

"Oh my God," I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"No, thankfully," Oscar replied, his eyes twinkling. "Security managed to corral the kangaroo and get it to safety. But it was definitely one of the most chaotic moments I've ever experienced on the track. The race had to be stopped for a few minutes until everything was under control.

The whole time, I was just sitting in my car, watching this kangaroo cause mayhem and thinking, 'Is this really happening?'"

I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image. "I can't believe it. That's insane. Did they ever find out how the kangaroo got there in the first place?"

Oscar shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. "No idea. It was one of those freak occurrences. But it definitely made for an unforgettable race. Every time I go back to that track, I half expect to see another kangaroo waiting to jump out."

I giggled, feeling a warm connection building between us. "Well, I hope not. One near-miss with a kangaroo is more than enough for a lifetime."

He nodded in agreement, his smile broadening. "Yeah, definitely. But hey, it makes for a great story to tell on a first date, right?"

I blushed at his words, realizing just how special this evening was becoming. "Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of other dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward, ready to share more tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Oh, I have plenty," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "There was this one time when..."

As he launched into another story, I couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly we were connecting, each story weaving us closer together in this unexpected evening of laughter and shared experiences. The initial awkwardness had completely dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and camaraderie that felt both exciting and natural.

"You have some pretty wild stories," I said, still marveling at the idea of a kangaroo on the track. "I can't imagine how you keep your cool in situations like that."

He shrugged, a modest smile playing on his lips. "You get used to it, I guess. Racing teaches you to expect the unexpected. But it's not always as dramatic as dodging wildlife. Sometimes it's the little things that make a big difference, like dealing with sudden changes in weather or handling a tricky pit stop."

I leaned in, fascinated. "Tell me more about the pit stops. They always seem so intense on TV."

Oscar's eyes lit up as he delved into the intricacies of pit stops, explaining how every second counts and how the coordination between the driver and the crew is crucial. "It's a lot of pressure," he admitted, "but when it goes smoothly, it's one of the most satisfying parts of the race."

I nodded, absorbing every word. "It sounds like such a team effort. I never realized how much went into it."

"Exactly," he said, clearly pleased by my interest. "It's one of the things I love most about racing—the teamwork and the camaraderie. Everyone has to be at their best for the team to succeed."

We continued to share stories, the conversation flowing easily. I told him about my vlogging adventures, from the hilarious mishaps to the rewarding moments when a video resonated with my audience. Oscar listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and laughing at my anecdotes.

As the night grew later, the atmosphere around us became more intimate. We moved closer, our shoulders almost touching. The moonlight glimmered off the water, casting a soft glow on Oscar’s face.

"That sounds amazing," he said, his voice low and warm, his Australian accent adding a melodic lilt that sent shivers down my spine. Every word he spoke seemed to resonate deep within me, his low vibrato giving me butterflies.

I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Thanks. It's not always easy, but it's definitely worth it."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was light, almost tentative. "I can tell," he said softly, his accent making each syllable feel like a caress. "Your eyes light up when you talk about it."

My heart skipped a beat as his hand lingered on my cheek. He leaned in, and before I could fully process what was happening, his lips brushed against my cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.

"You’re really something, you know that?" he murmured, his lips close to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine, his accent making the words even more intoxicating.

I felt my cheeks flush, a smile spreading across my face. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The way his accent rolled off his tongue was doing things to me I hadn't anticipated.

Oscar’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, "I've been wanting to kiss you all evening." His accent made the confession sound even more alluring.

"Is that so?" I asked, my voice playful yet breathless. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering wildly.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Absolutely. You’ve been driving me crazy with that smile of yours," he said, his accent making the words feel even more intimate and personal.

I laughed softly, feeling a mixture of flattery and nervous excitement. "Well, I guess I'm guilty as charged."

He leaned in closer, his lips now brushing against my ear. "Maybe we should make a habit of this. I like seeing you happy," he whispered, his accent sending delicious shivers down my spine.

My heart raced as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "You’re pretty good at making that happen," I admitted, feeling a surge of boldness. The way his voice, with its rich accent, played over my senses made me feel something stirring inside.

Oscar’s grin widened, and he reached for my hand. "Follow me," he said, his voice filled with playful promise. His touch was electric, sending a thrill through me as I placed my hand in his.

"Where are we headed to next?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. I was clearly blushing and super happy, unable to hide my excitement.

Oscar’s smile widened. "A yacht," he said simply, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

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yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes and 220,018 others

yourusername: finally, date night!

view comments

user1: i'm going to totally pretend that your now "chill" caption truly encapsulates how you are feeling (you were freaking out on priv earlier)

oscarpiastri: priv??! let me follow the account @/yourusername

yourusername: priv... what are you talking about i don't have a priv

oscarpiastri: 🧐🫵🏻

francisca.cgomes: what a beautiful girl 💋💋

yourusername: you're talking! babe you ae so beautiful as well 💋

oscarpiastri: are you flirting with my girl @/francisca.gcomes???

user2: MY GIRL SJIJSJORJDSS

user3: that's so alpha male of you oscar

yourusername: so what if she is 🙄

oscarpiastri: i've had her for less than a day let gooo 😥

francisca.cgomes: idc 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: children please stop fighting

pierregasly: @/francisca.cgomes ... babe what about me

user4: LMAO KIKA NOT ANSWERING BAHAHA

user5: mawmaw yi pawpaw

liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

user6: guys i just happened to be at the same resturaunt as them tonight bc of a family dinner and let me tell YOUUU, they were so flirty with each other omg. like i sat at the table adjacent to their left so i got a birds eye view of all of the blushing. like he kept intentionaly touching her hand and stuff it was so cute 😵‍💫🫠🥰

user7: landonorizz you got some competition @/landonorris

user8: yeah lando, i fear oscar may have more rizz than you

landonorris: 🙄👊🏼

user9: call him, oscarizz...?

user10: 💀💀 nahh that didn't hit LMAO

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 628,100 others

oscarpiastri: i took her to my penthouse and i freaked it

view comments:

yourusername: NO OSCAR THE CAPTION 😥😥😥

yourusername: HE DOESN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

yourusername: OSCAR AND I DIDN'T FUCK

oscarpiastri: exactly, a gentleman never does such thing on a first date

yourusername: WHY IS THAT YOUR CAPTION NOOOO

oscarpiastri: people are not misunderstanding 🫷🏻🫸🏻

yourusername: OSCAR THEY ARE MISUNDERSTANDING IN THE COMMENTS

yourusername: I DID NOT DO SUCH DEED

user1: i love how y/n is literally freaking tf out and oscar is chill

user2: LMAO i can just see the cartoon silly steam leaking from her ears everytime oscar does anything

user3: god i don't even know if i want to be her or oscar

user4: i choose both.

user5: THEY FUCKED??? 😡😡🤬🤯🤯🤯😰😰😰😰🫨🫨🫨🤐

user6: oscar MY MAN the caption feels a little... sus

user7: had to clean my glasses to reread the caption

user7: because y/n's beauty was genuinely blinding me

user8: aight oscar who wrote that caption 😵😵

user9: ignoring the weird??! caption, they look SOOO CUTE UGH

yourusername: TYSMMMM <3 (pls ignore the weirdass caption yes, yes pls do that)

user10: LMAO

charles_leclerc: ...

oscarpiastri: father, please look away

yourusername: oh!- so NOW your embarassed

charles_leclerc: sending a screenshot of the caption to your mother brb

oscarpiastri: i hope you are reffering to alex

charles_leclerc: no, i definitely mean nicole

oscarpiastri: DELETE DELETE DELETE

logansargeant: bro your cooked

charles_leclerc: "OSCAR JACK PIASTRI" - what your mom said, she said it, not me

charles_leclerc: "HAVE SOME MORE DECORUM YOUNG MAN" - nicole

charles_leclerc: "TREAT A LADY WITH RESPECT"

oscarpiastri: ma'am yes ma'am 🫡🫡🫡

yourusername: god i love your mom @/oscarpiastri

yourusername: ty for doing me a service 🙏🏼🙌🏼 @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: no problem, a future leclerc-piastri deserves the best 🫡

charles_leclerc: (you better wife her up)

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oscarpiastri posted on his story

caption: i finally got my dream girl her dream bags 🫶🏻❤️🧡💙

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 (part THREE yay or nay?!)

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alvojake · 5 months ago

Text

It'll be Alright | P.SH

「pairing」 : bf!sunghoon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 0.9k

「synopsis」 : just when the world seems to be crumbling around you, sunghoon comes to remind you that it'll all be alright.

「genre」 : fluff & comfort

「warnings」 : mentions of mental health issues, petnames (love, my love, princess, beautiful, pretty girl...), very fluffy, I believe that's about it

「notes」 : this is for my hazey love (@pockettwinzz) because I know she needs a little bit of comfort right about now. I love you bby and I hope you enjoy this small fic and find some comfort in it <3

You sat in the middle of your bed, tears building up on your waterline as you tried to distract yourself. Everything seemed to be against you tonight, your mind being the number one adversary. The little voices in the back of your mind tried their damnedest to make you believe that you weren't good enough.

The dark cloud fogged all of your other thoughts, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Your hands trembled as you clutched the book in your lap, teardrops staining the pages. Blurring your vision made all of the words merge together until they were illegible.

"Dammit." you cursed quietly, dropping the book without a care to mark where you had left off. Hands moved up to try and clear some of the tears, but it was futile as more just replaced those you wiped away. Growing frustrated, a broken, defeated sob fell from your lips as you dropped your hands to your lap.

"y/n? Love?" his voice broke through the silence that filled your room, followed by a soft knock on your bedroom door.

You barely had a moment to react as he started to open the door, grabbing your blanket and throwing it over your head, hoping to hide your tears.

However, as soon as sunghoon looked into your dimly lit room and saw you huddled under that blanket, he knew something was wrong. Your small sniffles only further confirm his suspicions.

"What are you doing under there, princess?" he spoke softly, setting down the bag of snacks on your dresser before moving over to your bed. Holding your breath, you didn't make a sound as he sat down in front of you.

Sunghoon's eyes softened as he saw your shoulders trembling slightly as you tried to control your tears. Exhaling softly, he reached forward to grab the edge of the blanket, waiting to see if you'd show any sign of resistance. Once you didn't, he started to unfold the blanket until your teary eyes were revealed to him.

"Hey, beautiful." he smiled softly, his tone far too sweet for you to handle. More tears fell from your eyes as you unfolded your legs before moving forward to bury your face in his chest, sobs racking your body.

Sunghoon didn't say a word as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you into his lap. His heart broke listening to the sounds of your cries, but he knew it was better for you to let it all out instead of holding it in. so he let you cry.

Running his fingers through your hair soothingly while his other lay on the small of your back, fingers tracing small shapes on the exposed skin. He hummed softly, his body rocking yours softly until your sobs died down and you were just lying in his arms, small sniffles being the only sound you made.

Pulling away, you averted your gaze, far too embarrassed to meet his soft gaze. Fingers fiddling with his shirt, you opened your mouth, the start of an apology falling from your lips, but sunghoon was quick to silence you. he pressed his lips to your forehead, causing your breath to hitch, tears brimming in your eyes once more.

"Don't you dare apologize, my love." he pulled away, trying to get you to meet his eyes. After a few seconds, you finally lifted your head, allowing him to see your tear-stained face. He felt his heart jolt in pain, seeing how bloodshot your eyes were, the redness only making the color of your irises stand out more.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked, hand still rubbing your back gently while his other pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your lips curled inward as you thought about what was bugging you, but it felt too embarrassing to tell him. So you shook your head softly, eyes moving to break eye contact.

Sunghoon nodded, assuring you that it was okay to not talk about it. His thumb coming up to wipe the excess tears that were sitting under your eye.

"You look exhausted, my love; let's just sleep. We can worry about everything else tomorrow." he offered you a gentle smile as you met his gaze once more.

Nodding slightly, you clamber off of his lap and further up into the bed. Following after you, sunghoon grabbed the discarded book before setting it on the nightstand and crawling under the covers with you.

Laying down, he was quick to pull you back into his chest, not wanting to leave any space between your bodies. You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest once more. Sighing contently, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before laying his head down on his arm.

"I love you so much, princess, so so much," he whispered quietly, his hold tightening on your body, scared that you would slip from his fingers.

"I love you too, Hoon." Your voice was hoarse and quiet, but he heard it nonetheless, causing a small smile to spread on his lips.

sunghoon then closed his eyes, not caring to turn off the bedside lamp, allowing the warm light to illuminate the room. He hummed a tune that had been stuck in his head softly, and he eventually lulled you to sleep.

Sensing that you had fallen asleep, he lifted his head, taking in your peaceful face. Your eyelashes lay against your flushed cheeks softly, and your lips parted just enough to allow you to breathe softly. He couldn't help but smile fondly at the sight, moving just enough to tuck another strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning forward, he pressed another soft, loving kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger for just a moment.

"It'll be okay, my pretty girl; everything will be okay," he mumbled against your skin before laying back down, joining you in deep slumber.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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unsolved-duvall · 2 years ago

Text

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary you and eddie broke up because you were too scared to love him. so when you need someone and he's the only person you want to run to, what are you supposed to do? (4.8k)

warnings talk of a bad home situation, mentions of abuse, references to mental health, anxiety, crying, very subtle mention of a panic attack, angst i suppose?, fluff, smut, kissing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), lots of feelings. i have probably missed something i'm so sorry <3

The downpour of rain beat down against the windows of your car and was almost loud enough to drown out the myriad of thoughts that were swirling around your mind.

You didn’t know why you were here.

That was a lie, you knew exactly why you were there. It was because this was the only place you could think to go. And Eddie was the only person you felt safe with. Never mind the fact that you had broken up last month. You had been the one to break up with him.

But tonight every emotion you were feeling felt too overwhelming. The sadness and anxiety that you could normally let go of seemed to consume your every thought, washing over you like a wave until they drowned you. Of course, it didn’t help that the only sounds around to drown out your thoughts were those of a not-so-calming nature.

Your mom and her boyfriend had been fighting constantly. Screaming, shouting and harsh words became a sort of white noise in your household. You would listen with your door cracked open in case you needed to call for help. You felt an innate need to protect her, even from herself.

The fighting was so common that it rarely bothered you anymore, but tonight everything had gotten to be too much. It was non-stop, pushing you to the edge and causing you to get in your car and drive over here without thinking twice about it.

And now you were sitting in your car, fiddling with the necklace that hung delicately around your neck, before slipping it back underneath your jumper, letting the ring that hung from it hit your cold skin. And tried to figure out what the fuck you were thinking? What made you think he would even want to see you? You had broken his heart, he had told you that. And those words played on repeat in your head every day, like your own personal form of torture.

Eddie knew you didn’t have a great home life. It was why you practically lived with him and Wayne when you were still together. You had your own drawer full of clothes and your belongings were always dotted through the trailer. A book you were reading thrown on the sofa, your blanket folded over the back of a chair, or your toiletries in the bathroom next to Eddie’s.

You never spoke about the reason you were there so often. You didn’t need to. Eddie knew all too well what it felt like to live in that sort of environment, so you never needed to explain anything to him. When you would turn up at his door at midnight, tears streaming down your face and shaking hands clenched by your sides, he didn’t need you to tell him anything else. He pulled you into him and rested his head against yours and asked what you needed him to do.

You just needed to be with him.

So that became a sort of routine between the two of you. Eddie would wait for you each night, and when you would ultimately turn up in the early hours of the morning, almost no words would be exchanged between the two of you. Instead, you would walk to his bedroom and fall asleep next to him. He understood. He knew you were tired and didn’t feel safe falling asleep in your own home sometimes.

If simply letting you fall asleep curled up next to him was all you needed, he would do it until the end of time.

Until you let the guilt overwhelm you. Eddie deserved better, he didn’t deserve to be in a relationship where he felt like he had to protect you all the time. You could look after yourself, take care of yourself, you had done it for years until you met Eddie. But there was this nagging thought in the back of your mind that you were relying on Eddie too much, and would eventually hurt him in one way or another. The break-up was quick, you barely let him get a word in before you left him standing alone in his bedroom. Confused and heartbroken.

You left so quickly because you didn’t trust yourself not to change your mind if you looked at him any longer.

Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be knocking on his door right now. It was exactly why you should turn around and go home, instead of being in the one place you shouldn’t be. It was-

“Oh- hey,” Eddie stood in front of you, his hair falling in loose curls around his shoulders. He looked tired, unsurprising considering it was almost midnight, but still, it was an unnerving sight. His usual honey-thick smile was nowhere to be seen.

There was uncertainty flickering in his doe eyes. But he didn’t tear his gaze away from you for even a second.

“Hey um- fuck, okay I’m sorry I should-” your voice trembled as you fought to get the words out. The truth was you weren’t entirely sure what you should even say to him.

Do you apologise? Do you tell him what’s going on at home? Do you tell him that you feel like you haven't been able to breathe since you broke up?

You hadn’t realised how long it had been since you’d said anything, but you see Eddie raise his eyebrows, almost hidden behind his hair, and you stumble on your own feet, taking in a shaky breath and opening your mouth to say…something.

But nothing came out. So instead, Eddie said, “Look, why don’t you- shit, at least come inside, it’s too fucking cold to be standing out here.”

You nodded your head and he moved to the side to let you step into the warmth. You felt something heavy settle over your chest, being back here it was… it felt like home. The soft orange hue of the lamps lit up the rooms. The aroma of home-cooked food hit you and you remembered how many times Wayne would make sure there was a spare plate of food set aside for you, in case you turned up.

The TV was playing quietly with the soft murmurs of the dialogue, from the film he had clearly been watching, echoed through the trailer. You were pulled out of your thoughts by Eddie calling you over to the couch where he had already sat down again.

You considered telling him you had made a mistake, but your feet carried you over to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. You sat down on the other end of the couch, pulling your legs up and sitting with them crossed in front of you. Eddie watched your every move, taking in all of your little mannerisms he had missed so much.

“Are you…are you okay? I mean you used to come here if it got- you know if it got bad.” Eddie asked you, his eyes fixed back onto the TV the minute he started speaking to you again; almost as if he was afraid of what he would say if he kept looking at you.

“Yeah, they uh- I don’t fuckin’ know why they do this shit to themselves. They fight all the time, they’ve gotta be miserable.” you tried to sound as casual as you could, but even you could hear the distress your voice carried.

Eddie heard it too and it made his whole body tense up. He still wanted to fix everything for you. He still wanted to pull you into him and tell you everything would be okay.

“Yeah I know sweet-” he cut himself off before he could finish the word, but it made you feel close to tears nonetheless. Even after what had happened, he still immediately wanted to call you that. Fuck.

Eddie cleared his throat before he carried on speaking, clearly thinking over his choice of words. “I know but- you know they’re fully grown adults, you can’t…you have to let them sort their own shit out.”

“That’s my mom, Eddie-”

“I know, shit I know.” You swear you could almost see the way his eyes glazed over as his memories came flooding back to him. You didn’t know everything about his past, but he had told you enough.

“I just worry about her. He’s not a good guy, you know? But I couldn’t stay there tonight, and I know that makes me the worst fucking daughter but-”

“Hey, no. Don’t say shit like that.” his voice was harsher than it had been before, with a kind of authority to it that sent shivers running down your spine.

He still cared about you. Of course, he did. -

“You are not responsible for protecting your parents, that is their job. You are not a bad daughter, you’re a- shit, we’re still kids. We shouldn’t have to deal with all of that, it’s not fair.” you knew he was talking more about himself now, and that made it hurt even more. You being here, the reason you were here, brought up a lot of trauma for Eddie. But he would never outright admit that.

You turned to face Eddie, moving closer to him so your knees scraped his, and leaned against the back of the couch, resting your head on your hand. “Yeah, you’re right.” Eddie fiddled with one of his rings as he listened to you speak. You had to resist the urge to lean over and hold his hand in yours. “It’s not fair. But there’s nothing we can do, so…”

“So…here you are.”

“Here I am.”

There was a beat of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just…quiet, and relaxing. There was something unspoken exchanged between both of you. Some mutual understanding that right now wasn’t the time to talk about everything. Even though Eddie had a million questions for you, for now, he was happy enough to have you sit next to him again. Like you had done a million times before.

You leant back again, sinking into the couch cushion beneath you and let your eyes drift back to the TV. Eddie copied you, relaxing into the couch and resting his head against the back of it as you both sat in silence.

After ten minutes or so you couldn’t help but steal glances at Eddie every now and then. The light from the TV lit up his face, and from this close to him you could see the light freckles that dotted across his nose and underneath his eyes. His eyes were almost honey-brown in the orange hue of the room, and you could tell he had only washed his hair a few hours ago. His curls had a soft frizz to them and you missed how they felt between your fingers.

Your gaze moved down to where his hands were resting. You didn’t realise how much you could miss someone's touch. He always used to have one of his hands on you. Whether he was holding your hand, resting it on your leg or letting it run up and down your back as you lay next to him.

Soon enough the film ended and Eddie stood up to sort it out; you watched him and for a second you were sure he was going to ask you to leave.

But then he stood up from where he had been kneeling down next to the TV and sighed before saying, “Come on.”

“What- what are we doing?” you moved to sit up on the couch but didn’t stand up just yet.

Eddie looked around the room for a second as if he was gathering his thoughts before he lifted and dropped his shoulders in contemplation and said, “What we used to do. I’m not letting you go home tonight.”

You hesitated for a moment, “Well I can sleep on- on the couch.”

“If that’s what you want to do then that’s okay. But you don’t have to, you can sleep in my room. No expectations, nothing. I promise.” A subtle rosy flush coloured his cheeks whilst he spoke, and you bit back a smile at how even the mention of it had him nervous.

“No, yeah of course, um well thank- thank you.” You stood up and followed Eddie as he made his way to his room, turning off the lights as he went.

Before you had time to ask Eddie for clothes to sleep in he was handing you one of his t-shirts and a pair of your pyjama shorts you must have left there. “You can get changed in here, I’ll go to the bathroom.”

“Okay, thank you Eddie.” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. With Eddie out of the room, you took a second to gather yourself. You felt your heart start to race and your hands shake, a tell-tale sign that you were getting overwhelmed. Only this time you knew it would all be okay because Eddie would be back soon.

You changed into the clothes he had given you and you sat on top of his bed waiting for him to come back. Even though you knew you would be sleeping in his bed tonight it still felt somewhat presumptuous of you to get under the comforter already.

You heard movement from outside his room and sure enough, Eddie walked back through his bedroom door a moment later. He had a pair of boxers on and the same t-shirt he was wearing earlier.

You knew he always sleeps in just his boxers, but you also appreciated he probably left his t-shirt on out of respect.

The truth was you wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t leave it on. Feeling his skin pressed against yours used to ground you when nothing else could. But you supposed things couldn’t be the same anymore. Of course, they couldn’t.

Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neckline, you weren’t sure what had caught his attention at first, “You still wear it?”

What-

Oh.

The necklace. With his ring on it. He gave it to you after he had developed a habit of slipping his rings onto yours fingers whenever he got the chance. He gave you the necklace and his favourtie ring because then there would “always be a part of him with you.” Which was exactly why you still wore it.

“Oh um- yeah, I do. I’m sorry if that’s strange or…”

“No. No, it’s not weird.” you saw a pained expression paint his face before he smiled and turned around, facing away from you.

“Are you gonna get into bed or?” You could hear his signature smirk even if you couldn’t see him, his back was turned to you as he finished taking his rings off.

“Oh- yeah, okay. ‘M sorry-“

“You need to stop saying sorry, just act normal. This can be normal, right?” Eddie walked over to his bed and threw himself down under the covers, he was all long limbs and curly hair and for a second you didn’t know why the hell you had ever left him.

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say in response. It felt like he was giving you a chance to explain yourself. To tell him what was going on in your head.

“Yeah this can be normal” was you all could say. Because you did want this to be normal, but you needed to know what Eddie was thinking, so as you lay down next to him and stared up at the ceiling you said, “Do you hate me?”

“Do I- shit, why would I hate you?” you weren’t sure if the disbelief in his voice made you feel better or worse.

“I was an asshole.”

“You broke up with me, that doesn’t make you an asshole, that makes you a person who has her own thoughts and feelings. And makes her own decisions” Eddie’s voice didn’t carry much emotion. It was flat and monotone, and you had never heard him sound like that before.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be… I don’t know- annoyed with me for how I did it.”

“What? You came over, you told me you didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore and you left. What else were you meant to do? A break up’s a break-up.” you couldn’t see his face, both of your expressions shrouded in the darkness of the room.

“I shouldn’t have… I should have explained myself to you, but I was… I wasn’t doing good, you know? And I guess-”

“You fell out of love with me, it’s okay. It happens.”

His words hit you like a punch to the chest and your breath got caught in his throat as you processed his words. Fallen out of love? No. No, you could never fall out of love with him. You loved him too much. You loved him so much it terrified you. A stillness took over the room, and all you could hear was the ruffling of the sheets as Eddie turned over, muttering a reluctant good night under his breath.

You didn’t want to push any boundaries he was clearly putting up between the two of you. You had hurt him and you knew he was only protecting himself. But it killed you nevertheless. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and blinked back tears. Turning over to fall asleep, in the same bed you had done so many times, except this time you weren’t curled into his side with his arms wrapped around you.

A few hours had passed and although you were trying, you couldn’t let yourself drift off to sleep. You lay in complete silence and let your thoughts ruin any chance of you getting a peaceful night. Eddie was asleep, you thought he was anyway. Just as you had decided to get out of bed and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water, you heard movement beside you.

“Are you okay?” Eddie. His voice was thick with sleep, deeper and rougher than it usually sounded, but a voice you were all too familiar with.

“Yeah ‘m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Eddie had turned onto his back now, waiting for an answer, and when you didn’ reply he simply said, “you only say you’re fine when you’re so far from it that it scares you.”

“I just can’t sleep, that's all.” you lay back down and hesitated for a moment before whispering, “I never fell out of love with you.”

You felt Eddie still next to you, and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears and your cheeks heating up.

“Oh.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I was so scared that- that we would end up being exactly the same as everyone around us. I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t-”

“You still love me?” you could hear the pain that laced his voice as he breathed out the words.

“Yes.”

The words sat heavy between the two of you, the room was still dark, almost pitch black, but a lone streetlamp from outside allowed a slither of orange light to screep through the space between the blinds, allowing you to see Eddie’s face. His eyes cut to yours when he said, “Then why did you do it?”

If your heart wasn’t already in pieces then Eddie had just made sure of it. His voice was soft, as if he was afraid of the answer.

“Because what if we turn into our parents.”

“Oh, sweetheart-”

You were crying. Silent tears that fell down your face, pooled in the corner of your eyes and stained your cheeks with the reminder that you couldn’t trust yourself to love someone in fear of hurting them. Eddie didn’t cry, but that was because he had cried so much after you had ended things with him that he didn’t have the energy left to cry now; although hearing your breath hitch with every tear that fell threatened to send him over that edge with you.

“Come here, it’s okay.” Eddie cooed, and you didn’t waste another second not being in his arms. You stretched out your arms to find his already waiting for you, pulling you into his chest and letting your head rest there, where it used to rest every night.

You let him wrap you in his arms and you let yourself sink into him, throwing a leg over his and nuzzling your face into his chest. He whispered comforting words into the still air and you listened to him, truly believing him when he told you he loved you.

You told him you loved him too.

You lay like that and spoke about everything you needed to until you noticed the sun peeking in through the curtains, replacing the soft orange light of the streetlamps that had graced the room throughout the night. Eddie told you that you should both try and get some sleep, you nodded your head with the little energy you had left and let your eyes drift shut.

You slept knowing you were back where you were always meant to be.

By the time you woke up the room had gone dark again, and you felt a panic surge through you at just how long you must have been asleep for. Eddie was stil there, holding you.

“What time is it?” your voice was raspy, the way it always was when you had just woken up.

“It’s only the afternoon, you’re okay.” Eddie ran his hand over your back and pushed your hair out off your face to look at you.

“Why is it so dark?” you aksed him, perplexed.

“The sun got really bright, you know as the sun does,” you laughed at his words, more so you laughed at how he didn’t even realise what he said was funny. “And you started getting restless, I didn’t know if it was bothering you so I put a blanket over the window and drew the blinds again, so it would be darker.”

He must have pulled you back against him when he got back into bed. “How did you… put a blanket… over the window?”

“Don’t worry about it.” It scared you how sincere he could sound even when he was joking. “I’m magical what can I say.”

“Yeah,” you agreed “you really are.”

Eddie let out a sigh as you moved off of him, laying on your side and staring at him. Eddie mirrored your actions, moving to rest on his side so you were face to face.

“I’m still so sorry about-”

“What will it take to get you to stop apologizing to me?” Eddie asked you, faked annoyance in his voice.

You smiled and your eyes flicked down to his lips. He noticed, the same way he noticed everything. “Can you kiss me?”

“Yeah” he breathed out before he had his hand resting on your cheek and his soft lips pressing onto yours, your bottom lips between both of his. He kissed you like he had never stoped kissing you. He kissed you like it was the one thing he had been put on this earth to do. And you kissed him back like you had something to prove. But mostly you kissed as if you were kissing the life back into each other.

The kiss stayed slow and gentle for as long as either of you could hold out for; but suddenly it all became too much and when Eddie’s tongue ran over your bottom lip you let the dam break and allowed it to consume your entire being.

You kissed like the other could slip away at any moment. Somehow, in between desperate kisses and his tongue running over yours, Eddie had moved to rest above you, his arms caged around either side of your head, holding him up. You let your fingers get tangled in his hair and he let his lips move down to your neck, his head nustled there as he kissed over your most sensitive spot. You already knew your neck would be covered in small reminders of him by the end of this; red and purple love bites marking your neck.

You let him kiss you and touch you and you were sure you would let him do whatever else he wanted. When his hand slipped under your pjyama shorts and you let him touch you, you knew you would have to let him do whatever he wanted later. Because right now you needed to feel him inside of you. You needed to be as close to him as the laws of the universe would grant you.

“Eddie, fuck, please I need you to fuck me.” you had never been paticurally graceful with words, not being blessed with a way of words like Eddie was, but right now that didn’t matter because with Eddie’s lips on your neck and his hands roaming your body there wasn’t a chance in the world of you stringing together a coherent sentence, let alone sounding like Shakespeare.

You felt Eddie‘s lips curl up into a smile against your neck before he pulled away from you, lifing his head to rest his forehead against yours. “You don’t want me to-”

“No. No, please baby I just need you inside me” you didn’t like to beg but with the way his eyes bore into yours you knew you would beg until the end of time if you had to. Not that Eddie would let you do that.

“Okay, okay angel. I’ve got you, gonna give you what you need, huh?” Eddie pressed a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before he pulled away from you again, pulling of his boxers whilst you desperately tried to get your shorts and panties off as quickly as you could, your shaky hands making the tast exponentially more difficult than it should have been. Eddie took over for you, pulling them down your legs and tossing them off somewhere into the darkness of the room.

You pulled him back to you, your hand resting on the back of his neck and kissed him until you felt dizzy, and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Sweets, I need to get a condom-” Eddie spoke between deep kisses. You knew he was right, but you were on the pill and you hadn’t slep with anyone else since Eddie so…

“No. I need to feel all of you.” you knew your words had taken Eddie by surprise, but by the way his brows knitted together and his hips rolled against yours, you knew he was just as desperate for it as you were.

“Are you sure?” Eddie looked right at you, watching your face for any uncertainty. But when all he was met with was a breathy yes and begging eyes he let himself do what you were asking of him.

Shared okays and a bout of almost-nervous laughter was shared between the two of you, but was suddenly and brutally ripped away from you when Eddie sank into you and you felt the world re-align on its axis. Everything making sense again.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking perfect sweetheart. I missed you so much, you have no idea-”

“I missed you too.”

Eddie let himself breathe for a minute or two before he eventually started rocking his hips gently into yours. He took it slow, wanting to savour every moment he got with you. He promised himself he would remember how your lips felt against his as he swallowed your whimpers and moans. He remembered how your nails felt scratching down his back whenever he hit that sweet spot inside of you that only he could reach. When your back arched off the back he let his arm slip underneath you, pulling you close to him and fucking you through everything you were both feeling.

Not many words were exchanged, apart from the occasional whimper of one another’s name, because you didn’t need words to express what you were feeling right now.

Once Eddie’s hand slipped between your bodies, you were coming undone underneath him like you had done so many times before. Only this time it felt like the start of something more. Eddie buried his head in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder as he came undone only a couple of seconds after you had. Both you of you held each other through the overwhelmingness of your highs, your hands running through his hair and his hands holding onto you like you were all he needed.

You stayed like that for who knows how long. Sharing stolen kisses and whispered promises. Time didn’t matter when you were with Eddie. Nothing mattered when you were with him, that was the beauty of everything. You were the only people who could quieten each other’s minds.

authors note hi loves. i wrote this tonight in just under two hours with a raging headache and the occasion cry. so, if there are spelling or grammar errors i can only apologise. it is 1am and i don't have the energy to reread it and check. i hope it wasn't too bad nonetheless <3

taglist @lunarzstarz @emmalee-01 @lma1986 @eddieshoneyy @harringtonfan4 @leelei1980 @joeschains @keirasreplies @niname92 (this means i tried to tag you but i couldn't!)

tumblr please don't delete any of this thank you love you

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson filth

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mrs-dr-reid · 3 months ago

Text

Scary Dog Privilege

(A Wolverine Fic)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Summary: The reader practically begs Logan to be her fake boyfriend at a gala, but ends up getting more than she bargained for

Genre: Fluffy throughout, a teensy bit angsty near the end, and a dash of "oh my god, just KISS ALREADY!!!" sprinkled in pretty much everywhere

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive language, fake boyfriend trope, friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, more than platonic touches, tw food/alcohol, crying, protective!Logan, the image of Logan in a tux (yes, that's a warning), Tony Stark being... himself, a Hugh Jackman-sized Wolverine and an average/small reader (size difference, yaaaaay)

A/N: Big thanks to @snixkers for being my designated Wolvie Beta Reader, as well as a handful of buddies in my writers discord for helping me turn the head words into page words (you know who you are).

Word Count: 4419

———————————————————————

This is going to be a disaster, Y/N thought as she stared hopelessly at the event notification on her phone: Superhero Gala tonight!!!

It was her least favorite day of the year, even though on paper it was a good thing. All of the Avengers and all the X-Men getting together and hosting a gala fundraiser to raise money for a different cause every year, as well as “celebrate the spirit of collaboration among heroes” or whatever preachy bullshit Charles is always on about.

She just knew that she’d inevitably be stuck getting hit on by drunken aristocratic strangers in a dress she didn’t want to be wearing, just like every other year. She’d much rather be honing her abilities or reading a book, but attendance was mandatory for every adult living at the mansion, much to her chagrin.

Y/N paced the length of her bedroom, worrying about her certain doom, when she got an idea. It wasn’t a very good idea, but it was better than no idea at all. She stuffed her phone in her back pocket, then ventured down to the kitchen where she was hoping she’d find who she was looking for, and she was right.

Logan was sitting at the island munching on a piece of toast and nursing a flask of what she assumed was whiskey, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She said, “Howlett, I need to talk to you in private.”

Logan looked up from his breakfast and said, “Good morning to you too, L/N,” mostly unbothered by her request.

Y/N rolled her eyes and said, “NOW, please.”

He raised a hand in surrender and said, “Alright, Bossy Pants,” before following her into the other room away from the prying ears of Jean, Scott, and Ororo.

Once they were out of earshot, Y/N said, “Okay, I’m gonna ask you to do something kinda weird, but I promise if you do it, I’ll never ask you for anything else ever again.”

Logan raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Okay?”

She took a deep breath. “I need you to be my scary dog privilege tonight at the gala.”

The request hung in the air between them as Logan tried to process what the hell she just said to him. “You need me to be your what?”

Y/N sighed exasperatedly, then elaborated. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend so the sleazy rich assholes leave me alone!” before steepling her hands and giving him her best puppy dog pout.

Logan wasn’t swayed, and he crossed his arms. “Why me? Couldn’t you ask McCoy?” Y/N glared at him, annoyed that he was being so difficult.

“Yes, I could ask Hank, but Hank is a teddy bear! You’re tall, you’re intimidating, it’s somewhat believable that we’d be together, and you have claws. And if you don’t do this, I promise you that if even one slimeball approaches me, I will use the ‘what not to do’ section of the Geneva Convention as a to-do list! So will you be my fake boyfriend or not?!”

Both of Logan’s eyebrows went up at this, and he said, “As entertainin’ as that would be, Chuck would probably ground you for committin’ war crimes against a civilian,” before starting to walk back to the kitchen.

In a panic, Y/N blabbed, “I’ll smuggle in cigars and booze for you for a month!” which stopped him in his tracks. Gotcha, Wolvie.

He turned back around, let out a groan in the back of his throat at the hopeful smile on Y/N’s face, then said, “Fine. But just this once,” before sticking out a hand to shake. She grinned, then shook his hand, trying her best to not think about how his hand completely engulfed hers or how warm and rough it was.

That evening, Logan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs alongside Scott for Jean and Y/N to come down, both men in sharp black tuxedos.

Scott said, “So, you’re L/N’s date tonight, huh?” with a shit-eating grin on his face, so Logan rolled his eyes, tugging at the collar of her dress clothes slightly. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Literally. If I refused, she was gonna kill the first stranger who told her she was pretty.”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah, sounds about right.” Then he fell silent, so Logan followed his gaze and tried to ignore the weird tug in the pit of his stomach when he saw Y/N trailing behind Jean. She looked like a completely different person than the woman he bantered with every day.

Her hair fell in a halo of perfect waves around her shoulders, her makeup was done to perfection, diamond studs decorated her ears, and her dress… oh, that dress.

While its rhinestone-encrusted fabric covered every inch of her body except her collarbone and her hands, it hugged every curve like it was made especially for her (and it probably was). The slight padding of the shoulders and the emerald green hue made her look almost ethereal, and the matching shoes he could see peeking out from under the hem with every step she took added to the effect, though he wasn’t sure why.

Y/N stopped in front of him. “Well, you clean up nice, Howlett,” and adjusted his tie (which just so happened to match her dress). That snapped him out of his reverie before he cleared his throat. “You too, L/N. Shall we?”

He offered her his arm, and she took it. “Let’s get this over with,” before letting him lead her into the ballroom.

After he had initially agreed to this admittedly crazy scheme, Logan and Y/N had gone over different forms of PDA that they were each comfortable with. Y/N had told Logan that he could do whatever he needed to do to sell it, whereas he was more hesitant to give her carte blanche, only allowing lingering arm and shoulder touches or a kiss on the cheek if the situation desperately called for it.

Logan instantly clocked the bar the second they stepped foot inside, and before he could say anything, Y/N quipped, “I need to be drunk half an hour ago, let’s move,” and started pulling him towards the bar, causing him to let out a snort as he allowed her to drag him along.

He ordered a whiskey on the rocks while she stuck with a vodka soda, and after they were given their drinks, Logan said, “Say what you want about Stark. At least he has the decency to spring for an open bar, and it’s the good shit,” while swirling the liquid in his glass.

Y/N snickered and said, “I’ll drink to that.” She held her glass up for cheers, and Logan clinked his glass against hers, then downed about half of his whiskey in one swig.

Y/N had to blink to rid the image of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed from her mind, then she downed her drink as well. “Well, we better go find Charles and the others.”

He nodded in agreement, then put a hand at the small of her back as they ventured into the center of the room. Y/N spotted Charles amongst a circle of Avengers and X-Men including Captain America, Black Widow, and Iron Man as well as Hank, Scott, Jean, and Rogue. The two of them approached the circle, and Y/N said, “Partying hard or hardly partying?”

Charles looked away from the tall, blond man Y/N recognized from last year as Steve Rogers at the sound of her voice, then said, “Ah! There you two are! Logan, Y/N, I’m sure you remember Captain Rogers, Miss Romanoff, and Mr. Stark from last year’s benefit,” and gestured between them.

Y/N smiled and said, “Of course. It’s great to see you again,” while shaking each of their hands, earning a “Likewise” from Steve, a nod from Natasha, and a smirk from Tony. He was surely about to say something lewd, but Logan stuck his hand out to shake just in time. “Mighty nice of ya to foot the bill on some decent booze, Stark,” his arm snaking protectively around Y/N’s waist.

If Charles and the other X-Men didn’t clock it, which was highly unlikely, they thankfully said nothing about it, but Tony recovered quickly enough that it wasn’t necessary anyway. He shook Logan’s hand and said, “Of course. Only the best for the best, amiright?” before shooting a wink in Y/N’s direction.

Logan bristled slightly, so Y/N took that as an opportunity to place a hand on his chest and say, “Lo, I believe I was promised a dance?” raising her eyebrows pointedly at him.

He said, “Right, yeah, absolutely, Doll Face. Nice seeing you again, but duty calls. Boyfriend duty, that is,” nodded at Steve and Natasha, then shot an almost gloating wink in Tony’s direction before giving Y/N his arm and whisking her off to the dance floor.

As they left, Y/N swore she heard Scott whisper incredulously, “‘Boyfriend’’?!” and Jean smack him in the chest, which made her stomach flip slightly at the thought that only Scott questioned the arrangement.

As they reached the dance floor, Y/N took note of the string quartet a few paces from the floor. “Open bar, and live entertainment? That Stark sure knows how to throw a party.”

Logan rolled his eyes and huffed, “If he took hints as good as he threw parties, then we’d be in business,” before he remembered that he wasn’t actually Y/N’s boyfriend, and there was no reason for him to be that pissed. So why was he?

Y/N said, “He’s the outlier in this situation. I’ve clocked at least eight different guys that have made to come talk to me, but immediately backtracked once they noticed you standing right next to me. I should bribe you to be my scary dog privilege more often!”

He just scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath,” but there was still a hint of a smile on his face as they joined the other couples waiting for the next song.

The musicians took up their instruments and began playing again, so Logan extended a hand to Y/N and said, “May I have this dance?” while raising a teasing eyebrow at her. She smiled, then took it and replied, “You may.”

He grinned before spinning her into his arms, a peal of laughter escaping her as she collided with his solid chest in a very ungraceful manner.

She giggled, “Logan!” He shrugged and said, “Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I?” neither of them acknowledging that she used his first name.

They kept dancing, Logan periodically making comments about the people around them just to hear her melodic laughter, and to any outsider, they looked just like any other couple; young (or seemingly young in Logan’s case) and in love, even though that wasn’t the case.

When the song ended, Y/N let out a breathless sigh and said, “I’m gonna go get a drink. Do you want anything?”

Logan held up a hand and said, “Nah, I’ve got all night to drink Stark outta house and home. Thank you, though.” Y/N nodded with a smile, then went to head for the bar, but Logan stopped her with a hand on her waist.

He said, “Hang on a sec, Doll,” then held her chin in place with his first two fingers and brushed some rogue strands of hair away from her face before murmuring, “There we go. Perfect.”

Y/N fought to keep a blush from staining her cheeks as she thanked him, then she scampered away to the bar after telling him she’d be back soon, hoping to god he didn’t notice the spike in her heart rate.

She reached the bar and ordered another vodka soda, somewhat breathlessly. As she waited, she ended up overanalyzing all that had transpired thus far, and she couldn’t make sense of any of it. Logan’s protectiveness around someone he knew wasn’t a threat? Going out of his way to play the Boyfriend Card in front of their teammates and collaborators? The pet names? The way he’s been looking at her since they stepped foot inside the ballroom?

As she was going through all of this, an unfamiliar man sidled up next to her at the bar and tried to strike up a conversation, much to Y/N’s dismay.

“Hey there, I’m Jeffrey. Did they give you a name to go with that pretty face?” and she just barely contained a gag/cringe combo before telling him her name. He smiled a bit too wide to be genuine, then said, “Can I order you a drink?” so she said, “I already ordered. And I promised my boyfriend I’d come find him as soon as I got it, so…,” and craned her neck to search for the bartender.

Jeffrey scoffed.“Some boyfriend he is, letting a lady like you wander off by herself.” That made Y/N inhale sharply. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and he’s well aware of that,” she said curtly, silently daring him to say one more stupid thing so she could knock him into next month.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, his voice faltered and his eyes trailed up to someone much taller than her. She didn’t have the chance to turn around before the familiar scent of pine, whiskey, and tobacco filled her nostrils and a pair of lips pressed a kiss to her jaw.

Logan husked out right next to her ear, “Hey, Baby. Thought you were gonna come find me once you got your drink. Dinner’s about to start.” One of his hands slid around to rest against her stomach protectively, so she placed a hand on his arm and said, “I was! It just got busy, I guess. We had the home-front advantage earlier,” trying to pretend like she wasn’t silently losing her mind over what he’d just done and praying to whatever deity existed that he couldn’t smell her body’s reaction to what had just occurred.

She turned her head to look at him, and he smiled at her before nodding his head in Jeffrey’s direction and saying, “Who’s this punk?”

She shot a quick glare at the man in question, then looked back up at Logan. “Just someone who is very lucky you showed up when you did,” she said with a smile before going up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

The bartender arrived with her drink not a moment too soon, and as she grabbed it, said, “It was nice to meet you, Jeffrey,” and then let Logan lead her back to their designated table, choosing to ignore how Logan looked over his shoulder and snarled at the man as they walked away.

Dinner thankfully went off without any hitches, but since Y/N and Logan were seated next to each other, the constant whiffs she got of Logan's unique (and intoxicating) musk whenever he so much as shifted in his chair were driving her insane. Not to mention the absentminded circles he was drawing on her leg under the table, which he didn’t need to do since nobody could see.

Just as she thought she’d be able to beeline it to somebody’s office or the bathroom or anywhere else to hide, Jean pulled her aside while asking to talk to her in private, making her think a string of expletives that she was well aware Jean could still hear as she allowed herself to be dragged to an unoccupied corner of the ballroom.

Once they were away from listening ears, Jean said, “Okay, what is going on between you and Logan? Yesterday you were threatening to shove him off the roof, and now you two are all over each other! And don’t even try to lie,” while raising a questioning eyebrow. Y/N let out a petulant whine, but Jean shot her a look that Y/N liked to call “The Mom Glare”, so she let out a loud sigh and explained everything, her voice growing more hysterical with every word:

“Okay, I bribed Logan into being my fake boyfriend for the night to keep the creeps away, and I told him to do whatever he needed to do so people would believe it, but I realized that I like what he’s been doing way too much for us to be just friends, and I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jean!”

Jean put her hands on Y/N’s arms to ground her and said, “Whoa, calm down. What exactly has he done that’s got you so worked up?” Y/N let out a mildly panicked laugh, then said, “For starters, if he was within arms reach of me, his hands were on me. He was being super protective of me in front of Tony even though we all know he could snap the Tin Man like a toothpick if he wanted to. He kissed me on the jaw earlier when some sleazeball was hitting on me by the bar, then snarled at him as we walked away. And to top it off, he was drawing circles on my leg under the table at dinner, and I’m not convinced he realized he was doing it, because I did nothing to stop him. Ugh, this is so complicated!”

Jean made a confused face at this. “Why does it have to be complicated? You two clearly have feelings for each other that are more than platonic. And if I may, he agreed to this crazy scheme of yours, didn’t he? At least some part of him feels the same way about you.” This earned another whine from Y/N.

She started rambling, “I don’t want this to change our relationship! I mean, yeah, I’ve had a crush on him for years because I’m not blind, but we’re just friends! And we’ve always been just friends! We bust each other's chops, we affectionately threaten each other with violence, we smuggle contraband into the school for each other even though Charles absolutely knows we’re doing it, so there’s literally no reason for us to be so secretive about it. I can’t just throw that away because I’m in love with him!”

Unfortunately, she didn’t notice Jean’s face pale or her attempts to get her to stop talking until a familiar deep voice said, “You’re in love with me?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she turned around to see Logan standing there with a confused expression on his face. Her stomach clenched, and she said meekly, “How much of that did you hear?” hoping he wouldn’t say what she thought he was going to say, and bracing herself for the worst.

“Everything after ‘complicated’.” Fuck.

A whimper escaped her throat, and she heard Jean scamper off behind her. She sighed and whispered, “Shit,” squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. Logan made to move towards her, but Y/N recoiled from him and said, “Don’t!”, before side-stepping him and sprinting out of the ballroom as fast as her wildly impractical attire would allow her, ignoring the concerned calls of her name from her fellow X-Men.

Y/N knew Logan would catch up to her eventually, but for the moment, the only thing on her mind was getting as far away from the ballroom and him as possible. She ended up in the hedge maze, and she fell onto a stone bench to catch her breath, but all too soon she heard Logan yelling her name.

She ignored him, then proceeded to bury her face in her hands and cry due to the sheer irony of the situation: She was hiding in a stupid hedge maze from the only man she’s ever wanted because she can’t bring herself to face him.

Logan rounded the corner a few moments later, and the second he saw her on the bench and heard her sniffling, he knelt before her. “Hey, don’t cry, Sweetheart.” He gently pulled her hands away from her face.

Y/N just shook her head and whispered, “I can’t do this, Logan,” through her tears, making Logan’s eyebrows furrow before he said, “Can’t do what, Darlin’?” and went to wipe her cheek with his thumb, but it was too much for her to take.

Y/N flinched away from his touch and sobbed out, “This! The pet names, the tender touches, you looking at me like that! I can’t go back to just friends after everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t! If you’re gonna let me down, please just let me down gently because it’s the only way I can bear losing you!”

A fresh flood of tears blurred her vision enough that she couldn’t see his face, and she tried to get up to run back to her room or anywhere else where she could lock the door and try to pretend like this whole night was just a bad dream, but Logan’s hands shot out to hold her in place. “Y/N, who said anything about letting anybody down or losing me?”

Y/N startled at the sound of her first name coming out of his mouth, and she blinked back her tears to find him looking at her so tenderly she thought she was going to melt into the grass below her. Logan cupped her face in his hand and said,

“From the day that I met you, I knew I needed to find a way to keep you in my life. For a while, that was by being your friend. But only being your friend isn’t enough for me anymore. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my entire life.” His thumb stroked her cheek comfortingly as he spoke.

Y/N giggled through her tears, and she said, “That’s a long ass time, Wolvie.”

He chuckled back and said, “My point exactly, Doll,” squeezing her knee for emphasis. Y/N looked down at the ground and said, “You’re gonna get grass stains on your pants.”

Logan raised an eyebrow challengingly before bracing his hands on the bench on either side of her and purposely grinding his knees into the grass, pulling a shocked laugh from her. “Logan Howlett!”

He chuckled at her admonishing tone, then leaned in to press his forehead against hers and murmured, “It stopped being pretend for me the moment you came downstairs in this dress,” as he ran a hand down her leg to fiddle with the hem of her dress.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and she whispered, “You had me at ‘hey, baby’.” For a moment they just stared at each other, but Logan’s resolve broke when she breathed his name, and he surged forward to capture her lips in a desperate kiss that said everything words couldn’t then.

His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, and she let him in without hesitation as she gripped the back of his jacket and he held her against his chest like she’d disappear if he let go. Y/N could have stayed in his embrace forever, and Logan could have kept her like that indefinitely.

Unfortunately, humans need oxygen to live, so Y/n pulled her lips away to at least attempt to catch her breath, but Logan had other plans.

He trailed his kisses down her jaw to her neck, and his hand started roaming around her back to find the zipper of her dress, but Y/N put a hand to his chest to stop him and said, “You better take me on a real date before you try something like that, Howlett.” He buried his face in her shoulder and groaned disappointedly.

Y/N giggled, then said, “As far as I know, the gala doesn’t end for another few hours,” to which Logan leaned back so he was sitting on his heels.

“I think I like where your head's at, Princess,” a smirk crossing his face before he jumped to his feet, scooped her up bridal style, and started jogging back to the mansion, his heart swelling at her squeal of laughter and how her arms tightened around his neck.

Logan set Y/N down outside of the ballroom, then held out his hand and said, “Ready, Darlin’?”

She smiled and said, “Always, Big Guy,” before lacing her fingers with his and walking into the room, where seemingly every Avenger and X-Man was standing and waiting with bated breath.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up at Logan, who let out a resigned sigh and said, “Ahhhh, fuck it,” before sweeping her into a dip and kissing the life out of her, an eruption of shocked laughter, wolf whistles, and applause coming from the gathering of heroes, making Y/N smile against his lips and cup his face in her hand.

When he pulled his lips away, Logan murmured, “I’m in love with you, too. Didn’t get to say it earlier,” making Y/N snark, “Oh, really? I never would have guessed,” before giggling and reconnecting their lips, Logan chuckling as he held her even closer.

Scott hollered teasingly, “Hey, lovebirds! Mind wrapping it up?! We’ve got places to be!”

Both Logan and Y/N simultaneously flipped him off while they stayed engrossed in each other.

“Yeah, fair enough,” Scott said, making Jean laugh at him. Logan eventually stood Y/N up again, then said, “Hey, Stark, is there any good shit left? I don’t know about you, but I finally got the girl, and I feel like celebrating.” As he spoke, he shot a wink at Y/N solely to make her blush.

Tony said, “Absolutely!” A waiter came over with two glasses of champagne, and even Y/N could tell that it was high-quality stuff just from the smell.

Logan held his glass towards her, then said, “To you and me, Darlin’.” Y/N clinked her glass against his in cheers and said, “You and me, Bubba,” everyone cheering as Logan kissed her temple.

As an avid romance novel reader, she probably should have seen this coming, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care about anything else besides the comforting feeling of Logan’s arm around her waist and the knowledge that he was all hers for as long as she wanted him, which was forever.

———————————————————————

MCU Taglist: @libraryofloveletters

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

#logan writes #logan howlett x reader fluff #extended avengers cameo because i said so

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damiansgoodgirll · 1 year ago

Note

dad!jude bellingham when his daughter doesn‘t let him go and cry everytime he doenst hold her.

jude bellingham x reader

Daddy’s little girl

your daughter was jude’s twin.

not only she had his eyes but she had his same attitude.

they were practically inseparable. from the day she was born jude felt super overprotective over her, she was his little bundle of joy and he would do anything to protect her.

but due to his work, many nights he couldn’t be home to hold her and she missed those moments so much. she wanted to have daddy to read her a story before bed and she wanted to have him close to her until she fell asleep.

“you should probably go and see her” you said smiling to jude the moment he got home from practice “she couldn’t stop talking about you…she missed you a lot”

“and you? did you miss me?” he joked qbout it, wrapping his hands around your waist and leaving soft kisses on your neck.

“i did miss you…a lot” you turned around to look him in the eyes.

before you could initiate something very inappropriate your daughter came running -and most of the time stumbling on the floor - when she heard jude’s voice.

“daddy!” she screamed.

“hey princess” he knelt down to pick her up “i missed you a lot baby girl” he kissed her cheek.

“missed you…” she whispered into his neck “ i don’t like when you’re away…”

“i know baby…but it’s my job”

“well…then i don’t like your job” she fiercely said.

that made you laugh, especially after seeing jude’s look who pretended to be offended.

“no no princess, my job is the best one in the world…you’ll get it when you’ll grow up…” he whispered to her with a smirk on his face.

“can you take me to bed?” she asked him as if it was something that needed to be asked to. it was a routine ; jude came back from practice, he would take your daughter to bed, he would take a walk a quick shower and then he would have dinner with you and spend the rest of the night between your arms - or between your legs, it depended on which mood he was that day.

“alright…let’s go to bed princess” he said carrying her to the bedroom.

once she was fully tucked in, with her comfortable blankets and all of her plushies around her he would lay next to her and he would start reading some stories.

sometimes he would read some of her books, sometimes he would talk to her about his days or about the games he had that day.

but tonight something was wrong and he could feel it from the way she wasn’t focused on anything he was saying.

“hey baby girl is everything okay?” he asked her.

“i missed you…” she said almost in a whisper. he could tell she was going to cry so he immediately held her.

“i know baby…i missed you too princess, i missed you more than mommy…” he joked and she laughed a bit “i know that my work takes most of my time but i promise you that even when i’m not here, you’re always the first one in my thoughts…i love you so much baby girl” he kissed her forehead.

“i love you too daddy…” she yawned.

“now, it’s time for you to sleep babygirl…”

“can you stay here?” she asked.

“of course, i’m not leaving” he smiled to her and she curled up next to him as his finger when immediately into her hair.

once she fell asleep he silently walked out from her bedroom only to find you next to your daughter’s bedroom.

“you missed her more than mommy uh?” you said smirking and leaving to your shared bedroom “if you’ll be here in five seconds i’ll make you change your mind” you joked again but immediately laughed when you saw jude running towards the bedroom.

he was such a child sometimes and you couldn’t want it in any other way.

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wroteclassicaly · 2 years ago

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so, like, my horny steve thot is almost always the same: i just love the idea of his cock being sooo uncommonly long and girthy that he has to take his sweet time getting you ready and even tho he makes you cum on four fingers and his tongue twice, he still can only fit about half of his cock inside you before you’re crying (crying for more? crying for less? you don’t even know … you’re crying for more probably) :(((( hehe

I know this is way more than a Steve thot, but I do hope you like it anyways? Hehe, thanks so much for sending it in, my dear Cece! I tweaked it a little bit ;)

Note: My vaginismus having ass could not take Steve’s monster very easily (if at all), but this is nice to think about. And I felt like having trouble, even with prep from four fingers (my god, I struggle with sometimes one and definitely two) — is relatable af!

Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, touches on sub space a little bit, mentions oral sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and the reader has a hard time taking Steve, so there’s significant pain. I think that about covers it?

Sometimes you felt as if you were floating. Higher than the tallest cliff hanging off the quarry, rocks jagged and waters a deep, enriching blue, rippling in velvet serenity. Your particles could be scattered to the Midwest winds and you’d have yet to realize, halfway through time — maybe even space…? It happens more and more frequently now, tonight is no different.

You shift, one jut of your knee that slides into a slippery sloping press, his wiry leg hairs tickling your calf. He moves, widening your right thigh, your ankle sliding across your rose colored bed sheets, and back behind his slender form, where he’s kneeling in front of you. An electric heat flows so hot between your legs that the cool air rushing in hurts. You fist your own fingers into your air, massaging, tugging, neck stretching to expose the delicate tendons that run up your throat — ones he’s littered in his claims. God if he could suck them raw, nip the sore flesh into his teeth, enough that you whimper again, opening yourself just the way he needs you to…

Your arm is still thrown above your head, the outline of your forearm pressing into your pillow, your kiss-swollen lips shiny with spit and dormant pleas that he’d heard not long ago. He’s tried to say a few words, even used his palm to push down on your abdomen, still four knuckles deep into your soaking wet pussy. It’s to no avail, your eyes completely glassy, lash line soaked, gaze fucked over and reaching outer limits — a place he can only imagine what’s it like (from your perspective, anyways). He knows this path you go head first into. The books and magazines he had read a long time ago in his High School days mentioned how sex is obviously different for girls, how they can experience things more intensely sometimes.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for this. The very first time it happened coincided with a two hour long foreplay. Steve remembers it like the back of a Farrah Fawcet spray canister. He was prepping you to take him — all nerves and mangled, panting breaths. One finger and his mouth on your neck, two found his lips sucking underneath your jaw line and crooking against that spot just right, three had you stifling whimpers into his neck and riding his splayed palm that stayed drenched, and four… Well, four was an unremarkable set of attempts that took up the better part of the second hour.

You’d done it with Steve’s patience, his languid coaxing. And when you had berated yourself for being unable to take it much past the tip of the fourth, he’d slid between your legs and lifted them apart, his tongue finding your creamy opening and helping himself. You lost count on how many fuses he’d lit and caused to explode, only touching your senses upon hearing Steve hiss out a yes when his fourth finger easily joined the other three. It took a few minutes with him talking to you, high on a raspy ease, a delicious chorus of praises pouring off his lips — then you were back. Some sort of transitioning space, Robin had told him when he couldn’t help but to ask, wondering if it was too much for you.

And that fed into Steve’s addiction to satiate his hunger for seeing you in such an uncaring, completely melted state. All because of him.

He grabs your chin with a calloused thumb and pointer finger, pinching to tilt, your lips catching his and separating in an easy smack. His nose tucks into your cheek, another glide of his mouth, four fingers turning back into three and a stretch, and you inhale sharply — everything coming back into focus. Your breath is winded, bosom heaving and nipples dragging across his tufts of chest hair. He’s so fucking warm, his freckle splattered skin stained red with flush, his aftershave sinking into the corners of your mouth, stubble tickling your chin, and inky pupils littered with cinnamon rings. His brows pinch together, pearly white teeth grinning lazily as he presses another kiss to your mouth the moment that you sigh into a shared breath.

“Welcome back, baby.”

His free hand reaches for your forearm above your head, fingers sliding along damp and salty skin, tickling across your palm and lacing with your own digits — squeezing.

“Mhm. Stevie…” His thick fingers buried in that scorching mess between your thighs is suddenly on the forefront. Holy shit he’d gone to town on you. The evidence has slicked down your ass and onto the bed sheets, that’s no secret.

“I tap out again for a second? Fuck, you’re so good.” You coo at him, enjoying how his eyes light up in a mirth unmatched.

He hooks your right leg around his lower waist, leaving the other lowered to where you’ve got it propped. His eyes find yours and he drinks you in as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, both of you letting out a choked moan. His thumb pad caresses your clit, his digits smacking your cunt and scattering some arousal. You jump, toes curling, digging into his waistline.

“Shit, honey, let me taste you first.” He’s teasing, smirking that Steve Harrington smirk, popping his sopping fingers into that plush mouth, making a real diabolical show of it.

You practically chase his touch, eager to sample yourself — whatever he’ll let you have. He wiggles his shiny fingertips and barely touches your bottom lip, teasing you, making you raise up — the action causing his very prominent erection to nudge your folds. You jump a little, that instinctual preparation that promises a very defining pain — working its way to the forefront. Steve shakes his head and swipes his fingers across your mouth, planting them on your hip to massage in soothing circles. You’re so fucking wet that you’ve already soaked him, and that makes holding back from taking what he wants that much harder.

“Easy, okay? Haven’t even tried to put it in yet. You know I’ll always ask you before I do, right?”

You nod, breathing in a few self-comforting breaths. It’s not that you’re terrified of the pain. Hell, your little kinky ass indulges in it most of the time, but there’s also that percentage that is nervous, that worries about how much it usually does hurt, (despite many orgasms and lubrication), or if you won’t be able to take him at all this time. His walnut strands tickle your cheek as he descends to nuzzle your nose with his own, reassuring hand still on your hip.

“You want it like this tonight?”

You nearly combust on the spot, body bowing to a magnetizing nostalgia of various positions he’d fucked you in; nice and deep, or ever-so-slow and fucking filthily. You can almost taste his sweat from thrusts he’s yet to initiate, feel the goosebumps pepper your flesh as his silky mane tickles your forehead, maybe even your neck and shoulder (it all depends on which way he has you, really). You aren’t quick enough to draw in your timid answer, starting to slip again, preparing to drift and seek him out. His fingers leave your hip and pull down on your bottom lip, releasing it with a plop as the digits head towards your jaw — strumming a slow scrape. “Babe?” He’s amused, questioning. “How do you want me?”

“I..” And your throat feels like it’s overworked, yet you’ve barely spoken. It drips with elated exhaustion, slowly clambering upright. “Right where you are. Get the stuff, honey.” You flip his nickname for you back onto him, and it has a reaction that crashes into his chest, making it swell in size for you.

He nods immediately, the hand that’s holding yours — leaving, but only to work open the bedside drawer in haste, fumbling clumsily as he decides to capture your bottom lip between his teeth — leaving little love pecks as an after motion. You can barely leave his mouth, his neck straining and flushed bright red, caked in sweat. He rolls back on his haunches, his heavy cock bobbing against his stomach and leaving a connective trail of your slick and his pre-cum to both, your thighs and his.

“Jesus,” he mutters in awe. You’re always so wet for him.

You do shift a little, relaxing your legs around his lower back and connecting your ankles. He has the lube bottle in hand, cracking its lid and wiggling his brows at you. A silent signal not missed, you present your palm and he squeezes out a good amount of gel in, tossing it onto the nightstand beside your head. And fuck, you really wish you had your Polaroid right now, because watching him inhale through clenched teeth, toned waist giving into a bunch, and licking a sharp swipe of his tongue across his lips, the moment that your hand is reaching forward to take him in your grasp — it’s forever seared into your pitiful, Steve-stamped retinas. Screw your pupils, might as well be little Steve’s there instead.

His breath trembles, caressing his tongue, body unprepared as your fingertips tap a tempo up his shaft, barely grazing, before moving back down again. His cock twitches, jumping in your hand, and that’s the moment that you take your chance and wrap your fist around him. He falls forward on hefty palms, fingers splayed beside your head, bunching your sheets in a white knuckled grip. This is one of the parts that you absolutely go to the outer limits for.

He mouths at your jugular, nose pathing up your neck and dragging across your chin until he’s able to kiss you and pant against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Use it however you want to. S’ all yours. Don’t need to be afraid of it. ”

That first sticky contact where he’s finally parting your folds turns you into a babbling mess, a wanton whimper tangled at your tongue’s tip. The fingernail of Steve’s thumb scrapes at your chin, tugging and encouraging your sounds to spill free. When you oblige, he slides that very digit into your mouth and presses, salt, his saliva, and your own musky essence pouring over your taste buds.

“That’s my good girl — shit!” You roll your tongue around his finger and take him down to the knuckle, your fist gliding across his length at an easy rhythm in a simultaneous thievery.

“Monster madness.” You whisper, letting your tongue flick around his thumb, before releasing.

He meets your mouth in a shared grin — all teeth, light laughs. “So I own a monster and a python, huh?” He winds your hair back behind your ear and you know it’s almost time. Your grip on him has loosened a little.

You share a heavy stare, a connection that doesn’t falter, even through one raise of his bushy brows. You watch in a marveling, drool-lathered wonder as the tendons in his wrist flex when his fingers separate, pushing your folds apart. They disconnect with an audible squelch, making you grip him tightly again — squeezing. A diagram-deep groan punches through his esophagus and claws its way from his mouth. “Oh. Fucking do somethin’, honey. Please…”

His voice sounds wet, like a hurricane is rising inside his lungs, battering his insides, and threatening to flood his throat — a desperation that finds an adjoining link within your own desires. As he still holds you open, you bring his purpling tip to your swollen clit, and with a blinking of newly tear stained lashes — you use him. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, another beading escaping him and helping the friction you’ve begun to stimulate you both with. Your knee jerks and he thrusts into your hand, his thick, full balls catching on your ass, your wetness having found a home there too. It’s all too messy to comprehend a clean up. And he doesn’t want to, if he’s being honest.

“Baby, you have the prettiest clit. God it feels so good, you know that? Don’t stop for me.” He’s shaking in his forearms, biceps rattled, muscles caving in. He’s not even inside of you yet and he’s already drenched and throbbing, about to blow his load.

Luckily, you know him as well as he knows you. And you release, quickly lifting your ass in a slight wiggle, legs still locked and now wound around his lower back. You give him one pleading command. “Split me open, Stevie.”

He takes an intoxicating initiative, finding your left hand to hold on tight, fingers leaving your cunt and wrapping around his glistening base, curls matted with your cream. This isn’t gonna last long. “Need more lube, baby?” He checks one last time, your head shaking

You’re fucking warm and soft when he drags his dick through the seam of you, teasing, slapping your inner thigh, your clit, finally teasing his head to that ring of nerves. “Fuck.” His hand lifts on your hand, knuckles smashing into your pillow case, palms held and fitted. You’re relaxed enough that you’re close to sucking him right in, and as soon as the head pops past your opening, he sees your eyes fill with tears. You dig your nails into the top of his hand, scratching, nearly breaking skin. What comes out of your mouth before he can say anything shocks him.

“H-hold on. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s lips find your neck and they suck, bite, licking clean the evidence of a beginning claim. He has to stop himself from fucking you up the bed at this new knowledge. “Oh yeah? Feels that good?”

“Just go slow.” You whimper into a kiss he bestows, tongue greedily slinking into his mouth to take what you want.

He sees what you mean when he presses in a little more and is flooded with a fresh wave of cream, his eyes rolling back and clouding over. And that’s the moment he knows that he has to check in, because you sniffle. There it is.

“Honey? You alright?”

You’re trying to say you are, but it comes out as a broken “mhm” and you lick your lips, eyes focusing on the ceiling, sclera burning. It fucking stings, your body is telling you what it knows — that it’s gonna be too much, that you’ll be sore. But he’s so warm, so heavy inside, and he isn’t even completely there. You try to shove your hips and seek out more, only to be rebuffed. “Baby…” he warns, composure tilting over that precipice, wavering.

And the air changes, your body goes light, and that’s it.

“Come here.” Your hand that’s unheld, is digging into his hair, its soft strands becoming rising waves in the gaps between your fingers, tumbling over yourself to get to his mouth.

His knees help keep him above you, or else he’d collapse. You breathe in deep, releasing it against his lips when you part, your nipples prodding at his slippery flesh. Smashing your nose into his own, he nudges, he shifts, and you’re caught — his thick cock sinking into you. It’s not even half, but you cling to Steve through gasping cries and tear splattered lips, everything aching and throbbing. Your heart is racing so hard that you’re sure your bones are being dusted to ash.

Despite the nearly unbearable fire his size carries, your body welcomes him halfway in without anything else needed. Steve pauses, not just for you, but for himself and the ridiculous choppiness that he can’t even call breathing. He lifts your combined hands and kisses each finger, making you tighten around him and his hips shove forward. You both curse and he apologizes, to no avail. You’ve begun to beg him, and he thinks he might be in his own transitioning space.

“Honey — Baby, hold on, m’ tryna make it better for you.”

“More, I want it all, S-Steve… Don’t stop!”

“But you’re tensing on me —“

“Please, oh god, please — Steve!”

His control vanishes and his closed fist reaches the bottom of your folds as he helps himself push the rest of the way in — in two swift, squelching glides. His tip finds that spot right away, settled like a flesh tight glove, and it sets off a series of sparks, your throat barely able to let out a scream before your release squirts from your cunt and reaches the happy trail scattered around Steve’s navel. Yep, it’s over. He pulls your linked hands up and drapes them by his neck, pumping his hips on one good time, forehead sticking to yours, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, and he comes. Your exposed hands that aren’t together, they find one another and match the other two, lacing, pieced just right.

Steve crumbles and collapses on you, your breasts dripping with combined exertion, his pulse racing to stabilize, face burrowing on the swell of your chest. It’s a few silent moments — his cock softening inside you, your cunt brimming with his warm spend, and then he’s looking up at you from his spot. That five o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, his pupils trying to normalize, and fuck — his own eyes have spilled moisture. Every freckle and mole is visible, his easy grin and silent apology starting, but you brush the hair of his forehead, enjoying his reddened cheeks.

“I love you, honey. Are you okay? Want me to—“ His own voice sounds discombobulated.

“Stay a little while with me, like this? Inside?” Is your airy soft response.

And now, now you think that Steve will be floating over the quarry with you. Particles that fuse together. Of time and space.

// eat me paragraph //

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weird-is-life · 1 year ago

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Hiii! I was thinking about a Spencer reid x wife!reader request where the team doesn't know that Spencer is married. One night the team goes to a bar and Spencer is *forcefully* dragged along because he wanted to spend his night cuddling with reader (but he couldn't tell the team that). So he practically pouts the whole time and the team (Morgan) teases him until reader surprises Spencer by showing up to the bar and then he has to explain that he's married. Thanksss!! <33

Hii lovely, ty for this request! Hope this is okay🥰 warnings: use of y/n, pet names, mentions of drink(0.7k)

Spencer, despite his loud protests, is sitting in the bar with the rest of the team. Between sipping his drink and frowning very visibly, he keeps texting you.

He doesn't want to spend the night at the bar with the team(even though he loves them very much), but he loves you more and wants nothing else but to cuddle with you in the soft bed. He hasn't seen you in a week and he, hopelessly, needs you close to him or he might die.

His texts are all desperate, too. He only complains to you through them. And at one point, he sends you so many sad emojis, that you think your phone is going to explode from all of the notifications. So you make very irrational decision and go to the bar.

"Pretty boy, if you don't stop frowning any time soon, I might get offended," Derek teases him," I thought you loved us!"

Everybody laughs and it only makes Spencer pout more, "I'm just not in the mood for being here tonight."

"Yeah? And where would you rather be, huh?"

"Home-"

"With who? Sulking alone with a book?" Derek jokes.

"No, with-..." Spencer almost says your name, "yeah, it would be just me and my peace." He scowls some more. Taking another sip from his drink. He also looks at his phone, pouting, because you've stopped responding to his text.

"Oh come on, Spencer. Don't be like this, you can at least pretend you are happy to be here," Penelope adds, glaring at him (playfully).

"I'm sorry, guys. I just-" he stops himself in the middle of the sentence, because the bartender puts another glass of coke in front of him.

"Umm excuse me, but I didn't order this-"

"This is from the woman at the bar," she points and his eyes follow her finger in the same direction.

It takes him probably like a half a second to recognise you and he is immediately up on his legs, basically running towards you.

He takes you into his arms and spins you around happily, all you manage to do is smile and squeel.

When he finally puts you down, he kisses you deeply. You instantly kiss him back. You pull apart after a few seconds and you breathlessly greet him, huge smile painting your lips, "hi Spence."

"Sweetheart," he says delighted, "what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't leave you being all miserable here, love" you say softly, running your hands through his soft curls, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. So much," he almost whines and hugs you tightly once again. He is so happy, that you are there, that he could cry.

While you two share this sweet moment, the whole team is gaping at you, mouths and eyes wide open.

You have direct view of them over Spencer's shoulder.

"Babe, I think, we have some explaining to do," you giggle, burying your face into his shoulder.

"I know, but i don't want to," he protests, he wants to only stay close to you.

You push yourself out of his embrace, despite his disapproval, and let him lead you towards the table.

All eyes are on you and you do feel a bit shy under all of their intense gazes. Spencer squeezes your hand in support.

"Guys, this is...-well- this is y/n, y/n Reid," he gives them a proud smile. Somehow it's possible for them to look even more confused.

"Wait what, did you just say Reid?" Derek questions.

"Yes, I did," he says smugly, "team, meet my lovely, gorgeous wife." There's a complete silence for a couple of seconds, before Derek speaks up

"I think, I've missed a few chapters here or?" Derek voices out what everyone is thinking.

"I must have had, too," everybody agrees, while looking at you like they are seeing a ghost.

Before Spencer can start rambling, you jump in to save the situation. "It's so nice to finally meet you guys, I've heard so much about you all," you smile big at them, "I know this must be really shocking to you. But me and Spencer will answer any questions you have."

You speaking seems to bring them out of the shock and it takes them only a short moment to introduce themselves. You are ushered to sit next to the girls, which you are glad for. While Spencer gets a few 'my boy' proud pats on his shoulder from Derek.

You answer every single one of their questions and you and Spencer exchange happy smiles the whole night.

But as soon as you can, you are out of there. And Spencer finally gets to hold you in the bed. Snuggling you close to his chest.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

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borathae · 8 months ago

Text

Cozy | Yoongi x f.Reader

"In celebration of your anniversary, Yoongi surprises you with a cozy winter holiday in your own little mountain cabin. The days are spent enjoying the tranquility, the evenings are spent enjoying yummy cocoa and the nights are filled with love making. On your fourth night, you surprise Yoongi with a very special massage."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: the supernatural aspect of them is basically not present, so this is also for all the besties who don't like supernatural stuff, Yoongi being the ultimate boyfriend, she gets such princess treatment, casual nudity, cuddles and kisses, the next ones are for the smut part: the coziest love making, sub!Yoongi, service Dom!Reader, pillow prince!Yoongi, soft Dom!Reader, massage with a massage candle, can you call this waxplay?, use of lube, anal fingering, prostate massage, use of a prostate vibrator, she just wants to make him feel good, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), he has sensitive thighs, cock worship, body worship, kisses, praise, loving dirty talk, loveliest aftercare, this is so sweet and comforting, they're so in love holy fuck

Wordcount: 9.7k

a/n: being treated like a princess and treating my boy like a king in return? yes. this is the ultimate life and nobody can fucking stop me. enjoy besties, i love them so much that i want to cry 🤎 ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOONGIE I LOVE YOU <3

It will be your anniversary this Wednesday and Yoongi surprised you with a trip to the Austrian alps. He rented out a cabin high up a mountain, which was only accessible by a narrow one lane path. He told you to pack warm and take your favourite books and then took you in his jeep.

You and he haven’t left the cabin yet except for your second day where you drove down to the local supermarket to buy groceries for the week. You will be here for six nights. Yoongi cooks for you. He already announced that he will. You also take a lot of walks and built a snowman in front of your cabin. The afternoons you spend doing your own things. You like to read, while Yoongi likes making music on his laptop. Every now and then, one or the other would look up for a moment to catch a glimpse of the other person. Come dinner time and you find yourselves cooking together whilst chatting about the most random of things.

Tonight’s dinner was authentic Carbonara with local eggs and bacon. It tasted wonderfully. You went for two portions because you couldn’t get enough. Yoongi was so happy, watching you enjoy the meal and feeling full just watching you.

The latter has been occupying the bathroom for the last thirty minutes, but seems to finally be done. You are reading on the couch when the bathroom door opens. The scent of his shampoo instantly fills the room.

“The bathroom's still toasty if you wanna go now", Yoongi says as he leaves the room. He is wearing his sleep pants, but no shirt, rubbing his hair dry with his towel.

You follow him with your eyes, feeling your heart flutter. He is so perfect. His arms tense and flex as he dries his hair, his chest stretches in the position and his tummy looks so soft. Your eyes linger on it for longer. He isn’t sucking it in anymore.

In the beginning of your relationship, Yoongi always sucked in his stomach when he was shirtless in front of you. Years passed and the once conscious act turned into something subconscious, something his body did on reflex. For a few months now, you began to notice that he stopped doing it more and more. It has been four days since you came here and not once have you seen him suck in his stomach.

“What?” Yoongi asks as he sits down on a chair in front of the floor mirror, “why are you looking at me?”

“It’s nothing. I don’t wanna say it yet”, you say and get up to use the bathroom as well.

“What do you mean?” he asks and you can watch how his stomach instinctively tenses up.

“No, it’s nothing bad. You’re just so handsome. I was swooning over you again”, you assure him and give him a back hug. One kiss to his cheek. Another to his neck. The last on top his shoulder.

Yoongi looks at you with half-lidded eyes.

“I’m taking a shower now. Okay?” you ask as you give his shoulders a gentle massage.

“Yeah, okay.”

“My handsome prince”, you say and snicker when this makes him lower his eyes bashfully.

You close the door, but don’t lock it. You are in the midst of stepping inside the shower when Yoongi knocks.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

The door opens. Yoongi doesn’t look at you on purpose.

“Sorry, I forgot my brush”, he says and fetches it from the counter. He waves it in the air, “found it.”

And with that, he leaves again, keeping his head lowered in respect. You snicker to yourself. He is such a sweetheart. You wouldn’t have minded if he looked at you, but he still made sure not to be disrespectful. It is the same with any kind of touch which could be interpreted sexually. He could kiss you, grope you, fuck you and ruin you without asking if he wanted to, but would he do so? Of course not. He only touches you when he knows you want it, just as he only looks when he knows you want it. He makes you feel so important and loved with it. You aren’t a piece of meat to objectify for him, a pretty thing to perform at all times. You are his most precious person, his favourite human and the treasure he will only worship if you allow him. Oh it feels so good to be with someone who allows you to be so disgustingly human.

Which makes the fact that he started relaxing his stomach in your presence all the more precious. He is finally allowing himself to be so disgustingly human in your presence.

You love this man so much.

Yoongi is wearing the full pyjama set once you leave the bathroom. His hair is dry and fluffy. His bangs hang into his face, making him appear so much younger.

He lifts his eyes and lowers them instantly when he realises that you were naked.

“It’s okay to look, I don’t mind” you assure him and leave for the bedroom, “I forgot my pjs. Silly me.”

You return soon. You and he are matching. You had the idea and Yoongi instantly took the soft pyjamas you offered. Even your fluffy socks are matching.

“Did you brush your teeth yet?” he asks you.

“Not yet. Why?”

“Do you want hot chocolate?”

“Oh yes”, you gasp with sparkly eyes.

“Okay”, he says and gets up from the couch to hurry to the kitchen.

You in the meantime get cozy on the couch, bundling up in a woollen blanket.

The cabin is made up of four rooms. The small entrance area where one can store their outside clothes and skiing equipment if needed. Then a sturdy door separates it from the living room and kitchen area, keeping the chill air out that way.

At the other end of the living space, were two doors next to each other. One for the bathroom and the other for the bedroom. A metal wood burner in the corner closest to the bedroom door keeps the small cabin warm and in the corner closest to the entrance way door, a corner bench with a dining table and three chairs was located. Everything was made out of wood, the floors, the walls and most furniture. It looked traditional and cozy.

The couch was very obviously from Ikea though. It didn’t feel out of place.

You turn on the cozy sofa, resting your chin on the edge of the backrest so you could watch Yoongi make hot cocoa.

He makes it on the stove with fresh, local milk and actual chocolate. Apparently Austria has this very famous chocolatier, who also makes chocolate especially for hot cocoas. You and Yoongi picked out a few flavours from the store, which piqued your interests.

Yoongi walks to you with his hands balled into fists. He presents them to you.

“Do I gotta pick?” you ask.

He nods his head.

“What are the flavours?”

“Banana milk chocolate or cinnamon nougat.”

“Ooh okay uhm”, you tap on his left hand.

He turns it and opens it, revealing the small chocolate bar. It looks tiny in his big hand.

“Nice, cinnamon nougat”, you say.

“Mhm, good choice”, he says and turns to strut back to the stove.

He stirs in the chocolate, humming to himself as he does. You keep watching him, kicking your feet giddily. When will the limit of your love for him be reached? You always think that your heart can’t take anymore, but then it grows and grows and grows and it never gets too much.

Yoongi divides the cocoa into two mugs, giving you more than himself. He fills the pot with some water so it would be easier to clean later and then struts back to you.

You stretch out your hands so he can give it to you over the backrest.

“Careful, it’s really hot.”

“I know. Uh, ah.”

“I told you it's hot”, he whines and tugs the mug away from you again.

“I got it now”, you say and pull your shirt sleeves over your hands.

“Careful.”

“I got it. See? Just had to use my brain.”

He snorts and chuckles, rounding the couch so he could sit down next to you.

“Thank you so much for this. It’ll warm me up in no time.”

"Are you cold? I'll get more wood. And a second blanket”, Yoongi babbles and tries to get up.

You, however, keep him down by laying your legs over his lap, “I’m cozy. Don’t worry.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Thank you.”

“Okay, yeah. Just tell me if you change your mind.”

“I will, my love”, you speak softly as your eyes wander over his features adoringly. You are resting back, keeping the hot cocoa on your tummy for now so it could cool down a little.

Yoongi is sitting up, fumbling with the edge of the mug by tracing it mindlessly. He glances at you and looks away. His cheeks gain colour.

You notice and give his tummy a little nudge with your toes.

He glances again. You give him a smile. He barely retorts it because then he is looking away bashfully again.

He takes a breath in the distinct way he always does when he wants to talk. Nothing comes. He is hesitating.

“What do you wanna say?” you ask him.

“How did you know that I wanted to say something?” he gasps, looking at you with widened eyes.

“Just the way you breathed.”

“Ah”, he flusters, “am I that predictable?”

“No, it’s just that we’re spending so much time with each other.”

“I guess, yeah.”

“What did you wanna say?”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I won’t laugh, promise.”

“What did you mean by what you said earlier?”

“What did I say again?”

“That you didn’t wanna say it yet”, he says and touches the side of his neck in self soothing, “it made me feel insecure”, he adds in a whisper.

“It did? No Yoongi, I’m sorry”, you gasp and sit up to close in on him. Your legs are still thrown over his lap. The mug rests on your thighs for now, “I’m sorry that it made you feel this way. It was something totally positive, but I just didn’t wanna say it yet in order not to ruin it.”

“What do you mean? I don’t know what to make of this.”

“Okay so, uhm, please don’t take it to heart, but I noticed that you stopped sucking in your tummy when you’re shirtless with me.”

“My tummy?” he touches it, “I’m sucking in my stomach?”

“Not anymore. You did so for the longest time and I understand why you did it, but since a few months ago, you stopped doing it and I guess I just looked at you because I thought that you were so beautiful this way.”

“Oh. Uhm”, he lowers his head shyly, “okay. I didn’t know that I did that.”

“That’s okay. I understand, you have issues with your torso.”

“Yeah”, he nods his head, “fuck sorry, I’m an idiot. I thought you were thinking something bad, that I looked weird or something.”

“No, my love. Not even for a millisecond.”

He nods his head, sagging his shoulders in relief.

“Okay. Uhm, thank you. I needed to hear this.”

“Of course, my love. Thank you for communicating.”

Yoongi glances at your lips, “can I give you a kiss?” he whispers.

“Yes, but careful the choco”, you allow him.

Together you make it work without spilling anything, ending the loving kiss with a little stub of your noses.

Yoongi leans back with his eyes racing over your face.

“Did I seriously suck in my stomach all the time?”

You nod your head.

“I didn’t realise that I did it.”

“I figured. When my current life started out and being naked in front of someone else suddenly became a regular thing, I began sucking in my tummy too until you helped me gain a lot of self confidence. I think we’re all a little too mean to the part of our body which literally keeps all our important organs safe and cozy”, you say and rub your tummy gently.

Yoongi chuckles, his eyes soften. You giggle, scrunching your nose.

“Does it look weird now that I’m not doing it?”

You shake your head, “it didn’t look weird as you did it and it doesn’t look weird now. You have the perfect tummy”, you say and give it a little rub.

Yoongi looks into his mug, trying not to smile but failing miserably. His cheeks are rosy.

“My cutie”, you say and kiss his cheek.

He turns his head, begging for a kiss with longing eyes and parted lips. You can’t deny him, not when he looks so pretty like this. You kiss him as best as the mugs allow you to.

You only break the kiss once air gets sparse.

“This was nice”, you whisper.

“Yeah. Nice”, he breathes, studying your lips as if they were his favourite artwork.

You kiss him unexpectedly, resulting in his lips to tremble and his breath to hitch in his throat. You don’t let it deepen as it was only supposed to be a quick kiss, sitting back and taking the first sip of the cocoa.

“Mhhm yummy”, you say and drink again.

Yoongi tries his’ as well, nodding his head in agreement.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s good. Really sweet though.”

“Yes, but that’s the best part. The sweet really makes it so yummy.”

“Yeah”, he agrees and licks his lips after taking a sip, “do you still wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure, I’d still be down. You?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“So no”, you chuckle.

“No, sorry.”

“That’s okay, we could do something else. Oooh, do you wanna try the game?”

The cabin offers a Wii (mounted to the dresser because people can be assholes) with some multiplayer party games installed. You have been talking about trying Mario Party ever since you realised that it was on there.

“Yeah we could do that. I’ll suck really bad though”, he says.

“That’s okay. I’m not the best either”, you say and get off the couch to turn on the Wii, “should we compete against each other?”

“Can’t we be a team? Is that possible?” he pouts, “I don’t wanna compete against you”, he murmurs sadly.

“Fine, we’ll be a team. Okay, idea. One round we’re a team and another we’re competing? Just for fun?”

“Yeah, okay. I like this idea.”

The game is so much fun. You and Yoongi make up the perfect team. There is not a moment where one of you raises their voice or snaps at the other. The only times you and he get a little louder was during your victory cheers and especially thrilling moments during the mini games where you squealed and squeaked in excitement. It was shared squealing however and based on the thrill of the game.

The second round was just as fun. Your cocoas have long been finished and you are cuddling under the blanket. You have your head on Yoongi’s chest while he is resting against the pillows. You can feel his voice whenever he speaks and you always get gently shaken around whenever he is caught by the thrill of a mini game.

Yoongi ends up winning and despite his initial distaste against competing, he is very smug about it.

“What can I say, I’m natural”, he says, putting the control down, “waaah, I’m a genius”, he sighs and drops his head into the pillows, smirking like the cocky little shit he currently is.

“Wah, look at you gloating”, you tease, nudging his chin.

“I’m not. I’m just saying. I’m a total natural.”

You shimmy up his body until your chests are touching and you have him under you. Your elbows rest in the pillows, his big hands rest themselves on your lower back. He is looking up at you with a smirk, yet fond eyes.

“You’re cocky”, you say, combing your fingers through his hair mindlessly.

“You’re just salty that you lost.”

“Wow”, you laugh, “and here I was thinking that you didn’t wanna compete against me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Mh-hm sure”, you joke.

Yoongi chuckles deeply. His face is glowing in adoration. You brush his bangs out of his face, giving his forehead a little massage as you do it. Over and over. It feels so nice to Yoongi. He feels in paradise right now. Your weight is on him, the blanket traps your shared body heats and your heart is beating so calmly against his chest. Your touch is also so gentle and filled with love and Yoongi thinks that you look especially pretty right now.

He is in heaven.

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. You can nuzzle your nose against his neck like this and Yoongi can hug you so, so tightly. He does it instantly, rubbing your back up and down and in little circles.

“This is so cozy”, you whisper.

“Yeah, it’s cozy”, he agrees with his eyes closed.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Yeah. Please.”

And so it happens that you cuddle for heaven knows how many minutes. It is so wonderful to both of you. To be so close, to share warmth, to hug and snuggle and adore. It is truly the best ending of an already amazing evening. You don’t talk a lot during the cuddles and that’s perfect. There is no better kind of comfort than truly enjoying the cuddles without any kind of distractions.

You are soon starting to get sleepy however. Well, Yoongi more than you. And so you agree on leaving the couch for bed cuddles instead. You brush your teeth next to each other and while you leave for the bedroom first, Yoongi stays back to use the loo.

You are sitting on the bed when he comes in. A candle is burning on the bedside table. Yoongi joins you on bed, lying down on his side while you keep seated. He looks up at you with a toothless, cute smile and reaches out to hold your hand. He is tracing your knuckles as he does.

You retort the smile, shimmying into a more intimate position by taking a second pillow and using it to support your left arm. You are also on your side, giving Yoongi an opportunity to hide away in your chest. He takes it instantly, stubbing you with his nose as content, little purrs leave him.

You close your arms around him, burying your right hand deep in his hair. You play with it, massaging his scalp and his exposed ear whenever you get the chance. His purrs grow in volume each time you pay attention to his ear, and from what you can tell, he rubs his feet together under the blanket whenever it happens.

“Are you comfy?” you ask him in a soft voice.

“Yeah”, he whispers, nodding his head. He slides his hand under your shirt, rubbing your waist slowly. His palm feels incredibly soft against your skin, he warms you so well.

“Me too, my love”, you say and peck his ear. You follow it up with a little rub of his earlobe. Yoongi purrs and wiggles his toes. If someone would ever ask him the definition of perfect moment, he would say it is this one. To know that no one else is around and that he can truly let all his guards down is so incredibly relaxing to Yoongi. He likes life at the estate, he likes living together with his forever family, but sometimes he still feels a little too nervous to let go because of the possibility of someone walking in on you and him. So this holiday has been a dream for him. It’s just you and him and that means he can be the cuddly, snuggly boyfriend he so longs to be.

“Boongie?” you whisper into the silence.

“Mhm”, he hums, sounding sleepy.

“I have an idea.”

“Mhm.”

“What if I used the candle to give you a massage?”

‘“Mhm? What?” he breathes.

“It’s a massage candle and I could use the wax to massage your back. You know? Rub your shoulders, trace your spine, get that tension out your lower back”, you say, scratching his back in demonstration.

Yoongi shivers at the touch, rubbing his feet together.

“Would you like that? I just think that it could be romantic.”

“Yeah”, he whispers.

“Yeah?”

He nods his head.

“Oh Yoongi”, you hug him against you, “I’m so happy. Wow, I’m gonna make you feel so good and cozy”, you say and break the hug to get the candle instead.

Yoongi takes off his shirt in the meantime, lying down on his tummy. He lifts his arms above his head, hugging the pillow this way and squishing his cheek against it. He is watching you with half-lidded eyes, anticipating the massage with a fluttering tummy. You could do anything to him right now. Anything, as long as it means that he can stay in this cozy dream forever.

“Oh? You’re already shirtless. Wow”, you say and crawl to him. The candle you have already blown out, holding it safely in your hand, “are you excited?”

He nods his head.

“Me too. I like massages.”

He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say more.

“Actually, I like pampering you in general. Have you noticed?”

Yoongi thinks of all the countless, wonderful times you pampered him. All the baths you made him, all the times you washed his hair and soaped his body, all the massages and “super duper special king spa treatments” you give him, all the flower bouquets you make him and all the small little rubs and touches you give him throughout the day. Yoongi thinks of every time he felt adored and pampered by you and he feels his entire body tingle in reaction.

“Yeah”, he answers you, arching his back into your touch because you placed your hand on his back.

“I really like doing it”, you confess and sit down on the back of his thighs.

Yoongi hopes that you never stop doing it. He feels so unworthy of it sometimes until he remembers that you wouldn’t like it if you knew that he is putting himself down. Then he starts feeling grateful for it.

“Are you comfy like this? Am I too heavy?”

“You’re never too heavy. You’re perfect”, he lulls his words, having his eyes closed.

“Thank you, this is so sweet of you to say.”

You rub your right hand up and down his back, tracing the way his spine swirls with your fingertips.

“Are you ready? It will be really warm.”

“Yeah, ready.”

“Okay, here it comes”, you say and tilt the candle.

Yoongi reacts in a full body squirm and his thighs tensing under you. You trace his spine, painting a waxy line from between his shoulder blades down to his tailbone.

“How is the temperature?”

“Nice”, he sighs.

You place the candle aside and begin spreading the massage oil with the flat of your palms.

“Oh it feels so nice. Really warm. It’s like a warm oil pour”, you say as you work carefully to cover every inch of his back with the oil.

“Mhm”, he hums, nodding his head slowly.

“Oh my love”, you gush, “my love, your skin is so soft. You’re so perfect, my love.”

Yoongi flusters. He stays silent because he is shy and doesn’t know how to react to your compliments, but he hopes that you never stop with them. He loves being adored. He loves it so much. Staying alone and sheltered was never better than having someone like you in his life. He loves being loved and he loves loving in return.

Now that the oil is evenly distributed, you begin with the massage. You start off with his shoulders, using your thumbs to locate the tenser spots and using them as well to break them down in circular motions.

“You barely have knots, my love”, you tell him, massaging along his shoulder blades.

“Is ‘cause you always massage me”, he mumbles with his lips naturally pouted by the position he finds himself in.

“Yeah, that’s true. I do massage you a lot”, you say, “but then, you massage me a lot too.”

“Mhm. Is nice.”

“Very nice.”

“All of it is nice.”

“Yeah? Am I doing well?”

He nods his head and shivers as you run your fingertips along his skin.

“All of it’s nice”, he repeats, “I like this trip so much.”

“Me too, Boongie. I like it so much. You really picked out the perfect place.”

“Thank you. I wanted it to be perfect. You’re my love.”

You feel your heart swell in your chest. You run your eyes over his features with butterflies dancing in your tummy. He is such a loving person. He always says that he is cold and unfamiliar with romance, but he is so full of love. He is warm and sweet and loves without being aware that he does. You lean down and kiss the shell of his ear.

“You’re my love too”, you whisper.

“Mhm”, he hums happily and smiles slightly, “I like the cocoa every night.”

“Yeah, me too and all the yummy food you make.”

“Yeah, thank you. I try to be good.”

“You are the best. I’m so spoiled with you”, you kiss his ear again, “and lucky”, you add, giggling sweetly as you squeeze him gently.

“No, I’m lucky”, he corrects you and shifts as you trace his spine, “I like it there.”

“Yeah? There?”

You trace his spine by massaging along each side of it. He has little dimples at his lower back. You include them in circular motions before going up again. You repeat it over and over. Down to his dimples and up to his shoulders.

“There is nice.”

“Then I’ll keep doing that”, you say and fall silent together with him.

You and he share in the silence for a while. The only thing audible is the faint sound of your hands gliding over his oiled-up back. The sound is just as relaxing as the massage. For both of you. And while Yoongi enjoys the touch, you find great relaxation at the sight. You love how his skin and muscles shift and move under your fingertips. It is both fascinating and deeply relaxing. He looks so soft and squishable. You love it.

“Can you do my legs too?” Yoongi breaks the silence in a whisper.

“Your legs?” you whisper as well.

“Nevermind, it’s fucking stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Of course I can do your legs. You just gotta help me with your pants, I got oily hands.”

“Yeah, okay. Cover my butt with something.”

“Okay I will.”

Yoongi shimmies out of his pants, kicking off the last few inches. You place one corner of the blanket over his butt, giving him a little pat.

“There we go. All modest.”

“Don’t touch my butt.”

“I’m not touching your butt, doofus”, you chuckle, “stay still, I’m getting more oil.”

“I’m serious, don’t touch my butt.”

“As a matter of fact, I will, Yoongi. I will only touch your butt from now on", you tease him sarcastically.

“Whatever", he murmurs, closing his eyes again because you are moving to his legs.

You snicker, “doofus. By how you keep talking about it, Imma think you secretly want me to touch your butt.”

“No, I don’t. You’re wrong.”

“Okay okay if you say so”, you say with a fond chuckle on your lips. You begin spreading the oil on the back of his calves, “are your legs in pain?”

“Yeah, they’re sore from walking.”

“I’m surprised that you can get sore.”

“Yeah well….it’s bad.”

“Aaah I see. It is so bad and not just a scheme to get me to massage you longer.”

“Yeah, it’s bad.”

You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say and begin feeling up his calves, “and genuinely tense. Wow, does this hurt?”

“A little. It’s okay.”

“Sorry, I gotta loosen you up.”

“It’s okay”, he assures you, “we gotta take a break from walks tomorrow.”

“What? Noo, I was so excited for the walk. Can’t we do it again?”

“Fine, okay. We’ll take a walk tomorrow.”

“Yay, thank you Boongie.”

“Mhm”, he hums. A second of silence then he chuckles.

“Tickles?”

“No, I’m just laughing at myself.”

“Why?”

“You give me one whine and I’m already saying yes. Fuck, I’m so weak for you”, he says and laughs.

“Yeah, true”, you snicker, “maybe I’m just a really good convincerer.”

“That’s not even a word”, he cackles.

“Yeah it is. Just like skincarer is. And massagerer.”

He snorts, shaking his head. He covers his eyes with his own hand, laughing with his shoulders.

You laugh with him, wiggling your shoulders happily. You love making him laugh. This is your greatest joy in life.

“You’re so silly”, he says and sighs loudly, “god. Convincerer”, he murmurs and snickers to himself.

“You must admit, it got a ring to it.”

“I guess, yeah.”

You snicker and lower your eyes back to his legs. You guide your hands up his calves until you have his thighs under your palms. You continue the path, applying pressure to get out some of the tension. You stop at the edge of the blanket corner and drag your hands back down his legs again. All the way to his ankles. Back up with the goal of going down at the end.

“Is this doing something for you?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

You want to keep doing this motion for a bit because it really helps loosening everything up. Yoongi falls silent and so you share it with him. The wonderful thing about being with each other is that you can both talk and be quiet and it’s equally nice to do. Massages are the perfect time for both and it seems that Yoongi is in the mood for silence right now.

What you don’t know however is that Yoongi has very sensitive thighs (you know that) and that your innocent touches suddenly start to feel very exciting to him. They feel nice and tingly on his calves and the back of his thighs, but feel almost electric on the inside of them.

You rub your hands up his thighs, guiding your thumb along his inner thighs this way. Yoongi follows the touch, feeling flutters in his stomach.

He wants to get back in control. He doesn’t want to ruin this sweet moment by being horny. He isn’t like this. Not him.

Your thumbs draw circles on his upper most thighs. Yoongi shivers and bites down on his own lower lip.

But it’s so hard to stay calm. Oh it is so hard.

Down again. Your attention is on his calves for now, while Yoongi wishes for it to be on his thighs instead. You draw relaxing lines for a little while and then you finally take on your journey up his thighs.

Nice and relaxing on the back of them, but electric on the inside. Yoongi opens his legs just a little.

“Is that nice?” you ask him and stay lingering on his inner thighs.

Yoongi had hoped you would. That is why he spread his legs like a needy boy in the first place.

“Nice”, he sighs, twisting a bundle of the pillow as his senses blur. He can feel every second of your touch.

It is so obviously innocent. So full of love and adoration and the desire to relax. Yoongi feels so guilty for making it into something so exciting, but he can’t help himself. He’s got such sensitive thighs and your fingers carry special magic in them. One touch was enough to enchant him and now he is paying the consequences. On top of that, he is feeling so cozy and good tonight. This is a happy kind of horny.

Your fingers slide under the hem of the sheets, brushing against the swell of his buttocks. Yoongi tenses up, not in discomfort but desire. He is on fire. This is making him so needy.

“Oops, sorry. Too far”, you gasp, retreating your touch instantly.

Yoongi lifts his butt, aching for your touch.

“Please.”

Your stomach tingles. You feel intensely overwhelmed for just a second. He looked so needy.

“I’m sorry?” you ask him, gawking at him with widened eyes and your hands resting on the back of his thighs.

“Mh-hm fuck”, he gets out and squirms. He lifts his hips again, tensing his thighs.

Your heart flutters. He is needy. This isn’t just a silly trick of your mind. Your innocent touches made him needy. You genuinely didn’t plan on doing this to him, so this is speeding up your pulse insanely.

“What’s the matter?” you ask him, rubbing his inner thighs to soothe him. This touch is not of innocent nature. This is meant to make him needier.

“Horny”, he whispers and lifts his butt again.

“Wow, this just made me so excited. You just opened the floodgates”, you say and chuckle, “are you serious?”

He nods his head and squirms, opening his legs further.

“Touch me. Please”, he begs quietly.

“Your bum?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t you specifically tell me not to touch your butt?”

“I was dumb. Wanna be touched. Please.”

“Fuck, you’re hot. Wow Boongie, I didn’t plan for this evening to go that way, but I’m so excited”, you say and giggle. You claim the space above him for a moment, leaning down to bite his ear gently.

Yoongi sighs, tilting his head to give you better access.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Mh-hm yeah. What do you want me to do?” you ask him.

“Just do anything.”

“Not enough, I need you to use your words.”

Yoongi whines in embarrassment, shaking his head. You close your fingers around the back of his neck and squeeze in warning. He mewls quietly.

“Finger me”, he chokes out, following it up with a shy, “fuck, please.”

“That’s better”, you praise and caress his neck, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, my love”, you whisper, basking in his breathy sighs. He looks so pretty making them with his lips parted and his eyes closed. You kiss his ear, “now stay. I’m getting the lube.”

Being organised is awesome because it only takes you a few seconds to get what you need. Lube and a little surprise for later. You’ll make sure to include it once Yoongi is blissed out.

You climb on top of him and rub his back. Yoongi moves into the touch, relaxing under it. He is so excited. Being touched and pampered made him feel so needy tonight. Ninety percent of your massage nights don’t end in sex. They are truly just relaxing bonding moments to you and him, so tonight is an exception. An exception you are more than willing to take advantage of. You love when Yoongi gets the kind of needy where he begs for your touch. Those occasions are rare and precious. And leave you way too needy for more.

You draw circles on his lower back, using the opportunity to pull off the blanket. Yoongi arches his back the moment he is exposed, presenting his bubble butt to your eyes.

“So pretty”, you say and grab his buttocks to knead them. He’s got so much to offer. For someone who is naturally petite, he has the most voluptuous butt ever. You love it and how it feels between your fingers.

Yoongi purrs, feeling his head begin to blur. You are exposing his hole every now and then, making him need it to be touched and explored. The air feels so cold on his skin, all he wants is your warm touch and the stretch of your fingers filling his hole.

Except that the first experience you give him is that of your insanely warm and wet tongue grinding against his hole.

“Ah”, Yoongi moans loudly, tensing his thighs. He wants to cum. That’s how fucking good the surprise feels. He is suddenly so fucking excited and turned on and giddy that he could genuinely burst.

“Mhm, mhm, mhm”, you let out as pull back with a sigh, “mhm so good”, you lick his hole, “so good, mhm”, you bury your face between his buttocks and grind the flat of your tongue against his hole by nodding your head.

Yoongi didn’t plan on being loud, but here he is. Being loud. And it is solely because you decided to start it off by using your mouth on him. Him. The man with the biggest oral fixation ever. The man who absolutely loses every functioning brain cell the second your mouth is on any kind of pleasure spot. Yoongi didn’t plan on being loud, but it’s fucking impossible when you are giving him his favourite thing.

You break away again with a slurp. It is just for gathering your saliva because seconds later, you are spitting on his hole. You pick it up with your pointer and middle finger, spreading it on his hole in upwards and downwards motions.

Yoongi reaches behind himself and spreads his own ass, dimpling his buttocks this way.

“That’s my good boy, spread yourself for me”, you talk to him sweetly, gazing at his exposed hole with love drunk eyes. He is so pretty.

Yoongi obeys gladly, feeling hazy. You made him wet, which makes the air feel so much colder on his skin. Never before did he crave your warm touch more than right now.

He mewls softly, arching his back.

“You’re so pretty”, you say and place your hands over his’. You lower your tongue back to his begging hole and lap at it in quick, short licks. He flinches each time you do, clenching under your tongue needily.

“Fuck…”

This is driving him insane. It feels so good. Your tongue is so wet and warm. Your hands over his’ feel so adoring and safe.

Yoongi buries his face in the pillow and groans. He drags out the sound until he has to breathe in, doing so in gasps and wiggles of his hips.

“You’re cute”, you say, lifting your mouth from his hole. You make up for the loss of contact by rubbing his wet rim, playing with his balls with your other hand. He has the softest skin. You love feeling it up and giving it a good massage.

“Good. Good what you’re doing”, he gets out, parting himself wider. He sticks his butt out just a little, presenting his hole almost proudly.

Oh what a contrast to his once shy nature. He talked about covered butts and you staying away from it and now look at him. He is arching his back and parting himself willingly.

“Keep it like that, love”, you order him, lifting your hands for just a few moments so you could reach for a spare pillow. You place it under him, guiding hid hips down gently.

Yoongi loves when you guide him, rolling his hips into the pillow as if he was making love to it.

“So needy”, you giggle and reach to your side for the lube.

“Yeah”, he agrees.

“Mhm, I love it. Spread yourself again, my love.”

He obeys instantly, waiting for your touch with bated breath.

You open the lube bottle and tilt it over his hole, letting some of the lube trickle down.

He doesn't react to it, but that is because he is Yoongi and he sometimes likes to stay quiet during sex. He also doesn’t react when you touch his rim to spread the lube, but you don’t mind these days.

It was a little different at first. Of course it was. Having him be quiet even during something normally as vocal as sex was surprising at first, but with time and learning each other’s intimacy languages, you really started to enjoy his quiet moments. Because as long as Yoongi is quiet, it means he is so lost in the pleasure that he forgets to make sounds.

“You’ve got the prettiest hole”, you praise because you love filling the silence with words of adoration. He deserves them.

“Mhm.”

“Ready?”

“Yeah, ready”, he says and lifts his hips a little.

“I’ll start with one.”

“Do it.”

You rub the pad of your finger up and down his hole a few times before finally pushing in.

Yoongi loses all kinds of tension in his body instantly, sinking into the pillow as if you just pushed the turn off button to his muscle functions. He releases an audible sigh, following it up with a small “mhm”.

“Slipped right in. You’re so soft, my love”, you purr, moving your finger in and out carefully, “hurts? You’re so tight.”

“No. Good. So good.”

“That’s good to hear. Tell me if it’s uncomfy.”

“Is good, keep going please.”

There is something deeply meditative about fingering Yoongi. Which is something highly unusual to say about such a sexy act, but it really relaxes you tonight. You aren’t going fast or rough, chasing the pleasure like a madwoman craving her high. No. Tonight, you are going slow and gentle, making it all about the journey rather than the destination.

You are taking time to really savour it and worship him in the process. While your dominant hand is busy with loosening his hole gently, your other hand is busy caressing his back and sides. You rub your palm up and down, trace his spine and give the softer spot a little squeeze. All while your finger gives him the feeling of being full he so dearly craved.

Yoongi feels in paradise. He likes when you are rough and you force the pleasure to the surface. But there is something insanely healing about being eased into it. You take time, take it slow, keep it gentle. Yoongi feels so cherished and safe when you give it to him slowly.

And how much more intensely it builds up. The warmth goes so much deeper and feels so much hotter than if you did it fast.

It has been quiet for some time already until Yoongi breaks it with a whisper of your name. He sounds so out of breath and hazy.

"Yes, my love?"

“Can you use a second finger?”

“Of course”, you say and slip out to put more lube. You give his rim a little rub and slide back inside. Two fingers at a time, you go slow to prevent pain. The pain never comes, only warm tingles so, so deep inside him.

He groans, clenching around you needily.

“So tight again”, you speak softly, pumping your digits in and out of him. You curl them each time they pass his prostate, sending electricity all through his body.

“Mhhm”, his voice shook as he made the sound.

“More lube?”

He shakes his head, “feels so good.”

Your stomach tingles. He is so sexy when he talks like this.

“Mhm”, you hum and lean down to kiss your way up along his back until you have his ear under your lips. You keep the rhythm of your fingers going, nibbling on his ear slowly.

Yoongi sighs, chasing your kisses with shivers running down his back. They go straight to his prostate, allowing your fingers to feel so much better than they already. Which means a lot because he is genuinely so far gone in paradise.

“You feel so good”, he sighs and follows it up with a deep, happy moan.

“Mhm, my good boy”, you praise him and sit back up so you could really concentrate on fingering him.

The tranquillity returns. Slow and gentle, you fuck open his pretty hole. You watch every shift and change, take in how it hugs your digits and moves around them and caress his back as you do it. Truly, you could do this for hours. Tranquillity might have returned, but Yoongi is a lot noisier than he was before.

He gasps and sighs. He lets out little moans and deep groans. He even purrs and whispers your name every now and then. You kiss his back or ear with every sound he makes, feeling so entirely high on this moment that you have to moan with him every now and then.

You are sitting, gazing at his loose hole when Yoongi speaks again. Or begs for that matter.

“Faster.”

“Faster. Like this?” you ask and speed up by curling your fingers against his prostate repeatedly.

“Ye-yes. Holy fuck, urgh god”, he groans and lifts his hips off the pillow to press back on your fingers.

“Shit, is this doing it for you?”

“Yeah, yah, y-yeahah.”

“This is so hot. So fucking hot, oh god.”

“___, please don’t stop aaah.”

“I won’t, my love. Fuck, this is so hot”, you moan, switching between looking at his flushed hole and his scrunched face.

It is buried halfway in the sheets, glowing in bliss. Strands of his hair are sticking to his forehead, his brows are furrowed tightly. His cheeks are so pink, his lips are as well.

“You’re so handsome, it’s insane”, you croak and look at his butt.

He can’t stop fucking back onto your fingers in squirmy arches of his back. It must feel so good. You are hitting the right spot. The truly, perfect right spot.

“I wanna make you feel so good, Yoongi love. Shit, wanna make you shake”, you confess and speed up, adding movement to the curls. You use your wrist for it.

Yoongi’s moans grow in volume and in quantity. If he isn’t moaning, he is gasping and breathing out the neediest curses.

“Holy fuck, it feels so good. What the fuck are you doing?” he chokes out as he tries and fails to get on his knees. His legs are shaking too much to hold his weight. He is destined to drop back into the pillow and use what little strength his hips offer to fuck back onto your fingers.

“What are you doing to me? Oh god”, he keens, shaking under you.

“Is it that good?”

“Yeeeees”, he groans and grabs the sheets above his head to twist them desperately, “fuck ___, fuck holy fuck.”

“I’m going insane, you are so sexy”, you moan, staring at him with blown out pupils. His ass is so noisy all of a sudden. So wet and greedy. You need to give it to him harder and make the noises grow.

And oh how they grow. He sounds so wet, matching the volume with loud moans and needy variations of the word “yes” and your name. Truly, two words are enough to drive you mad.

“You’re taking me so well”, you try to praise him, but quite frankly you can barely get the words out. He is stealing your sanity by being such a handsome, perfect man for you.

“A-ah ah aha ha”, Yoongi moans loudly, arching his back repeatedly as you abuse his prostate in the most amazing ways. He is close. His stomach is so tight, his legs so weak and the fire between them is reaching unbearable levels. You worked him up and now the crescendo is close. Yoongi swears he might need to scream soon.

“Mhhm Yoongi, that’s it. That’s my kitten.”

He is so restless, so squirmy and shaky. It is turning you on like crazy. Your fingers are starting to get tired, but you don’t slow down. You want to give him the fingerfuck of the century. He deserves to feel amazing.

“I have to cum”, he moans, shaking like crazy, “ah ah”, he squeaks breathily, getting on his knees to fuck back. His legs tremble uncontrollably, but he preservers, arching his back oh so prettily.

“You’re so sexy. You’re so fucking pretty.”

“I have to, to cu-cum. ___ ah”,

“I’m not slowing down baby, cum on my fingers. Go on, show me.”

Yoongi yelps up in pleasure, breaking apart on your skilled fingers. He is clenching and pulsating around you, burying his face in the mattress so he wouldn’t scream. His fingers are twisting the sheets, his body twitches repeatedly. He isn’t leaking from his cock, which means he is currently experiencing the best kind of orgasm ever. A prostate orgasm. So intense and deep inside and insanely addictive, that one is never enough.

Yoongi drops into the sheets once the shaking finally subsides. He huffs out air repeatedly, writhing weakly. He is tensing around your fingers, fucking the pillow as he keeps chasing the warmth. Of course one isn’t enough.

“More”, he begs, “more please.”

“You’re driving me insane”, you croak, “god, my fingers are gonna cramp. Give me a second, yeah?” you say and pull out.

“Please back. More please, don’t stop. Back”, he begs desperately.

“I am. Feel it”, you say and drag the tip of the prostate vibrator over his hole, “do you know what this is?”

“Yeah”, Yoongi exhales, feeling drowsy in excitement.

“Do you want it?”

“Yeah, please.”

“Here it comes”, you say and push it in easily.

Yoongi purrs, pushing back onto it. Once it sits snug inside him, you turn it on with a press of the button, switching to his favourite setting instantly. You don’t want to make him wait, not when he is so beautifully lost in bliss. Tonight is about him and giving him as much pleasure as possible.

Yoongi turns into jelly instantly, melting into the pillow. He releases small moans and purrs, enjoying the intense vibrations with parted lips and closed eyes. His prostate is throbbing. No words will ever be able to describe how good the toy feels after such an intense high.

“Feels good?”

He nods his head vigorously. His cheeks are flushed, his pink lips so wet from his drool.

“That’s good to hear”, you say and lay down beside him, running your hand up and down his back. You prop yourself up on your elbow and lean down to kiss whatever parts of his face are exposed.

Yoongi chases you with needy purrs and quick gasps. He spills tears, whimpering so heartbreakingly that you get worried.

You shoot up, cupping his cheek.

“What’s the matter? Does it hurt?”

Yoongi peels his eyes open, looking at you in devotion. He spills a few tears.

“I love you”, he chokes out.

“I love you too”, you whisper, “oh Yoongi, you are so full of love.”

He whimpers and touches your hand. You hold it instantly, enjoying how he is squeezing you weakly.

“Am I yours?” he asks.

“You’re mine. So entirely mine”, you whisper, brushing his hair out of his sweaty forehead.

Yoongi rolls his eyes back and closes them, growing slack in blissed relief. He is yours. Entirely yours. This feels so good to hear.

He furrows his brows and moans. The reassurance makes the toy feel insanely good all of a sudden. Better than it already did.

“Touch my cock, please”, he hears himself beg even though his brain currently can’t process anything other than the addicting pleasure deep inside him.

“Of course, my love. My beautiful love”, you say and give his forehead a kiss for good measures before you shimmy down between his legs again.

His cock lies perfectly so you can take it between your fingers and jerk it. You pick up some lube as well, spreading it all over his cock and balls.

The vibrator still purrs and pulsates inside him as you begin your cock massage. You go slow for now, paying attention to his balls as well. They are so big and hard already. You know he is going to cum so fucking messily once it’s time.

“Oh god”, Yoongi croaks and twists the sheets, curling his toes as well. His hips chase your hand, trembling weakly because the pleasure is making him so feeble.

“Now I can feel you all up”, you say and run your hands all over his cock, “you’ve got the prettiest cock. Such a pretty cock.”

“I can’t do this for long.”

“It’s okay. Tonight’s about you, my prince. Let go whenever you need to.”

Yoongi melts even deeper into the sheets. Yes, that’s possible. You are ruining him to the very core and it feels so good that Yoongi loves every fucking second of being so entirely weak. Your hand is moving exactly how he needs it to. There is pressure around his cock, your warmth is seeping deep into him and your skin is so incredibly soft. You touch him with love. Yoongi can feel it. This isn’t just a touch meant to make him climax, this is a touch placed with love and adoration and because he is important to you.

Yoongi fears that he might black out once he has to orgasm. You have him so weak.

“I have to- ah.”

“It’s okay, my prince. Let go. Just let go”, you encourage him with your sparkling eyes glued to his cock. It is so pink and flushed, glistening prettily because you make him so, so wet.

“___”, Yoongi moans your name, which makes the orgasm which follows even more intense. Your name means everything to him. Having it be the last thing he can form before his orgasm utterly ruins him, makes him feel actually fucking high.

Guttural moans follow after your name, his body shakes so much.

“That’s it. Give me everything. That’s my prince, you’re such a good boy. Give me everything”, you talk him through it, feeling dizzy at the view. He is shooting so much cum and doing it so aggressively at that, that it is covering all of your hands and most of the sheets between his legs.

“God baby, I’m milking you dry. You’re such a good prince, my love. Such a good pretty prince.”

“___ please don’t- ah! stop!”

“I’m not stopping, my love. I want everything of you, you’re such a good boy like this”, you speak softly while your hand pumps his throbbing cock quickly. You apply pressure whenever you reach his tip, squeezing ever single droplet of cum out of him this way.

“___ please, ___”, Yoongi moans into the sheets, shaking harder with every repetition of your name.

He won’t be able to go again after this one, you can already sense it. You are completely destroying him to his very core and he loves it. You love it too. You really, really fucking do.

“Good boy, that’s my good boy. Give me everything”, you moan, allowing him to truly release everything with just a squeeze of your fingers around his tip and a gentle fondle of his balls, “fuck look at you, that’s my prince, squirt for me. Fuuck.”

Yoongi is screaming. At least what he considers screaming. Fuck, it feels so much better than good. This is healing. He didn’t even know how much tension he had inside until you finally squeezed it out of him.

Yoongi doesn’t know how long his orgasm takes, but he knows that once it starts to die down, everything begins to hurt fast. He feels so drained and ruined and his nerves beg for a break.

“Stop”, he croaks weakly, tensing up in discomfort.

“Enough?”

He nods his head, fleeing your hand.

“Good boy, I’m already stopping”, you say and drop his cock to turn off the toy. You go to pull it out, but Yoongi stops it.

“Leave it, please.”

“Okay, I will”, you and bend down to kiss along his spine, “god Yoongi, you’re such a good boy. And you’re so handsome and pretty and beautiful. My love, my beautiful love”, you whisper as you worship his back with kisses and touches.

Yoongi melts into a puddle of safe relaxation. There is no better way to recover than being adored by you. You do it so honestly. He always feels so much because of it.

Once you reach his face, you lie down on your side again, propping yourself up on your elbow. You run your fingers over his face and through his hair, tracing his ear as well. You want him to feel how much you adore him and that he can feel safe with you.

Yoongi enjoys your touches with closed eyes and soft purrs. He feels safe and adored. You are doing such a good job in showing it.

Like this, you and he share moments of tranquillity again where no words need to be exchanged because being with each other is already enough to understand everything.

The tranquillity gets broken by Yoongi fluttering his eyes open. You smile at him instantly.

“Thank you”, he whispers.

“That was a hell of a massage wasn’t it?”

He chuckles tiredly, nodding his head. If it was humanly possible, his pupils would be little hearts right now. But it isn’t possible and so he gazes at you as if you were his fucking everything (which you are).

“Mhm”, you peck his cheek, “I had so much fun. I love when you’re so relaxed and clearly enjoying it. I love your moans, my love.”

“I loved it a lot”, he says and closes his eyes again, “you’re perfect.”

“No, you are perfect, my love. Gosh, I could eat you”, you say and bite his cheek.

Yoongi chuckles as much as he whines, leaning into it.

“Heh”, you let out, “now lie still, I’m cleaning you up. You made such a mess”, you say as you sit up to start cleaning.

“It felt so good. I couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t apologise, my love. I told you, I’m obsessed with you when you’re being like this.”

“Mhm.”

“The sheets are gonna be so cold and wet tonight though. Oh god, I think we need to pay for deep cleaning.”

“Afterwards. You’re gonna get them messy too.”

“Oh? Ohoho Yoongi, what do you mean?” you coo playfully as you squeeze his buttocks softly.

“You know what I mean.”

“Mhm, I do. I’m really excited for it.”

“Mhm.”

“Wanna keep the toy still inside?” you ask as you run your hands up and down his messy inner thighs.

“Maybe a bit longer. Sorry, it’s so nice.”

“Don’t apologise. You can keep it in for as long as you want to”, you say and lean down to bite his left buttocks.

Yoongi complains loudly, but soon breaks into happy giggles with you. The giggles will continue all throughout the cleaning where you and he can’t seem to stop joking around and will only slowly die down once you and he are cuddling because for some reason, Yoongi can’t stop making funny noises and cracking you up with them.

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solaiced · 1 month ago

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CASE 3: THE SPACE BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS IS EMPTY, KAMO CHOSO WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU!

!content!: choso is whiny, thigh fucking, and mentions of yuuji.

wc: 449

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was right after you washed your skin care off.

Choso barely understood the concept of it, but he understood the importance of it for you. Which is why he waited for you to finish your routine so he could ask if you guys could fuck.

“Sorry Choso, but I wanted to read tonight.” You confess guilty about rejecting him for the fourth time this week.

“Oh. Then…” He points to the tiny crevice between your thighs, right below where he would usually be inside of. “Can I go there? I promise I won’t move you too much, so you can read steadily.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“You wanna fuck my thighs?” You ask and he nods, very much excited at the fact that you understood him.

“Sure, go ahead.” You smile, pleased at the agreement you both came to.

So, a few minutes later, you laid on your stomach and opened your kindle to start reading while Choso planted himself on the backs of your thighs , his leaking cock resting on your ass. He begins to put himself between your plush thighs, letting out the most beautiful sounds only sex could produce.

“Are you all set?” You ask, looking back at Choso. He nods, thighs around your hips.

“I can move right?” He whines, untied dark hair coming to shield his eyes.

“Go ahead, baby.” He hums, thanking you softly before thrusting.

However, when his tip catches on the hood of your clit, you cry out, dropping the kindle.

“I’m sorry!” Choso groans, head thrown back.

“Be careful!” You scold, sweat coating your skin. He hums, thrusting again, the wetness of your cunt lubing him.

He curses, closing his eyes as tears flow freely down his soft, red cheeks. You felt slightly aroused, the fact that Choso was so hard for you flattered you immensely, the way he whined and babbled your name as if you were his only chance at salvation.

“L-Love, where- where do I-“

“Back.” You cut him off, having anticipated the question. The book was long forgotten as you clench your thighs together to alleviate the throbbing in your cunt and the sting of his balls hitting the backs of your thighs.

Choso whimpers as he finally cums, hips stuttering clumsily when he coats your back in white, his cock, worn out, goes limp as he sighs wistfully, dropping his weight of you.

You cry out, his body crushing you.

“Sorry. I forgot you arent as strong as Yuuji.” He mumbles, shifting his weight.

“What?”

“I mean, when I hug Yuuji, he is strong enough to support my weight.”

“So, you thought I was your brother.” You joke and he shoots up.

“No, I didn’t mean that!”

“I’m messing with you, get me a towel.” You snicker, picking up your book again.

“Yes ma’am, uh, yes, honey.” He leaves the room and comes back with a wet towel, cleaning you off and cuddling with you, his arm and leg swung over your side.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ FIN

#jjk smut #solace's works #kinktober 2024 #jujustu kaisen x reader #choso x reader #choso #choso smut #choso kamo

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

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Fours Company - Part 1

Everything is below the cut because this is just pretty much going to turn into porn. -Minors DNI

Summary - After hearing about Lyria and Azriel's agreement and arrangement with Feyre and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian are desperate for a taste.

Warnings - its long.. Smut. Fingering. Choking. Dom/sub dynamics. Fxf briefly, mxfxfxm dynamics play. Cassian is a switch. Subspace. Voyeurism. Degradation and praise. Free use mentioned.

A/N - I plead the 5th. Part 2 will be up soon. Also, peep "Slow Hand" link in my masterlist to learn about our dearest Lyria Vanserra.

Word count- Over 4k

Update:

Part 2

Lyria stretched her sore fingers, silently praising the Mother that her appointments were all finished for the day, and that she had opted to take a night off.

She loved Velaris, truly she did, and she was beyond thankful and blessed Rhysand had brought her here after her father had publicly disowned her Under the Mountain.

He had purchased her that very night to protect her, bringing her into the small sanctuary his chambers would become for the two of them down there. She cannot freely touch you anymore. You are safe here, he had held her against his chest, allowing her to cry and be angry.

She had nothing to repay him with, but a gift that the Cauldron, Mother, and love of research had bestowed on her. And the second night she spent in Rhysand's chambers, she had spent it working every ounce of tension the High Lord held out of his body. It became their routine. She'd play the part of his eye candy, never to be marked or touched by another, and she'd repay him by ensuring he was at least out of physical pain and discomfort.

Maybe that was why she was suddenly the most popular massage therapist in the city. Who wouldn't want to pay for the time of the female the High Lord and Lady, along with their Inner Circle, all go to and rave about so loudly in public? She loved Velaris, she reminded herself again, and Gods did she love money and all the expensive things that came with it.

It had been the massage on Lucien that did her in tonight. Her poor older brother was not even a client or booked, but she had found the knot while stretching his neck trying to help with a headache he'd told her he had for days. She'd asked him to lay down and worked his back, shoulders, and neck until it finally came out. It had taken 2 hours. 2 hours on top of the 15 massages she had already given today.

But she didn't regret it, she didn't regret a single thing as he thanked her and placed a soft kiss on her temple, promising her treats from every court he could manage to get to.

She didn't even regret it now as she rubbed the cream Madja had made into her own skin, eyes fluttering shut as the pain relieving ointment worked its magic as she slid her hands under a heat pack.

She could have slept like that, curled up in her soft bed, hands being warmed and relaxed as she used her magic to create the sounds of a forest in her dimmed room, but a knock on her door pulled her from the sleepy blissful state.

She got up, knowing if it was a knock this late, it was a member of the Inner Circle, and she'd never deny them, no matter how tired or aching her hands were.

Cassian was leaned against the door frame and she moved to welcome him in, immediately noting the casual sweatpants and t-shirt he wore. "Foxling," he said casually, taking a seat on the new couch Azriel had insisted on purchasing.

"General," her tone was questioning. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She didn't miss the twitch in Cassian's lip. Mentally noting it for later when Azriel would get here.

She watched him lean forward, eyes locked on her. "Nesta and I know about the situation with you, Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre." Heat filled Lyria's body as she nodded, immediately feeling a flush hit her face. "We want a similar one."

"You're very blunt tonight, Cassian." Lyria refused to meet his eyes. The discussion of the agreement with Rhys and Feyre had been done with Azriel present as Rhys approached you. "I would be more comfortable with my mate here."

Cassian smirked again as if he had prepared for that answer. "Azriel is currently in discussion with Nesta. I said "similar", little fox, not the same." He watched as she bit her lip. "We know you and Feyre swap. Rhys takes you out, plays with you with no actual sex, then goes home to his pretty little wife and family to fuck her brains out. Azriel takes Fey out, plays with her, and comes back here to rearrange your pretty little body. Nesta and I don't want to swap or to court. We just solely want to fuck you two. Whenever we'd like, wherever we'd like. With or without our mates involved. Do you understand what I'm asking for, doll?"

Her breath stilled in her throat and she nodded. "I would need to talk to Azriel." Cassian stood, coming over to her and backing her into the wall. "I can tell you right now, he's already agreed. He has conditions, just like he had with Rhysand." His arms came up, caging her between him and the wall. "The first of which is I do not get to be daddy, or sir, or show possession of you, and that's fine. The second is you had to offer submission willingly without him pressing you."

She nodded, they were similar rules to the ones he had with Rhysand. "I still need to talk to him before I agree."

"I know, princess," he was ranging pet names with her, she quickly figured out. Trying to see which one his brothers had not taken to ensure he had his own name for her. That one struck, he scent her arousal immediately. Cassian leaned forward, his mouth near the soft shell of her ear. "Don't make me wait too long, Lyria. I'll see you tomorrow for our session."

He pulled away from her, walking out the door with a soft goodnight. Once the door clicked shut, Lyria sunk against the wall, arousal flooding her mind. Her hand quickly found her heart, feeling it beating erratically as she took long deep breaths.

She had not noticed her mate appear until he was in front of her, ripping her leggings down and the tank top from her body.

Azriel quickly sunk two fingers into her soaking wet heat, making her back arch as he rested his forehead against hers. "I got you, babygirl."

He began pulling her apart. Lowering her completely to the floor. His hand found her throat as he pulled his fingers in and out of her the way she liked. "Does the idea of having Cassian inside of you turn you on, Lyria? Hmm?" He smirked as she whined, back arching as shadows began to play with her nipples and hold her hands down. "Or is it knowing Nesta wants to lick this pretty pink cunt until she's drowning that has you pent up?"

Lyria felt heat filling her body again as shock set in. Cassian had not even mentioned the possibility of Nesta touching her. Of gorgeous, gorgeous Nesta with her long hair buried between Lyria's legs. "Oh?" Azriel teased, slowing his fingers down. "Did Cassian not mention Nesta wants you, babygirl? Did he not mention how Nesta has started buying toys to fuck you with?" Azriel felt feral as he watched her writhing on the ground. "I can see it now. Cassian and I sat in chairs with whiskey in hand, watching Nesta dominate you while my shadows hold you down and keep you vulnerable to her every whim and wish. Her making you cum again and again and again until your squirting and begging for a break." He could feel his cock struggling, aching to be freed from his pants.

"Or imagine this for me," his fingers picked up pace again, hitting the spongy part of her walls and making her cry out. "Me with you naked in my lap, only letting you cum when Nesta thinks Cassian is being good enough. Or her forcing him to eat you out while I fuck her and he can only listen."

The deep growl in his voice had her tightening around his fingers. He groaned listening to the wetness of his fingers inside of her. "So delicous, babygirl. Making such a fucking mess on the floor. Should I make you lick it up while I fuck you? Do you want daddy to fuck you?"

Lyria nodded desperately, "Please daddy, Gods please!"

Azriel wasted no time, ripping his own clothing at the seams. He flipped her to her hands and knees and buried himself deep inside on his mate. He pushed her head down to where a small puddle of her slick had pooled on the floor. "Clean it, little whore."

He fucked her brutally. Holding her head down and watching as she licked her arousal and essence up. He immediately looked to find his and her high as quickly as possible after Ness had riled him up, whispering in his ear all the things she wanted to do to Lyria. All the things Azriel would now be stroking his own cock picturing until they came to life.

Lyria was just as desperate. The tension between her and Cassian had built when she was teaching him how to dance. She was attracted to the male, his hands, his thighs. She was attracted to Nesta. Her aura, her body, her quick wit. Her mind snapped back to her mate as that coil began to threaten to pop, but she knew better. She knew better than to cum without his permission. "Daddy, can I cum please?" His hand found her throat again, growling in appreciation for her submission.

"Cum on my cock, babygirl." She soaked him, screaming his name, chanting it over and over like a mantra as she milked him. He fell over the edge quickly after she did, collapsing onto his forearms on top of her.

The room was filled with the sound of their labored breathing and with the scent of sex. She opened the windows using her magic, knowing she'd have to air out her home before clients came tomorrow.

Azriel pulled out of her, falling to his back while pulling her on top of him. "You are under no obligation to say yes, Lyria." He stated as his hands began to run through her hair. He kissed the top of her head. "Your hands have been hurting today, I felt it through the bond."

Lyria nodded, lifting her hand that hadn't tangled itself in Azriel's dark hair. "I might need to take a week off," she admitted softly. "It's just so hard to say no. I've been working with anywhere from 8 to 15 clients a day depending how much time they book."

Azriel hummed, his chest almost vibrating with the deep sound. "Maybe we could go to Dawn for a week. Rhys has a cabin there near a river. Whenever my hands start to bother me, I go there and lay in the river."

"Cold therapy?" Azriel nodded at the question, admiring his mate's intelligence once again. "Do you want to?"

Azriel knew it was a double question. He looked at her, raising a brow. "Of course I'd love to sit naked with you in a river."

She shook her head, smiling. "Do you want to have an arrangement with Nesta and Cassian?"

He had already brought it up to Rhys and Feyre after talking to Nesta. The two of them did not care. They were as eager to share Lyria and Azriel's love and devotion with Cassian and Nesta as they were to take it for themselves. They just wanted a rotation and schedule worked out between the 6 of you to ensure Rhys still got his time with Lyria and Feyre her time with Azriel. An easy task in all honesty. "I am not against the idea. But it is your comfort level, my spark." He kissed her lips before moving to stand up with her and carry her to the bedroom. "Just let Cassian know tomorrow what you decided or if you need more time."

Lyria prepared the room for Cassian, her last client of the day. She switched to the custom table she had made for him and Azriel a few months ago, heating it with her magic before adding on the soft coverings and lighting Cassian's favorite candles that he said reminded her of a rainstorm in the mountains. She created that atmosphere with her powers and then waited.

She had Cassian for 2 hours. He had booked a longer session knowing that this would be his first massage since coming home from a 4 week trip the training camps. She had been working with Madja on a special oil and lotion for massages and was excited to use it for the first time on Cassian, knowing the general was open to anything when she had his muscles bending to her every will.

It was made with a certain herb she and Madja kept quiet from Rhysand due to its taboo nature. It had been shown time and time again by countless healers to aid in stopping inflammation, provide pain relief, and it's a wonderful moisturizer, but for some reason a certain High Lord, her father, refused to see use in allowing easy access and regulation to it despite seeing how it had saved Spring's economic state.

A knock pulled her from her thoughts of Beron's stupidity and went to the door, opening it for Cassian with a smile.

"Hello gorgeous," he smirked at her, "what do you have planned for me today?"

She lead Cassian down the hall. "I was thinking we'd do a deep tissue with hot stone mixed in since it's been awhile. I have you down for 2 hours and if we need longer, that's totally fine since you are my last one for today."

Cassian was thrilled with the idea. Silently thanking the Mother that Lyria always seemed to know what her clients needed. "Sounds good, princess. Azriel said you had a new oil you wanted to use today?"

Lyria nodded and bit her lip. "You can say no," he nodded and raised his brows. "It's made with mirthroot. You won't get high from it, but it has so many benefits to the muscle system regarding swelling, inflammation-"

"Princess, I've been using mirthroot off and on since before you were born. I am perfectly fine with you testing it on me. So would Rhys and Azriel."

He smiled as she squealed and bounced in place. "I'll let you get comfy then! You can pick which side we start on or if you just want to do your back today!" He watched her practically skip from the room with a small smile and shook his head.

He laid on his stomach, covering himself as he got comfortable. He had hoped she'd be willing to focus on his back, but knew from Azriel her hands had been killing her the past 2 or 3 days. Rhys wanted to take Lyria on a little vacation, all three couples, as did Azriel. Rhys was hoping on that vacation he'd be able to convince her to cut herself back to 5 to 8 clients a day with a few days off throughout the week instead of just evenings off. They, as selfishly and selflessly as possible, did not want her to have to stop her little business.

Rhys has spent years trying to find a massage therapist as skilled as she is. He'd have to spent a millenia trying to replace her.

She re-entered the room, dimming the fae lights. "Just your back today then?"

"Yes please."

Lyria knew Cassian was asleep 30 minutes into the massage, he always was. He has told her once it was that special time during the week where he could just focus on himself, on his body, his spirit. It was his self care time, and that had always been a high compliment for her. She worked his shoulders, feeling knots she had previously gotten out trying to form again and sighed as she realized she needed a better angle to get them out.

The professional line between her and all of the Inner Circle had blurred when Azriel and her were officially known as a couple. She was given liberties and consent with their bodies and with them topics of discussion with her. She climbed on Cassian's back, not fully setting her weight into him, to dig as gently as she could into the spot between his wings that was getting tense again.

All three of the males had this problem. It was just worse for Cassian for some reason. It was an area the two of them focused on intensely in their sessions, sometimes to where Cassian told the female she was a tiny torturess and terrorist. "Cassian," she stroked his back lightly to wake him.

"Oh top of me already, princess? Could have at least let me roll over." His deep voice was laced with sleep causing it to be slightly gritty. "It's back, isn't it?"

"Mmmhmm," she confirmed while rubbing his back. "If I get it now, it won't be as bad as if we wait again."

He groaned, wings falling in a little temper tantrum, "Fine. Just, get it over with. My safeword is pineapple."

She laughed as she got started. "Does Nesta make you use your safeword a lot?"

Cassian chuckled below her. "No. Your mate used to though when he, Rhys, and I all used to fuck around." They both tensed at the quiet confession. "I didn't tell you that."

"Oh yes you did." Lyria dug into the knot, rolling her elbow in it. "Tell me Cassian."

He let out a slightly pained moan, "We used to bring a single female back to Rhysand's mom's cabin and take turns with her or fuck her two at a time with the third brother shoved down her throat. If it was just one at a time, while one of us was enjoying the fairer sex, the other two would be enjoying each other."

"Oh?" Lyria was blushing. "And they enjoyed this?"

Cassian would have looked back at her offended if her elbow wasn't currently dug into the sole source of his discomfort the past few weeks. "Lyria, I have never failed to make a female cum at least twice in all my sexual interactions. Of course they enjoyed it." She released the hold in Cassian, rubbing the area gently again to feel where the knot had broken into small pieces. "Azriel used to be rougher than I think he is with you. Especially with Rhys and I because he knew we could take it."

"I've told him to stop holding back," she confessed. "I figured he wanted more."

She mentally cursed herself as her hand made contact with the leathery membrane of Cassian's wing as she reached for the oil. "Lyria," Cassian growled in warning.

"I'm sorry I-" She couldn't respond quickly enough, Cassian had somehow found a way to turn with her on top of him, setting her down directly on his hips and holding her there with his hands. "It was an accident, I swear."

Cassian's eyes were animalistic as he studied her. "I need your answer now."

Her hands had fallen to his chest, her eyes had gone wide. "Lyria. I was told I do not get to come home until you say yes. Give me your answer now so I can argue with you and change your mind if I have to."

The word fell from her mouth with hesitation. "Yes." Cassian's head fell back as he groaned, gripping her hips tighter. "What are the rules?"

"Only that we have to keep the bonds open." Cassian was eager to start playing with Lyria immediately. He began to grind her core against his hard length with a groan. "Azriel already told me if you agreed I could have fun with you today. Nesta just wanted me to tug the bond twice if you agreed so she could come watch."

"I don't know if I want to do anything today. This is supposed to be me massaging you and taking care of your body." Cassian smirked. Her words said no, but the faint wetness he could feel from her said yes.

"Are you sure? I can roll back over, princess. We can plan an official start date and sit down. Or I can give you a fun quick ride. Your choice."

"I'd like talking to Nesta first more." She hadn't even gotten to see Nesta yet to speak to her friend about this agreement. She understood why. The dynamic between her and Azriel was clear as day. That daddy babygirl dynamic showed them the control he had over her sexually. "I want to talk to Nesta first."

Cassian smiled and nodding. His respect for the youngest Vanserra grew, as did his adoration of her, at the respect she was giving his mate. His Ness. "Then let's get this wrapped up so I can fly you to the house, princess."

The flight to the House of Wind of the fastest she had ever taken. Cassian strolled in the doors, still carrying her. "Ness, I'm home momma!" He walked through the entryway, smiling as he got to the living room. "And I brought a snack."

Lyria waved at her friend, laughing as Nesta began to snicker. "The snack's mate is upstairs in his room. You should leave her here with me and go get him." Cassian set her on the sofa opposite to Ness before bounding up the stairs.

For the 3rd time in under 24 hours, Lyria was under the gaze of a predator waiting to make her it's next meal. Ness moved to the sofa with her. Almost cornering her between the arm of the furniture and her own body. "Don't you just look," Nesta paused, looking her over, breathing in the faded scent of her arousal. "Tasty today?"

She tucked a long red strand of hair behind Lyria's pointed ear. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too," Lyria admitted. "I wanted to talk." She became distracted quickly as Nesta trailed a long finger down the column of her neck. She raised a perfect arched brow waiting for her to continue. "About the arrangement."

Nesta's eyes sparkled with something Lyria instantly realized was arousal. "What's there to discuss? You are free use for Cassian, Azriel, and I. The bonds stay open at all times."

"What about boundaries?"

"Do you have boundaries, pretty girl?" Nesta began to kiss her throat. "Anything you don't want us to do, you just say the word and we stop." Cassian and Azriel had come back downstairs. Sitting across from them and watching as Nesta kissed up and down her neck, nipping along the way. "What's her safe word, Azriel?"

Her mate was smirking, shirtless in his sweatpants as he leaned back. "It's a color system. Green is good, yellow is slow down, orange for when she needs praise to continue, red for stop completely."

Lyria knew she was drenched at this point. Falling into that safe place and haze she always did with Azriel. "Fuck," her mate groaned as sensed it down the bond. "Free use, Nesta." He reminded the oldest sister.

Her hands were squeezing Lyria's breasts, playing with her peaked nipples through the fabric. "Cassian, undress my toy for me."

"Yes, mistress." Cassian pulled Lyria up, forcing her back against his chest. He had started to lift her shirt until Nesta tutted.

"Rip them off of her. She made us wait. She doesn't get fully gentle." Lyria whimpered as Cassian grabbed the tanktop she was wearing and tore it, then her bra, pulling the fabric from her body. "Just the seam of her leggings, they're wet enough." Nesta commanded as she removed her dress. Cassian's hand trailed from her collarbones down, stopping to pinch both of her nipples and making moan. Nesta was bare on the couch, legs spread wide as she began playing with herself.

Lyria gasped as Cassian reached her soaked core through her leggings. Both hands tore the ruined fabric with easy. "Play with her but don't let her cum. I want her punished for making us wait."

"Of course, mistress." Cassian forced her into his lap on the chair, forcing her legs to be spread wide for Nesta to watch.

"What a pretty pussy, Azriel. No wonder you've kept her to yourself." Lyria watched as her mate moved behind her and Cassian.

"You were given an order, general. Do not disobey your mistress. We do not want to have to punish both of you." Cassian's calloused fingers immediately found Lyria's folds, gathering her wetness before circling her clit and making her moan out. "Good boy," Azriel praised. His hand found Lyria's chin, ripping her gaze away from him and forcing her to watch Nesta. "She's been dripping like that for you for several days, Lyria." His mate whimpered. Drool forming as she saw Ness gather her own juices and squeeze her breasts with the other hand. "I expect you to lick her clean when she's done with you, babygirl. Do you understand?" Cassian chose that moment to push a single thick finger into her, making her cry out and wiggle against him.

Azriel watched, a smirk building on his face as he realized slowly they may get to truly punish Lyria. "One," Azriel began to count. Cassian curled a finger into her gspot, and Nesta picked up speed with her own teasing touches. "Two," Lyria's brain was screaming for her to say "yes daddy," but she was too lost in the feeling of Cassian pushing in a second finger, stretching her cunt. "Three," Nesta's smirk had grown feral, her moans picking up as she grew excited about them getting taken to Azriel's dungeon. "Last warning, babygirl. Four," Cassian curled his fingers again, stopping any thoughts she had other than moan and panting. "You asked of this, baby. Remember that."

Azriel walked to Nesta, darkness surrounding them first as Cassian chuckled behind her, his fingers still playing in her sloppy cunt. "I can't wait to see you, dripping, chained, and bruised by my mate." He whispered as he kissed her neck. "Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum on my hand, princess." His palm pressed down on her bundle of nerves and she screamed Cassian's name. He groaned at how tight she became, at how her sweet cunt milked his fingers as her release coated his hand.

He took his fingers from her drenched core, raising them to her mouth. "And you've broken two rules." A deep timber came from behind them and Lyria stiffened her eyes going wide as Cassian pushed his fingers into her mouth and gagged her. "I hope you mentally prepared for this, angel." And darkness surrounded them.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #nesta x cassian #cassian x Azriel #nesta x azriel #nessian x reader #nessian x oc x azriel #nesta x cassian x reader x azriel

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

Text

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away.

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together.

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family.

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.”

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.”

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of.

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night.

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by.

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?”

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.”

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?”

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.”

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special.

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle.

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.”

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.”

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly.

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding.

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.”

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck.

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier.

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other.

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store.

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.”

“Sick!”

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?”

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight.

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look.

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment.

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go.

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s got a stick up her butt.”

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now.

“Lucas! Language!”

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night.

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.”

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent.

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…”

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike.

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy.

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.”

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him.

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood.

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins.

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys.

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will.

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him.

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street.

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy.

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour.

–

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school.

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat.

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift?

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later.

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class.

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English.

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right.

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence.

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening.

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-”

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you.

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault.

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice.

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark.

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else.

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit.

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other.

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart.

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up.

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail.

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?”

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.”

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt.

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you.

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind.

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him.

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you.

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.”

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan.

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today.

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.”

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins.

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can.

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears.

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters.

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed.

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder.

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t.

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,”

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.”

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave.

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it.

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality.

“Holy shit, did I hit you?”

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes.

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.”

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?”

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.”

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.”

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!”

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance.

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual.

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise.

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones.

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.”

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.”

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.”

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys.

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.”

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels.

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face.

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone.

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now.

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside.

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed.

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans.

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path.

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.”

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone.

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.”

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.”

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says.

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off.

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.”

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit.

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…”

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in.

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.”

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit.

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them.

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him.

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.”

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving.

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe.

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys.

“Byers!”

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception.

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize.

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends.

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for.

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second.

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well.

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it.

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well.

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.”

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes.

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks.

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case.

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and you know that nothing will be the same again.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #honestly i just want to be jonathans bff #like its criminal that he doesnt have any real friends in the show until SEASON 4 #absolutely wild

654 notes · View notes

pedge-page · 8 months ago

Note

omg imagine PK x Plushies i love you so much girl you are amazing

Plushies x Piss Kink Crossover - Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: The crossover that was bound to happen and its HEREREEEEEEEE. This is more Plushies!verse setting and they discover a lil piss kink.

Warnings: PissKink, Plushies humping, yes we are peeing on the plush, premature ejaculation, assisted male masturbation, crying, jealous!Joel, and a HINT (just a bit) of sub!Joel at the end

18+ ONLY

- - - -

“What’s this one? Benny the Buffalo?” Joel asks, staring down at the brown fuzzy stuffed animal in his hands.

“No, dummy, that’s Biscuit, the Bison,” you retort, not even looking at him as you continue reading.

The two of you are lying down on your new “shared” bed, and Joel has decided its time he get to know his roommates on first name basis.

“Course. And this?” He snatches the white rabbit next. “BunBun?”

“Carrot.”

“Appropriate. How about Ghosty over here?”

“Casper.”

“How original. Aaaannnddd....?” He shoves the next one in your face to get your attention: a fat baby chick with an enormous orange bill.

“Mr Quakers,” you answer matter-of-factly.

“I bet he’s loads of fun on that little nub of yours,” he snickers. He tosses the poor chick like a free-throw basketball across the room.

He grabs the next one, buried waaaay in the back of your bed under all the rest. “Alright, Let me guess… Hammy the Hamster.”

“No that’s—“ you take one look at the one currently in his palms: a medium sized hamster with bitty hands and a large head as big as his squat body. Quickly hiding your shocked expressions, you go back to your book and say very casually, “Um…that’s… Frank.”

“Frank?”

“Mhm.”

“Just Frank.”

“Yup.”

“Frank the Hamster. How does that make sense?”

“Well I didn’t name him.”

“And who did?"

You swallow, wondering why Joel’s got so many goddamn questions about the naming conventions of your stuffed animals. “Um … Frank did…”

“Stuck up fella, naming the thing after him. Who was this “Frank” then. Your uncle? Was he as perverted as me?”

“No. Frank’s… my ex.”

Your face feels hot, avoiding his gaze and trying to look anywhere but at him.

Joel stares at you with an unreadable expression, then back to the fisted squishy hamster plush. He contemplates for what feels like an eternity. There’s an uneasy silence hanging in the air, and your heart is beating out of your chest, wondering what he may be thinking about those word resonating in his ears.

He clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth into diamonds while looking at something so extremely soft and huggable. You hope maybe he’ll just dropkick it out the window at worst, but instead:

“Hands and knees on the floor. We’re fucking Frankie the Hamster tonight.”

There was no “we”. What he really meant was YOU are fucking Frank the Hamster tonight, and he is pinning you down and forcing you to grind on it harder.

“Joel—that—feels… uncomfortable.”

He’s not rubbing his cock along your ass, or nudging your clit or kissing you. Instead, he’s caged you between the thick mass of his sold body and the hamster on the floor, your legs spread out with his knees along the inside of your calves to keep them open.

He keeps rubbing along your pelvis, palm digging into the squishy part right below your belly, pressing hard against your bladder.

“Joel,” you warn again. Your legs quiver with the rapid build, too afraid to push him off entirely. He’s steaming, that’s for sure, but why torture you above the little helpless guy?

“S’matter? You don’t like rubbing your slutty pussy over your ex’s face?”

“It’s just a stuffed animal—ow!” You cry as Joel pinches your nipple through your shirt.

“You grind on Frankie’s face before?”

“N-no. Never,” you swear.

“Mmm. Not sure I believe you, sweet pea. Kept him all these years, didn’t ya?”

You shake your head, too afraid to face him. You really hadn’t been grinding on the hamster ever. In fact, you nearly forgetting of his existence until Joel fished him up while asking everyone’s name.

He forces your back to arch even more drastically, putting more pressure between your naked cunt and the soft squish bellow you. You furrow your brows, fear creeping between your spread legs, unable to clench against something to brush off the mounting pressure in you.

“Joel please—I really need to go...” you didn't want to finish the sentences. He wasn't pleasuring with his hands you in the right places so much as building pressure in the wrong one.

“Go where? I’m all you need. Right. Here.” His fingers dig possessively into your side while his other hand pushes into your lower belly.

You shake your head again. Heart racing now that you no longer care about your pleasure and are more concerned with the mess of forbidden bodily fluids you’re about to rain all over your poor Frankie—

It hits you with burning desire mixed with an irksome bile. You gasp out angrily.

This. Mother. Fucking. Asshole.

Joel smirks into your neck behind you, as if reading your mind figuring out his evil little plan.

“S’wrong, angel? Would you rather be doing this with any of MY plushies I’ve spoiled you with?”

“I—you—“ you grit your teeth, eyes closing as a wave of panic washes deep through your core. You’re desperate not to make a mess, a fool of yourself to tame his sadistic need to own every inch of control over you.

He hears the little staggered pants from your lips. “Do it,” he commands softly but with finality, laced with a sadistic “win” for him.

A tear slips down your cheek as you moan sadly, your stomach giving up and unclenching as the walls of your bladder breaks, and hot urine spills into the stuffed animal’s face currently wedged so tightly against your entrance.

“Shhhhhh,” he coos, finally grinding himself against your ass. He can hear the feint rushing liquid of your piss splatting into the cotton.

He presses you further into its plush softness, suffocating every inch of your crotch so that it absorbs all the nasty warm juice squeezing out of you like a lemon. Your legs quiver violently as you can’t help but release more and more, flowing out as if by his demand and feeling the poor plush get heavy with the rush filling its cotton innards up.

"Naughty girl, am I making you piss all over your ex's face? Little Frankie doesn't deserve that does he?" He taunts, fully well intending for this to exactly happen as he wanred.

There’s so much, and another tear slips passed you, but this one because it feels so—relieving. It’s gross and nasty, embarrassing and heartbreaking all at once, and it makes you hump against him and the dampened hamster even more.

Joel feel the quickened breaths coming out desperately from your nose as you grind down on the defiled thing all soaked up with your own piss. Your hips are frantic, smothering your cunt with the piss-logged plush desperately, as if you were trying to...

“Shit—are you…?”

You cry out in response, mouth agape with satisfied groans when you clit catches along the wet seams just right and you find yourself cumming on the sad wet thing drowned below you.

Joel clears his throat in surprise. His cock pulses on its own and floods the inside of his pants in white strings of his seed.

Did he think you would probably cry? Yes.

Did he want you to pee and destroy your ex’s little gift to you? Yes.

Did he expect you to fucking cum from it? Um.

Did he know HE would cum from it??? No. Definitely not.

His teeth grind against one another trying not to think about how perverted he is, pulling away from you so you can’t feel his sticky spent through his trousers and on to your back.

The squishy lump below you begins seeping the now cooled piss into the floor boards. You sigh deeply, not sure what to do now that your little punishment has turned into—something wilder.

You feel a gentle kiss along your cheek, his thumb caressing away your tears.

“That was hot,” He admits plainly.

You cover your face to hide your smile. It’s gross. It really is. Should be embarrassing. You don’t even want to think about the hamster on the floor, the memories you’ve just soddened with your own fucking piss.

He helps you off the floor. Your thighs still shake, the uncomfortable feeling hanging there in disgust now that you’re mentally sober again.

He guides you to the shower where you both wash up quietly.

“Um—listen I didn’t… I don’t know why you would keep your ex’s stuff but…I mean I’m reasonably… it doesn’t make me feel great, so ya can’t blame me, for getting jealous—“

You shut him up but tugging against his half hard cock.

“First of all,” you say, the sudden boldness in your voice blanking his mind into submission under your touch.

“That plush, was from my first boyfriend—in high school. We dated for 2 months,” you continued, your fingers gripping his base with a gentle squeeze, feeling him swell to full mass, “and then he realized he liked boys. That was it. We laughed about it and stayed good friends. He gave me the stuffed animal as a parting gift to college for helping him through it all.”

You stop rubbing his cock and Joel opens his eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“So…Frank’s just… a friend…”

You kiss his collarbone. “Just a friend,” you repeat.

The water coats his back soothingly. An ache that had formed in his muscles, the strain of aggression tickling his brain from the minute he heard you had a stuffed animal named after your ex, still in your bed after years, had suddenly vanished.

“Why—why would you say hes your ex and not just your old friend? Why'd ya let me make you do that to it?” He asks, concerned now that he’s ruined something sentimental to you over his quickness to jealousy.

“Because—“ you nip along the swell of his chest, both hands working along his hardened cock. “You wanted it.” Your thumb swipes along his tip, the precum feeling sticky despite the shower water drenching you.

He moans, head falling into your shoulder as he thrusts his length into your palm.

As your wrist continues to jerk him off, your lips ghost the shell of his ear with a deadly, lascivious whisper:

“And I’m too crazy for you to say no.”

- - - -

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oliversrarebooks · 5 months ago

Text

The Rare Bookseller 90s AU: Lily's Rental

This came to me in a dream. I don't know how much of it I'm going to write, but I love the late 90s as a setting and couldn't resist.

Masterlist

tw: hypnosis, kidnapping

September 12, 1998

Lisa shook her can of Mountain Dew, dismayed that there didn't seem to be any more in it. She'd had three sodas tonight and was still struggling to stay awake.

She was working the late shift at the video store again, and she was really more bored than she was tired, the endless preview reel playing on the TV above her head doing little to hold her attention. She'd grown tired of the book she brought with her, she'd already restocked the candy and cleaned out the returns, and as she lived in a city that very much slept, there weren't a lot of customers so late on a weeknight.

Maybe no one would notice if she rested her head on the counter for just a few minutes and…

The sound of the door sliding open had her jerking back awake. "Welcome to Blockbuster, can I help you find anything?" she said on instinct.

"Well, you're a helpful one!" said the customer in an annoyingly cloying voice. "But we're just looking to browse the movies. Don't mind us."

She was wearing a floral sundress and tights, and looked a little too put-together for someone looking to rent a video at 11:40pm on a Tuesday. Trailing behind her was a man with a purple flannel shirt, a long blonde ponytail, and sunglasses perched on his head for some reason.

Far from the strangest people she saw in this job, of course.

"I'm feeling something with a lot of action," said the man as he walked deeper into the store. "What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking of -- ooh, no one told me Titanic was out on video!" The woman had stopped in front of the cardboard Titanic standee, apparently having lived under a rock until today.

"Did you somehow miss the nonstop ads on TV?" said the man, echoing Lisa's thoughts.

"I don't have time to watch that much TV. Some of us work for a living, you know," she said. "We have to rent this."

"Isn't it supposed to be four hours long? You know my attention span sucks."

"It'll be fine. I'll let you know when the interesting parts are happening."

Normally Lisa would mind her own business and not be especially interested in the usual chitchat of customers picking out movies, but right now it was the only thing keeping her alert. She idly flipped through a catalog as they talked.

The man picked up one of the many rental copies of Titanic and flipped it in his hands, a dubious look on his face. "I guess. And Lex might like it, he loves tragedy. It's cute when he's trying not to cry."

"I don't know, does Lex watch movies with color? You might blow his mind."

"I'm pretty sure he's still getting used to talkies."

"Anyway, I'm definitely getting this," said the woman. "And I think there's something else I'd like to take with me…"

Her tone of voice was a little strange. Lisa's brows furrowed in confusion as she pretended to be interested in winter fashion.

"Oh, right," the man said. "Brian wanted some video game. Ah, shit, what was it? I should've written it down. Final something."

"That's not what I'm talking about. Come on, Fitz, I want to show you something."

The two disappeared behind the rack of horror movies, their voices too low for Lisa to hear what they were saying. She was starting to get uneasy now. They were probably planning to shoplift, which was not at all the kind of excitement she was hoping for. Lisa ran her hand over the panic button on the underside of the counter, just in case.

The two split up and seemed to be browsing the movies. Lisa was keeping her eye on the man -- Fitz, what a goofy name -- who was over by the video game rentals, watching if he tried to slip one under his shirt. At the moment, he was staring at the video games as though they were some puzzle he needed to solve. This guy really didn't seem clever enough to get past our security, so maybe he was a distraction while --

"Hello, I had a question!" said the woman cheerfully. She had walked up to the front desk without Lisa even noticing, because she was too focused on the other customer.

It was probably part of their scheme -- the woman would distract the clerk, while the man stole video games. Lisa made a point of keeping her eye on Fitz while talking to her. "Sure, what do you need?"

"I was wondering if you have any good movies to help me sleep at night. Something calm… relaxing…" She yawned, and Lisa had to fight not to yawn along with her. "I have a hard time sleeping, and I take medicine that makes me so drowsy, so I could really use videos that will help me sleep."

"Um…" Lisa blinked slowly, feeling like her head was stuffed full of cotton. "We have some, um… some nature videos. Over there in the nature video section. Those are relaxing." God, she was way too fucking tired for this. She couldn't even think straight.

"Nature videos do sound relaxing. So, so relaxing." The woman's voice was very soothing, and her eyes were soothing too. "I think I might be able to fall asleep to a video of rain or waterfalls. Do you have anything else that would help me sleep? I get so tired this late at night."

Lisa yawned wide, and as oxygen hit her brain, she realized that she was being super unprofessional (not that she would get in trouble or anything) and that she had completely lost track of Fitz. Instead, she was gazing into this stranger's eyes, like that was a normal thing to do. "Well… uh…" she said, trying to tear herself away. "I think we probably have… like, lullaby videos for babies? In the kid videos. And we probably have some meditation videos over in the self-help section."

"Lullabies sound perfect," said the woman, a comforting smile on her face that made Lisa feel warm inside. "Lullabies are perfect when it's time for you to go to sleep. Don't you think so, Fitz?"

"I think you're right, Lily."

Lisa's hand was grasped by hands that were cold but incredibly soft. She realized that Fitz had also come up to the front desk, and was holding her hand for some bizarre reason. Before her sluggish thoughts could catch up to her and she could try to pull away, he began to rub a slow circle into her palm, and Lisa…

…just couldn't…

"There we go, sweet girl. You're so tired, aren't you? Tired and sleepy," said the woman. Lily.

"Mmm, she looks so drowsy. Like she could nod off at any second," Fitz agreed, as he stroked the palm of her hand so gently, a motion that seemed to steal away her focus and muddle her thoughts.

"Drowsy and docile. You'll be drowsy and docile for me, won't you?"

Fitz used his other hand to run his fingers down her jaw and tip her chin into his gaze. "You heard her. Drowsy and docile. Isn't that right?"

Lisa felt herself nod slowly. "Drowsy… and docile…" she said, her voice sounding like it was coming from a million miles away.

This wasn't right. There were alarms going off in the back of her mind, warning her of the danger. They were going to rob her. She was going to be in so much trouble. Why was she acting like this? Why couldn't she wake herself up?

"Shhh, shhh, just relax, dear," said Lily. "Everything's just fine. You're tired, aren't you? You just want to sleep."

"Go to sleep." Fitz's fingers traced down her neck. "Just go to sleep."

"I… I don't…" Lisa's vision was blurring, the buzzing fluorescent lights slipping in and out of her mind as her eyes began to close.

"It's okay, dear. Just have a little nap. You're safe with us. You can sleep."

"You look so, so tired. You want to shut those eyelids, don't you?"

"You do. You want to shut those heavy eyelids and go to sleep. It's time to sleep, dear. Sleep…"

Lisa, making a last ditch effort to resist whatever was happening here, pulled open her leaden eyelids. The new releases shelf was at an angle -- no, her head was tipped over, almost sinking onto the counter. Why couldn't she snap out of it, stay awake? It all felt like a dream -- not even the strangest dream she'd had about the shop.

"Poor sleepy girl," Lily whispered in her ear. "You're going to fall asleep now, all right? No more resisting, no more fighting, just a comfortable deep sleep."

The drowsiness was pouring into her from her hand and face where Fitz was touching her, like she was being drugged. Her thoughts strayed briefly to the panic button under the counter before her eyes shut and she slumped over completely. She just couldn't seem to stop herself from falling asleep…

"I've got her." Hands wrapped around Lisa's waist, and Fitz's voice was much closer now. "I can see why you wanted to take her. She smells delicious."

"I know good merchandise when I see it," said Lily.

Delicious? Merchandise? Lisa tried to stir.

"Shh, don't worry about it," said Lily, brushing hair out of Lisa's face. "Sleep tight. Pleasant dreams."

Lisa could feel herself being lifted in the air and carried, but she was too much asleep to protest or do anything about it.

"So I'm guessing we're taking her to the auction house, then?" said Fitz. "D'you think the Blockbuster's going to charge us a late fee if we don't return her?"

"Very funny, and yes, let's take her to the auction house. We can run a background check to make sure we haven't picked up anything too dangerous. I'm thinking she's going to fetch a nice payday," said Lily. "Oh, is this the video game your thrall wanted?"

"Hell if I know, but it's probably close enough. Could you grab that for me? Thanks."

Cool night air hit Lisa's face, waking her up just slightly as she realized she must be outside. Someone needs to close up the shop, she thought in a bleary daze. She heard a car door open.

"Stay with her in the back and keep her asleep, okay?"

"You're better at keeping thralls asleep. Are you sure you don't want to do it?"

"No, because I'm also better at driving. It'll be easier to keep her calm if we don't have you slamming the brakes and pounding the horn --"

"Oh c'mon, I only do that to people who deserve it."

The next thing Lisa knew, she was laying down. Her legs were only halfway on the seat and her head was in someone's lap. A chilled hand stroked her forehead and combed through her hair, and Lisa couldn't help but sink into it, losing herself.

"…could just take her home, you know."

"…don't think she's…"

"…don't you think she'd be a good match for…"

"…but she'd be worth…"

The voices slowly faded away as Lisa slipped deeper into slumber.

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#whump #whump writing #vampire whump #vampire whumper #vampires #90s #mind control #hypnosis #rare bookseller #rare bookseller 90s #fitz #lily #lisa

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