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sophiethewitch1 · 7 months ago

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What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea.

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

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just like my crush - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3.8k warnings: swearing, reader is doped up from anesthesia summary: confessing that you have a crush on someone really isn't that hard. all it takes is anesthesia clouding your judgment. a/n: brought to you by my lovely nanami flowershop anon's beautiful brain !!!

___

Injuries in this line work wasn’t unusual. Someone was always occupying Shoko’s little infirmary and keeping her busy. Nasty gashes, sprained wrists, broken bones- it was practically a part of the job description. No, it wasn’t pretty, but at least with a master of the Reverse Cursed Technique on site, the mishaps that came with assignments never lasted too long.

Because of this expectation, Megumi had never been put in a position where he worried over someone’s well being after an exorcism gone awry. He’d had life threatening wounds get healed more times than he could count on both hands, hell, Yuji lost a hand and got that back!

So why did he feel sick to his stomach when she took a bad hit during an assignment? Why did his throat close up too tight for him to explain the situation to the manager on the assignment? Or to Ieiri when he got her back to campus? Why was there a cold sweat racing down his spine, but his insides felt like they were on fire?

Despite all of Ieiri’s insisting that (y/n) was fine, that she’d gotten here just in time, that she was healed and would wake up at any time- likely without the memory of what happened- and that she would still be fine then… Megumi didn’t tear himself out of that room in the infirmary even once.

When she does wake up- two days and a couple hours later- he doesn’t look too good. He’d pale and he’s been bouncing his leg for so long it’s gone numb, but the relief that washes over him brings some color back to his face.

Her eyelashes flicker about a few times before she finally opens her eyes, but his attention is drawn to the way her hand twitches above the stark white sheets.

“Hey,” He murmurs, as quiet as he can stand to speak. He didn’t want to startle her, and he thinks that if she were to flinch back at him, he’d flinch too. “(y/n), you awake?” He asks when she doesn’t say anything right away.

Then her eyes finally find him, and with a hazy gloss over her blown pupils, she smiles. It’s slow, and so, so impaired, but it’s pretty nonetheless.

“Oh, wow,”

Her voice is strained, likely from not having been used for a couple days, but the light and breezy way in which she speaks is enough for him to know that her anesthetics haven’t worn off. The stoner-like smile also tipped him off pretty well, but Megumi’s sure now.

“You know who you look like?”

It’s not the question Megumi’s expecting, and his confusion is obvious in the way a tiny knot forms between his brows. He would’ve thought ‘where am I?’ or ‘what happened?’ would be in order, but maybe the anesthesia was more on top of her than he would’ve thought, so he hums in response and waits for her explanation. Surely she’ll have something silly to say, it wouldn’t be the first time she called him a sea urchin for his messy hair.

“You look jus’ like my crush” (y/n) half-slurs back. She tilted her head in his direction, trying to get a better look at him from where she was laying, but the rest of her body felt too heavy to move.

Megumi’s eyes widen, and before he can stop himself a small laugh comes out. Confusion, humor, and disbelief blend into the overwhelming relief in knowing that Ieiri hadn’t been lying to him to protect his feelings. (y/n) would be completely fine.

Maybe a little bit high, but still, completely fine.

Her shoulders shake in the slightest when she laughs in response to his own little chuckle, delighted purely by his reaction.

“I’m serious,” She mumbles out, eyes falling heavy for a minute the longer she stares at him. “And it’s a compliment too, b’cause he’s, like, really cute” “I didn’t know you were crushing on anyone” Megumi hums, leaning his elbows against the edge of her cot so that he could prop his chin in his hands. Amusement flickers in his eyes when her expression noticeably shifts. Her eyes widen and her lips part but no words come out. Was he actually making her nervous? Who the hell did he look like in her eyes right now that had her reacting like this?

Megumi can’t recall a time she’d ever talked to him about crushing on anyone. Nothing of the sort, not even a hint. And he’d definitely never seen the ruthless sorcerer appear so…

Well, she looked like a girl with a crush. A blush was forming on her cheeks the longer he held eye contact with her, and the way the corners of her mouth twitched and betrayed her as she tried to bite back a smile.

“Y-yeah, duh,” She stammers back at him with a sassy roll of her eyes. Megumi’s quick to push his hand against his mouth to stifle his laughter. “The point of a crush is it’s secret”

“So you’re not gonna tell me then?” He asks curiously.

She probably didn’t know it, but (y/l/n) (y/n) was the only person in the world that got to see the playful side of him. It was hard not to act on his intrigue, though. It was too entertaining to see her in this state… and the rapid beating of his heart in his ribcage made him ache to know more.

But she shakes her head against her pillow, sealing her lips shut to further prove her point. She’s still smiling, though, and she hasn’t torn her eyes off of his since she woke up.

“How’re you feeling, anyways?” Megumi decides to steer the topic back to one of more importance. “Anything hurt? Can I get you anything-?”

“Even your eyes are pretty like his,” She interrupts him, and then sighs as though this was a large inconvenience for her. “You must be related,” She says matter-of-factly.

He hopes that when the drugs wear off she doesn’t remember this moment, because Megumi knows his face is as red as a tomato with how fiery his skin feels. A nervous laugh bubbles out of him before he could choke it down, and her whole face lights up in response.

“You must not get compliments often, huh?” She teases in a slow drawl.

“I… I guess not,” He says, followed by more nervous laughter that happens against his will. “But thank you, (y/n). That’s very… kind”

He’s painfully awkward, and he knows that as soon as he leaves this room he’s going to overthink this entire interaction, but for now he tries to bask in the warmth that sparks from knowing she thinks he has pretty eyes. Or at least, she does when she’s so doped up she can’t quite focus on a conversation.

But at least she's obviously not in any pain. Megumi’s worries begin to melt away, but that might just be the work of her flattery.

“You’re welcome,” She grins back at him, but she just as soon furrows her brows and regards him curiously. Even after staring at him so shamelessly, she suddenly doesn’t appear to recognize him one bit. “I thought Megumi only had a sister, though”

It comes out in a mumble, and he’s sure that she’s talking to herself in her deluded state, but the rush of heat that floods his chest and shoots up his neck is nearly too much to bear.

She actually didn’t recognize him this whole time? Was she talking about him this whole time? Was the flattery not a drug-induced misconception and actually-?

Before he can settle on a question to ask her to clear his confusion, she’s settling back into her pillow and her eyes are falling shut. Megumi opens his mouth, ready to force out the first thing that comes to mind, but she drifts off almost immediately. Her chest rising and falling in slow, steady movements.

It felt like a cruel prank.

Now he was left sitting and gaping at her unconscious form. His heart is racing and his leg is bouncing again, and Megumi thinks he might be even more anxious for her to wake up this time.

He decides then and there that when she does, and when she’s of sound mind again, he’ll ask her about it. Because if she really did have a crush on him he’d have to finally get over his ridiculous anxiety and make a move. ___

A week after making a full recovery, (y/n) comes to the decision that if she wants Megumi to talk to her, she’ll just have to corner him.

She’s not sure why he hasn’t been talking to her- hence her cornering plan- but ever since her last assignment had gone awry and she’d been put on a minor hold, he’d been dodging her. And sure, Megumi wasn’t always the most sociable guy, but he was a friend and even if he didn’t feel like hanging out, he wouldn’t completely ghost her like this.

Of course she’d tried asking Yuji and Nobara about it, but they were a dead end. They’d been just as surprised as she was that he’d been avoiding her.

I thought you were best friends, Yuji had frowned at the idea of a falling out between his two friends that he cared about so much.

Maybe he realized you have a crush on him and pussied out, Nobara had cackled at the scenario, not feeling an ounce of worry that this weird bump wouldn’t get resolved.

Needless to say, (y/n) was quick to steer her investigation far away from them, before the blabbermouths could do what they do best and blab around the wrong people.

She corners him while doing laundry, of all things.

“Hey,”

And when she walks into the room while he’s tossing his freshly washed laundry into the dryer, Megumi hits his head on the lid when he swivels around in shock to see her there.

“Oh god, are you alright?”

“I’m fine- it’s fine,” He answers all too quickly, before she’s even finished her question. “I’m almost done with the washing machine”

(y/n) can’t help but chuckle a little bit, seeing as she wasn’t currently holding a basket of laundry, but Megumi’s already back to filling up the dryer. It appears every piece of clothing he tosses in is monochrome- mostly black, but a few gray pieces here and there. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it is a bit funny.

“I actually was looking for you,” She tells him, leaning against the doorframe. It’s half casual, and half to block his only escape. Megumi responds with a small hum, still putting all of his focus on moving the laundry. “Are you upset with me?”

The question has him swiveling again, finally giving her his undivided attention. It’s a bit unnerving, the way he straightens up and goes rigid as he stares back at her in bewilderment. She wants to be annoyed that he has the audacity to look confused when he was the one that had been avoiding her for days, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt

“Upset? No. No of course not” He answers, and his words are so certain, that she believes him straight away. But the small bit of truth doesn’t provide much relief.

“Then how come you’ve been dodging me?” She asks, unable to help her frown. What other reason could there be? If he’s not mad at something, why would act so flaky?

“I haven’t been dodging you”

“That’s a lie”

“It’s not?”

“It is,” She crosses her arms defensively. “You haven’t been answering your phone and you always have some excuse to not talk to me. Did I do something?”

“Not really”

He winces as soon as the answer leaves his mouth. It wasn’t like him to get so careless- but it also wasn’t like him to avoid her. Really, he was falling apart at the seams and trying quite desperately to appear as though everything was normal.

It wasn’t working. (y/n) could see the panic in his eyes as clear as day. Not to mention the way his lips twitched like he was holding back further explanation. She narrows her eyes as she studies him carefully.

“Not really?” She repeats his lame answer. “So sort of? So I did do something?”

Megumi’s certain that she chose to stand in the doorway so he couldn’t make an easy escape. Would it be immature to summon the rabbits?

“(y/n) it’s- it’s fine. It’s me, alright?” He’s not very convincing.

“So you did something?” Another question he doesn’t want to answer.

“No- just- not really- it was just-” He stammers, and then groans, tilting his head back and glaring at the fluorescent light hanging over him.

He recalls the way he’d sworn to himself that he’d talk to her about her little anesthesia-induced confession, and kicks himself now for cowering out of it. Megumi never really ran away from a challenge, even when he knew he was in over his head. But something about standing before her now and explaining how she’d inadvertently confessed to having a crush on him makes his heart beat out of sync and his throat go dry.

“Look I just don’t want things to be weird between us,” (y/n) sighs, giving up on interrogating him so heavily. “So just… whatever it is, can we talk about it?”

And he swoons, actually swoons. His knees physically feel weak and he has to resist the urge to let all of his muscles relax and sink towards the ground. It was so sweet, so considerate of her to want to mend the nonexistent conflict between them. Megumi didn’t think it was possible to like her more than he already did, but she had a knack for proving him wrong.

So with an anxious breath, he thinks screw it and just lets it out.

“Do you remember waking up and talking to me in the infirmary?”

Her brows furrow, giving him her answer, and then her features soften with realization.

“You visited me in the infirmary?” She asks, almost in a whisper. No, she didn’t remember, and no one had told her she’d had any visitors during her short stay there.

Megumi nods his head.

“Yeah, I… I stayed till you woke up. And you did, for a couple minutes anyways, but you were pretty out of it. Anesthesia and all” He explains.

She tries to rack her memory for any hazy glimpse of talking to Megumi in Shoko’s clinic, but nothing comes to mind. She feels a little guilty now, having forgotten so easily.

“Okay…” She trails off, waiting for the rest of his explanation. “So… something happened then?”

Megumi hesitates, his expression twisted in mild displeasure, like he just stubbed his toe or has to deliver an oral presentation. (y/n) tries to be patient, she really does, but the longer he draws this out the larger the pit in her stomach grows.

“Yeah,” The word comes out through a heavy breath, and he pauses for just a moment longer before admitting the last detail. “You… you sort of confessed that you have a crush on me”

“Oh,”

Relief settles into her bones, and then a spike of panic.

“Oh”

Her eyes are widening and her arms wrap tighter around herself, fingers digging into the sides of her ribs as if she could possibly ground herself with her anxiety reaching an all time high.

For fuck’s sake, she wasn’t this anxious when that Grade One tried to take a massive bite out of her body.

“You were really out of it, though,” Megumi says quickly. “You were just… high. You probably just couldn’t see or think straight-”

“No, I wasn’t just high,” She cuts him off with surprising calmness in her voice, and a short shake of her head. “I do. Have a crush on you, I mean. I didn’t… obviously I didn’t intend to tell you that, but, I guess high-me can’t keep a secret, so…”

She trails off with a bashful giggle that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t already filled to the brim with embarrassment. Megumi’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. The corner of his mouth twitches a few times too, and still, he’s standing in bewildered silence before her.

It’s not that he didn’t believe her, he was eighty-five percent sure that she’d meant what she said while she was still under the influence of the anesthetics, but that fifteen percent of uncertainty was his paranoia getting the best of him. But now she was of sound mind, dead sober, and dead serious as she stared at him and awaited some sort of reaction.

No real reaction came, unless you counted the drumming of his fingers against his side, slow at first, but picking up speed the longer they both stood there and waited for the other to say something.

Megumi knows he should say something, and probably something along the lines of; well that’s a relief because I’m actually crushing on you so hard I don’t know what to do with myself… but unfortunately, he really didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Do I even want to know how badly I embarrassed myself?” (y/n) breaks the silence with a nervous but curious smile.

“You said I looked just like your crush,” He explained, heat flooding to his face as he recalled the other things she said. “It was actually the first thing you said when you woke up,”

She has to laugh at that a little, to which Megumi feels some of the tension in his shoulders disappear. The tension in the room also starts to thin out, much to his relief.

“Then you went on about how cute your crush was. And when I tried to ask how you were feeling, after, you know, surgery and all that, you ignored me and said…” He rubs the back of his neck, growing shy as he realized he was rambling and the subject matter already had his heart racing.

“Oh god… what?” (y/n) gasps, eyes widening, hoping she didn’t let out some dirty thought that she worked very hard to keep in the back of her mind.

“You said I had pretty eyes, and then you sorta let it slip that I was your crush, so I guess you didn’t realize you were talking to me the whole time… and then you passed back out”

She’s laughing again, but this time she covers her face with her hands in a pitiful attempt to hide her blush until it goes away. A small groan dies at the back of her throat. The second hand embarrassment from her past-inebriated-self was just too much.

After all this time she's done so well at keeping her feelings under wraps, of never letting it be known with a slip of tongue or lingering touch, only to tell him so brazenly while in a hospital cot… it was ridiculous.

“God… I’m so sorry, that’s… wow, that’s probably the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done” She starts off looking at him, but ends up muttering to herself and looks away, still overwhelmed by the mortification of it all.

A small smile graces Megumi’s face, and in a moment of being true to his word, he musters up the courage to speak up before she could walk away and pretend this didn’t happen.

“It was more cute than humiliating,” He tells her, and she peeks back up at him in soft surprise. “Maybe just a little embarrassing, just a little… but… still cute” His voice gets softer the longer she looks at him and he starts to lose the confidence he started out so strong with, but he still holds her gaze, hoping that she’ll know he means it.

“Cute?” She repeats in quiet disbelief. Megumi nods back at her with absolute certainty and sincerity.

He gives into another bout of a confidence boost and takes a few steps forward, closing some of the space between them. (y/n) practically scrambles to straighten up away from the doorframe, her shoulders squaring and her eyes widening as she watches him move towards her.

“And for what it’s worth, I think you have pretty eyes, too,”

It’s quieter than he intends, but his words are effective in replacing the nervous tension in the room with something much more palpable. The electricity buzzing between them was so thick they were practically choking on it.

(y/n) smiles, slow at first, processing the sudden compliment, and then all once. Every inch of her skin warmed from the sweet words, and she’s not sure she’s ever felt flattery like this before. She’s never taken a compliment so to heart, never known that she was going to go to sleep that night playing it over and over in her head.

Megumi’s eyes flicker between hers for a moment, admiring the way she lights up with delight before him, and then he opens his mouth again.

“They look just like my crush’s”

Her brows furrow and despite that feeling of embarrassment spiking in her chest again, the corner of her lips curl into a smirk that gives into a smile almost immediately after. Megumi’s clearly amused by this reaction, laughing to himself like he was so proud of his own tease.

“That’s so corny” She mutters, before stepping away from the doorway and closing the last bit of distance between them.

Despite his nerves he anticipates her movements, large hands finding purchase on her hips and practically yanking her the rest of the way that it takes to have her body against his. There’s no extra time for words before their lips crash fast. The kiss is surprisingly tender for how rushed their movements were, but it had them both melting into the other right away.

Her hands are gentle as they smooth over his shoulders before wrapping lightly at the nape of his neck. Her fingers poke into the dark strands of hair that hang there, and when she curls a few locks between her index and middle finger, he presses his lips against hers with a little more fervor.

Even once they part from one another, neither one goes very far. Gasping for air with lips still brushing each other’s, noses bumping, and hands still holding on tight all in the name of not putting an inch of distance between them.

Still no words are exchanged as they share a look before both glancing at the open doorway behind them. It doesn’t take verbal communication for Megumi to reach behind her to grab the door by the handle and swing it shut. The only sound that fills the room is the white noise buzzing from the dryer cycle, and the soft giggle that’s immediately suppressed by warm, inviting lips pressing against hers again.

___

a/n: thank u again my amazing nanami flowershop anon for this really fun idea. also i just love playful megumi. he's so cute n shy <3

xoxo ~ jordie

#nanami flowershop anon #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro megumi fanfiction #megumi fushiguro fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #megumi brainrot #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi

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capslocked · 1 year ago

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 5

[prompt: face sitting]

male reader x ahn yujin

3.5k words

Yujin is giving you shit when it happens.

It’s been a little over an hour since she turned to you, bored and pouty about it, and asked if you wanted to fuck again.

She gives you shit in the way only the prettiest girls can get away with. Perfect smile, like she's innocent. And all low and breathy in her throat. Hitched around the vowels of your name. Threatening enough that you thought about just immediately capitulating. It was tempting.

"Or you could stay on the floor like a lame loser bummin’ around in your pajamas." She leans up on the arm of the sofa. "Either way."

Yujin stretches and her sweater is huge. One of those cozy campus crewnecks that everybody seems to have, oversized and inviting and right. Her shorts are ridiculously small, just enough of her stomach peeking out over her waistband for you to want to feel it, touch it, have the pleasure of sinking your tongue into the shallow groove.

She's teasing you because she never quite knows what to do with her energy. Lacks an outlet big enough, really, but is also selfishly delighted in getting any response at all, no matter how halfhearted it might be. You stare at her. You watch and don't speak when she runs her fingers up her stomach to pull her sweater up with it. You groan. She grins. She is pretty, her lips full and eyes soft. The laugh that follows her is because it's always obvious when she's won and you wish your body wasn't so prone to giving away your weaknesses.

"Hey." She blinks slowly, lifting one leg up. Her bare foot, warm, toes flexed, against your thigh, nudges against you once, and again.

"How many orgasms until I feel a little more forgiving towards my good friend who, I know, is super super sorry that he can't afford the pizza money because he chose to use his own allowance to do something as silly as pay rent, I wonder?"

"I paid half last time."

"Doesn't make sense because you ate it all.

"You said you weren't hungry." You start to object because you do have an objection. A list, actually, prepared, of instances you think you're owed. But Yujin arches, and when a separate but related complaint rises swiftly to the foreground, your throat goes dry -

"Orgasm tax."

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” she asks, and you’re struggling to answer truthfully, honestly.

She rolls over, lets you see everything she has, the tiniest shorts in the world tugged even higher, the generous curve of her ass and thighs in silhouette. You didn't ask for this but you weren’t about to die without it, you think, looking up from the floor and staring, wetting your lips, absolutely sure. She does it all on her own and it takes an absurd amount of effort to peel your hands off the ground.

"Stay where you are," she snaps, seeing it too - and in a second of deliberate slowness, hooks two fingers into her shorts, tugging them aside before looming over you. "Or you're not fucking me today. At all."

You let your head thud down against the rug beneath you. "That's not fair."

"You've gotta come up with something better than that. You could suck up, beg, maybe I'd forgive you if you just told me how much better I was than the cash I could use on literally whatever."

Your eyes cut down.

Part of you wonders if you've always been such an easy mark - whether being here has changed you, if all these months of dangling carrots in front of you are paying off or if you're just a willing accomplice to your own exploitation.

Part of you isn't stupid. Yujin's taken an almost disturbing amount of pleasure in flaunting herself since the first night you drank too much, said too much, resisted too little - you can tell the way it starts, a smile toying in the corner of her mouth, before she taps the band of her bra, waits to hear you swallow - to hear how hot you get - before she casually asks what it would take, "to convince you", to change the conversation from whether she wants something from the vending machine, or she just forgot it was laundry day, or where the hell that note from Wonyoung had gone, to what she'd like the answer to be. What would you let her do if it got you another chance to get under her shirt, see her all bared, eyes dark and hair like a veil across her collarbones, pretty nipples and swells of her breasts pushed up, until you put your mouth on her.

Yujin tilts her hips so it's easier for you to follow, her hand snaking beneath her body as she speaks. A gentle grunt gets muffled in her sweater, her toes curling into the space between your knees and it hurts, stings a little, the desire you're holding back, and then it goes right through you like fire, sharp.

(Part of you is incredibly stupid - but you think the truth is it doesn't matter.)

Yujin's kneeling over your chest, and her bottom lip, plump and lush, catches between her teeth. "Can you think of anyway to be useful?"

"A lot," you choke. It's true.

Yujin makes a noise. "Proof. Evidence. Put up."

The movement she makes - twisting of legs and stomach flexing and the fabric of her shorts down off her ankles - is one single, fluid motion and for a second you're distracted by how quickly she's gotten you there. Thighs resting over your shoulders, the only thing your lungs seem to remember how to do is want.

"Come on." She bounces her knees a bit. "Dick or mouth, get going."

You should really say something smart, show her how clever and charming you can be, how you've actually got a lot to show the hottest girl in the world - and sometimes Yujin giggles like she's shocked about it all herself, but right now her eyebrows are raising, expectant and challenging and it makes it difficult to think when there's an open invitation inches away for you to bury yourself in. Your lips feel like sandpaper when you kiss the inside of her thigh. Her hips stutter and drop an inch as your tongue works its way out, thick and obscene and it shouldn't be so thrilling to hear her so low, so urgent when you have no say, really, in how this is going to go -

"Take care of me, yeah?" she practically whispers the words - all while your fingertips drag along her outer thighs until her spine straightens, gets her shoulders pushed back, her breathing louder, somehow, as if you couldn't feel her need without knowing already exactly what you can do for her.

And the most honest thing you could say in the moment, because Yujin has her panties stretched to the side, revealing the inviting creases where her long legs meet her hips - for god’s sake, her pussy is right fucking there, inches in front of you; glistening slightly in her own slick and looking so, so pretty - the words get kissed right into the curve of her thigh: "It's not fair."

The look she gives you makes it worth it. "Excuse me?"

"You asked, didn't you. It's not fair that your pussy's so good that I can't think about anything else."

She huffs, her thighs shaking just a little with the effort of staying put. "So, what," and your mouth closes in, kiss deep, your nose pressed in right at the peak of her folds, her entrance, and you try not to drool as you inhale and drag the flat of your tongue in, hard, where she's desperate for you, "you think this should all go in reverse or something, like I should worship your dick until you stop being a useless perv - "

But the insult dies in her throat. A moan comes out instead, harsh, deep, loud and enough that Yujin slaps her palm over her own mouth before throwing an impatient scowl down at you.

Here's what you'd tell her, if you weren't busy licking circles into the ache leaking from her core, eating her cunt like a starving man, if you had the audacity. Yujin can't control herself. Doesn't help that she's sloppy. When her orgasm hits she will get louder and she doesn't even like the things that come out. That's the thing about Yujin, really. She says all this shit, and really, in the end, she wants a good fuck so bad she can't keep her mouth shut, but the noises she makes are exactly the same as the sounds that you choke on -

Because as pretty and easy and fun to kiss as she can be, the absolute best thing about your relationship is that the more orgasms she gets the less she can breathe, much less control what the fuck she's saying to you. It's cute and hilarious and beautiful, when she forgets, when she gives everything up because in the end it's never any competition, the way she fucks, is so desperate. Her hips work themselves into your grip, over and over and over again, like they are meant for this.

For getting off on your mouth alone.

All you know right now is that with the way you have your hands on her - one still holding her panties open and the other squeezed tight around the muscle of her outer thigh - it's like her clit's directly in line with the back of your throat. If you press your lips around her pussy and hold them firm, just like the way her knees are starting to tighten around your face, she's going to come. It will hurt her and it will leave her completely boneless, and you've fucked this much to the point where you have learned, well, she can never complain.

Not that she would. The slick dripping down your cheeks and throat and down to the front of your shirt - it's fucking everywhere - makes it obvious: any ability to talk is replaced with her just grinding her pussy against you, bucking and shouting, riding and writhing until you decide her pretty little pink slit can have another taste.

Her only other option, really, is clenching and throbbing and cumming as hard as she can all over your waiting tongue.

"Hey. Get your fucking mouth back down," she breathes, taking her fingers out of her cunt and then promptly pushing your head back in, "and - uhnn, I - yeah, exactly. Mmmnghh - "

You smile, muffled and hot against the fabric of her thighs, her fingers twisting in the hair behind your ears and tugging firmly. "Oh."

"What did you want again?" she asks - except her body tells a different story, all flushed and keening and, fuck, absolutely soaked from your touch - she rocks against the base of your chin, slumping and dropping down and letting gravity do its work. You work your tongue over her throbbing clit, again, again, and Yujin moans loudly. So pleased.

Just this mess she's made of you. The smell that coats your nose, and chin, the way it feels when she ruts her whole body against the place where she's worked the hardest. Her breath stalls where you start to breathe in, and looking up at the cinched look in her face you press further.

It’s every little circle lick and lave and gentle nudge of the tip of your nose, where the feeling makes her cry out, where the sensation, overstimulated, is close to that perfect balance between too much and not quite enough, all while working your fingers into the swell of her ass, and finally her hips make small, greedy, selfish thrusts into your mouth.

She sobs for you. You sigh, contented, because you don't even need to ask.

"You're so fucking good," she murmurs, heel of her palm pushed into her eyes like she's struggling with a headache. "God, fuck, do that again."

It's so wet on your chin already, but you do it again, just for the way she bucks into it.

You give her the closest thing you have, your thumb riding the rim of her ass, tongue rubbing, stroking her pussy faster. Yujin's teeth work against the insides of her mouth as her hips shift forward, and she is clenching and begging for the cock you know would make her scream if you just stood her on her hands and fucked her from behind - it's such a cruel way of making her work to feel so fucking amazing - but you're here to indulge, and really, when she shivers and pleads the exact way she does, your mouth still full, how are you supposed to do anything besides fucking obey.

Yujin reaches up to grab onto the edge of the couch, anything to brace herself as her cunt sloppily gets wetter. The thickest part of your tongue is good enough for this. Everything about her clit is just this dull, swollen throb. Begging to be worked over the way you're licking at the entrance to her pussy, inside and all, kissing, sucking, kneading, pulling, - fucking her just right - until she starts fucking cursing up a storm.

"Oh god, god, oh fuck fuck, fuck," her hips shift until she's the only one riding, the only one fucking. Until you just get to lay there with your lips slack, drooling open, hands a frame for her entire body while she works your face, and nothing could be better - "yeah, oh, fuck, fuck yes - yeah - fuck, hahhh. You're going to make me fucking cum-"

And you almost say it: that's your line - it's not enough, you'll never have enough of her cunt - her clit or the slit, where she leaks, thick and sticky. Her slick tastes heavy on your tongue, and you can't swallow fast enough. Your fingers are so deep into the pliable skin of her ass - digging and needy and reaching for where she's tightest. Her hands pull sharply at your hair. You feel her, tightening her ass around your finger, cumming wet across your cheekbones and -

It goes on, her body pressing into you, until with a sudden snap of a cry, she cums.

“God, fuck-”

If Yujin doesn't have to see the look on your face after getting her off this hard, it's only because the pressure in her body has her knees across your eyes forced shut. A spasm clenches, almost rhythmic, through her thighs, and god, Yujin just cums her brains out. It's pretty hot. You make it count: pushing your fingers just as deep into her pussy, working, exploring - right as her whole body is tensing and coming apart and your other hand circles, two fingers, dipping down and through the cleft of her ass and into her tightest, hottest hole -

You know better than to rub at her entrance once the ripples and waves start - instead, it's more pressure.

Pushing up as deep as you can and your lips mouthing at her folds while her hips squirm for something harder, something stronger and with intent - like, maybe, if she thinks she is trying to push away, she will start to believe that the mess running from her hole isn't hers. It's yours. All that liquid heat pooling below her and what could ever make sense other than she needs more? She needs the way she trembles and shakes, the way her pussy weeps as you wring it for the pleasure that's well on its way -

You always feel like an idiot after, stupid with how much you enjoy this, what she gives you, but how could it be anything but fantastic, your vision dizzying when it swims from lightheadedness and the lack of oxygen to your brain. Yujin's holding you right where she needs, right between her thighs and next to perfection, just tight enough for you to groan, to make a low whine build in the back of your throat and that gets her, too.

There is the rush and a wave, the heat, of something that crests and breaks in her that has to match the absolute loss of control she seems to have all along - the only part you feel you are sure about is that Yujin always rides her cunt - all dripping lips and aching holes, swollen and flaring and practically begging to be fucked harder and more thoroughly - into every orgasm she's taken from you, until there's no where to run.

Even through your nose, and you're suffocating, her legs trembling with the rush of it all. You're gasping and shaking but she's shaking apart and you need that: to feel her melt from where her body collapses all its weight onto you and the way the aftershocks have to make it seem, at least for a moment, that she’ll never, ever recover.

"Fuck," Yujin sighs, "I fucking hate you."

(Translation: she can't fucking live without you.)

"Any time," you murmur and her entire body falls into you, straddled across your chest and slumped there, sweaty and spent. Your heart beats the moment, trying to remember when it was you could stop feeling this way about your roommate.

A part of you believes that, once upon a time, before all of this started, that your desire, your lust was rooted in seeing a friend who was beyond hot and simply unavailable.

A bigger part of you knows that asking for clarity isn't the point - because maybe, right now, in the way your hand has started massaging the soft skin under the curve of her spine, you should realize you can't live with it never happening again.

"What's my balance," you ask, rubbing your thumb into the crook behind her knee.

"Mm?"

You exhale.

"Two. I think you're good for two."

You laugh. "For real?"

She stretches.

"Or I suppose we can go for four or five, but that means you're paying for dinner, too." Yujin does this thing with her hair when she's excited. Swings it back, smiling wide.

Which is fair, you think, given the pulse between your legs throbbing and twitching as you picture it: the curve of Yujin's waist and the drop of her lower back, her bare ass. Her soaked little slit that can't help but beg to fucked and fucked and fucked, until she's trembling and quivering and leaking-

"Then I'm gonna eat," you promise her, "every last inch. Going to taste you and swallow."

Yujin shifts, sitting astride you.

You hum. "Still interested."

She simply kisses you - breathes you in - tasting herself on your lips and tongue, before leaning back with her palms flat against your chest and taking it slow as she starts to ease you into the kind of sex that doesn't leave either one of you with a throat quite so raw and dry.

So it's quiet in your apartment, just for a little while, when the afternoon starts to settle in and she rolls back onto her heels, not able to support the rest of her. You fuck her deep and it's amazing how quickly you both fall into rhythm. Yujin's clutching hard on either side of your hips. Folding herself back. Trying, by the end, to bury you where her fingers have been.

By the time she gets herself up on the couch, belly flat against the cushions and her hips arched back as she fucks herself with the length of your dick, you're just desperate. Aching in a way you know will happen any moment and even so, you can't even bring yourself to consider stopping because this is perfect - it's everything, really. To push her down, hold her still, and fuck her so thoroughly that she cries and shudders as you spill into her.

To have her.

Yujin holds a part of yourself so tender, something you have kept close for far too long, and watching her with her arm reached behind herself, clutching blindly with her fingers, as her moans go quiet with just these whimpery, little things, a thought occurs to you, of exactly how dangerous your roommate is -

Because with you fucking into her like this, this is more than sex ought to be. More than it’s ever been.

(More dangerous yet is thinking: maybe - perhaps - it is exactly what Yujin wanted, from the start.)

#yujin smut #ive yujin smut #ive smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

Text

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 16

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings:

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Making Out, Discussion of Sex, some very "human" ideas of sexuality, a quote from Bridgerton and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

"Sweetheart, she'll love you," Azriel assured his mate. Again.

He wasn't sure what it was about but the idea of visiting his mother for dinner had thrown Eira into a tizzy.

He had reasoned that he would rather not get another lecture from his mother about not keeping her updated on his life choices…and well…he didn’t want to tell her about their engagement in a letter. So dinner it was. Esmeray had seemed delighted when he had suggested it in his last letter.

He wasn’t worried about his mother disliking Eira at all. She had already adored her the first time they had met, so really…there was nothing that Eira needed to be worried about.

“How can you be sure that she’ll like me?” Eira asked again, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “She’s your mother and you are still her baby…” He held back a snort. 540 years later and yes, he supposed he still was her baby, but his mother knew that he could take care of himself. “Maybe she'll hate me…”

"You already met her, and she loved you," Azriel said drily. “I am pretty sure, she’s already preferring you over me,” he said, only half joking. Eira stared at him wide-eyed.

“But what if she…” He was trying really hard not to laugh at the expression on her face. Eira looked almost desperate, almost bordering on panic, her grey eyes wide with worry.

"She’ll love you,” Azriel Assured her again, in a gentle voice. “I promise you, my mother will love you. She’s utterly delighted that I found my mate. You could be half kelpie and she would still love you.“

Eira let out a low exhale, and he could practically see the anxiety and nervousness in her eyes as if she were imagining the worst-case scenarios.

"But what if... what if she doesn’t?" she repeated.

He could hear the worry in her words, and he knew that underneath the surface, there was blubbering something else. Something far older and deeper.

None of the Archeron Sisters ever really talked about their mother, but Azriel had been able to…patch a picture together of a woman for whom her daughters had been nothing but…nothing but pawns to marry off to the highest bidder.

Eira had felt lacking for a maternal figure once. She didn’t want a repeat of that, couldn’t have a repeat of that.

All he wanted to do was comfort her, to hold her, whisper reassurances in her ears.

“She will,” Azriel said again, taking her hands in his. “And I promise, I won’t leave your side. At all. The whole night. It’ll be fine, sweetheart.” He gave her hands a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure her, to help her calm down, even though she was practically quaking in front of him.

She let out a soft exhale, her hands trembling in his, and he could hear her heart racing far faster than it should be.

"Eira...it’ll be fine,” he repeated. “It’ll be just fine.”

Eira let out another exhale, her breath shuddering as her anxiety got the better of her, and he knew that this would go on for hours if he didn’t do something about it if he didn’t get her to calm down. Azriel let out a low, soft sigh, looking at her, her breathing quick and shallow, her skin pale, anxiety clear in her eyes.

He was going to have to use a different tactic.

"Come here, Sweetheart,” he said, using the nickname deliberately. Sweetheart. It tended to make her fluster, and he could see its effect on her. Her pale skin flushed, her cheeks turned a beautiful pink, and her breath caught in her chest, making her breathing a bit less ragged and desperate. She stepped closer to him and he leaned down to press his lips to hers. She sighed into the kiss, a hand curling into the jacket he wore.

He deepened the kiss slightly, gently running the tip of his tongue against her lower lip, and he could feel her hand's fist against his jacket, a low hum of pleasure escaping her as he pulled her against him, letting her feel the heat of his body against hers, letting her feel the hard planes of his chest, hoping the sensation would soothe her.

He brought a hand up to the side of her face, his palm cradling her cheek, her skin smooth and warm beneath his touch, and she exhaled against him, the sound soft and quiet. He knew that his tactic had worked. Her breathing had slowed, her skin wasn’t as pale as it had been a moment prior, and the sound of her racing heart had finally quieted…

And her scent had gone heavy with arousal. He could smell it on her. He wished he could bath in her scent...in that thick and heavy sweetness.

Gods, she smelled divine, the scent of her desire making him practically lightheaded. Something hot and delicious coiled in him, a need to touch her, to taste her, and he had to forcibly restrain himself from giving in to the impulse…

He let his hand run down from her face, trailing his fingers along the line of her neck, his fingers brushing against her skin, and she shivered beneath his touch, a soft gasp escaping her. He smirked, his breath coming faster at her response, and he let his fingers trail lower, tracing the sensitive skin of her collarbone, feeling the gooseflesh as her skin reacted to his touch.

She leaned towards him, her body yearning, practically begging to be touched, but he couldn’t. Not right now, not when he could smell the arousal in her scent, not when he was so close to losing control, and he had to remind himself that they were still in the hallway of the River House, that she had been nervous just a few breaths ago, that they had somewhere they had to be tonight...

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, his voice a low growl as he spoke. “Another time,” he promised, and he would keep that promise. She let out a low whimper at his words, a shiver passing through her body at his tone, and he could practically feel the effect his simple word had on her.

"Another time?" she asked, her voice shaky.

“Another time,” he repeated, low and firm, and he had to force himself to pull away slightly, taking a step back from her, to give her some space, to give himself a moment to recover from her scent, her body, her response.

"We have a dinner to attend, sweetheart," he told her quietly. "Are you dressed warm enough? Illyria is rather cold this time of the year."

She nodded, her face still flushed, her skin still warm, and he could still smell the desire in her scent.

"Yes, I got a cloak as well," Eira said quickly, and just seconds later the shadows wrapped her in a dark cloak, only to then wrap the fur shrug around her as well.

His breath caught in his chest at the sight of her wrapped up in that pelt, a soft, possessive satisfaction coursing through him at the sight of the fur shrug wrapped around him, a clear announcement to the world that she was his.

He offered her his arms and wrapped her in shadows. It was easy enough to winnow them both to Rosehall, to throw them through the wards he had placed on his mother's cottage centuries ago.

They rematerialized just in front of the cottage, and Azriel had a moment to take in the building in front of him. The cottage was the same, warm firelight in the windows, the front porch with just as many plants as his mother had always had. It was so, familiar, so unchanged that it felt like no time had passed since he’d last seen the cottage.

The door opened but instead of his mother standing in the doorway, it was Garvan. One of his mother’s oldest friends. Also, one of the first inhabitants of Rosehall as it was now, a haven for displaced Illyrians.

“Ah, Azriel!” Garvan greeted him brightly, his mouth pulling into a smile, crooking the scars that covered one half of his face completely. There was only one sole wing that limply laid at his side and he used a cane to get around, but all of that had never stopped him from being an optimist. “Your mother has been waiting for you.”

Azriel smiled in greeting, something warm and light and fond at the sight of Garvan, a familiar sense of affection welling up in him at the sight of the older man. "Garvan," Azriel greeted him, "It's good to see you."

“Likewise,” Garvan said, his smile widening, his good wing fanning slightly in greeting. “And who is your lovely lady?” His gaze went to Eira, who hovered just behind Azrael, her grey eyes taking in the sight of Garvan and the cottage.

"This is Eira," Azriel introduced her, his hand instinctively wrapping around her again, pulling her closer to him. "Eira, that's Garvan."

Garvan nodded in greeting, his smile turning soft as he looked at her, and Azriel could practically hear the questions the older male was asking in his mind, but instead, he said, "Don’t keep Esmeray waiting."

He gave Garvan a quick nod, and the man stepped aside, moving out of the doorway so Azriel and Eira could step into the cottage, into the warmth of his mother's home…

The first thing he noticed was the fire burning in the fireplace, flames dancing behind the grate, casting the entire room in a warm, orange light, and the second thing he noticed was the sight of his mother, standing in the little clearing between the kitchen and the living room.

There was a smile on her face as she took him in, grey eyes bright with warmth and affection, and he felt a sudden lump in his throat at the sight of her. She looked so young, her long black hair unbound, tumbling over her back like a river of ebony, her skin still smooth and lovely. Of course, she looked so young. She had been half a child when she had had him. Not that she had a choice in that matter.

"Azriel!" she greeted him, her excitement apparent. "Did you decide to finally honour me with your presence once again?" And there was her dry humour, as his mother came to hug him tightly. "At least this time you brought your mate, properly," she muttered under her breath, already yanking Eira into a surprising hug, squashing the flowers, Eira had insisted they bring along to his mother.

"Eira, so lovely to see you again. You look...less traumatised," his mother said drily.

Azriel let out an amused breath at his mother's bluntness, and he could see a wave of panic pass over Eira's face at the unexpected hug. But his mate managed a nervous laugh a moment later, "I do feel less traumatised," Eira said with another laugh. "I…We…We brought you flowers," Eira said quietly, thrusting a bouquet of dahlias in his mother's direction.

"How thoughtful of you," his mother said, her voice warm as she took the flowers from Eira, "And dahlias as well. My favourite. Though I imagine Azriel didn’t tell you that, did he?"

Eira's eyes widened slightly, and Azriel had a feeling that she had no idea his mother's favourite flowers were dahlias, she had picked them purely on instinct.

She looked up and waved them both in further. "Come take a seat. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes."

"Can I help with anything?" Eira asked immediately, and Azriel couldn't stop the soft smirk that tugged at his lips, the sense of affection in his chest warming as he heard the question. His mother let out a soft laugh, taking the question in stride.

"Not the slightest need," Esmeray told her, a kind smile on her face. "Azriel, however, can make himself useful and bring us some wine."

"I...uh, I don't drink," Eira blurted out. "Alcohol and I...really don't get on," she said with a grimace.

His mother looked at Eira considering, her eyes looking over her thoughtfully before nodding. "Fair enough," Esmeray said, not looking the slightest bit offended. "No wine then."

Azriel let out a small sigh of relief at that, feeling how Eira relaxed next to him slightly as well, and he saw the hint of a twinkle in his mother's eyes as she said, "Azriel can make us tea instead then."

"Sounds perfect," Azriel said, rolling his eyes. It was almost too easy, the sense of familiarity and comfort as he sat in his mother's cottage, and he found himself loving the moment, the way Eira slotted in so perfectly with his mother, no awkwardness between them. No, instead his mother had already pulled Eira into a conversation as she began to arrange the flowers into a vase, and Azriel left them to it, going into the kitchen to make the tea.

He found himself listening in on the conversation going on in the living room. He could still hear Eira's nervous tone, but even that was slowly disappearing, replaced by a relaxedness instead. By the time he went back to the living room, a tray with a pot of tea and a handful of teacups in his hands, Eira was laughing softly about something his mother said.

"And tell me, has the kitten gotten used to her new home?" his mother asked.

"She has," Eira confirmed, and Azriel put the tray down on the low table, taking a seat next to Eira, close enough to brush his leg against hers, just to feel that sense of connection, that closeness. "She has gotten quite comfortable in fact," Eira continued, a small smile tugging at her lips as she spoke. "Especially sitting on Azriel's lap."

"Snow is the most spoiled cat on this side of the ocean," Azriel agreed with a laugh.

Esmeray smiled in satisfaction, a twinkle in her eyes as she said, "Good. She seemed to be awfully taken with you so when Azriel asked for her for your birthday, I couldn't refuse."

Azriel smiled at that, unable to keep the fond, warm feeling those words gave him, the small wave of gratitude that went through him at his mother's actions. Snow had been the perfect gift, and clearly one that Esmeray had approved of as well.

"She does follow Eira everywhere," he said, and it wasn’t the least bit of an exaggeration. The little white ball of fur would never hesitate to demand Eira's attention, rubbing her face against her whenever possible.

"She's a demanding creature," Eira said with a soft, fond laugh. "She will sit on my lap and demand my attention until I give in." Azriel smiled as she spoke, the words so true. The way Snow could turn into a demanding little monster that would sit on Eira's lap for hours and demand her attention until she caved and started giving the cat head scratches... was adorable to see...

"Sounds like a cat," Azriel's mother agreed with a laugh, a warm expression on her face as she watched them. But there was a hint of something else in her expression as well, something almost…knowing, and Azriel had a feeling that his mother was seeing more than she was letting on. She was watching them, not just a little, but intently...

And then her eyes caught on Eira's hand, wrapped around the teacup, her ring on full display.

Azriel watched as his mother's gaze went to Eira's ring, watched as a slight twitch in her face revealed that she noticed it instantly. Esmeray’s eyes narrowed, her expression growing sharp, and Azriel had a feeling that he was holding his breath as he waited, as it felt like everything hinged on what his mother's response would be...

"Didn't I tell you to write me letters if anything life-changing happened in your life?" his mother asked him, her voice dry.

"I did," he said, the words sounding weak, and he heard his mother let out an exasperated huff at his answer.

"Azriel, writing letters to me once every decade does not count as writing letters when things happen in your life," Esmeralda all but chided him, her tone as unimpressed as her expression, and Azriel had a feeling her critical gaze would be focused on him if it wasn't for the fact that she was still eyeing Eira's hand with her ring. "You could have at least given me a forewarning!" his mother continued to chastise him. "Just a heads up would have been enough! I would have gotten out the champagne!"

"And leave the element of surprise out of the picture?" Azriel asked with an attempt at a charming smile, and he saw his mother roll her eyes at him in response.

"I can see you still haven't lost your penchant for dramatics, son," his mother said with a slight huff, but he saw the smile that threatened to pull at her lips, that hinted at her amusement at his words, and he knew the lecture was more for show than anything. "Tell me, Eira has my son at least asked you properly?!"

Eira's eyes widened slightly at the question, and Azriel could see the hint of nervousness flit over her face momentarily before he saw her face brighten a moment later, a small, giddy smile pulling at her lips. "He did. It was very romantic," she confirmed.

Azriel's mother let out another huff at that, shaking her head slightly even as a clear wave of satisfaction rolled over her expression. "At least my son has some basic manners," she said, and Azriel rolled his eyes, even as he felt a wave of relief at his mother's reaction. "You are making some progress, son. Thank you for taking pity on him though, Eira."

Eira snorted out a laugh, a hand covering her face. "I wouldn't call it a pity," Eira managed to bring out between giggles, and Azriel's head snapped in her direction and for a small moment it was almost too much, the sheer warmth twisting in his chest...

And his mother outright grinned in response, clearly delighted by Eira's words.

"Maybe not pity," Esmeray agreed, grinning widely. "But, at the very least, you have chosen to put up with his... oddities. Congratulations to you for that, Eira." Her tone was dry as she spoke, but there was no mistaking the hint of real approval underneath, the affection for Eira shining through.

Azriel let out a huff, rolling his eyes, despite the warm, fond affection still twisting in his chest. "Hey," he protested, without any real heat, his words falling on deaf ears as both of the women simply ignored his protest.

"Now, have you already set a date for the wedding?" his mother said briskly.

Azriel felt a wave of panic rush through him at the question, his eyes widening as he took in the hopeful, expectant look in his mother's eyes, and he was suddenly reminded of all the wedding plans they hadn't made yet. "Uh…" was all he managed to say, words failing him temporarily.

"Sometime after Winter Solstice at the Temple on the grounds of Rhys and Feyre's estate," Eira saved him.

Esmeray's eyes went from Azriel's to Eira’s and her entire face brightened immediately. Clearly, the answer had been exactly the sort of thing his mother had been hoping for, and she looked practically delighted, her eyes almost shining. "What a lovely location to have a wedding," she said with a soft, pleased hum. , and Azriel almost felt like blushing under her clear approval, feeling a mixture of flustered and fond. Esmeray looked over to Eira a moment later, a small, sly smile on her face as she leaned forward slightly as if to tell a secret. "And what about the dress?" she asked, and Azriel knew, even without looking, that her expression was full of clear delighted expectation as she spoke.

"Oh, I am making that myself," Eira answered easily like that was absolutely normal to do. Like Feyre and Rhys hadn’t both offered up every tailor Velaris had to offer, but Eira had refused it all. She wanted to make her own.

If the expression on his mother's face had been bright before, it was positively radiant now, Esmeray, eyes shining with an almost childish delight. "Are you?" she said, her voice filled with pleased disbelief. "You are a seamstress?"

Just like she was, just like Rhys' mother had been.

"I'm self-taught," Eira confirmed with a short, soft laugh, and Azriel found himself taking in her profile, the fond affection in his chest twisting even harder, even stronger, at the way his mother's eyes practically lit up at her words, Esmeray's face positively glowing in response.

They didn't really need him after that anymore, swapping ideas and tips, and Eira asking his mother question after question about Illyrian clothing and customs and Esmeray happily answering. And Azriel...well, he was just happy that the two most important females in his life got along so very well.

***

"Why is it green?" Nesta asked her, pursing her lips.

"Because it's my first attempt," Eira said quickly. "I figured if I hate it, at least I didn't use the good fabric," she said with a shrug. "It's still wearable, so I didn’t waste any fabric and I can figure out if I want to change anything..." She stared at the dress in the mirror, mustering it. Granted it looked nothing like a wedding dress right now. It was green cotton, and she stared at the long sleeves that covered her from shoulder to wrist, the neckline that dipped just low enough…

“And you are sure you want to make it yourself?” Feyre asked. “We can still go to a tailor and have it made, so you don’t have all the stress.”

Not that there was so much stress. The wedding had come together quickly, with a single 2-hour-long meeting about setting a date a few days after Winter Solstice and them telling the florists the flowers they wanted, snowdrops, the one thing Azriel seemed to have an opinion about it and that pretty much had been it.

Granted, they were invited less than a dozen people, with just the inner circle and Azriel’s mother in attendance, but that suited Eira and Azriel just fine.

Quite frankly, both of them would rather spend their time furnishing their house than plan a huge wedding and invite people they had nothing to do with.

Though granted, of them all, the shadows were definitely having much fun terrorizing the workers at the house and showing up constantly with one thing or another that they bought. Eira was kinda worried about what they were going to do once the house was inhabitable and they didn’t need 3 more carpets from Sangravah like the shadows had bought her the day before.

"No," Eira said firmly, the thought of wearing someone else's wedding dress making uneasiness twist in her stomach, her own skin itching at the thought. "I want to make it myself," she said, and she could practically feel Feyre looking her over, studying her expression…

“Maybe widen the skirt a little,” Feyre suggested as she nodded. “It’s your wedding. If there is ever an occasion to go over the top, that probably is it.”

Eira pursed her lips as she looked at the skirt, eyeing the way the fabric fell over her legs, and she had to admit, Feyre was right. "You think it's too narrow?" she asked, and she saw Feyre shrug in her mirror.

"Whatever you'll make will be beautiful," Nesta assured her. "Besides, you could wear a potato sack and Azriel would still want to take it off at the end of the night," she said with a grin.

She swallowed at that, fingers fiddling with the hem at one of the sleeves.

And that...that the other thing that was making her feel...nervous. The wedding...she wasn't nervous about it. She wanted Azriel as her husband. She wanted to marry him.

But the wedding night...

"He would," Feyre agreed with a laugh, and Eira felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Please tell me you aren't still worried that he doesn't want you like that," her younger sister teased her. “He looks at you like he wants to devour you."

She could nearly feel the icy fear that shot through her at that.

Devour her? Devour her? What did that even mean?!

"N-no," she said quickly, the word coming out fast as her cheeks burned. "I'm not." she swallowed hard, the thought of being devoured running through her head, and a wave of nervous fear rushed through her...

It wasn't that she didn't want to be...close to him. She...did. She wanted the press of his body against hers, that warm, heavyweight. She liked his kisses.

But...the idea of Azriel devouring her... She shouldn't be wanting this. She shouldn't be... a wife was supposed to do her duty. That's what it was about. And she shouldn't get a sense of enjoyment out of it. She shouldn't wonder how...sharing a bed with him would feel. She should...

She should simply go through with her duties, like a good, dutiful wife. Nothing else mattered, and she tried to remember that. Tried to remember what a wife was supposed to do...

But it didn't change how...how she felt. She didn't have the words for it, didn't understand this tangled, hot mess of thoughts in her head, this want that didn't make sense...

"What's wrong?" Feyre asked, and Eira jumped slightly as if she had been snapped out of a trance. She was still looking at herself in the mirror, and she realised that Feyre was studying her, watching her with a look that bordered on knowing.

"Wrong?" Her voice sounded high-pitched, slightly strangled, and Eira swallowed. "What could be wrong?" She asked, forcing herself to sound calm, trying to ignore the tangled mess inside her chest, the way her heart was beating too hard, too fast.

"I don't know," Feyre said, a hint of teasing in her voice as she spoke. "Why don't you tell me? You look like you're having a crisis."

"I'm not," Eira protested, and the words sounded false even to her own ears. And Feyre was looking at her, her sharp, observant eyes studying her intently, a faint frown on her face as she watched her...

"Are you worried about the wedding night?" Feyre asked suddenly, and the words hit her like a punch. The air was punched out of her lungs as Feyre spoke, and she found herself staring at Feyre's expression, her eyes wide.

"No!" she protested too quickly, her voice coming out in a high-pitched, strangled tone, high enough that she was sure both Feyre and Nesta were able to hear the lie in her words.

Feyre eyed her, that little frown not leaving her face, the knowing look in her eyes clearly not convinced.

"You are," she said, and there was a hint of amusement in her voice as if Feyre was having the time of her life watching her fumble, watching her try to deny the fact that she was dreading the wedding night. "You are worried about the wedding night," Feyre repeated, the hint of teasing in her voice making Eira's cheeks heat up even further…

"I'm not," she protested again, but the words sounded even weaker than the first time, even more fake than before. And Feyre's eyes were still on her, studying her, and Eira was sure Feyre knew, she was sure Feyre could see it written all over her face...

"Don't worry, Azriel has 500 years of practice," Nesta said drily.

She didn't...she didn't want to know what kind of 'practice' Nesta was referring to. Her heart began to race in her chest at the thought, and her face was burning, and she could still feel Feyre's eyes on her...

"You will be fine," Feyre assured her gently, and Eira could hear the hint of amusement in her voice. She could see the hint of a smirk pull at her lips, and as if to add insult to injury, Nesta let out a snort of laughter beside her.

"I-I know," Eira said quickly, and she was horrified to realise that her voice nearly trembled at the words. She could hear the way her pulse was pounding in her ears, could hear Feyre's voice echo in her head... 500 years of practice...

"Then what's the matter?" Feyre asked her, still that hint of amused teasing in her voice, and the urge to tell Feyre to shut up almost overwhelmed her. Instead, she clenched her teeth and forced her expression to remain neutral...

"There isn't anything the matter," she protested firmly, but her voice still trembled slightly, and Eira could see Feyre raise her eyebrows at her, clearly not convinced. She could feel Nesta's gaze on her on her side, and she knew that she saw right through her lie as well...

"Really," Feyre said, her voice sceptical, drawing out the word. "You're not at all worried about the wedding night, even after Nesta just told you that Azriel had 500 years to practice...whatever it is he likes to do between the sheets?" Feyre teased, a smirk pulling at her lips, and Eira felt her cheeks flush a darker red...

"No- I- That doesn't matter-!" she protested quickly, and she didn't want to know what Azriel had been practising, how many years worth of experience he had, how many females he had bedded, and it didn't make a single difference- Right?

"Then why are you so nervous?" Feyre asked her, her voice still dripping with amused teasing. "You have nothing to be worried about. All you have to do is marry an incredibly handsome male who is absolutely mad at you and who can't keep his hands off of you. Whatever is there to be nervous about?"

Heat shot through her entire body at Feyre's words, and her heart was nearly beating out of her chest. Eira didn't have the words. Didn't have the words to explain the twisted mess of nerves and anxiety and...excitement...in her stomach at Feyre's words, at the thought of Azriel's hands on her…

Didn't have the words to explain...that she had no clue what even happened between a wife and a husband.

"Have you ever...done it before?" Feyre asked suddenly, the question making a wave of heat shoot into her cheeks at the bluntness of the question. But before she had the chance to answer, Feyre added, "And don't lie to me," her eyes narrowed as she spoke.

"Of course not!" Eira exclaimed. When should she…when should she have had any man?

She heard Nesta's soft chuckle at her side, and for a moment, Eira wondered if Feyre was about to give a teasing response, but her younger sister suddenly got quiet. There was a moment of silence as she studied her, and her face was suddenly...serious.

"Have you ever...kissed him?" Feyre inquired, and Eira went stock still.

"Of course I-" Her protesting voice cracked slightly, and a moment later, Feyre's eyes widened. Even Nesta started looking at her in surprise, and Eira swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep her voice even. "O-of course I have," she continued. "Why...why would you even ask that...?"

She saw Feyre's look of surprise grow even wider still, and the way her gaze flicked to Nesta's, who was looking at her just as stunned. "Why...?" Feyre asked, and her voice was filled with both disbelief and amusement. "Just...how often have you kissed him?"

The question made another wave of heat shoot up her neck, and Eira swallowed again, forcing herself not to let her anxiety show. "I-" she said, faltering. "I-I don't know," The words sounded even weaker than she had thought was possible, and she could hear both Feyre and Nesta hum in response.

"Come on, think," Feyre instructed, still studying her with that look of disbelief on her face.

"A dozen times? Maybe?"

"A dozen times?" Feyre repeated, her voice filled with amused disbelief, and the sound made Eira's cheeks burn even hotter. "That's it? You have kissed your fiancé a dozen times?"

"Is that...is that not enough?" Eira heard herself ask, the words making both Feyre and Nesta raise their eyebrows further, and she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole at the looks on their faces.

"Not enough?" Feyre repeated a hint of laughter in her tone. "Eira, you're getting married. If anything, it's...not nearly enough, to say the least," she quipped, and that...that made her flush with heat again.

"Are you telling me...you have never gone further than that?" Feyre inquired a moment later, and Eira's whole face burned with an intense heat.

"I-what does-what does it matter?" She stuttered, the words stumbling over her tongue and her heart nearly exploding.

"...You do know what...how sex works, right?" Nesta asked her, her voice even. "Like the mechanics. You..."

"Of course, I know the mechanics!" She exclaimed, and a moment later, she realised that the protest had come a little too quickly, sounding a little too defensive. The look on Nesta's face made her feel as if she might as well have admitted that she didn't know.

"You do?" Feyre asked, and Eira wasn't sure how she was able to continue to look at them, with how furiously her cheeks were burning.

"Y-yes," she affirmed, the word coming out almost like a whisper.

"Well," Feyre said, a smirk pulling at her lips, "care to elaborate on what you know, Eira?"

Eira felt like all the air had been pulled out of her lungs at the question, the panic inside her chest suddenly exploding. "I...I..." She stuttered, her mind frozen, going completely blank. Say something say something say something a panicked little voice in her head shouted, but she didn't have the faintest idea as to what to say. Her heart was beating like a drum, her face burning like someone had lit it on fire, and all she could do was gape at Feyre...

"You...don't know," Feyre said with a mixture of disbelief and amusement in her voice. "You...you have no idea how males and females even work." Eira could practically feel Nesta's gaze on her, and judging by the look on Feyre's face, Nesta's was not the only disbelieving look directed at her.

"Of course...of course I know, I-" Her voice cracked slightly at the words, and she knew she was starting to sound ridiculous, knew that if Azriel was here, he would be looking at her with something akin to disbelief on his face at how completely idiotic she was being… "It's not proper to talk about this," she whispered, her voice weak.

"Not proper?" Feyre repeated a note of disbelief in her voice. "Eira, you are getting married. Talking about this...it comes with the territory." Eira felt as if a wave of cold had washed over her, and when she met Feyre's gaze, she saw something like...was that...pity in her eyes?

"Have you...not talked to Azriel about this at all?" Feyre inquired, and even pity sounded better than the disbelief mixed with...with horror that had crept into her voice.

"I wasn't aware that there was anything we needed to talk about," Eira said weakly. "I'll lay back and think of my duty and somehow babies come out of that as a result."

She wasn't sure what reaction she had expected from Feyre at her words, but for her younger sister to nearly fall off the bed in shock hadn't been among them. "You...you thought that-" Feyre gasped out, her voice strangled by a mixture of shock and...and disbelief.

"What...what else was I supposed to think?" Eira heard herself protest weakly, and she was horrified to realise that tears pricked at her eyes. Something about Feyre's pitying look made her insides twist, and the way her lips were parted in shock made an ugly feeling twist in her stomach...

"Well...for once, the most basic of information on how a baby is made." Feyre finally managed to get out, her voice still sounding absolutely shocked, and when Eira chanced a look over at Nesta, she nearly wanted to crawl under a rock. The look on Nesta's face could only be described as horrified disbelief, mirroring what was on Feyre's face so perfectly it was almost uncanny...

"Maybe we should call Madja," Nesta suggested drily.

"We absolutely do not need to call Madja," Eira protested quickly, and the thought of having to explain this...this mortification to a healer of Madja's experience made her want to die.

"We should," Feyre suddenly spoke up, and a note of determination had crept into her voice. "The fact that you're getting married and going to sleep in a bed with a male and you had no clue what actually...how the entire thing even works - you should have been told long before this."

Eira's heart immediately went into overdrive. "No," she protested firmly, her voice rising, "I swear to the cauldron, if I don't even know how it works I definitely don't want to have to have Madja explain it to me!"

Another wave of heat shot through her body at the thought, and Eira almost wanted to cover her ears and pretend this entire, mortifying conversation wasn't even happening. "Maybe Azriel then," Feyre suggested, and Eira could have sworn she heard Nesta snort out a laugh in response.

"Azriel?" Eira repeated, her voice high. "You want me to...ask my fiance to explain how babies are made?"

"As opposed to having a healer explain, I have a feeling you might fare much better with your future husband," Feyre said, and there was a note of dry humour in her voice.

“Given that he’s the one with which you are going to do all the baby-making,” Nesta snorted. “Alternatively, we can explain things to you, but you are looking like you want to run away.”

"I'm not-" Her voice cracked, and her whole body trembled slightly. She knew by the looks on Feyre and Nesta's faces that there was no way she would be able to deny how utterly flustered she was. No way to deny how utterly humiliating this conversation was.

"Well we certainly can't send you to your wedding night not knowing a single thing," Feyre said firmly, and there was no hint of humour in her voice anymore. Her eyes were focused on her intently, studying her like a hawk, and Eira knew there was no way out. No way out of the mortifyingly awkward, horrifying, humiliating situation...

"I can...I can figure it out on my own," Eira protested weakly, and she heard Nesta snort out a laugh again.

"There's no escaping this," Nesta told her firmly, the hint of command in her voice. "We're going to talk about this, no matter how flustered and uncomfortable it makes you. It's much better that someone explains things to you than you go into your wedding night completely unprepared."

"How-how do you even..." Eira started quietly, and she hated the way her words were almost a whimper, hated the way her voice trembled slightly.

How do you even begin to explain this?

"Why don't you start by sitting down," Feyre suggested drily, her voice still firm.

Slowly, with trembling legs, Eira sat down on the bed, and she was unable to look at Feyre in the eyes.

"Good start," Feyre said, and there was a note of dry humour to her voice. "Now...take a deep breath, and relax."

Eira took a deep breath, trying to force her body to relax for once, and it took nearly every last ounce of her energy. She couldn't relax, not with the way she was trembling inside, shaking with a mixture of mortification, humiliation, and nervousness...

“Good advice for your wedding night as well,” Nesta said drily. “Relax. Sex is supposed to be fun.”

No, it wasn’t. It was her wifely duty and nothing more and the fact that she wanted more than simply kiss Azriel was already….

“Grandmama would kill us all,” Eira blurted out.

"Grandmama?" Feyre repeated, and if she was surprised by the sudden outburst, there was no hint of it in her voice. The sound of her grandmother's name was enough to make Eira instantly flinch, and even Nesta shot her a look from the side...

”Please tell me you don’t believe whatever utter bullshit she may have said to you,” Nesta seethed. “What did she tell you, Eira?”

“That whatever happens in a marriage is my wifely duty to carry?” Eira said weakly

"That's complete bullshit," Feyre protested at once. "Your so-called duty is not to simply lie back and do what's required of you. You're allowed to...to enjoy yourself. You do know that, right? Please tell me you know that..."

"I-I-" Eira tried to protest once more, and the words caught in her throat again. You're allowed to enjoy yourself...

The words repeated themselves in her mind, and something deep and hot stirred within her, heat shooting out through her veins, burning hotter than flames...

"Eira?" Feyre's voice was soft this time, with no hint of command or sternness in her voice anymore. "Please...please tell me you know that you don't simply have to lie back and let...let that happen. You are allowed to enjoy yourself...you know that, right?" She repeated, her eyes intent on her, studying her.

"I...I..." Her voice was little more than a whisper, her heart hammering so fast that she was surprised it hadn't beaten itself right out of her chest.

It was too much, too much to comprehend right now, to comprehend that she was allowed the enjoy what happened between a husband and a wife. You are allowed to enjoy yourself...

"You are allowed to have fun," Feyre said again, and there was a hint of determination in her voice. "You can enjoy yourself....and Azriel will do everything in his power to make sure you do..."

Another wave of heat shot through her body at Feyre's words, and her mind froze, her thoughts suddenly coming to a screeching halt. Enjoy herself...

Enjoy herself, with Azriel - Her heart slammed so hard against her ribs that she was surprised she didn't break all of them.

The image of Azriel flashed through her mind like lightning, and a wave of heat shot out from the very thought of him touching her, caressing her…

"Breathe," Nesta suddenly said, and Eira hadn't even realized she had started to forget to breathe.

"In and out," Feyre instructed, her voice still gentle. "Slow, deep breaths, Eira." Eira obeyed, and slowly, her heart rate started to return to some semblance of normal.

"Good," Feyre said at once. Now...if you allow it, I think it's time we explained some basic...anatomy."

The words made another wave of heat rush up her spine, and Eira let out a shaky breath. "A-anatomy...?" She repeated, her voice a strangled whisper.

"Basic male and female anatomy for starters," Feyre said, her voice still firm, even if she did take a more gentle tone than before. "The different...parts, as it were."

Another wave of heat shot to her cheeks at the matter-of-fact way Feyre spoke, and a moment later, something inside her crumbled, and collapsed.

"I...I have no clue what different parts you're even talking about," she mumbled, the confession burning on her tongue like hot coals...

"Not a single part?" Feyre inquired, and once more, there was no judgment, no condemnation in her voice.

Only an honest question, one that Eira knew she had to answer.

"No," she admitted after a moment. "I have not even the faintest idea..."

"You...you don't know anything about Azriel's anatomy?" This time, Feyre couldn't quite keep the surprise out of her voice, and an image of Azriel's bare chest flashed through Eira's mind without her even meaning to picture it.

A wave of heat shot up her spine at the thought, and Eira shook her head mutely. "No...I don't," she admitted, her voice strangled, and at the side, she swore she could hear Nesta snort out a breath as if this were something to laugh at. "We are going to need a...visual aid," Nesta announced before either Eira or Feyre could say another word.

“Shadows, could you make yourself useful and bring me the book from my nightstand? And then please leave us alone for the rest of the afternoon.”

There was a flutter of dark shadows in the corner of the room, and after a long moment, more shadows appeared again, one of them holding a single, slender book out for Nesta to take...

“What kind of book is that?” Feyre asked carefully.

Nesta snorted. “It’s a…sex book,” she admitted drily. “With the most adventurous positions you can imagine.”

Another wave of heat shot through Eira at Nesta's words, and for a moment, her thoughts stopped completely.

Positions? What kind of positions?!

"With pictures?" Feyre inquired, and the disbelief was more than obvious in her tone of voice.

"A lot of pictures," Nesta said, her voice still dripped with dry humour. "I don’t think there’s a single position the author hasn’t found a way to put into a drawing…”

"You...you really read that...that thing?" Eira was horrified to hear that her voice was strangled, the words coming out of her mouth in a high-pitched whine...

“Cassian and I get bored sometimes,” Nesta said with a shrug.

"You...you read that thing when you get bored ?" Eira asked, her voice strangled. Just the thought of Nesta and Cassian reading...reading those things, doing... position in the drawings…

"Sometimes the pictures give us... ideas," Nesta said drily, and once more, Eira could have sworn she heard someone chuckle. "Cassian is nothing if not adventurous."

"I don't...I don't need to know that," Eira protested, her face once more flushing a deep red at the thought of Cassian and Nesta together. Doing...what, she didn't even dare to imagine...

"No, probably not," Nesta said in something that sounded like agreement. "However, with the way you react to every mention of anything sexual, I think the pictures in this book might just give you a whole new understanding of the...mechanics."

Another wave of heat shot down Eira's back at the words, and once more, a shiver of nerves shot through her at the thought of...of the pictures. "Mechanics...what do you…I..." she started to babble.

"Calm down," Nesta instructed firmly, and her voice had a gentle, commanding note to it. "We need to get those pictures to make you...understand the anatomical differences between males and females, not to horrify you..."

"We're well past horrified at this point," Eira mumbled, but she nodded mutely nonetheless.

"Are you ready, then?" Feyre inquired gently, and Eira wasn't at all sure that she was.

"I..." Eira swallowed hard. "Yes," she choked out, even though she knew that the lie was more than obvious...

"All right then," Nesta said, her voice still oddly soothing, at least for her. "We're going to skip most of the pictures for now unless there's anything specific you want an explanation for, and explain some of the...parts that are important."

"Parts that are...what?" Eira echoed weakly, and the heat in her stomach felt like molten lava at this point.

"For now, we're going to stick to the basic, anatomical parts," Feyre instructed calmly. "So...let's start with a male, shall we?"

"All right," Eira mumbled, her eyes focused on the slender brown book that sat in Nesta's lap. It didn't look dangerous, but she knew that the things on those pages would most likely shock her to bits...

"Let's start with...the groin, or the...crotch, as some people call it," Feyre said, and Eira could see that she was having a hard time not laughing at the sheer mortification on her face.

"The...crotch..." Eira echoed, and every word coming out of her mouth made the redness on her face grow deeper as if she'd been standing in the freezing cold of Winter for days.

"The crotch," Feyre repeated, "or the genitalia, if you want the official term."

"The...genitalia..?" This time, her voice was so high-pitched, that it was near a squeak. Gods, the thought of Azriel's genitalia suddenly filled her mind like a dark, hot cloud, swirling over her...

“Here,” Nesta said drily, flicking open the book and shoving it towards Eira.

“That’s a cock. Or a prick. Or a penis or whatever else you want to call it.”

Eira glanced at the picture that was now open in the book, and what heat hadn’t already been in her face rushed up in flames.

It…it wasn’t exactly what she’d pictured when…when she’d thought of Azriel’s…parts…

“If you want to…make a baby,” Nesta said. “The male needs to insert his…prick into the female.”

"Insert...? Insert himself where?"

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #the prophecy #Looked to the sky

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lvnleah · 3 months ago

Text

Month Two

word count: 2.3k

find the masterlist here!

June 19th 2023 | 2 months.

Leah stood by the door, suitcase in hand, her brow furrowed with worry. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked for the third time that morning.

You nodded, laughing at her concern. "We'll be fine, Le. It's just a few days. Finley and I have got this."

She glanced down at Finley, who was lying in your arms wide awake. "I know, but it's my first time leaving you two alone. What if he needs me?"

"Then we'll call you," you said gently. "It's just a camp. You'll be back before you know it."

Leah was leaving for a lionesses preparation camp. For the next three days, she was going to be away at St George’s Park and you were planning on joining her at the weekend.

After that weekend she was spending another week on camp and you were going to come back home before joining her at the weekend again. You had arranged that you would join her in the Netherlands for the week after to join her on that instead of being apart.

Neither of you had been away from Finley yet so it was a big thing for Leah considering that she’d only get to see him on the weekends for the next two weeks. Finley was eleven weeks old, two and a half months, and leaving the newborn stage, something you’d cried about a lot over the past week.

He was now more alert and his little legs and arms would kick all the time, especially when you cracked a smile from him. He’d found his little voice too, he had learnt how to coo and whenever you talked to him he’d coo back in response.

He had also learnt how to grip things, something you didn’t enjoy while breastfeeding because he found it great to pull on your hair. Whenever he was cuddled close to Leah, he’d grip her necklace with his little hands.

Leah sighed and leaned in for one more kiss. "Alright, call me if you need anything. I mean it, pretty girl."

"We will," you reassured her, your hand resting on Finley's tiny back. "Now go, or you'll be late."

Leah pressed a kiss to Finley’s forehead before stealing another kiss from you. As soon as she was gone, you turned to Finley with a smile. "Alright, little guy. It's just you and me."

Finley gurgled in response, his blue eyes which were identical to Leah’s stared up at you with curiosity. You spent the day following the usual routine: feeding, napping, and playing. Finley was starting to develop a more predictable schedule, which made things a bit easier.

That evening, you sat down with Finley in your lap, his favourite blanket draped over him. You pulled out your phone and started a video call with Leah. When her face appeared on the screen, Finley's eyes lit up, and he let out a delighted coo.

"Hey, there's my boy!" Leah said, her face softening with a smile.

Finley’s back was pressed against your stomach, and as Leah began to talk his face turned into her signature frown. You could tell he was confused as to why his Mumma was on the phone screen and not with him in person.

"We miss you," you said, your hand playing with Finley’s tiny one.

"I miss you both too," Leah replied. "But it's so good to see you. How's he been today?"

"He's been great. Lots of smiles and giggles. He's really starting to show his personality."

Leah nodded, "I can't wait to hold him again. And you too. It feels like ages.”

"Leah, it's been six hours!” You laughed, “You seriously can’t go six hours without your wife and baby?”

Leah chuckled, "It's harder than I thought it would be. But I'm glad you're both doing okay."

Finley, now more interested in the screen, stared at Leah through the screen. "Looks like someone is confused," you laughed.

Leah's smile widened. "Hey, little man! Are you good for Mummy?”

Finley responded with a small, curious coo, reaching out towards the screen as if trying to touch Leah. You gently held his tiny hand, smiling at his reaction.

"He's been an angel," you said, bouncing Finley lightly on your knee. "He's adjusting well. I think it's me who misses you more."

Leah's eyes softened even further. "I miss you too. But you're doing an amazing job. I always knew you would."

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "But I'll be glad when we're all back together."

The call continued for a little longer, with Leah sharing stories from her day and you updating her on Finley's latest antics, Keira popped in to say hi for a minute before leaving for a shower.

After the call ended, you began your nightly routine, bathing Finley and getting him into his pyjamas. As you rocked him in your arms, you started humming a lullaby. But tonight, something was off. Finley was unusually fussy, squirming and crying despite your best efforts to soothe him.

"It's okay, Bubba," you whispered, patting his back gently. "You're just missing Mumma, huh?"

You tried everything—singing his favourite songs, rocking him in different positions, even walking around the house with him—but Finley continued to cry, his little face scrunched up. Your own exhaustion was beginning to set in.

"Come on, Finley," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "It’s okay, bubs."

Finally, you sank into the rocking chair in the corner of your room, holding Finley close. You pulled out your phone and hesitated for a moment before dialling Leah's number. When she answered, her face was immediately filled with concern.

"Hey, pretty girl, what’s wrong talk to me.” She said, quickly sitting up in her bed.

"He won’t settle, Le," you admitted, your voice wavering. "He's fussy tonight. I can't seem to settle him."

Leah's expression softened with empathy. "Have you tried the white noise machine?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I've tried everything. I think he just misses you."

Usually, Leah was the one that settled him to sleep after you had fed him. You had found a routine that worked for you both during the evenings, especially if Leah had been training or out all day.

Leah sighed. "I miss him too. Let me try talking to him again."

You adjusted the phone so Leah's face was visible to Finley. "Hey, Bubba," Leah cooed. "Mumma's here. It's okay, baby."

Finley's cries quieted a bit at the sound of her voice, and he stared at the screen with wide, tear-filled eyes. Leah continued to talk to him softly, her voice a soothing presence even through the phone. Gradually, his cries stopped, and he started to calm down.

"You're doing great," Leah said to you, her voice filled with love and encouragement. "Just keep holding him close. He’ll fall asleep while you’re rocking him.”

With Leah's help, you eventually managed to get Finley to drift off to sleep. You carefully placed him in his crib next to your bed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

"Thank you," you whispered to Leah, your own eyes brimming with tears.

"You’re doing great, pretty girl," she replied softly. "I love you both so much."

"We love you too," you said.

You ended the call and watched Finley sleep peacefully, scrolling on your phone for a little bit before drifting off to sleep yourself.

The next few days passed in a blurb. After the first day of Leah being gone, you started to manage things by yourself and Finley was better at falling asleep without her. Thursday afternoon, you managed to take Finley out for a walk at the local park and grab yourself a coffee too.

As you arrived home, your phone rang. You smiled once you saw it was Leah before answering it. Her face appeared on your phone, you heard the chatter around her coming from the canteen as Beth sat beside her and Grace rested her head on top of Leah’s.

"Hey, you three," you smiled, adjusting Finley's blanket as he lay in his stroller.

"Hey!" Beth said. "How's my favourite boy doing?"

"He's great," you replied, flipping the camera around to a sleeping Finley in his pram. "We just got some fresh air. He loves being outside."

"Look at him, he’s adorable!" Grace said with a grin. "I miss you, Leah’s annoying.”

"I miss you too,” you laughed, “Le, leave the poor girl alone.”

Leah rolled her eyes, pushing Grace off her. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow."

"We can't wait either," you said, feeling a pang of longing. "How's camp going?"

"It's hard, but good," Leah replied. "Everyone's working hard.”

Grace nudged Leah playfully. "She's been talking about you two non-stop."

"That's because I miss them," Leah said, nudging Grace back.

Beth laughed, "We all miss you guys. But we're keeping Leah out of trouble."

"Good," you said with a smile. "Make sure she doesn't work too hard."

"Always," Grace replied, winking.

As the call continued, you chatted about your day, shared some laughs, and updated Leah on Finley's latest milestones. The conversation you had through the screen made the distance a little more bearable.

Eventually, it was time to say goodbye. "I love you," Leah said, blowing a kiss towards the screen.

"Love you too," you replied, blowing a kiss back. "See you tomorrow."

Leah smiled. "Tomorrow can't come soon enough."

After ending the call, the rest of the evening went smoothly, with Finley drifting off to sleep after a peaceful bath and some gentle rocking. You managed to get some much-needed rest yourself, knowing tomorrow would be an early start.

The next morning arrived early with anticipation. You packed up a small overnight bag Finley and a large suitcase that would do you for the weekend. You quickly double-checked everything, ensuring you had everything you needed for the weekend at St. George's Park. Finley's favourite stuffed toy, his snug blanket, and a few extra outfits were all carefully tucked away.

By midday, you were on the road with Amanda, the excitement building as you neared the training camp. Finley, snug in his car seat, babbled happily to himself, his little feet kicking in excitement before he fell asleep.

Arriving at the camp, you saw Leah waiting outside the building, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw you. She rushed forward, enveloping you both in a hug.

“I missed you so much," she murmured, into your neck before pulling back and kissing your lips.

You savoured the kiss, something you’d missed over the past few days, “I missed you too, love.”

She rounded the back of the car to the other side to unstrap Finley when you and Amanda got the suitcases out.

Finley, recognizing his mumma, let out an excited coo. She took him into her arms, holding him close and pressing kisses to his cheeks. "Hey, Bubba. Mumma missed you so much."

You watched them, heart swelling with love “He missed you too," you said, wrapping an arm around Leah.

The weekend was a blissful reunion. You spent time watching Leah train, proud of her hard work despite a few sleepless nights. In the evenings, you enjoyed quiet moments together, catching up on the days you'd spent apart and cherishing the time as a family.

On Sunday evening, as you prepared to head back home, Leah held Finley close, not wanting to let go. "I hate this part," she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

"We'll be back soon," you reassured her, giving her a lingering kiss. "And next week, we'll be together in the Netherlands."

Leah smiled, nodding. "I can't wait."

You said your goodbyes, promising to call every night, and made your way back home. The journey felt bittersweet, but the anticipation of the upcoming reunion kept your spirits high.

The week passed quickly with the familiar routine. Each night, you and Leah connected through video calls, sharing your day and keeping each other close despite the distance. Finley grew more accustomed to seeing Leah on the screen, his little face lighting up each time.

Finally, the day arrived to join Leah in the Netherlands. You packed carefully, ensuring you had everything you needed for the trip. As you boarded the flight, excitement bubbled within you. Finley was a champ during the journey, his wide eyes taking in the new surroundings.

Arriving in the Netherlands, you were greeted by Leah and Keira. Leah took Finley into her arms while Keira helped you with your suitcases.

The reunion was everything you had hoped for and more. Leah held Finley as if she’d never let him go, her eyes shining with happiness and relief. Keira cracked a joke about being the official luggage carrier, making you all laugh, and easing the tension of the past week.

The next few days in the Netherlands felt like a dream. Between Leah's training sessions and games, the three of you explored the city streets, enjoying every stolen moment of togetherness. Finley’s delighted coos filled the air as Leah pushed his stroller, the two of them sharing a connection that no distance could weaken.

Leah's teammates often joined you, bringing a lively energy to your small family outings. One evening, as the sun set over the canals, Leah wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. Finley slept soundly in his stroller beside you.

“This is perfect,” Leah whispered, placing a kiss on your temple.

You nodded, leaning into her. “It really is. I’m so proud of you, Leah. You’re balancing it all so well—being an amazing mum and smashing it in football.”

Leah kissed your temple again., her smile softening. “I couldn’t do it without you, pretty girl. You’re even better, doing it alone while I’m gone.”

The trip ended all too soon, and before you knew it, you were back home, settling into the rhythm of everyday life again. No matter where Leah’s career took her, or how many miles separated you, one thing remained certain: home was where the three of you were together. And that was all that mattered.

#lvnleah #awfc #leah williamson #the williamson’s #finley williamson

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soap-ify · 1 year ago

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hold on i got this idea randomly and its like past midnight so yeah... bear with me.

thinking about reader who works at a local cafe, and might be just a little crazy about price who's new to the area, slowly becoming a regular customer of this cafe.

it wasn't as if you weren’t freakily obsessed with him or anything. you were just too infatuated with him, having memorised his order by heart, memorised the way his eyes would crinkle in delight whenever he’d find out that you already had his tea all prepared, nice and warm — just the way he likes it. wait, how did you know he was going to come at this exact same time?

you couldn’t help it. he was a walking distraction — always sitting at the far edge table in the cafe, absorbed in some paperwork or just simply staring out of the window, looking so unreal. you needed to read him, learn everything about him, learn all of his schedule and stuff.

you’d accidentally forget to add a thing or two in his orders sometimes. he ordered a cookie? oops, you forgot it. but it’s okay, you wanted him to approach you and start a conversation, even if it's over some missed cookie.

sometimes he’d have a woman next to him, discussing some stuff very quietly, making it quite obvious that it was over whatever their job was given how he always handed her those papers.

you had to be rational, you had to. but how could you when he was always smiling so brightly at her? especially when she herself was so pretty. were you really getting insecure during your shift? yeah.

you couldn’t start a ruckus here by doing something impulsive, but you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tempted to.

you were too nervous to start a conversation on your own too. not even a proper “how’s your day going?”

your obsession stuck with you staring at him throughout your work shift as long as he was there, carefully looking at the watch on his wrist and the case of his phone, figuring out all the brands in your head.

you had even figured out what perfume he wore during one encounter when you caught a whiff of his cologne — not strong and quite masculine. it suited him so much. you remember spending an hour in the male perfume section in a local store that day.

and oh, price knew all of it. he wasn’t stupid. he was too smart in fact, always feeling your scrutinising and curious gaze on him, filled with an odd longing. he had noticed the way your hands would accidentally brush against his sometimes when giving him his order, the way you would shyly hand him some extra stuff for free sometimes.

heck, he even noticed the way you gave him one of your napkins once, saying that he might need it. what were you even trying to do, claim him? yeah, that was your little way of leaving something of yours to him.

you’d feel sick sometimes, all head over heels over just a regular customer, writing letters and letters over him, simply rambling about how nice his voice was and how warm he seemed, just wanting those strong hairy arms of his to cradle you against him. sometimes you’d also just write about all the interactions you had with him. your favourite memory was when he first told you his name, resulting in you squealing into your pillow the whole night happily. john.

of course, you were never going to send these letters to him.

unbeknownst to you, price was always staring at you too whenever you were distracted by some other customers, his fingers lightly rubbing against his beard. who knew a sweet thing like you could be so... eager? you were like some desperate starved puppy to needy for something, anything.

and maybe he needed to do something about it. he might even dig some information of you through some people, who knows? maybe keep you all to himself.

#struggling to form words but you guys get what my vision is here right!!#silly reader... and even sillier price.#price x reader #john price x reader #price mw2 #john price #cod x reader #call of duty #rurufic

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babybatss-blog · 4 months ago

Note

Heyyyy! How’s everything going?

If you’re up for it, I’d love to see a Sirius Black x fem reader where she’s sick or injured and he takes care of her.

Totally understandable if this doesn’t inspire you though!

Have an awesome day 🥰

DELUSIONS AND DAYDREAMS

Sirius x f!reader, 1000 words

a/n: hey anon, im doing good thank you! I hope everyone is also doing well :) this was such a cute lil fic, I hope it’s the right dosage of fluff mixed with angst for your day <3

c/w: friends with tension. Reader has a twisted ankle, smoking, sexual connotations and a confession of love.

He warned you not to do it, he really did. When you said you were going ice-skating on the black lake with your friends he told you that you’re “too clumsy for your own good”, but due to your unresolving stubbornness you went anyways. So he’s not surprised when Marlene messages him a few hours later, bluntly stating that you “twisted your ankle and need someone to come and get you.”

Without a second thought he walks down to you, throwing some weak and easily transparent excuse over his shoulders to his friends. Rest assured the moment he leaves James will make a comment on how head over heels for you he is. When he arrives, it doesn’t take him long to spot you. You’re sitting alone on the edge of the lake, snow cushioning your jeaned legs from the ground and a despondent look on your face as you watch your friends laugh and scream without you. His poor girl, you look so upset by yourself. He creeps up behind you, sitting down to meet your sniffily little figure.

“Hey darling.” He coos, the oddly romantic pet name rolling off his tongue like many times before. “Siri…” You mutter, flopping your forehead onto his shoulder weakly. Sirius chuckles, scratching your head comfortingly. “Come on, I’m taking you back to my dorm.” You groan, not even moving from your spot, but Sirius doesn’t give in easily. He never does. Instead he merely huffs, effortlessly picking you up regardless of your protests. You always tell him he’s “too much”, constantly flirting or playing with you. “I’m not going to ever get a boyfriend if you keep on doing this!” you always yell. Perhaps that’s his plan, because he’s been desperately in love with you from the day you first met.

As you walk, he ignores the judging stares of others and instead opts to focus on easing your pain.

“How bad does it hurt?”

“Like a seven out of ten.”

“Well that’s no good princess! You didn’t try any spells on it?”

“Lilly did, but I don’t think it helped much”

“I’ve got some tokes in my room, maybe that’ll help.”

“Yay!!”

When the two of you arrive, the boys are sitting in the common room, staring disappointedly at him as he carries you into his room. He knows later he’ll get some lecture by Remus about how he needs to start “putting himself first”, but he doesn’t care one bit when he sees you lying on his bed, silky hair spread out on his linen and eyes fluttering in a daze. What if he was on top of you right now, making you scream his name with that pretty little voice and scrunched up face and-

No. He can’t think about that. It’s wrong.

As promised earlier, Sirius whips out a pack of cigarettes and hands you one, smiling when you giggle in delight. The two of you sit in a blissful silence for a while, both separately enjoying the smoke and depth within both of your lungs. That is, until you break the silence with something Sirius wouldn’t even imagine in his own mind.

“Wouldn’t it be crazy if we dated?” Hah, that would be insane he thinks, respective of his own ideas. Instead Sirius just stays silent, too scared of what could blurt out of his mouth. “Cause Frank mentioned something to me the other day that got me thinking… Why did nothing ever happen between us?” Sirius darts his head up to meet you, puzzled by the question. Truthfully, he has pondered this very idea on many sleepless nights, wondering why you always went for the good, boring guys and never blushed whenever he makes some blatant flirt in your direction. He was hot, other girls tell him that all the time. And you know that you can trust him, you’ve been friends for years. But of course it never happened. Perhaps your just out of his league.

“I-I don’t know. I guess we were just never into each other like that.” He finally manages. You scoff, your half lidded eyes looking at him in jest. “That’s not true. I was crazy for you all of year one two and three.” “Wait, what?” You laugh at his shock, which quickly turns into a grimace as you moved your foot in some awkward way, forgetting it was injured. “Sirius, you could never tell? I used to pray to Merlin that you would like me back, but then you got with Daisy M and I moved on.”

Every moment, every time he cursed himself for feeling how he does and dreaming about you came crashing down on him. How could he be so stupid? In one big puff his cigarette is finished, snuffing it out onto his battered and broken bedside table and placing his head in his hands.

Although it appeared distant in his confused state, he heard your voice clearly rattling his brain as you continue to speak. “I think we could do it. Like, we could be a thing. Your hot, I’m… average and we know each other better than anyone. Plus, it would probably be easiest. Instead of wasting our time trying to find someone else.” Sirius tries not to break down at your words, revealing it’s all he’s ever wanted. “Just a chance” he would say, “Just one chance to prove I’m worth your time.”

But before he can say any of the millions of thoughts swirling around in his head your fast asleep, the pain from earlier finally catching up with you and the cigarette ash coating his bed to the side of you.

He brushes it off, kisses your forehead and walks out.

“I love you darling.”

#sirius black x reader #marauders #marauders x reader #hp marauders #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius x reader fluff #babybatss blog

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sturniolo-rat · 8 months ago

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Cake Eater’s Delight

Matt Sturniolo X Reader

A/N: here’s your anal fic as promised! I spent way too much time describing yoga positions. For this, I am extremely sorry.

Contains: smut, anal, oral, butt plugs

TW: BEARS! Also, the term "Butt Slut" You give me a simple request, and I will do the absolute most

Y/N is wearing yoga pants that accentuate her ass. Matt is intent on fucking it.

Today is self-care Sunday, and Y/N just finished making a strawberry banana smoothie with extra protein powder for her boyfriend, Matt. It’s seven a.m., and she has the whole day planned, but first, she has to get him up and ready.

“Wakey wakey, My sweet boy.” she chirps eagerly, holding the smoothie to his face.

“Oh god.” he groans, wipes the sleep from his eyes, and sees how hyped Y/N is. Still very disoriented, he says, “I see you’re having a good morning, Baby, but what time is it?”

“It’s seven a.m. and I’m super excited for our early morning nature walk!”

He sits up and sighs. “The fuckin’ nature walk.” Matt was actually pretty enthusiastic about this last night when he agreed to it, but not so much this morning. It’s too early, and he just wants Y/N to come back and be the big spoon for the next two hours. The smoothie, however, is immaculate, and he made her a promise. He summons all of his strength and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He sits facing Y/N and says with a smile, “I’ve never been more pumped for anything in my life!” Y/N gives him a bone-crushing hug before skipping off to get him the outfit she picked for him yesterday. Matt can’t help but stare at her booty as she makes her way to the closet. Those damn yoga pants get him every time.

Half an hour later, they arrive at the closest California state park. Matt is warming up to the idea of this walk. He really does love nature, and having a little stroll in it is certainly something he would do as self-care. “Maybe we’ll see a bear!” Y/N squeals.

“I love bears. They're so fucking big and dumb.” He really does hope they see a bear. His excitement over seeing a dangerous animal in the wild isn’t his fault. He has a very serious condition called white man curiosity. Bless him and his family.

As they walk the dirt trail, Matt tells her facts about all the animals and plants they encounter. At some point, the trail leads them to a very colorful part of the woods filled with flowers. The trail has slowly been getting narrower, so Matt is now walking behind Y/N. “Baby, If I sincerely told you that I accidentally body-swapped with my sister, would you believe me?”

He’s deeply confused by the question, but he has an answer for it, regardless. “I would probably ask you a question that only you could answer first.” he pauses to laugh at how silly she is. “Would you believe me?”

“Most definitely,” she responds with unnatural quickness.

Matt is taken aback. “Why so certain?”

“Well, now that we’ve had the conversation, I don’t think you’d say you were body-swapped unless it actually happened.”

He’s getting very invested in the conversation now. “I’m not worried about it because you only really get body-swapped with people you dislike. So I don’t think there’s any danger of this happening to me and my brothers.”

“I don’t hate my sister, but we are polar opposites, so I see body-swap potential.”

“Be careful not to get sucked into any body-swapping hijinks, My love.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.”

Suddenly, he grabs her arm and stops her in her tracks. Y/N turns around to look at him, but all she sees is a beautiful array of flowers. Matt had been behind her, picking a bouquet of flowers as they talked. He moves the flowers from in front of his face and hands them to Y/N. “It’s a thank-you gift. I truly am having an amazing time today.”

“This is insanely fucking sweet. Thank you so much, Baby.” She leans in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. “I think we should start heading back though. We’re getting kinda far out.” They had gotten lost in each other's company and didn’t notice that they had been walking for an hour and covered at least 2 miles of the 5-mile trail.

Matt tears his gaze from Y/N’s face to take in their environment. “Goddamn, we’re like way out in the fuckin wild!” He can tell Y/N is getting somewhat uncomfortable with the thought of being so deep in the woods, so he holds out his hand for her to take and starts to walk her back down the trail.

Y/N lets go of his hand and taps him furiously on the shoulder. “Matt. Matt, it actually fucking happened. Look!” she whispers in his ear and points into the distance.

“A bear!” Matt yells.

“Hush!” she hits him hard on the head. “Don’t be the idiot who gets killed because he screamed at a bear. Just get the camera out.”

He fumbles with his backpack but realizes he didn’t pack it. He was so sure they wouldn’t come across a bear. The pictures and videos he takes on his phone will have to do for their next vlog. Once Matt has all the bear material he needs, they continue down the dirt path, tip-toeing very quietly.

When they finally reach their car, they’re exhausted, sweaty, and gross. Matt, however, is also rocking a semi. He’s been walking behind Y/N for hours now, watching how her ass moves. They’ve just started experimenting with butt stuff recently. He’s been obsessed with her backside ever since. He can't get the image of the pink hello kitty butt plug sticking out of her ass out of his mind. The drive home is pleasant and gives him time to calm down. Matt doesn’t want his horniness to get in the way of the day Y/N has planned.

They arrive home, and Y/N flops on their bed. The walk was way longer than it was supposed to be. She’s anxious to tell Matt about the next activity she has planned, but she needs a quick break to hydrate. Matt comes in clutch and brings her the Stanley cup she filled up that morning but forgot to bring. She sits up and takes the cup. “Thank,” she says as she takes a sip. “God!”

“Don’t thank God. Thank me, Honey.” he winks as she absolutely chugs her water. There’s water dripping from the sides of her mouth running down her neck and breasts. Fuck she can even make drinking like a feral caveman look sexy. When she finishes, she sets the cup down, and Matt’s dick jumps in his pants. She looks like she could be in a wet t-shirt contest. He’s really fighting for his life right now and needs an activity to distract himself. “Alright! Get up, Baby. It’s time for whatever’s next on the list.” He hopes it's something lame and calming like meditation or maybe some silly facial skin routine.

“Okay, I’ll go get the yoga mats and bring them to the living room.” She hops up from the bed, fully recharged and energetic as ever. “Oh, yay. I’m gonna bring my new yoga ball, too!”

“Oh, good!” he says quite insincerely. He should have seen this coming. She’s wearing the yoga pants she reserves for actually doing yoga. This is going to be torture. He tucks his boner into his waistband and waits for Y/N in the other room.

When meets him there, she kicks her yoga ball into the corner and gives Matt a big hug before setting up their pink and blue yoga mats. She’s so happy to be spending the day relaxing and playing around with him. Her ponytail whips around behind her as she spins to face Matt. “Did you know it’s actually recommended that you do yoga or stretch after long walks? The walk wasn’t meant to be long, but how lucky it is that my plan works out.” She’s speaking extremely quickly due to her excitement. She pauses for a breath but begins talking again before Matt can respond. “Are you ready?” she asks expectantly.

“Of course, My love. Your plan is perfect.”

They stand on their respective mats, and Y/N realizes that Matt has probably never done yoga in his life. “Let me show you five poses you need to know before we start.” He takes a deep breath and prepares for a face full of outstretched booty, but to his surprise, she sits down crisscrossed. “We’re gonna start off with the Sukhasana. Just sit down, touch your pointer fingers to your thumbs, and close your eyes.”

“Seems easy enough,” He says and patiently watches as she changes pose.

“Then we’re gonna transition into the Adho Mukha Svanasana. Just get on your hands and knees,” she demonstrates as she talks. “Place your hands down in front of you, shoulder-width apart. Then walk your legs back so your hands are under your shoulders, and your knees are under your hips.”

“That’s a lot of words to explain what I believe is the very simple-looking downward-facing dog.” Yup. This is exactly what he expected. It’s awful and stressful, but it’s also absolutely fucking glorious. Her booty is a piece of art crafted specifically for him by the hands of God. He tears his eyes away and looks at her face as she once again, changes her pose.

“Oh, shut up. I’m trying to sound like a yoga professional,” she says with a small chuckle. “Anyway, the next pose is the pigeon pose.”

“Yeah, super fancy and professional.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes.

“Moving on!” she says, letting out an exasperated breath, “From the Adho Mukha Svanasana position, you’re gonna lift your left leg up while keeping your other leg straight and your foot arched.”

“Jesus Christ,” Matt whispers loudly. The pose essentially looks like she’s throwing it back on the floor. Her bottom is round and cute, and all he wants to do is reach out and squeeze it. That’s a lie, actually. He wants to smack it. Hard, very fucking hard. He wants to grope her fat, meaty thighs and worship her body. She’s talking, but he can’t hear her. He’s in a trance, and he needs to do something about it. “I’m sorry, Sweetness. I really am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Y/N gets up and looks at his face, very concerned. “What’s wrong, Baby?”

He still hasn’t looked up at her face. “It’s your ass.” He licks his lips. “I have to fuck it.”

Y/N moves so that she’s directly in front of him and grabs him by his jaw to make him look at her. She whispers in his ear, “I know.” Matt has been lusting after her all day. There was no possibility that she wouldn’t notice. "Time to destroy my root chakra."

“Fuck yes!” He pulls her into a rough, toothy kiss. His lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against hers. His hand reaches up to massage her breast, and she moans into his mouth. She needs him. Needs to see more of him. Y/N tugs at the hem of his shirt. Matt takes the hint, breaks the kiss, and removes it. She puts her hands on his chest and rubs them down his abdomen. He’s so beautiful.

In one swift motion, he wipes her hands away. She whimpers and gives him a pathetic, needy look. “I know you want to touch me, Baby. I know.” He says as he makes his way over to get the yoga ball. “But right now, I need you to bend over this ball and show me that pretty, pretty ass of yours.”

Y/N does as she’s told. She loves it when Matt bosses her around. He pulls at her pants aggressively, and she doesn’t understand what he’s trying to do. Then she hears a tearing sound and feels the cold air on her bare bottom. “You just ripped my favorite yoga pants!”

“Quiet!” He barks. “I’ll get you new ones.” He says as he forces her panties down around her knees. His hands part her cheeks, and he can’t believe what he sees. He has been lusting after this woman all fucking day, thinking he was being a pervert. Little did he know that Y/N had her butt plug in the whole time. He takes a closer look. It’s not her favorite Hello Kitty one, but the one with the blue jewel on the end. Matt’s eyes widened; it’s their second biggest one. Y/N anticipated this, and she always comes prepared.

He kneads both of her cheeks as he asks, “Oh, Sweet girl, did you plan this? Was this part of your little self-care day? Did you need to be a little butt slut for me to feel complete?”

“I do.” She whines. “Last night, I got so horny thinking about you playing with my ass.”

“I can tell, Sweetheart. You used the big blue one. We’ve never even touched that one before. Were you training your ass for me?” He sits on his knees behind her so his face is level with her rear. Matt takes his time biting and kissing her ass. She lets out a hiss when he starts to play with the plug, pulling it out only to put it back in again. Every little movement has her gasping. He keeps going until she’s too loose for the stretch. He slaps her on the ass with so much force he leaves a handprint, and she lets out a wail.

“I know we haven’t done it before, but do you want to take my cock?” he asks.

“I want to try,” she says in a shaky voice.

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I swear.”

“I promise I’ll be gentle, but first,” He shoves his pants and boxers down and takes his cock in his hand as he walks around to Y/N’s front. “I need you to lube up my cock. Can you do that for me, Baby?”

“Mhmm, I can.” She replies eagerly and opens wide.

Her mouth is wet and warm around his cock. He holds her hands behind her back so she has to deep-throat him to reach his base. The dirty, sloppy sounds coming from his thrusts in and out of her throat are music to his ears. He needs to hear more. He grabs her by the ponytail and fucks her face harder. He wants to hear her choke and gag. She doesn’t mind it. She’s just happy to be of service. Her mouth is so fucking perfect, but he needs to stop before he cums. He pulls out, and she gasps for air. “You okay? Catch your breath, Baby.” He gives Y/N time to orient herself.

“I’m okay.” She gives him a big smile. Only sluts smile like that after choking on cock.

“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me, and I'll stop.”

Y/N nods her head, and Matt takes his spot behind her. He pulls the butt plug out very carefully and sets it aside. Her pussy is so wet and leaking, but he ignores it entirely, except to say, “You’re dripping down your thighs, My love.” he smiles to himself as he taps his cock on her ass. “You’re soaking your new exercise ball,” he says as he slowly pushes his tip in. When he finally pushes in past his tip, it burns and hurts, but she loves the sensation. She keeps thinking that it can’t get any longer, but it just keeps going, and the stretch burns until, eventually, he gives her all of him. Her asshole clenches hard, and it feels so fucking amazing, but then it’s burning and hurting right at the entrance, and she whimpers as he pulls himself out halfway. He’s going so slow, and he wants to speed up so badly. Her asshole feels so much better than he imagined it would. He knew she would be tight, but he didn’t know how deep she could take him. She can’t fit him all the way in when he fucks her pussy. It feels so nice to be able to give her everything he’s got.

“You can go faster now.”

“Oh, yes.” he bites his lip and speeds up to a respectable pace.

“No, faster. I need it faster,” she says desperately. He picks up the pace, and finally, he starts to feel like he’s properly fucking her. She’s moaning and whining because it feels so bad and so good at the same time. It’s a very confusing sensation, but all she knows is she wants to cum so badly. Usually, Matt likes to make Y/N cum first, but he doesn’t know if anal will make her cum, and he just can’t resist cumming in her ass. He stands her up so she’s up against his chest and reaches in front of her to rub her clit. This is what she needs, what she’s been missing. He loves the sounds she’s making. He doesn’t even notice he’s been drilling into her faster and faster. Y/N is letting out loud yelps with every thrust. If anyone overheard them, they would think she was in agony.

“I’m gonna cum, Baby. I want you to try to cum with me. Can you do that?” he says, breathing heavily.

“I can try.”

“What do you need, Love? How can I help you cum?”

“Please pull my hair.” His hands are around her ponytail before she can even get all the words out. He pulls so hard she’s forced to look up at the ceiling.

“Like that?”

Her eyes are rolling to the back of her head. “Fuck, yes! Just like that! I’m gonna cum!”

Matt puts more pressure on her clit and feels her cumming. It feels different from when he’s in her pussy. The thought of having had every one of her holes pushes him to the edge, and he releases himself into her asshole.

Y/N’s knees buckle, and she collapses onto the exercise ball and pants. He wants to ask her if she’s alright, but he’s distracted watching his cum leak out of her ass. “Fuck,” he leans over to pick he up bridal style. “Let's get you into a bath, okay?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but that’s actually next on the list.”

“Perfectly planned, My love.”

Masterlist

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potatoplace · 3 months ago

Text

Bloom

Elain x Reader

kinktober day 4 | sex pollen, outdoor sex, dub con

kinktober masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend Elain wants to visit the first just outside of Velaris to sketch plants in their natural habitats, but her mate Lucien wants her to have someone else with her, in case anything dangerous comes nearby. You accompany her, making a day out of your time together. One of the plants she finds has a rather unexpected effect.

Warnings: dub con because it's sex pollen, kind of cheating but it's not really a choice, smut

Words: ~1.9k

Author's Note: this one isn't as long as I wanted it to be, but it's enough that I'm happy with it. I just really wanted to get something out for tonight! I hope you guys like this, there will be a second part later in the month featuring Lucien too ooooo~ enjoy!

18+ only pls

🤍🩷🤍🩷🤍

A knock on your front door drew you away from your book, and when you opened it you were delighted to see your friend, Elain.

"Elain, it's nice to see you! Come in," you said cheerily, stepping aside and letting her through the doorway. You closed the door behind you and followed Elain into your sitting room, where your book on magical theory was spread wide open.

"Good morning, Y/N, I was wondering if you'd like to walk in the forest with me? I want to go and sketch plants in their wild habitat, but Lucien doesn't want me to go into the forest alone..." Elain trailed off, making puppy dog eyes at you.

"I'd love to, 'Lain! Just let me get changed and pack some food for us, I'll meet you at your house in half an hour, if that works for you."

Elain beamed at you. "That works perfectly! I'll see you in a bit, Y/N." She left your house a moment later, and you turned to your kitchen.

Knowing Elain, the two of you would be out for most of the day. She tended to get lost in what she was doing, especially if it had to do with plants.

You packed your knapsack full of goodies- some berries, carrot sticks, jerky, and a croissant for each of you. You also made sure to tuck two waterskins inside.

Soon you were outside of Elain’s door, fist raised to knock when it swung inwards, revealing Elain, a satchel hung over her shoulder.

“Let’s go!” Elain said brightly, locking the door behind her. The two of you meandered through the streets of Velaris, making your way to the edge of the wards of the city. In a few minutes, you passed through the wards, the silky feel of magic slipping off of your body marking the spot.

The two of you chatted about random things as you walked, you told her of your most recent class with young fae, and how impatient they were with attempting to summon their magic. Elain talked about Lucien, and how protective he was becoming lately.

“It would bother me, if I didn’t find it so sweet,” Elain said dreamily, and you smiled.

“It’s nice to have someone looking out for you all the time, isn’t it?”

She nodded in agreement. “It really is, he just wants me to be safe-” Elain gasped. “Look at that! What pretty flowers!” She exclaimed, leading you by the hand to the edge of a small pond, and pointed at the bright pink flowers, growing on top of the water, leaves spread underneath them. “I haven’t seen it in any of my books of Night Court flora, I wonder what it’s called?”

“Hmm… I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before,” you murmured, staring hard at the flowers while you wracked your brain. “Or it’s just pretty enough that I feel like I’ve seen it before.”

Elain had already sat down and was pulling a notebook out of her bag, along with a quill and pot of ink.

“Sketching this one?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Mhm. I’d also like to take a sample home, so I can see more of its characteristics up close.”

You nodded, though Elain’s eyes were either glued to the page in front of her or the flowers floating on the water. You joined her on the ground, pleasantly surprised at how soft it was from the thick carpeting of moss underneath you.

Your knapsack followed next, placed on the ground to your left. Laying down, you settled in to watch the trees shifting above you, their leaves swirling in the gentle breeze.

A time later, you weren’t sure how long, Elain gently poked you awake, her fingers meeting your side. You sat up slowly and yawned, then stretched your arms out. “All done?” You asked, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes, all but the sample,” Elain replied, her eyes meeting yours.

Those damn puppy dog eyes.

“You want me to go and grab one for you, don’t you?”

Elain smiled sheepishly and nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind, please.”

You shook your head in amusement. As though you would say no to her, when she still had some struggles with being in water. “Since you said please, I’ll do it for you.”

“Thank you so much!” Elain exclaimed, squeezing your arm gently and smiling at you.

“You owe me a coffee when we get home,” you said as you undid your laces and pulled your shoes off of your feet, then stood from your spot on the mossy ground. You undid the buttons on the back of your dress and let it fall off of your body, pooling at your feet.

When you dipped your toes into the pond, you were pleasantly surprised to find it a mild temperature- most waters in the Night Court were frigid year round, so this was a welcome change. You waded into the water, hesitating for a moment when it hit your waist.

“How’s the water?” Elain called out from the shore as your shoulders went under the surface of the water.

“Lovely!” You replied as you started to swim, making your way for the blooms in the middle of the water.

One was in your hand soon enough, plucked from its leaves. You did your best to keep it above water as you swim back to Elain. Once you were able to stand, you inspected the flower, mesmerized by the intricate swirls of a lighter shade of pink covering the petals. You took a small sniff of the flower, and stopped in your tracks.

It smelled amazing.

“‘Lain you have to smell this, mother above it’s heavenly!” You squealed, rushing through the water to reach her. You offered the bloom to her, which she took readily and lifted it to her nose, sighing happily at the scent.

“That smells so good!” Elain exclaimed, but you weren’t paying attention to what she was saying.

Because your body was on fire.

Desire had started licking its way from your core outwards, overtaking your senses within seconds of handing the flower over.

Your eyes locked onto Elain’s chest, so beautiful and soft and ready to-

Stop. She’s your friend.

You shut your eyes for a moment before they snapped open once more at the change in Elain’s scent, now mixed with desire.

Your eyes locked with hers for a moment before her brown orbs drifted lower… To your own chest, lingering there until a whine escaped your lips, drawing her gaze back to yours.

Your lips met a moment later, hers so plush and soft against yours you thought you could die from the feel of them. Elain’s hands were all over you, taking off your bra and tossing it to the side, her hands squeezing your breasts firmly. You broke away a moment later when her fingers pinched your nipples, a gasp tearing from your lips.

Your hands flew to the back of Elain’s dress, unbuttoning as many as you could before you started tugging the dress off her shoulders, revealing her pert breasts- bare already. The two of you were on each other again, tongues warring as you pushed her backwards, crawling on top of her where she was sprawled on the soft, mossy ground.

“Y/N,” she moaned as you separated, her hands looping over your shoulders. “Please…”

You could tell what she needed, just from her scent alone, and wasted no time in slinking down. You tugged her panties down quickly, your eyes locking on your prize.

Elain’s glistening pussy, so pink and pretty and all for you.

You positioned yourself between her thighs on your stomach, your arms wrapping underneath her thighs and keeping her spread wide.

The first lick was heaven, and the second even better, the sweet, honeyed taste of Elain’s arousal coating your tongue. You licked her clean before spreading her lips and tasting straight from the source, fucking your tongue into her hole as Elain’s hands grabbed your hair. She gently tugged you up so that your lips were hovering over her swollen clit. Your eyes met hers when you licked her bud the first time, a grin crossing your lips when her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she gasped softly.

Her heavy breaths were music to your ears, soft whines cutting through the haze of your thoughts and helping you to focus on feasting on the female below you.

Your hips were moving of their own accord, trying to find any friction to appease the aching heat between your own thighs. The urge to snake a hand between them was strong, but a particularly loud moan from Elain had your hand slipping out from underneath her and up instead, ghosting over the skin of her inner thigh before meeting her center, one finger sliding inside of her with ease.

Elain’s hips lifted off the ground a moment before settling back down, grinding into your finger. Her soft moan and hand pushing your head down had you wrapping your lips around her clit as you pushed a second finger inside, delighting in Elain’s breathy moans.

You pumped your fingers in and out, curling them into the spot that made Elain moan loudest as you sucked on her clit, moving faster when her thighs clamped down on your head, and a gentle scrape of your teeth was what pushed her over the edge, screaming out her climax into the forest air.

Her legs were shaking as you continued to work her, prolonging her pleasure until they fell to the side and her hands stopped pulling you closer and instead pushing you back slightly.

Your own hips were still rocking into the air, searching for friction that you couldn’t find in your current position. You rested your head on her right thigh, and your gaze slipped up Elain’s body, cataloguing the flush across her chest and the slight gleam of sweat on her skin before meeting her chocolate eyes. You bit your lip at the look in her eye, the hunger still burning within her.

“Y/N…” Elain said softly.

“Mm?”

“Lay back, love.” Elain’s voice was low, heady with desire as her hands pushed your shoulders gently, your body putty in her hands.

Her touch was like cool water over your skin, relieving the heat that had been building for so long now. You were laying on your back with Elain hovering between your thighs, her eyes locked with yours.

“‘Lain, please,” you begged, canting your hips up.

“Since you said please,” Elain said breathlessly, lowering her mouth to your pussy and keeping her eyes level with yours.

The first brush of her tongue against you was amazing, flashes of ice filling your veins, but the moment she had pulled away heat rushed back, worse than before, only abating with Elain’s touch.

“Fuck, ‘Lain,” you groaned, hands pawing at her shoulders. “Feels so good…”

Elain pulled away for a moment, saying “I know, love, just hang in… it feels a little better once you finish.”

You groaned at the thought, tugging her closer and she giggled in response.

“Be good, okay?” She asked, peering up at you from her lashes, and you nodded your head.

You could do that. You could be good, to keep Elain’s mouth on you.

You will be good for her.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff

#bloom #elain x reader #elain x reader smut #elucien #elain #elain archeron #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #sex pollen #kinktober '24 #kinktober 2024 #acotar kinktober #kinktober #tato writes

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microtyalm13 · 9 months ago

Note

How would your ocs react to a partner whos very vocal and loud in bed, like every moment they can't go without spouting some type of praise. . . ask, totally not based on a chat im having - 🐠🎩

mmmhehehhe... < З I LIKE THIS QUESTION DEAR FISH ANON. okaaaayyy lessgooo.... also feel free to send me more questions like this one, it was fun to write for everyone <3 deity, naga, monster under the bed, kikimora, fallen god, mothman x reader. derzena x fem!reader, the rest is gender-neutral. there could be mistakes and im npt s orrty

gavriil. — the louder you are the better, honestly. gavriil here is a provider, he cares about your pleasure more than his own, so there's nothing more rewarding than to hear your voice break so deliciously. sex with him is a praising galore... loves receiving it too! he's very talkative and mostly breathes heavily or hums in amusement/delight. if you don't want to make noise on principle, that's a whole different story. will take it as a challenge. will fuck the noises out of you. breaking your indifferent facade until you're nothing but a drooling, whining mess always makes him so smug and proud.

xiaolong. — prefers it if you're at least somewhat vocal because he want to hear how good he makes you feel, so you being so unashamed is perfect for him. loves cutting off your never-ending stream of sweet words and whimpers by kissing you. will remind you to keep it down sometimes though, because "you don't want the whole inn to hear your pretty moans now, do you? they're reserved for my ears only, isn't that right, dear? mmhm, that's it". can't get enough of how lovely your voice sounds when you call out his name. will probably tease you about that later...

taisya\tasechka. — when he's balls deep inside of you, he would absolutely not care. he won't even hear you probably, driven blindly by his instincts and desires. that's why when you want him to stop or give you a second for whatever reason, you need to show it with your body language. give him a pat, a punch (he won't mind), a squeeze. he pays much more attention to how your body moves and shudders underneath him, how your breathing patterns change. values your physical participation more than anything else. this guy is also pretty loud himself, though his noises are not very... pleasant on the ears and sometimes his voice morphs in funny ways, giving that uncanny edge to his low whines and growls.

derzena. — she will be... a bit surprised. she didn't have many lovers, and most of them were pretty quiet and/or shy in her presence (no wonder, bc she has a very... intimidating stare). at first she will think she did something wrong, or, heavens forbid, hurt you. derzena is a very careful woman, mainly because she's very aware of her sizes and strength. but once you reassure her and tell her that you're just very vocal in bed, she'll except it and will move on. she'll learn to love it very quickly, silently relishing in your gasps and loud pleas. she might lose herself for a good while between your legs, eating you out for hours and pushing her thick, smooth tongue deeper into your pussy to see if she can make you even louder.

veniamin. — oh he is so mean. likes it when you're loud just because he gets to shut you up. a hand clasped tightly over your mouth or pushing your face into the pillow, he doesn't care as long as you're keeping up the volume and writhing under him. when he's feeling gracious enough he'll let you ride him and babble all you want. until then, he'll keep calling you a desperate little thing, mocking the noises you make <З despite that, he also loves it when you talk back or insult him in return. it's the "missionary, so we can keep arguing" for him. smug fucker wants nothing more than to rile you up and then make you whine in disappointment by ruining your orgasm... for the fourth time in a row.

livy. — he hasn't had much experience with humans before, so he thinks it's perfectly normal for you to express yourself the way that you do. livy thinks it's very pretty actually, and won't stop you, because no one will hear you in the middle of the forest, where his cave resides. except for him, of course <з lets out happy chirps and clicks in return, or hisses sweetly when your little hole squeezes him so tightly. will ask how you feel very frequently, seeking your approval. might get too excited and get a bit rough, fucking you into the ground, trying to stuff you full of his cock despite you being so much smaller in comparison to him.

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s1ater · 1 year ago

Text

cherry pie.

pairings. louis partridge x fem!reader

summary. reader never would have thought about getting high until she seems to have lost all her morals in one night with a boy she had never met before.

warnings. swearing, underage drinking and smoking

ricky rocks. YALL PLEASEEE bare with me. you can probably tell this is an older story because of the format, but just disregard the first half, i know it’s the lower end of my writing. it kinda gets better 😬 (edit: this story is so mid, i’m just trying to clear my drafts)

the room danced with colors, so many colors and shades you seemed to have never seen before. unfamiliar with their cause and purpose, unsure why you couldn’t touch them; it frightened you with the way they moved around, the way they twirled around your head like little ballerinas.

you swallowed, dropping your head back against the grungy brown couch sat in the corner of one of the back rooms of connor’s house, a boy you found yourself calling on day after day for the past two months for fun, and by fun you meant sex.

but tonight, you hadn’t seen the boy for what you could count as hours. there were other things on his mind rather than a high off their ass you. other pretty girls with less clothing on their bodies and longer hair that was paid more attention to than your own.

you couldn’t care less at that point in time as you felt so deep in a haze, nothing could pull your attention. nothing, until the seat next to you sunk in from the pressure of bodyweight and another high body, seeing the same things you were seeing, feeling the same things you were feeling.

he just had it more under control.

“you going to stare at the ceiling all day, love?”

you rolled your head to meet the eyes of a crazed blonde with matching brown eyes. delight swirled in his irises while he looked at you with also dazed eyes, almost ceased shut from swelling of the high. you looked amazed right back at him despite sober you would have been disturbed, never seeing a person so out of their mind.

“who are you?” you stared at him, shocked.

“your new boyfriend,” he wiggled his eyebrows, jumping and readjusting himself up against you, his arm now slinging up and over you shoulders. a new kind of energy swelling through his chest, “i say we go on a date.”

he stared in front of him focused full hearty, as if visualizing something at that moment. you squinted, looking to where he was looking as if trying to see what he was seeing, but not enough weed could put you on his level.

“i say, we leave right now, get some pie, maybe some coke. whatever you like sweetheart, i’ll give it to ya.” “I think your sweetheart wants some space, jake,” your eyes looked from the boy who sat next to you, jake, to the boy who now stood before the two of you, an unimpressed look on his face. his arm reached out to jake, practically yanking him from your side. “alright pal, let’s go for a walk.”

you watched jake stumble into him, “but louis, she’s pretty.”

louis glanced back over his shoulder as he begun to pull jake away from the couch and toward the door, now really coming to your attention. his eyes raked you up and down before smirking a little bit, nodding to himself, “sure man, she is.”

he begun to walk away with jake wrapped around his shoulder before you got up fast almost tripping over your feet, not wanting them to go, “wait, i want a pie.”

he looked back at you and your disoriented self. your shoulders were slung low, making you smaller than you actually were. your hair was all staticky, hanging above your head like a crown, and your eyes; dilated and filled with innocence.

he smirked, looking you up one more time before nodding you over, cuing you to follow after him, his arm still holding jake to his toes.

the boy’s car was blue. louis’ car was blue. it was one of those old, nice, restored cars that must have been worth thousands. the interior had light brown leather seating that made noise every time you shifted and readjusted yourself due to the old springs lying beneath. it made you giggle as you sat next to him in the front seat, jake lying in the back due to him not being just high, but rather cross faded. louis had apparently found him completely plastered out of his mind once he had first arrived at the party, leading him to hand jake a blunt to finalize his out-this-world experience. it wasn’t smart, but it kept louis entertained to say the least.

louis had glanced at you multiple times as he drove through the silent streets. he seemed eager or maybe even a little irritated as he watched you bounce around, lacking the ability to sit still as your eyes darted everywhere, from street lights to stop signs to anything that’d fully occupied your vision.

“have you ever been high before?” he asked, stopped at a stop light with red lights shading upon both your faces.

“nope,” your eyes wandered across the ceiling of his car. you ran your fingers along the soft carpeted interior—strange, but very stimulating and soft—making you feel all fuzzy inside of satisfaction. “louis, i love you car.”

he chuckles lowly, directing his eyes back to the road, “a lot of people do,” his lips were turned upwards into a slight smirk. it made the fuzzy feeling in your stomach turn warm as there was something very satisfying about just the way he looked. “we’re here.”

your eyes flick to the front of you where your visions bursts with neon lights beaming from the large “diner” sign pinned against the small vintage looking building. you're quick to slip out of the car to the euphoric sight.

“y/n!"

you stopped in your tracks at the sound of your name, glancing over your shoulder where your eyes immediately find a group of boys congregating together with one single boy appointed to attention to you.

louis.

"hold on. give me a minute, guys," you watch louis from five feet away, brush his friends off despite the yearning looks of amusement on all of their faces, looking between the both of you. he’s far from bothered or just doesn’t notice; brushing them off before meeting you to where you stood.

it was a wednesday after school. the sweet sound of louis’ voice and sight of his captivating face was the last thing you thought you’d come across. it must’ve been a mutual feeling with the way he looked you up and down, all winded looking.

"you're a hard person to find."

"you've been looking for me?"

"of course," he has a cigarette in his mouth.

"I almost didn't think you were real."

"of course i'm real, sweetheart," he grins harder at you. "that fucked up, were you?"

you snort. if not being able to remember half of what took place that night counted for being fucked up, you took the trophy.

"well, alright. i'll take that as you had a pretty good night."

"one of the best."

“good,” he grins, “that’s a rare occasion for girls like you.”

“girls like me?” you scoff, arching a brow. his sentence could easily be something taken for offence, but the lighthearted tone to his voice only proved he was looking to mess with you.

“yes,” he laughs with you. “usually drinking is the only thing you’d catch a teenage girl doing for non-sober purposes.”

you nod, agreeing, because he wasn’t wrong, “i’ve had a fair amount of experience with alcohol and let me just say, i’ll be steering clear of that for a while.”

“ah,” he tips forward on his feet in amusement. “i could’ve guessed you’re a wild one with your liquor, y/l/n. make some questionable choices.”

you feel your face heat up in thought, “i won’t say you’re wrong.”

louis lets out a small huff of laughter, before pausing all movement. he stares at you for a moment with narrow brows, as if trying his best to read you, “you ever wanna smoke with me, just let me know, alright?” he patted your back before suddenly walking past and away from you. your back was to him now but you could hear pat pat pat of his feet in the grass.

you frown, your eyes finding the cracks of the sidewalk as you think of how brief and unusual that was. you feel a large hole in your chest of unfulfillment.

“louis, wait,” you shifted around rather quickly as a reality hit you, but you didn’t make any moves to chase after him. he turned as well as if waiting for it. “you uh, you didn’t tell connor i was with you guys, did you?”

yikes.

that’s not what he wanted to hear.

louis pinched the bud of his cigarette, nodding to himself, thinking contently to his answer before exhaling, a thick cloud of white swirling out into the air before your eyes. you feel dazed, still high from the days before, filled with such naïve joy and lost thoughts of things you couldn’t remember now.

he threw his cigarette on the ground, eyes meeting yours again, only they were hard now and filled with no light heartedness like all times before. and his voice wasn’t soft or full of amusement either but dry as he stared you dead in the eyes, “why, he your boyfriend?”

your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your eyes not meeting his for a while until after you thought about your answer. and it was an easy answer, no, but it was never something you’d ever consider a question.

“no, no he’s not.”

“you sure about that?”

“not my type,” you smile slightly, examining louis’ pale cheekbones and facial features, the cold of the weather turning his complexion slowly red. your eyes drag to reach his red chapped lips.

him, he was your type.

“enough of your type for you to fuck him,” he gave you a pointed look as if he had caught you in the act of something, and almost immediately your cheeks burned, like you were caught for something you knew you shouldn’t have been doing.

you didn't understand why or how he knew. louis was someone you didn't know at all and what you and connor did was something you didn't tell anyone.

"you're surprised?"

"yes."

"why do you care what he knows, let alone fuck him?" he doesn't say anything more on how he knows like you hoped he would. "if he's not your type?"

you bite into your bottom lip, wincing because you didn't know the answer to it, "I don't."

"but you do," he slightly smiles but it's only out of annoyance as his voice catches up to cut you off on your lie. "I think you do, y/n. and you just don't want him to know we kissed."

"your mouth tastes like cherry."

"so does yours."

fuck.

"no, louis..." you wince, immediately regretting stopping him. "that's not what I meant. he doesn't mean anything to me."

he scoffs, "funny."

he doesn't believe you. not even close.

"you know he has label on you."

"a what?" you frown immediately, taking a step forward out of instinct.

“i’m a fool to think you’d ever stop liking him,” he holds his face, running his fingers along the sharp lines of his jawbone as he thinks about his idiotic hope that’d you so fastly fall for him as you did with connor. “foolish to think you’d drop him over one night.”

you’re even more confused now, “it was one night, louis.”

“you act like there isn’t the possibility that i’ve known you even before that night, y/n,” he has a smile that comes on his face but it isn’t something genuine. it’s annoyed. “your jerkoff of a boyfriend isn’t as secretive about you as you think.”

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

he scoffs, “you keep saying that.”

“because it’s true.”

“do you know what he says about you?”

“obviously not, louis,” four steps forward, four steps closer. “you keep speaking of ‘labels’ and whatever, but why don’t you just say it. what does he say about me that is so crazy?”

he didn’t expect the sudden brief and assertiveness you pull with your movement and words. it knocks him into a slight revelation as all he can do is stare at you and breathing, memorizing this side of you.

“did he say i was a whore?” that was the only possible thing that you could think of at that moment that could be so bad. “he tell you i was a slut?”

it’s silent. you watch him think and the way he unintentionally avoids your hard stare with the thought process.

“ask him yourself.”

“has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes.”

you feel your face burn upon the comment. everything in your body felt as if was about to burst upon the simple company of louis. even though it had to of been hours since connor’s house, and the diner, and even dropping jake off at his own home, you still felt out of your mind in the best way possible. all of your sense were still high, but your vision was fuzzy and you felt lag in your movement.

how were you still high?

“you have,” you felt yourself giggle, to which he smiles with a tip of his head, watching you.

“cute,” his fingers rubbed against his mouth in thought before reaching to you. you felt yourself inhale sharply at his sudden movement and hold your breath once they reached their destination; raking through your hair. “how does he do that to you?”

“what?”

“nothing,” he shook his head, still twisting his fingers through soft strands of your hair. you feel yourself relax, watching him and the way he seemed so focused on just you. “you’re just very pretty, y/n.”

you feel your eyes slightly widen, but his face doesn’t shift at all. he’s calm, while you feel your entire body burst once more into heat. you’re itching to move, you can’t just sit still in that burning warmth beneath his stare. you feel yourself move, leaning forward on your knees so your lips meet louis’.

louis smiles against the pressure of your lips against his--he almost forgets to kiss you back because of it.

almost.

his hands rack up and down the front of your body, lightly pressing into the hold he had around your rib cage, as if willing to crush you beneath his grasp as long as that meant you wouldn’t leave. this contact isn’t enough even for you. you want to feel him all over and the heavy hands holding your body isn’t enough.

you’re on his lap now, one of your hands holding the top of his shoulder while the other claps his cheek. louis feels as if his own body is about to burst beneath you... this is all he has wanted, for a while, and now that he’s got it, he feels it’ll destroy him. you’re ignorant to his feelings, but you feel just as feverish with your heart thump-thumping within your chest, as if speaking to his.

“your mouth tastes like cherry,” your chest is heaving up and down as you pull away, your wide stare boring into his own eyes with something of delirium.

he’s smiling wide, tipping his head back against his seat to see your face better, “so does yours.”

now you smile, “i like you louis.”

he almost groans, rolling his head side to side at the sound of those precious words, “you’re killing me,” he pulls the sentence straight out of his mouth like it was sarcastic, but he meant it, “say it again,” he wanted it.

“i like you,” you repeat, this time his hand is on your cheek. “please kiss me.”

oh, jeez.

he stares, breathless, “okay.”

***

it was a week after your fallout with louis and you couldn’t think about anything other than that. you felt a sudden emptiness and need for something that you barely even had; louis.

every little micro interaction you had with him ran through your mind like a record, over and over till you felt you were going to throw yourself off a cliff. and it wasn’t just the connor comment--which was something you really, really couldn’t stop thinking about--but the seemingly quick liking he had taken to you.

it had caught you off guard, but the more you thought about it, the more curious you became as to the whole thing; which was what led you here; connor’s house, on a friday night where he was once again throwing.

“what have you been saying about me?” you stood in front of him, connor, your vision narrowed as you stared at him, examining him as if his whole existence was strange.

“what?” his confusion was genuine as this question was rather abrupt and you made no attempt to make introductions.

“you know louis partridge?”

connor looks between you and the people he currently stood with, confusion still reeking his features, “yes..?”

“what have you been telling him about me?”

“you want to talk about this somewhere else?”

“i want a straight answer,” you feel his hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you away from his crowd without an answer from you.

“which i can give you if you weren’t so vague... why are you talking to partridge?”

“you got a problem?”

the two of you are stopped in front of a boy; jake.

“no, man, i think we’re good,” connor pays him no mind, side stepping him fast with you still in grip, continuing to interrogate you. you ignore connor, watching jake the whole way you’re being pulled while he watches you. you feel as if the boy isn’t real, like he was someone you had made up when you were high, but there he was, staring just as shocked, but equally skeptical as you were pulled further and further from him.

“are you listening to me, y/n?”

“what?”

“i asked you what you were on about?” you’re now in an empty corner, secluded away from the rest of the party. “haven’t seen you in days and you’re on a tangent about a boy you barely know, what’s going on?”

you finally focus on him, barely processing the words he was putting in your ears, but you didn’t have to in order to hear the fake sympathy and concern.

“how do you know louis?”

he shurgs, “see him every time i throw. gotta get to know my usuals.”

“yeah, and how well have you gotten to know him?”

he shakes his head, feeling attacked, “why?”

“because i think it’s my right to know what you’ve been saying about me to him and whoever else,” the seal of your calmness breaks as you extend an arm out, ready to scold him for anything he was about to say.

his expression drops in return, knowing any attempt to make you calm and make the situation subtle was out of his hands. connor knew you well enough to know you were too far into your frustration to calm you down.

“what’re you talking about?”

but that didn’t mean he had to comply.

“your new choice in men is obviously not working out for you. even they know i’m the best you’ll ever have.”

“what?” your head drops forward, taken aback at the sudden escalation connor had taken to his approach in words. “what the fuck are you on about?”

he smirks, pushing the red solo cup he had up to his lips, glancing around before looking back down to you, “why else do you think he lied to you about whatever it is you’re asking?”

“i can’t believe this,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “pull yourself out of that goddamn lie before you make yourself look even more like a fool. what have you been saying about me?”

“i find it best you don’t lie about this one, mate. you have an audience of witnesses,” there’s a hand on your back and a voice intervening.

the two of you focus to louis who suddenly stands behind you, daring connor to push it. the boy looks confounded looking between you, louis, and the crowd of boys behind him. he doesn’t know what to do within the corner he had backed himself into.

“whatever, this is my own fucking party. i don’t need to do shit,” he shoves past all of you. you all watch him storm away, not looking back, leaving you all to yourselves in the dust.

“let’s talk,” louis says immediately the moment you look up to him, nodding off in a random direction.

you slowly nod, following him.

“i didn’t think you’d actually ask him.”

a laugh gets caught in the back of your throat, shaking your head at the ignorance as he opens the passenger door to his car for you, “yeah?”

“yeah,” he slides into his own side of the car. “but then again, what would i know about you?”

“a lot, apparently. more than i would guess,” you lean your head against the palm of your hand, staring at him carefully. “you gonna tell me what he said now?”

louis looks hesitant, not even looking at you anymore as he thinks on how to answer. he doesn’t want to answer, it’s that simple, but he owes it to you to give you something sense he was the one who told you in the first place.

“when i met connor, he talked about you a lot. a lot for someone i barely saw. it was like every party he had something new to say or nothing new at all. as long as it was you he was talking about,” he smiles to himself, thinking of all the bragging and praising he had put into you, all for connor to just... “you were like a prize to him, y/n--until you weren’t. he called you easy, but you were his. he said he could walk you like a dog because he was the only guy you thought of.”

you feel rage and annoyance fume in the base of your chest as he speaks. he can see it form in your eyes, take over any look of calmness or subtlety from before. you make a move to push yourself back and out the door but louis is quick to grab your arm, pulling you right back to him, only closer.

“hold on there, cowgirl,” your almost in his lap. “you’re better than that.”

“am i?” you’re squirming, almost pulling from the grasp his grasp if it weren’t for how warm he made you feel.

“yeah,” he’s smiling at you. “why waste any more of your time with him anyways when you could just be here with me?”

you couldn’t help but fall victim to the pulling sensation on your lips to smile at him. you feel that fuzzy feeling creep up into your stomach at his stare like the first time you were both alone in his car and suddenly all your anger at connor melts away.

“only if you offer me cherry pie.”

@aliyahsutherland @ioveisabel @multifandom-obsessed @remuslupinluvr @cryinginsanity @rebbyr @cc13723things @p-prettysour @sweeth0lland @heyitsmeimdead @ishwiya @thehuntress09 @Anushi @ss-tipton @black-rose-29 @rrosecar @thedeadlythoughts @amourtentiaa @instabull @rudypankowisdaddy @sunsetcurving @225786As @lukewearingbeanies @voiddtrinity @kiramdd @oliviasrodrighoe @s8xwz @highkeygolden @kitkat-mini @anicon_bby @itzstacie @spencybear @Msvrgs914 @whoreforsophialillis @w0nderr @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @i-love-scott-mccall @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @greengarsstuff @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @felixulvr @demigirl-with-problems @hizziestial @whoreforpsychopaths @sunsetcurve-95 @siriusspuppyy @mxsmwndr @youdontlikethatdoyoucupcake @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @xivilivix @morganaah @eichenhouseproperty @confusedchildstuff22 @alliechickens @moonlighy @ancientimes @gabeisinluv @thelaststraw3 @i44nishi @navyabhatnagar @iluvt4ylorswift @liltimmyst @falcvns @alexxavicry @grxcisxhy-wp @esposadomd

#louis partridge #louis partridge x reader #louis patridge icons #peter pan x reader #peter pan imagine #peter pan #the lost girls #enola x tewksbury #enola holmes #tewkesbury x reader #louis partridge imagine #sid vicious #millie bobby brown #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff

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curlsincriminology · 1 year ago

Text

Crush on You - Steve Harrington x Reader

A/N: Hi yeah, can you tell this was written by someone with ADHD on a plane in 30 minutes? Sure! But it's the first thing I think I've published in 5 years so you're gonna have to just deal with it! Not beta'd because again, first piece in 5 years. Also if you are lactose-intolerant be careful, this shit is CHEESY!!

@boyfriendstevie

Steve was going to maim Robin.

He swore to God right then and there, looking at you with that cute little teasing twinkle in your eye as you said, "so you've got a crush on me, huh?" that he was going to find a way to permanently silence her.

Robin had to be behind this. It had taken all of 12 hours - from him spilling his guts about his debilitating infatuation as he drove her home from work, to you sauntering through the Family Video doors - to get to this moment.

His face felt hot... was he dying? Could he actually be dying? The sound of his heart pounding in his ears made him think he might still have a few more minutes of agony to go before his body mercifully took pity on him and just... y'know. Ended it.

You, on the other hand, were thriving. You were positively giddy, unsure when the last time you had felt solid ground under your feet; you had floated on a cloud (you were sure of it) over to Family Video.

Honestly, it wasn't Robin's fault.

No one in their right mind would tell her something that they didn't want you to find out. Robin had been spilling Hawkins' secrets to you since your family had moved to town.

At first, it was protective - a welcoming to the neighbourhood that helped you to know what cliques to avoid and who was sort of cool. Then it was friendly, to make you feel more at ease that you actually weren't coming off like the idiot you thought you might be.

Now? Now it was downright… messy? Fun? No, definitely mischievous.

Why else would she have rolled up on her bike to your part-time spot, parked behind the desk at the Hawkins Public Library, with that shit-eating grin on her face claiming she had some positively delightful news to tell you?

Either way you didn't care. Because it had brought you here, still in your work getup, absolutely vibrating with the sheer force it was taking you to not be the biggest tease in the world about something that was okay, maybe a little sensitive.

Steve could see the restraint on your face anyway. He knew you wanted to tease him - you were loving this.

He was still contemplating just faking an emergency and leaving. It would have been hard with the way you were leaning over the counter, gripping the side closest to him to keep you supported as you blocked him from passing you. But maybe he could manage it if he put on a good enough show.

You were biting your lip in an attempt to not freak him out with the intensity of your grin. You really just wanted him to admit it.

Standing there, with your body basically draped over the counter, your lip worried between your teeth and your eyebrow raised, Steve thought maybe it wouldn’t be the embarrassment that killed him. Maybe it would just be from how goddamn pretty you were. He had never seen anyone more enchanting than you - he thought there were probably damn hearts in his eyes as he stared at you.

And if he thought about it, maybe you hadn't heard it from Robin... he wasn't exactly subtle when it came to you. He'd definitely tripped over himself, literally, to be the one to grab you a tape you'd requested be put on hold. More than once.

There had also been the time when you had caught him watching you as you perused the shelves, completely ignoring the increasingly frustrated attempts of Mrs Jones to try and get him to check out "Trading Places" for her.

"Steeeeeeeve." The melodic singsong of your voice was enough to bring him back to the present. And to cause him to realize he had just been staring at you, gape-mouthed, for at LEAST 15 uninterrupted seconds.

Yeah, it would be the embarrassment that killed him.

"I- I uh." You watched a muscle bob in Steve's throat as he swallowed hard, nervously running his hand through his hair. "I-"

"Are you always this articulate?" You said with a bat of your eyelashes and he groaned. You were gorgeous and funny and he used to be so much better at this. There's no way he would have fumbled this conversation back in high school.

Then again, you hadn't been at his high school.

Eyes closed he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts and quickly realised that could be interpreted as "no, I am NOT always this articulate which is to say, quite accurately, sometimes I literally can't speak when you talk to me". Steve quickly opened his eyes to stammer out... something. Jesus. He was really killing it.

You remain in your position, leaning on the counter as you wait for him to formulate a coherent thought. And no, you would not give him a reprieve. Not yet.

Because you had been hiding your crush behind teasing comments and little jokes and playful nudges since the second you laid eyes on the man in front of you. Ever the charmer, he would flirt and tease and joke back with you, tit for tat. But sometimes… you could push it, and throw him off his game. You could reduce him to a blushing sputtering mess, and you loved nothing more than to watch him try to process if you were talking a big game or would really walk the walk. You wanted to see if you could get him to finally end this game of chicken.

Steve huffed and let out a tentative laugh. His hand had found its way back to the disheveled strands on his head. "I, uh, I feel like there's no way for me to get out of this."

If Steve hadn't spent the last few months studying your every goddamn facial expression, he would have missed the little narrow you did of your eyes. Almost imperceptible, but he knew you did it when you were processing something and not quite sure where that thought process was taking you. Or what you were going to do.

It seemed like only a fraction of a second before you decided.

"What if," you began, a small almost devilish smile starting to spread across your lips, "I made it easier for you?"

You leaned closer towards Steve, and watched his eyes widen ever so slightly as he looked down at your lips. He licked his own without realising it, following your movements as you leaned closer, closer... and grabbed the sticky pad and pen he'd been doodling on before you had flounced in.

His cheeks warmed and it didn't escape your notice that there was a small flush spreading across Steve's face. Or that he absolutely wanted to kiss you.

You grinned to yourself, pulling the used sticky off and pressing it onto Steve's chest. He glanced down in confusion at the piece of paper stuck in the gap of his vest, his eyes flying back up to meet yours as you beamed. If you left your fingers splayed across his chest a second or two longer than necessary, he didn’t voice any complaints.

Pulling your hand away from Steve’s chest, you curled it over the pad in your other hand, scribbling furiously, while keeping the note’s contents hidden from Steve's curious gaze.

Pleased with yourself, you flipped the pad back towards him on the counter and slid the pen along with it, bumping his hand so that he would take over their possession. His fingers curled over yours briefly, and while you would’ve liked to have kept your hand under his a little longer, you were playing a special game and you weren’t ready for it to be over just yet.

Steve was so focused on your little smirk, and the way your eyes had crinkled when he looked down at your bottom lip, he didn't even register the note when he glanced down at it.

"You can send it along with the town crier if you want." You teasingly gestured out the window to Robin who had just pulled up in front of the store. He struggled to process it all; everything that was you and the note you had slipped across the counter, and he finally looked up again at you, you were partially to the door. A wink thrown back at him as you passed Robin.

"Hey Robs. Bye Steve." He heard a muffled “hello” and “bye” from Robin’s direction in response, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would have been to capture your lips against his with you as close as you had been. If not that, Christ, he could have at least admitted he couldn’t get you out of his head with you, there, giving him the perfect opportunity.

The chime of the door wasn't enough for him to stop staring after you. In fact, he watched you walk away until he couldn't see you anymore. He was vaguely aware of Robin speaking to him as she buzzed around him, moving things he had left “in the wrong place” and “should have put away already”. He felt her push into her personal space, boundaries long forgotten if they had ever been present at all, as she tapped at his hand.

"Uuuuh Steve? What's that?" Robin asked, her large blue eyes studying him and the object partially hidden by his large palm. He blinked slowly, eyes focusing back on the room in front of him instead of the spot where he had last seen you, turning out of the parking lot.

He could be angry with Robin later he thought, flipping the pad in his hand to read what you had written. He felt the tips of his ears go red as he finally processed the words in your slightly messy scrawl, Robin yammering about something in the background.

It was cute and it was cheesy and he was almost grateful you had left so you didn’t see the big stupid grin that spread across his face. Yeah, he had a crush on you. But you had a crush on him too.

He grabbed the pen and checked “yes”, pulling the note off the pad and shoving it deep in his pocket to get it away from Robin. He could deliver it himself.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #jasmine tries to write #curlswithcreativity

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