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#I have spoken too much you get the point by now I just feel /:
steveslevis · 1 day
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i love you, it’s ruining my life
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azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3
summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.
warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty
A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate. 
Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.
Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word. 
Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you. 
And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.
The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction. 
Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him. 
You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be. 
Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.
He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment. 
Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.
A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond. 
“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer. 
You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him. 
Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well. 
You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.
And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them. 
You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction. 
It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice. 
You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you. 
That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.
You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings. 
Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.
The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond. 
After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience. 
You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well. 
You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this. 
Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.
You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face. 
“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”
“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”
“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.” 
“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”
“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”
You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you. 
“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”
“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words. 
“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.
“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”
——————————————————————
That was almost two years ago. 
Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through. 
And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on. 
Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone. 
“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”
“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.” 
“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”
The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand. 
“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”
“I really don’t know–”
“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”
“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”
The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking. 
“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered. 
“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade. 
“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.
“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.” 
“I–I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now. 
You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond. 
“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him. 
“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”
The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died. 
Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind. 
The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.
But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs. 
So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times. 
“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in. 
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.” 
Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved. 
“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands. 
The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart. 
Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him. 
Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened. 
The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate. 
Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel. 
It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.
Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope. 
Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel. 
After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.
I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.
The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go. 
In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.
The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.
taglist: @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @impossibelle
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cameronslilypad · 2 days
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find me through my dealer - part four
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summary: you and rafe have been in the same friend group for a while now, so you could be considered close, when he finds out you have a dealer who isn't him he demands you cut them off and use him instead. you both work out an arrangement you get 'discounts' and in return do him 'favours' (but are they really favours if the both of you enjoy it a little too much?) because that's what friends are for right? friends?
part one part two part three
you wake up to your phone ringing right next you your ear, you jolted up at the sheer shock you felt.
“what.” you ask without even looking at who’s calling you, you’re not in the mood for whoever just interrupted your sleep.
“woah, no need for the tone” he says with a light hearted chuckle, it’s rafe on the other end. you should’ve fucking guessed. although why would you’ve he’d barely spoken to you recently.
“alright, sure” you groan, already fed up with his bullshit.
“come see me” he begs, only now that you’ve woken up a bit you can tell by his tone of voice, and the light husk it carries. he’s high.
“i’m good” you respond. you’re still half asleep and cant be bothered to entertain whatever he wants you for.
“c’mon baby, i’ve got something for you” baby? he was literally ignoring you yesterday, what is this shit he’s playing at? but the need you can hear in his voice is what’s convincing you.
“okay” you hang up straight away, your hangover surprisingly isn’t that bad but you’re not feeling perfect so a bit of time will be needed to leave the house.
knock knock. its only been around 25 minutes since you were on the phone with rafe and you’re already at his doorstep.
“come in” rafe lets you in, wrapping his arms around waist, head ducked down so his chin is on your shoulder, as he leads you up to his bedroom. you sit cross legged on his bed, your not quite sure what to do with yourself.
“i was doing some of this and thought it would be fun for us to do it together. only if you want” he clarifies sitting next to you and pulling out a small baggie filled with white powder. to this your mouth upturns into a slight smirk and you nod.
“you sure? i pre rolled you four joints for you if you don’t wanna do this” his eyebrows furrow as his eyes stare directly into your own. the genuine look in his eyes is making your head hurt, this was the same guy that fucked you last night practically without saying a word. you ignore that, you don’t want to ruin this time because of the past, even if it was less that 24 hours ago, maybe he wasn’t having a good day?
“you think i can’t handle it?” you tease, trying to change the mood from his caringness which is making you feel things you shouldn’t.
“oh don’t worry baby, i know you can take it” he chuckles and gets his phone out, opens the baggie and pours a small line onto the back of his phone which he passes to you.
“i’ve already crushed it so you can do it straight away” he tells you reaching behind him to get a rolled up bill from his bedside table, which he quickly passes to you. you feel the powder funnel up your nose, you quickly tilt your head up so it all stays up there. you use your finger to collect the little bit of dust still on rafes phone and rub it on your gums before passing his phone back to him. you’ve only just realized his eyes hadn’t seemed to have left you once, they’re slightly unfocused. who are you kidding, it’s probably from the lines he took before you even got there.
“i wanna try something m’kay but you need to tell me if at any point your not into it” he says gently, his touch is just as gentle as his thumb strokes your jaw.
��mhm, i can do that” you softly smile at him. in response he quickly throws his shirt off and chucks it into a corner of his room, unable to care less about where it went. he was a lot more careful when taking yours off, softly prying the fabric off your body and placing a soft kiss to your shoulder. he stood up, grabbing your wrist to stand with him but he quickly sinks to his knees in front of you pulling your bottoms down slow, unbearably slow. once you’d stepped your ankles out of them he gave your ass a quick squeeze and a chased kiss to your clothed clit before hurriedly standing up and shoving his jeans off of himself.
“right” he breathes out laying back on his bed and patting the space next to him, you comply and sit awaiting his next move. rafe pulls his boxers down slightly, to show his v line. you realize you’re starting to faintly feel the effects of the coke when he pulled the baggie back out, your confused and a bit concerned about where he just pulled it out of since he’d already taken his trousers off. him pouring a small amount of the powder in the line between his abs.
his abs, oh my days.
“here” he whispers out forcing your gaze away from his defined stomach and to his hand stretching the same rolled up bill towards you. you repeat the same actions you did merely five minutes ago, tilting your head up you see rafe looking at your, eyes dark and bottom lip pulled in between his teeth.
“one more baby” his voice is huskier now, the gravel to it makes your thighs clench a little, involuntarily. he pours the next one onto his v-line and pats his chest, which you take as your invitation to carefully straddle it, your back towards him. as you slowly lean your head down to where the perfect line of coke is rafe starts playfully snapping your thong in place whilst using the other hand to massage your ass. you have to retract your head to let out a deep breath, not risking the air blowing the powder away. once you finish the line you switch the positions of your legs and move a further down his body, so your still straddling him but your facing each other. you just sit there his hands moving up and down his sides, yours tracing the lines of his abs. it was now you were properly feeling your high, your head was feeling light and you weren’t positive that you had a nose or any teeth, but you were loving it. the moment between you and rafe lasted mere seconds but it felt like hours, not enough hours in your opinion.
“my turn” rafe finally says, his smirk so wide your surprised his face isn’t hurting. he unclips your bra and immediately puts his hands on your boobs, pinching your nipples then massaging the flesh. he lifts you off of him and lays you down on the bed. you weren’t sure what you expected but it wasn’t him pouring a line of coke directly onto your nipple, you were sure you’d never been this wet before and he hasn’t even touched you.
“best line i’ve ever done” he tells you, head now in the crook of your neck as his teeth graze your earlobe. your body shivers at this and your hips ever so slightly raise from the bed.
“hands and knees for me” rafe tells you, stroking your hair before moving from on top of you so you’re able to change your position. as soon as rafe is behind you he’s pulling your underwear to the side using his fingers to spread your wetness up to your clit. he couldn’t wait any longer, he pushes his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring out of the fabric and immediately he’s slowly pushing into you. once he’d bottomed out he let out the most ungodly groan which made you gush around him.
“you like that huh? don’t worry, i like hearing you too” rafe chuckles into your ear, having pressed his body onto yours. pulling back to his original position, starting to thrust into you with a hard steady pace that is making your body jolt forward. one of his hands moves from the bruising grip on you waist to your hair, tugging your head backwards.
“come here pretty” his other hand also moves from your waist to push slightly on your stomach, making it so your back is pressed up against his chest. his hand moved from your hair to wrap around your neck.
“fuck, just like that” you groan out breathless and leaning your head back onto his shoulder, this new position has him hitting all the right spots inside of you.
“so perfect, milking me too well. don’t know how much longer i can last” his sentence comes out a bit choppy due to the power of his thrusts, that’s not what your focused on at all. the way he’s speaking to you right now you’re wanting to mother his children.
“i’m right there, oh my god” your hips start bucking on his dick as you feel yourself cumming, riding out your orgasm when you feel rafes cum start to leak inside you.
“let me get you cleaned” he says after a few minutes, slowly pulling out of you and giving you cheek a kiss, almost too soft for you to have noticed. after he cleans you up you both redress, picking the clothes up from all parts of the floor as rafe had thrown them without any sort of care. you can still strongly feel your high and your not in the mood to get yourself home, so you sit back in his bed and turn his tv on.
this isn’t weird we’re still friends right?
thankfully rafe doesn’t think it’s weird and lays next to you. around three episodes of some random show have played and you’re ready to go home now, the high has worn off and your body has relaxed a bit. almost as if he could read your mind.
“you staying?” rafe asks, face smushed in his pillow, half asleep. you want to say yes but you can’t bring yourself to, you don’t want your feelings to intensify and make it awkward for everyone.
“no it’s okay, i’m gonna go now” you softly spoke, turning your body to get out his bed.
“m’kay i’ll see your for brunch” brunch? oh shit becca planned a brunch tomorrow..
“okay bye” as you leave his house you realize what just happened. you said no to staying at rafes, because you didn’t want your feelings to grow. you’d stayed at his house many of times, admittedly usually crashing after getting drunk, but still. his soft kiddies, his gentle touches, his presence alone. for fuck sake, you like rafe cameron.
taglist: @rafesgiirl @planetmimz @happymangosstuff @dragonslutsblog
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dreamcubed · 9 months
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i think he knows | theodore nott x reader
song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move
masterlist
"wanna see what's under that attitude."
—————————————
Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.
The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.
"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.
"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.
"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"
You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."
"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."
You sighed, unable to argue.
"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."
That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.
"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.
"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."
You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."
"It's not that hard."
"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."
"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."
"Whatever you say."
Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.
***
It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.
Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.
Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.
"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.
You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.
You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.
He raised an eyebrow at you.
Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."
His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.
Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.
Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?
***
The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.
Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.
It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.
A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.
"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"
You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.
"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."
"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."
"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."
"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.
"I mean, maybe he likes you back."
"What?"
"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."
"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"
Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."
Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"
"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."
"Easy for you to say."
***
You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.
"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.
"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."
You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.
"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.
Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.
"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.
He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.
You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?
"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.
You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?
It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.
Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.
What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.
This might not end well.
***
You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.
"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."
You had a feeling you knew what was coming.
"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"
"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."
"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"
Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.
"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."
Your breath hitched.
You used coconut shampoo.
Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.
"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"
You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.
You felt warm underneath his gaze.
He smirked.
***
You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.
The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.
"You aren't subtle."
A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."
He shrugged, "It's cute."
Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.
"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.
"No. Just quiet."
You clutched your books close to your chest.
"You're shy," he added.
You nodded.
He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.
"Hogsmeade," he said.
You hummed in surprise.
"This weekend. Me, you."
Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.
But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.
***
"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.
"I don't even know if it's a date."
"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."
You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."
"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."
You gave your best friend a small smile.
"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"
***
You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.
How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.
He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.
Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.
At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.
"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"
You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.
"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.
He shrugged.
It was frustrating.
You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."
He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.
"Nott?"
He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.
"Theo- what are you doing?"
Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.
"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.
You hummed in agreement.
"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."
Your breath hitched, "Really?"
"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."
You felt your ears heat up.
"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."
A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.
"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."
You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.
"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."
"Horrifying?"
"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."
————————————————
masterlist
written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——
6K notes · View notes
halfvalid · 8 months
Note
Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss
intertwined ribbons
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ABOUT
alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated
rating: general audiences/teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.
tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor
author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol
(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)
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“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion. 
“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?” 
“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!” 
“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.” 
You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.” 
“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.” 
“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.” 
You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman. 
You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought. 
Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.” 
“Am not.”
“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her. 
“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”
Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.” 
You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed. 
“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.” 
“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.” 
Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated. 
“I am not—”
“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.” 
You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand. 
You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—
“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?” 
“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.” 
“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.” 
You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up. 
“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.” 
With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said. 
“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.” 
You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?” 
“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe. 
The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about. 
“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.” 
You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed. 
“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.” 
You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?” 
Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.” 
“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.” 
Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.” 
You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?” 
“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.” 
“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.” 
Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.” 
The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.” 
“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room. 
You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.
A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.
“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?” 
Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door. 
“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.” 
“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!” 
“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on? 
You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled. 
Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”
You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you. 
“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.” 
You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably. 
“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor. 
You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.” 
The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?” 
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.” 
“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.” 
Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in. 
“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there. 
“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.” 
“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin. 
You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?” 
“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair. 
“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly. 
“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief. 
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed. 
“Get up. Don’t be stupid.” 
“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 
Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said. 
“Okay, so neither of us do.” 
Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”
You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.” 
“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?” 
“Uh, nothing.” 
“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?” 
It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?” 
“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.” 
“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it. 
“Well?” Zoro prompted. 
“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.” 
“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 
You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.” 
“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.” 
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t.” 
You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.” 
Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?” 
“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.” 
“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?" 
“Positive. It’s all me.” 
“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”
“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed. 
You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.
You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?” 
There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”
“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.” 
There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?” 
Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.” 
“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered. 
“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh. 
“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.” 
“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.” 
You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him. 
“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?” 
“Hm?” 
“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—” 
“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought. 
“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”
Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?” 
You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.” 
“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.” 
“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe. 
Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered. 
“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped. 
Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?” 
“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.” 
You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.” 
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.” 
You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. 
Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between. 
You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body. 
He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly. 
You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered. 
Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught. 
He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.
So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black. 
The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn. 
Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together. 
“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?” 
“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.” 
“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.” 
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…” 
“First?” you prompted. 
Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.
A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go. 
The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight. 
A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”
“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.
“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—” 
“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”
“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.” 
“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.” 
You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while. 
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass. 
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© halfvalid 2023
3K notes · View notes
e-m-ma-lmfao · 8 months
Text
Much Too Kind
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pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : astarion has found a soft spot for a girl who is much too kind for her own good, too trusting, in such a gruesome world.
warnings : astarion bites.
a/n : i haven't played baldurs gate (so i apologize for my lack of knowledge) but astarion is consuming my brain.
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“Do you honestly feel safe sleeping with him sitting this close by?”
“He’s done nothing but help us this whole time, why would I not?”
“Because he’s a vampire?” Shadowhearts face is blank, speaking as though her words shouldn’t need to be spoken, an obvious thought. She stares into you, awaiting a proper answerings, and she almost scoffs when she doesn’t get what she wants. In return you roll your eyes, continue to ready yourself to sleep. 
When you feel that you're ready to go to bed, Shadowhearts voice is unheard. She is already situated inside of her bedroll, which she had set up farther away from the fire than you liked, in a way of protecting herself from a seemingly harmless Astarion. In all fairness, you have probably been too trusting in the man. But how could you not?
He had been such a tease since the moment you met him. Because he seemed to annoy you, he never left your side. But you quickly grew fond of the pale man, and it was suddenly you who couldn’t leave his side. Astarion had no problem with this, and a weird fondness began brewing in his chest whenever he was around you. He had a burdening soft spot for you unlike anyone else. He couldn’t even bring himself to feed around you in case he scared you off, feeling an unprecedented amount of fear of losing you. The relationship you shared was teetering on a very thin line of romance and teasing gone too far. 
The two of you were an unlikely pair. Astarion was manipulative, and you knew that from watching him work, but he never used it on you (as far as you knew). He viewed you as too sweet for your own good, taking it upon himself to keep you from danger. In all honesty, you probably didn’t need him for that. Sure he helped when you were obviously being lied to and couldn’t tell but you could hold your own in battle just fine. From your point of view he was nothing but trustworthy and helpful. Shadowheart, your ever protective friend, had a hard time seeing the same thing. 
But when you made a fuss about having to sleep in your armour, unlike Shadowheart who had no problem with the matter, he had offered up a spare shirt. You weren’t sure where it had been beforehand but it was comfy, with undone strings hanging from the neckline, and it was large enough to go down to your mid thigh which was perfect. And his scent covering it was an added bonus. You had never thought much about it, but you never wore your heavy pants to sleep, being too hot inside your stuffy bed roll. 
You were usually asleep before everyone else, and the first to wake in the morning, so this never proved to be a problem. And, if you had to think about it, you were usually in a tent by yourself. But with only Shadowheart and Astarion around you didn’t see a problem. 
But when you crawled into your bedroll, at a middle distance between Astarion propped up against a log by the fire and Shadowheart sleeping farther from him, you began to see the problem. Shadowhearts words from before were dug into your brain, what if Astarion was dangerous and he did end up hurting you in your sleep just like she had said. You had never felt any fear towards the man, but her words had planted an unfamiliar distrust in your head.
You were dangerously aware of every noise around you. Unable to sleep, because of your focus on everything around you. The soft snores from Shadowhearts bedroll, and the quiet hum from a bored  Astarion playing with the fire. As long as he was by the fire, seated much too close for comfort now, you thought you’d be able to hear him coming. You think everything is fine, but being so edge you catch the smallest sounds, and you shoot up at the sound of a twig snapping. 
“My, my. Such a light sleeper my dear.” You turn towards Astarion, breath heavy, and a guilty feeling festering in your lower stomach. He’s almost exactly where he was when you first laid down. There’s a smug grin written on his face and you’re not sure why, though you don’t have the energy to question it. With sleepy eyes, you look around once more searching for anything out of the ordinary in the darkness, but you turn back to Astarion in the end. 
“I can’t sleep.” He throws another piece of wood on the fire, the light dancing across his face in pretty patterns from the dispersed light, his white shirt untied just enough to see his collarbones and the beginning of his chest. The sight alone has thrown the tenseness away from your body, and your muscles soften up, posture loosening. 
“And is there any reason in particular?” You meet his eyes again, a flurry of heat covers your cheeks, the look in his eyes telling you that you had been caught ogling him. “You seem so on edge, darling.”
He’s seated, practically the same height as you while he lays against the log, but it feels like he’s staring down at you. His fangs show as he parts his lips in a small, condescending grin. 
“I’m just not used to sleeping out in the woods s’all.” He nods, he doesn’t believe you, and you can understand why because you’ve only been camping in the wild for weeks by now. 
“Are you sure that's all? Cause I believe I heard that vile woman over there talking about a ‘bigger threat’ than whatever’s out there.” He gestures to Shadowheart and the dark, full woods around you. 
You shake your head, pout on your face, nervous that he would think differently of you if he knew what was actually going through your head. He was perceptive enough and, unbeknownst to you, you were an easy read. Of course he had heard the two of you talking, and he knew that you had not spoken ill of him, but it was so fun to tease you. And he knew you had grown nervous in his presence. 
“You’re not worried because of me are you?” Your eyes widen and you shake your head once more. There was  concern written all over his features, the crinkle in between his brows and his parted lips. To anyone else his concern would look fake, you were certain it was real. And to him, it was somewhere in between. He did feel something for you that put him in an unfortunate position, but the idea that you were scared of him sent misery through his bones.
“No of course not!” The comfy bedroll you had been laying in, shimmies down your legs as your torso tightens up again and your posture becomes much too straight for your liking. 
A soft sigh leaves his mouth, “Would you come sit over by me? You feel so far away.” His lips curve at the corners when you seem to think for a moment, but ultimately stand up. You bunch your bedroll up in your arms, not wanting to sit on the rocks. And when your eyes meet his again, he's already eyeing up your legs, you feel suddenly much too exposed. The night air nips at your skin and you hurry over to the spot beside him, throwing the bed roll on the ground and sitting on top of it. 
“Didn’t need to bring that over, silly girl. There’s a perfectly fine seat right here.” His eyes look down to his lap then back up to you, your face flush again. 
“I’m okay here,” You regret looking at him when you see his eyes plead with you, “..For now.” 
He really was cunning. You figured he was scheming. But he truly had no intention of misleading you, just wanted you close. He couldn’t help that he found it so cute how nice you were. Too nice in his opinion. Dangerous world out there, he was just trying to teach you who you could and couldn’t trust. Maybe you would get into more trouble, if you always trusted men like him.  
But no danger if you never have to think about other men. 
“Do you believe the things she says?” His eyes stared into the fire, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him, that guilty feeling was growing in your stomach. “I know you must not trust me, at least not fully.”
You stay silent, you’re almost scared to talk, in fear you offend him anymore then you already have. You pull your knees up to your chest, arms wrapping around your legs, guilt eating away at your insides. 
He looks at you now, with his eyes he traces your legs where your shirt no longer hangs enough to cover you, up to your face that wears a pout and tired eyes. “Do I scare you?” 
“No!” You sit up onto your knees, facing him fully. “No! I’m sorry Astarion, if i made you feel that way..”
He almost feels bad for a moment. You were too sweet, and while yes he had been worried for a moment, he was only teasing. 
In your moment of weakness, and putting yourself in an easy position, he grabs you to pull you onto his lap. Where he has wanted you all along. Both thighs on either side of his seated form, face much closer to his own than you ever planned on being. His shirt, adorning your body, hangs down your thighs and rustles against his legs. 
“Could you..promise?” His voice is so smooth, and his eyes look so alluring in this position, his hands planted on your hips. Your breath is caught in your throat when he asks, you aren't so sure that your answer before is entirely truthful now. He has too much control of this situation, and it is making you nervous, more nervous then before if that was even possible. 
“I..I promise. Of course, I promise!” You're in such a compromising position and you wish you had slept with pants on. It’s much too cold out on your bare skin, but being on Astarions lap is making your body much too hot.
“Very good.” His head moves closer to you, pulling your body into his and sending shivers down your spine. 
“Astarion!” Your hands find his shoulders, trying to put distance between you but his hold is strong. He has got you where he wants you and there is no way he will be letting you go. His face buries itself in your neck, breath tickling your skin and his nose leaving soft touches against you. 
“You smell..delicious.” His voice was sultry, and so suggestive. You knew what he wanted, had been waiting for the moment he would say something. He was a hungry man with an uncomfortable amount of power over you. And your neck was looking awfully inviting. You hated that he had you feeling so many things, for a man who was so obviously trying to take advantage of you. 
He may have thought you were naive but you were smart enough to know what this vampire wants from you. Even though you were debating allowing it just so he would be happy and full, it tugged at your mind that he might just be using you for this purpose.
Shadowheart may have been right about him being a threat while you slept, but right now he was just as threatening. Would it hurt when he sunk his teeth into your skin?
As if he suddenly became more conscious in his actions, he pulled away, breath heavy against you. “I’m sorry, you are just such an appetising little thing.” He places a soft kiss to your cheek, your silence beginning to fill him with the same guilt you were feeling. He wasn’t sure why. This is what he wanted, sure he had grown fond of you but this is what he needed from the beginning. But it didn’t feel right anymore, not with the way you were so pliable in his hands, allowing him to tease you just so you wouldn’t offend him. 
“Are you hungry?” Your voice, surprising him, sends his eyes straight to yours. You couldn’t possibly be considering what he thought you were. 
“Yes darling, but don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” He lets out a heavy sigh, planting more kisses on your cheek down to your jaw. His attempt to distract you almost works but you gently move your face away, pulling your hair away from your neck. 
“Could I help?” You looked at him with a warmth in your eyes, one he hadn’t seen from anyone but you for years. Your devotion to him pulled at his heart, you were so willing to help him without even knowing if it would hurt or not. 
“You would do that..for me?” His hand finds your cheek, voice sending gentle vibrations through you. You can only nod, scared that if you speak it’ll be nothing above a whisper. 
He takes your hair from your hand, holding it out of his way. A gentle kiss to your cheek. Another on your jaw. And he moves them all the way down to your neck where he intends to bite. 
‘Astarion?” 
“Yes, my dear?” He pulls away, and you can tell it pains him to by the look of disappointment on his face, lips too pouty for how tough he always tries to act.
“Is it going to hurt?”  His eyes are so soft when he looks at you, even though he wants nothing more than to sink his fangs into your flesh. 
“I’ll try to make it painless, but you can hold my hand, yeah?” You nod and intertwine your fingers with his, scared but determined to make him happy. 
He returns to his place in your neck, places a soft kiss before he sinks his teeth into you. Immediately, your fingers squeeze his own and he sends a squeeze back so you know he’s there. He almost feels bad, whimpers falling from your lips, but you taste so delectable that he can’t bring himself to. 
Astarion continues to drink, and you allow it. You only make an effort to stop him when you become dizzy, and your head becomes too heavy for you to hold on your own. Your grip on his hand loosens, and you use his other one to tap at his arm. It seems to snap him out of his trance cause he pulls away, licking his lips. 
“You taste as good as I had hoped you would.” A drowsy smile crashes against your face and your chest swells with pride, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The energy is gone from your body. You know he wouldn’t have killed you, but any longer and you wouldn’t be in any condition to fight the next day. You didn’t know if you would be as is. 
Astarion seems to notice, and he moves you to sit inside your bed roll. Your hand still holds his, and you lay on your side to face him. 
“Such a sweet thing,” he rubs your hair flat with his free hand, admiring your sleepy features in the fire light, “Sleep my dear. I’ll keep you safe.”
5K notes · View notes
saerins · 7 months
Text
𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆
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+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 2.4k | content: fluff, high school setting!, some cursing
notes: this was something requested by an anon !! i realised this prompt was also done in my other fic whole except nagi was the second lead :’) also pleaseeeee excuse me if this is ass because i haven’t written in a long time T_T but i’m working on getting back properly !! <3
summary: he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.
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“so, um, nagi, why’d you ask me out all of a sudden?”
it’s kind of an awkward situation to be in, you think, as you look around the arcade, shuffling your feet beside where nagi’s seated, trying to win some tickets from what you can only assume to be a music machine.
when he’d asked you out on a date yesterday, you didn’t think he’d take you to an arcade, of all places. (then again, nagi asking anyone out is sort of unbelievable, honestly.) if you knew sooner (or if nagi had bothered to tell you), you wouldn’t have worn such a nice dress for today.
besides, you’re not even sure why you’d agreed. call your state half-flustered or whatever, because you heard that nagi seishiro of all people does not bother with human relationships much. you’ve only ever seen him interact with mikage reo anyway—and you’d just chalked it up to him wanting it that way. nagi had never shown interest in girls or romance or that kind of shit, so cue your surprise when he asked you out yesterday, when he saw you at the bus stop.
“hey, wanna go on a date tomorrow?”
you blinked at him, utterly surprised because that was the first time that nagi had ever spoken to you.
“um, where to?” (you were still malfunctioning over the fact that he was asking you out on a date.)
nagi scratched the back of his head, and you could faintly make out reo a few ways behind him, watching on.
“hmm, not sure, i’ll text you tomorrow morning?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. “what’s your number?”
okay sure, you could’ve asked for more details, but it was hard getting nagi to respond to you at all. you’re pretty sure he was gaming, that’s why.
“oh, ‘cause reo asked me to.”
that… was not the answer you were expecting. “reo asked you to?”
nagi has a bad habit of not elaborating. you don’t really like that, because you don’t like asking questions, but you can’t help yourself now. this is too bizarre for you to let go.
“yeah, something about how he’s sick of me playing games all day long, told me to go get a date, then he’d return me my switch,” nagi mumbles, and you can’t help but think that reo’s plan may have backfired, considering how he’s on a date and still playing games.
while nagi’s grey eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, you find yourself drawn to the way he’s sucking in his cheek as he concentrates, the way his bangs fall over his eyes and how his fingers can respond so quickly to the lines on the screen.
“you’re pretty good at this,” you tell him, getting lost in how well he’s playing. the points on the screen gets so high he’s almost nearing the high score.
for a moment, nagi’s distracted by how close you are to him; your hair smells like citrus and it’s really smooth. it’s also the only time anyone other than reo has been this close and you’re not anyone so he doesn’t really see why you’re able to steal his focus from the game.
someone like you shouldn’t make him notice things that aren’t about games or himself.
but you do—and he misses the first note since the start of the game, though he recovers fairly easily.
he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re in his class and you’re very pretty (now that he’s actually looking at you). you have a really cute laugh too, he realises, right when he wins the game and probably what’s a thousand tickets, with you rejoicing happily beside him.
“oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this,” you’re jumping and giggly and nothing like how quiet you are in school and why does he feel a little giddy knowing that he’s getting to see this firsthand? this doesn’t make sense. “okay, move aside, teach me, i wanna do it too.”
nagi obliges. it’s a pain having to teach someone else compared to doing it himself, he gets to know, as you miss probably half the notes on screen even when he tries to tell you how to do it. hell, he’s not really a good teacher.
you win about 300 tickets.
“not bad for a rookie,” nagi comments as you grab your own pile and stack it in your shared basket. the neon red and blue flashes pretty against your skin. it makes you even prettier, he feels.
you raise a brow. “nagi seishiro, wanna play a bet?”
no, not really. but somehow, he can’t quite turn down a game when it’s from you.
“what’re you betting?”
you hold out the basket in front of you. “i’m gonna find a game where i can beat you.” your chest is puffed out, like you’re determined, like you really believe you can. “if i lose, you can decide my punishment.”
nagi blinks at you. you’re… weird. you make his heart beat faster than usual. it’s a little concerning. “and if you win?”
grinning, you wink at him, “let’s leave that to later.”
whatever possessed him to spend the entire day following you around the arcade and watching you fail, he doesn’t know. you’re pretty bad at everything compared to him, but it’s not really fair—he’s probably spent ten times as much of his days in the arcade than you.
have you ever even set foot in here before?
nagi observes as you try desperately to beat him in ddr. you fail, naturally. your feet coordination really isn’t that good, but it’s pretty cute how hard you’re trying. you’re still pretty even at the end of it, even when you’re sweating and some of your hair is matted against your skin. he keeps that to himself though.
throughout the entire day, nagi finds himself entertained by your persistent insistence to beat him at something. it’s funny how you’re awful at the arcade games. it’s also funny how you’re honestly trying. it’s really no use but here you are, sweating once again from shooting hoops.
your 64 versus nagi’s 154.
“wow, you’re really bad at all these games,” nagi murmurs when he sees your score. “wanna go somewhere else?”
you’re quick to open your mouth but it takes you just as quick to shut it, probably knowing you’ll never beat him. at least, not today. “fine, you win,” you say through gritted teeth. you’re a little prideful; nagi’s learning a lot about you. “what do you want?”
nagi seems to have forgotten your earlier bet. he just shrugs and tells you to choose what you want at the exchange counter.
“you don’t want anything?”
nagi looks at the prizes with such disinterest it makes you wonder what can interest a guy like him. he shakes his head, “i can get anything i want anytime anyway.”
(the underlying insinuation that coming to the arcade with him is your only chance to win prizes flies right over your head.)
but when nagi looks at your slightly disappointed face, he tries to backtrack. “i’ll let you know when i think of something i want since i won,” he says, looking away from you. “but you choose one of the prizes today.”
turns out it’s so easy to please you. just like that and that smile is back on your face.
you choose a big goddamn pink teddy bear by the way. nagi sighs as he leaves the arcade with you. it’s probably a character nagi doesn’t know. he’s judging you, but then you hug it and smile at him and he forgets what he’s thinking about.
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“i know this was only because reo asked you to, but…” you mumble after you and nagi both finished eating dinner, sitting across from each other at the ramen shop. “it was fun.”
nagi’s not sure what this is. just a customary thing where you’re showing appreciation for the time you two spent together today? you’re looking away from him though, he’s pretty sure normal customs don’t dictate that. he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to look at him when you say that.
“why’re you looking away?”
you look at him in blank shock (an expression that he doesn’t know how to process—what’s so weird about asking you that?) before you smile helplessly. “you’re very weird, nagi seishiro.”
“what do you mean?” nagi’s clueless, in that nagi seishiro way only he can be.
a few seconds of silence pass when you try to make up your mind. it’s unnerving how big and wide his eyes are, especially when they’re focused only on you and nothing else. in the end, you manage with a shake of your head.
“it’s nothing,” you decide. telling him of your possible crush on him would not do any good, you guess.
something bugs nagi; he can’t understand what it is. he just knows something feels off but it’s not like he’s ever felt this particular kind of irk—he doesn’t know what to do.
when the time comes to leave the restaurant, nagi finds himself walking the opposite way to his home because you started walking first.
somehow, his feet follows you.
it’s stupid—walking this far away from the direction of his home is troublesome. it’ll be a hassle to get home when his bus is on the other side of the long gone restaurant. why is he walking you to the train station again when he’ll just see you next week anyway? you’re in the same class.
“oh, are you gonna take the train too?”
nagi blinks at you, drawing a blank at your question. he must’ve completely zoned out. did the both of you get here in complete silence?
“no,” he answers honestly. he doesn’t elaborate. as usual.
by now, that doesn’t surprise you. instead you just nod your head, a hesitance borne in the shuffling of your feet. “well,” you drawl out, dragging the syllable, somehow hoping this wasn’t the end of the night but it is. “this was a nice one-time date,” you settle for, smiling. you’re about to just say goodbye, but you bite on your bottom lip, contemplating, before you slip his phone out of his hand and slide the screen to the side, taking a picture of the both of you together, nagi looking at the screen in surprise and you winking beside him.
when you hand it back to him, you bite your inner mouth, trying not to grin. “in case reo asks for evidence,” you offer as an excuse. you totally didn’t want to take a picture with nagi. “he better give you your game back!”
nagi gets this fleeting feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain when he sees you smiling at him. like how you remind him of the color gray. not because it’s bland but because it’s his favourite color. you remind him of spring and the cool breeze and how refreshing it feels.
“it was a nice one-time date, nagi seishiro,” you chuckle before you turn around, ready to head into the station and probably never spend such time with nagi again. you’ll probably get over the sadness of what could’ve been pretty quickly. you think.
but just before you can enter, you hear the firm steadiness in nagi’s voice. “no.”
you whip your head around, not quite sure you heard him right. “no?” you narrow your stare a little, moving out of other people’s way as they push past you into the station. “as in, you didn’t like it?”
you hope he doesn’t mean it like that.
nagi looks away, earnestly processing it. it came blurting out of him, he didn’t even know what he said until he said it. “i won the bet and what i want is… this. again. with you.”
the implications of his words slowly sink in and it has you feeling giddy. nagi, the guy who barely cares about anything nor makes the time for anyone—is he actually telling you this? is he really saying he’d take you out more?
meanwhile, nagi’s feet stay firmly planted where he is, wondering why you make him feel like this, why you make him feel like he can’t get enough. you’re just… you. before today, he could honestly say you were insignificant. but just the way you are; how you speak, your smile, your laugh and your resilience—nagi likes it, finds comfort in it, somehow.
“then,” you say as you enter the station, face giddy with the excitement of something new blossoming. “i’ll wait for more dates with you, sei.”
the way you call him that makes his heart skip a beat and he’s left blankly staring at your figure as you retreat into the station, stealing his heart with you.
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“fine, fine,” reo sighs. it’s two days later on a monday and reo grudgingly gives nagi back his switch. “so, what’d you two do anyway?” he asks, shifting his gaze between nagi and you, though you’re at the other end of the classroom, talking excitedly to your friends.
nagi’s attention quickly transfers to his switch, already opening up a game to play. “nothing much,” is all he offers, and reo’s beginning to think maybe it was more of a punishment for you than a date.
reo sighs again, ready to lecture nagi for being the worst date ever when he pulls up his phone to look at the time. but he accidentally takes nagi’s phone instead, unlocking it to find his own chat thread—to which nagi doesn’t even bother saving his name (reo side eyes him but nagi doesn’t even realise).
that doesn’t surprise him, but what does is when reo realises your contact is saved—with the icon being a picture of the two of you together. you must really be something to be able to make nagi do something so idiotic like this.
“oi, nagi.”
nagi only responds with a raise of his brow. he’s still clicking away at the controls. reo guesses it must be a racing game from those sounds.
“if you guys get married i better be the best man for being your matchmaker,” reo teases, his grin filling his face.
even though nagi doesn’t respond, the champagne pink that brushes across his cheeks is enough indication to reo of nagi’s feelings for you.
looks like he never needed to worry after all.
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2K notes · View notes
lcriedlastnight · 24 days
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down in the grumps | lando norris
fem!reader. reader getting talked about behind her back :( and oblivious reader.
w/c: 2.1k
it’s not that you were being grumpy on purpose. most of the time you didn’t even realise that your replies to simple questions were short and snappy. or that your face seemed to screw up with or without your permission at something you had heard one of your friends say.
they were all used to it by now, after having dealt with it the whole friendship. and you of course, couldn’t help it if your first reaction to mostly anything you were told, was a blunt, sarcastic answer. your face always unapproachable, looking like someone had just told you the most annoying news of your life.
lando knew this when he met you. he even thought the same as everyone else, at first. seeing you chat with your friend, will, as he talks with his hands, excitedly over something. your face pinched in what looked like annoyance. it made him frown at first as he thought it was quiet rude of you to look pissed off when your friend seemed to speak so animatedly. of course as soon as will introduced you both and he got to know you he realised, that you were just unintentionally like that. you were interested in what he was saying, and yeah sometimes you did start pointless, petty arguments but lando had the ability to brush off your silly comments and instead tried to find a way to cheer you up. he had gotten so used to finding ways to make you feel less uptight that it completed skipped his mind that others might not be quite as unbothered by it all as him.
bringing you to the paddock for the australian grand prix had always been the plan. deciding that this weekend would be a great time to hard launch your relationship.
“do i look alright?” you ask, staring at your outfit in the hotel mirror, with a razor sharp gaze, analysing your outfit. lando’s eyes trail down your figure, analysing your outfit too, but with much more love and kindness than you were giving yourself. your face still set hard with the usual furrow of your brows and deep frown, making you look, for a lack of a better word, pissed.
lando leaves the bathroom and pulls your hand straight in the air. before you can question it though, he’s spinning you around lightly. this does ease your worries and makes a small smile appear on your lips for a minute. his silent reassurance spoken loudly through his eyes are they crease with his bright smile, hints of adoration shine through.
“you could’ve just said i looked nice, no need for the theatrics” you grumble out as you straighten up in the mirror and move to place a small kiss on the side of his smile.
lando cries out dramatically. “you missed!”. you roll your eyes and make your way towards the door. your way of telling lando you’re ready to leave. of course he knows this and is hot on your tail, his laugh echoing through the corridors of your floor as he pulls you close by your hand.
the paddock buzzed with cameras and fans and somewhere between them all you were sure there was drivers. you were actually really excited as this was your first time in the paddock.
lando could tell how excited you were just by looking at you. the way your eyes darted around, trying to take in everything at once, they didn’t move quickly though (that was how he knew you were nervous). the way you walked an inch ahead of him. your hand squeezing his as you recognise someone he knows, a driver or a team principal or even a mclaren engineer he knows well, excited to get to know this part of him too. none of this even noticeable to anyone except him, your face still showing your usual expression. lando thinks he likes it better this way, he likes having to read you to know what your feeling.
the first person you meet is oscar. he's sitting in the mclaren motorhome, with his own girlfriend. you fall a little behind lando, as he squeezes your hand in reassurance.
“hey mate, andrea wants to speak to you before you leave today at some point” oscar says, finding himself looking at you in confusion. he knew lando had a girlfriend, but he didn’t expect to see her. and for her to be so… mad? for seemingly no reason, lando was smiling wildly, which confused him more.
“cool.” lando replies as he pulls you closer to his side. he introduces you with a proud smile and oscar throws him a weary one back.
“hey, nice to finally meet you.” oscar says simply. this did not seem like the girl lando ranted and raved about. you hadn’t even said a word yet.
you shoot him a tight lipped smile and return the pleasantry, to him and to lily beside him, who responds kindly. lando pulls you tighter as he and oscar discuss something about the race. you listen intently, and interrupt when lando accidently gets mixed up with what he’s talking about.
instead of seeing it as you helping lando, the couple see it as rude, as you don’t apologise for butting in when you weren’t really even a part of the conversation. lando just sends you an appreciative smile, and returns to what he was talking about, which worried oscar. as he thinks he’s completely ignoring your red flags. he decides he’ll talk to him about it later, when you aren’t standing beside him looking like your about to kick off.
they chat for a bit, you chirping in, when you feel like it. none of it going unnoticed by the australian and his girlfriend. lando mentions something about dropping around the ferrari and red bull garages later on and you feel yourself getting excited again.
you and lando take turns at pulling each other around the paddock all day. lando only leaving your side for a few hours when he has media to do. afterwards he takes you to meet max, who tries to find checo for you but cannot seem to sus him out anywhere. he takes you to meet his old karting rivals, george and alex and then finally decides to take you to the ferrari garage, where carlos and charles stand with an engineer, discussing something about exhausts or something.
“lando!” carlos cheers as he sees you both arrive in front of him. he kindly abandons whatever it is he’s supposed to be listening to, charles following suit. they hug then separate, lando’s hands immediately returning to you.
lando introduces you for the millionth time today as you repeat your actions of a tight smile and a sharp ‘nice to meet you’ , something everyone who you met today noticed. carlos couldn’t help being surprised at your actions, also thinking that you couldn’t be the girl he had heard about from his former teammate.
charles smiles kindly at you and asks how you have been finding today, to which you reply a little less sharply, your excitement seeping through. lando watches on in awe of you opening up to his friends.
after a while of chatting to the boys in red, andrea comes running over, shouting about something no one can quite make out.
“i’ve been searching for you lando!” he huffs as he pulls lando to the side to discuss, something to do with the strategy for the weekend. you take this time to jump on your phone and update your mother on your day, her knowing about how excited you were about today.
carlos looks to charles as he loudly whispers “what’s up with her man?”. he wasn’t far away from you, and it seemed like he wasn’t even trying to be slick with it.
“what? what do you mean?” charles questions, a little confused. carlos just huffs.
“i mean, she’s so grumpy. she seems like she would rather be anywhere but here and lando is just standing next to her with a stupid smile on his face.” carlos frowns, only concerned about his friend, but hurting you in the process. charles hums a reply, not entirely agreeing but not disagreeing either.
carlos’s words make you freeze though. you didn’t realise you were being grumpy? you were just being yourself, so did that mean you were grumpy all the time? your thoughts tornado around your head as the self-consciousness sinks into your veins. did lando think this too?
speaking of lando, he finishes his conversation with andrea and makes his way back to you with a smile, his smile seemed to be never-ending today. his hand links with yours as soon as he is close enough. you immediately smile, forcing your lips upward as you try your best to not be ‘grumpy’.
lando notices this but decides to leave it until you were alone. “hope you guys weren’t listening”. lando jokes. it was a bad joke. no one laughed. charles just stared at him, almost disappointed and carlos just shook his head.
lando frowns and says “alright we’re leaving” and pulls you away. you make sure to smile at the two ferrari boys and wish them good luck for tomorrow, not a trace of sarasm in your words, which confused lando even more. he looks at you quizzically but you ignore it.
somehow you end up back with at the hotel within the next hour, after spending a good few hours at the paddock.
“alright, what’s wrong?” lando asks, almost as soon as you are both in your hotel room. you don’t hesitate before you ask, “am i grumpy?”.
lando looks at you, his face laced with confusion. he opens his mouth to reply but closes it again. he takes his time to gather his words, not wanting to upset you more than what you clearly already were.
“you are grumpy,” he says “but that’s how you’ve been since we met, i’m sure you were like that before, from what will tells me”. your usual frown deepens.
“i didn’t know i was grumpy. how do you put up with me?” you ask, feeling embarrassed at your unknown behaviour.
lando lets the confusion deepen on his face. “how do i- how do i put up with you? i don’t put up with you, baby. you’re my girlfriend.” he says like it’s obvious.
“i do support you. i did want to be there today.” you feel the need to prove yourself to him. to prove carlos wrong.
“i know, you were so excited.” he replies, with a faint smile.
“your friends think i’m grumpy and unsupportive” you tell him, not wanting to expose his friends but feeling hurt by his words. lando looks upset at your words.
“who? who said that? i know you wanted to be there today, baby. just because other people don’t see you the way i do doesn’t mean you aren’t supportive.” lando slowly makes his way towards you, his hands slowly making their way up your arms.
it was weird seeing anything different to your usual expression on your face but he couldn’t help but feel he peeled back a layer of you. it made it him feel happy for a second. his eyes bore into yours, making you feel intimidated.
“i like knowing things about you no one else does. i like knowing how you’re feeling just by looking at you, who cares if everyone else thinks you are grumpy. just makes you my grumpy girl, doesn’t it?” he smiles, trying to cheer you up a little.
a smile graces your lips. mission acomplished, he thinks. he lets his hands gently hold the sides of your face as he lets himself take in your face, looking at it like he’ll never get the chance again. you feel your breath hitch as he moves closer.
lando smiled at the sound before he lets his lips press against you. it wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t passionate. it was reassuring. it told you everything was okay. he pulls away before you would like. you chase his lips as he laughs.
“you’re cute,” he says. “what do you say to an early night?”. you nod, the busy day and the unusual mix of emotions, exhausted you.
you both get unready next to each other, doing your nightly routines in sync. lando trying to make you laugh as you both brush your teeth in front of the bathroom mirror.
once you lay in the bed, wrapped up in him his words finally sink in. as long as you are both secure in your relationship, what does it matter if people think you’re grumpy. you’d never smile again if it meant lando would love you for the rest of your life.
....
l's radio: if this is bad pretend i didn't post it i cba to proof read, i'm too tired from getting up at 6 for the gp today :(
927 notes · View notes
moonchildstyles · 2 months
Note
have you thought about revisiting that anon concept about asterry and his girlfriend watching p*rn? I'm asking for a friend hehe
wordcount: 9.8k+
—————
(Y/N) blinked, staying silent as she took in the conversation around her. This was definitely not the avenue she saw the night taking when Charlotte had opened the second bottle of wine between the few of them. 
"I asked him if he still watched it a lot, like as much as he did before we started dating, but he wouldn't really say no," Emily shared before taking a pull from her wine glass, "He didn't say yes, but all he said was that its different now, don't worry. What is that even supposed to mean? Like, do you watch porn when I go to sleep, yes or no?" 
Charlotte and Sarah both laughed, joining Emily as she smiled around the rim of her wine glass. (Y/N) wanted to laugh along, but she was honestly still a bit thrown off by the topic. 
Truthfully, she didn't know really much about anything that had to do with... pornography. The closest she had were the scenes some of her romantic novels had, and movies that had her adverting her eyes.
Not only was the act of sex demonized growing up—especially before marriage—but anything else that had to do with it. There was no way she was going to risk doing any of her own research should her parents' close monitoring catch even a stray google search. 
After getting out from under their thumb, she didn't have much desire to go looking on that corner of the internet—she had done fine enough up to this point, she figured. Then, of course, she met Harry and there really seemed to be no need for any kind of video when she had him in the flesh.
(Y/N) honestly wondered if she had ever even spoken the word porn aloud, let alone discussed it with anyone else. This conversation was especially jarring given all of the giggling and the unfiltered language. 
"Em," Charlotte piped up, bringing her wine glass to her mouth to cover the wry grin growing on her face, "Have you ever tried watching it with him, though?" 
Feeling her cheeks warming, (Y/N) practically sunk into her skin as if to hide from the conversation. Sarah had mimicked her surprise some, though she was decidedly less shocked into silence. 
"Charlotte!" Sarah bubbled, dark brows raised, "Is that what you do?" 
Another peal of laughter came from the wine-soaked group, though (Y/N)'s reaction was more to fit in with the theatrics. (When it came to topics like these, she didn't want to be quiet even if she wasn't necessarily talkative—being too silent left people wondering if she was uninterested, judging them, and invited questions she wasn't looking to answer). 
She had always figured the viewing of those kinds of videos to be something that was done alone. She couldn't fathom anyone joining in and watching alongside what should be a particularly intimate moment. (Besides, if you had someone to watch them with, why watch them at all when you could be with that person?). 
Charlotte hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth before closing it. Emily nudged her at her side, a mischievous smile on her face. 
"C'mon, spit it out." 
Finally, Charlotte threw her hands up in surrender. "It's honestly not that bad, and I think you should try it." 
"So, you have done it!" Sarah called, bouncing in her spot on the couch, "With Elijah or?" 
"With Elijah, yeah," she settled, the wine getting to her tongue as she didn't mind sharing more details, "I walked in on him one time, and I wanted to be grossed out, but I just wasn't. It ended up working out, and now it's just a thing sometimes." 
Charlotte's ending shrug before taking down a gulp of wine showed the end of her story, though Emily still nudged her as if there was more she could shake out. 
"I don't know if I could do that," Sarah admitted, crossing her legs underneath herself, "I think it would annoy me too much, that Mitch was watching a video like that when he could have just called me or something." 
(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as the conversation then changed, some debate on if videos like that were allowed in relationships. 
She didn't know what she would do if she walked in on Harry watching something like that. While she couldn't really deny that she enjoyed the sight of him playing with himself (something she's shyly learned every time Harry passed his fist over himself before sinking into one of her holes), she wasn't sure what she would think about the inspiration behind the act. There was a part of her that would be offended, she thought, that she was right there and he picked a video over the real thing. Another part of her understood that maybe he wouldn't want to have sex right then, instead opting to take care of himself before moving on. Besides, it wasn't like he had photos of her to look at in the heat of the moment, so she figured she would have to understand. 
There was no use in being jealous of girls in movies anyway. Even if it did kind of hurt her stomach thinking about Harry reacting to them the same way he did to her. 
Around her the conversation had floated elsewhere leaving behind the illicit subject matter for something lighter (a movie Emily had gone to the theater to hate watch only to end up liking it some, and now she was questioning her taste level). She was able to plug into this one much better, that much was evident in the way Sarah had quit giving her small glances as if she knew that (Y/N)'s comfort was twisting. 
Despite now adding her own takes to the conversation and actively engaging outside of a few well placed laughs and head nods, the back of her mind was lagging behind. 
There were questions rattling around that she was sure she wasn't going to be able to keep completely under wraps the next time she saw Harry. 
—————
(Y/N) watched as Harry climbed into bed beside her, comforter pulled up to her chin as she sunk into the warm mattress. He gave her a lopsided smile when he caught her following gaze, her skin warming as she averted her eyes. 
Cuddling in beside her, Harry pulled her close with an arm around her waist, his ankle hooking around hers. She could feel his eyes on her, but when she didn't immediately match his gaze she heard a plume of laughter fall from him, 
"Why won't y'look at me, love?" he smiled, reaching his hand on her waist through the duvet to brush her hair out of her face. 
She shyly kept her eyes on the column of his tattooed throat, following the thorny roses. "You caught me." 
(Y/N) could feel the fan of his laughter as much as she heard it. His hand settled on her cheek then, his fingertips venturing into the baby hairs bordering her hairline. "Yeah, but y'catch me looking at you all the time," he countered, "Jus' lets me know y'like what y'see." 
Using his hand on her cheek, he angled her face towards him once more, forcing her eyes to meet his own. A small smile graced his features, his eyes light with amusement. Tipping his chin just right, he pressed his lips to hers in a delicate kiss. 
When he pulled away his smile had grown, dimples now touching his cheeks as he ran the pad of his thumb over the height of her cheekbone. "Did you have fun tonight, baby?" 
Their dinner date splashed through her head, along with all of the warm feelings she went through while under the dimmed lights. They swapped bites of food, shared a cocktail (Y/N) really wanted to try but was worried it would be too strong, and Harry pulled out any joke he could in hopes of hearing her bubbling laughter through the restaurant. 
Nodding her head against the pillow, her own smile took her features, leaving her cheeks mushed between Harry's hand and the soft of her pillow. "A lot of fun. Thank you for taking me." 
His hand slipped down the slope of her form, settling on the sup of her waist before he gave a gentle squeeze. When (Y/N) reacted with a bubble of laughter, Harry's eyes swam with adoration. 
"I had fun too, baby," he crooned, "Thank you for coming with me." 
With the low lights and the gentle way he spoke to her, (Y/N) felt like she was supposed to be tired. It was kind of her thing, anyway—being sleepy and decidedly ready to pass out whenever. But, that just didn't seem to be the case tonight, her head was too full.
When she had come to his place after class, Harry greeting her at the door, there was a pinging question in the back of her mind that made an abrupt return from the previous night. As much as she wanted to blurt it out, get the curiosity out of the way, it didn't feel entirely appropriate to ask her boyfriend about his porn habits just after walking through the door. That much was made even more apparent given the fact that Mitch greeted her a few minutes later, trekking from his room to the kitchen with a small wave. Then, Harry had told her he had plans to take her out to dinner that night, and there was no way she was asking such a question in the middle of a restaurant. 
There was never good time it seemed, to sate her curiosity and learn her own perspective on what her friends had been talking about. No time better than right now, anyway.
She just had to find some kind of courage to go along with the timing. 
Shuffling closer, the sheets shifting around them, Harry pressed a small kiss to her forehead, right over a crease she hadn't realized was scrunching the skin. "What's going on in here?" he cooed, "You're thinking too hard before bedtime, love." 
"I just—" she bubbled off before stopping her tongue. She swallowed, a pinch appearing between her brows. "There was something... I don't know." 
There were no words that felt comfortable in her mouth, nothing that she could feasibly hear herself saying when it came to the questions she had. (Honestly, she couldn't understand how she was able to utter some of the things she did for Harry between the sheets and now shy away over pornography). 
His hand on her waist was a stern anchor, the grip just tight enough to remind her that he was there. "'S alright, y'can tell me. What is it?" 
Gone was the amusement and the soft teasing he had offered up to her before, instead his voice growing soft and forgiving. Patience now settled in his eyes as he waited on her. 
Dropping her own gaze to dance around his features, she distracted herself with the spray of fine freckles on his nose. "The girls last night, they said something that I've just been... thinking about I guess." 
The warmth of his gaze traced over her own features. "What was it? It wasn't anything rude, right?" 
"No, no, no," (Y/N) rushed out, matching his gaze to show her sincerity. All of those girls were her friends, and Sarah would also never let anything like that happen around her. "It was—I don't know, it feels weird to say it." 
Harry's expression relaxed now that he knew he wasn't there to be nursing any wounds. "We've said a lot of weird stuff to one another, baby. I think I can handle it." 
She couldn't look him in the eye when she tried to speak again, instead dropping back to the tattooed skin of his neck. Her hands between them reached to take his shirt between her fingers, the faded graphic on the material distracting her just enough. 
"They were talking about porn." Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. "With their boyfriends." 
There was a pause, though (Y/N) could feel his unwavering eyes on her face. 
"Okay," he finally shared, the syllable slow as it dropped from his tongue, "That's what's been on your mind?" 
Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to find the next set of words that made sense. "I-I have questions. I think." 
Harry's expression broke into a soft smile she could hear through the delicate huff of laughter he let out. "You think?" 
Peeking up at him through her lashes, she saw his eyes bare of liner, the planes of his face relaxed and rounded, and his hair pushed away from his face leaving it all on display. He didn't look at all bothered by her avenue of conversation, leaving him to be the always open book he was for her, willing and ready to answer anything she needed. 
"Yeah," she said, settling into her skin some, "I knew what they were talking about, but I don't think I really understand it all. I thought I could ask you, if it wasn't weird." 
"Never weird, love," Harry shared, "You know 'm always here to answer anything y'need help with." 
(Y/N) blinked, tipping her chin in a short nod. "Okay, but if there's anything you don't want to answer, you don't have to." 
"'M sure I can answer ever—" 
"Do you watch porn?"
Practically cringing at the sound of her voice wrapped around that question and the fact she spoke it aloud right to Harry, (Y/N) wanted to curl up in hopes of disappearing. 
"Sorry," she started, her voice barely a peep, "I didn't mean to cut you off." 
Harry looked at her for a lingering moment, his brows raised high over his eyes before he melted some. An amused smile sat on his lips, a small puff of laughter exhaling from his lungs. "'S alright," he offered, his hand on her waist squeezing just enough, "Not what I was expecting, but 's okay.
"To answer your question," he drawled, "No, I don't—not since you, really. No need to when I've got my own pretty star, huh?" 
His lips molded into a teasing smile, but lopsided as he pressed forward hoping to catch a small grin from her. 
Keeping her shy gaze dropped, (Y/N) couldn't keep her lips from curling. There was a bit of pride from the flattery; he didn't need any videos when he had her instead. She was enough to satisfy him, and that was a nice thought even if it was a bit in the gutter. 
Spotting her shy smile, Harry let out a plume of laughter before he dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. Knowing him, he probably already knew what was going on in her head, even if she didn't say it aloud. 
"Is that all y'wanted to know, my love?" 
Her fingers in his shirt curled just a bit more, as if she were bracing herself for this next string. "One of the girls, she said something about her and her boyfriend... watching it together," (Y/N) prattled, her voice growing smaller the more she went on, "Is that normal?"
Harry lagged in his response, taking his time with his fingers fiddling with a pulsing pattern on her waist. "It can be," he offered, "but, 's not for everyone. I've never really talked about that with anyone, but I would imagine it could make people feel closer—sharing something that's usually only done by yourself."
(Y/N) silently nodded her head, taking in his offered information. Truthfully, she wanted to stall, find another inconsequential question to stall him before she was left with the last curiosity she'd had burning in the back of her head. 
The avenue she landed on was barely any less humiliating, but it was easy to fall from her tongue than the other she'd had on deck. She still couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke, bubbling off the question before she could second guess herself. 
"Is that something you would want to try? Like, watching it together and all." 
Skating his hand over the curves of her form, Harry tipped her chin up. Their eyes matching, (Y/N) could see the way he scanned over her features the way he always did when he was attempting to decipher where she was coming from. The lines of his features were softened, rounding into soft curves and gentling the longer her gazed at her.
"Is that something you want to try?" 
Flounder under his pressing, (Y/N) understood what he was going for—she was too shy to explicitly voice all of her wants, so he had to fill in the gaps at times—but was still taken aback none the less. Of course the thought had crossed her mind since the previous night, about what it would be like to sit with Harry and watch a different kind of movie than she usually watched with him, but the idea wasn't exactly the most compelling. 
She wasn't sure if she could really handle watching him watch someone else, and potentially become more turned on than he had even been with her. Nonetheless, she had never actually watched any porn herself, and she wasn't sure if she really had any real inclination to change that. 
But, there was something to be said about the way Harry had described the act: sharing someone to vulnerable, that is usually kept private, with someone you trust. He had a way of making these scenes sound much more romantic than the semantics did. 
"I don't know," she settled on, aware of the intensity in his eyes as he watched her, "I've never really watched anything like that, so I don't think I really understand what that would mean." 
Almost imperceptible, (Y/N) was able to catch the way his brows raised just enough. "Really?" 
Tipping her head in an almost shrug between the sheets, (Y/N) pursed her lips. "It was one of those things, you know."��
That was enough of an explanation to Harry; he knew her growing years and the drilled in obedience that followed her even after leaving home. Despite curiosity, there was no way she would have had the confidence to even make a search, that he knew.
A small curve settled on his lips, patience and understanding sitting in his eyes. "Guess that makes sense then, hm?" 
"Just add it to the list," (Y/N) joked back, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. 
His hand on her jawline that he had used to tip her face towards him now angled itself towards the curve of her throat. His palm was warm and agnate over her skin, the pad of his thumb stretching to rest on the hinge of her jaw. "Is it something you want to know more about?" 
"Kind of," she answered honestly, sinking into the fluff of the pillow under her head, "But...Really, I think I only care about what y-you like and all of that." 
It was one of the harder admissions, (Y/N) feeling as if she were asking a bit too much into his personal thoughts. If he wanted to share that part of himself, he would have already, she figured. 
The warmth of his thumb on her cheek expanded as he pet a small trail down to the line of her jaw. "I don't really watch it anymore, love, remember?" 
"Yeah, but," she started, resisting the urge to pin her bottom lip between her teeth, "What about before?" 
When Harry paused, (Y/N)'s fingers in her shirt pulsed in an anxious curl. 
"But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to," she quickly attempted to recover, replaying her words and just how pushy they may have come off.
The amused laughter that fell from his lips was enough to reassure her that she hadn't bothered him too much. "'S alright, baby," he murmured, "I was jus' thinking." 
When he didn't immediately offer any extra information, she couldn't help herself—her curiosity was so close to gaining all the answers she needed, she didn't want it to stop now. 
"About what?" she mumbled, watching intently as he just kept thinking.
Only one side of his mouth curled upwards, his smile going lopsided. "If I should tell you, or show you." 
Now, (Y/N) had no choice but to fall silent around her dry throat. Show her?
Harry let out a small laugh at her reaction, unable to hold himself back before he was pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose between her wide eyes. 
"I take it that I should probably jus' tell you, huh?" he joked, pulling away with a brilliant smile on his lips to match the bright lilypad of his irises. 
Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) spoke up, "Y-You could show me. If you think that would be easier." 
Though the request itself wasn't made with much confidence, she still was surprised it even made its way out of her mouth. Two birds with one stone, she figured, she'd finally see what it—porn—was all about, and learn something new about Harry. 
That was what she was telling herself anyway. 
Raising a single brow over his intense gaze, Harry took in her reaction. "We could do that," he mused, "But, I don't want to do that if it would make y'uncomfortable, love. It can be a bit... much, especially if you have nothing to compare it to." 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she allowed her gaze to trace along the line of the single stray curl that rested against his temple. "I think I can handle it," she told him, her voice small as she avoided his eyes. 
Shifting his hand on her neck, Harry brought his palm to rest on her cheek. The pad of his thumb ran along the fragile skin under her eyes. "You are brave, aren't you." 
"I try," she murmured, shy smile evident in her voice. 
She could practically see the gears turning in Harry's head, his eyes flashing with just a glint of something she couldn't name. She was hyper aware of his hand once again gliding over her skin until he was carding his fingers through her hair to rest his palm on the back of her head. She matched her gaze to his bashfully. 
"Are you tired, or do y'think y'can stay up a little while longer with me?"
With a flutter of her lashes, and her heart mimicking the act, (Y/N) tugged herself that much closer to him between the sheets. 
"I can stay awake."  His lips turned into a lopsided smile, a single dimple denting his cheek as he gazed at her. (Y/N) could only tip her chin just so when he surged forward, pressing their lips together in a warming kiss. While it was chaste, there was an urgency behind it that she could feel before he pulled away. 
"Lay the other way for me, baby," he instructed with a jerk of his chin, "I need to grab m'phone." When (Y/N) didn't immediately turn to press her back to his chest, Harry lagged, keeping from reaching for his phone on the bedside. "What's wrong, hm?" 
"I don't get to see you?" (Y/N) murmured, barely keeping the whine out of her voice. She preferred seeing his eyes over everything else, knowing that it was him that was touching her. 
A soft hum of laughter fell from his lips. "'S just gonna be a little bit easier this way, love, that's all. I'll still be right here." 
"'Kay," she answered, though she didn't follow his instruction until he pressed another kiss to her puckered lips. 
With that, Harry reached to the bedside table where his phone was resting while (Y/N) twisted in the sheets to lay on her side with her back to his chest. The duvet folded, leaving her arm and back exposed to the chill while Harry took longer than a few moments to do whatever it is he was doing on his phone. 
She could hear the faint taps of his finger against the screen, scrolling and typing before he eventually curled around her. Harry conformed to the shape of her, his sweatpants-clad legs tangling with her bare ones with his arm hooking around her waist to position his phone before the two of them. He shifted the pillow under his head until she could feel the plume of his breath grazing the column of her throat, warm though it still elicited goosebumps to erupt over her skin. 
(Y/N) could feel her heart bubbling in her chest when she dared to peek at what was on his bright screen. Though there was nothing explicit or exposing on the screen, she was sure they weren't too far off with the dark color scheme of the site he had brought up. 
"Are you sure, love?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear, "We don't have to do this if y'don't want to. It can be a lot right away, and I don't want to scare you." 
Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) allowed his words to roll around her head. She wasn't completely naive—she could imagine what the videos would look like, though she doubted it would look or feel the same as it did when she was underneath Harry. But, his earlier definition still stuck with her: this was a small vulnerability he was sharing with her. This is something he would normally have kept so private, but he was willing to bring her in and share something so different with her. 
She could be brave—she could keep her curiosity burning enough to keep from feeling any kind of anxiety. 
"I'm sure," she mumbled, "Thank you." 
Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, Harry hugged her to his chest for a lingering moment. "You tell me if y'change your mind, darling." 
"I will," she assured, despite his words being more of a statement than request. 
Reaching over her, Harry grabbed for his phone and began tapping at the screen. The brightness had lowered from disuse, but was brought back to life from his touch, leaving every frame illuminated once more. Snuggled against his back, (Y/N) watched, her eyes widened once the reality of the site was scrolled through. 
There was already a video pulled up on screen, showing what exactly took him so long to tap through his phone before. (Y/N) blinked, trying to decipher what was in the thumbnail before her. 
From the small snippet she could see—along with the attention grabbing, all caps title—this was a loving couple having morning sex on a Saturday to the sunrise. Very romantic and loving, supposedly. In the picture, she could see the beginnings of a sunrise through a conveniently, perfectly lit bedroom. There were gauzy drapes over their open windows and pristine white linens on their bed—even the creases and folds were artfully tufted around their bodies. (Y/N) couldn't be sure if they were just that perfect, or this was an expertly produced video. She couldn't tell the difference. 
The pair was barely clothed, their faces cut out of frame, leaving their bodies to be the star of the show. The man had tattoos—no where near as many as Harry, but still quite an array. He was undressed down his briefs, where there was a bulge that could be clearly seen against the woman's stomach. She was made of smooth swathes of skin, the ends of her hair visible as it brushed her bare skin before disappearing out of frame, and her chest bare. All (Y/N) could see that was distinctive about her form, was a small tattoo on her thigh in the shape of a red heart outline, contrasting against the white cotton panties sitting on her hips. Their limbs were in a tangle with one another, legs crossed and arms holding one another.
From behind, she could feel the brush of Harry's lips against her throat. "Does this look okay?" 
(Y/N) gave her approval in a small nod of her head, her hair brushing against her pillow. "Have you watched this before?" 
She could hear the curl of his lips in his voice as his words swept across the back of her neck. "A few times, yeah." 
As he spoke, Harry's thumb tapped on the video, pressing play and starting it up. She watched as the frames took over the screen, showing the humble beginnings of the film with the woman crawling over the bedsheets to reach her lover where he was laid back against the pillows. The soft sound of their lips meeting could be heard off screen. 
"W-When?" she asked, her line of questioning a safe distraction from what was going on in front of her. 
The soft sounds of their mouths coming together and parting filtered quietly from his phone. Were they that loud when they kissed too? 
"Not for a while," he reminded her, though his voice dropped lower into a whisper just for her when he spoke again, "Watched it for the first time after that night in my office at the shop though, I remember that." 
"You do?" Her skin warmed at the reminder of that first night—all of the things she learned that night while sprawled out on that couch. 
On video, the man had gripped the woman's hips and settled her atop him from the position she had previously held on all fours. The length of their bodies were pressed together, their faces still just perfectly out of frame to keep everything anonymous. Their kissing had turned rougher, a bit noisier as they sunk into one another. The sun outside their window was casting luminous glares over the scene, giving buttery warmth to their escalating acts. 
Harry's hand on her waist squeezed as he watched. "Yeah," Harry breathed, a heavy kiss landing on the back of her neck, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I saw this video and... she kind of looks like you, doesn't she?"
(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat. There was a moment as the woman moved, her body on display against the heavy tattoos of her partner that had her seeing them in just the right light. 
Cotton panties, bare skin, delicate tattoo, all wrapped in white with the slow sharing of kisses between she and her lover. (Y/N) could see herself in that. 
It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that Harry saw someone so effortlessly sexy, and could see (Y/N) in them. 
She pressed herself against him that much more, her back against his chest. His hand on her waist tightened, as if preparing to keep her just where she was should someone try to steal her away. She could feel the fan of his breath fluttering over her skin as she watched his phone. 
The acts between the couple escalated until the camera caught the way the woman ran her hand down the man's body until she had reached his cock. Her palm was pressed against the bulge, rubbing against it through the fabric of his underwear. He moaned unabashedly off screen, whispering something for only his lover to hear. (Y/N)'s lungs squeezed when she saw the way the dots of wetness seeped over the grey underwear covering him. 
"Wh-What else do you like about this video?" (Y/N) murmured, shifting so her hand was laid over his own on her waist, their fingers tangling together. 
A breathy laugh could be heard from behind her. Harry's voice was just as low as he spoke, "Do y'really want me to talk through the whole thing?" 
"I like hearing you more," she admitted, squeezing his hand in hers. 
A delicate kiss was dropped to her shoulder, the curl of his smile evident in the small contact. "Well, other than her reminding me of my angel," he drawled, a tease to his tone, "'S different than some of the things I used to watch. I liked seeing something gentle." 
(Y/N)'s throat bobbed as she swallowed around her dry throat. Before her, the videoed couple had now moved on to sliding their hands into each other's underwear. The man's face was buried in his lover's neck, showing off a head of dark hair as his moans filtering through the small speakers. The woman's whimpering noises could be heard in tandem with the slick sounds of their hands roaming each other's bodies. 
"What was the other stuff you watched?" Absently, (Y/N) was aware of the way her hips shifted some, rubbing her backside against Harry's front. Behind her, against the curve of her bottom, she could feel something much more rigid than the blocks of his muscle beginning to press into her.
He paused before he spoke, mulling over her question while she watched on screen as the few pieces of clothing covering the couple's bodies were shed. Harry's hand on her waist shifted, leaving her own behind as he pressed his palm into the soft of her stomach. She could feel the pressure of his fingertips on her plush skin just as much as she could see the man on screen press against his lover's thigh in the same way. 
"'Member m'birthday?" he murmured into her skin, his mouth beginning a blazing trail over her shoulder. The tip of his nose caught on the neck of her top, pulling it along with him as he kissed the cuff of her shoulder. 
For a split moment, there was a different movie playing for (Y/N). This one featured she and Harry as the stars, celebrating his birthday between the sheets with his cock sinking into her throat, his palm smacking over her center, and his cum painting over her face. She wondered if he could feel the way her stomach tightened under his hand at the memories. 
"Yeah," she answered simply, the word carried on a warm breath. 
He hummed from behind her, a smug curl on his lips pressing into her shoulder. "Things like that, baby," he explained, "But I started watching things like this after I met you." 
The couple on screen was beginning to find the throes of their passion, now both bare bodied and reaching for one another. There was a part of (Y/N) that wanted to shy away at the sight of two strangers and their naked bodies, their recording of an intimate moment not sitting right in her stomach. There was another part of her that imagined Harry sitting down, pants to his thighs and his hand in his lap, picturing she and him in these spots instead as he fisted his cock. That part of her kept her from drawing her eyes away, urging her to see what he did—see what held his attention while waiting for her to be ready for more than easy touching and kisses in his bedroom.
Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak again, only to be cut off when Harry's palm grazed the waist of her panties. Though she was still only feeling his touch through her shirt, she was sure he could feel the extra groove of fabric and the tightening of her abdomen. Only that much further, and he could fit his hand between her legs just like the man on screen was doing to his own lover. 
"Wh-Why?" she asked, building off of his previous response to keep herself from melting and begging for him to touch her when they had barely just started. 
Hooking his ankle around hers, Harry started pulling her that much more into his embrace. The sheets around them hissed over their bodies, his phone wobbling from its upright position against the pillow though it didn't fall. He pushed his thigh between her own, opening up her legs with the hem of her oversized shirt being pushed up and over her thighs. 
"I liked the idea of going slow, after I met you, love," he detailed, no longer playing around when he finally slid his hand over her form and slipped it under the end of her top, "Didn't really get off on the thought of fucking you as much as I did to kissing you and making y'happy." 
(Y/N) all but melted at his explanation. She reveled in the sound of his voice, mixing with the soft sound of the couple on screen finding their own bliss within one another. Through her hooded gaze, it was easy to see the lovers on his phone as she and Harry, the daydream building around her. 
In a tug back down to earth, (Y/N)'s breath caught when Harry fit his hand between her thighs. His wandering touch had finally reached her, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit and the length of his fingers down her center. She was sure he could feel the heat that had collected there, though she hoped she hadn't completely soaked through her underwear that quickly. 
"Y'like it so far?" he asked, pressing his palm that much harder against her clit. 
"Uh-huh," she breathlessly replied. Her hooded eyes were glued to the sight of the way the man positioned himself above her, thighs open for him to fit between. She could hear him murmur something to her, passing a hand over her form with fingertips skating across her breasts and down to the round of her hips. Every touch was careful and clinging, the sound of their kissing soundtracking the moment. "He reminds me of you." 
He hummed from behind her, his hand beginning to shift over her core in a delicate press to draw away her breath. "Yeah?" 
"Yeah," she answered, eyes stitched to the video as the man sunk his cock into his lover, a shrill whine leaving her lips while he settled against her hips. His tattoos quivered as his muscles flexed under his skin, making the stars and constellations inked over his skin dance. "You're better, but," (Y/N) swallowed, hearing the quiet slap of his skin against the woman's as he thrusted against her, "He touches her like you touch me." 
Harry's response came in the form of languid touches that warmed her skin and kept her breathless even when her eyes closed and the video was an afterthought. Underneath her, he fit his free arm to coil around her form. His thigh between her two tensed, lifting just enough so he could spread her own legs enough to give her what she wanted. 
Hooking his fingers into her panties, he pulled them to the side, a cool shiver going up (Y/N)'s spine now that she was exposed to his touch. He dragged his fingertips through her slit, collecting the drops of slick until he circled around her clit in languorous pulls. 
She had never been so thankful for the stretched out neckline of her top as she was then, when she felt Harry's heavy kisses searing into her bare skin. There was so much of him all over, pressing into her back with his cock hard against her, his kiss on her shoulder, and his hand on her core, pulling more and more air out of her lungs. 
"You know how many times I thought about doing that to you, baby?" he drawled into her skin, syrupy and thick into her pores, "Before y'were ready, this was all I had. Had to picture you letting me spread you out like that, feel how wet you were jus' for me." 
With his hand between her thighs, slick fingertips on her clit before they traveled down towards her pulsing opening, she could have cried for him. She had been depriving him of this, leaving him to only watch videos and imagine, when they could have been doing this so much sooner. She wasn't sure at times—especially at one like this—how she had even made it through without his touch. 
"I'm sorry," she stuttered out for him, her hand grasping at sheets, "Yo-You should have told me." 
A rumble of laughter was felt against her back as much as she heard the sound fan to her ears. "Don't be sorry, lovebug, y'jus' weren't ready yet, that's all. I think we're making up for it jus' fine, don't you?" 
She could only nod her head, forcing her eyes to blink open. It was a task given the fact that she was still luxuriating in the tease of his fingers passing over her entrance before smearing her clit and restarting the circuit. Looking ahead, she had seen that the couple on film was thick in their session, breathless, the man straining himself as he set a controlled pace while thrusting into his partner with the woman grasping and reaching for any part of him she could reach. Watching the way the man's skin turned pink in the wake of her nails made (Y/N) want to do the same to Harry—what would the roses on his chest and the butterfly on his torso look like filled in with a bit of color? 
"I want to see you," she blurted out, unable to hold back anymore. She didn't care much for the movie anymore anyway, he was what she wanted. This video would probably still be there later, they could explore more later, if she really wanted. 
A teasing smile could be heard in his voice, the notion making (Y/N) want to feel embarrassed through she didn't have much room for that given the way she was rutting into his hand. "Y'don't want to keep watching? I thought y'liked it, love? Liked him?" 
"I like you," she countered, already turning in his arms despite the coil of his hold around her, "I want to see you now. You're better." 
He didn't put up any more teasing argument, instead helping her as she twisted and turned in his arms until his phone was forgotten in the tufts of the duvet and she had her lips pressed to his. His and that had been between her legs was now stationed at her hip, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as she melted into him. A sigh of something that felt like relief to (Y/N) slipped from her throat.
Harry parted his lips, swiping his tongue across the seam of her mouth, tasting her noises. Reaching for his bare shoulders, (Y/N) wasn't even thinking before she had the blunt of her nails pressing to his skin, just like the woman in the video. (Who must have been having a good time given the faint noises (Y/N) could still hear among the folds of their bedding). 
She readily opened her mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, eager to get a state of him. He led her through the kiss, pressing his tongue to hers and tasting through every delicate moan and breathy exhale she gave. 
This was definitely better than watching a video. 
"Harry," she mumbled into his kiss, barely enunciating before she was urging to press her lips to his once more. 
He smiled against her mouth, allowing a small slew of her excited kisses to hit him before he pulled away enough to meet her eyes. His pupils were wide and dark, leaving only slices of murky green to ring around them. There was a flush over his cheeks, warm and red that matched the hue of his kiss-swollen lips. She couldn't help her eyes but to follow the tip of his tongue as it peeked out to wet his lips. 
"What do y'want from me love?" 
Her answer was automatic: "You." 
(Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the dimple that was thumbed into his cheek as a lopsided curl took his lips. "I know," he said, much too smug, "But do y'want me to keep touching you? Or do y'want more, love? Gotta tell me or I can't help you."
Her mind flashed to the vision of the man fitting his hips against his lover's like a puzzle piece, sinking inside her and straining his muscles to making the best pace for her. That was what (Y/N) wanted. 
"I want more," she told him, her voice a whisper between just the two of them, "Like the video."
Harry drew closer towards he, his smile fading as the blunt of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. "I can do that for you, baby. Do you think you're ready for me, or do y'need a little more?" 
She shook her head on instinct. "I'm ready." 
Tipping his chin, Harry pulled her into another languid kiss with his tongue touching over her lips. His kiss was a welcome distraction while his hand reached for the waist of her panties underneath the hem of her top. He pushed them down her thighs as far as he could before he was forced to break their kiss to help ease them off the rest of the way. (Y/N) felt clingy for him in that moment, already missing his touch and warmth. It wasn't much longer that he pulled his own underwear off, everything landing into a pile on the floor, before he was laying himself atop her. 
Much like the movie, she swore their hips fit like puzzle pieces together, the bones cushioned by plush skin. She reached for his arms reflexively, though she hadn't meant to grip him so tightly until she felt the head of his cock nudge against her clit. Her lungs squeezed with a coiled ribbon cinching around her stomach. 
Above her, Harry was like an angel. His eyes were bare from his usual liner, though there were still the stark black additions of his nose and lip rings pierced through his face. His skin was flushed and warm, cheeks matching his bright eyes. Around his features, his curls hung around in waved strands and curled ringlets. It wasn't the first time she had seen him like this and wondered if he was the true angel between the two. 
"Still feel good, love?" he asked, his hands fisted into anchors on either side of her head. 
Matching the intensity of his eye contact, (Y/N) kept herself from shrugging her hips against his own, wanting of feel along heavy brush of his cock against her center. "Uh-huh," she sounded, throat dry, "Please."
 Only a glimpse of his smile could be seen before he was dipping down to draw her in for another kiss. He sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her top lip delicately with the soft sounds of their lips parting and coming together to fill the room. 
For a moment, (Y/N) wondered if they would look like that couple if they were on film. If their love, and the gentle touches, and the shared heartspace could be seen just as easily. She liked to think they would do it even better. 
One of his hands on the bed disappeared, the mattress shifting without the weight, before she felt it again over the small of her stomach. It was nothing more than a soft brush before he had his fist wrapped around his cock, guiding himself inside her. The head brushed against her clit in a heavy press; she couldn't tell if she was more wet than she thought or if he had been pearling dots of precum from his tip while she was preoccupied. 
He slid his tip through her folds until he hit the pulsing entrance nestled inside. (Y/N) shivered, letting out small noise into his mouth. She could tell her was becoming distracted, his kiss slowing until he was doing nothing other than focusing on the slid of his cock through her wetness, socking in her until he finally pressed forward. 
It was a familiar stretch, the head fitting inside her, but it still took her breath away. Especially now that their box of condoms was pushed to the back of his bedside drawer, barely used unless she asked, she was able to feel every ridge and vein on his cock. She felt more and more full with every inch pushed inside her, her walls pulling him in while she attempted to keep kissing him before giving up on the act in favor of simply resting her parted lips against his own.
Harry's guiding hand had shifted to lay on her hip, his touch a bit slick though neither of them minded. He was just as lost in the feeling as he was with the way he let out shuddering breaths with stilted lungs, his hand on the other side of her head now holding a tremor. His breath came out in warm fans over her features, heating her that much further. 
He bottomed out with a wet sound of his cock sliding through her walls, his base resting heavy against her clit. (Y/N)'s hold on his arms tightened at the feeling, nails leaving imprints on his skin. 
Her heartbeat bubbled in her ears as she got her bearings, coming to with a flutter of her eyes only to see harry already looking at her with his own hooded gaze. 
"You alright?" he breathed, dilated eyes scanning over her features, "Do y'need me to wait?" 
"No, no," she bubbled off, "Please, daddy." 
That was all he seemingly needed to hear—the whine of her voice and his title so lovingly mentioned—before Harry was rearing his hips back and pressing into her once more. He split her open, her walls stretching and opening for him to fit inside with every languid thrust. The first few took her breath away, getting used to the feeling of the friction and every part of her body being fulfilled by him. 
"Daddy," she helplessly called out, her voice a shared secret for just the two of them. The sheets hissed around them, matching her volume. 
Harry watched her form above as she struggled to keep her eyes from closing. She wanted to see him; this is what she had been wanting when she decided to ditch the movie. She wanted to watch him the way they had watched the couple. 
"'M here, baby. 'M here," he murmured, his voice dropping low as his mouth fell into a gape. "Feel so good, love—fuck." 
Spurred on by his praise, (Y/N) hiked her this over his hip, the heel of her foot pressing into the back of his thigh. Her plush skin gave way to the angles of his body, cushioning him as he drove his hips into hers in lingering passes. His hand on her hip shifted then, dragging her sleep shirt the rest of the way up until her bare breasts were exposed to the heat of the room. 
His palm dragged over the swell, her nipple catching on the creases of his skin. Goosebumps erupted over her form, her lashes fluttering at the touch. Harry dipped his head down, pressing his lips to her other breast, the tip of his nose skimming across before he wrapped his mouth around her nipple. His tongue touched over the bud, warming her though she could feel the skin tightening in response. He matched the pace of his wandering touch on her other breast, allowing her to feel him in every place she needed. 
Almost. 
Feeling the base of his cock press against her clit wasn't enough. She needed more than that fleeting touch against her, more than just the harsh smear over her weeping center. 
"Daddy, I—" she cried out, her words evaporating when she felt him twitch inside her. 
"'S okay," he shushed her, his mouth popping off of her nipple before he dragged his kisses towards her collarbone, "'M here, baby. I'll give y'anything y'want." 
His words were nothing more than smeared rambles, but they sank perfectly into her brain. He was here—he had her. He wasn't a silly video, he was real and she could feel his weight and his touch and even his heartbeat. 
"I want—" she stumbled, her words failing her in the heat of the moment, "I need—Please, touch me." 
"I am touching you, baby," he countered, looking up at her through his lashes before finally leveling his gaze with hers. He hovered above her, his eyes still finding hers even as he jostled her with every thrust into her. "Y'need to tell me what y'want, and then I can help."
"My—It's—"
(Y/N) almost felt panicked, instead reaching for his hand on her breast to push it down to the apex of her thighs. His wrist strained under her hand when he realized when she was directing him towards. That was all the cue he needed before his thumb was smearing over her clit, circling and patting the bud just as she had wanted. 
All but melting into the mattress, the beginnings of a cocky curl fell on his lips. "This was what y'wanted, my love? Coulda jus' told daddy—would have done it for you earlier." 
Maybe it was feeling him splitting her walls open, slick with his precum, his hand on her clit, or the sound of his voice wrapped around his honorific, but (Y/N) could feel the bow in her abdomen tightening. 
She could only whine for him, tightening her fingers around the bones of his wrist as he kept his ministrations up. His skin glimmered in a sheen of sweat, baby curls sticking to his temples as he took care of her just as he promised. 
He caught her looking, matching his eyes to hers when she dared to travel her gaze to his clumped lashes. She expected a curl of his lips, a flash in his eyes, something teasing and smug to enter his expression. Instead, she saw the way his face rounded out, the harsh angles that usually made him up now fading into soft lines and curved edges. 
"I love you," he murmured, "So much, (Y/N). You know that?" 
This was a moment she wished she had on video, exactly from her perspective with every detail memorialized. 
Releasing her hands on his wrist and arm, she settled her palms on his cheeks. Despite the rocking of their forms, the rustling bedsheets, and his phone lost somewhere at seat, (Y/N) almost forgot about everything but his touch. 
"I love you too, honey." 
Something flashed through his gaze then, but it was decidedly softer, more delicate than anything she had ever spotted before. She never called him by many pet names, preferring his name (it was the name of the man she was in love with, she couldn't think of a better thing to call him), but there were moments she thought he might like the extra love falling from her lips.
Harry didn't waste any longer than a beat before he was smearing his lips against hers. The kiss was messy and clumsy, just off center with his tongue swiping out before she was ready, but she loved it. This was what she wanted, what had been on her mind throughout the video. 
He put more of himself into her, his hips picking up pace and his hand on her clit quickening. She felt the press of his chest every time he sank in deep inside her, splitting her walls and making more room for him than she even knew she had. Her insides clenched around him, sucking him deeper every time he sank back inside. The ribbon in her stomach was beginning to fray at the edges, unravelling more and more.
"B-Baby," Harry breathlessly crooned, pulling away just enough so she could hear, "Where do y'want m'cum? 'M al-almost there—fuck." 
She didn't have to think before she was answering him, "Inside, inside. Please, daddy. I want it inside."
There was one more twitch of his cock inside her, his head nudging against what felt like her stomach, before there was nothing left of her to give. The fraying ribbon gave way, spooling too tight inside before falling apart. She shredded around him, feeling like nothing more than glimmering fabric laying in his arms for him to toss and turn whichever way he wanted. She could feel herself grow wetter, Harry's cock slicking through her opening. 
(Y/N) clung to him, her hands on his cheeks keeping him close as she attempted to kiss him through her hazy mind. It was nothing more than her gaped mouth dropped open against his own, nothing more than absent calls of his name falling from her throat. 
Barely, she could hear Harry mumbling a declaration—that he loved her—over and over against her mouth. She felt entirely too full, everything too much, when she realized he was cumming. Just as she had begged, he let go inside her, painting her walls in pumps of his cum that mixed with her own. She wouldn't be surprised to feel the aftermath dripping over her thighs. 
By the time Harry's bedroom came back to fruition around her, (Y/N) wasn't sure if she had been breathing properly since he landed atop her. Everything around her was wispy, not quite real, other than Harry himself. He was a comforting weight, an anchor she clung to. 
Sinking atop her, he rested his cheek on top of her chest. His nose skimmed her throat as he nuzzled closer to her, the length of his lashes tickling her bare chest. 
"Y'alright, love?" he murmured, just as out of breath as she was. 
"Mhm," she hummed, wrapping her arms around him in a clumsy hug, "I love you too, by the way." 
A rumbling laugh fell from his chest. "Love you more." 
With a small kiss being pressed to her sternum, harry began to untangle himself from her hold. He righted her shirt on her torso, covering her chest and keeping out the call that was beginning to seep over their sweat-glimmered skin now that the sheets had slid off of them.
"Where are you going?" she almost whined, reaching for him when he shifted out from between her cushioning hips. 
His smile was tender, affection swimming in his lightening gaze as he looked at her. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, keeping her features clear for his admiration. "We've gotta clean up, love. Can't go to bed like this, can we?" 
Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) didn't want to answer him. He was right—she needed to use the restroom and find a different pair of underwear for the night, while Harry inevitably searched for new sheets to change the bed into. But she didn't want to do that right now. She didn't want to walk around on wobbly legs, and go through her designated drawer, or anything else. She didn't want to touch anything that wasn't him. 
Instead, (Y/N) clung to him, using her weight to tug him down until he finally relented. Harry gave in with a sigh though he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. 
"Five more minutes, 'kay?" he bargained, cuddling her into him with her face in his throat and chin on the crown of her head. He even tugged the sheet up to blanket their forms once more, keeping her warm before patting her hip through the material.
(Y/N) smiled, pecking a small kiss to his neck. 
"Five more minutes." 
She'd stretch it until ten. 
—————
I finally got around to this request so thank you for everyone bein patient!!!! thank you for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if there's any ideas or requests you have send them in !!!
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stargirlfics · 23 days
Text
So Much Goddamn Talkin’
Joel Miller x Black F!Reader
Summary: Sometimes Joel has to quiet the noise in your head. Luckily he’s quite good at that.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, post outbreak—Jackson era, mutual pining, friends to lovers vibe, established relationship, some mentions of anxiety, feelings and fluff, competency kink, soft dom!joel vibes, smut: oral (both receiving), fingering, soft intense PiV, unprotected sex, praise kink, daddy kink, come marking
*reader is written and described as black but anyone is welcome and encouraged to read!
Word Count: 6k
Currently obsessed with the thought of older, domestic Joel in a relationship and couldn’t stop myself from getting carried away! Enjoy!
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It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d ever spoken to Joel.
On the contrary, what had started as a timid friendship became something else entirely with one spontaneous kiss that only the stars bore witness to that night. 
A silly dream of romance had landed right in your lap despite the crumbling of the old world behind you, taking everything with it and yet they took your breath away constantly, like a whirlwind, two grounding anchors were now tethered to your heart and their names were Joel and Ellie. 
So why were you so nervous? 
Sighing softly, you decided to blame it on the watchful glances Joel was giving you from across the yard, distracting you from the book you were reading. Eye contact with him could feel like the most searing heat, spreading like wildfire and at the same time the deepest depths of comfort. 
Not always being a man of many words, the things he could express with a simple look or the weight of a hand fascinated you, made you fall so dangerously hard and with a certainty you’d never felt before. 
Therefore you reasoned it simply couldn’t be your fault for being distracted and wanting him so much right now. Not when he made you feel this way without even having to try very hard. 
You just needed to take a moment to soak it all in, a blooming hope carried in on the breeze now that it was the beginning of spring in Jackson, the wildflowers and planted seeds starting to sprout, and the soil and your own souls teeming with life after so long spent just surviving. Now there was space for healing. 
Space for you to sit in the rocking chair Joel had worked on for months as a birthday present to you, or watch him get around to all the house projects (because once a contractor always a contractor) and strum out the prettiest chords on his guitar late in the evenings out on the porch. 
This felt more like living and you never wasted a moment to covet it. 
“You’re doing an awful lot of staring, Miller.” You looked up from the same page for the fifth time to catch him already looking your way. 
He blinked and put another nail into the wood post he was working on. 
“Hm, well damn right I am when you look the way you do. Now if I told you it’s been at least ten minutes since you’ve turned a page in that book you just might have to admit you’ve been starin’ too.” 
There was that little smirk you knew so well, dancing on his lips as if he knew just how much it would drive you crazy, the confirmation that you hadn’t been subtle in the slightest either. 
“Well, you’re out here giving me a show.” You make a point to turn to the next page then, looking away before he could throw you a look at the sass in your tone. 
He was right of course but what he didn’t know was that reading had started all this to begin with. 
The tattered novel had been a surprise find on a patrol one day and came with an unexpected eroticism, bits of dialogue and tantalizing imagery on the page you were stuck on making your mind wander and wonder. 
It’s why you felt a little nervous, caught off guard, suddenly wishing you were in bed and underneath him. 
He flashes his teeth at you, that smirk widening into a smile at your reply, his attention returning to the tools in his hands but your own continued to linger. Remembering. 
A few nights before in particular, when he was fucking into you so deep you had to bite the sheets to keep your moans down. You could still picture the definition of his arms as they cradled you and kept the headboard from colliding into the wall at the same time. 
Or how good you knew it felt when his broad palms swat across your ass, never failing to make you yield to him with such eagerness. 
You wished you could have your hands on him now, petting, feeling, showing him how much he was desired and cared for, how much you wanted to be filled by him, stretched out and aching with nothing but his name in your mind and on the tip of your tongue for hours.
Those stray thoughts had you turning back a page, leaning into the slow burning fire lit underneath you. 
Still unsure of how to initiate these desires, you didn’t want to distract him from something he’d been trying to get around to doing for awhile and at the same time felt a thrill at the idea of tugging him away, leading him to bed. 
With some hesitation you decided to bide your time for a bit longer, getting caught up in words that made you squirm imagining Joel doing and saying them. 
God, you weren’t sure how much more of this you could keep up, feeling the slick pooling of arousal between your thighs, the way you wanted to grind against nothing already. 
Joel finished repairing the post in no time and moved on to patch up a hole in the wall of the old shed, unaware of your internal dilemma. 
Eventually he gathered up his tools and stored them away, told you he was gonna head in and wash up but that you should keep relaxing out here for as long as you wanted and he’d get started on preparing things for dinner later. 
He left you with a kiss to your temple and the lingering familiarity of his touch. Handsome and sweet, he was going to be the death of you. 
Your mind felt too restless to keep sitting but you took him up on the suggestion just for awhile longer, trying to find the right way to move things in the direction you wanted. Family dinner wasn’t for another four hours and Ellie would be here a bit early but there was still time and you wanted to make the most of it. 
So you finished off another chapter and finally closed the novel, ushered inside with the echo of birdsongs and the steady thumping of your heart in your ribs. 
Joel had been so sure you hadn’t noticed his repeated stares as much as he’d noticed yours, bowing his head under the warm spray of the shower he could only think of how pretty you looked sitting there while he worked, fond of the fact that you liked to be next to him even if he was occupied.  
At first he couldn’t wrap his head around it and was almost too unnerved and bewildered by the fact that you took such an interest. 
Not at all used to someone touching him or looking at him like he was their entire world but that’s the only way you looked at him and as much as he had tried to be measured, tried not to get attached, he had come around to the idea of a relationship again. 
Loving people was frightening, something he felt he’d lost the ability to do properly after all these years, all the blood staining his hands and his conscience.
He had lost so much, seen too much death and feared he would only bring ruin, that he would lose her too, until you came along and turned everything he thought he knew on its head. 
Oh what secrets and stories of loss he had told you in the quiet of night, when old nightmares and new guilts collided and kept him from sleeping though that was much less these days now that you slept by his side every night. 
It had been a long time since he’d shared his bed and now it made him smile thinking of how natural it felt to wake up next to you, how easy it was to be around you, in the quiet moments he could see how the foundations you’d both built together had been made solid and steadfast over time. 
Silly to think how he fretted over ruining his friendship with you all that time ago, the way everyone was sick of him in the days leading up to when he would finally ask if you were interested because they all knew he had nothing to worry about and those worries in his head were swiftly put to rest when you tugged at his shirt to pull him closer and asked what had taken him so long.
He’d never forget that moment. 
Joel thought then that this was the moment he knew but quickly learned there would actually be a collection of moments–several times a day–that would remind him just how hooked on you he really was.
Like the times he showed his age and your sweet giggles and clever retorts always followed soon after, or how much he’s come to love the summertime because your brown skin basked in the sunlight is like art to him and he relishes every chance he gets to see you exactly as you are.
You brought a fullness and meaning to life here, encouraging him to slow down, to breathe. Taking care of one another made him stronger, nourished in ways he didn’t think were possible.  
“Honey.”
He grits the word out like he’s trying to call you up here, reminded of how lucky he felt to have you, to be so connected.
Watching you walk around batting your eyes acting like you don’t know that it’s the pretty, round edges of your nose, the smile lines, the plush of your hips and that glowing thing inside you beating in your chest that drives him crazy. 
Simply put, he was impressed by you. Constantly. You could handle yourself, skilled in your own right, already handy with weapons long before he was in your life and even more proficient now, deadly, with the things he’d taught you since. 
You were resourceful and calm in tricky situations or when quick medical training was needed and yet none of the carnage of infected and worse terrors ever changed the soft way you tended to people, almost like you couldn’t help but give a little extra love. 
And you had certainly spared many an ounce of that love for him; he’d forgotten how good it felt to smile this much over someone, can’t remember the last time he felt this way and definitely can’t remember the last time he’s seen his Ellie look at someone with such admiration either. 
Everything about you captured his attention and he was grateful to be able to live some sort of life again after so much heartache, after believing he could never have these kinds of things for himself. 
Those hands of his could scorch the Earth but you made him understand they could build things too, could show love and give pleasure just as well and just as fiercely. 
Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job of it. 
All he knew was that he never wanted to let you go and that was enough for him. 
When you venture into the bedroom you find him getting dressed, hair tousled from being towel dried, another wave of aching bloomed in your core as you thank yourself for having nudged him into letting it grow out a bit during the colder months. 
He looked so handsome doing nothing at all in particular you were sure you’d implode if you didn’t just come out with it, you just hope he wouldn’t mind doing some undressing again. 
“Hey, honey.” 
His voice was low and gentle, the familiar pet name in his usual smooth rasp made you stride forward, sending you surging into his arms so that you were squished against his chest. He tilted his head at you just slightly in question before you were pressing your lips to his.
Your mouths met so tenderly at first, fingertips bursting with a nervous energy as they reached for his shirt, grasping needily as you lost yourself in the slow ease of the way he kissed you back.
But a little spark of anxiety makes you tense, overthinking the kiss, feeling a little silly for just how turned on you were, how much he could see it written all over you, dripping quite literally in desperation even if you tried to reason with yourself that you knew there wasn’t anything wrong with that. 
“J-Joel…shit,” you whined and huffed through sloppy kisses, slowly finding yourself being walked backwards and held firm against the closest wall, “Oh…we don’t have to do this if-” 
“The hell are you goin’ on about?” Joel grumbled against the column of your neck and all ability to articulate went out the window.
Rationally you knew it was a pretty good indication he wasn’t bothered by the spontaneity from the way those strong hands of his were already underneath your shirt, pinching almost in the haste to grip your flesh but you were already overthinking and it held persistent. 
“Just…if you’re tired, I understand. We can wait till tonight. I don’t want you to feel obligated.” Your words were huffed out in nervous gasps, trying to will your knees not buckle when his scruff teased a swipe across your jaw. 
Joel pulled back then so you’d have to look at him, knowing the anxious flit of your lashes well. 
He knew what to watch for, patient when you needed reassurance that you were free to run wild with your desires, that he was never tired of having you bare and wrapped around him at any hour of the day but this was of no consequence, he’d make sure you knew where he stood.
Shaking his head, he doesn’t give you more than a moment to suck in a breath before his hands leave your waist to hold your face. 
“So much goddamn talkin’, sweetheart,” the words are a heavy growl against your lips in between heavier kisses, “Think I need to remind you of some things and put those thoughts out of your mind, yeah?” 
Your whole body felt hot, flushed with desire and aching for whatever he was going to do to remind you, nodding before your tongue could catch up with your agreeing thoughts. 
“Let me show you.” Joel caged you in against the wall, broad shoulders blocking everything else out. 
The steady rise and fall of his chest became your focal point and new arousal sparked at his attentiveness, so easily able to soothe, to make you unravel for him. 
“Please, I want you so much.” Your softly sighed plea turned into a whine when you were crushed to his chest again and this time there were no reservations to the embrace.
He was so good at this, making you burn for him so often you wondered sometimes how you were able to get anything done.
Hungry fingers pushed the collar of his flannel back, jeans already unbuttoned for your wandering attention to latch onto and he encouraged it with a push of his hips against yours. 
It’s an easy movement, dropping to your knees like you’ve done a hundred times before to see how just a simple kiss already had him stiff and straining against denim, teasing the kind of thickness you so badly wanted to fill your throat with. 
Your mouth watered, fingers outstretched to wrap around hot skin the moment his cock was free, unable to stop yourself now. Joel’s rough sigh following the steady pump of your hands made you glance up, meeting the intensity of his gaze and you held it there for a moment before your tongue was tasting him. 
“Look at you...already have it in your mouth like the quick learner you are,” He hissed through his teeth and you could feel where he throbs against the hollow of your cheek. 
Pride swells in your chest from the praise, knowing the tone of his voice meant the restrained edge of patience from letting you tease him back was slipping.
You could feel it in the flex of muscle underneath your hands where they’re braced on his thighs and you hoped he was proud watching your lips stretch around him, head bobbing nice and easy the way you know he liked it.
You’re unconcerned with being neat about it, slicking him up with your mouth and still trying to take him deeper, trying to take all of him in fact. 
You liked to flirt with dreams of your nose being pressed snug against Joel’s pelvis, wanted to feel him through your entire chest even if burned because there was sweetness in being deprived of oxygen like that. Call it an unwavering trust. 
You gave in to the feeling and kept your eyes focused upwards on him, trying to relax your jaw despite all the anticipation, happy to let him take control. 
“That’s it, that’s my girl. Stay just like that.” 
Listening is hardly even a thought when you’ve hung onto his every word, every movement, not minding the strain in your jaw as he rocked his hips into the wet heat of your mouth. Tongue swirling over his shaft, the thick head of him, desperate to earn it, to make him curse and growl out your name. 
The pressure of his fingers against your jaw and then the back of your head had you moaning, trying to speak while he fucks your mouth. 
“P-please, make me take it.” Your heart lept with each languid thrust of his hips sliding deep so he could feel the softening of your throat.
He’d give you whatever you asked for when you whimpered like that. 
Firm and sweet was his grip, raspy grunts and cursed out praises that flowed from his mouth even sweeter to your ears as your tongue slid over the soft, sensitive head of his cock and back down the length of him. 
You’re insatiable and any anxious thoughts still rattling around in your mind were quickly fading, replaced with his touch, his smell, his taste. The salty smear on your taste buds had you pressing your thighs together, craving relief.
“Good girl, yeah that’s it. Startin’ to understand now, sweetheart?” 
Your head tipped forward and the only response you could give was a heady moan, doing your best to nod knowing how much he’d like seeing that, the tears already welling along your lashes from the effort but you didn’t mind.
Knowing you made him tip his head back, a heavy palm braced against the wall above your head while he grunted out curses and filthier praise made you feel a dozen more times ravenous, encouraging him to keep going with sloppy, wet whimpers that were barely held back from your kiss swollen lips, stretched over every thick inch of him you could take. 
“Love watching you choke on it, honey. Fuck that's good, show me how much you can fit.” 
The sight of him is something you hoped to never forget, searching for and finding the slight snarl of his lips when the tip hits the back of your mouth and the flex of his biceps when you slide your tongue around to lick the underside of him. 
Joel could barely hold himself back, the urge to bury himself in your throat almost overwhelming but he wanted more than that, he wanted to reward you for listening so well, for how much you make him feel.  
It had been building all day and he knew you had to feel it too. He was loath to pull you off his cock, an ache through his chest at your desperate cries from the loss of contact but he was quick to remedy that with a searing kiss.  
You melt and are grateful your knees are already on the floor when your tongue meets his. It was so messy, hungry and neither of you cared. 
“Get on the bed. Go on, darlin’.” Joel’s voice sounded like warm syrup, covering you in adoring instruction, taking you and leading you where he knows is best. 
And god do you love when he was in this mood, nothing but a filthy edge to his affections. 
So you complied, ignoring the twinge in your tummy as you moved to the bed, sprawling out across sheets that smell like the both of you. 
He watches you get comfortable, loosening a few buttons and those jeans finally discarded on the floor before the distance is closed and he’s all over you. 
Every touch and caress was intentional as he undresses like he’s unwrapping a present, greedy for all of you but so passionate, so easily able to steal your breath at the same time, slowing down the tempo now that your legs have fallen open and there’s nothing left covering you. 
“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy…and she’s all mine.” Joel admires you for a moment, firm hands tickling your thighs while his thumbs circled the soft, sensitive junction of your thigh so close to where you wanted him most. 
The praise has you sighing breathlessly, peeking down to see the way he was looking at where you glisten, a sureness to his features that made you feel safe all while the clench of his jaw sent goosebumps across your arms.
You want to echo that he’s right but he doesn’t let you have the chance, a broad palm sliding down over the hair covering your mound, tugging at it gently before two thick fingers are swirling over your folds. 
Muscles jolting, you were rocking up into a touch that is so expert and familiar you are helpless against it.
“Joel, oh! That feels so good,” You’re panting, trying to catch your breath while your body responds to the tight circles he was rubbing against your clit.
“Yeah? ‘Can tell. You’re so slick, honey. Did suckin’ me off get you this worked up?” 
Your nod is pure reflex, hips grinding against his movements needing to chase the pleasure that was slowly oozing its way into your system. 
It’s only something he can do and he’s so steady, so thorough with you even as you squirm, those two fingers now stroking at your entrance eliciting sounds that sparked heat in your cheeks and spread down to your chest. 
You want to be as connected to him as you can, almost pleading for him to sink inside you already just desperate to feel completely surrounded by him. 
And Joel can’t seem to grasp enough of you under his hands, gone for the way you cling to him as he fits his middle finger inside, marveling at the way your walls take him in. 
He would never get over your strangled little cry at being stretched around his knuckles. 
“I asked a question, lemme hear you.” He spoke a little more loosely, his Texan drawl slightly heavier now. 
“Yes, yes,” you’re remembering yourself after a moment, “Fuck, yes I love sucking your dick.” 
The words are shameless, falling from your lips as a promise, a proclamation that you know he feels the weight of when he leans in to kiss you again, muffling your sounds while he slides a second finger in alongside the first that’s filling you so perfectly. 
Any concept of time or day is somewhere in the background muted, far away and suddenly you know you’re right where you should be, right where you belong, no traces of anxious thoughts lurking any longer.   
You could sink into these sensations now, enjoying how his kisses had moved to your neck exploring the sensitive spots and smiling against your skin when a new one is found because he loves feeling you clench around him when he does. 
It’s a gift to Joel, being able to draw out this kind of bliss in you. 
He wanted you to feel good, wanted to be the one to make your world shatter and then piece it back together again when you came down to the ground. 
Your eyes rolled shut when he plunged deeper, the pads of his fingers massaging at your walls in tandem with what his mouth was doing between the valley of your chest and further down to where your stomach fluttered. 
Somewhere in the haze of it all you realize his mouth was at your thighs, the white hot touch of his lips closing around a stretch of supple flesh bringing another wave of heat before he’s licking gently, bruising a mark into your skin that only he will know is there later. 
“I could spend hours like this, you know that? Could have you makin’ such a pretty mess all over my hands, all over our bed…and I know you love when I do this.” Joel husks before he’s finally tasting you properly. 
He starts at your clit, tongue flattened against you in anticipation of the inevitable flex of your legs, determined to keep you right where he wants and you’re already so far gone for him and this moment that your head tilts back against the pillows in a gasp. 
You feel almost weightless as you succumb to the pleasure and how he presses his mouth into your pussy like he wants to devour it. You’re sure you’d let him swallow you whole if it kept feeling like this. 
It’s not even a question really, you know you would, until you’re between sinew and bone and part of him forever. 
The plunge and curl of his fingers combined with the flick of his tongue had you panting, heat skittering across your body while your hips circled on their own accord.
“More! Please, Joel!” It’s a chant and a sob all rolled in one and you don’t care how needy it sounds. 
He keeps going, lapping at your sex greedily until you’re clenching down around his fingers and your toes are curling, crying out for him not to stop as you hurtle towards the cliff’s edge.
Skin dewy and alive, you decide that you don’t want to spare anything, not when he’s watching you as hungrily as he eats. 
You give him all your sounds, all your pleas, handing him your body and your heart at once. 
It’s amazing how it doesn’t take long for him to have you so close, right at the precipice, forgoing his own breaths to keep pace, to give you what your body is singing out for and when you finally let go, when your orgasm is finally coaxed from you he only presses his face into you further, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could in hopes of seeing that soft sweet look in your eyes afterwards.
“Attagirl, doin so well.” The words are a tether. 
He’d take care of you and that’s perhaps what made it so easy to surrender yourself to the passion of the moment knowing it would linger long after you were both spent. 
“Mmm you should see yourself right now,” Joel hummed, licking his lips while you attempted to catch your breath, “I always want you, don’t forget that yeah?” 
The last part catches your attention through the curtain of bliss, a serious shift in his tone telling you that he meant every word; you had no reason to second guess yourself over your desires and he was making sure of that. 
You nodded and sat up to reach for him, nevermind how you still trembled, your desire to be close to him was stronger than ever now. 
“I need you, Joel! Please, I’ve been so good…” Your words tug at him, you can tell they do by the way he ruts his hips against the edge of the bed. 
He crushed his mouth to yours before you could finish speaking, a much welcome relief, the burning flame inside you quelled for a moment. 
“Sure have been, honey and I think good girls should be rewarded.” He nipped at your ear, stealing your breath with his words. 
And even further when his flannel joined his jeans on the floor, climbing back onto the bed to follow the path of your body with his own, framing your limbs and wrapping you up in his embrace like you were made to fit against his chest. 
Your legs fall open again to wrap around his waist as he settles some of his weight down against your hips, just giving you a taste, calling back memories and reminding you, funnily enough, of that novel you were reading earlier. 
It felt like you were suddenly amongst the pages, chest heaving, your core tender and dripping as the man of your dreams was about to show you how much you’re his in every way.
Fairytales didn’t exist in this world but you felt like you were in one right now.
A giddy and timid smile spread across your face when Joel trailed warm hands down your body, catching on the bend of your elbow, wrapping around your ribcage to settle on the crest of your ass as he puts more of his weight down and uses his shoulders to nudge your legs apart and back towards your chest. 
The air felt thicker but your breathing seemed to even out, everything in your body thrumming with energy and an intensity neither of you could ignore any longer. 
Reaching down between your bodies you wrap a hand around where he’s thick and throbbing, guiding him closer with a soft smile, feeling how heavy he hangs in your hand, fingers pinching his skin when he rocks against your folds, the dirty sounds of his cock gliding through your stickiness. 
Joel groans against your forehead, holding himself steady as your hips buck into his touch, the tip pressing against your entrance and finally, slowly, sinking inside. 
Your moans are twined together in the quiet room. The stretch makes you keen, hands fumbling and grasping at strong shoulders, grateful he lets you have a moment to adjust. 
But it’s not long before you’re squirming again, whining for him to go deeper, to fill you to the hilt and he made good on his promises to do exactly that. 
He keeps your hips tilted up with the press of his palm underneath you, meeting little resistance the more he splits you open and it does something to him to see how much of a mess you are and he’s barely fucked you yet. 
“You can do it, know you can…there you go.” Joel pulls back to give a shallow thrust, lips brushing your temple and a hand coming up to cradle your cheek. 
The drag of his cock against your walls was everything, steady thrusts building up the tension coiling in your belly, fantasies from your novel melding with reality.
You felt like you were floating, your toes pointing when he changed the angle, brushing against a spot that had you crying out, ankles trying to lock around his torso.
Pressing heavier and faster with his hips however, your legs stay spread, the beginnings of a tremble rippling through your muscles now that he’s caught on. 
His pace remained measured and deep, just the way you were begging for it, and he’s content to watch your brows pinch, your jaw slacken, content to hear every gasp of air and pretty sobs  mixed in with your moans driving him crazy every time they slip from clenched teeth. 
“Shit, I love watching you take me like this.” He cooed. 
You can feel the heavy slap of his balls colliding with your ass when he pounds into you again and soon your hands slip from sweaty skin, scratching down his chest to pull at the sheets, so overwhelmed with feeling but never wanting it to stop.
“Daddy...Please, please keep going.”
You’re so caught up in the moment you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud, glassy eyes moving up from where you were trying to peek between your bodies to meet Joel’s careful gaze, only half registering how they widen for a moment. 
He’s taken aback for just a second, almost questioning whether he heard it correctly but something’s been knocked loose within him now, his cock twitching from the reverence and adoration in your tone, bestowing him with a title he suddenly wanted to earn. 
Joel was a grown man and had lived through many hells to be able to have you bare and underneath him like this, he reasoned he deserved to have a little fun in the bedroom especially when he hadn’t expected to be so affected.
“Ah so that’s what you’ve been reading in that book of yours. Just wanted Daddy to fuck you all day is that it, sweetheart? Yeah, I gotcha now.” He rasped low against the crook of your neck and started to fuck you harder. 
His grip on you was less gentle but still just as passionate, the force of his thrusts stealing your ability to think properly. He wanted to make you say it again. 
The burning in your cheeks only subsided a little at his acceptance, more heat flooding you from head to toe at being called out, wondering how he knew it was something you read in your novel, if it had been that obvious. 
It didn’t matter now, you see where his dark eyes have narrowed, ready to make you come again with this newfound discovery. 
So you try and be good for him while you moan and clench down on his length, your pussy swollen and aching but tingling for everything he could give you, “Yes, daddy! Just…oh! I couldn’t help it. Thank you, daddy!” 
He knows you’re close, a familiar frenzy to your breathing, the slick wet sounds between your legs, it’s everything he dreams of and more, torn between watching your face as you come or watching the way his cock shines with your release. 
With a few more strokes and the soft rubbing of his thumb against your clit you shatter, face pressing against the meat of his shoulder while you ride it out, feeling weightless in his embrace. 
It makes you giggle when you can’t keep your head up any longer, neck lolling back against the pillow where he cradles your head in his hands, keeping you in place as he finds his own release swiftly after yours, pulling out to cover your puffy folds in hot ropes of his come. 
You would never tire of being made a mess, even if you knew you’d be sore tomorrow, nothing quite ever beat the feeling of being fucked out like the way Joel could have you.
“Baby…” you’re breathless and bursting with emotion, “Thank you for that. Think I really needed it,” You laugh against his chest and sigh.
You’re almost too nervous still to look at him after your slip of the tongue but you know deep down there’s nothing you have to be worried about. 
“Of course, honey. Anytime, and I mean that.” 
You’re not sure how much time has passed, drifting in and out of a dreamy slumber still cradled against Joel, only now you realize you’ve been cleaned up and tucked under the covers but you don’t mind, you know you can simply lay here and soak it all in, he would take care of you. 
Racing thoughts no longer buzz around in your head, all you can feel and see is Joel and you smile to yourself knowing the intimacy you just shared still lingered in your body, love etched in your fingertips where they’re laced in his hand against his stomach. 
His lips press against your temple and you close your eyes again letting yourself be swept away with the sweet drawl of an “I love you.” in your ears and the gentle evening sun warming you both.
A/N: This was actually lowkey inspired by that scene where Joel is leading Ellie, Henry and Sam down the street after they come out of the tunnels and Joel just shakes his head and goes “so much goddamn talkin’.’ while looking like an annoyed father because they’re all being too loud…got very hung up on that bit of dialogue and could not let it go so here we are!
Also hope I added the daddy kink bit here in tastefully, it’s a fave of mine and I struggled a bit to think of how to incorporate it in a way that felt real for Joel so I only just dipped my toe in with it here but I hope you liked it! 👀
Thank you for reading <3
some no pressure tags! 💫 @eupheme @ozarkthedog @moreofem @tinydramatist @black-fairy3 @federalchickensoup @fluffyprettykitty @persona-enthusiast @moonstruksandco @ghotifishreads @communism-bitches
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polarisjisung · 1 month
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PETNAMES NCT DREAM WOULD USE
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pairings: nct dream x fem!reader
genre: fluff
wc: 0.7k
warnings: hopefully none
notes: this is a little shorter than usual but if you couldn't tell already I'm a sucker for petnames (if you think they're cringy you're just painfully single 😤) so I HAD to make this
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MARK — my girl/babe
now mark's a chill laid back guy, and he loves you like crazy but he also doesn't see any need in extravagant nicknames or petnames and he sticks to the classics, he probably won't address you by your name for the most part so he'll just stick to babe. sweet and simple
"that's my girl" is such a classic mark thing, he gets proud over the smallest things you do, he's like your personal cheerleader. It could be something so small as flipping an egg without breaking the yolk and mark would be ecstatic.
RENJUN — darling
nicknames are serious business for renjun, every now and then he'll call you babe but to him it feels too casual— most likely it'll be something very specific to your relationship and how you met but if not he loves darling, it feels the most endearing to him.
JENO — baby/angel/gorgeous
for the most part jeno will stick to baby, sometimes babe but in his softest moments he'll go for angel— it's unconscious really.
but to jeno you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, like his own personal angel— somehow you always know what to do/say when he's feeling down and he's never met someone like that before. you're unique and somehow everything you do feels perfect to jeno, he thinks your soul is so pure, you're his angel.
on occasion jeno will throw a quick but calculated "good morning gorgeous" your way— mainly because it has you absolutely falling apart to the point where you can't even form coherent sentences, but jeno thinks it's cute
HAECHAN — sunshine/sunflower/honey
you bring out the best in him, you're his motivation and you give him so much energy for performances and his idol life, especially when things get tough so calling you his sunshine just feels right to haechan.
haechan probably throws around a lot of nicknames with you, sometimes some a little too weird, but he knows it'll get you smiling
"hey snookums" he'd say casually as he enters the room
"are you talking to me hyuck?"
he'd nod eagerly and you can't help but giggle at his dorky smile
"I love you but please, never call me that again" best believe he'll stick to that nickname for the rest of the week
and of course every time he steps through the door, haechan has to announce "honey, I'm home" like hes in some american sitcom, as if you didn't see him pull up in the drive and hear his keys jingle as he unlocked the door— you love him either way
JAEMIN — princess/pretty
sure jaemin thinks he's a princess but you? you're like the princess of all princesses. plus jaemin feels the need to remind you of your worth day in and day out— you're a princess and so you deserve to be treated like one, given jaemin's practically a king at princess treatment, you'd consider it appropriate
jaemin thinks you're pretty no doubt. in some moments, especially when you don't quite share the same opinion, jaemin will be the first one to remind you, and if you're feeling down "hey pretty look at me" he'd say in that soft low tone of his that's so awfully comforting, with two hands on your shoulder before giving you the pep talk of a lifetime
CHENLE — babe/baby
chenle's not much of a petnames guy aside from a casual babe/baby here and there but you suppose that's what makes it all the more special when he does use them
he much prefers to have a nickname for you that's exclusive to him than using petnames, but if its something you're into he'll definitely try and step up his game, also if he gets teased by his members for calling you by your name
a jealous chenle uses all the petnames under the sun— anything to make it clear you're his girl
JISUNG — (my) love/beautiful
jisung is usually soft spoken but too shy to throw around "I love/like you's" without becoming a blushing mess so his favourite way to subtly remind you just how much you mean to him are through petnames. he truly thinks you're beautiful inside and out, so it's one of the first names he addresses you with.
he likes to switch it up, testing and seeing which ones your smile grows the widest at. he decides love feels right. after all, you were the person who taught him all about it.
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yandere-fetish · 2 months
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Yandere Ballerino X Female Reader
Part One
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Yandere Ballerino visits his regular gym and while lifting weights, he comes across a cute (H/C) woman; You. He can't take his eyes off you while you stretch your limbs out, getting ready for the intense workout you're about to put yourself through.
Yandere Ballerino is too focused on your assets to realize he's half-ass weight lifting. It gets so bad that his personal trainer, who comes back from another client, has to yell his name loud enough to catch his attention, which in turn catches your attention.
You two lock eyes before turning away.
Yandere Ballerino swears his heart bursts from his chest at your quick look. He dubs you as shy beauty now.
Yandere Ballerino can't help but blush red after your sudden expression when you notice his naked body. He automatically wants to see more of your facial expressions and experience different faces from you.
Yandere Ballerino gets mad when he's forced to focus on his strength training instead of the pretty thang that’s working the stair stepper at the moment. He continues to sneak peaks at you when his trainer wasn't paying attention— which was rare since the trainer was dedicated to his job.
You never notice the wandering eyes that stall on your figure, nor do you hear the forlorn sigh coming from his mouth at the sight of your ass bouncing up and down.
Oh, how he could only see the sight of you bouncing on his dick— wait.
What is he thinking? He shouldn't be sexualizing you! He shouldn't be paying attention to the way your breasts move when you jog on the treadmill or the way your waist looks so flexible when you're exercising on the balance ball.. but how can he stop when you're all ready so tempting on the elliptical?
He silently lamented over what other workouts you could make tantalizing.
Yandere Ballerino becomes a mess when he can't find you in the gym after so long. It gets to the point where he cancels his session with the personal trainer and asks the front desk about you.
Yandere Ballerino immediately whispers your name when the receptionist tells it to him after sliding a hundred dollar bill his way.
Yandere Ballerino walks away after getting what he needs from the receptionist. He grins and repeats your name as if it were his new mantra.
“(Y/N).. (Y/N). *smiles* It suits her.”
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It's been a whole week since he saw you.
Yandere Ballerino has been non stop distracted since he saw you for the first time. Wondering about you keeps him from getting his much needed sleep, focus on staying in shape, practice for the numerous positions and steps of the upcoming shows, and even having his nutrition off balance.
He was becoming obsessed with you and he's never even spoken a word to you.
Yandere Ballerino finally expresses his feelings to his teacher and mentor, desperately needing the advice.
“Teacher.. I don't know what to do! She plagues my mind with every second I'm not near her! I can't even pirouette without thinking about her!”
“Hmm.. and you're serious about this girl?”
“Yes! I only know her name, but she won't leave my head! What am I supposed to do? I can't sleep, I can't eat— I can't even practice right anymore!”
“Find her.”
“What?”
“Go out into the world and find her. Decan can hold your position for a few days— but nothing longer than a week! After that, if you can't find her, you must forget her.”
“Oh! Thank you, Teacher! I'll make sure I come back in new spirits!”
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Yandere Ballerino constantly searches for your presence everywhere. He went to the malls, the salons, the stores, and even the few parks littered around, but he still couldn't find you.
His spirits were low and the expression on his face said it all; he'd never see you again.
Yandere Ballerino was on his last leg when he walked into a coffee shop and instead of buying a drink, he ended up wearing one.
Just before he could freak out, Yandere Ballerino sees the face of his attacker and instantly melts. It's you! It's (Y/N)! The girl he's been looking for for five days straight! God has finally answered his prayers.
He silently thanks God for what he's gone through to have the two of you meet before hearing the feminine gasp and apologies from the cutie (you) in front of him.
“I am so so sorry, sir! I promise I didn't mean to…”
“It's all right… if you let me take you out for dinner?”
“Ah, um. *blushes deeply and avoids gaze* Me?”
“*smirks* Is there anybody else around who spilled their coffee on my very expensive shirt?”
“I— I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to! I should have been watching where I was going.”
“It's okay cutie.. as long as you agree to meet with me for dinner on.. let's say— Friday?”
“Okay.. *blushes* I'll guess I can go out with you on Friday since I messed up your shirt.”
“Great! Here's my number. I'll text you, (Y/N).”
After receiving your phone number, Yandere Ballerino began sweating bullets, hoping you wouldn't catch his slip up. It was too late now to regret it, so Yandere Ballerino just gives you a dashing smile and strolls right out of the coffee shop without a coffee.
You were too starstruck at his handsome appearance and his tall physique that you didn't catch your name falling from his lips without you speaking it first. You were too happy to finally have a date after so long that you were seeing stars instead of people. Your heart races and your palms are sweaty, but you try not to get ahead of yourself since it's only a date.
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Do NOT steal from my blog. I say this so everyone can enjoy my stories without the hassle of plagiarism or infringement.
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moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
Hi! I absolutely love your page and all of your poly!marauders writing! Could I request a poly!marauders where they’re all flirting with r (like pre relationship) and because she’s never really been noticed/flirted with before she thinks they’re kind of making fun of her like it’s a big joke. Then of course she finds out that’s not the case
Thanks for requesting babe, and thanks for reading! I had no idea how long this had become until I checked the wordcount just now haha, and I feel like it got a bit awkward in some places but I hope you enjoy it :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k
As Friday nights go, this one is pretty typical. You’d arrived at the party with all of your friends, and one by one, they’d been pulled away by significant others, flirty strangers, or potential hookups. Now it’s just you, sitting on the couch and trying not to look awkward as the couple on the opposite end endeavors to swallow each other whole. 
“Hey there, gorgeous,” a familiar voice drawls, and Sirius Black sits down next to you. “Having a good time?”
You force a smile, not wanting to insult the party most likely being thrown by Gryffindor’s golden boys. “Yup.” 
“Doesn’t look like it,” he says, not unsympathetically, then nudges the curled-up form behind him. “Moony, you were really going to let this pretty thing sit here all by herself without speaking to her?”
The book they’re holding lowers, revealing Remus Lupin. His eyes start to roll as if it’s an automatic response to Sirius’ interruption, but then they fall on you. “Oh.” He blinks. “Sorry, love, I didn’t see you there.” 
You flush, sheepish and a bit resentful of being party to Sirius’ reprimand, however teasing it might be. You know Remus from the couple of classes you’ve had together, but you wouldn’t expect him to talk to you outside of those contexts. Speaking to someone that’s obligated is so much worse than speaking to no one at all. “It’s fine,” you say quietly, feeling unbearably awkward. 
“See? She’s too sweet to even hold you accountable for it,” Sirius tuts, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about him, dollface. Can I get you a drink?”
“I, um...” You look down at your empty cup, long since drained. “Sure, thanks.” 
He winks. “Be right back.” 
You expect Remus to go back to his book as Sirius struts off, but he folds the corner of his page, setting it down. 
“I really didn’t mean to ignore you,” he says, looking painfully apologetic. “How are your classes this year?”
You give him your most reassuring smile. “They’re good, thanks. And I didn’t think you were ignoring me.” You cringe. “Sorry Sirius made you put away your book on my account.” 
He looks at you with amber eyes full of kindness. “I don’t mind.” 
It’s a conscious effort to quell the ruckus in your stomach. You’d harbored a tiny, secret crush on Remus when you’d had classes together last year, and this is exactly why. He just seemed like such a sweetheart. Soft-spoken but brilliant, he never raised his hand to answer questions but always scored high on assignments, and you’d once caught him feeding answers to the girl next to him so she could win points for her house. You’d become enthralled with the way his smile would tug gently at the scars on his face, making them glint silver in the light that shone through the classroom windows, and how his eyes sparked with quiet amusement even when he wasn’t laughing.
The silence between you is stretching too long. You fumble for something to continue the conversation. “I like your sweater,” you say dumbly. 
“Yeah?” He smiles, scars flashing. “Thanks, lovely.” He lets his gaze roam over you for a moment, and you try not to squirm. “Do you want it? It’s a bit cold in here.” 
You look down, surprised to discover goose bumps covering your arms. “That’s alright,” you say, but Remus is already shrugging off his sweater, revealing the plain t-shirt underneath. “Remus, really, I’m fine.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, holding the sweater out to you and raising his eyebrows when you won’t take it. “If you don’t put it on, then neither of us will have it.” 
You watch him for a moment, but Remus doesn’t waver. You take it, giving him a look that you hope conveys both admonishment and apology. “Thank you.” 
“No problem,” he replies as you shrug it on. “Considering that this is a school of magic, it does a pretty poor job of regulating its temperature during the winter, don’t you think? Couldn’t let you just sit here and freeze, sweetheart. Sirius would kill me when he got back.” 
You pull Remus’ sleeves over your cold fingers, using the movement to avoid eye contact as your face heats. The way he’s talking to you, the pet names, it’s all so strange. You don’t get it. 
“Not to be rude,” Remus says before you can go deeper into your musings, “but I thought I saw you come in with a bunch of other girls. Where’d they all go?”
Ah. He’s talking to you because he likes one of your friends. “Oh.” You wave your hand about vaguely. “Here and there, pulled aside by various prospects. I’m sure you can find some of them if you go looking.” 
“But they left you by yourself?” He seems to disregard your friends’ whereabouts, his eyebrows coming together just a bit. “That’s not very nice. Lucky for us, though, I suppose.” 
You tilt your head, not quite sure what he means, but then Sirius returns, James Potter in tow. 
“Told you,” Sirius says as he passes you your drink, hand lingering on yours a second too long. James gives one to Remus. “She’s miserable.” 
“Can’t have that,” James replies agreeably, looking for somewhere to sit. His eyes fall on the couple behind you and he leans close to your ear. “Merlin, they’re really going at it, aren’t they?”
You laugh, and he grins at you like that was his aim all along. Meanwhile, Sirius has devised a solution to the problem of seating, making himself comfortable almost entirely in Remus’ lap. He gestures for you to come closer. You comply tentatively, scooting a couple feet towards the two of them. 
“Don’t be shy.” Sirius reaches out and grips your waist, hauling you closer until you’re pressed up against Remus’ leg and Sirius’ side, his arm remaining snugly around your waist. “We don’t bite. Unless you’re into that, of course.” 
“Pads.” Remus’ voice is stern, softened for your benefit. “Take it easy.” 
“Oh, come on,” Sirius scoffs. “I saw you putting the moves on her from over by the punch. You don’t get to have all the fun.” 
Putting the moves on you? Sirius almost makes it sound like Remus had been…flirting. Oh. You suppose maybe he had. But intentionally? Really? Sirius Black will flirt with anything, but Remus is a different story.
It must be a part of some bit they’re all doing, you realize. They are pranksters. Sirius was probably bored and in need of entertainment, and there you were, sitting all by yourself. Practically begging to be the object of his amusement. And then he’d enlisted Remus to go along with it. They’re probably all going to go back to their dorm tonight and laugh about how easily you’d fallen for it. Your face burns.
James has settled into the ample space you’ve made on the couch, allowing you a bit more room that Sirius seems willing to. “You alright, lovely? I’m sorry you haven’t been having a very good time.”
You look at him, finding nothing but sincerity in his warm brown eyes. You don’t suppose he would have been able to get away with so much if he weren’t a good actor. The last thing you’re going to do is give them more to laugh about by making a scene. “No, I’m fine. It’s a good party.” 
“Yeah?” James cocks his head like a puppy. “Well, that’s good, I guess. How’d you end up by yourself though, sweetheart?”
Remus answers for you. “Her friends left her.” 
“They’ll come back eventually,” you say hastily, then realize how pathetic that sounds. It’s all you can do not to shrink in on yourself. 
“I’m sure they are,” James says, and try as you might, you can detect no sarcasm in his tone, “but it’s still not a very considerate thing for friends to do. You seem like excellent company.” 
You scoff, taking a long sip of your drink. “Apparently not.” 
“You are,” Sirius says casually, looking at you over the rim of his cup. “I mean, I’ve only been around you for a little while, but it’s been a delightful experience for me. And Moony seems to like talking to you. That’s high praise.” 
Remus elbows Sirius but gives you one of his soft, kind looks, and it’s too much. It’s all too much. You feel like you’re being eaten alive by shame at how much you’re enjoying their attention, even if it’s all for show. 
“I have an idea,” James says, knee bumping into yours amicably. “We were going to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow to study. Would you come with? We could grab lunch together and convince you of how pleasant you are to have around.” 
You scoff. This charade has gone too far. “Yeah, right. What time should I meet you, at nine in the great hall, where everyone will be watching?” 
Who gets off on this anyway? Flirting is one thing, but all this faux kindness, just to humiliate you? It’s a cruelness beyond what you thought them capable of. 
James hesitates at your tone. “Um, yeah. Nine is good, if that works for you.”
You shake your head, crossing your arms. Sirius gets the message, removing his hand from around your waist. “This isn’t funny.” 
“It’s not supposed to be.” James looks wounded, and Remus leans forward, a concerned set to his brows. “Hey, what’s going through your head?” he asks, all concerned tenderness. 
You look between them, angry and, if you’re being honest with yourself, very hurt. “This is a prank, right? Because I was sitting alone and you were bored? Well, I don’t think it’s funny.” 
“Darling,” Remus breathes, reaching out as if to touch you but hesitating with his hand hovering just above your shoulder, “no one’s pranking you.”
Sirius shakes his head. “That’s not…we would never do something like that, and I’m sorry you think we would. Let me be clear: we want to go on a date with you tomorrow. Obviously you don’t have to, but we’d love it if you came.” 
You feel your eyebrows scrunch up, trying to right your worldview. You feel like you have whiplash. “Wait, are you serious?”
He grins, and it’s half sheepish, half wolfish. “That’s me.” 
You giggle a bit at that, and Remus works up the courage to let his hand land on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “No jokes or catches, lovely girl. I promise.” 
You send him a small smile before turning to James, who still looks like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. “I’m really sorry I accused you guys of that,” you say, guilt replacing shame at the feast of your insides. “I just…I’ve never had someone…notice me in that way before. I thought it was a joke.” 
James’ smile still bears some leftover unease, but there’s no reproach in it. “That’s alright, angel,” he says, earnest as he had been all along. “I’m sorry you thought we didn’t mean it. Let us prove it, yeah? Tomorrow?”
You beam at him, a frisson of excitement going through you. “Yeah, tomorrow.”
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barcaatthemoon · 13 days
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sunny || alexia putellas x reader ||
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alexia thinks it's going to be a bad game until she spots you.
alexia's fists were balled up at her sides as she stood in the tunnel. she was desperately trying not to become overwhelmed with frustration. she had spoken with jona at great length about this being her first full 90 back. she felt good all week at practice, but during the warm ups, things took a bad turn.
nothing connected for alexia. her passes felt sloppy, and all the confirmation she needed was the look on her training partner's face. every move that alexia made felt awkward and uncomfortable. a part of her questioned whether she should start at all, but she had to. even if your work meeting ran over, you'd want to tune into the game and see her play. alexia wanted to do this for you.
the two of you had gotten together just after the world cup. you had seen alexia play before, but not really as her girlfriend. alexia wanted the chance to impress you, even if she thought that you couldn't actually come to today's game. she knew that you'd be watching her no matter what, so she absolutely had to play well for you.
"hey ale, isn't that your girl?" sandra teased as she pointed towards the stands. alexia's eyes followed the direction of sandra's finger until she saw you sitting next to her mother. alba sat on your other side, looking bored as the two of you chatted.
"that's her." alexia smiled as she watched the interaction. alba nudged you, interrupting your conversation to point out that alexia was staring. you looked over at her and waved excitedly, just like you always did. alexia waved back at you, hopeful that the heat she felt coming up to her cheeks wasn't visible.
it was silly, but alexia swore that she felt immediately better after you had smiled at her. she had been fully prepared to go into the game feeling awkward and a little uncomfortable, but now she didn't have to. alexia's movements were much more fluid, allowing for her to get a brace within the first half of the game.
barcelona was always a dominant team, and you had always seen alexia as their best player. today, she was proving everybody who had doubted her because of the injury wrong. you were standing and screaming in the stands cheering her on. by the end of the 90 minute game, you were absolutely exhausted as if you had played alongside your girlfriend.
"i think it is safe to say that la reina is back," patri teased as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulders. she glanced over at the stands where you were following alexia's mother as you and alba spoke to each other. alexia tried to shove patri away, but claudia and jana were right there to replace her.
"hmm, i seem to remember somebody very grumpy about today's game earlier." jana tapped her chin as she pretended to think about something. "i wonder what could have changed?"
"guys," alexia warned. her warning fell on deaf ears, but alexia couldn't bring herself to be genuinely mad with them. they were like her children, and you never did let alexia get too hard on them.
"i thought i saw a certain artist in the stands chatting with the better putellas," claudia teased. alexia did swat at the girl for the joke about alba being better. claudia winced and made a show of rubbing her arm, knowing that you were looking at her.
"stop being such a baby, it didn't hurt that badly," alexia grumbled. still, claudia held the pout until the group reached the barrier. alexia realized a second too late when she saw you dart towards claudia instead of her what had happened.
"ale, you can't just hit her. babe, i know you think you're being playful, but you are a lot stronger than you know," you scolded her lightly. alexia rolled her eyes as she shoved claudia away before she could get a hug from you. alexia put herself directly into your arms, squeezing you tight and lifting you into the air as she hugged you. "good game today, i've missed seeing you on the field."
"my little good luck charm," alexia mumbled. behind her, you caught claudia and patri mocking the two of you.
"behave, children," you warned. this time, they both jumped apart and stood still. alexia didn't understand how you could do that, but she was glad that you were around to do so. "go shower and get changed, i was thinking that we could go out to eat?"
"that sounds perfect," alexia hummed. you gave her a moment with her family as you gathered up your things. you waited inside for alexia, not wanting to risk getting a sunburn or heat sickness any more than you already had.
"does it hurt?" mapi asked as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulder. for a moment, alexia was genuinely touched that her friend was concerned about the wellbeing of her knee, but that only lasted a couple of seconds. "is the whip that (y/n) uses gentle?"
"shut up," alexia grumbled.
"no, come on. i saw you staring at her all game. i'm surprised you managed to get a touch on the ball with such a big distraction. you stare at her like an idiot stares at the sun." as if alexia needed an example, mapi turned and stared up at the lights with her mouth wide open.
"i was not staring like that, nor was i saring at all. if anything, i took brief pauses to admire (y/n) after i scored or got an assist. if she's willing to take time out of her busy schedue to support me, the least i can do is score for her," alexia reasoned. mapi thought it was all bullshit; sweet, sappy, romantic bullshit.
"whatever, just make sure she keeps coming if you're gonna play like that when she's here."
"trust me, i will," alexia promised. she wanted you at every single one of her games, club and international. if she made it to another world cup, she wanted you to be waiting for a kiss after they won it.
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luveline · 1 year
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Hi hi could we please get shy!reader with Sirius where she’s just absolutely exhausted and wants him to brush her hair for her after she gets out of the shower? Love u xx
thank you for your request! sirius x shy!fem!reader | 1k
You can barely get dressed after your shower, the heat of the bathroom having lulled you into a near comatose state. You drag your soft cotton trousers up the length of your tacky legs, fighting to pull the waistband over your stomach. You almost fall, body listing naturally to the side, but save yourself with a tired arm. 
"You're taking ages." 
You smile at the sound of Sirius' light teasing. 
"I'm almost done." 
"Good. My lap is feeling much too empty today." 
He's delusional if he thinks you're going to sit in his lap. You rub at the ends of your hair with your towel and breathe in the creamy smell of your conditioner, tilting your head to the side to peek at your boyfriend where he sits near the open bedroom window. He's smoking. 
He snuffs out the cigarette in his little ashtray and covers it with a clinking lid to hide the smell. He looks up, and you know from the settled, unsurprised laxness of his eyes and lips that he'd known you were there the whole time. He'd let you watch him, and now he watches you. 
"I gotta tell you something," he says, wiping at the tip of his fingers, his only tell. Whatever it is he's going to say, it's gonna fluster you. Sure enough, he continues, "Every time you get out of the shower with wet hair I feel like it's the first time I'm seeing you." 
"Do I look alien?" you ask, secretly worried. 
"You look stunning, but that's not the point." 
Charmed, you move to the end of the bed and climb over the sheets on knees, pyjama trousers riding up your calves. Sirius meets you where you're sitting, angling himself adjacent, and tugs them down absentmindedly. 
"I don't know. I just love the way you look when you have wet hair, and," —he inclines his head like you're telling secrets— "when you're tired." 
"I'm not tired," you fib. 
"I believe you." 
He obviously doesn't. You're both liars smiling at one another, waiting for the other to break. You look away first, dropping the damp towel from your hair into your lap. Your shoulders rise unbidden, your reluctance clear even when you haven't spoken it aloud. You don't want to finish getting ready for bed. 
Sirius hasn't touched you yet, but he will. His hand closes around your ankle, climbing up under the trousers he'd only just corrected. You melt veritably.
"Will you brush my hair?" you ask, closing your eyes. 
"Yeah," he says. "Course." 
The nightstand drawer opens, wheels running over tracks. You listen to him fish out your hairbrush and some softener, and your skin practically burns as he settles behind you. He pulls you toward him with gentle but undeniably strong hands, his forearm lingering where it presses against your ribcage. 
"I knew you'd end up in my lap," he says. 
You smile despite yourself and cover his hand with your own. His fingers are long and deft beneath yours. 
After a quiet moment of this he pulls away and starts to brush your hair. He makes it a long process with how softly he goes, never once tugging at tangles. He rubs product in your hair, wipes his hands quickly on the towel, and then brushes it through. He perseveres until every strand of hair is brushed, soft and still damp. You meant to talk to him as he went, ask him how his day was, but the feeling of his hands on your neck, your shoulders, the bristles of the brush against your scalp, and the heat and steadiness of him behind you — Sirius is a quiet safety. 
"How's that?" he asks in a murmur. 
"Thank you." 
"You haven't looked yet." 
"Do I need to look?" you ask, turning into him just a smidge. 
Sirius takes the hint, setting the brush aside so he can accommodate your weight. He drops his face into your shoulder with a groan. 
"Yeah," he says. He kisses your shoulder gently. "I've made a right mess of it. But a bird's nest is with the times. I mean, look at James." 
You laugh. You're in a skewed position; you don't want to climb completely into his lap, so you twist as much as you can and hug him until he hugs you back. 
"You're not nice to James considering how much you love him. I hate to think of what you say about me when I'm not around." 
"I say worse." 
"I knew it."
"Much worse." He pets your hair. 
You know he's joking. James had texted you once to ask if your ears were burning, because Sirius had been 'waxing lyrical about the shade of your eyes for the last five minutes', and no offence or anything but James already has a sensitive stomach.
Sirius is lovely. He sings your praises and he brushes your hair and he holds you as he holds you now, like it's the only thing he's ever wanted to do. 
"Thanks for brushing my hair," you murmur.
He pulls away from you enough to see your face, tucking a silken strand behind your ear. 
"You're welcome. I knew you were tired. You had a long day, sweetheart." 
"I did, but… it feels worth it." 
"Yeah?" Sirius asks, a familiar smugness creeping into his tone. 
You shrink at the sound. Not because you don't like it, the opposite, and you both know it. He can get you exactly where he wants you with one word. 
He laughs as you slide your face back into his neck. 
"Be nice," you say. 
"I'll try. No promises." 
4K notes · View notes
flemingsfreckles · 29 days
Text
Physio’s Daughter pt.2
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Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader
Preview: read Part 1, you continue to work with the Canadian team and your partnership with Jessie develops
Warning: some cursing I think, very very very minimal suggestion to sex
WC: 3.8k
A/N: this might be my new favorite story I’m writing (sorry all you Better Boyfriend fans)
The next week had gone by in a flash. Mark had called you, telling you the same things that your mom already had. He wanted to extend an offer to you to join the team, working as a student, for the summer and through the Olympics. He also mentioned that Jessie had spoken highly of you directly to him. Knowing how impressive having experience working for Team Canada would look to future jobs, you couldn’t turn down the offer.
Upon accepting you had started working everyday at the training facility, sometimes carpooling with your mom, picking her up from your childhood home and other days she would swing by your apartment and pick you up. Other days when she would have meetings or individual appointments you weren’t invited to, you’d drive separately.
On your first day Mark had sat you down in his office and asked you about your experience and what you were hoping to gain from your summer. You told him the more you could do the better, whatever he thought would be the best.
You honestly didn’t care too much about the jobs they gave you, as a student you expected to do the simple, more mundane work, making ice bags, organizing closets, restocking first aid kits. You expected to be more of an observer, stepping in only if extra hands were needed.
However much to your surprise, Mark had decided the opposite for you. After your meeting he had asked you to sit tight as he walked out and into the dressing room. He came back with a half dressed captain, Jessie only wearing her training shorts and actively throwing on a sweatshirt as she followed Mark back into the office.
“Oh, you’re back!” Jessie exclaimed when saw you sitting in Mark's office.
“She is.” Before you can answer for yourself Mark steps in. “And I want you two to work together. For one, Jessie we need to have your calf back to 100% before Paris, on top of that as captain, you need to be in the loop as far as what is going on with your teammates. That’s where you two are going to mingle.” His finger points between you and Jessie before he turns his attention to you.
“I want you to be fully responsible for working with Jessie on her calf. I think that will be a better use of your time, instead of throwing you 50 small tasks, take on one large one, do it right. Obviously if you need guidance, the rest of the team is here but I want you to take as much of the lead on it as possible.”
“Understood, I can do that.”
He turns to face Jessie. “Assuming you’re okay with that? You know your own body, if you have concerns or questions about her treatment plan, ask. She’s a student, we don’t expect her to be perfect, you’ll help her. I’m not making you a Guinea pig, you’re not a test subject, more of a learning experience. I mean that in the best way possible.”
“Of course, I feel good about that.” You feel relieved as Jessie agrees to his plan, you hadn’t had much time for the nerves around the responsibility of this job to build up too much but there were some doubts starting.
“As far as the stuff beyond your calf. I want Jessie to get updates on teammate’s, not details but just general ideas of who’s having more fatigue, who needs to be watched, any of those things that as captain she should know, you need to be informing her.” He’s now back looking at you.
“Yes sir, I can do that.”
“Perfect, then you’re both free to go.” He claps his hands together and then motions toward the door.
Jessie is the first one out, she holds the door open for you as you follow her into the main physio room. The rest of the room is empty, today was just a film and media day, most of the players not coming in for any treatments. The physio staff had found themselves elsewhere in the building. Behind you, your boss leaves his office, locking the door before tossing a pair of keys in your direction. He tells you it’s they keys to get in the building and the master key for anything in the training room, in the event you’re here before anyone else. You thank him and watch as he leaves, leaving you and Jessie alone.
You watch as Jessie wanders over to one of the tables, turning and with what seems like ease, pushing herself up and onto the table with her arms. She flops back laying fully down on the table and you can’t help but notice when she puts her arms behind her head her sweatshirt rides up, exposing the lower bit of her abdomen. Catching yourself staring for a second too long you turn away and walk over to the end of the table where her head was.
She has her eyes closed, hands resting behind her head, she looks peaceful. She must have been able to hear you move by her, she opens one eye, looking in your direction.
“Somehow, media day tires me out more than anything.” She goes back to having both eyes closed.
“Because you hate it.” You answer, you’re not sure if she was even asking for a reason but the silence felt uncomfortable and you wanted to fill it. Her eyes both open and she turns her head to look at you. Her eyebrows are pinched slightly as if she’s confused by your statement.
“You hate being in front of the camera right? You probably work yourself up over it, whether you know it or not. It’s probably more stressful on you mentally than playing is.”
“Wow no one told me you were going to school to be an emotional therapist too.” You can practically feel sarcasm dripping off her sentence. She rolls her eyes at you and for a second you feel like an idiot, she obviously knew she hated being in front of the camera, you didn’t need to tell her.
Jessie moves to flip over, propping her head up on her hands. Her smile is big across her face. She reaches an arm out and swats at you, hitting just above your thigh that was at her eye level as you stood at the end of the bed.
“I’m joking, loosen up. If you stay this nervous all summer you’re going to hate it here.”
You knew she was right, being uptight was not going to make anything easier or any part of coming to work fun. But knowing she was right and actually trying to lessen your nerves were two different things.
It took time but by the end of your second week you were feeling more comfortable, slightly confident in the choices you were making, you felt familiar with the staff and all the players, it was becoming more fun.
You and Jessie had fallen into an easy routine. You’d both get to the training facility earlier than everyone, you’d both sit down in your makeshift office and go through paperwork. You’d take the time to run her through each of her teammates, giving her the information that Mark had requested she get as captain. Sometimes there were only a handful of updates to give her and the two of you would end up sitting around chatting.
When her teammates began to arrive you’d make your way into the training room, Jessie would get changed and come back to start treatment on her leg. You’d run her through exercises, stretches, regimes for icing, all the necessary recovery steps for her leg. You’d still run around, occasionally helping the rest of the players, taping, rolling, massaging, but you always came back to check on Jessie. You didn’t think much of it, the time you were spending together, if anything it was more of a requirement for the two of you to spend time together, not a choice.
During training Jessie would check in during water breaks, you weren’t sure that was required but she always found her way over to you, chatting for a minute, usually starting with an update on how she was playing but sometimes just telling you other information, what she had for dinner, the color of the puppy she saw on her way in, small details about her life, before she’d have to go back out.
The more you talked with her the more your silly little young school girl crush came back. Only by this time it was full force attraction, more than just a crush. You were confused how everyone who talked with her wasn’t in love with her. She was kind. It was a simple way to describe her and definitely didn’t do her justice but she was, at the end of the day she was kind and good natured and it drove you crazy.
She was always quick to help you find something in the training room, quick to offer you an extra jacket if she saw you were cold watching training, first one to offer to carry any equipment to and from the field. It was her small gestures that stood out so much.
After training you had a similar routine, helping her, and other players with their recovery. Talking with Jessie about her calf, offering various treatment options to her and letting her guide you. You’d finish your treatment with her and unlike most players who would hurry out of the training room in a rush to get home, she’d stay around talking, offering to help clean or just sitting around. She’d stay until most of the staff had begun to go home and Mark would usually tell her to get out.
It wasn’t long before others took notice of the partnership the two of you had developed.
After a late night at the facility, your Mom began poking at the subject on the ride home.
“How’s it going with Jessie?”
“She’s good, calf is still giving her tightness but it’s less frequent than before, I think she’ll be playing full 90’ before the end of camp.” You think nothing of her question, assuming she’s asking about how her recovery is coming along given the Olympics were coming up quickly.
“She sure does hang around you a lot.” You start to hear the accusatory tone in her voice.
“She’s required to, Mark told both of us we have to work together.”
“I’m pretty sure staying late everyday, to do nothing but sit around with you, wasn’t in the requirements, or the extra chats during water breaks.” She looks over at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Usually she’s giving me updates on her leg.” Defending her behavior to your Mom, it wasn’t really your fault Jessie came over to talk during practice.
“Don’t lie to me, you two were talking about the new pasta place down the road today.”
You don’t say anything back to her, just staring as she glances between the road and back to you.
“Look, I’m saying this as someone superior to you at work, I just think you need to be careful. This is a job, you’re responsible for her health. You can’t be messing around, she’s a coworker. You don’t want to appear unprofessional.”
As if her scolding wasn't enough, she adds, “As your mom, I have to say, she’s 4 years older than you. She’s as close to 30 as you are 18. You’re still a student, she has her career figured out, you’re only just starting yours. Not to mention it’s usually not a good idea to sleep with someone you work with, it makes things complicated.”
“Mom! I’m not sleeping with her.” Your voice is raised, and you feel your cheeks start to burn at your Mom’s suggestion. It’s a mix of anger and embarrassment, mainly from the fact that she would accuse you of sleeping with Jessie, that’s not fair to you or to her.
This is what you hated about working with your Mom, she would still be your Mom at the end of the day. You knew she kept a close eye on you, closer than Mark, closer than any of the other staff, she watched you like a hawk, all day everyday.
“There’s nothing going on.” You add, “She has no interest, it’s work for both of us.” You were thankful when your mom pulled into the driveway to your apartment complex.
“Just take a second to consider what other people might think. You don’t need to have a bad reputation this early in your career because of a fling.” The way she was talking to you felt like you were back in high school and she had caught you sneaking beers to take to a friend's house. It was a voice of concern mixed with a hint of disappointment.
“I already told you, nothing is happening. I don’t need a ride tomorrow, I can take myself.” You tell your mom as you exit the car, closing the door behind you a bit harder than you should.
When you get inside you let your bag hit the ground hard. Frustration from your mom’s comments is still running through your veins. You move to the kitchen, grabbing leftovers out of the fridge and throwing them in the microwave for a minute.
As you eat you think about work, you had to meet with Jessie tomorrow morning but you decide after that you were going to prove to your mom there was nothing going on. You were going to distance yourself, give Jessie the same treatment as everyone else.
That’s what you do, for the next few days you still meet with Jessie in the morning, giving her updates but kicking her out of the office once your professional talks are over. Jessie seemed a bit confused the first few days as you pulled away more and more from her but she never mentioned it to you. You’d finish her recovery treatments and then head into your office which was more of a closet made into a temporary office. You would claim you had paperwork to do and then end up just staring at the blank computer in front of you, wishing you could be having a mindless conversation with her about dogs or bikes or travel spots. Jessie had numerous stories from traveling with Chelsea that you loved hearing about, with every story she told you, you added a travel destination to your bucket list.
You kept up with distancing yourself, somewhat grateful that the international window was coming to a close while you still would have to go to work, Jessie wouldn’t be there forcing you to avoid her.
It was the second to last day of the international window and you were getting started on morning treatments before the friendly match the team had later that afternoon. You had given Jessie her heat pack, not sticking around to talk with her but moving over to where Janine was sitting on the table chatting with some of the other girls.
“Waiting to get your knee taped?” You ask, offering to do it for her.
“Yeah that would be great.” You move to grab tape and adhesive spray. You zone out of the conversations being had around you as you get to work, you’d see how Janine’s knee was taped everyday so it was an easy task to do but not completely a habit you had to use some focus.
“You’re only saying that Jess because it’s the most recent coffee you’ve had.” You zone back into the conversation hearing Janine mention Jessie.
“What about you?” Janine kicks her leg slightly, indicating she was talking to you.
“Sorry, what?” You hadn’t heard what the question was, too zoned out in your own thoughts.
“What’s your go-to coffee order?”
“Oh, usually a cold brew, sometimes I’ll add caramel or raspberry syrup, nothing too crazy.” You answer as you finish up taping her knee. “You’re all set.” You pat her knee and she hops up off the table, thanking you and heading out the door.
You turn and see Jessie putting away her heat pack, something you usually did for her. She gives you a glance, a blank expression on her face as she moves to grab the ball to roll out. As her teammates all filter out, it’s just you and Jessie left in the training room as the rest of the staff followed out to set up for the match. She hadn’t said much to you all day and something felt off, you attempted to make conversation with her.
“Are you looking forward to being back in Portland?”
“Yeah, sort of, I always miss the people here, Portland is all still so new, not quite home yet. Plus the training staff there isn’t nearly as fun, you won’t be-”
“Hey if you’re not doing anything besides chatting, come help set up.” Your Mom’s voice comes from across the room, her head stuck through the door.
Of course she walked in now, not when you were helping Beckie, not when you had been filling water bottles, not when you had been talking to Julia about ankle taping, not when you were having a friendly chat with Quinn, not when you were helping the other staff refill first aid kits. Of course she walked in when it was just you and Jessie, not helping her accusations from last week.
“Coming.” You turn away from Jessie and follow your mom out. As you follow down the hallway she looks back at you. She doesn’t say anything but her glare is enough to keep you from trying to defend what she saw.
The friendly was easy, no injuries, no issues, Canada taking the win 3-1. Jessie was able to get back into playing a full 90’ which while you tried not to show it, you felt proud of. You were proud of your own work, being able to get her back with your help but also proud of Jessie for working through her injury. Thankfully since she was playing the full 90’ there was no time for her to chat with you on the bench, much to your Mom’s relief. You had finished up the evening working with some of the team on stretching and helping them plan for their few weeks back at their club teams. It wasn’t difficult work but it had kept you late at the stadium, leading to a rough start to your next morning.
You were sitting at your desk early at 5am, head resting against your hands, you were exhausted, the game ending late last night, staying to finish up recovery and cleaning up took a toll on your sleep already. What also didn’t help was lying in bed thinking about Jessie. She had felt cold today, she didn’t come to talk to you during halftime, she didn’t ask for extra help during recovery like she normally did. You knew it was your fault, well your Mom’s fault for her comments, but you were the one who pulled back from her first. You felt bad, pulling away from her but it’s what seemed to be the right thing.
“Hey.” A knock on your door frame pulls you from your exhausted brain fog. You look up to see Jessie much to your surprise, you hadn’t planned any of the players to be in this morning. They only had to be in later for film and to wrap up the camp before everyone went back to their clubs for a few weeks before the Olympic period began.
“Can I?” She pointed to the chair she usually would sit in.
“Of course.” You gesture to the chair across from you and Jessie walks in, two coffees in her hands. She places them both on the table before sliding one across the desk to you.
“What’s this for?”
“You.” She takes a sip from her own coffee. You take a look at the handwriting on the cup, labeling your drink as a cold brew with raspberry. You look up at Jessie questioning how she got your order.
“You mentioned your coffee order to Janine yesterday.” She says with a shrug as if you had directly told her your order and she hadn’t been listening into your conversation.
“You didn’t have to get me a coffee Jessie.” You take a sip of it anyway, you weren’t one to turn down caffeine especially after a long night.
“Well it’s more of an excuse to talk to you. I wanted to see what’s been going on.”
“Nothing new really, especially going into the break, no new injuries or anything from last night so no real updates, everyone’s doing well-”
“That’s not what I meant.” She cuts you off. “Sorry to interrupt, it's just I meant why it feels like you’re hiding from me?”
“Oh. Um.” You spin the coffee cup between your hands, looking down at it. You didn’t want to have to explain to her that your Mom is concerned you have a crush.
“If I did something, I’m sorry, I can fix-”
“You didn’t do anything.” You let out a sigh, there’s no way you were going to get out of talking with Jessie. You didn’t want to have to explain it to her, but you also didn’t want her sitting around thinking she did something wrong.
“It’s more my Mom, as embarrassing as that is to admit.” You pinch your eyes shut, feeling shy that you’re admitting that as a 22 year old, your Mom got into your head and made you change your behavior.
“Your Mom?” Jessie seems surprised, she definitely wasn’t expecting your Mom to be involved.
“She made some comments to me, she thought our relationship was becoming unprofessional. She even accused me, well us, of sleeping together.” You explain your behavior, you regret mentioning the sleeping together part as soon as it comes out of your mouth. You keep staring at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to look up and see Jessie’s reaction.
“Oh.” Jessie doesn’t say anything else.
“I obviously told her it wasn’t anything besides professional. We were just working, but her words got in my head so I figured the easiest way was to take a step back.”
“Oh come on!?” You could see her throw her hands up in your peripheral vision.
“What?” You lifted your head to look at her. You weren’t sure why she seemed to be annoyed with you.
“Am I really that bad of a flirt that you thought all those conversations we had were strictly professional?”
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crybaby-bkg · 8 months
Text
Bakugou has never cared much about whether or not his partner is experienced, or less experienced. Never had much of a kink or fetish when it came down to how much sexual experience someone had, but—there’s just something about you. You with your unsure lip biting and lowered eyes, your twisting hands and nervous little chuckles.
“I don’t really know how to kiss,” you share with him, a secret, a whisper passed from your hovering mouth to his own. It’s been an odd some amount of dates you two have been on by now, and this time you went back to his apartment afterwards. You sit on your knees beside him on his too big couch, his legs facing you, arm around your waist, yours around his shoulders.
“Really?” Bakugou asks, doesn’t mean to sound as teasing as he does, as breathless. But, he’s surprised more than anything—you, as sinfully seductive as you are, don’t know how to kiss someone? He leans back to take you all in, a tiny little smile lilting the corners of his mouth.
“No, not really,” you murmur, running a hand through the hair on his nape, eyes bouncing all over his face, yet avoiding his eyes. “Will you teach me?” You ask, and who is Bakugou if not a weak man?
So he shows you the proper way to kiss somebody, a hands on demonstration. He pulls you in real close, guides your head to tilt to the right, purse your lips like this, run your tongue over his like that. Now suck on it, let out all the pretty sounds if it feels good, kiss him just like that. And before you know it, you’re a pro.
The next time you see him, you ask him the proper way to give someone a hickey. I don’t wanna give you a blood clot, you had laughed, sitting on his lap this time. And Bakugou, ever the great teacher that he is, shows you how. Demonstrating on your neck, your collarbone, your tummy, your inner thigh, the curve of your ass. You don’t give him nearly as many hickeys as he gives you, but the big purpled one sitting over his pulse point, he wears proudly until it fades. And after that, he’s asking for another, and another.
And after a few months into your relationship, do things finally start getting real hot and heavy. He sits at the island in his place, tired, arms folded, back leaning against the island and his head lolled over on his shoulders. He’s surprised when you sink to your knees in front of him, all doe eyed and incubus smile, hands resting on his thighs.
“Can you show me how?” You don’t even have to specify what you’re talking about, but you eye the way his cock already jumps to attention under his shorts. If this were anyone else, he’d bat them away and tell them that he didn’t feel like playing teacher. But with you—he’d gladly show you any and everything your heart has ever yearned to know.
“Breathe through your nose, baby.” He instructs you, hand gathering your hair in his fists. Your mouth stretches wide around his cock, eyes watering, but you push through it all. He tells you to wrap your lips around your teeth, to swallow whenever his tip brushes the back of your throat. Shows you how to stroke whatever you can’t reach, rub his balls in your palm whenever he starts getting close.
He doesn’t have to teach you how to swallow.
When you ride Bakugou for the first time, you don’t even have to ask for instructions. Just give him that look, all pouty and pitiful, hands on his chest as you grind against his cock resting against your lower belly. Barely any words are spoken as he guides you, lifts your hips, teases his tip against your hole, stomach fluttering in anticipation.
After that, you feel like a pro when it comes to doing anything with Bakugou. But, he doesn’t mind playing teacher whenever you need a little bit of guidance.
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