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#wrote a tiny bit more after getting this ask
neo404 · 2 days
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If you have the chance could you possibly continue Proud of you, buddy . Maybe it could be him asking the boy out and calling nick to tell him or him coming out to the family and nick just there supporting him through it ( also wanted to tell you that i love your stories )
Proud of you, buddy. Part 2.
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Summary: after talking with Nick, you stayed up all night thinking about confessing your feelings to Jackson, you decided that tomorrow (Friday) will be the best day to do it, since it will be the start of your summer break.
Tw: cursing.
I wanted this to be perfect. Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I made it Nicks problem.
‘’You know I am bad at crafts.’’ He said while folding the color papers I gave him.
‘’I know, but I need help. This paper bouquet won’t do itself.’’ Nick rolls his eyes.
‘’What are you doing anyways that you don’t do the bouquet for your boyfriend.’’
‘’He’s not my boyfriend, shut up. I’m writing him a letter.’’ I blush and look down at the empty piece of paper infront of me.
‘’Oh boy, teenage love is so cute, I feel like a grandpa right now.’’
‘’Yeah, ‘cus you are old.’’ I laugh and he scoffs.
‘’I won’t help you anymore, then. My hands are too old to be folding these tiny papers’’
‘’NO, it was a joke, you are as young as a baby.’’ he laughs and keeps folding the papers.
‘’Hey, I know it can be scary, just write what you feel, yeah?’’ I nod and let out a sigh. Starting to write on the paper.
We talked until it was too late, we laughed and he shared his experiences declaring to boys and things like that. I knew I was close with my older brother, but I feel like this brought us even closer. I ended up sleeping 3 and a half hours, the next morning I was looking rough, Nick woke up early to help me pick an outfit and to drop me off to school with dad.
‘’Remember buddy, breath and say what you feel.’’ I nod and he pats my shoulder. I walk into my first period which was chemistry, I have to wait until 4th period to talk to Jackson.
I talk with my friends; I laugh with them. But I can’t shake away the though of Jackson and what he might say. I take deep breathes on the halls as I change classrooms, 3rd period ends and I’m walking into my english literature class, I feel some arms wrap around me, I look besides me and see Jackson smiling at me.
‘’Hi, why didn’t you wait for me?’’ he asks me.
‘’Oh, shit. I forgot.’’
‘’You forgot about me? AUCH. My heart, I am dying.’’ He grabs his chest dramatically and puts most of the weight of his body on me. ‘’Carry me, I am bleeding out.’’
‘’I didn’t forget about you, I forgot to wait. I didn’t wanted to be late again.’’
‘’Again? We are late to english literature like… 4 times a week?’’
‘’Yes, and we have it 4 times a week, you dumbass.’’ He stands straight, one arm still around my shoulder.
‘’Right, I forget. What would I do without you?’’
‘’Probably die.’’ He laughs
‘’True. You are my savior.’’ We enter the classroom and sit on out places, which are next to each other, we share table because the teacher says Jackson pays more attention and gets better grades when he’s with me, I think it’s because he just copies everything I do.
‘’Good morning class.’’ The teacher enters the classroom with a mug of coffee on her hand and starts talking about what we will do today.
‘’Hey, Jack.’’ I whisper and punch him softly.
‘’Hm?’’
‘’Can we talk at the end of the day?’’ I ask trying to not sound nervous.
‘’Yeah. Why not now?’’
‘’You’ll see. Just pay attention to what she’s saying.’’
‘’All right, Mr. Favorite Student.’’
The rest of the day went smoothly, Jackson and I lunched together as always. I wrote to Nick on the bathroom because I was panicking. At the end of the day Nick told me he will be waiting for me with a giant ice cream container, to celebrate or just in case.
I was outside the building, on the quiet part, where people didn’t hang around as much. I looked at Jackson approaching with a wide smile on his face.
‘’Heyo! What is it that you wanted to talk about?’’
‘’It’s a bit complicated.’’ His smile fades and nods.
‘’It’s all right dude, whatever you need I’m here to listen.’’ He pats my shoulder and sits on the ground, his back against the school bricks. I sit beside him.
‘’Well, there is something I’d like to give you.’’ His eyes widen and smiles again.
‘’Bring it out man.’’ I take a deep breath and take out of my backpack the card and the little paper bouquet. ‘’Aw, dude, that’s so cute. Thanks. Is it our anniversary or something? Why are you gifting me flowers honey?’’ he jokes, as he often does. I shrug my shoulders and point at the card. ‘’Yeah right, I should read it.’’ He reads it quietly, he bites his lip while doing so, a small smile on his face, I look down at my hands and try to not cry on stop. ‘’Shit, you are such a dork.’’ I feel his hand grabbing my face and turning my face to him, he kisses my lips. ‘’I like you too, dumbass. Can I be your boyfriend?’’
‘’What? Really.’’ My brain feels dizzy, I’m trying to process what jus happened. ‘’YES, yes.’’ After I can keep rambling, he kisses me again. We break the kiss because my phone is ringing.
‘’Where the fuck are you?’’ Matts voice sound on my ear.
‘’Shit, sorry. I lost track of time. I’m on my way.’’ I close the call and give Jackson a small kiss on the lips. ‘’Bye, see you at the dinner.’’
‘’Bye. I will be there, wait for me.’’
I rush to the car, a big smile on my face.
‘’Damn buddy, what got you so happy?’’
‘’Matt… I have a boyfriend!’’ Matt looks at me dead in the eyes and blinks twice.
‘’That’s amazing, I’m proud of you buddy.’’ He gives me a small hug and starts driving home. ‘’Is he a good guy?’’
‘’Yes, he’s really kind.’’
‘’Does he know you have 4 older brother that can beat him up?’’
‘’Yes, he knows. He’s cool Matt.’’
‘’He better be.’’
We arrive home and I swing the door open, Nick is sitting on the couch, already eating some of the ice cream.
‘’HE SAID YES!’’ Nick stands up from the couch, his eyes wide open.
‘’OH MY GOD, YEEES!!!’’ he hugs me and we jump happily.
‘’What am I missing?’’ Chris who was also eating the ice cream looks at us confused. ‘’Matt, who the fuck said yes?’’
‘’Don’t ask me, the news are as new to me as they are to you.’’ He messes up my hair as he passes by Nick and I.
‘’Chris. I have a boyfriend.’’
‘’A what?...’’ he stares at me for a few seconds. ‘’DAMN, THAT’S NICE, BUDDY. Come here, hug your older brother.’’ He walks over to me and Nick and hugs the both of us. ‘’Be who you aaaare.’’
‘’To soon, Chris.’’ Nick mutters.
‘’Oh shit, sorry.’’ He chuckles. ‘’Proud of you, buddy. When will we get to meet him?’’
‘’He’s coming for mom’s birthday.’’
‘’Oh, that’s cool.’’ Nick says.
‘’Yeah, I think I’ll tell mom, dad and Justin that day.’’
‘’Sounds like a plan.’’ Chris says. Then looks at Matt that was sitting on the couch. ‘’Don’t be a grumpy fuck Matt, come hug your brothers.’’ Matt smiles and gets up to hug us.
‘’Thank you guys, you are the best.’’
‘’We are.’’ Nick says.
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inkskinned · 1 year
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"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"
my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?
for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.
some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.
some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.
i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.
you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.
i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.
i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!
just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.
because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!
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softlyspector · 1 year
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Significant
Summary: Din has been calling you riduur for months. You finally find out what it means, and get a little more than you bargained for.
Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader
Word Count: ~5.1k
Warnings: pining, absolute FOOLS in love, bit of grumpy x sunshine, lil angsty, possibly incorrect lore, fluff, lots of Mando'a (translations for the Mando'a at the end)
A/N: Happy Mandalorian Eve!! This is based on a short drabble I wrote, which you can find here! It's not necessary to read it first, though of course I recommend it! The reader and Din have been traveling together for a long time, and after removing his armor in front of the reader for the first time began calling them riduur.
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“Riduur.” 
It may as well be your name, the way you turn at the sound of that word. 
“Din,” you return, adjusting the child’s little sleeve which had fallen down past his hand.
“Are you ready?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side. 
You smile and turn back to Grogu. “Dad’s impatient today, isn’t he?” The child coos up at you, lifting tiny arms, ready to be picked up. “Yeah, he is.”
“I’m not impatient,” Din grumbles lowly.
You raise a brow at that and lift Grogu into your arms. “You’re always impatient, Mando.” His head jerks to the side at your assessment.
You have to bite back a laugh. In truth, he is incredibly patient. Most of the time, and especially when it came to you and Grogu. The only time you’ve seen him truly lose his temper was with the Jawas, and really, that couldn’t be helped. 
The child reaches for Din when you turn back to him, and the Mandalorian immediately holds out his arms to take him from you. You deposit the little green baby there before grabbing your shawl. “Yes, we’re ready,” you finally answer. 
The baby gets tucked into the pouch at Din’s hip, before he descends the ship’s ramp out into the desert air that awaits you. 
You roll your eyes gently. 
Not impatient, but not entirely patient either. 
You follow, wrapping the light material around your shoulders. 
It’s subtle, but he does wait for you, his pace slower than if he were alone. His right elbow ticks out a fraction, and you smile before cupping your hand there. He would never ask you to take his arm, still the offer is usually there if he can accommodate it. 
He relaxes a little when you fit your hand against his bicep. “Supplies only,” he reminds you, ever practical. 
“Supplies only,” you agree. “Unless I see something for Grogu.” 
“The child is becoming spoiled,” he complains lightly. “We won’t have enough room in the ship soon.” 
You shrug and tighten your grip on his arm. You like the way he says we. So, you return with, “That’s just because our child deserves the best.” 
Din’s spine straightens a fraction and his shoulders tilt back. 
He’s somehow both stoic and incredibly bad at hiding his emotions. You can tell, just by the slope of his shoulders or the exact angle of the helmet or the precise way he stands or walks, exactly what and how he’s feeling. 
Or, maybe you’ve just spent too much time around him. 
Maybe, you just know him too well. 
And right now, he’s swollen with pride. Though you don’t know if it's because you’ve complimented the way he takes care of the child or if it were something else. Something in the way you said our.  
It’s not long before you reach the market, and Din sighs as soon as it comes into view. It’s much larger than the ones you normally frequent, a riot of color and sound that you both know you won’t be able to resist. The town seems to be in the midst of some kind of festival. 
The smell of fried food greets you before you’ve even breached the perimeter of the town, and your mouth waters. Something better than rations awaited you there. 
Din is single minded though, and you know he’ll immediately make for the most boring of the stalls and shops. 
Supplies only, after all, is what you’d come for. 
“Mando,” you remove your hand from his arm and he immediately halts at the loss of your touch and turns to you. “I’m going to go look around.” 
He stares at you, helmet tilting down. He doesn’t like telling you no, and knows it wouldn’t matter if he did anyways. But, he worries and so it takes a moment for him to reply. “Don’t go far,” he advises. “Do you have a comlink?”
“Yes.” 
“A weapon?” 
You pretend to search your person, “Hm, what’s that again?” 
“Riduur,” he reprimands your teasing. 
That word makes the inside of your skin light up pleasantly. Riduur. If only you knew what it meant. 
You’ve started to assume it means something similar to cyare or cyar'ika. But he’d had no problem telling you what those words meant. Darling and sweetheart and beloved. He’d had no problem telling you he was calling you beloved. 
But he no longer calls you cyare or cyar'ika. Since the first time he’d called you riduur, the day he removed his armor in front of you for the first time, he’d solely begun calling you riduur. 
Even your name is becoming a rarity from his lips. 
“Udesii! Yes,” you cross your arms. “You know I took care of myself for a very long time without you and nothing ever happened. I’ll be okay.” 
Din doesn’t answer, just sighs and gives a curt nod and marches off towards a shop selling medical supplies. 
The dramatics of it all makes you giggle. You like teasing him, especially because he thinks he hides how flustered you make him well. 
Although you enjoy traveling with the Mandalorian, alone time has become a complete rarity. You were always with Din, or watching your little green menace.
You eat your way through a couple of different stalls selling food, bundling up second and third servings to keep for Din and Grogu. 
Din wouldn’t think to get anything beyond rations. Both you and the child like a little more variety, where Din treats the act of eating like a maintenance routine. 
You drift past stalls hawking trinkets and jewelry, fending off the sellers as you crunch something sweet and sour you’d picked up at the last food stall, not entirely sure what it is.  
Textiles are next, bolts of cloth you run your fingers over but mourn not being able to afford. Still, it's nice to browse, nice to feel normal. The Mandalorian isn’t hunting someone for once, and you aren’t trapped in the interior of the ship, stale recycled dry air burning your nostrils. 
A little supply stop has become a little welcome relief. It’s giving you the chance to stretch your legs, to explore. 
Still, your mind drifts back to Din, the way he calls you something he would not name to you.
You’ve searched before, in other markets, on other worlds, for the answer to your question. What does that word mean and why won’t Din tell you? 
You’d tried to convince him once or twice, with gentle words whispered in his ear, when the helmet was off and your hands were pressed against his skin, the contours of his face still a mystery to you. 
Once, you’d felt the skin of his cheeks go hot beneath your hands when you told him he used his tongue so prettily, couldn’t he use it to tell you what riduur meant? 
He’d mumbled something else in Mando’a but had not explained himself. 
You can understand most of that he says now, but because he’s the only other speaker, you have to rely on him to tell you what new words and phrases mean.
Because the Mandalorians are such an insular people, you never come across any other speakers you could ask. There are no dictionaries to Basic that you could download and peruse. 
It’s frustrating, especially since the word seems to be laden with something heavy. Din says it with reverence, with a softness that doesn't cut through the rest of his words. His voice is softer when he speaks Mando’a anyways, but that word is held with a reverence on his tongue, like it’s precious. 
The only other time you had heard him use that tone was when he once called Grogu ad’ika, which meant child. 
You’ve almost given up on knowing, resigned to that fact that you may never know and he may never tell you.
Whatever it means, you’re sure it's important. You just don’t know why.
The market is loud, boisterous and colorful. Music floats through the air, shouts and laughter. 
It’s nice, it makes you smile and you wish you’d taken the child with you because you’re sure he’d have much more fun with you than with Din picking out rolls of bandage and rations and pulse rifle cartridges if he can find someone that has some. 
You stop suddenly in your tracks when you hear a conversation in a language you immediately recognize, the familiar syllables cutting through the afternoon chatter. 
You spin and find two men in robes speaking gently to each other in Mando’a. Before you can stop yourself, your feet have already carried you to their table where they sit sipping cups of caf. 
“Su cuy'gar,” you greet. They both look surprised, glancing at each other and then back at you. “Sorry to bother you. You speak Mando’a?” 
One smiles, “Yes. Of the few outsiders that do, I think.” 
“Were you foundlings?” It’s the only way, you think, that they could have learned it. 
“Once,” the older of the two says. “This one learned it at a university.” 
You can’t help the curiosity that burns through you, “At a university? Really?” 
“Only the very barest basics. From a woman being courted by a Mandalorian,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “That was a long time ago. Really I learned from him.” He gestures between himself and the other man. 
You shake yourself, “I’ve just never met another aruetii that does.” Let alone two of them, you think dizzily. Two outsiders who spoke Mando’a. 
“And how did you learn?” 
“My…” you trail off. 
Your what? You aren’t sure what exactly Din is to you, or what you are to him. You never have been. He treats you like you’re more precious than beskar, yet everything between you remains undefined. 
“My traveling companion. He’s a Mandalorian.” You swallow, “I wonder if you could tell me if you know what a certain word means? It’s one I’ve been curious about.” You don’t want to tell them that you’re seeking it out because it's something he calls you. That feels too private, too close to the chest. “He said it once and I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since.” 
“Why don’t you ask him?” 
“It would wound my pride. He’s already taught me so much. He overestimates my fluency.” 
They laugh and the man who was once a foundling says, “Yes, ask us then.” 
“Riduur,” you say, carefully pronouncing it so they don’t mistake it for another word. “Riduur,” you repeat with more confidence. 
The men glance at each other, brows raised. “Well, it has several meanings,” the more grizzled of the two says, “But I suppose it's all the same in the end. Spouse would be the most overarching translation. Partner, wife, and husband all work too.” 
For a moment, you can’t breathe, you’re sure your heart has come to a leaping halt in your chest. “Truly? Riduur?” You say it again, just to make sure. They laugh and nod and you decide to have your meltdown away from their table. “Well, thank you for clearing that up. Sorry again to bother you.” 
You turn away from them, a roaring in your ears. Your heart stutters in your chest. Riduur. He’s been calling you his partner, his spouse, for months? That word so softly spoken to you - to tease you, to call for you, whispered to you in the dark, said over and over, more than your own name. It meant partner, spouse, wife, husband?
Something inside you lights up with pride. The shape of it is warm, firm in the clasp of your lungs. Riduur. It’s a living, breathing kind of word, one that takes up space inside you. One you’re proud to bear the weight of, the title of. 
Spouse, you think, doesn’t carry the same gravitas as riduur. There’s something heavier and deeper in the word that a translation couldn’t really carry over into Basic. 
You start back down the road, smiling to yourself, but only make it several paces when Din steps up beside you silently from between two stalls. “Dank farrik,” you gasp, stumbling back. “Where did you come from? You scared me.” 
He doesn’t answer you, doesn’t even tilt his head towards you. You may as well have not spoken at all. 
“Mando?” 
Still, he doesn’t answer you. 
You raise a brow but don’t say anything else as he herds you gently out of the market, desert dust swirling around your calves. Eventually, when you reach the edge of the town, he asks, “Did you find everything you need?” His voice is flat, rough. 
“Yes, I got some food for you and Grogu to try. A little feast for you tonight, since it won’t hold.”
He merely grunts and you frown. “Is something wrong?” You glance over your shoulder. “Did something happen? Are we being followed?”
You glance around his legs at the baby, still securely in the brown canvas bag, who’s peering up at both of you with anxious eyes, big ears drooping. 
“No.” He answers curtly. 
The walk back to the ship is silent, and tense, and you aren’t sure why. 
It’s only when you’re in the safety of the mouth of the ship’s ramp, with the baby in your arms, that your irritation spills over. “Are you upset with me? I didn’t wander. I stayed close and had a weapon and -,” 
Din’s hands go to his hips, helm tilting at an angle as he regards you. His voice is agitated when he finally speaks. You expect him to tell you that you wandered too far, that he commed you and you hadn’t picked it up, that you’d unknowingly wandered into danger. And you expect to have to tell him once again that it's all fine, that you are fine, that you’d traveled without him for years and things always turned out alright. 
Instead, he says, “You should not call yourself an aruetii. That is not what you are.” 
For a moment, it doesn’t register with you what he’s talking about, that he’d clearly overheard your conversation with the Mando’a speakers, likely eavesdropped on it. 
All you are, for a few seconds, is confused. “But…I am an aruetii. I am not a Mandalorian.”
Din’s shoulders go stiff at your words. “That does not make you an outsider. You…you are far from an outsider,” he growls and suddenly spins away from you, his footfalls heavy and loud when he stomps across the hull.
He climbs the ladder to the cockpit and disappears, leaving both you and the baby alone, still standing on the ramp up to the ship. “He’s angry with me,” you say in disbelief, glancing down at the child in your arms, not really understanding why. “We’ll let him cool off,” you decide, bouncing the child against your waist. “Hungry?” 
The baby coos and you smile, worry biting into you as you settle with him in the mouth of the ship. The sun is setting on the sand, the air warm, casting red shadows over the world. There’s nothing around you but sand in any direction you glance, aside from the town from which you’d come on the horizon. 
In the distance, fireworks from the town explode in the sky. You point them out to Grogu, gently feeding him bites of food that you’d gotten at the market. He makes a sound that you suppose is a giggle, big eyes focused on the colors dissipating in the sky. He holds a tiny hand up, like he’d like it to fly to him. 
You curl a hand over his. “None of that,” you say with a laugh. “Those are meant for the stars, not you.” 
He goes back to eating, already distracted. 
A weight settles over your chest.
If Din heard you call yourself aruetii then he knows that you now know what riduur means. 
Maybe that was the true source of his irritation, that you’d gone behind his back to figure out what it meant when he clearly hadn’t wanted you to know.
You rub the tip of Grogu’s ear between your fingers and sigh. 
Any warm feelings you’d had are gone. 
Riduur. 
He’s been calling you that for months. But he hadn’t wanted you to know that he was calling you his partner. For some reason it stings. 
The Mandalorian is not cruel, not the type to play with another’s feelings. But, nonetheless, it feels like he might have been. Teasing you in a way you couldn’t begin to guess at. Or, like he could pretend without actually attaching himself to you, and you’d be none the wiser. 
You shake those thoughts away, listening to the music echoing over the sands. 
When Grogu falls asleep and the sun is just disappearing behind the horizon, you secure the ramp of the ship and carry the baby up into the cockpit. 
Din sits silently in the pilot’s chair, and doesn’t look at you as you tuck the child into the floating pod. 
You fidget with his blanket, not sure what to say. 
“I’m sorry,” he breaks the silence first. “Ni ceta.” 
“Din,” you perch next to him in the co-pilot’s seat. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have gone poking around where I don’t belong. I’m sorry.” 
His head tilts toward you, the visor impenetrable. You swallow when he doesn’t answer, an inexplicable lump forming in the back of your throat. “Don’t belong?” 
“I shouldn’t have asked them what riduur meant. You didn’t want me to know.” 
Din stands and holds out a hand to you. You take it carefully and let him pull you to your feet. “That is not why I-,” he stops. “Do you really not know?” 
“Know what?” 
“I should have been…honest about the name I’ve given you.” He tilts his head and releases your hands. “I’m upset because-,” the Mandalorian pauses and seems to consider his next words for a long moment. Finally, he sighs and simply repeats, “You’re not an aruetii. By definition you can’t be.”
You stare at him for a long moment, before shaking your head. “I don’t understand.” 
He huffs, helm ticking to the side again. “Would you call Grogu an outsider?” 
“Of course not,” you answer, horrified. “No.” 
“And why is that? He’s not a Mandalorian either.” 
You don’t have to think about it, shaking your head before he’s even finished speaking. “He’s your child.” 
Din steps forward, close to you, but doesn’t say anything. “Our child,” he corrects eventually. “I am upset because you don’t seem to know you are a part of our clan. Even after knowing what I’ve been calling you. Riduur, ner riduur, for months. You still don’t know.”
Oh. Oh. 
“Osi'kyr,” you murmur softly. “How could I know that, Din?” 
He stands silent and still before you, so still you aren’t sure he’s breathing. “I thought it was clear,” he says stiffly. “I thought it was clear I was courting you.”
Something pleasantly warm settles in among your heart and lungs. “Maybe you should explain your customs to me more thoroughly,” you joke lightly. 
He doesn’t laugh, shoulders tense, hands curled in anxious fists. 
“So why not tell me what the word means?” It seems a bit past courting to you, to call someone riduur. It seems to you he’s already chosen you. 
He shifts from foot to foot, the movement somehow laden with vulnerability and worry. “If you did not…want the same - I’m not sure I could bear that.” 
You stare at him, not entirely sure what to say to that. “So, what,” you start, “you expected me to one day just realize you considered me your-,”
“I would have told you,” he interrupts quickly. “One day.” 
“Told me-,” 
“What riduur means,” he corrects. “And asked if you’d like to be that.” Din takes your hands again, “Just know that you are part of this clan, whatever your answer is.” His voice is so sincere, it breaks your heart a little. “Whether you want to be attached to me or not, you have a place in this clan. You are not an aruetii.”
You tilt your head at the same time he does, the nonverbal cues you both habit in reflecting between you. “I’m just a bit confused. Was that your idea of a proposal?” You smile so he knows you’re teasing him. 
Din gives a long suffering sigh. “Mandalorians do not propose.” 
“Oh. So what do you do then?” You lift a brow, sliding your hands to his wrists so you can work on tugging one glove off at a time. 
“We make an agreement,” he says, not trying to stop you. His voice is hoarse. “We make vows.”
You don’t look up, tucking the gloves in your belt before tracing your fingers along the veins in his wrists, the lines of his palms. “Oh. And did you make vows to me that I wasn’t aware of?” 
You’re still joking, but Din takes your words to heart. He shakes one hand loose from yours and presses it beneath your jaw, tipping your head gently back. “I did. I make vows to you everyday.” 
All the air seems to get sucked out of the ship. You gape at him, mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out as you struggle to find words. He chuckles, low and breathy beneath the helmet. You imagine he must be smiling. “Now you see how you make me feel. Like I can’t breathe.”
You finally manage to take a breath, lifting your chin away from his fingers, threads of embarrassment beating under your skin at his teasing. “You could have told me, you know.” 
“It was too large a risk. I wouldn’t risk you.”
Maybe you should hesitate in your next words. 
But you don’t. 
You’ve never been surer in something. 
“Din,” you step close to him. “I would take those vows.” 
“They…they are heavy vows. Not meant to be taken lightly. They’re bonding vows.”
He thinks you don’t get it, that you still don’t understand. “I understand what kind of vows they are. What are the vows?” You step even closer, the heat of his body seeping into yours. 
He smells like sun, like spices from the market and oil on beskar. It makes you dizzy, the usual scent of him is much cooler. Evergreen and pine. 
The cockpit is dark, the very last dregs of light on the horizon gone. The contours of the helm are shadowed, the flicker of lights from the control panels reflecting in blinking lights over the visor. 
There is no hesitation in his voice when he finally speaks. 
“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” 
You mouth the words, doing your best to translate them. 
But he’s spoken too quickly, and you only understand part of it. He waits for you to ask for him to translate, giving you a moment to attempt it instead of immediately telling you. 
“I only understand part…We are one together and-,”
“We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors,” he says easily. “We are - we are all of those things already. I have kept the promise I made.” 
Your throat is dry, and you can’t think about how that’s true. “We’re raising warriors?” You attempt a joke. 
“Would you not call the child a warrior?”
“I would,” you agree. “I would also still take those vows, now knowing their meaning.”
There’s a long pause in which you can feel the Mandalorian’s stare. His gaze is intense, assessing, hot against your skin. You patiently look back, waiting. “You don’t have to.”
“You think I don’t want to.” 
He huffs, “I…don’t want you to believe you have to make vows to me. You are a part of our clan no matter what.” 
“Would you still call me riduur?”
“If you allowed it,” he takes a breath. “Yes.” 
The lip of the helm drifts up and you can sense he’s no longer looking at you, embarrassed. “Din.” His head snaps back down. “I know I am not an outsider.” You wait for him to digest those words. “I know this is my clan now. I still would like to make these vows to you.” 
He reaches up and presses his palms to either side of your jaw, the crown of the helmet pressing softly against your forehead for just a moment when he dips his head. “If you’re sure, repeat after me. We’ll say them together.” 
“Elek,” you agree. 
“Mhi solus tome,” he starts, reverence and disbelief lodged in his voice. 
In the distance, more fireworks explode in the sky. The colors reflect in the glass of the ship’s front window, sparking over the reflective helmet. “Mhi solus tome,” you say slowly, careful to pronounce each word exactly right. 
You’d never imagined yourself as someone who would get married, and certainly not like this. 
But that was before you knew Din. And all this feels to you is right. It’s both sudden and not. 
This was meant to happen. All your years with the Mandalorian lead towards this. 
You repeat the rest of the vows after him, slow and deliberate. 
When the final syllable rolls off your tongue, a muted kind of joy overcomes you. You’ve been a part of it for a long time, but you feel it now, the belonging to a clan and people. 
Din releases you and leans back. His chest rises and falls quickly. 
You close your eyes and reach for the edge of his helmet. 
You want to kiss him at the very least. 
But when your fingers skim over the release, he captures your wrists in one hand. You let go and Din reaches up with his opposite hand to take it off himself. 
You expect him to kiss you right away, but he doesn’t. You can only feel the lingering touch of his gaze. 
“Open your eyes.” 
“What? No-,” you begin to protest. 
“Yes. You can now, riduur.” The word rumbles out of him proudly, heavy in his mouth. 
You tilt your head and frown. “Are you-,” 
“This is the Way.” His voice warbles, just a little. 
“Are you sure?” You get the entire question out this time. 
Now it’s his turn to tease you. “No,” he says dryly. “I’ll change my mind after you open your eyes.” 
“Ha ha,” you deadpan. “You’re very funny.” 
“Open them.” 
You think you might be more nervous than him to see his face. You honestly never thought you would get to, and you had long ago made peace with that. It didn’t matter to you what he looked like, you knew his heart and that was more than enough. 
You’ve tried to picture him before, from tracing your fingers over his face, but the image is only half formed and without detail. It felt wrong, somehow, too, to try to picture the face of someone who deliberately hid it. 
 Slowly, you peek your eyes open at him. Whatever you had pictured is nothing compared to the man you find yourself gazing at. 
A sense of vertigo sweeps through you, because it's almost like looking at a stranger. 
You have to resist the urge, for just a moment, to tear yourself away from him. 
His hair is darker in color than you thought it would be, but just as feathery and lightly curled as you imagined. Din’s eyes are dark, a deep brown that you’d like to spend lifetimes memorizing, falling inside. You were right too, from your explorations of his face with your hands, about the shape of his nose, his mustache, the patchy beard. You’d pictured his eyes all wrong, the shape of jaw.
One thing you couldn’t have guessed at is the naked expressiveness in his eyes. 
It makes sense though, he’s spent a lifetime without the need to school his features into anything other than exactly what he was feeling. 
You wonder how many times he’s looked at you with such longing, and you never knew. 
He says your name, a question mark tagged onto the end of it, his voice wrecked and strange without the modulator muffling his voice. 
The sound of his voice rips the upside down feeling away. It’s his voice, it’s him. Not some handsome stranger. 
Your eyes flit up from where your gaze had lingered on his lips, the pink shape of his mouth against golden skin. “I was right.” 
He frowns, eyes soft and worried. It shocks you again, just how open his emotions read in his eyes. “About what?” 
“I knew you were pretty. You are pretty,” you tease, pressing yourself against him, the hard contours of him biting into you. You fist your hands into the fabric at his sides. “Mesh’la.” 
Din frowns at you. “I told you that means beautiful, didn’t I?” His voice is playful and doesn’t match his expression. 
You nod and don’t answer, reaching up to cup your hand against his cheek. Din’s arm settles easily around your waist, dragging you closer, the weight of his helm in his hand heavy against your hip. Normally, you’d let him close the distance between you but you can’t quite manage to let him now, gazing instead at the planes of his face. “Mesh’la,” you tell him. “Ner riduur.” 
“That’s my line.” 
“Not anymore,” you tease. “Husband.”
You tip your chin into his and wait for him to meet you there. 
He gives a slight smile before leaning into you. “Not husband. Riduur.” 
“Right,” you agree, because really, it isn’t quite the same. It can’t be. “Ner riduur.” 
The kiss lingers long on your lips. He’s savoring you, a warm passion that doesn’t quite extend into heat. Din’s tongue meets yours briefly, the groan it tugs from his mouth sending flashes of lightning all the way down to your toes. 
The fireworks outside are no rival for the feelings clawing up the back of your throat. 
You want to tell him you love him, but you think he already knows. 
He breaks away to set his helmet down. When he turns back to you, his hands roam over you, free in their movement, tugging at the band of your trousers. 
You can’t stop staring at him, suddenly overwhelmed, drinking in the sight of him, the naked expression of him, everything he’s thinking spread over his face like a well loved language. 
All you’d wanted was to know the name he gifted you, instead - this. 
You map your hand over his face, tracing the divot between his brows, the curve of one sharp cheekbone. “I never thought I would see your face,” you whisper. 
Those soft, vulnerable eyes meet yours, arm wrapping around you again, as his bare forehead presses to yours, “And I always knew you would.” 
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Thank you for reading! Please let me know your thoughts!
If you want more of Din and his riduur, Significant-verse drabbles can be found here!
Translations:
Riduur - spouse, partner, wife, husband
Ner riduur - my spouse, partner, wife, husband
Cyare - beloved
Cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart
Udesii - Relax, take it easy
Ad’ika - little one, baby
Su cuy'gar - Hello
Aruetii - outsider, foreigner, traitor
Ni ceta - an apology, rare
Osi'kyr - exclamation of surprise
Elek - yes
Mesh’la - beautiful
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wintersoldiersoul · 5 months
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Aftercare
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A/N: Can't stop thinking about fluffy aftercare with Bucky so here's something short I just wrote
Warnings: tiny bit of smut, aftercare, tooth rotting fluff
“One more for me, baby girl, come on, you can do it,” Bucky encouraged as he pounded into you relentlessly. He had your legs up by your head, cock plunging in and out of your cunt, sending you barreling into your sixth orgasm of the night. You were absolutely exhausted but someone still not satiated yet. You still needed him.
“Oh fuck!” You yelled out, feeling another orgasm creeping up. “I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum so hard! Fuckk!” Your words were practically just screams as you came, squirting and soaking the sheets below you.
Bucky’s thrusts grew sloppy as his breathing got heavy and he shot his load into you. “Ohh my god,” he repeated as he rode out his high.
When you were both finished, he carefully removed himself from inside of you and lowered your legs slowly. You were breathless, laying limp with your eyes closed, utterly spent after the amount of intense orgasms you had. “You with me, baby girl?” Bucky asked, voice dripping with concern and love. 
“Mhm,” you nodded lazily, eyes still closed.
“I’ll be right back. Gonna get a towel to clean you up, okay?” You felt his weight leave the bed and heard the water running in the bathroom. “Gonna be really gentle, okay sweetheart? I just gotta get you all clean.” You shuttered as you felt the towel, still incredibly sensitive. He was so light with his touch, taking his time to make sure that you were all clean. He went back to the bathroom to dispose of the towel and quickly came back to sit beside you on the bed. “Can you drink this for me, baby?” He said, handing you your water bottle from the night table. 
You sat up slowly, grabbing the bottle and taking greedy sips to rehydrate yourself. As much as you loved sex with Bucky, you loved aftercare almost more. You were both so emotional, so full of love for each other, even if he had treated you like his own personal toy just minutes prior. Your wellbeing was always his priority, during and after.
“How you feeling, angel?” He asked, returning the water bottle to the nightstand. “Can you give me words?”
“Feel good,” you said, sleepily. “Tired.” You moved your body so your head was buried in his chest. “Jus’ wanna cuddle with you.”
He smiled, loving the feeling of you in his arms. He loved taking care of you and making you feel safe and comfortable. He rubbed his hand up and down your back in the way he knew you loved. As he held you, he began to feel tears leaking onto his chest. “Hey,” he said, cupping your face in his hands. “What’s wrong? Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?” His eyes were wide with concern.
You shook your head. “No, no, I’m okay. I don’t even know why I’m crying really. Just love you a lot.” 
He kissed your forehead and wiped your tears. “Hey, that’s okay, baby.” He smiled softly. “Lemme give you all the care you need, ‘kay? Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. I know that was a lot for you.”
You nodded before placing your head in the crook of his neck, reveling in the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “Was I good?” you asked quietly.
“Perfect. Absolutely perfect. You always are, angel.” He kissed the top of your head as he held you, letting you use his body for whatever comfort you needed. “Do you wanna take a shower, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if I can walk,” you admitted. 
“Lemme run a bath, okay? Then we can get nice and cozy and go to sleep.” 
Once the bath was full, Bucky picked you up in his strong arms and carried you, placing you down in the warm water before getting in himself. He grabbed your shampoo, running the soap through your hair before taking a bucket and gently washing it out. He repeated the same method with your conditioner, whispering sweet nothings and peppering your face with kisses the whole time. “I love you so much, baby. My perfect angel girl.”
When you were done, he helped you get changed into pajamas and got you settled on the bed. “You need anything else?” he asked.
“Just you,” you mumbled, holding out your hands. 
He smiled warmly as he crawled into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you as you both drifted off into a deep sleep.   
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vaspider · 8 months
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Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.
This year, I have something a little softer.
Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.
"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.
"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.
"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."
He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."
I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.
The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.
It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."
I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.
Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.
Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.
I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.
Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.
Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.
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agi-ppangx · 4 months
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grape soda (lee minho x gn!reader)
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it’d been almost two hours since minho left your apartment to supposedly take a walk after you two had an argument. but he hadn’t come back yet.
“minho, stop—” you cried when you noticed him put on his coat and take the keys from the table by the entrance.
“i’m just gonna go for a walk, okay?” minho interrupted you a little bit too harshly. he noticed how your eyes got even more teary at his tone and he sighed, his face softening. “i’ll be back soon, i just need to clear my mind. if we continue this now i’m pretty sure i’ll say something i’ll regret later. i won’t be out for too long, hm? we’ll talk when i come back.” with that he left you, standing with wet cheeks in the middle of your apartment. your eyes wandered nervously around the place and it was only then when you noticed minho forgot his phone from the kitchen counter.
you were sitting in the living room, bouncing your leg nervously as you once again checked the time. it was getting late and your anxiety only grew bigger. you were wondering if minho was okay and if he was even coming back. he got pretty mad at you, but you weren’t even surprised, knowing that you’d hurt him. you felt like you deserved being yelled at and even if it made you sick in your stomach you wouldn’t have been surprised if minho decided to leave you.
around midnight you heard the keys rustling and the door opening. you rushed to greet minho at the entrance, not caring about the argument anymore. your behaviour caught him off guard and he froze when your arms wrapped around his waist, tears spilling from your eyes. you were mumbling something, but his coat muffled every sound you let out.
“yn, what’s- what’s going on?” minho asked softly, bringing his hand to your hair, patting it a few times. you couldn’t stop crying, but you took a step back and sniffed a few times before attempting to speak again.
“i-i thought you left me,” you admitted, wiping your face. minho chuckled at that, amusement painted on his face. he was genuinely taken-aback - why would you even think about something like that?
minho shook his head and only then did you notice that he was holding a bag in his hand. he placed it gently on the floor and took your hand in his.
“i would never leave you, dummy,” he started, bringing his other hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “i really needed to cool down so it took me a while, but i’m here now, okay?” you sniffed, nodding weakly. you felt so bad about the whole situation.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered. “are we going to talk now?” you then asked anxiously. you weren’t ready to have that conversation yet, but you knew it was inevitable. minho shook his head again.
“no need for that, it’s okay.” you raised your eyebrows. was he going to let it be? after everything you did?
“but—”
“i’m not mad anymore, yn. i thought that through and it’s okay, i know you didn’t mean it. also-” he let go of your hand to pick up the bag from the floor. “-i got us some instant ramen. you must be starving, love.” you let out a loud sob, hiding your face in the palm of your hands. minho closed the gap between you two and placed a few tiny kisses on your temple.
“don’t worry about it anymore,” he mumbled with a soft smile.
“you’re too good to me, you know?” you chuckled through tears, wiping your cheeks. minho laughed at your words, putting his hand in the bag and taking out a purple can.
“oh, i know. who else would buy you your favourite grape soda after an argument, hm?”
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a/n: not proofread at all, wrote it in like 30 minutes i guess...? anyway, please enjoy and remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽
taglist !
@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby
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reminiscingtonight · 1 month
Text
The Thing About Families (Arsenal Style)
Alessia Russo & Russo!reader (Lia Wälti x Russo!reader)
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: A Russo sisters + Lia ft. Kyra story that wrote itself after that picture came out
And The Things You'd Do (Part Two)
[WOSO Masterlist]
“I need your help.”
Growing up as the oldest kid in the family meant you’ve heard this line quite a lot. For your brothers it usually meant helping them sneak out of the house or cover for them as they did god knows what, but for Alessia it usually meant one of two things: organize her laundry or organize her life.
Given that you’ve done all the washing and have neatly stacked her already folded clothes on the edge of her bed, you have a sinking suspicion that this ask has more to do with the latter.
“Rat. What’s up?”
Alessia frowns at the nickname, an insult perched at the end of her tongue. But she seems to think better of it, batting her eyelashes in hopes of seeming more innocent as she latches onto your arm. 
You’re not amused, instantly trying, but failing, to shake her off. “Less, let go!”
“I need your help,” she whines again, digging her heels into the ground. 
You try wrapping your arm around her neck to pull her into a headlock, but the height difference between the two of you means Alessia has no trouble heaving you over her shoulder and onto the couch behind her. You let out a disgruntled yelp, trying to wrestle her for dominance. Alessia simply sits on top of you, hands locking your arms across your own body. 
“Alessia Russo I swear to god, get off!”
“Your baby sister is trying to ask for a favor! Will you just,” she huffs, pinching your side when you try to buck her off of you, “calm down! Just hear me out!”
“I’m kicking you out before Lia gets home. Off!”
How your mom talked you into housing your sister when she moved to Arsenal, you will never know. Lia jumped at the opportunity to help her out, but since she isn’t home right now…
Alessia cringes a bit at your girlfriend’s name and you instantly stop moving. Your eyes narrow dangerously. “What?”
Family is important to you. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Alessia, but there’s also nothing you wouldn’t do for Lia too. You haven’t ever had to make a choice between the two of them, but if you’re going to have to you’re not sure if sisterly love will be enough against how much you love Lia.
“If you don’t tell me what your problem is I will actually kick you out. Talk.”
It only takes two seconds under your glare for Alessia to break. “Kyra won’t stop bugging me!” 
For a second you’re taken back to your childhood, a tiny Alessia sat in your lap, saying the same exact thing about Gio. You had given her a comforting pat on the head and then socked Gio as hard as you could in the arm. But now that you’re in your thirties, you don’t think punching Kyra would be taken as well, by your girlfriend or the other Aussies on the team.
“That sounds like a you problem.” 
And Kyra’s hilarious, you’ll give her that. The younger girl had instantly taken a liking to your sister since the day she arrived. And by liking of course you mean a liking to bothering Alessia. 
But as long as the young Australian keeps bothering Alessia and not you, you don’t really see a problem with her behavior.
Call it karma for everything Alessia has put you through growing up.
“And I love Lia, you know that.”
Your lips pinch into a thin line. “I don’t think I’m liking where this is going. If you’re about to be rude about my girlfriend--”
“Lia needs to stop babying Kyra! Sometimes I just need some peace and quiet at the Colney, and I can’t do that if Kyra keeps bothering me and Lia keeps letting her get away with it!”
Right. That.
It’s not like you haven’t missed it. 
Any time Kyra’s running wild your girlfriend can be found nearby, always quick to soothe any ruffled feathers from the Australian’s adventures. At first Steph was set on Kyra duties, but when it became clear that anyone outside of her chosen Australian/Swedish family were ill-equipped to handle her, Lia was quick to step in. 
You’re not sure what it was that drew Kyra to your girlfriend but Kyra lived for the praise and affection Lia gave her and Lia lived for the adoration from Kyra.
So yeah, it’s cute the way Lia has taken the young girl under her wing. If anything it just makes you want to ask her to marry you and start a family faster.
“Don’t be jealous, rat. If you want Lia to baby you again you can just say so.”
Alessia’s too busy scoffing and objecting to your claim that she’s not expecting it when you dump her off of you and right onto the ground.
---
It only takes a week.
It starts when Lia cancels date night. Kyra’s feeling a bit homesick so Lia invites her for a movie marathon at your place. Of course you’re a little bummed, but it’s not something you can’t reschedule so you just let it go. You find Lia and Kyra teasing each other throughout the night cute enough to replace any hard feelings. 
The next strike comes when you have Lia pinned under you in bed, the two of you making use of an Alessia-less house for the night. Alessia had gone out with Vic for the night, telling you with a wink that she would be catching a ride from the Dutch to practice the next day. Your clothes had gone flying off the second you got home from dinner, but before you could really go down to business you hear the unmistakable sound of your doorbell going off. You pause, lips stilling upon Lia’s neck. 
“Maybe if we don’t do anything they’ll go away.”
The doorbell ringing again has you sighing as Lia gently pushes at your shoulders. “Babe, off,” Lia laughs. She gives you a kiss on her way out but she does in fact leave you in bed to see who’s come to visit so late at night.
You’re off daydreaming about what you’re going to get up to when Lia returns when you hear the unmistakable sound of an Australian accent coming from the living room. 
The pillow isn’t enough to muffle your cry of frustration into it. 
You’re already sighing and throwing on a hoodie when Lia pops her head in, apologetic look on her face.
“Do you want to pop the popcorn or me?”
The last straw occurs when you wake up in the middle of the night a couple days later. You’re not really sure what’s woken you up, but you do find yourself at the edge of the bed. There’s barely a sliver of blanket covering you, but Lia’s warm body wrapped around your back gives you all the heat you need.
Humming, you shift as softly as you can so to not jostle your girlfriend. The original plan is to gently shift the two of you back towards the center of the bed, but when you reach over Lia to make the transition easier, your hand hits the undeniable form of a third body. 
You freeze. 
Hazily opening an eye, you raise your head to look at the other side of the bed. Next to you is Lia, like you expected. What you don’t expect is the snoring Australian sprawled out over Lia's half of the bed.
You have to bite back your groan.
You let out a disgruntled grunt when you settle back onto the tiny piece of the mattress left to you. 
You’re not sure how long you lay there awake and thinking through the best way to go about ridding yourself of the new girl in your bed when a sleepy hand comes up to pat at your cheek. 
“Why are you brooding?”
Although you’re a bit grumpy, the sound of Lia still half asleep brings a smile to your face. 
But when you hear a snort, gurgle, and then snore from the other side of your girlfriend, the look is quick to fall off your face.
“What is she doing here?”
Lia frowns, sleepily rubbing at her eyes. She reads your pout easily. “Kyra was tired.”
“So you let her in our bed? Baby, we have a couch. A very comfy couch.”
Lia raises an eyebrow at you.
After spending the next night sleeping on said couch you come to two conclusions. First, the couch is not as comfortable as you initially thought. Second, Alessia was right.
You corner your sister at training the next day. She looks surprised but follows you when you pull her into a storage closet.
“Okay, how do you want to do it? Should we kidnap and ship her back to Australia?”
Alessia grins, not even needing you to say anything further. “Nah, we can keep her local. I think it’s time the other Aussies get custody, don’t ya think?”
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stairain · 5 months
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Desk Pet.
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Despite knowing the importance of work, Spencer still can't help but distract you in the worst way possible.
Warnings: Sub Spencer, meanish reader, slight pet play (use of nickname puppy), grinding, leg humping, cumming in pants, begging. // Sorry for disappearing! It will happen again!
WC: 3.0K
You were sitting at your desk in your bedroom, intently staring at your computer screen as you tried to file through your work. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration and you were so deep in thought you didn’t even hear your boyfriend Spencer walk into the room. 
He had been working late, so it was just past midnight. His footsteps were silent as he walked past you towards the bed. But he saw you were engrossed in your work and was going to sneak past you without disturbing you, but a thought popped into his mind and he suddenly couldn’t resist.
Biting your lip, you look down at the papers on the table and start to write something down, oblivious to the way Spencer was sneakily padding over to you with a clear intention in mind. You didn't know what he had planned, but you knew you couldn't afford any distractions right now.
He came up behind you and stood at your left-hand side. Your attention was still focused on the papers in front of you, much to his dismay. He leaned in slowly and kissed the right side of your neck, moving any pieces of hair that got in his way. He then nuzzled his face against your neck, his breathing becoming quick and shallow.
A shudder ran up your spine and your heart almost stopped before you processed what was happening as he snapped you out of your work-induced trance. After the initial shock, your eyebrows knit further in annoyance. You had a lot of things to get done, and he sure wasn't helping, and you knew he knew that.
"Not now, Spence. I'm really really busy, do you think you can give me a few hours?"
You try to sound as sweet as possible, because you knew for a fact that he could not wait a few more hours. He was impatient and needy at the worst times, now being one of them. You tried to ignore the warm feeling of his lips pressing tiny kisses against your neck.
“How about now? I just want a little taste..”
His lust blown eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked at you, with a slight playful smile. His voice sounded low and husky and his eyes burned with arousal. His words had a slight edge of desperation to them and he seemed to have no intention of giving up any time soon.
Breaking your gaze from your work you look at him just long enough that those wide eyes of his almost win you over, but you're quick to get back to writing as you shake your head. The desperation was evident in his voice, but you really had so much to do. You just couldn't afford to stop and give him what he wanted.
"Baby, I told you. I'm really busy, be a good boy and be patient for me, please?"
Spencer had looked like a hurt puppy when you turned away from him, he couldn’t believe you didn’t give in after his first time asking. His face twisted into a sad frown as you wrote on your stupid papers. He sighed again and tried harder to get your attention.
“Just a few minutes, please? Do I really have to wait until later?”
He asked pitifully. The puppy dog eyes and little frown that looked so adorable on his face were working overtime to get you to give in and fuck him already.
With a soft chuckle you look at him and shake your head once more. It was always hard to say no to him, and you rarely did, which is why he always took it so hard.
It was always so endearing how desperate he got when he didn't get what he wanted. You really did want to give him what he wanted, but he was far too spoiled already. He had to learn his lesson sooner or later.
"Spence, baby. Go lay down or read a book until I'm finished, I promise after I'm finished we can do whatever you want, okay? You'll be okay waiting for a bit."
He was determined to make you give in by any means necessary. The slacks he neglected to change out of were growing tighter by the second, heavy cock straining against the already uncomfortable material. He was so hard and needy and he didn’t know what he’d do if you kept this up. 
Spencer leaned in closer to you, and his lips pressed against the side of your neck again. This time he sucked and swirled his wet tongue against it, creating a tingling feeling that spread throughout your body. He looked down at you with a pleading look, trying to make you give into his pleading and begging sooner rather than later.
“Please.. I-I can’t wait an entire night to be with you. I just can’t..” He whined, looking at you pitifully. His tone was almost like he was throwing a tantrum, and at this point he might as well have been.
"Well you're going to have to, if I don't get this finished I'm fucked."
You didn't even spare him the glance, already knowing he was giving you those pouty lips and sad puppy eyes. Maybe it was because you really did need to focus, or because you knew if you looked at him for longer than a second you wouldn't be able to.
His bottom lip curled downwards into a pout and he let out a sigh, before slowly leaning back away from you. He took a step back but his eyes remained glued on you. 
“Okay. Fine. I’ll be a good boy..” He whined again, and pouted.
The dejected tone in his voice sent a pang through your heart, and you couldn't help the way you bit your lip in thought at how to proceed this. You knew you had to work, but you also knew how much he loved being around you. Sighing, you speak your compromise.
"Come here."
You called out in a firm voice, waiting for his presence behind you again.
He seemed a little surprised by your rather blunt word choice, but he obeyed nonetheless and came back over to stand behind you. Plus your tone of voice when you called for him turned him on in an instant. You still had your attention on your work and he knew that, but he liked the small progress he was making. 
“What can I do for you, ma’am?”
He was still in a slightly dejected tone, but he had a glimmer of hope. He craved to hear and feel the passion and desire he knew you had inside of you, and he needed it now. 
"Get on the ground."
You offhandedly said, as if it were nothing more than a passing thought. With your rolling office chair, you pushed yourself back a bit so he had more space. Space to sit underneath your desk like a good pet while you finish your work. He was so desperate for your attention, he'd take anything you offered.
The moment he heard those words his heart dropped into his stomach. He was so desperate to be with you, that even being right at your feet was more than he could ever ask for. He loved when you told him what to do and when to do something. He absolutely adored being ordered around.
Spencer was quick to obey you as he fell to his knees and crawled under the desk, waiting for more orders. His eyes burned with lust as he stared up at you. 
Your eyes flickered down at him once he was settled between your legs, and you widened them the littlest bit more, just to tease him. Without another word, you began typing on your computer, seemingly ignoring him after telling him to kneel at your feet like a dog.
To put it simply, he was desperate to be noticed. He wanted your attention so bad he’d do anything for it. He wanted you to acknowledge him, give him the littlest glance and he’d be happy.
Yet, he still knew better than to bother you right now while you were working after already burning that bridge. So he just looked up at you as you typed away on your computer and waited for a sign from you. His eyes locked with yours that were glued to the screen and he looked at you with a gaze full of adoration and worship. 
But you hadn't even been granted five minutes of peace and quiet before you felt him scooting closer towards you. He seemed to take a liking to your right leg, gravitating towards it and not so subtly opening his own legs to slot your calf between them. You stop typing for a moment, but you don't give the satisfaction of sight.
"Spencer."
Voice low and scolding, you warn him with just the call of his name. You thought you had given him more than enough attention, especially after he had been such a brat and refused to leave you alone. He's lucky you even let him sit under your desk, and now he was taking advantage of it.
His eyes darted forward when he heard your low, scolding voice, as if he had been caught. He looked at you with eyes that were positively spilling faux innocence, like he was expecting to be let off the hook.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
Spencer asked quietly, tilting his head to one side. His expression looked hopeful, like he was expecting more. A part of him was hoping to be rewarded for his behavior. He knew that wasn’t the case, though. You never rewarded misbehavior.
"Watch it."
You warned him once again. The tone in your voice was nothing short of intimidating and serious, and yet it did nothing but turn him on even more. You could feel his arousal throbbing against your ankle as he cozied himself up against your leg. You tried to ignore the weight and heat of his shaft pressing on you, but you were just a woman. 
He rested his chin on your knee, eyes wide and sparkling. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked a little confused as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong so as to deserve your warning. You told him to get on the ground, you never told him he couldn’t use your leg to get himself off. He had no idea he was taking advantage of your kindness, and yet had no problem doing it.
“Watch what?”
The brunet asked innocently. He kept his eyes glued to yours, waiting to see what you were going to do, as if challenging you. The longer he looked up at you, the hornier he got. Taking a deep inhale through your nose and rolling your eyes, you snap at him. 
"I've told you countless times, I need to get my work done. I can't give you what you want."
You reminded him once again, eyes darting everywhere on the desk and yet not one glance underneath it. You had hardly registered the way his hips were slowly rolling down against your leg and how his plush pink lips parted with a soft moan. He was grinding against you like a bitch in heat, barely listening to a word you said at this point. 
He let out a whimper as he pushed the pulsing head of his dick against you without a care in the world. Those wide, adorable brown eyes of his looked so desperate as he continued to look up and try his best as to not be caught by you. You couldn't see it, but you felt his arms hook around your leg for more leverage to hump against you pathetically. 
“I know, I know. I just–can’t wait. It has to be you..” 
Your breath hitched as your breath got caught in your throat. Something about those words he just whimpered out, they were winning you over. You purse your lips with a sigh and look down at the pathetic puppy at your feet. The movements of his hips and crotch had slowed down, but you could tell he was just itching to start again. The way his eyebrows were slightly upturned in the temptation of bliss, and the soft puffs of a whimper leaving his mouth. It was too much, and you were worn weak.
"You have five minutes, if you don't get off by then, you leave this room. Understood?"
Spencer smiled widely when he heard what you agreed to, and he crawled forward more to hug your leg closer to his chest. Pressing his forehead against your knee, he made small, soft whimpering noises as he got to work. 
“Yes, Ma’am. I understand. Five minutes.” 
He recited back to you as coherently as he could, already lost in the feeling of your unmoving ankle colliding so deliciously with his leaking cock. He was staining the insides of his boxers with sticky warm precum, and the wetness made his head spin and his breath shallow.
Turning your attention back to the work at hand and not the bitch at your feet, you shake your head and try your hardest to ignore the way he was practically humping your leg at this point. He was trying his hardest to keep quiet, but it obviously wasn't working. If Spencer was anything, it was vocal when he felt his best. You could feel every stutter of his hips and the way the rest of his body shook when he pressed his arousal harder against the bone of your calf. You'd be lying if you told yourself this wasn't turning you on beyond belief, ignoring him as he used you for his own pleasure.
He pushed himself against your leg some more, but he didn’t push it too far for now. You knew he was about to burst, but he tried so hard to hold it in to enjoy it. He was breathing more heavily as instinctively kissed your knee. His sounds of need became louder with every hump.
“Oh, fuck.” 
He shuddered out, his voice still low and sultry and nothing short of needy. His whole body quivered with the amount of effort he was using to hold on. Not only would it be humiliating to have finished not even thirty seconds after you granted him permission to get himself off, but it would be an utter waste of time. 
As the seconds ticked by and approached his time limit, the push and pull of his lower body was almost maddening. He was rubbing himself so hard against you through his pants, and you secretly hoped he'd be able to finish in five minutes, considering how badly you wanted to see him make a mess without even having to touch him, let alone pay attention to him.
Spencer looked up at you, and he still had four minutes to go before his time was up. He was already out of control, and it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back.
He kept rubbing himself on you and making those low, desperate sounds. He was going to explode soon, and although unlikely, he hoped that you would stop working when those five minutes were up. He hoped you would finally pay attention to him. He was so needy and desperate. He wanted you now. 
While he was having the time of his life grinding against you, it just wasn’t what he really needed. He needed to be buried inside of you, pushing as deep as he possibly can as your cunt sucked him in even further. He needed to have you gushing around him as his elbows gave out on him as he tried his hardest to keep fucking you through his third orgasm. 
But he wasn’t going to get that, not tonight. 
Deciding to try and be nicer to your poor boy, you move one hand away from your work and card it through his soft curls. Running your nails against his scalp, back and forth, as if to imitate the cant of his hips. It almost served as a silent praise, 'what a good job you're doing' you could have said, but you had a demeanor to keep up and a report to write up.
He couldn’t help the pathetic groan that was punched out of him at your touch. You always knew where he loved being touched the most, and you knew it never felt as good when he did it himself. 
“Oh, fuck–please.”
The words left his mouth in a hiss as he pushed himself more against you. His jaw shook and his sounds grew in intensity as his body froze and he squeezed your leg impossibly tighter. It wasn't a moment later that you felt his entire body go rigid against you and his breath caught in his throat in what sounded like a choked sob.
The tightness of Spencer’s pants did nothing to mask his shame as he exploded into the poor stained fabric. His eyes instantly found your face and almost forced you to look right back at him as he finished. His mouth was quivering as pathetic whimpers and moans punched their way out of his throat. Thick spurts of warm cum made their way into his boxers. He had positively soaked the front of his pants, with a minute left to spare.
The moment he finished, he fell flat against you and his hand reached out and grabbed your thigh, clinging onto you like he was dying and you were his lifeline. His head was pressed firmly against your leg and he was still shaking and breathing heavily from his release.
His face was burning red from the strain he just went through. He felt as though he shot out his soul in the process of drenching himself. He had a stupid grin on his face as he looked up at you with pleading eyes.
“Can I stay now?” He asked in a desperate tone, with those same damned puppy dog eyes.
Rolling your eyes, you smile down at him and suck on your teeth. He always knew how to push your buttons and get what he wanted, every single time.
“Fine. But keep those hands to yourself.”
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sacharinee · 10 months
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pairing: bestfriend!peter parker x fem!reader
sypnosis: after peter misses his chance to ask you out to the homecoming dance, he has to suffer the consequences of his own actions
wc: 1200+
a/n: hiii!! i have the urge to write again bc im bored and i dont wanna do my summer course work. this prompt is based on this post and loosely based on that one scene in the movie ladybird when she gets picked up by her date. i wrote this super quickly so not the best but i hope u enjoy :)
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peter had it first. he had the idea, the flowers, the poster, your favorite chocolate strawberries all ready for you. until brad davis came in and stole everything. 
now he has nothing. he’s on your bed munching on the melty strawberries as he watches you get ready for the dance; you’ve asked for his help in choosing which dress you should go for. 
“okay how ‘bout this one, pete?” the boy glances up at you, mid-chew with his mouth open. 
his eyes snake over the outfit you’ve chosen. you do a swift twirl to show off the pretty soft blue satin dress that falls down to your mid-thigh with an open back. the skirt of your dress rides a bit high revealing a little too much. peter gulps, running his hands down his legs, immediately your sweet honey perfume floods his senses, his brain feels a little fuzzy, and he thinks the room gets smaller while his pants get a tiny bit tighter.
however, your eyes are what he takes in the most. you look eager, nervous about his approval, and hopeful for his admission.
his eyes widen as he gives you a soft nod and a pursed smile, “super pretty.”
you stare back at peter, his hair is flared, and you see chocolate smeared on his bottom lip. his posture looks defeated and you can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with him.
you give him a sour yet confused face, “why is your face like that?”
peter’s eyebrows furrow at your expression, “my face- why is my face like what?” 
“like…” you take a moment to think, “like- you look like that chef in that one movie with the rat, he’s got that same awkward funny looking face.”
peter barks out a laugh in disbelief, “alfredo linguini?? from ratatouille?!” “yea! that guy.” 
the boy in front of you offers you a pout and rubs his eyes, “thanks.”
“sure thing.” peter glazes over your seamless makeup when you take a seat next to him, “so, you’re really not coming? why not? it’ll be fun, plus all of our friends are going” you whine. 
peter kicks himself every day since you got asked out to homecoming by brad. he knows he should have made his proposal to you sooner, but now that he missed his chance, he feels like he’s lost you. 
“oh, so brad’s our friend now? and nah, it’s alright. i’m just gonna go patrolling tonight, might get some good action.” his eyebrows suggestively 
 you muster up a smirk and breathe out a laugh, “right. maybe you’ll find your own ‘cupid of crime’ that’ll show you a good time.” 
peter groans at you, “oh my god, margot robbie is so-”
honk!
“oh,” your ears perk up at the sudden interruption, “i guess that’s my date.” you quickly stand up and straighten your dress, taking nervous breaths. 
“i’m good right? my dress? face? hair?” your fingers run through your shiny locks, “its- i’m, i’m okay?”
peter has an indiscernible look plastered on his face as he gazes out the window and back at you. he’s shocked you’d settle for this, and even more appalled at you’re excitement to go with a douchebag who can’t even meet you at the front door. he knows you deserve better than this, and he knows he would treat you so much better with much less than your date. his stomach turns upside down and he feels his face get hot, breathing through his nostrils as he struggles to control his disbelief. he slowly stands up and meets your anxious expression peering up at him.
“you aren’t gonna get in a car with a guy who honks, are you?” 
it’s almost as if the entire atmosphere shifts. peter studies your appearance. your face shimmered sanguinely regardless, brighter than the glitter that sparkled atop your eyelids.
it was safe to say you were excited to go to the dance, even if your date wasn’t your first choice. you had been waiting endlessly for peter to ask you to homecoming. you were almost depressed at the thought thinking your crush didn’t like you back, but even more upset at the fact that your best friend didn’t even want to take you as his date, romantically or not. 
you remembered the feeling of delight swirling through your body as betty gushed about ned asking her to the dance, and mj agreeing to harry’s proposal. 
you only wanted the same for yourself. the same thrill and warm feeling of someone wanting to take you as their date. you wanted more than anything for it to be peter, but you figured he simply didn’t think of you like that as empty time and hopeless anticipation went by. so yes, you did settle for brad davis. he’s only ever been sweet to you, with harmless flirting and sultry smiles in the halls. plus you had a hunch about peter’s displeasing stance on the man, and presumed this may have tipped peter over just the right amount. 
you simply blink at his desperate eyes and nod, your adamant expression not wavering, “i think, yes, i am.”
you offer him a wistful smile when you brush past him, grabbing your purse on the way.
“y/n, stop.” peter’s finger’s wrap around your small wrist, your charm bracelet dangling against his hand.
“are you serious? what, the shithead can’t walk a few feet and knock on the door like a real man?”
“peter!” you snatch your wrist back and his hands rise.
you feel heat rushing up your neck and settling behind your ears. you had wanted a reaction out of peter when brad asked you out, yes, but the entitlement he has to mention about the manhood of brad angered you.
“i’m just saying,” he steps back from you, licking his dry lips while he chuckles back at you. “a guy who doesn’t have the balls to greet you at your doorstep isn’t worth falling for.” 
you scoff at him, he was so sweet and now he’s only taking his anger out on you. “well it’s a good thing that he’s just a friend then. what’s it to you anyways?”
peter disregards your last statement, “a friend?! y/n/n, listen to me. you’re being naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.”
another honk outside pierces your ears, yet you can’t seem to shake your stare on the boy before you. you narrow your eyes at him.
“you sound jealous.”
peter sputters nonsense out and breaks his eyesight away from you, nervously running his hands through his curls.
“jealous? me? pfft. never. i’m not jealous, i’m- i’m being absolutely reasonable.”
you keep your eyes on him as he looks down at the carpet floor. he sighs and drops down at your chair, scratching the wood on your desk. his head shakes and ever so softly murmurs, “seriously, why are you going out with him?”
peter continues to stare at the rotten wood he’s chipping, “brad asked me to be his date, so i’m going whether you like it or not. unless,” peter glances back up at you.
“there’s something you’re not telling me.”
hope bubbles down in your stomach, and you anticipate his confession, waiting to hear the words of his true feelings that you know for certain are deep down inside him.
except, he doesn’t.
the boy only blankly stares at your desk, clenching his jaw, and drowns everything inside, letting you down yet another time. you turn away, disappointed in peter, ready to leave him alone for all the false hope and hurt he has caused you. 
“right, well, when your balls finally drop, let me know. i’ll be at the dance with my date.” 
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livingemkayde · 9 months
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ride
neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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Warnings: Rated 18+. Minors please dni. Smut. fingering f!receiving, grinding/dry humping, pet name (angel, baby), swearing. Not proof read.
a/n: bit the bullet and wrote something about joel. This was meant to be a one shot (a really fucking long one-shot holy shit) but if you guys want more parts just comment or lmk. Taking a small teeny tiny break from my beloved din (he will forever and always be the standard tho lol).
wc: 4k
this is the first installment of my small dbf!joel mini series!
find the next parts in my masterlist
“Hello?” you shout as you walk through the threshold of your home — your childhood home. You haven’t been back in Texas for a couple years. Your studies and research have admittedly kept you too busy and sometimes your dad would fly out to see you in California. 
You really haven’t been back since two Christmases ago. And by really you mean you haven’t seen Joel since two Christmases ago. 
You’d been desperate for graduation some weeks ago, and now that you’re back, you remember how slow Austin is. And how small. How everyone knows each other and each other’s business. But sometimes that’s kinda nice. 
Word spread quickly about your recent graduation and your dad kept bothering you about having a party — but it all seemed silly to you. 
He isn’t the party planning type, so naturally, it fell through the cracks. He did say something about having Joel and Sarah over instead. That got your attention. You haven’t seen your neighbor from across the street in a couple years, his daughter even longer. You wonder how grown up she is—you miss them both.
You know your dad and Joel have gotten closer since you’ve been gone. When you were younger, they were always friends, but more so in a ‘we’re neighbors and we both have daughters so let’s hang out a couple times a week’ type of way. But after your sparse visits and facetime calls, you can tell they’ve gotten close. Really close. The kind of friend that has keys to your front door and can ‘use my grill whenever you want ol’man’ said your dad. The kind of friend that spends every holiday together, and treats each other's kids as their own. 
“Hello?” you try again as you lug a suitcase and duffle bag into the foyer. You had shipped all your belongings back to Austin from California a couple days ago and hopped on a flight with no return ticket. It felt nice to be home — you were excited for your first summer with no prospects of school looming around the fast approaching September. 
“Nice welcome,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the front door. You figure your dad might be out. It's a Saturday — and it’s fucking hot. You huff and shrug out of our cardigan, placing it on the banister of the stairs before rolling up your sleeves. 
You haul your suitcase up the stairs and abandon it on the floor of your bedroom — partially unzipped from digging a pair of shorts and a tank top out before making your way downstairs. 
You shuffle into the kitchen to get a drink— a note on the fridge catches your eye. 
Someone’s number. And your name underneath it. 
You recognize the area code as someone who lives in Austin, but you aren’t sure whose it is — let alone why your name is written under it. Like someone called asking for you and your dad was too forgetful to tell you.
You brush it off and move towards the whiteboard which hangs on the fridge next to the note. 
It’s your dad’s handwriting, you recognize it. It’s a list of stuff your dad had planned for the day. 
Grocery 
Home Depot
Joel’s
You smile at his poorly articulated plans and at Joel’s name at the bottom of the list. You’re happy they can keep each other company. Sarah is at that age where all she wants to do is hang out with friends at the mall, and you’ve been away for four years. You note your dad is probably with Joel. You didn’t get a chance to text him when you landed so you don’t blame him for not being around when you got back. 
You grab a mug from a cabinet and fill it with ice, opening the fridge to grab some lemonade. When you begin pouring, you can hear the door open from the foyer directly ahead of you. 
A loud chorus of laughter rings through your ears when the door opens and you look up from the drink you’re pouring to the door. 
Your dad enters first, his figure hunched over, laughing, while his hand jiggles the keys out of the front door. 
You can hear another laugh join from behind him. It’s not as loud or obnoxious (not that your dad is obnoxious) but settles for a small huff and a couple ha ha’s. You know who it is before you can see him. You can see the peak of curly brown hair follow in as your dad’s eyes meet yours. 
“Baby!” he shouts, drops his hand from the door — the keys still hanging from the lock — and moves towards you in the kitchen. You abandon your drink and move to hug him. He gives you a big hug, lifting you off your feet and sets you back down while giving you a kiss on the forehead. 
“Hey dad,” you say while straightening out your all too small tank-top you wouldn't have worn if you had known there was going to be company. Especially this kind of company. 
“You shoulda told me you landed! I was waiting to pick you up from the airport,” he notes while putting his hand on his hip. You can see Joel out of the corner of your eye, picking the keys out of the lock and shrugging off his light jacket — showing his gray t-shirt which lies under. 
You flush. 
“No, no dad —” you chuckle, breathless. “It’s okay. Taxi was faster. You always get lost around the airport.” 
“Damn signs get me all turned around,” he mutters under his breath while making his way past you into the kitchen. 
“You ‘member Joel right?” your dad jokingly asks from the kitchen. He’s already got his head buried in the fridge looking for something to eat. 
“Yes. Ha ha dad —” you turn your head from the kitchen and look up at Joel, “— hey,” your arms come to wrap around your torso, suddenly a little insecure about your state of dress. 
“Hey, kid,” he replies coolly. Settling into the middle of the foyer. His head bends to the side slightly but he keeps his eyes trained on you. He looks at you through hooded eyes. 
“So biology —” he moves past you to follow your dad into the kitchen, you trail after him, “too smart for your ol’man now.” 
“Hardly,” you say as you all settle in the kitchen. You dad — who still has his head in the fridge — snorts. He mumbles something about plants, doctors, and I ain’t that old from behind the door. 
Your dad tosses Joel a can of beer and he catches it. He pulls one out for himself and shuts the fridge. They both swig the cold beer — relief hits them after being in the heat. 
“Congratulations are in order,” Joel says and takes another sip — his eyes don’t leave yours as he tilts his head back, you watch his Adam's apple bob up and down. He leans back against the counter, facing you, arms crossed.
“Yeah…thanks,” you reply sheepishly as you sit at the island chairs giving him a small smile — the counter separating you. 
“No neighborhood party?” Joel says while turning his head to look at your dad. 
“I — I tried my fuckin’ best. You know how hard it is to get everyone’s number?” your dad laughs while taking another sip of his beer, running a hand over his forehead — rubbing his eyes. 
“Just knock on people’s doors man — it ain’t that hard,” Joel quips back teasingly while chuckling. Your dad shoves him playfully. You smile at them. They remind you of teenage boys. Or frat boys. You laugh at both images. 
“You want a party, kiddo?” your dad looks at you sheepishly, like he really means it. 
Maybe it would be nice to see the people in your neighborhood, but the thought of a party dedicated all to you seemed overkill. 
“No…s'alright,” you reply, sipping on some lemonade. Your eyes quickly shift to cheat a glance at Joel, but he’s already looking at you. You avert your eyes quickly.
“Maybe barbecue. Not a party. Barbecue,” your dad throws out his arms and says the words like he’s testing the idea to you and Joel. You shrug with a smile in response and Joel tips his beer to your dad and takes another swig. 
The phone rings in the other room. You honestly still can’t believe your dad still has a landline. He rushes to get it, leaving you and Joel alone in the kitchen. 
“Remind me where you were at again?” he says, pushing off the back counter and leaning forward on the island to meet your eye. 
“USC,” you reply before bringing your lips to the rim of the glass again. 
“That’s right,” he says and stands back up straight. “Smart girl,” he adds — lowly — and you sort of freeze. 
His words — even though seemingly not sexual or suggestive — send a heat down to the place between your legs. You push your thighs together and pray he doesn’t notice. 
“You liked it?” He adds. 
“Loved it. The bio program there was really great,” you say, playing with your cup’s handle.
“How’ve you been?” you ask, curious. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand. 
“M’fine. Same as always,” he says, meeting your eye. 
“Sarah?” you ask, tilting your head. 
“Good. Into boys now or somethin’,” he notes, shaking his head. 
“‘S normal,” you chuckle. He gives you a certain look that makes your head spin. It’s suddenly too hot in this house despite the constant flow of your air conditioning. 
“I guess,” he mumbles. 
Your dad emerges from the living room, shaking his head. 
“Fuckin’ kid again. Always callin’ my phone like it’s a goddamn hotline or somethin’,” he mumbles as he enters. He looks up to you, “Some kid is always callin’ the house askin’ for you,” he nods in your direction. 
“Who?” you ask, curious, and now — maybe a bit on edge because of Joel.
“Dunno. Some kid named Liam. Said he went to highschool with you,” he says, sitting across from you, Joel somewhat behind him. 
“Always askin’ if you’re home yet — you know this guy kiddo?” he asks, his head quips to look at you. 
Suddenly it feels like all eyes are on you, because they are. Joel’s are trained carefully on you, waiting for your response. You glance up at him and quickly look back down to meet your dad’s gaze. 
You did know him —  Liam. An old fling from high school. A ‘friends with benefits’ sort of thing, but you had ended it pretty quickly after school finished. You made it your mission to go to college with no strings attached to anyone. He tried to keep it in touch through college but you eventually attempted to ghost him — you thought it was successful until now. 
Your eyes widen. 
“Uh—yeah. I guess,” you flush and look down to your fingers around the glass of lemonade. You pick at the skin there. “Boyfriend from high school, dad.” 
“Huh. Don't ring a bell,” he says, and you chuckle silently. 
You don’t miss Joel’s unmoving face. Though he looks unbothered. You have to admit — you’re a bit disappointed by that. 
“His number’s on the fridge. Wrote it down the first time he called and forgot to ring you ‘bout it,” he gestured to the note. 
“Geez. Thanks dad,” you move to pick the note off the fridge and put it in your pocket. No use in leaving it up there for the whole world to see. 
Joel’s eyes follow you, and trail to the note being shoved into your pocket. 
“I should go. Gotta pick up somethin’ from the office,” he says as he breaks his gaze to look at his watch.
“Yeah, yeah sure. She’ll walk you out. I’m beat,” your dad gestures in your direction while making his way towards the couch in the living room. Joel waves ‘bye’ and your dad follows suit —  holding his hand up with his back still turned towards you. He disappears out of sight. You can hear the TV click on, and some FBI drama series begins to echo loudly through the house. 
You make your way to the door, Joel follows suit. When you reach the foyer, you bend down to pick his jacket up from the bench. You hold it out to him, he takes it — and when your hands brush against each other — you gasp. A loud gasp. Loud enough for Joel to definitely hear it, but not loud enough for your dad to hear over the sounds of gunshots and some yelling.
Your eyes snap up to look at his, to find them already staring back at you. You drop his gaze quickly and let go of his jacket. 
“I’m actually gonna head out too. I’ll walk you to your truck,” you say, trying to be polite. You shake your head at the embarrassment you feel because he definitely just heard you gasp like a teenager over your hands brushing. 
You step out, certain your dad is already drifting to sleep on the couch. 
The sunset hits your face and you squint under its rays. Joel follows you out the door, shutting it behind him. 
You see his truck sitting a house down from yours and begin to walk with Joel settling next to you. 
“You goin’ to see him?” he asks, not meeting your eye. 
“Who?” you reply —  teasing. 
“Don’t play dumb. That boy botherin’ you?” he asks, while approaching his truck. You both settle into some slow steps until you’re leaning against the side of his black flatbed and he’s standing in front of you. 
“What’s it to you?” you ask, teasing again. 
“Nothin’—” he replies, shaking his head and looking past the truck, to his house across the street. “Didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” 
“Wasn’t really my boyfriend. Just easier to explain that to my dad than what it really was,” you reply, trying to meet his eye. Trying to get an indication of — anything. 
A beat. 
He doesn’t meet your eye. 
Another beat. 
“‘N what was it really?” he asks, shoving his hands into his front pockets. 
“Thought it was nothin’ to you,” you bite back with a smirk.
“Yeah, well maybe it’s somethin’ —” he catches your gaze for a moment before looking down at the concrete. You cross your arms. “— if he’s botherin’ you.” 
“He’s not bothering me. Just an old…friend,” you say with a smirk playing on your lips. 
“Friend? Got any other ‘friends’ I gotta worry about?” He quips back. It's playful. 
“Didn’t know you worried about me,” you say with a small smile.
“Only when your ‘friend’ calls the house twice a week sayin’ you don’t pick up his calls.” 
“Yeah well I've had other things on my mind.” You look at him. Really look at him. It forces his gaze to meet yours. 
He drops it quickly. 
Some silence. 
Fuck, what is happening? 
“Y’wanna ride?” His head gestures to the truck behind you. You find yourself nodding, and moving towards the passenger seat door. Joel opens it for you, you flush and almost lose balance while hoisting yourself in. You mumble a small thank you and tell him you were actually planning to just go to the library near your house to pick up a couple books.
He starts the engine and begins to pull out onto the street.
“Books?” He follows up. 
“Gonna continue some research while I look for a job,” you say, and pick at your fingers in your lap. 
“Could always babysit Sarah,” he teases.
“16’s a little old for a babysitter? Don’t you think?” you quip.
You settle into a soft silence after your laughter dies down. He turns down some streets and settles on the main road. The radio is off. You wonder if he drives in silence when he’s alone. You know Sarah liked it when the radio was blasting in the car. 
“So, there’s no other…” he starts, a lazy hand placed over the top of the steering wheel. “no one else?” he finishes, awkwardly. 
His hand comes down the center console to rest on the gear stick.
“You’re asking me if I'm dating?” you chuckle a bit, peaking over at him. He keeps his eyes on the road. “God, you’re worse than my dad.” 
“Wouldn’t say that, angel.” 
Fuck. 
The nickname rolls right off his tongue and hits you between your legs. You shuffle in your seat. You don’t know how much longer you can do this before you soak through your shorts. 
You continue to sneak glances at him. 
“No. I’m not,” you answer his question from before. 
“Hm,” is all he says, rounding the corner. 
“Hm?” you reply — teasing him. “You got something to say?” 
 “Just surprised is all,” he says, more serious. 
“Yeah?” You reply, mostly because you want to hear him talk more but partially because you have no idea what to say.
“Mhm —” he throws a glance in your direction “—unless you’re gonna finally give that poor boy a chance.” 
“Probably not. He’s…boring,” you answer like you’re thinking about it.
“Boring? That it?” He says. 
“Yeah. Or maybe I’m just looking for something else,” you try to meet his gaze but he focuses on the road. 
“Sure —” he replies “— just didn’t think a pretty girl like you would be single after college.”
Pretty. Pretty. 
Joel Miller just called you pretty and didn’t even bat an eye. You can feel the wet spot in your panties begin to grow and you shuffle again, rearranging in the passenger. 
Is this real? 
Or is it years of built up sexual frustrations about your dad’s best friend building up and threatening to spill over at the sound of him calling you pretty? 
It seemed innocent enough. 
But you can’t help but feel something between you. 
Something different. 
Like maybe he doesn’t think of you as an innocent little girl anymore. 
You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe it’s the heat. Or maybe it's the enormous wet spot growing in your panties from a few words thrown carelessly your way. But you want him. Really want him. And you know he would never make the first move. So you do it for him. 
You reach out — tentatively — to the center console to grab his hand on the gear shift. He looks at you, and you meet his eye. There’s a sort of darkness behind his pupils — like his irises have gone a shade darker and you didn’t notice. You lead his hand over to your lap, bringing it down so his fingertips rest on the inside of your thigh. 
You can hear both of your uncontrolled breathing. Yours sounds more like a gasp at his touch, while he lets out a sharp breath when his hand ventures into your space. 
After a couple seconds, he squeezes your thigh in his palm and you sigh. The truck drives over an especially rough patch of road and it jostles your body. His fingers threaten to make their way higher. You squirm in anticipation. 
“Quit moving,” is all he says with a deep voice, his eyes still on the road. 
You stop squirming, despite your wanting anticipation and a nervous cloud that blankets your mind. 
But his words only spur you on further — only makes you want more. 
His pinky finger toys with the hem of your shorts, you part your legs for him, and he scoffs. 
“What I say?” He grabs your thigh roughly. Splits them apart, and slips his hand under your shorts, finding the soft fabric of your panties. He slowly runs his finger over your clit, teasing downward. 
“Fuck,” he mumbles. You squeak quietly in response. 
“You wet?” Your eyes shut, “Huh angel?” 
You nod, but that makes him let out a small tsk sound. 
“Words,” he demands. 
“Y-yes. Yes,” you let out. 
He ventures lower, and you suddenly worry about his reaction to how wet you are, but he lets out a growl from deep in his throat and pulls your panties to the side. 
“Fuck. Used to be such a good girl.” his thumb nudges your clit as his middle finger touches your aching entrance, gathering your slick. “Now look at you. Fuckin' soaked. Clenching around nothin',"
“F-fuck—Joel—p-please.”  
He only scoffs in response. 
How can he be so focused on the road while he’s got his hand down your pants? 
His finger still toys at your clit, making you moan and whimper. You feel close just from that. You might come, embarrassingly fast — with no penetration — and you don’t want this to end so you put a light hand on his wrist and he stops his movements. 
“P-pull over. Please pull over.” 
He does, he pulls over to some side street. It's late now, the sun just barely peaks over the horizon and you’re both met in a dark dusky light. 
He puts the car in park with the same hand that was just toying with you, that still has your wetness all over it — you flush. 
You expect him to continue, to put his hand back down your pants. But he looks down at his fingers. Inspecting his hand under the soft light. 
“You tryin’ to get us killed?” 
“No,” you reply softly. 
“Your dad would have my neck,” he says, bringing his fingers to his lips. Oh my god. 
“I know,” you whisper, entranced by his movements, “But I'm all grown up.” 
He lets out a puff. 
He sits there for a long time. He doesn’t meet your eye. You’re on the edge of your seat waiting for something to be said. Anything. Your orgasm is long forgotten under all the uncertainty. 
“Take your shorts off," he says, waving a hand in your direction. 
“What?” You ask, surprised. 
"Shorts," he leans over to grab your face, "Now."
He lets your face go, and you slip your shorts off, face flushing in embarrassment. He watches you the whole time, seeing you bare for him makes him groan a bit — you like the sound of it.
He grabs you then, lifting you off your seat, so you bring one leg over his body, straddling him. The steering wheel digs into your back. When you’re fully seated, you can feel his length, hard and wanting, press into your core. It makes your head tilt back as you grind down on instinct. 
He grabs your hips to stop your movement. 
“Please Joel—I-please f—” he slides a finger through your folds and cups your core with his hand. 
You moan loudly, and whimper at the feeling of his breath so close to your face. 
“Quiet.” You grind down in his hand, he lets you. “‘Less you want someone on the street hearin’ you.” 
“Joel…” you let out in a pathetic whine. 
He sinks a finger into you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion. He meets your eye. His brows furrow almost like he feels sorry for you.
When he feels how wet you are, he sinks in a second. He lets out a god as you grind down against his thrusts, the palm of his hand hitting your clit just right —like you’re close already. 
“Fuck baby.” He groans when he feels your walls tighten around his thick fingers. “Already?” 
“Joel—I—fuck-p-please—ah—” 
His fingers sink deeper. You throw your head back, your back hitting the steering wheel. 
You both know you’re close, just a bit more and you’re gonna come, embarrassingly quick.
"That's it—c'mon angel. Know you want it," he pants, you whimper in response.
But his phone rings. And he looks down to the center console where it’s buzzing, and sees your dad’s name pop up. 
His hand stops, and you whine in protest, but he throws you a knowing look, your eyes meeting him then down to the phone. 
You go rigid. 
You look back at him, panic in your eyes, as everything kinda floods back. Like the fact that your dad’s best friend almost made you come in his truck. 
He picks up the phone, and holds it to his ear. He gives you a ‘be quiet’ motion and you sink back into his lap. 
“What’s up?” He answers. 
You seen my daughter? I woke up and she was gone. 
Your eyes widen. 
“Uh—yeah. I drove her to the library. Figure she’s still there,” he says, coolly, like he wasn’t seconds from making you come all over his hand. In his lap. 
Oh. 
Some silence. You can tell Joel is waiting with bated breath. 
Okay. Thanks. 
“Yeah no problem,” Joel responds. 
Alright. See you later.
“Yup,” he says, and hangs up quickly. 
He looks back at you, and down to your cunt, bare for him, in his truck.
Fuck. 
_
part ii
1K notes · View notes
pwncez · 10 months
Text
⠀ ⠀ ℐℱ 𝒪ℛ𝒜𝒩𝒢ℰ 𝒲𝒜𝒮 𝒜 𝒫ℒ𝒜𝒞ℰ .ᐟ
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꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ 12.8k word count , black fem reader [ she / her prnz ] , both you and izu’ are 21 , mean farmer boy izu’ , oral sex [ r. + i. receiving ] , dom / sub dynamics , sex in a barn , daddy kink , big dick izu , slight bratty reader , pet name usage [ ex. baby, honey, shortstuff ] , creampie , bit of cum inflation , cervix kissing , izu’ doesn’t find cussin’ ladylike , izu’ is also huge in this so . . i don’t care how tall you are he’s bigger .
milkie’z note to you .ᐟ . . . smthg to keep u cutiez satiated while i study mi lil tushie off ໒꒰ ♡◞ ˕ ก ꒱১ < 3 i wrote dis like . . a year ago now ‘n only loosely edited it sooo my style may be a lil wonkyyy . have fun readin’ n minorzzzzz Do Not Interact !
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it’s true.
you know — what they say about the stars being more brighter, more irradiant . . . vibrant in the countryside. growing up in the city, you had thought it was a lie. sure, sometimes you had to squint past thin layers of smog and gloom, but you could always see the stars just fine. distant, celestial bodies made up of hydrogen and helium, floating kilometers, light years away — its always fascinated you. it being not only stars, but space, time, the idea of knowing that you reside on a tiny, floating rock with almost eight billion other people.
moving from an almost two million people populated city to little sycamore square, seeded right near the border of georgia and alabama on a measly two hundred and fifty acres of land wasn’t a change you would have considered trivial nor minor. no, it took a lot of thought — literal years of weighing pros and cons until you just decided, screw it, you simply couldn’t take it anymore. the constant whirring of helicopters circling the entire city, spine vibrating honks of cars and double decker buses aching your sensitive ears as they sped down the three lane street a block away from your home, and constant stories of robberies and gun violence on every breaking news channel you flicked through on tv, to modestly put it, did not sit right within your spirit.
your uncle maevis, the deemed black sheep of the family, had ran off from the city when he was eighteen years old. no one had heard from him in years until there was a call from him to your mother fifteen years later, when you were twelve, telling her that he had became the mayor of some quaint, little town named sycamore square and gotten married to the town’s pastry shop’s owner.
from then on, you suppose that you and your uncle maevis grow close. he apologizes for leaving the family on such a bad note, realized that it was wrong for not checking in sooner ( could’ve spared your grandparents the dozen missing persons report they had battered the police into filing every couple years ). you and him exchange letters, talk on the phone, he even began to send you pictures and postcards of the town’s beautiful scenery.
and in a way, you fall in love with sycamore square without even needing to physically be there.
breaking the news to your parents that you wanted to leave the bird’s nest when freshly turned eighteen wasn’t easy — not by a landslide. constant asks of ‘ are you sure? ’ and snide comments of the town potentially having ‘ mountain lions ’ and ‘ roaming bears ’ were propelled into your ears as a last minute save to get you to stay.
but, you had already made up your stubborn, little mind. you were leaving and there was not a thing they were able to do about it. you were a legal adult, they couldn’t chain you to the porch steps even if they tried.
uncle maevis and his wife anna welcome you into their home with open arms and you quickly adapt to your new life there, living as the mayor’s niece.
to a certain extent, you were treated almost as if you had been a celebrity.
upon your first week living there, dozens after dozens of homemade pies, fruit baskets, and bouquets of beautiful flowers were sent to your home. the town even threw you something close to a ‘ homecoming ’ ceremony to express their happiness and gratitude of having someone of sweet grace and prestige move down to their little neighborhood. you’re aware that everyone takes liking to you . . . and quite quickly, even so.
in that case, everyone aside from him.
a soft breath of air pushes past your nostrils as your eyes catch on glints of forest green shaded beneath jet black curls that flop and dance in the comforting wind.
izuku midoriya.
everyone in town calls him ‘zuku, ‘zu, or simply midoriya. he had caught your eye on your third day having been moved to sycamore square. back then, he had been eighteen too, but he was so . . big. his stature was one of the first things you noticed about him.
natural, refined, sterling hard muscle cloaked with smooth, ivory skin, dotted with speckly freckles the color of honey. through enough gossip and factitiously-innocent asked questions to your auntie anna, you’ve come to learn that izuku has lived in sycamore square for almost his entire life.
him and his grandma reside over near the outskirts of town on a few, large acres of land in a white, oak trimmed farmhouse that’s been passed down through his family for generations.
some mornings, when you go to sit out on the porch swing to watch the rising sun bring in its rays of light with a nice, hot cup of coffee in hand, if you squint hard enough, you can see him on magic — his onyx black, thick maned, friesian horse that he rides to herd in cattle and flocks of sheep, galloping across the horizon.
he does a lot for the town, you came to realize.
most of everyone’s milk and cheese are churned right from the cows he owns, he makes sure to package boxes upon boxes of fresh eggs made by his brood of hens and give them to the town’s grocery and convenience stores, but him and his family are most known for their poultry.
“don’t know what it is about it, but ‘zu has to have the best bacon i’ve tasted in my entire life,” uncle maevis seems to mumble every morning at the table as anna plates his second serving of breakfast.
he’s polite. when he rides through the busy plaza on magic, you can hear him give sweet, “g’mornin ma’am”s and “how ya’ doin, sir?”s, sometimes even tilts his little invisible, wide rimmed hat to a group of high school girls when he catches them staring wide eyed and slack jawed at him and pretends not to notice how they immediately burst out into squeals and giggles when he’s far enough in fear of him hearing them freak out about how ‘ handsome ’ and ‘ gentlemanly ’ he is.
you think he’s managed to have a full conversation with everyone in your two thousand person populated town but you. and you don’t know why.
but, in a way, it’s not like you’ve tried to talk to him neither.
because just as how easily polite, kind, and sweet izuku can be, you find that he can also be the slightest bit intimidating.
it’s scary.
you think the closest you’ve ever been close to him has to be every fifteenth of every month — when the town opens its monthly farmer’s market where local farmers and people of the neighborhood sell fruit, vegetables, poultry, and a bunch of crafty knick knacks to consumers.
you sell your own, homemade candles followed by flower seeds by the pound. your little booth is always a hit and it makes you happy to hear praise of how good your candles smell because you put a lot of hard work into it. it’s not an easy task and you’re only able to sell around ten to fifteen each time.
one of the main reasons why you drive yourself to even crank those out every month is because izuku’s booth is always in front of and two down from yours. you’re able to get the best view of him come when the crowds ebb and dwindle out. his booth sells, of course, produce and handmade soap bars made of honey — a town known product that’s been made by his family for years.
you watch him smile at the people who walk up to his booth and give a pretty, little handsome laugh and bestow soft kisses on the rosy cheeks of infants as if he were the next living messiah and you try, you desperately try not to, but it’s hard not to feel a tinge of jealousy spark in what feels the base of your tummy at it all.
not of him, no, but of everyone else he interacts with. why won’t he talk to you?
“hey, babe,” anna’s giving you a soft smile as you trudge up the three steps that opens up to the large porch of your home. she’s standing in the doorway behind the flimsy, screen door which she pushes open to aid you in carrying the few, heavy bags that contain your candle making materials and set them down on the glossed, mahogany floors in the foyer.
a warm scent of sweet pepper and vanilla balms the air and drifts itself inside of your nose the moment you step foot over the threshold.
you sniff, “you’re baking?”
anna nods and wipes her hands on the apron she wears while walking to the kitchen, “mhm. i heard ‘zu’s grammy came down with some nasty flu. i made her a nice, little basket full of some teas and remedies and baked her an apple pie,” she says as you follow her. “would’ve got you to do the pie, goodness knows how good your lil’ hands are in the kitchen, but i forgot the market opened today and you ran out the door before i can tell you.”
you can feel warmth bloom across the surface of your cheeks as you look away. maybe you were a little extra excited to see izuku today, “sorry.”
“it’s fine, no worries.”
you watch her pull down the door of her teal-colored, antique, double oven and then a plump, steaming hot apple pie is set on the windowsill overlooking the backyard seconds later to cool.
anna gives you a smile, “you think you can run this care basket down to her for me? i’d do it myself but—“
“—sure, sure,” you’re already backing up from inside the kitchen to hurry on upstairs. “just lemme go change and i’ll be right on down.”
you’re aware of what this could potentially intel and lead to — you finally meeting izuku for the first time. there’s a bud of meager enthusiasm sprouting within your chest that you find hard to keep down. you have always made it a goal to look your best, no matter time or day — pretty skirts, dresses, blouses, and mary janes a staple in your wardrobe collection. nonetheless, you can’t help but want to look your absolute best just in case of you both stumbling into each other.
so, pulling out your favorite emerald green, white lace trimmed, thin strapped dress made of silk that clenched tight along the bodice to bring out the shape of your figure didn’t seem like a blunder. you make sure to adorn a few thin, gold necklaces to piece it all together and pin back a few of your locs — long, they reached all the way past your butt — with pretty clips to bring out your face more.
“tell her that me and the mayor hopes she gets well soon, alright?” anna’s sending you off with a wicker basket full of tea bags, jars of marmalade, the pie, and a bouquet of baby’s breath in arm. “hurry along.”
you find sycamore square to be at its prettiest during dusk and dawn. towering mountains thread along the perimeter of the entire town, acting as its own welcome and come again sign and big, beautiful, camphor trees and shrubs of roses and hibiscus line the one lane roads. you realize that you walk with a little pep in your step as the fresh, late morning air wafts over your face, bringing with it the scent of dew and cedar.
izuku lives on the most captivating piece of land in town, you think. the closer you get towards the house, the more homes and shops start to disperse until there just weren’t anymore. the pavement evens out to a long, winding, dirt road, corralled by wooden, split rail fencing and miles of meadow stretches out towards your left and right.
the closer you get, the drier your mouth feels. you clutch the bouquet of baby’s breath closer to your chest at the sight of the black, oak, glass paneled front door and you’re prepared to knock on it until you realize that there’s a doorbell, so, instead, you settle for just pressing the pad of your finger against the glowing button, hearing a distant, classic ding-dong! echo throughout the house.
you wait.
and while you wait, your head swivels on your shoulder to look towards your left. there’s a a navy blue colored barn about a yard away whose door was left partially ajar. you wonder, just wonder, if izuku was maybe in there — milking the cows, feeding magic, raking up hay that probably covers the entire floor before deciding to ultimately lift the entire haystack with big, strong arms flexing—
the door opens.
an automatic smile covers your face out of reflex as you turn your head back forward.
“. . . hi.”
it’s him.
he finally stands before you, finally looking at you. your voice quickly gets caught in your throat as you realize that you have to lift your chin just to make eye contact with him.
your voice is smaller when you reiterate, “hi.”
his eyes — the tone of moss, pine, and juniper all brewed and fused into one — stare down into yours and he squints them just a bit before lifting a bended arm to lean against the threshold. “. . . can i help you?”
he wears a thick, red and black flannel thrown over a white, muscle tee. his voice is deep, however not too deep to where you couldn’t comprehend his words. he has an accent, of course, he has an accent. it’s a nice, rich, southern drawl. god, you think you’re going crazy.
“uhm,” your fingers tighten around the basket and flowers. “uh, we heard — my aunt, uncle, and i —that your grandma has the flu and we just wanted to, uhm . . . to . .”
izuku’s staring at you — deep green of his eyes a mirror image of chasmal nihility — awfully different than the usual handsome grin that seems to permanently reside on his lips anytime he waltzes into town. you feel your heart give a firm thud against the cage of your ribs before it ultimately seems to . . stop. he seems . . . annoyed by you.
your chin drops, eyes do too, and your voice is now softer, “we heard that your grandma has to flu so, here you go,” you hold out the items you brought and he takes them slowly, as if hesitant. “the mayor and his wife hopes she gets well soon.”
“. . . mhm,” is all he says, before leaning back against the doorframe.
you think your fingers are trembling so you clasp your hands together and hold them behind your back before deciding to spare one last look up at him.
freckles.
so, so many freckles.
dotted along his cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead. some are even peppered all over his neck and the broad span of his collar bones and shoulders, you have no doubt that they probably made home along his torso and back, too.
a frown starts to slowly pull down the corners of his lips, “is there anythin’ else?”
oh. “oh! no, no,” a bright smile of embarrassment spreads across your face as you shake your head and slowly take a step back. in doing so, a swift breeze wafts across your face, making you realize that you were standing so close to him before that you were enshrouded in a cloud of his scent. he smells like syrup and pine. “no, uhm, that’s it.”
thick eyebrows rise underneath messy, green curls. “i’ll tell gramma the mayor sends her good wishes.”
you don’t know what you had expected.
maybe a ‘ thank you, ’ or proper goodbye-send off . . certainly not him taking a step back, mirroring you, and swinging the door shut in your face with a firm blam! before you hear the swift shlick! of a lock twisting.
you’re shocked.
speechless, you scoff a slight sound of dumbfoundment prior to turning on your heels and returning back to where you came from.
okay, you think. wow.
on your way home, you replay the interaction again and again in your head. your mother’s always told you that you had too big of a heart, you let people get away with things that they know they can get away with only because it’s you. so, it’s no surprise why your mind drifts off into the conclusion that maybe . . maybe izuku didn’t mean to slam the door that hard. and if he did, maybe he was just having a bad day. that’s not a far off presumption, you muse. it makes sense.
you try not to dwell on it for too long.
he was just having a bad day. that’s all.
from then on, you consider yourself on a constant, steady descent into madness. it’s something you’ve always struggled with — being a people pleaser. and if you ever decide to go to therapy and discuss why you are the way that you are, you’re sure that it would be traced back to either one, your giving always has been disproportionate in each relationship you’ve had and always lacked a return of current reciprocity, or two, who you were and what you wanted has been replaced by the needs and happiness of others — at the cost of your own likes, dislikes, goals, desires, and dreams.
dramatic, you think. although true, but you’d prefer not to delve too deep into that.
“baking soda, flour, butter, sugar, eggs, white chocolate, macadamias, cinnamon, m&ms, and chocolate chips.”
you’re standing inside of the kitchen with a pink, frill-trimmed apron tied over your favorite, plaid skirt and blouse and a small, crumpled piece of notebook paper held between manicured fingers a week later. the ingredients you have written down on the parchment have all been marked with a check right beside them to indicate that you bought them and they’re all laid out in front of you on the counter.
“alright,” you smile, set the paper down, and grab a mixing bowl.
it’s a new day. that means izuku’s probably doing a little bit better.
you’re fully prepared to try again.
baking has always been more of a hobby of yours than job, but, still, it’s also a skill that you find useful. you’re able to bake three different types of cookies — snickerdoodle, m&m, and white chocolate macadamia nut — in the shape of pretty hearts within only an hour and you make sure to envelop them all on a porcelain with plastic wrap to keep warm.
“where are you going?”
maevis is seated on his dark brown, leather, recliner seat in the living room as you’re shoving your feet inside of your pink, high heeled, mary jane shoes.
“down to izuku’s.”
he flips a page of his newspaper, looks at you over the rim of gold framed, rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and gives a small ‘ hm. ’ “alright. be safe.”
you smile and wrap your hand tighter around the red and white checkered wool you have the plate enswathed in. “okay, i’ll be back!”
you’re out of the door on a mission.
making it down to their farmhouse seemed to have taken shorter time than the first. you’re already ringing the doorbell before you’re done rehearsing the lines you planned on saying to izuku as the same bout of nervousness that sparked the inside of your chest the first time returns during which the door opens.
“( ❤︎ )!”
you grin, “ms. aya, hi!”
izuku’s grandmother is a tiny woman, standing at only five foot with thin, waist length curls the same forest-green tone of her grandson’s. you greet her with a hug when she opens her arms and a nice scent of toffee and cedar glides within your nose the moment your chin touches her shoulder.
“how are you feeling?”
she gives you a soft smile and waves you further inside the house after shutting the door. “oh, i’m fine now. the tea your aunt sent me helped a lot, tell her i said thank you for me, dear.”
she leads you down the foyer. you find the interior of their home to be very classic — high ceilings completed with wooden beams, dark floors, and a curved staircase a few feet away from the entrance.
ms. aya ushers you to the kitchen, “c’mere,” she says excitedly. “sit, sit! feels like i haven’t seen you in so long. how’ve you been?”
you take a seat on the bench section of the dining room table just as a loud shrill of a tea kettle went off, signaling aya to put on an oven mit, grab it from the stove top, and set it on a coaster.
“i’ve been good,” is your reply. “i just stopped by to drop off these cookies i baked for you and your grandson — uh, izuku.”
“ ‘zu?” she looks over her shoulder at you while carefully pouring the steaming, hot water into a short mug. her eyes glance away and eyebrows slowly begin to gather, “speakin’ of ‘zu, where is—“
a door closes and you hear the gruff sound of a man clearing his throat a few feet down the hall. on compulsion, your spine straightens and all the confidence you had gathered while walking over here demolishes the second pretty, green eyes meet yours and a frown seems to instantly take place on his face.
“ ‘zu, where were you?” aya clicks her tongue and shuffles over to him.
you think they look a bit silly standing side by side — tiny, frail aya and big, strong, perspiring izuku. no flannel today, he’s just in another muscle tee tucked into a pair dark washed jeans, and heavy boots. your eyes flit this way and that, drinking in the sight of thick biceps, sharp collarbones, and a stout neck veneered in a thin layer of sweat.
his shoulders are rising a bit faster than normal. he’s out of breath. “choppin’ wood,” he tells aya through a soft mumble before he’s leaning to kiss her forehead and brush past you to the refrigerator without another glance given your way.
the air within the kitchen seems to spark a new tensity . . . and you’re not sure as to why. what was once lighthearted feels now unsettled. a dumbbell appears to have taken home within your chest and you look down at your fingers which thumb at the knot holding the plate of cookies together.
“well, aren’t you going to say hi?” aya takes a seat across from you. “. . i don’t think you two have met yet, have you?—“
“—we have.” izuku lets the fridge door slam closed as he opens up a cap to a bottle of water.
aya hums in consideration. “oh,” she coo’d. “well, she bought us cookies. c’mere, ‘zuku. try one. she bakes just as good as anna.”
your hands fall to your lap and you direct your vision to them as aya undoes the fabric and slips off the plastic wrap on the plate. izuku gives a soft sigh and lets slow, wide, heavy steps carry him over to the table where you sit.
you.
he cuts his eyes at you, watching you sit there, almost curled into a ball as if you didn’t want him to see you. good. the cookies on the plate look appetizing — heart shaped . . that’s cute — and his stomach growls at the sweet scent that spirals up from them into his nose. the m&ms catch his attention first. shelled chocolate candy of all colors of the rainbow, buried shallowly into the soft dough with a few chocolate chips in between.
you take a peek up just in time when his long, thick fingers pick one from the plate and your big, pretty eyes follow his hand all the way up to his lips to watch him shove the entire cookie inside of his mouth while staring at you blankly . . . “no oatmeal raisin?”
he’s talking to you.
you swallow and slowly shake your head, “n-no,” you utter, unable to look away from him. “just . . m&ms, snickerdoodle, and, uh, macadamia and white chocolate.”
he doesn’t say anything for a moment. just rubs his fingers together to dust the crumbs off of them and you flinch when some fall on your tiny skirt. “hm,” he murmurs, grabs his water bottle, then walks out of the kitchen without another word uttered.
your posture slumps and you let a heavy exhale. with him gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe.
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he hates you.
no, it’s not just a simple dislike ( as if you could deal with that, anyway ). he hates you and you don’t know why. it’s bothersome.
each time he catches your eye in the plaza while he’s talking to someone, you can literally see the edges of his smile go frayed prior to him looking by away. you don’t stop with the cookies, either, no, you drop off pie, cakes, and candles to the izuku residence, all in effort to somehow get a hint as to why or, even better, an explanation, but he’s quick to brush you off, exit the room, or is just simply not in at that moment.
aya, of course, is more than happy to spend more time getting to know you. and a part of you feels bad at knowing a teeny, tiny bit of you only stopped by every couple days was to see her grandson, but, honestly, can you help it?
you’re drawn to izuku like a stupid, little moth to a blaze.
when you catch him at the town’s convenience store while buying lemons and sugar for your uncle’s famous lemonade, you can’t help but step away from the counter, losing your place in line just to follow the mop of moss-green curls all the way to the back of the store where alcohol, gauzes, and all things first aid are stocked.
your steps are quiet and slow as you round a shelf to watch him squint his eyes, bend his neck, and read a description on a box of bandages.
you think your eyes catch the blotch of blood seeping through the white tee he wears before anything — thick, runny, and the color of merlot, dripping down to the light wash hemming off his levis. “i-izu’,” you’re gasping and shuffling over, hardly needing time to think about your own actions. the heels of your loafers clicking against the linoleum catches his attention. “god, are . . are you okay? you’re bleeding—“
“—i know that—“
“—do you need help? uhm,” you’re setting down the small basket holding the sugar and lemons to open up the satchel you wear, hoping that you have something to aid him with. “i should have—“
he bites out a low, “—i’m fine—“
“—actually, matter of fact, no. how ‘bout i just buy some gauzes and neosporin myself and i can patch you right on up—“
“—i’m fuckin’ fine!”
you jump and large, spooked eyes shoot up to meet his. izuku’s fists ball and he takes a step closer so that he’s looming over you — a threatening vice of strength and you’re left to hold your arms around yourself in fear of him hurting you. “that’s what’s fuckin’ wrong with you city folk,” he rasps quietly, eyes shifting between the both of yours as if he were making sure you were understanding each word that came out of his mouth. “always thinkin’ y’all know everything and what’s best. can tell you right now that i’d rather stand here ‘n bleed out than let ya’ help me.”
oh.
there it is, you muse. finally.
izuku watches the corners of your plump, full lips wobble and your bottom lip juts out into a darling pout as your eyes flicker down from his, to his neck, chest, then the floor. “o-okay,” you whimper, voice soft. “alright. fine.”
your head snaps back up and you seem to try to recuperate your previous poise but when it doesn’t work, your entire face crumbles and you make sure to shove past him with a hard nudge of your shoulder into his side to get him out of your way.
and you wouldn’t call it depression, no, but you are . . . really sad for the next couple days.
your bed is your safe haven and you stay wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and plushies, dozing in and out of sleep between hours of crying your eyes out. if he wants to hate you, then that’s fine. you can hate him, too. it isn’t that hard.
maybe this was just what you needed for you to finally build a spine and speak up for yourself.
“hey, babe.”
you’re a whiny, little mess, letting anna sit upon your bed and stroke her hand gently over your silk, sleeping cap while you lay your head on her lap. she makes sure to check up on you once every few hours — whether that be just opening the door and making sure you’re alive or, at least, trying to get you to eat something. she doesn’t pressure you into telling her what has you so upset, nor to get up out of bed, and you adore her for that.
“wanna eat?”
it’s morning, around ten am. you showered only a couple hours ago after not being able to sleep and you considered actually getting dressed and going to run a couple errands for the house today for the first time in a while.
but, then, the doorbell’s ringing, uncle maevis is yelling upstairs that it’s for you, making you climb out of your sanctum of warmth and serenity, catch one glimpse of freckled cheeks when you make it to the railing, and then turn around. “no,” is all you grumble, catching anna’s bewildered expression as you climb back into bed and shove your face underneath a pillow. “no.”
she softly asks you, “who was it?” and gets up to check herself. only, it’s clear, that izuku has followed you upstairs because you soon head her give a little gasp and the honeyed, contralto of his voice rumbling out a calm, “g’mornin’ ma’am,” from your bedroom threshold. “i was hopin’ that i could talk ta’ her f’a second . . . f’just a moment.”
you curl yourself deeper underneath your blanket, almost trying to make yourself appear invisible. maybe, if you curl tight enough you can disappear, or better yet, he won’t see you.
“angel?” anna’s touching your shoulder and you huff and pull away. “i’m gonna let ‘zuku talk to you for a second, okay? i’ll be right downstairs. call me if you need me.”
please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave.
her footsteps recede down the hallway and you sigh.
with your aunt gone, it leaves izuku standing in your doorway, and normally he’d ask a woman for permission to enter her bedroom but he knows you’re just as stubborn as a bloody-minded bull, so he walks in on his own and lets his eyes catch on the pretty decor of your room.
you have an an arch shaped window straight ahead with a giant pillow and plush animals covering the floor underneath it. there’s a bookcase of all sorts of material aligned with a wall right beside it so he thinks that that may be your little book nook — cute. a classic tortoise shell vanity is directly across from your canopy bed, and the wall behind it is curtained with fairy lights, polaroid pictures, and photo booth strip images of you, your friends from the city he supposes, and your parents.
what covers your vanity is all types of things. he lets his fingers drift across your hair brush, jars of edge control, make up, and candles.
“i reckon that y’can’t be mad at me forever.”
he watches the little lump you make in the bed shuffle, proving that you heard him, but you don’t say a word.
izuku slowly rounds the other side of your bed and tries to hold in a smile. “you ignorin’ me?”
silence.
he sighs. he thinks he deserves that. “hey,” he crouches down to become eye level with you once he plucks the blanket you have over your head with his finger and lifts it so that your face is revealed. you’re pouting, of course you are, and yet, still, you’re staring at him like you’re trying to deep fry him like catfish with your eyes. izuku nibbles on the inside of his cheek, “gramma told me you were interested in how i spend my day,” his voice is soft, gentle, as if he were talking to a kitten to keep from scaring it away. “ ‘n so i thought i’d show you.”
your pout deepens into a frown and you slowly lift up so that you’re propped up on your hands, “what makes you think that i’d want to spend the entire day with you after what you said to me, midoriya?”
izuku rubs the inner corners of his eyes with his fingers and tries to explain this in the calmest way possible, “just . . come on. put on your shoes and let’s go.”
you fold your arms, “no.”
god, you’re a piece of work. he licks his lips, sighs, and lets his legs work on stretching him back up to his full height. “( ❤︎ ), please, put on your shoes. i’d like it if you came and spent the day with me.”
you, petty you, fix him with the nastiest scowl your pretty face can scrounge up, and in the sweetest tone possible, tell him, “i’d rather lay here in this bed and suffocate or bore myself to death than spend my day with you.”
something wicked curls within the base of izuku’s gut, leaving him staring at you while working his jaw back and forth — something that has him confused on what it means. because he knows what you just said was similar to what he told you at the store, he knows you’re only trying to get him angry, and to leave you alone, and just for that, he’s going to do the exact opposite.
you flop back down, and this time, turn your back towards him, “get out of my room.”
he takes a seat at the foot of your bed. “well, then i reckon ‘m not leavin’ until you come with me.”
“i’ll get my uncle to drag you out himself.”
“mister maevis adores lil, ol’ me.”
you loathe knowing that he’s right. you drag yourself out of bed with a groan and huff, realizing there was no point in trying to change his mind, and shuffle to your closet to pull out the first article of clothing you see which is a little, white skirt, white, collared shirt, and pink, cropped sweater vest.
izuku clears his throat, standing up when you turn around and fix him with your eyebrows raised and a cocked head. “i’ll leave you to . . .” he looks down at the clothes on your hand then the pajamas you wear — pink, cotton shorts that stopped right underneath your ass and a bralette. “yeah.”
he stands in the hall while you get ready, leaned against wallpaper the shade of eggshells covered in daffodils and buries his fists in his jeans’ pockets, thinking over if this was a mistake or not. in essence, it didn’t take much for him to admit what happened at the store was wrong of him. if he wants to take it a step further, it was fucked up.
but upon his grandma telling him how interested you are in his life on the farm and what he does, he supposed that it’ll be just a tiny step into the right direction of apologizing.
“ ‘m ready.”
izuku doesn’t know why he despises you so much, especially when you look so pretty, every day, all the time. you purposely left him standing in the hall for almost forty five minutes before exiting the room looking as if you were an angel sent directly from up above to stand in front of him. but, izuku’d rather let magic gallop all thirteen hundred pounds of her against his rib cage than admit that, to himself or you.
“what are we doing first?”
izuku’s throwing one, thick, muscled leg over magic’s back to settle on the saddle before reaching a hand down to where you stand on the first step on the porch. your eyes flick from it to magic who only glances at you before giving a small snort and looking away.
“don’t be scared,” izuku reads the evident unease that glistens in your eyes and gives a short head rub to magic who pushes back into his hand with a sound of content. “she’s a sweet girl.”
“are you sure?”
one look at your fingers rubbing nervously against one another as you nibble on the corner of your bottom lip has izuku’s chest doing that weird thing again — makes him feel as if his heart was twisting and clenching and it makes him, strangely, want to pull you into his arms and never let go. any normal person would ignore the feeling, but izuku doesn’t, and to make it worse he responds to it which always has him biting his words out to you in irritation.
“i think i’d know my own horse. c’mon, we’re wastin’ time.”
you struggle a bit but you end up on the horse with your chest glued to izuku’s broad back.
“wrap your arms ‘round.”
you’re hesitant, you’re always so fucking timid around him, but you do it and izuku doesn’t waste another moment prior to giving magic a nudge into her side with the heel of his foot and she takes off down the road on a steady gallop.
you emit a small squeak. initially, its scary. you can’t help but bury your face into the soft cotton of the white button down izuku wears as the world whips past you in a blur. nevertheless, after a while, you take a peek and realize that if you focus on how the wind hits your face and how good izuku smells and if you press your little palms tighter against his chest, you can make out the outline of abdominal muscles ?, and it’s actually nice.
izuku controls magic with natural grace. his posture is straightened yet his lower body is lax so that he’s able to steer her left and right with only his heel if needed. you’re entranced by him.
“y’ever milk a cow?”
he’s leading you to the barn, the same one your eye keeps catching each time you happen to look out of the window while inside of the house with aya.
your thick wedged, vivienne westwood, ballerina shoes are sinking into soft soil as you try to keep up with his long strides. “nuh-uh,” you utter softly. “. . . it looks fun though.”
you hear izuku give a small snort. the sound makes you lift your eyes up to see a soft smile on his face though his eyes were still trained ahead of him. you want to ask him what’s so funny but he’s pushing open one of the tall, heavy doors of the barn and your brain’s immediately going empty at the sight of all of the animals that occupy almost the entire space within.
the pigs are the first you notice, around five of them, caged in a large wooden pin with dried mud caked all over their plump, pink bodies and they seem to snort a greeting towards you and izuku as you, him, and magic past by them, a flock of sheep, and two cows to an empty stall.
“that’s betsy,” he points to a brown spotted cow who lazily chews on a handful of silage. “and that’s tux.” a fluffy black one who stands in the other stall beside her.
you can’t help coo’ing and tickling your fingers atop of betsy’s head. “well, aren’t you precious?”
izuku watches you whisper and mutter to her while he fills magic’s drinking bail with fresh, drinking water. you’re like a child — skipping between betsy and tux and smiling all bright. and they melt their broad, fat faces into your soft palm, all content and happy like they didn’t try kicking and biting izuku the first time he met them all those years ago after being dropped off at the farm at only ten years old by his parents before they ran back off to another country. jealous? fuck no.
you giggle, “you’re so cute.”
maybe.
“c‘mere.” izuku makes you hold out your hands so that he can slap some petroleum jelly on your little palms and tells you to rub it in while he opens betsy’s stall, grab a pail, rinses it clean, strip her, then plop it underneath her udders. “alright, now, watch me.”
you have to bend lower so that you’re in a crouching position like him to watch him grab two of betsy’s teats at the base by two of his fingers on each hand, grip, and slide down.
you’re amazed at how fresh, clean milk is released from the teats into the bucket, and how izuku seems to do it almost absentmindedly, as if this was just a regular ol’ day for him which, in hindsight, most likely is. “now y’wanna hold and, sort of, grip as you slide your fingers down so that the milk can come out.”
his hands are beautiful to you — big and thick, scarred and bruised. effortless strength and brawn eclipsed beneath a sealant of wounds. your eyes flutter from them and up to his face, shyly. he chews on the inside of his cheek when he’s focused which makes his freckles dance along his jaw as his curls flop against his forehead upon his moil and effort.
“here.” izuku lets betsy’s teats go, lifts up and takes a step back. “your turn.”
you’re hesitant. you waddle, still crouched down, to replace his spot and grab the teats carefully.
izuku hears you giggle. “they’re . . they feel weird,” you tell him softly. he watches you start to gently squeeze and pull, and surprisingly, you don’t seem half bad at it.
“may bring you around here more of’en.”
you spend your day milking cows, shaving sheep, gathering eggs, and feeding pigs. it’s fun — living in izuku’s shoes for a day, and in a way, the respect you have for what he does for the town builds because you see that it’s a lot. a lot more than you initially thought, that is. however, still, as fun and riveting it is, being a farmer and all, it’s nonetheless exhausting.
you’re burned out by the fifth hour which happens to be around dusk and thankfully, izuku doesn’t try to push you past what’s clearly your limit; he just leads you back to the barn, mumbling something about him needing to check on magic anyways, and lets you plop down on a haybed while he refills her food and water pail.
wordlessly, you watch him. “. . . you don’t like me very much, do you?”
the barn is quiet aside from the sound of a wooden brush’s bristles being combed through magic’s thick mane and the soft cracking of hay being stepped upon on your end. izuku looks at you and finds your eyes focused on your shoes and lets your words marinate for a moment. the question was blurted out so he gives you the option to backtrack and take it back if needed, but when you don’t, he inhales air through his teeth and looks back at magic.
his answer is coarse, “no.”
at the same time he says, “don’t ask why,” you shoot out, “why?”
the barn goes silent again for a while and you find that now that the topic is here, lingering in the air, there’s no point in fighting to leave it alone. “did i . . did i do something to you?” your voice is soft and frail; makes izuku step around magic to get the other side of her mane just out of fear of him seeing your round, doe eyes looking up at him full of dejection. “ ‘cause if i did, i’m sorry. all this time, i didn’t think of me probably saying something to you in the wrong way or tone, or maybe even, cutting you off at the plaza—“
“—you didn’t do anythin’.”
you watch him toss the brush to the side, close magic’s stall, then sigh. his face goes through a range of emotions before he ultimately settles on looking straight at you with what looks like frenzy sheathed underneath a thin layer of control. “. . think it’s more about me likin’ you a little too much than me not liking you.”
your eyebrows gather in close as they dip in to reveal your confusion, “hm?”
izuku rolls his eyes and turns his back toward you. his neck bows and you’re confused on what he’s doing until you notice his shirt loosening around the shoulders. “gramma tells me that ‘m actin’ like a child . . a schoolboy because i’d rather hold my emotions for you under dislike and insults than tell you how i really feel.”
his shirt falls off of his arms and he throws it over a wooden beam while walking to an empty stall where a chipped, large piece of glass laid propped up, serving as a mirror. beside it is a shelf that holds a first aid kit and he grabs it before coming to a stop in front of the mirror, leaving you to look at him through the reflection.
your mind tugs between being shocked at how chiseled his torso is — broad, thick, strong, and decorated with scars and bruises, both new and old — and concerned . . because that cut you had wanted to nurse back at the convenience store seems to not have gotten the slightest bit better. no longer is he bleeding but the skin around it is purpled and clearly tender; you can see it in the way he flinches back from his own fingers when he reaches out to tear off the gauze.
“god, izuku.” you’re walking over and reaching for a wet wipe in the first aid kit. “you’ve been walking around like this all day?”
“past couple days,” he gruffly corrects, watching you bend your neck so that you’re able to carefully start wiping away the pus and ooze that seems to drip from the scar. he notices the tiny gold hooks and shells that decorate your locs and how you seem to actually be concerned for his well being . . and he pretends not to notice how his heart speeds up in the slightest as the feel of your little fingers brushing along his skin.
“you’re stupid,” you hiss, sparing a look up at him to see his eyes widened with surprise. “you’re so stupid. you haven’t let yourself heal, it’s been open this entire time.”
he doesn’t know what to say, but he stands still and lets you rub on some numbing cream and keeps from admiring how pretty you look through the reflection of the mirror behind you.
your voice is gentle again when you murmur, “but i’m not gonna ignore what you said . . . mm, schoolboy?”
izuku feels himself grow a little embarrassed. he looks away. “don’t know how else to explain it.”
you’ve got this far . . . “so you like me?”
he doesn’t say anything. not until medication is transferred onto a thick, new piece of gauze and the gauze is stuck and patted against izuku’s skin.
“truth is,” izuku waits until you look up at him. until your pretty eyes meet his and leaves his heart stuttering within his chest which he powers through to softly say, “always thought you were sweeter than stolen honey.”
it’s immediate — the adorable smile that starts to creep up on your lips, leaving you to shyly look away from him and drop your forehead between his pectoral muscles which only makes izuku chuckle. “. . i thought you hated me,” you mewl. “izu’ this isn’t fair. you’d see me coming a mile away while you were standing at the plaza and hurry and go the other way, you sprinkled cookie crumbles on me because i didn’t make oatmeal raisin and when i did, you took the whole plate from me without so much a glance or thank you, and you slammed a door in my face!”
when it’s all laid out like that, izuku realizes that he was a bit, fuck that, very rude to you. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, taking a chance to lay a kiss right against the crown of your head. god, he’s sorry. “i’m sorry, i just . . ” he chews the inside of his cheek, trying to explain his emotions as best he can. “i don’t know how to . . like someone.” he doesn’t think he’s ever had a crush before. he’s never craved to hold a person tight, to slip love notes within their back pockets as if he were a sheepish teen, to protect, love, and cherish — not until you stumbled into his life.
you lift your head and his heart melts at the pout that plays on your plump lips, “so, how do you know you like me?”
you’re confused when he grabs your wrist but it all makes sense upon him taking your hand, pressing it against the middle of his chest, and covering his own with it.
thudthudthudthudthud.
your pretty face is amazed, “it’s beating so fast,” you whisper, pressing your hand against his chest more flat as if to get a better feel.
his face softens when he laughs, you realize. he looks almost . . boyish — an innocent gleam in his eyes that you find adorable. “yeah, well . .” he clears his throat. “reckon it’s been beatin’ this hard since i picked you up earlier . . since i first saw you at the plaza three years ago.”
you’re giddy. you really don’t know how else to explain how you feel, especially when you have izuku staring down into your eyes, face soft and eyes dazed, as if he were looking at you for the very first time. you don’t say anything for a second, you want to bask in how this feels for as long as you can, notably upon him bringing your hand that covered his heart up higher so that he can press one, two, three, four, five gentle kisses against each pad of your fingers.
you stare at his lips the entire time — soft, pink, flushed a pretty coral. the air around you both seems to thicken; leaves your own lips parting and your little mouth softly gasping for your next breath upon him pulling you even closer, chest to chest. he’s so big, you realize it for what feels like the thousandth time. he makes you nervously shift from foot to foot as you try to vocalize what you want, leaving him staring at you with amusement shining within viridescent green.
“you can . .” your voice is pitched higher and his fingers tighten around the hold he has around your waist to make you gasp again. “you can kiss me.”
his responding chuckle is so deep that it has you feeling it rumbling throughout your entire body. you hate how a lick of heat starts at the base of your throat and ends with a gush of slick pooling in the seat of your panties. “shit, that’s cute,” he mumbles, still smiling. “how you think i need permission.”
‘ huh? ’ is only halfway out of your mouth prior to his lips touching yours and you, precious you, blossom like a rose within his arms. he kisses you hard, has your back bending rearward from the sheer intensity of it, but you’re all for it. your hands slip across the broad swathe of his shoulders which you dig your fingernails into as if to somehow bring him closer. izuku cups the underneath your jaw between his large hand, so that he’s able to keep your chin up and lips atop his which he nibbles upon tauntingly, tasting sweet cake batter from your lipgloss.
“izu’,” you whimper and go to pull away but as if drawn to one another like a moth to a flame, you only last a second without his lips against yours before you both are back where you started.
your body’s turning and your feet are moving, walking backwards until the underside of your ass touches what feels like the bed of hay and you’re pulling away for the second time to look up into izuku’s eyes. “can i,” his breathing is slightly labored. “. . . can i touch you?”
you want to be reluctant, you want to resist, but izuku makes it hard.
you mewl out a little, “uh-huh,” while nodding your head and he’s really not wasting another second. your tiny sweater vest is lifted off of your head and thrown somewhere irrelevant, and hesitantly, his fingers reach for the buttons of your shirt before he starts to undo them one by one with your hands holding his wrists the entire time.
your tiny skirt is next to go, not before he indulges himself and lets his hand fall down on one fat, plush globe with a sharp slap prior to him taking a nice handful and you squeak while pressing your chest back against his. “my god,” he whispers underneath his breath, looking over your shoulder to do it again. “lemme see it, princess.”
you whine and press your ass back into his big, rough hands, satiating his greed of seeing your ass jiggle and move when you grab it from the bottom yourself and squeeze. izuku moans, “fuck.”
it’s jarring — seeing his usual, stoic composure he seemed to have masqueraded just for you drop second by second, until he’s just . . . izuku. the izuku you’ve seen kiss his grandmother on the cheek on greeting each time he enters the house, the izuku that laughs all loud and cute in the plaza, the izuku that seems to have softened up more notably around you until he’s giggling and kissing the spot right atop your heart prior to him picking you up and then laying you back upon the soft, fleece covering of a hay bed.
“drive me crazy, y’know that?” he mumbles while undoing the ribbons that tie into a bow right above your ankles which allows your shoes to loosen and fall, leaving you cladded in just your short, frilly socks and pink, laced undergarments with little bows decorating the hem of your bra and panties. “know how hard it’s been f’me, honey?” when you don’t answer, too entranced by his hands sliding up the curve of your hips and waist, up to your ribs then all the way back down to your calves, izuku gives a tilt to your body and swats a nice, thick smack to your ass. you squeak. “ ‘m talkin’ to you.”
“h-hah . . no, izu’.” you’re so cute, pouting down at him like you don’t understand . . like you’re clueless to what you’re doing to him and his little, ol’ heart.
“izu’,” he repeats softly, standing from his knees. nobody calls him that but you and he fucking loves it. he remembers the first time he heard you call him izu’, all syrupy sweet down at that convenience store. he’s positive that you hadn’t even known you let the nickname slip out of your mouth, too concerned with him bleeding and all, but it took almost everything within him from not downright ravaging you directly on that linoleum the nanosecond he heard it pass from your pretty lips.
you follow him when he stands so that you’re seated upright with one hand behind you, holding you up — watching his fingers slip one end of his belt through the loops of his jeans and silver buckle so that he can loosen it, pop open the button, and slide down his zipper.
your little body’s inching closer and closer. you aren’t even looking at him, eyes focused right on his crotch after he pulls his jeans and briefs down his thick, muscled thighs, and his cock springs up centimeters away from your nose bridge. the way you gasp is adorable.
your mouth feels dry. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you never wondered about how his cock would look like, late at night, buried beneath the soft fleece and wool of your blankets with green curls, freckled cheeks, bulging biceps, and pretty lips running through your brain at an all time speed like a montage. it’s pretty — tip flushed the same orangey-pink of his lips, firm skin wrapped around all thick, eight inches of him and he curves just slightly upwards.
your fingers lift before they recoil. “can i . .” your voice is quiet; seems to be stuck in your throat.
thankfully, izuku understand you. he hums softly, “want it?”
your hips shift at the sound of his voice — deep, quiet, gentle. your panties are so wet that it’s uncomfortable. you nod, and lift your head when he tilts your chin up so that you can make eye contact with him, “mhm.”
“say it, then.” you almost cum just at the sight of him starting to stroke himself — lazy and steady. “let izu’ hear you say it.”
you’re so pouty. izuku doesn’t understand how fucking precious one girl can be. “i wan’ it,” you whimper.
“want what?”
a glistening bead of pre cum starts to build at his tip. “want your cock, izu’,” you sniffle and push your cheek deeper into his palm. “want it . . in my mouth, please?”
“what a darlin’ thing you are,” he whispers, eyes focused on your lips which part wide open when his thumb brushes across the bottom. “don’t even have to tell you t’ open up . . good girl.”
the first taste of him on your tongue has your eyes simultaneously rolling back and fluttering closed. it’s something that you can’t explain — a certain briny sweetness that makes your saliva build up within your mouth and literally has you drooling over him. you begin a rhythm at a slow, lazy pace . . burying all of him til he touches the hilt of your throat and pulling back slowly while softly humming in content.
“fuck,” izuku whimpers and tilts his head back, letting himself just feel it for a second . . feel how your little mouth wraps around him tight. you’re messy with it — don’t care if your slobber gets all thick, frothy, and fizzy, ‘cause you’d only pull back and smooth it all over his shaft to lubricate him more while smiling cutely.
izuku’s mouth falls open when your little fists melt into the mix and you circle them in opposite directions while bobbing your head. his toes curl in his boots. “oh, goodgirlgoodgirlgoodgirl,” he moans and lets his hips start to rock back and forth. that’s exactly what you are. you’re so fucking good. izuku hates himself for how he treated you all these years. you didn’t deserve it, no, you didn’t.
all of those times he’d see you at the farmer’s market, selling your pretty candles and flower seeds, he’s been wanting to walk over and spark up a conversation with you so bad, but, he never could. in a way, he thinks you intimidated him . . all pretty and sweet, it’s fucking insane how bad he’s wanted you and for so long.
you choke and your throat clenches around his crown. izuku pulls out, letting you gasp and hum. “so pretty,” he whispers, slapping his heavy dick on the cushion of your displayed tongue. he’s positive that his eyes have hearts doodled within them. “prettiest girl in town . . in the universe.”
you can’t help but giggle which makes him smile and bend to grab your legs and pull them which has you falling back onto your back. “you taste s’good, izu’,” you whisper.
“hm? really? lemme try then.” he’s holding your face firmly between his hand so that he can essentially dip his tongue inside the warmness of your mouth to stroke it over your own and the roof of it, needy for both his and your conjoined taste and — god, it doesn’t disappoint. him, sharp and tart, mixed with your sweetness, he thinks he’s in love. you’re enticing; enlivening something carnal and twisted within him. something that izuku himself doesn’t even have a clue of as to what it is.
all he knows is that he’s never wanted someone as bad as he does you. he doesn’t know why he’s battered down this feeling, this urge for so long, but he knows that now that he has you, he refuses to ever let you go.
you’re looking up at him like he’s hung the sun in the sky when you whisper, “izuku.” your eye contact only breaks because you seem to shy away. “it hurts.”
hurts . . . he doesn’t like that. you shouldn’t be hurting, not one bit. never again for as long as he’s alive and breathing. “what hurts, honey?” he’s lifting himself a little higher, thinking that maybe him lying all of his body weight on you is the problem; but when you whine and shake your head, as if that was the last thing you wanted him to do, he grows even more confused. “hmm?”
it’s cute — how your little hand scrambles for purchase on his wrist so that you can lead and place his fingers right over the seat of your panties upon your pussy and how your eyes roll back into your head, making izuku think that only your relief is able to be satisfied and glutted by him and only him — whether by a simple touch or not.
“oh,” he whispers, letting his fingers find the puffy pearl of your clit that protrudes out between your lips just the slightest bit and is hardened to the touch. “want me right here?”
“uh huh.” your legs are lifting on their own accord so that you can grab the backs of your thighs and hold yourself open for him. izuku appreciates that.
he bends his neck low so that he can leave sweet, gentle kisses along the soft, plush skin of your inner thighs. you smell so good to him — like a coconut cream pie, almost exactly like it, and it’s intoxicating. “spread ‘em wi — well, i’ll be damned,” pushes out of his chest as a soft whisper when you open your legs wider before he finished his sentence. “there you go . . . smart girl. so fuckin’ perfect.”
flawless. exquisite. you’re perfect.
upon him tearing your underwear off and pocketing them without missing your cute, scandalized gasp that is, izuku feasts his eyes on your pretty pussy and is positive that he falls in love with you right then and there. you’re shaved bare, save for a cute landing strip in the shape of a triangle right on your mound whose tip points to your slit.
your lips are chubby and brown but when he uses his thumbs to spread them apart, he opens a door to lovely, glittering, pink and a tiny, swollen clit who seems to have made home in its hood. you’re beautiful. you’re . . “ ‘bout pretty as a peach.”
you grow sheepish under his glazy-eyed stare. “s-stop it.”
izuku wants . . . he wants so much that it makes him press the pads of his fingers harder into your skin where he holds your thighs up himself in frustration. he wants to curb all of your doubts, your uncertainties, your worries — wants you to believe that there won’t be another day on earth where he’d be all cruel and horrid to you. he wants to know if you prefer to live out the rest of your days in a sweet cottage home or cozy, little bungalow. he wants to take his time to get to know your body, wants to treasure it the way it deserves to be. would you flinch back or keen if he blew a soft breath on your little clit to coax it from its cover?
he blows.
your body recoils but your back arches and you whine. both. how sweet.
when his mouth latches onto your entire pussy is when you gasp. his entire tongue scours the complete length of you, from the silver of skin separating your sweet cunt from your taint, all the way up to the throbbing bud of your clit. you lift your head, sparing the chance of your heart failing at the sight of his eyes staring straight ahead into yours through long, pretty eyelashes and messy curls. “ngh — izu, god,” you slump back against where you lay.
it’s a loud slurp echoing throughout the quiet barn when he pulls himself off, just to lay his thumb right above your clit and push the hood of it upwards with just a bit of pressure so that he can grant himself access to it. “there we go.”
your little toes curl in your socks when he suctions his lips to it and gives a few wet, experimental suckles. the muscles of your abdomen tenses and rolls and he feels you press the inside of your thighs closer to his ears, essentially telling him that you liked that.
“ooh shit,” you’re whimpering. “shit, izuku, fuck.”
how filthy. izuku comes to realize that he doesn’t like that very much — those foul words flowering from your pretty lips. but, still, he does it again, only this time he pulls his head back just an inch with your clit still in his mouth before letting it go with a wet pop so that it can settle back in place. you hiccup.
izuku wonders, “. . feel good?” he murmurs around your pussy, needing to know.
he looks up at you just in time for him to catch you lift your head. you’re beautiful. eyebrows just the slightest bit furrowed, making him think you were almost sad if it weren’t for how your mouth was dropped along a soft ‘o’ as you moaned his name. “uh-huh,” you nod and your soft hand pushes some of his curls back from his forehead to get a better look at how his tongue slowly began to snake down to slither inside of your tiny hole. “hng, shit!”
you think the responding swat on your thigh is innocent. his tongue buries inside of you deeper when you fall back again and open your trembling legs wider. “f-fuck, don’t stop—“
“—jesus fucking christ.”
izuku lets your legs fall from around his face and stands up. his mouth leaving the warmth of your pussy is so abrupt that you’re left blinking up at the ceiling in shock for a moment before you’re whimpering, “why did you—“
a bundle of lace trimmed cotton is pushed inside of your mouth — your underwear. “kiss your ma’ with that mouth, shortstuff?” izuku kicks off his shoes and his jeans. “i counted. your lil’ self cursed five times, i don’t like that. pretty girls don’t swear.”
a small mewl is made out through the gag in your mouth. izuku only joins you on the bed of hay when you reach out for him and makes sure to spread your legs wider, just to accommodate his build. he wants his words to sink inside of your fuzzy brain, wants to make sure that you understand what he’s saying . . and so he passes the time by trailing the tip of his nose carefully down your cheek until he reaches your neck where he softly kisses and hums against. “no swearin’, princess. y’hear me?”
you give a gentle “mhm,” and head nod, looking up at him as if he were the creator of all things good and he removes your panties without another second wasted before kissing your lips one more time.
his cockhead nudges the entrance of your pussy and it makes your next inhale go trembly. it hurts. blood hums and thrums within your veins, all heading south which only makes your pussy feels as if someone had been pounding at it with a hammer for an hour straight. izuku knows it hurts, he can see it in the way your hips shift and how your face screws. “can i—“
“—please, mhm, please,” you’re gasping. “do anythin’ izu, i don’t care.”
so pretty. izuku lifts up, spits into his palm and polishes it over his cock, watching your chest heave which only brings his attention to your tits, still encased within your bra and he silently thanks you for having a front clasp because he’s able to simply pluck the hook loose which allows your breasts to spill out into his welcoming hand.
“ooh, fuck,” he whispers, stroking the underside of his dick along your lips while rolling one, small nub between his fingers.
he inches inside you slowly, gradually, little by little until his heavy, plump balls are pressing flush against your ass and you’re mouth is left agape with a little pool of drool sitting on your tongue. izuku groans, forehead touching yours. “shit,” he’s panting, he realizes. left breathless by the sheer sight of you. “oh, fuck. how’s it feel, baby? ‘s good?”
your response is a simple sob of his name.
you’re so — you felt so full, so full, so full — it was too much. not enough? it was so much, too much. you can’t get enough. so good, so good, so good —
your eyes roll into the back of your skull when he pulls out just half way and carefully grinds back in. you’re positive of there being a bubble around you two, one full to the brim of avid, ravenous want and desire — three years of angry pining and back and forth leading up to this one moment which leaves izuku grabbing you by the backs of your knees to press them into the soft blanket on either side of your shoulders which he also uses as leverage to begin pistoning his hips up then down.
“oh my god,” you squeak and reach for his forearms, digging your nails deep into the skin when the crown of his dick bumps against the textured ridge of your cervix.
oh, he’s waited long enough — too long. “fuck, y’so pretty,” he mumbles, hearing the sticky squelch of his cock fucking your cream in then out of you. “so . . fuckin’ beautiful.”
his thrusts are slow, calculated, deep and his thumbs rub comforting, little circles against the underside of your thighs. he was proud of you for taking all of him so well. he’s inescapable when he leans back down to bury his face inside the crook of your neck which leaves your legs still opened and bent back by the weight of him.
your breaths are short and pushed out of you with each jab of his hips and you find the strength to wrap your arms around his back and bury one of your hands inside of his soft curls. “feels s-so good izu’,” you hiccup, feeling overwhelmed. your clit is stimulated by his trimmed pubes the closer he pushes his hips into yours.
izuku can’t get enough. his hands slip down beneath you so that he can grab you by the soft globes of your ass, grip them and start to make you rise your hips to meet him halfway when he picks up a quicker rhythm. “filthy . . lil’ . . pussy.”
tears of pleasure blur your vision. you can’t babble anything but ‘so good.’ “ ‘s so good,” you sniffle. “daddy, ‘s so good.”
the name slips from your lips without much thought, but something inside of izuku ignites. makes him lift his head to look at you, but it’s like you hadn’t realized you said it. how cute, how sweet. a lopsided smile lifts his lips, “ ‘s that right?”
he doesn’t give you a chance to take it back, no, that title’s all his now. he lets your legs go in lieu of throwing them over his shoulders and with the new position, it’s like his energy triples. you’re a mess. you’re a teary faced, empty brained, dumb little mess. “izu — god, fuck — izu’!”
two thunderously loud smacks rain down on your ass before you can even comprehend what you had just said. “what did i say?” izuku’s tone is gentle though as he holds your throat within his hand, not pressing, not squeezing, just anchoring you down to reality so that your blurred vision can focus on him. “what did daddy say, hm?”
your pussy spasms around his girth. “n-no,” you swallow and try to form another sentence. “no swearing.”
“good girl,” his pace stills. he sits there for a moment, lets you feel the weight of him inside of you while he basks in your velvety, pink walls tightening and constricting around him before he’s suddenly pulling out.
you gasp.
he coo’s at how your pussy gapes, only for a moment or two, before your pretty walls were closing again and shrinking behind the lips of your labia while greeting him with another gush of milky white slick.
“c’mere.” he tilts your body on its left side so that he can slip up behind you, lift your bent leg, and slap his heavy cock on your pussy. “put it in f’me, pretty.”
you sniffle as your little hand reaches for his dick and you align his tip to the entrance of your cunny so that izuku can slowly push back in. he thinks this position may be his favorite. your head falls back into his shoulder and you turn it into his neck as if to silence the loud, long moan crawling out from the base of your gut.
he lets you have that; knows you can only quiet yourself for so long, especially when he picks up an immediate constant rhythm that has your ass bouncing off of his hips with thick clapping sounds that echo throughout the entire stable. you’re drooling, a thin rivulet that trickles down your cheek and izuku lets his thumb stroke it away while he pants against your opened mouth. “please cum in me,” you’re crying and digging your fingernails into the forearm that’s wrapped around your chest. “please, izu’.” you’ve never wanted anything more in life, you’re sure.
izuku moans and slips his leg between the both of yours, needing to be intertwined within you. “oh, fuck, y’want that?” he groans. “y’sure?”
“uh huh.” when your hand slips between your legs to capture your clit beneath your fingers, he notices and pushes them away to replace them with his own. you’re sure you’ve reached seventh heaven when his other hand’s fingers slip past your lips so that you can suckle and busy your needy mouth with them, hardly needing another second before your joints were locking up and you were cumming with a silent moan.
you clench up tight — almost too tight. izuku’s jaw tightens and he bullies his cock past that tight barrier your pussy seems to take on as it spasms and drips a thin, pearly cream down his shaft and balls. “oh fuck.” he bends your leg further and further back until it’s almost touching your shoulder. he wants to see it — wants to see his heavy, swollen balls smack against that little clit, wants to see your pussy get battered into submission, wants to see your tummy bulge to accommodate all that he gives.
“mine,” he whispers underneath his breath as his balls draw closer to his body. “god, you’re mine. all fucking mine.”
he cums with a choked gurgle of your name. it’s surreal. iridescent stars seem to border his vision as he ruts his hips against your ass to fill you up to the brim. “shit,” he’s panting and softly whining into the top of your head, holding you as close as he can as his body breaks out into a full shudder. pleasure seems to run up and down his spine at an all time speed, he’s never felt anything like this before. “shit, baby.”
you moan softly at the warmth he brings. you can tell it’s a lot . . can feel it when your fingertips press against your lower tummy and you can hear a small slushing sound.
izuku doesn’t think he can move. his breathing’s labored and his chest feels full, but he can’t move, he’s sure of it. you both lay there for a moment, needing just a second to gather your bearings. you’re tired and you feel just a little gross with all the crying and drooling you were doing, but izuku still kisses you with everything he has within him.
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it’s funny, you think.
walking hand and hand with izuku into the same convenience where this all seemed to have started the next day to buy a plan b pill. it’s funnier seeing almost the entire town’s reaction to seeing you kiss one another for the first time and you think it’s absolutely comical, come eight months later when he’s proposing to you in a field of daisies at dusk only a few acres away from the barn.
“oh my god,” you’re giggling while staring down at him on bent knee, holding a tiny, red, velvet box that holds a gorgeous, angled diamond with a pretty pearl right beside it — it belonged to his great grandma, he’ll tell you about a year later while you’re both cozied up underneath a blanket in your own, little cottage home. “are you sure?”
he’s smiling, all pretty and soft, with his eyes focused on yours like you were the only person on the planet, the only person that mattered. “absolutely positive.”
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paradisedumpling · 2 months
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Rosy Cheeks and Warm Jackets
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trope: quarterback!minji x shycheerleader!reader; fluff; tiny bit of angst if you squint really hard
content warning: yeonjun is a bit of a perv here sorry (he checks reader out twice); brief mention of making out; reader is a bit insecure; some curse words; minji calls reader hot like once; some grammatical errors; not proof read
a/n: I wrote this a few months ago and my knowledge about american football sucks, but this trope was stuck with me for so long I had to do something about it so I hope it's not that obvious (I'm also very bad at making synopsis lol)
synopsis: you never planned to do anything about your life long crush on the quarterback of your school's football team, but fate seems to be against you and it puts you together again and again....
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You turned around as loud whistles resonated within the school halls. The football team walked down with pride in each of their steps. Have won a very important game just the day before, who wouldn't?
You yourself had a small proud smile on your face as people cheered on them. Being part of the cheer squad, you knew a part of the win was also yours and it made you happy to know everyone's spirits seemed to be high after yesterday's game.
And because you were a cheerleader, you knew the football team personally, even going as far as to say you had friends in there. Although with being a very shy person, you were only really close with a few of your teammates. But your nice personality and popularity by simply being in the cheer squad managed to have you know a lot of people, despite your shyness.
A familiar loud bickering averted your attention from the overall image of the football team to two specific girls upfront, walking between and ahead of the entire team with big smiles on their faces; Kim Minji and Pham Hanni, the star duo of the football team.
You knew the two best friends not only from the games, but also from being in the same year and class as them and because Hanni was your best friend Danielle's girlfriend. You all hangout in the same group most of the time, but your shyness forbade you from getting too close with the duo.
Your eyes finally settled on the quarterback of the team, Minji. Tall, beautiful, easy-going, gorgeous, funny, pretty, talented at everything she touches. Minji was the definition of perfection, if someone was ever to ask you to define it. And she wasn't a mean person or thought of herself as above others, as the perfect girl in every movie did. No. That's what made her even more perfect in your opinion. Minji was perfection, the perfect one. And you wouldn't lie if you said she makes your heart skip a few beats everytime you see her or hear her voice.
It had been like that for a while, too. You and Minji had shared classes for as long as you can remember. The two of you always being in the same friend groups and were always at each others birthday parties, but you never got closer than that. You only came to share phone numbers after you got into the cheer squad. Still, Minji seemed to have always captured your heart. Since the moment you two met in kindergarten when you lost your figurine in the playground and she was the only kid who helped you find it, to all the moments you hangout together with your friends today and she buys you your favorite slushie even though she never asked your favorite before.
"Take a picture so it lasts longer." A voice beside you startled you, making you jump and turn around with a blush on your cheeks.
Kang Haerin, your best friend and a cheerleader, stood by your side as she eyed you with an annoyed expression. Haerin was the only close friend you had that knew about your not so small crush on the quarterback. Not that you didn't trust your other friends, but Danielle would eventually spill it to her girlfriend accidentally and Hyein would try to set you two together in a very obvious way. So it was better like this.
"Shut up!" You turned around, closing your locker and grabbing her arm to start walking towards Danielle's locker, face not looking at the football star players direction anymore knowing they were also going in that direction. "And I don't want to hear a word about it."
"I wasn't even going to say anything." You stopped to look at her, raising your eyebrow. She had a grin in the corner of her lips, eyes darting around as she faked uninterest. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and tugging her arm again.
"Hey, girls!" Danielle greeted you two as you approached her. You and Haerin said your greetings before she was engulfed in a hug by a certain football player. "Baby!"
You watched in amusement as the couple greeted each other and shared affection as if they haven't seen each other in ages. A giggle left your lips once you heard Haerin gagging at your side. "I'm gonna look for Hyein." You nodded at her words, still watching the couple, this time with longness in your eyes.
"They're so gross, ew." You turned to your side to be faced with Minji, a face of disgust directed at your friends actions. "Don't you think so, Y/nnie?" Your eyes widened as she turned to you, catching you looking at her.
She smiled down at you, giggling at your surprised expression. You only nodded, cheeks blushing a light red as you stared at Minji's eyes.
"Good morning, Minji-ah." You greeted shyly, eyes darting down to look at the books in your arms, clutching them tightly to your chest. "You did great yesterday."
"If it wasn't for your cheering, I wouldn't have gotten the energy to win the game." Your face got impossibly redder and you didn't know if she was laughing at you or not, but you would never complain about hearing her laugh. "You're cute when–"
"There's our star player!" Minji was cut off by a loud voice and a smack on her shoulder. You both turned to look as a tall boy smiled at her with pride while you tried to calm your racing heart as you caught Minji's attempt of complimenting you. "You were seriously amazing yesterday! We need to have more practices together cause I have to learn that pass you did to get us the match point!" You watched as he excitedly engaged into a conversation with Minji, who simply nodded and smiled at him.
The boy was none other than Choi Yeonjun, the captain of the masculine football team and a starting eleven player. You.... were very acquainted with Yeonjun, if you could call it that. Yeonjun was the type of person that knew everyone in and out of school. He was very popular and social and it wasn't uncommon for him to hop between friends in the school halls. Still, he had his group of close friends. And one of these close friends was Huening Kai, a tennis player in your school who had a younger sister you were friends with, Huening Bahiyyih. One time last year she invited you to their beach house for a gathering with a few athletes in the school, and Yeonjun was there. You didn't interact much at the beginning, but after Bahiyyih dragged you to dance one night you seemed to have caught his eyes. For the remaining time at the beach house he openly flirted with you and tried to get you to go on a date with him, but you always turned him down. After all, you had eyes for another football player. But that didn't prove much efficient as to this day he still tries to date you.
"And when you grabbed the ball and started running–" Yeonjun's eyes flickered towards you for a slip second as he was passionately talking about yesterday's game with Minji and he finally seemed to notice there was someone else with her before he approached, you just couldn't decipher if he had also seen Hanni and Danielle making out behind the three of you or not. He faltered in his speech as he stopped to check you out and you suddenly became very conscious of the revealing cheer uniform you were wearing. "Oh, hey there Y/n. I didn't see you before, sorry." You tightened your grip on your books, smiling politely at him. You shifted uncomfortably as he bluntly checked you out. "Nice fit."
"Thanks." You mumbled with a tight smile, bringing a hand down to pull your skirt down. It wouldn't do anything, but it was an effort. You mentally cursed yourself for not coming with a pair of sweatpants like Haerin and Danielle did. You see, you normally don't wear your uniform around school like that, unless you have practice during the first periods of class. But as per tradition, you always take a group photo after big games. Yesterday you couldn't because of the after party so you were going to take it today during lunch time, and your coach insisted you all came with your uniforms so it wouldn't take too long. You were not expecting to deal with Yeonjun or any other of your admires before you could change to your normal clothes though.
"So." Minji cleared her throat, eyeing Yeonjun with disgust as she leaned closer to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. That seemed to snap Yeonjun's eyes from your exposed legs. "We can talk with our coaches about the joined practice later, right?" Yeonjun nodded as he eyed Minji's arm around you, blinking a few times before he looked up to look at her in the eye, a bright smile on his lips.
"Totally!" He put his hands inside his jacket's pockets, standing carelessly on his heels as if the action didn't affect him, but both you and Minji knew it did.
"Great!" She smiled at him and if you were looking you'd see the threat in her eyes. "We have to go fetch the other girls right now, if you don't mind. See you later!" Not giving him any time to reply, she grabbed Hanni by the back of her collar and started dragging her away, gently rubbing your shoulder and ushering Danielle. "Come on Dani, before Haerin let's Hyein buy that gross candy again."
"Damn bro, no need to choke me." Minji let go of Hanni when you were far away enough from Yeonjun and you watched the poor girl rub her neck as she stared at Minji judgely. "What was that for?" Hanni asked, wrapping her arm around Danielle's waist as the four of you walked towards the interior court where you knew Haerin and Hyein were.
But the oldest girl simply ignored her best friend. Instead, she turned to you, gently whispering in your ear. "Are you okay?"
You nodded, blushing at her breath on your ear. "Yeah, thanks." You sighed, looking down at your exposed legs and arms. Probably the only thing you hated about cheerleading was the summer uniforms. "I should've come with leggings or something at least, that's on me. Sorry." You looked up as you apologized, staring into her beautiful eyes that held nothing but concern. You didn't fail to notice the pout on her lips.
"It's his fault for being a creepy perv, not yours." She grumbled, arms pulling you closer as she practically hugged you to her chest. Suddenly, her eyes light up as she let go of you. You couldn't help the pang in your chest as she did so. "Here." She started taking her varsity jacket off and you eyed her with curiosity. "It's not much but I hope it helps." Your eyes widened once you realized what she was doing and you couldn't help the blush on your cheeks as she gently helped you put her varsity jacket on. Minji smiled proudly as she stared at you.
"Thanks, Min." You smiled shyly at her, averting your gaze and missing how her eyes softened at the nickname.
Minji didn't put her arm back around your shoulders as the four of you continued on your way to meet up with the rest of your friends, but she remained close and kept an eye for anyone else glaring at you.
Finally, you reached the interior court. "There they are!" Danielle pointed to your usual corner, where you could clearly see the two bickering about something. You let a small smile rest on your face as you watched them, shaking your head as you approached calmly.
"Unnies!" Hyein jumped as she saw you four approaching, running to grab you by your hand and drag you to where she previously was. "Can you help me with my arts homework? I forgot to do it yesterday and Haerin doesn't want to help me." She pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes.
"You know your teacher will eventually realize I'm the one doing your homeworks, right?" You sighed as you sat down beside Haerin, waiting for Hyein to hand you her homework.
Danielle and Hanni came to sit behind you three, engaging into a conversation with Minji, said girl remained standing and she put one of her feet on the bench on the other side of Haerin for support and crossed her arms on her chest. You momentarily lost yourself as you watched her laugh at whatever nonsense Hanni said, her head falling back as her eyes grew into crescent moons. God, she's beautiful.
"Here, unnie!" You turned to Hyein, trying not to blush as your eyes came down to your lap to scan her homework.
You two quietly worked on her homework as your other friends chatted. It wasn't an uncommon dynamic for all of you. Hyein was smart and dedicated, but she often used her status as youngest in the group to have any of you help her with her homeworks. In her words "Since you already did it before, it should be easy right?" And it normally was. None of you ever minded helping each other with anything. But the lingering perfume on Minji's jacket had your mind wandering more times than you'd like to and you took longer to complete Hyein's homework than you do on other days.
After you finally finished it and let the girl to gather her things in her backpack, you grabbed your cellphone to look at the time. You only had fifteen minutes before your classes begin, so you turned to the chatting girls as they seemed too engaged into their conversation to notice the time passing.
Your eyes darted between the two football players and your cheermates, feeling too shy to abruptly interrupt their conversation. So, you eyed Danielle. You tapped her leg, leaning closer as she turned to you confused. "We need to go, class is about to begin." Her mouth gained a oval shaped and she nodded, smiling at you and patting your head.
You watched with slightly flushed cheeks as she warned the other girls and you all got up to walk to class, Minji and Hanni still engaged into their conversation as you made your way out of the internal court.
Once you were approaching the point were you'd all split up to go to your perspective classrooms, Haerin pulled you back by the arm. You eyed her with confusion as she stared at you amused. "What?"
"What?" She mocked, looking down at your torso. You eyebrows furrowed deeply as you looked down, blushing in realization as you took notice of Minji's jacket, not that you ever forgot it was there. "What happened while I was gone?" She wiggled her eyebrows at you, quietly giggling at the blush spreading all over your face.
"Shut up, Rinnie!" You shushed her, looking away at anything but her face and the quarterback walking in front of you two. "Yeonjun was flirting with me again." You heard her groaning and you could imagine the immense eye roll she did. "Minji was simply trying to make me comfortable because I'm stupid and forgot pants."
"I knew I should've brought spares." She mumbled, cursing Yeonjun under her breath as you approached the hall where all of you parted ways.
You watched as Hanni and Danielle kissed and hugged goodbye, turning to give your own hug to Hyein. The younger girl waved to you all before skipping down towards her classroom and you waived to Danielle as she went on her own way too.
"I swear if that asshole–" Haerin still mumbled and you couldn't help but giggle at your friend's protectiveness. You pulled her into a hug, shushing her as she realized you had all stopped walking and Hyein and Danielle were already gone.
"I'm okay, Rinnie. Don't worry." You whispered in her ear, pulling back to give her a smile. That seemed to calm her down enough as she waved to Minji and Hanni and hurried towards her classroom.
"Why is everyone so grumpy today, man?" Hanni asked as she pulled you to stand between her and Minji, the three of you walking calmly to your own classroom. "First Minji and now Haerin. Is the water tasting like shit again?"
"Stop being gross!" Minji returned grumpily and you giggled as Hanni looked at you with an 'I told you so' face.
"Stop being a dick!" You laughed as the duo kept on bickering all the way to your class and in your tables, shaking your head.
"I'm not being a dick, your ass–"
---------------------------------------------------
"Alright girls, take five!" You heard Danielle groan in relief as Chaewon, the cheer captain, announced the break.
You and the rest of the cheerleaders have been practicing for a few hours now, the new routine being a bit more tiring than the ones you've been doing for the past few months. Theoretically, you all had a break until next week due to the win in the game the day prior. But your coach wasn't satisfied with your performance this season and she wanted to polish your routines as soon as possible, so here you all were practicing.
You walked towards the bench and grabbed your water bottle, quietly laughing as Danielle and Hyein laid down on the floor with wet cloaks on their foreheads. Haerin came up to the three of you and sat down on the bench, taking the bottle from your hands before you had a chance to take a sip of it. "Hey!"
"Not my fault you're busy staring at other people." She teased, laughing at your annoyed face before downing the water.
"Don't you do the same?" Hyein asked, looking at you two with a tired face. You smiled sympathetically at her, walking to crouch down besides her head and brush the hair sticking on her face due to the sweat away.
"That's why I can comment on it." Haerin replied, tossing you the water bottle. You grabbed it with a yelp, scolding her for not warning you beforehand. "At least I talk to Minji unnie instead of just staring." She mumbled, trying to hide her smirk as you looked at her with disbelief.
"What did you say?" Danielle asked, opening her eyes to look at the three of you with curiosity. "I didn't hear it."
"She said nothing." You glared at Haerin, silently daring her to repeat her words. She looked away, pretending to be interested in something else. "Anyways." You turned to Danielle, standing up and drinking your water. "What are you guys doing tonight? It's Friday."
"Oh! I'm going on a date with Hanni tonight!" Danielle's energy suddenly came back as she sat up quickly, the cloak falling from her forehead. But she didn't seem to mind as her smile only grew bigger, her eyes staring at the sky as she seemed to be getting lost in her own head. "She said there's this nice restaurant she's going to take me!" Her voice was dreamy and you smiled longingly as your friend kept talking. "And then later we're going to my house and watch some movies!"
"I have homework to do." Hyein groaned loudly and you all laughed as you watched her annoyed face. "Why do they give us so much homework?"
"Welcome to highschool." You, Danielle and Haerin groaned, rolling your eyes. "Good luck, Hyennie." Hyein whined at your guys words, pouting.
"I'm going to the cinema with my mom and my sister." Haerin said her plans for the night, getting up from the bench. "But we'll probably have dinner somewhere before too." She walked up to Danielle as you could see Chaewon and your coach slowly gathering the other cheerleaders. "We might run into each other if I'm lucky." She told Danielle with a sly grin as she helped the older girl stand up.
"Oh please, no." You laughed at Danielle as you helped Hyein get up. "The last time you guys crashed my date it didn't end up well." The australian's eyes widened in fear as she remembered the fateful date.
"It wasn't that bad." Hyein said as you three tried not to laugh at Danielle's expression of disbelief. "We just got banned from that restaurant for what? Three months? Nothing serious."
"You embarrassed me in front of my girlfriend!" Danielle exclaimed as you started to walk back to the middle of the court, hands going up as her body expressed her emotions. "And that was Hanni's favorite restaurant too! She was so sad." The girl pouted and Haerin and Hyein laughed at her as you laid a hand on her shoulder sympathetically.
"We apologized and she said it's all good now." You tired to comfort your friend, glaring at the two youngests that kept laughing. "She laughs everytime someone mentions it, even."
"You're right." Danielle smiled, nodding and turning to face you. "What about you, Y/n? You were the only one that didn't say what you're going to do tonight."
"Oh." You blinked at her, shrugging as you turned to your captain. "I'll probably just go home and do nothing important."
"You should go out with Minji." You choked on your own spit as the words left Danielle's mouth, turning to look at her with an evident blush rising on your face. "She's not doing anything as far as I know and neither is you, it's a perfect idea." You looked at Haerin behind her with wide eyes, silently asking her if she told the australian anything about your crush on Minji, but she seemed as surprised as you were.
"W-Why?" You cursed yourself mentally for stuttering, looking away so Danielle wouldn't see the embarrassment and shyness in your face.
"Because you're friends and you both have nothing to do on a Friday night?" You were glad she sounded genuinely confused at your question, but you couldn't help fear that she had figured out you liked Minji. You loved and trusted Danielle with your life, but if Hanni and Hyein ever found out about your crush the three of them would become the most obvious and chaotic cupids to date. And that thought horrified you. Minji deserved someone social and cool, and you didn't want to ruin your entire friend group's friendship over a stupid crush you had on the quarterback.
"We'll talk about this later." You mumbled, straightening you back as your coach yelled that the break was over.
---------------------------------------------------
You sighed as you tied your shoes, feeling relaxed after a cold shower in the locker rooms. Practice ended about an hour ago and you took your sweet time showering and dressing up. Haerin and Hyein had already left, the younger taking the opportunity to take a ride with the catlike girl. Danielle on the other hand, was still putting her shirt on by your side in front of her locker.
Talking about the australian girl. "Dani!" Kazuha, one of your cheermates, yelled to your friend, making the girl turn around while she pulled her shirt down her torso. You simply resorted to finishing putting your shoes on. "Hanni's here!" Your friend squealed in excitement and you giggled at her, shaking your head.
You tuned their conversation off, shifting your attention to a certain quarterback that seemed to always plague your mind. You clutched Minji's varsity jacket to your chest as you finished tying your shoes, a small smile resting on your lips as you reminisced about how beautiful she looked during class, laughing at whatever nonsense your classmates and Hanni said. You brought the jacket to partially hide your face when your memories brought you to a moment during bio class where the teacher assigned you all a group activity and as per tradition at this point, the football players and the cheerleaders stick together on the same group. Yunjin, a football player, was blocking your way towards your seat and she was so engaged into the activity with Kazuha that you felt too shy to ask her to move, so you waited patiently behind her. But Minji noticed you behind her and instead of asking Yunjin to move, she lifted you up so you could pass above the tables instead. To say you were a blushing mess after that was an understatement, and to make matters worse for you, or better, Minji kept an arm around your waist during the entire class, always smiling down at you and giggling at your rosy cheeks. Gosh, you loved that girl.
"I hope you're thinking about me." You jumped startled, hand gripping on the jacket as whoever just spoke to you giggled at your reaction. You looked up to see Minji looking down at you with her beautiful smile, eyebrows quirking up as you finally knowledged her. "Hi, Y/nnie."
"Hey, Min. What are you doing here?" You smiled at her, fighting back your blush as you got up and put the jacket in your hands on, finally noticing how quiet the lockers room had gotten. The others must've already left, but you didn't want to tear your eyes from the football player in front of you.
"I'm giving a ride to the girls for their date, so we came to pick Dani up." You nodded and your eyes locked for a few seconds, before you averted your gaze and went to grab your gym and school bags. "Are you going somewhere tonight too? I can give you a ride if you want."
"Oh, it's okay." You shaked your heard, looking away to see Danielle and Hanni in their own little world, giggling with each other. "I'll just go home and figure out what I'll have for dinner because no one's home for a while and there's nothing in the fridge..." You accidentally rambled, trailing off as you caught Minji smiling at you.
"Wanna go out?" You blinked at her question. Was she asking you on a date? I mean of course not, why would she? She's just asking her friend to go out because you have nothing to do and she has nothing to do so she must want to go out with her friend. Just that. Nothing else. Of course Minji wouldn't be asking you on a date why would she– "Y/n? You're cute when you get lost in your head like that." She giggled and you were certain your entire face was very red.
"What?! I am not!" You playfully slapped her shoulder, leaning into her as you both laughed, you more because of embarrassment than anything else.
"So." She held your waist with one hand, brushing a few strands of hair from your face with the other. "Wanna go out? We can go that convinience store close to my grandparents house." Your eyes lit up at that. That convenience store was one you'd go often when you were kids to buy ice cream and watch cartoons because her grandparents never let you watch them at their house.
"I would love to!" You smiled a her, big and genuine. Minji smiled down at you, caressing your cheek as she nodded. "How have they been, by the way? I haven't seen them in so long!"
"They ask about you a lot, actually." You looked at her in surprise and she only nodded, giggling. "You know they love you." You shaked your head at that, blushing slightly. "My parents miss you too. You should come over more often, I feel like we barely talk outside school or when we are not with the girls." You nodded, feeling a bit guilty. You wouldn't lie in saying that your crush had strained your friendship with the girl because of your shyness around her. But you were glad she wanted to see you more often.
Before you could engage deeper into your conversation, Hanni and Danielle came up to you two holding hands and with big smiles on their faces. "Dani's ready to go. Oh hey, Y/n." You waved at Hanni, smiling at your friends happiness. "Let's go, Minji. We have reservations, we can't be late."
"Ready to go?" Minji looked at you and you nodded. The quarterback smiled and laced her arms with yours, starting to walk away with the couple to the parking lot.
"Oh, you told her about my idea from earlier?" Danielle asked as she noticed you were following them to Minji's car.
"What idea?" Minji and Hanni looked between the two of you with curiosity and you couldn't help but look down embarrassed.
"Nothing–"
"Y/n had just said she would be doing nothing tonight so I suggested she should go out with Minji since she was also doing nothing tonight." Danielle cut you off before you could dismiss her and you were glad it was dark otherwise as Minji looked down at you with amusement she would've seen the blush spreading over your cheeks.
"Seems like us going out today was destiny." She said in a deep voice, pulling you closer and giggling at you before she let go of your arm to round the car and go towards the driver's seat. "Y/n's taking the front seat!" She glanced at Hanni who was about to open the passenger's seat door.
"Why?!" You and Danielle muffled your laughs at the girl's genuine offense. "You ask her out once and now she has passenger princess privileges?" Hanni huffed as she walked to the backseat with her girlfriend, closing the door behind her a bit harsher. "I thought we were mates, bro." She continued complaining as you all got inside Minji's car, buckling up before the older girl started the vehicle.
"Shut up and enjoy your free ride, Hanni." Minji shaked her head, giving you an reassuring smile as she saw you were feeling a bit panicked by Hanni's reaction. "She's just being dramatic, don't worry." She whispered to you before turning to face the street.
After turning on the radio, you all fell into a comfortable ambience as the couple in the backseats talked about their plans for the night, while you and Minji silently laughed, teasing them every once in a while for good laughs.
When Minji parked in front of the restaurant Hanni and Danielle would be having dinner at, she opened the window and peaked her head outside to look at the couple getting out of the car. "Remember to call your parents when you get home!" She said as she looked at Hanni, pointing an accusing finger at her. "I don't want your mom at my door at 3AM again because you forgot to text her you got at mine's safely!"
"Damn bro, that happened once!" Hanni mumbled angrily, having a bickery staring contest with Minji before Danielle broke it with a quiet laugh.
"We will, unnie. Don't worry." Danielle smiled, lacing her fingers with Hanni's. "Have a good night you two!" They waved at you two goodbye, and you turned to Minji as she mumbled.
"It was three times, actually." You giggled, and looked around faking uninterest as Minji looked at you puzzled. "Well... Shall we go to our date now?"
"Y-Yes!" You squealed, face becoming more red as Minji laughed at you. You were rigid in your seat as her hand lightly squeeze yours in your lap before shifting the gear from parked to begin driving away from the restaurant.
---------------------------------------------------
"I think I'll just have these." You handed Minji the items you wanted to buy from the convinience store: two tuna onigiris, a strawberry sandwich and a bottle of strawberry juice. The girl put the items in the basket she had looped on her arm, smiling at you sweetly. "Are we going to eat here or on your car?"
"Actually, I was thinking–" But before Minji could finish her phrase, she was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing in the pocket of her jacket you were still wearing.
You smiled at her apologetically before grabbing your phone, looking at the familiar name popping on the screen. "Oh, it's Haerin." You were a bit confused on why the girl was calling you so late at night without warning, but you brushed it off remembering she had gone to the cinema and was either excited about it or bored by it.
"You should pick it up, Haerin doesn't usually call people." You nodded, knowing very well all the habits of your best friend. You once again smiled apologetically at Minji, but she simply gave you a sweet smile. "I'll finish grabbing my things and meet you outside?"
"Thank you, you're amazing." Wanting to rush out and answer Haerin's call before it went to voicemail, you stood on your tiptoes and kissed Minji on her right cheek as another thanks before rushing out of the store and answering the call. "What's up, Rin?"
"The movie was good but now mom's complaining about how it wasn't 'realistic' and now I'm annoyed, so I decided to annoy you too. What are you doing?" You laughed at her annoyed tone, pulling the jacket tight around your torso as a chilly breezy ran past you.
"Out with Min." You giggled at Haerin's loud gasp, feeling the warm on your cheeks, but you told yourself it was because you were cold. "She invited me to go to a convinience store close to her grandparents house. And don't be weird about it! We used to come here as kids."
"What happened after I left?!" The annoyance she had seconds ago was long gone and that made you laugh at her, lightly pacing back and forth on your reels to warm your body a little. "So, have you two kissed yet?"
"Shut up!" The warm on your neck was definitely not from the cold and you had to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling at the thought of kissing the quarterback. "It's a totally platonic outting. Nothing else. And stop being weird."
"Dude, you're so dense it's frustrating sometimes." You could hear the roll of her eyes in her voice and that made your eyes roll too. "Just tell her you like her already!"
"Stop!" You squealed, looking back afraid Minji might be near, but you saw her attentively looking through the freezer for something to drink. She looked cute. "She doesn't feel the same anyways, so there's no need for that."
"You don't know it until you confess!" You rolled your eyes once again, sighing in annoyance. "Come on, Y/n! Don't be a coward for once!"
"Why are you so insistent on this? Can't I just like her from afar?" You could never understand why Haerin was so insisted on making you confess to Minji. Was it so hard for her to understand the football star would never return your feelings for her?
"No, you can't!" The girl groaned on the other side of the line and you heard some movement before she spoke again. "Use this date as an opportunity to finally bitchen up and tell her you like her! What's the worse that could happen?"
"Loose Minji's friendship?" You said that like it was the most obvious thing ever, frustration starting to build up in your chest. "Which I already am by the way, because I'm a stupid coward."
"Then stop being one!"
"Can you stop instigating me for once, Kang Haerin?!" Your voice raised a little, gripping your phone as your fear of rejection surfaced from the depths of your heart. "I'm not telling Minji I like her! End of story!" There was a loud groan from the other side of the line and you where about to tell her you wouldn't do what she wanted you to once again when a voice from behind you stopped you from doing so.
"You like me?"
Your eyes widened, body going rigid as Minji walked in front of you, looking you direct in the eyes. Suddenly, the firm grip you had on your cellphone loosened and your phone slowly fell from your hands. The loud sound it made as it hit the floor made you jump a little, but you didn't move to pick it up. You didn't blink as Minji eyes stared deeply into your own. You could feel your entire face going red and your hands start to shake from fear. This was it. The secret was out. She was going to reject you and you were going to loose one of your closest and best friends and she was going to–
"Why didn't you tell me before, silly?" She laughed. Minji laughed. Her eyes were crescent moons, just like they always were when she was happy. You'd know that much, you're always staring at her. And she had a faint blush on her cheeks. You were confused, and still locked in place. "Oh, Y/n." She stepped close to you, her voice dropping two octaves, making goosebumps go through your entire body. She brought both of her hands to your cheeks, gently caressing them. You couldn't get any redder than this. "You're cute when you're blushing."
"M-Minji I- What are you doing?" You said in a whisper, gulping down as her body was practically flush to yours. You could feel her warm breath hitting your face.
"Can I kiss you, Y/nnie?" Your eyes went wide at that and your vision became a bit blurry. Your breath got stuck in your throat and you nodded eagerly before your hazy mind could understand what you were doing.
Minji giggled at the confused and awestruck state you were in, before looking down at your lips and leaning in, the phone on the floor long forgotten by both of you.
Your mind went blank before beginning to register things again. Minji's lips were soft and a bit cold, but they felt so incredibly good. They tasted faintly like the milk chocolate you knew she loved. You took a few seconds to relax from the shock, closing your eyes and sighing into her lips before wrapping your hands around her neck. You felt Minji smile into your lips before she let one hand go of your cheek, pulling your closer to her by the waist and deepening the kiss.
You both pulled back when air was needed and you rested your head on her shoulder, giggling quietly as she gently caressed your back.
"I like you so much, Y/n." You pulled back just enough to look at her, your eyes shining with love as you bit your lips in slight shyness from her affectionate gaze.
"I think I've liked you since I met you, Minji." You took all of your courage to say that confidently, smiling brightly at her as she smiled back at you.
"Hmm, that's good." She mumbled, leaning in smiling before she captured your lips on hers once again. You were already getting addicted to the feeling of them.
This time, you were both interrupted by your phone ringing, Haerin's familiar ringtone making you remember your phone.
You pulled back with a quiet 'Sorry', crouching down to pick your phone up, that was luckily not broken, and quickly texted your best friend that your data was almost over and you'd talk to her later. You looked back at Minji, suddenly feeling shy under her sweet gaze that held a new meaning in your eyes and heart.
"So, wanna take this date to somewhere else? I don't wanna ask you to be my girlfriend in front of a convinience store." She eyed the glass sliding doors with an awkward smile, but your mind focused on something else. Girlfriend... Minji wanted to be your girlfriend. Holy shit Minji liked you! "Baby? Let's go?"
"Yes!" You squealed at the pet name, blushing brightly as she giggled and grabbed your hand, dragging you towards her parked car.
"By the way." She turned to look at you once you stopped in front of the passenger's seat, looking down at you with a sweet but mischievous smile. "You look very cute and hot wearing my football jacket."
"Kim Minji!" You squealed in disbelief as she rounded the car laughing loudly.
---------------------------------------------------
You closed your locker with a sigh, turning to face Danielle and Haerin as a few of your cheermates bid you goodbye. It was Monday again and the three of you had just changed your cheer clothes from practice before classes to your normal school ones.
"What is taking Hyein so long?" The australian mumbled, looping her arms around both yours and Haerin's arms to begin leading you towards the youngest's locker.
A few of the students waved at you three, but everyone seemed to be in their own little world. It was Monday, and most of the clubs were on a small break, so the mood around the school was a bit more chill than usual. And no sight of the two football star players like you used to see every morning.
You spotted the tall girl you were looking for speaking to a few of her classmates. When she spotted you the three of you, she waved and smiled brightly. But wishing to let Hyein speak patiently to her classmates, you pulled Danielle back to slow her pace and allow the three of you to walk slowly towards the younger girl.
Once you were close to reaching her, a loud voice seethed through the peaceful atmosphere of the hallway calling out your name. "Y/n! Wait!" You looked back confused, letting go of Danielle's arm to be greeted with the sight of Yeonjun running in your direction with a football in his hands.
"Oh, hey. Good morning, Yeonjun." You gave the boy a tight but polite smile, grateful that this time you were wearing clothes that covered your body. You could feel Haerin's intense gaze at him from behind you. "You seem excited."
"I heard well have a joined practice tomorrow!" You nodded, folding your arms in front of your torso as you hugged yourself, starting to feel uncomfortable under his intense gaze. You might not be wearing revealing clothes, but the way his eyes traveled down your body made you feel exposed just as much. "So, I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me after it." You blinked at him, not failing to hear the growl Haerin let out from behind you.
"Yeonjun..." Your voice was serious, and a bit annoyed if you were being honest, but you remained your politeness, feeling shy about making a fuss in front of so many people. "No. You know I don't see you like that."
"Just give me a chance!" He slapped his ball in frustration, looking pleadingly in your eyes. "Why not?!"
"Because she doesn't want to!" Haerin angrily answered for you. You turned to give her a stern look, turning back once again to look at Yeonjun, feeling small but annoyed under his gaze.
"I don't like you like that, Yeonjun." You sighed frustrated, fingers slightly fidgeting with the necklace you had under your shirt, the necklace Minji gave you while you didn't have official rings yet. "Besides, I'm not even sin–"
"Hey, babe." Familiar arms looped around your waist, a sweet kiss being planted on your cheeks as a big smile immediately formed on your lips. "Good morning."
You turned to look at your girlfriend Minji, standing on your tiptoes to give her a sweet kiss on her lips. "Good morning, baby. How are you doing?"
"Great, now that you're here." She smiled down at you and was about to say something else when a shocked cough interrupted her. Minji turned to look at Yeonjun, giving him a not so subtle annoyed expression. "Oh hey, Yeonjun. Were you and my girlfriend talking about something important? Sorry to interrupt you." You loved how she said girlfriend in a protective way, pulling you closer to her and tightening her hold on you.
"Oh, it was nothing." You interrupted Yeonjun before he could answer her, feeling a bit more confident in the safety of her arms. "Don't worry about it."
"Yeah, it was nothing." He mumbled, smiling awkwardly. "See you two around." He skipped away quite quickly, mumbling something under his breath.
You turned to look at Minji as she cursed him quietly, giggling as you gently caressed her nape to calm her down. You were about to lean in to kiss her again when a loud squeal interrupted you.
"I'm sorry?! I think I missed a chapter!? Girlfriend!?" The two of you turned to look at your friends, all plastering shocked faces, but Haerin was the only one smiling between them.
"Oh, did we forget to tell you guys?" Minji said nonchalantly, blinking at them before a big smile appeared on her face as she turned to look at you. "We are dating!"
"You fucking asshole! I knew your data was fine!" Haerin slapped your shoulder, quite strongly, as she recovered from her surprise. "I told you it'd go well!"
"Wait, Haerin knew about this?!" Hanni pointed accusingly at the catlike girl, still looking between you and Minji in shock.
"She knew I liked Minji..." You trailed off shyly as you looked between Danielle and Hyein, waiting their reaction to the new information.
The australian girl seemed to finally snap out of her shock, jumping excitedly on top of you and your girlfriend, squealing loudly. "You have to tell me everything! I can't believe it! I can't believe it! You two look so cute together!"
"What are your intentions with my unnie?" Hyein pointed at Minji, trying her best to look intimidating, but she looked toi happy to be taken seriously.
"Don't worry about her, kid. I'll take good care of Y/nnie for you." Minji laughed at Hyein, patting her head.
"What the fuck, bro!" Hanni also joined her girlfriend in the hug, pulling you and Minji's faces close to her. "Congrats, man! You finally got the girl!"
"Okay, wait." Danielle pulled back, looking at her cellphone. "We have thirty minutes before class, you have to tell us everything!"
You all laughed, beginning to walk towards the court to your usual spot, your girlfriend's arm securely wrapped around your shoulders, and you were still wearing her jacket.
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a/n: this is honestly kind of very bad but if you read it once and then think about the scenario in your head it's kinda cute so it's okay I guess
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pt XVI good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 3 EDINBURGH
HELLO IT'S ME IT'S THE OFFICIAL GOOD OMENS MASCOT WHY DO I STILL KEEP INTRODUCING MYSELF IDK. If you don't know who I am, thank God and Satan for their mercy and flee. Also, the day after I post this, I'll be watching the last three episodes on livestream for the first time so. You know. I'm hyped on the energy of this being my last day not enveloped in tears. Take the summary:
Before the episode starts, someone asks why Crowley said in the last episode that Aziraphale couldn't fall because look at him, all angelic when Crowley looked the same as starmaker. I reply that "Crowley thinks he deserved it, he sees Azi as something beautiful and untouched while he probably sees himself as idk marked in some way so god kicked him down."
I am told that I am learning too fast to weaponise the narrative to induce angst. So then I say oh, I go too fast for you. Tears ensue.
The episode begins! Everyone shrieks about Edinburgh, David Tennant, how it is their favourite episode, and SCOTTISH CROWLEY.
We open with lesbians being gay, and then Muriel enters as Inspector Constable! They are very sweet and very determined to do their job right, and they are adopted by Crowley and Aziraphale just like Jim.
Crowley sits on Aziraphale's chair's arm. The maggots all swoon.
Fine, I also swooned.
Aziraphale gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss-mansplain-manipulate-manwhores his way into getting Crowley to give him the Bentley keys (BOUNDARIES. BOUNDARIES.).
WHAT PLENTY OF USE DO BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF THE BOOKSHOP?
The really ineffable plan is whatever the fuck was happening in Aziraphale's brain when he somehow went from London to Edinburgh via Loch Ness (check the map) and then proceeded to disguise himself as a detective who pretends to be a journalist.
Crowley slays in sleeve garters and a cardigan keeping house in the bookshop meanwhile, does not sell books, instead cleans with Jimbriel and periodically yeets book stacks into corners when distracted.
Aziraphale reads his old diary entries about Crowley, a (6000+) 13 year old with a crush.
MINISODE MINISODE. They are in Edinburgh during the mid 1800s. Victorian outfits, check. Scottish Crowley, check. Capitalist Karen Aziraphale, che-wait what.
Huh. Well. There's a wee bit of body snatchin' going on, to sell to doctors for medical research because there aren't enough murderers, and to make enough money to survive.
Aziraphale channels his inner capitalist judgemental Karen and ruins that plan, come on Aziraphale you have religious trauma but you're better than this, and long story short, Wee Morag dies after Aziraphale realises his error, her friend Elspeth has to sell her corpse for pennies, and is about to commit suicide with laudanum. Azi, oh god. I'm glad you underwent character development at least.
NOW CROWLEY HERE SLAYS. I KNOW THIS IS AZIRAPHALE'S PERSPECTIVE AND IS BIASED. BUT WITH THIS POV, CROWLEY SLAYS.
He calmly educates Aziraphale about how his whole "the poor have more opportunities and you shouldn't give them money or they'll lose the virtue of poverty" is absolute bullshit, and he does this understanding Aziraphale's situation and not losing his temper.
The framing. The framing of the shot when they see Wee Morag and Elspeth sitting down on a step and explaining their situation. Aziraphale stands above, bustling with righteousness, and judges them. Crowley sits down. He sits down next to them, rather than taking the high ground. He meets them where they are and empathises. It is the fact that he is fallen and damned that makes him behave really divine and sorry I wrote a whole hymn on him have it I'll stop rambling just know I love him.
I think his amusement is a facade so hell won't think he's genuinely being good. I think he's morally grey and incredibly brave and kind.
When Elspeth is bouta kill herself with the laudanum, Crowley grabs it and drinks it himself, and grows tiny and then huge, absolutely high off his head. David Tennant takes the opportunity to travel Scotland from east to west in terms of accent variety.
He gives us the good message of NO DYIN'. NO MORE DYIN'. IT'S NOT ON. And then forces Aziraphale (who doesn't want to ruin her virtuous poverty) to give the girl all the guineas he has in his pocket, and tells her to go off and start a farm or something. BUT NOT JUST PRETENDY GOOD, BE PROPERLY GOOD.
He then gets pulled into hell. To be punished for this. Aziraphale is frightened and heartbroken for him, looking around desperately, and we find out that Crowley didn't meet him for a while after. And later he wanted holy water. To protect himself? He got punished by hell. For how long? The whole month in between the incident and the diary entry? There can't be anyone better at punishment and cruelty than hell.
Sorry I'm just screaming here.
Never mind fuck I started this summary really happy and bouncy and listening to a dance playlist. Dionysus by BTS and Italian pop is still playing and now I'm crying.
Is this the natural progression. Fuck I'm crying. Sorry guys something else happens with Aziraphale politely talking to a phone and Crowley smiling really beautifully while unsuccessfully trying to manipulate two lesbians into a relationship and something about a visit I don't care everyone's being morally dubious as usual and then lovely Scottish music outro I CAN'T FUCKING ELABORATE I'M SITTING HERE CRYING OVER CROWLEY.
right summary done, time to go sob, lmao i thought i wouldn't cry today over good omens HAHAHAHA still not traumatic eh HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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luvjii · 4 months
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jealous wonbin ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
-> tiny thing i wrote before this request i received , enjoyy
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wonbin didn’t like huge social gatherings, but when one of his old middle school friends invited him to a birthday party he kinda had no choice. of course he brought you along, he couldn’t bear being here alone. the music was loud, the lighting was dim, people were dancing on top of each other and drinking till they passed out. the plan was for you both to stay an hour or two at most and go back to his place, but he soon realised he was a fool for thinking that, after you basically ditched him for some old middle school friends you recognised across the room. “i’ll be right back,” you said almost ten minutes ago. sigh. he waits for you, leaning against a wall with a random beer in hand which he doesn’t intend on drinking. he could go with you and say hi to his old friends, but he really can’t deal with the awkwardness of recounting middle school memories.
he’d resort to quietly scrolling on his phone when out of the corner of his eye he spots you, hugging some guy who’s hand starts patting your back and rubbing your shoulders. he immediately straightens up from his slouched position and narrows his eyes to get a better view. the man’s smile was charming, he was looking you up & down ardently and making you laugh. what’s worse, he was distracting you. you were supposed to be back by his side, not giggling with some random guy. the absence of you next to him making his chest sting even more than before. he turns back to his phone right away, taps on imessage and starts typing.
wonbin: hey you wanna leave early? we can get food on the way home
his eyes dart upwards, checking to see if you received his desperate text. he doesn’t feel ashamed of being so clingy, if it wasn’t for you he wouldn’t have come here at all. you’re his, and seeing you mingle with another guy while he stands here alone makes him feel green with envy.
you make your way over to him after getting his text, “hey, i thought we were supposed to stay a little longer?”
he rolls his eyes and he’s immediately surprised by his own attitude. you’re right, the plan was to stay a little longer but at this point he could not care less. he can feel the spite on the back of his tongue, his bitter eyes glaring at you sternly.
he puts the full can of beer down, “who was that guy?” he inquires, zero amusement in his voice.
“what guy?” you ask, your head tilting inquisitively. he couldn’t tell if you were joking or not, isn’t it obvious? yet your face was plastered with genuine innocence and confusion, and he realised how intense he must look right now
he sighs, delicately taking your hand into his, your body intuitively drawing closer to him. there’s a pleading look on his face, as if he hopes you’re able to figure out the problem just through his big brown eyes. he rests his other hand on your waist, and almost telepathically you understand the issue, a playful smirk spreading across your face.
“oh wonbin.. that was just a guy from school i used to know,” you say with a hint of affection, taking your hand into his silky hair and rubbing behind his ear. “we used to sit next to each other in class, that’s all. he was just saying hi. it was a bit awkward.. i forgot who he even was..”
a shy, smug look sweeps across his face, his ears turning a light shade of pink from your familiar touch, “yeah?” he mutters, feeling dumbstruck. just having you by his side again, lovingly stroking his hair made him feel a tiny bit sane again, albeit flustered.
nodding your head, you continue to tease him. “mhm. is that why you wanted to leave? you got a little jealous?” your all the more meddling hands guiding his face closer to yours. “don’t like seeing me with other guys?” the heat rises in the already suffocating room, wonbins breath hitching in his throat and his brain and body malfunctioning. his lips tell him to close the space between you both, but his mind tells him there’s a time and a place for that. nevertheless he bites his lip with anticipation, and just as he’s about to lean in and shut you up, you clear your voice and ask, “so what are you thinking, for food?” your sweet touch leaving his raven hair, dusting off your skirt and fixing your handbag.
you turn to the exit, holding your hand out and looking back at wonbin, his cheeks still colored red by your unexpected provocation. a moment passes and he lets out a long exhale, wondering at what point he surrendered himself to you like this.
“well, come on. i’m hungry,” you grab his hand and you both make your way towards the door. he follows you, wordless and dazed, silently beaming at the feeling of your hand in his. he admits his defeat. finally, you back in his hold, your skin on his skin. he’s quiet, but on the inside he’s radiating emotion. how lucky he got, he thinks, to have such a dear, observant love, someone who knows him back to front, inside out. you, who knows how to play him till he’s tongue-tied and blushed. and you walk down the street hand in hand, not speaking a word but feeling the undeniable infatuation as you giggle back and forth, like you’re a pair of middle schoolers again.
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lovelettersfromluna · 10 months
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☆ ★ Still Alive ☆ ★ {Ellie Williams x Reader}
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Summary: Ellie Williams has been your best friend since the second grade, the two of you stuck by the hip since you were practically babies. What happens when she starts acting….strange all of a sudden?
an: Okay yes, I folded and I wrote an Ellie fic inspired by Jennifers body, it’s just 1000000x gayer, and a tiny bit different. Ellie is Jennifer and reader is Needy. That’s all I have to say. Just trust me, okay?
Warnings: SMUT! Buckle up bc this one is gonna be filthy, college!ellie and reader, angst, mean!ellie, angst bc your best friend is a basically a demon now, Ellie will kill anyone that crosses her sweet best friend, shy!reader, scissoring again bc it’s hot sue me idc, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), I’m sorry but Ellie has fangs what do you want me to do? Let me know if I missed anything! (This isn’t proof read btw I’m sorry)
Part 2 can be read here!
Your best friend had been acting…strange
Ellie Williams had been your best friend since the first day of second grade. She spotted you immediately, her green eyes sparkling the second she caught eye of you swimming in the sea of second graders during recess. She made her way towards you, she told you how cool she thought your shoes were. To think someone as cool as she was thought that you were cool had almost felt like a joke in the beginning.
But it wasn’t a joke, and she had been by your side every day since. Even now that you were both in college together, she was with you.
Except, she wasn’t. Not right now at least. Ellie had been making herself scarce for about a week now, which was not at all like her. Even if she wasn’t feeling well, she’d text you whining until you were at her apartment with everything you needed to nurse her back to health, calling her your big baby.
But all you got was radio silence. It was almost as if she didn’t even exist at certain points. Every attempt you made at trying to reach out at her were in vain, as you were left with nothing on the other side. You even tried showing up at her apartment, a stack of notes that she had missed pressed between your arm and your chest, and brownies from her favorites bakery stuffed in your bag, but still,
Nothing.
What was even worse, was that everyone was coming to you regarding her absence.
Ellie had always been the more popular one of the two of you. Her presence just…attracted others, she was like a magnet. And how could she not be? She was so fucking charming sometimes it felt like she wasn’t real. She had the prettiest smile, and green eyes that sparkled from the moment you first set eyes on them. Everyone who saw her was enamored by her, and you’d never blame them for it.
And it was no secret that you were best friends. You were always close by her, trailing behind like a lost puppy. Ellie always assured you that she liked it that way, that you felt like home to her.
But in instances like this, it was a problem.
You had nothing to say to the people who asked you for her, simply giving them a half shrug and an apologetic smile when you told them you were just as confused about her disappearance as they were. The only thing that truly kept you from filing a missing persons report was that her landlord said she had been in touch with her.
But what really pissed you off, were the girls.
Ellie had always been popular with them, even back in grade school, she had girls swooning over her every time she outran the boys during track, or when she flashed them a particularly bright smile. It was something you thought you’d gotten used to, pushing down the jealousy that came with the countless pretty girls that would interrupt your conversations with your best friend.
But after the fifth girl came to you, twisting her pretty hair between her fingers as she asked you for Ellie, you realized it still fucking bothered you.
You carried on though, getting through all of the attention you had been getting by the end of the week. You were a good student, quiet, smart, a professors dream in all honesty. You used it to your advantage, distracting yourself with your studies so that you wouldn’t worry too much about your best friend.
You had finally gotten back to your apartment on Friday after your last class, a low sigh blowing past your lips as you pressed your back up against your front door once it was closed. You tossed your keys to the side, slowly peeling your jacket off of your tired body as you went about getting comfortable in your home.
You had showered and gotten yourself something to eat, and now you were on your bed, cuddled up with Angel, your precious little calico kitty. These days it was like she was the only one that was around to take up the attention you had to give.
Your hand was stroking between her ear gently, her soft purrs making you feel drowsy. Your eyes were heavy, and you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and forget about the sinking feeling that came with the sudden disappearing of your dear friend.
A loud banging against your door made you flinch.
You frowned as you sat up, staring in the direction of where the loud, persistent noise was coming from. Angel stared in the same direction as well, her meowing growing louder, as if she sensed something behind the door that you didn’t, something dangerous.
You shushed her gently, giving her a gentle pet as if to reassure her as much as you could before you grabbed your phone. It was already past midnight, and you sure as hell didn’t invite anyone over, let lone expect anyone to just show up.
You gave it a minute longer, hoping that whoever was there simply had the wrong apartment number and would soon realize, leaving before they could bother you any further.
But the knocking didn’t stop.
It was loud, and persistent, and eager to get in, and for a moment you felt as though you really were in danger.
You inhaled deeply, your eyebrows furrowed as you got off of your bed and walked out into your living room, staring at your front door with every move you made. You obviously weren’t an idiot, so you grabbed the nearest weapon you could use to stun whoever it was that so desperately needed to get into your home, which happened to be a spare hanger that was in the closet near your front door.
You gripped it in your hand tightly, inhaling deeply before you unlocked the door and opened it harshly, ready to knock out whoever was behind it.
You weren’t totally sure what you expected, but it surely wasn’t your best friend standing on the other side.
Your best friend who had been missing for the past week, who couldn’t even respond to your text messages with a simple confirmation that she was in fact okay, your best friend who you had been worried sick over for days on end, your best friend that looked like your best friend but also didn’t at the same time…
Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked down at you, green eyes piercing through your own as she took you in. You were about to go to sleep, and she could tell by your little pajama shorts and your fuzzy socks that you reserved for Friday nights only, something about treating yourself after a long week rung through her ears as she recalled the night she asked you why you wore them.
The breath that you had been holding in your lungs blew past your lips, sighing in relief as you finally let your posture fall. You weren’t sure if you were relieved that it was her, or if you were relieved at the fact that she wasn’t a fucking axe murderer waiting to chop you up into little pieces.
“Jesus…Ellie? What…what the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned breathlessly as you brushed your hair off of your face, far too winded to even ask her where she’d been yet.
Ellie smirked softly as she watched you, a low chuckle leaving her chest as her eyes trailed down to the hanger in your hand. “Is that a hanger?”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her comment, almost taken aback at the fact that she wasn’t responding to your question before your eyes followed hers, and you looked down at the hanger in your hand. You rolled your eyes, a soft huff leaving your lips before you hung it back up and promptly stepped aside for her to come into your home.
“You were knocking on my door like the fucking feds…or..I dunno, Michale Myers or something? God Ellie what the hell is wrong with you? It’s almost 1 in the morning”. She simply smiled down at you while you scolded her, her large palm pressing against your front door as she closed it. God she had missed you, her chest was practically blooming with happiness as she watched you walk over to your fridge without another word, grabbing her a bottle of water before you returned with it and held it out for her, that adorable frown she loved so much still playing on your lips.
She licked her lips, her large hand wrapping around the bottle before she gently set it down on the coffee table next to you both. She hummed, bending her knees a bit before she wrapped her long arms around your waist, pulling you flush to her body and almost off of the ground. Her face pressed against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as her eyes fluttered shut, groaning softly.
“Missed you so much Bambi…”
Anymore scolding that you had for her was caught in your throat the second you felt those arms wrap around your body and pull you into her, the familiar nickname she had given you when you were far younger making your insides warm up. Your cheeks burned red, simply letting her take you into her before you sighed softly, your own eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your arms around her neck, realizing then just how much you had missed her too.
“Where’d you go El….you wouldn’t even text me back..” You huffed out, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of her neck. She smiled against yours, knowing all too well that you were pouting from the mere sound of your little huffs and whines.
She licked her lips, feeling how much her absence has affected you. She held you for a bit longer, the two of you swaying a bit in the middle of your home as she let herself enjoy you for a bit longer before she spoke.
“I was…um…I got sick…bad cold” She nodded to herself, trying to reassure you.
But you weren’t having it.
You frowned as you pulled away from her, pushing her back by her shoulders as you stared up at her, not buying her excuse for one second. “Then why didn’t you call me? You knew I’d come and take care of you…”
Ellie hated when you looked at her like that. You weren’t mad or disappointed, it was like you were pleading with her. Begging her to just let you help her. And the thing about it, Ellie loved when you babied her, she almost looked forward to getting sick because she knew you’d drop everything and tend to her every need, making sure she got better as soon as humanely possible.
But this…god this was so different than any of those times before.
She licked her lips as she stared down at you, one of her hands coming up to cup your cheek gently, her thumb rubbing over the soft skin before she shook her head. “Didn’t want you getting sick Bambi…this one was just…really bad” She groaned out, making it sound like it really was that bad.
You sighed, because it wasn’t your job to take care of her. You weren’t obligated to do anything for Ellie, and her you. She didn’t owe you anything, and she sure as hell didn’t have to tell you every time she was sick. She wasn’t yours, and you weren’t hers, and this entire situation made that very clear to you.
You’d be lying if you said it was nice to ignore.
You sighed, giving into her as you gave her a gentle nod. The hand on your cheek made your heart burst, feeling like you could cry at any moment, it made the feelings worse.
Ellie had always been touchy with you, your friendship being one that crossed those lines time and time again. You would never shy away from her, and her hands were almost always on you from the moment you could remember.
But why did this all feel…different? Why did her gaze feel so intense, why did it feel like she wasn’t looking at you, but right through you. Like you were something to own, like you were hers.
You figured it was just a lack of her presence for so long, maybe she always looked at you like that and you just never noticed, maybe she looked at all her friends that way.
Regardless of it all, Ellie was back, and you were so fucking happy for that.
Ellie beamed the second she saw your features soften, and she knew that you had given into her. She tugged her bottom lip beneath her teeth as she smiled down at you, her thumbs rubbing circles into your waist as she kept you pressed against her body, a low hum leaving her lips. “You wanna go to a party with me tonight?”
Your eyes widened a bit at her question before you sighed, pulling her hands from around your waist and leaving her in your living room. It was typical Ellie behavior to try and drag you to one of the many frat parties that she attended. It just…wasn’t your thing. You were a home body through and through, you preferred staying inside in the comforts of your own home, cuddling with your cat while you allowed your brain to rot while watching cheesy reality tv shows.
That and…watching Ellie flirt with girls at those parties was just…you couldn’t stand to watch it.
You refused to be the friend that held her back from doing what (or who) she wanted to do, so you didn’t. You always passed up on her offers to those parties, figuring that if you didn’t see it, it wasn’t happening.
It didn’t stop her from attempting though, and the current fire in her eyes was determined to get you to finally come with her.
You sighed as you made your way into your room, Ellie following close behind and watching your every move. You crawled onto your bed, your cotton shorts giving Ellie the perfect view of your ass, causing her to cock her head to the side and shamelessly check you out.
You laid back on your bed, pulling Angel, who had weirdly been on high alert from the moment Ellie had stepped inside of your home, into your lap. You frowned as you looked down at your kitten, her hair raised and eyes slanted as she eyed Ellie’s every move. You pet her gently, trying to calm her down before you pulled her down to cuddle into your chest, grabbing your remote control and turning on your tv.
“M’not going anywhere tonight El…I’ve already showered and brushed my teeth and…I’m just not in the mood to party and get drunk right now” you huffed out, grabbing the plush throw blanket on your bed and draping it over your body, cuddling further into yourself and your cat as your attention was settled on the tv.
Ellie tilted her head back as she whined, mimicking a child throwing a tantrum as she sat at the edge of your bed, her hand slipping underneath your blanket and grabbing a handful of your plush thighs, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Come on..you never go anywhere dude, I can’t stand the people that go there…would be so much better if you came…” Her words trailed off as she pushed your blanket back a bit, needing to see the way your thighs spilled out of her grip as she massaged your skin.
You whined softly, the cool air of your room hitting your skin, but quickly being replaced by the feeling of Ellie’s large hands pawing at your legs. You sighed, turning towards her a bit and giving her better access to you before you shook your head, knowing she wouldn’t let this go without somewhat of a compromise.
“If I tell you I’ll go to the next one, will you drop it?” You practically pleaded, knowing the girl all too well for these games. She’d massage you and caress you until you were putty in her hands, getting you to do whatever it was that she wanted.
She flashed that beautiful smile your way as she finally broke her attention away from your legs, nodding eagerly. Now this, this was progress. Never had Ellie gotten you to promise her something like this, and it made her insides burn with excitement.
You giggled softly as you watched her beam like a kid, making your heart warm up at the sight. You rolled your eyes playfully before you pressed your hand against her chest, pushing her away playfully. “Fuck off…go, have fun tonight…text me when you’re home?” You questioned as you looked up at her, feeling that same sense of anxiety that you felt when you hadn’t heard from her for the entire week.
You had just gotten her back, she needed to know how important that was to you.
Her large hand grasped your wrist gently as it was pressed against her chest, staring down at you as you practically begged her to touch base with you when she got home. She hummed, staring down at you as her fingers caressed your skin gently, your hand emitting warmth against her skin before she nodded.
“Always baby…I’ll see you later, okay?” She assured you with a firm nod, causing you to smile up at her. You gave her a soft noise of agreement before she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her head and letting herself out of your apartment.
You sighed as you watched her leave, your heart sinking once her presence was no longer there with you. Once you heard the click of your front door, you fell back into your soft bed, unable to shake the new, uneasy feeling that came with seeing her.
You thought the following week with Ellie being back would be easier.
It wasn’t.
After the bizarre incident that happened with her banging on your door at one in the morning, you didn’t see her for the rest of the weekend. She texted you nonstop, more so than usual, but her physical presence was once again an enigma. Although she wasn’t completely gone as she was before, the lack of actually seeing her was doing your head in, and you had no idea how to actually bring it up to her.
You expected to brush it all off on Monday morning. You’d wake up for class and Ellie would be waiting for you in the courtyard as usual, like she always did because she was just Ellie, your Ellie, no different than before.
At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
When you got to your college campus, it seemed as though Ellie’s disappearing act was still in full swing, because she wasn’t there waiting for you. There was someone waiting for you though.
There was one bit of attention that you received during the week of Ellie’s absence that wasn’t directly associated with Ellie, not entirely at least.
Amber was in a few of your classes, and she seemed nice enough. You’d never spoken to her long enough to fully know her, but in the small exchanges that you had with her, you knew she was nice.
She had made her way to you in the middle of the week, noticing that you had been eating lunch alone in the courtyard, or perched up against a tree listening to music or reading. It came to a surprise to you when she wasn’t asking about Ellie, but instead about you. She was sweet, and funny, and as selfish as it may have sounded, she was someone to talk to while Ellie had practically abandoned you.
You couldn’t help but blush softly once she looked in your direction, giving you an excited wave and a small smile as she patted the spot next to her on the bench she was sat at.
“Hey stranger, was waiting for you” She smiled softly, causing you to giggle softly as you sat down next to her. Amber was nice to be around, she made it easy for you. You preferred to listen, and she always had so much to say to you, or about you, complimenting your outfit for the day, or brushing strands of hair from your face.
She was in the middle of asking you how your weekend went, and you opened your mouth to tell her how it was, quiet and uneventful as usual.
But a dark, looming presence cut your words short.
Like a dark, grey cloud, Ellie stood over you both, and she looked terrible. The radiant light that she had emitted on Friday was gone, instead replaced by dull eyes, rimmed with dark bags. Her lips were dry, and the color had been drained from her face, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that the awful cold she was telling you about was back to harass her.
Your eyes widened as you stared up at her, worry filling your chest at how fucking tired she looked. “Ellie? I…are you okay? You look awful. Do you have a-“ she cut off your words, her eyes boring holes through Amber’s skull as she towered over the both of you.
“Who the fuck are you?” Her words were harsh, and pointed and it sounded like Amber had done something horribly wrong, when all she had done was have a conversation with you.
“Ellie what the hell! Amber I’m so sorry I-“ your attention was turned towards Amber as you rushed out an apology, feeling like things could go south at any moment. Ellie looked fucking mad, and something inside of you told you that you wouldn’t play with her right now.
“Amber? Amber? Who the fuck is Amber?” Her tone was pointed, but this time it was directed towards you. Anyone walking by would assume that you had been caught cheating on your girlfriend, and her accusing tone didn’t do anything to make it sound any different. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you finally stood up, pressing your hand against the fuming girls chest to try and put some sort of distance between the two of them, as Amber was clearly just as confused as you were.
“I’ll…talk to you guys later…” Amber mumbled awkwardly, giving you a small apologetic smile before she rushed off towards her first class of the day.
You were too busy to give her anything but a quick wave and a smile before your attention was turned back towards the angry girl that stood before you.
You were filled with anger, and worry, because not only did your best friend speak to someone in a tone that they did not deserve, but she looked half fucking dead.
Her eyes trailed Amber like she was ready to kill, watching her every move until she was completely out of view. She felt your soft hand against her cheek, trying to pull her back down to you. When she finally did look down at you, the look in your eyes made her heart crack.
You were practically begging her to tell you what was wrong, because so many weird things had been happening. And you had enough.
Before she could even understand, you were dragging her across campus. The sun was so fucking bright, and she was so fucking hungry, and seeing you with Amber made her fucking blood boil.
And don’t even get her started on how good you smelled.
She couldn’t focus on anything other than the empty feeling in her stomach, the feeling nagging at her to be noticed, to be acknowledged, the only thing able to distract her from it was the anger she felt when she saw you settled next to a girl that wasn’t her, bare legs on display for them, why the hell were you even wearing a skirt? Did you want Amber to notice? Did you wear it specifically for her? Did you have a crush on her-
Her racing thoughts were cut off when she felt that you had both stopped. She blinked a few times, her blurry eyes taking in her surroundings. You had brought her to the library, tucked away in the very ends of it where no one would find you. You were staring up at her, arms crossed over your chest as you waited for something, anything, from her.
She gave you a lazy shrug. “What?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, mimicking her lazy shrug. “Seriously? That’s all you have to fucking say to me? Ellie, why did you yell at Amber that way? And why the fuck do you look half dead?? Are you sick again? Why don’t you tell me what’s going on!” Your voice grew louder and louder with each words you spoke, feeling your anger rise.
Ellie groaned softly as she shushed you, knowing she didn’t need anymore attention than she had already been getting. Plus, the pounding in her head wasn’t helping either.
Ellie sighed softly, watching as you waited for her response. She knew she couldn’t keep lying to you, she was acting out and she knew that you could read her like the back of your hand.
“I just…have a headache, okay? I didn’t sleep well last night” It wasn’t entirely a lie, she really did have a headache, and she didn’t sleep a goddamn wink the night before.
You huffed out, clearly still not satisfied with the answers that she was giving you. You felt like calling them answers was too forgiving when they were barely that.
“Okay cool. That settles your appearance, but what about your behavior. What makes you think you can talk to people that way Ellie? What makes you think you can talk to me that way?” You questioned, once again begging for some sort of clarity from the girl, one that she was proving time and time again she could not provide.
She felt ashamed, small under your pleading gaze. She knew she owe it to you, and she knew you didn’t deserve what she was dishing out to you.
But the mere thought of you talking to Amber made her seethe, and she felt the anger return in the blink of an eye. She was irritated with everything, everyone, even you, because what makes you think you can just do that in front of her? Have you learned nothing? Do you know nothing?
She’s angry, and she can’t stop the words that are leaving her mouth.
“Because you’re too fucking stupid to see when someone is using you”
You’re not sure what you expect her to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.
Her words make your mouth close instantly, because you truly don’t trust yourself enough to know that anything else that leaves yours will be sensible.
The look in your eyes makes Ellie’s heart tug, and she knows she’s done it, she’s forced you to put up those walls that she had taken down herself throughout her entire friendship with you. But for some reason, she can’t find it in herself to stop.
“Don’t give me that fuckin look, it’s true and you know it. Everyone knows it. They all came to you when I wasn’t here because they see the way you follow me like a fucking child, she was using you to get to me just like they were” lies, it was all lies and Ellie fucking knew that. Amber liked you, and everyone except for you could see that. Amber had never had any sort of dealings with Ellie and she never wanted to, she wanted an opening to talk to you, and she saw it when you weren’t by Ellie’s side.
And that pissed Ellie off.
She struck a nerve, she knew that. Your eyes began welling up with tears, filling up like big swimming pools. You bit your lip to hold it back, you refused to cry in front of her, especially when she was the one that did this to you.
You inhaled deeply before you gave her a small nod. “Okay Ellie….” Was all you could truly say. She’d said all she had to, and you heard her loud and clear. You were a burden, and she had just confirmed that.
Ellie wanted to reach for you, and pull you into her body and tell you that it was all okay. But the damaged had been done, she had said what did and there was no going back from it.
Not to mention, she didn’t fully trust herself to hold you in her arms right now.
The small sniffles she heard when she rushed past her and out of the library was the nail in the coffin, and she let out a low sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose, the pounding in her head getting harder and harder to ignore.
She needed to fucking eat.
You were avoiding Ellie like the plague.
You’d managed to get by throughout the week without seeing her. Ellie had messaged you the same night after the incident at the library, but you were too exhausted to even care. Her words still echoed in your head.
Because you’re too fucking stupid to see when someone is using you
You winced, the tone of her words making you feel so fucking worthless. You huffed as you stared up at your ceiling, holding back the tears that would spill passed your cheeks and wet your pillow anyways.
You couldn’t wait to come back home after everything happened, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into your bed and ignore everything that had happened.
And you did, you went too and from class without saying a single word to anyone. Anytime you’d caught Ellie staring at you from across the room you’d ignore it, and keep your head down until you were in the clear.
What you did do however, was text Amber.
Amber had done a great job at distracting you from the horrible things your best friend said to you. You were devastated, and you realized while muting Ellie’s messages that Amber had given you her number within the week that Ellie wasn’t there. So you took advantage of it.
You were too miserable to talk to anyone in person, but the warm glow of your phone reflecting onto your face was enough to fill the small void that had become present within the week.
Texting Amber is actually what got you in the position you were in now.
It was Friday night, and you were stood in front of your mirror, smoothing down the clothes that gripped your body. You wore a pleated denim skirt that was far too short, watching yourself in the mirror alone was enough to make you feel shy. The black baby tee that you wore hugged you perfectly, leaving a sliver of skin revealed right below your shirt and above your skirt. You turned around, eyeing yourself and thinking about how ridiculous you looked, and how rifidi you’d this all was.
And the fact that Ellie would be there.
This was the party you had promised her you’d go with her to, and you were going with Amber, the girl she had yelled at in front of you for simply speaking to you.
You shook the thoughts away, fluffing out your hair and reapplying your favorite lip liner before you grabbed your black boots and zipped them onto your feet, grabbing your phone and leaving your apartment without another thought.
Before you knew it, you were stood outside of the godforsaken frat house you had been dreading all week.
You sent Amber a quick message before you locked your phone and made your way inside.
It was dark, purple and blue lights reflecting off the bodies that were smooshed together. The smell of sweat, weed and alcohol assaulted your nose, and the loud music was so strong that it made you feel like your insides were shaking, and you remembered why you hated the party scene so much.
You sighed as you squeezed passed them all, your hands gripping the ends of your skirt to keep yourself from flashing anyone.
You made your way into the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief to see that it wasn’t as packed as the main area of the large house. You needed breather, because it was all hitting you slowly. You didn’t want to be there, and you almost always avoided places like this because this wasn’t your scene.
It was Ellie’s, and the idea that she was there at the party made you feel even worse.
You needed to distract yourself, and eventually find Amber. You turned around, grabbing a red solo cup and mixing equal parts of flat soda and whatever cheap liquor was available to you before you took a big gulp down, wincing at the sharp taste evading your taste buds.
You turned around, your butt pressed up against the counter as you babysat your drink, eyes drifting towards different people that came in and out of the kitchen. You were almost done, and you had almost completely convinced yourself to get up and leave, until you saw a familiar face beaming your way.
Amber.
You sighed in relief as she made her way towards you, her arms slipping around your waist and tugging you closer to her body. The alcohol already had you feeling warm, and the feeling of someone else pressed up against you made you feel even warmer. You giggled softly as she pulled back, hissing softly as she bit her lip.
“Fuck you look good…where have you been hiding all this, hm?” Her words made you blush, and you nudged the girl playfully before she grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers as she nodded her head ti the dance floor. “Shall we?”
You gave her a nod, cheeks burning red as you threw back the remaining alcohol in your cup before you let her lead you out.
Suddenly, the party didn’t feel all that suffocating, and neither did your thoughts. It felt easy, like breathing. Ambers hands were pressed up against your waist, pulling your ass flush against her friend as she guided you to grind against her to the heavy beat of the music, and you fucking liked it.
You liked being here without Ellie, being your own person, with your own thoughts and your own wants and needs. Gone were the days where you were her shadow, following behind the girl you desperately wanted more with just for her to say the things she said to you the last time you spoke. You felt like you were floating on air, your hands reaching behind you and tugging at ambers hair, pulling her closer to your neck that she was attacking with kisses.
You almost keeled over and died when you caught sight of the piercing eyes that were tracking you from across the room.
There she was, in all of her glory, Ellie fucking Williams. Your best friend was sat on a couch across from the dance floor, a pretty girl settled on her lap, nipping and tugging at her neck very similarly to the way Amber was doing to yours, and she looked like she wanted to fucking kill someone.
Her radiance had returned, no longer looking frail and ill, but instead beaming like a goddess who had come down the golden steps from the sky and gracing the presence of you mere mortals, if only for a second allowing you to bask in her beauty.
You felt your heart get stuck in your throat with the way she looked at you, her large hand gripping her solo cup so tightly you were sure she’d destroy it if she held it that way any longer. Her eyes made you whimper, and Amber must have assumed it was her making you whine because she smirked against your neck.
“Hmm…you wanna move this party upstairs baby?” Her question caught you off guard, and it took a small squeeze on your hip to break away from Ellie’s intense gaze. You gave her a small hum in response before she chuckled against you. “I said, do you wanna move this-“
Her words were cut off by a very familiar presence next to you.
You weren’t sure if you were drunk out of your mind, or if Ellie really had just crossed the entire house in half of a second, but all of a sudden she was no longer on the couch, and instead she was towering over both you and Amber.
Amber is rolling her eyes once she pries her lips away from your soft skin, staring up at Ellie as she keeps your body pressed against hers. “Are you fucking kidding me man? How many times are you gonna cock block, Williams?”
Ellie is visibly seething, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares down at you both. Her eyes drift towards the way Amber is gripping your hips, and the way your hands slowly drop down from her hair, and she wants to fucking kill someone.
“Leave before I fucking make you Amber”. Her voice is deep, and raspy, most likely from smoking all night. The mere sight of her is making you wet, because she’s glowing like she usually does and she looks like your Ellie again but just….more.
Amber sighs as she gently pushes your body away from hers, her own arms crossing over her chest as she steps closer towards Ellie, silently challenging her as she smirked. When she opens her mouth to say something, Ellie is already placing her palm on her forehead and harshly pushing her back.
Amber stumbles backwards a bit, catching her footing and staring up at Ellie, ready to push back with a punch of her own.
But the look in Ellie’s eyes is fucking scary, you both see it.
Her eyes are dark and low and she almost looks like a fucking animal under the dark light of the house, chest heaving as she watches Amber, ready for everything that she’s going to give her.
But she doesn’t, because she’s scurrying away like a little mouse, and Ellie is smirking in victory as she watches her.
You watch in disbelief as Amber scurries off, and you figure that’ll be the last time you ever hear from her.
You step in front of Ellie, staring up at her with wide eyes, because you truly cannot believe what she’s doing to you.
“Im fucking over this Ellie. You ignore me for an entire week, leave me worried sick about you, then you show up at my house in a weird manic state telling me I need to come to a party with you, and then the following Monday you’re making me fucking cry in a library because of how pathetic you said I am, and now I’m not even allowed to dance with a girl at a party?” Your words were fast, angry babbles leaving your lips as you stared up at her.
And her heart is tugging at the sight of you, because this is the first time she’s been able to talk to you in a week and you’re close to tears, again, and she fucking hates herself for it.
But she also can’t ignore how fucking good you look. Your skirt is hugging your plush hips so well, and it’s making her want to reach out and grab so fucking badly, because she expected this night to go so differently. She wanted to have a good night with you, hold you, tell you how much she wanted you.
And tell you how she had been through literal hell and back within the last two weeks.
Ellie had become a monster because of stupid fucking dare, and she didn’t know how to explain it to you. She didn’t know how to explain to you that the insatiable hunger she had for women could only be satisfied by you.
But you were still staring up at her, waiting for answers that she couldn’t give because she had dug herself into a hole too fucking deep to give you any answers.
So she did the only thing that had been on her mind for the last two weeks, and most likely ever since she had met you. She grabbed you.
She grabbed your wrist and pulled you up the stairs of the frat house to one of the spare rooms that was there, thanking whatever invisible force that was listening that not only was the room clean, but it was empty.
She ignored your whines and huffs as you tried tugging your way out of her grasp, because she knew it was now or never.
When she closed and locked the door behind you, you didn’t even have any time to scold her any further, because her strong hands were gripping your waist and her lips were on yours.
She swallowed the gasp that you let out, your eyes fluttering shut the second you tasted her, she tasted of weed, whiskey, and mint, and you quickly found yourself wanting more of it, because it was authentically her.
You whined against her, tugging at the hair at the nape of her neck as she kissed you desperately. Her tongue was pushing into your mouth and you suddenly felt dizzy, the sudden shift of your entire friendship was too much to handle. Going from not hearing from your best friend at all to having her tongue down your throat was almost as intoxicating as the alcohol that you as consumed earlier.
“Ellie…Els s-slow down…” you moaned out, yet your lips moving against hers said the complete opposite. You burned for her, your body screaming for her hands to be all over you all at once.
You could feel her smirk against your lips, made you whine. She was being so fucking smug, and it made you want her more. You were tugging at her shirt, any anger you had in your body gone, now replaced with the desperate need that you had for her, burning you from the inside out. “Tell me what you want baby..anything…I’ll do anything for you”
Her words were genuine, making you feel light headed. She made it sound like she’d go to the ends of the earth for you, crossing the seven seas for you, whatever you fucking wanted, she’d give it to you.
You moaned softly, confidence coursing through your veins as you grabbed her wrist, guiding her to cup your clothed pussy, letting her feel how wet you were. “Here…need you here Els…please…” you whined out.
Ellie groaned, feeling that familiar animalistic desire fill her up to the fucking brim. Her hunger was usually in her stomach, empty and annoying, but now, with you, she felt it pulsing against her cunt.
“Fuck…come here baby…lemme take care of you…” She walked you back towards the bed, her chest pressed against yours, she kept going until the back of your knees were pressing against the bed and forcing you to sit down on it for her.
You whined softly as you stared up at her in awe, feeling your heart burst with how fucking pretty your best friend looked standing above you. She used her knee to push your legs apart, spreading them further for her before she crawled towards you, pressing her lips against yours once again as she pushed you to sit back further on the bed.
“Lemme make it up to you Bambi…yeah?” Her words made you moan, and you nodded eagerly. For a minute her words from the library were flashing through your mind again your heart tugged, but the attention she was giving you now was truly making up for it.
She kissed down your body, pushing your shirt up and revealing your pretty nipples for her. She hissed, latching her lips around one of them as her hand pressed between your legs, feeling up the wet cotton of your panties.
You were like a dream, your moans and whines making her feel like it wasn’t even real for a moment. The small gasp you let out when she pushed your panties to the side was like music to her ears. You pouted softly when you felt her smirk against, your patience growing thinner and thinner with every passing moment.
“More Ellie..please…fuck…please” you begged, and Ellie wanted nothing more than to please you. She tugged your panties to the side, letting her long fingers dip into your soaked heat.
“Fuck…pussy is so fucking warm for me baby…my perfect fucking girl…gonna be dripping down my fingers if I waited any longer huh?” She questioned. You nodded eagerly, watching her with hazy, lust filled eyes. She reached that familiar spongy spot inside of your cunt and you were sure you were close to tears
Her words were too much, and the feeling of her long fingers, knuckle deep inside of your pussy had you a mess, a mess just for her, and something about that finally satisfied the hunger that she felt all the time.
She began kissing down your body, needing to feel more of you against her. She wanted to be filled up to the brim with you, her senses absolutely overwhelmed with you.
The sight of her slotted between your legs made you moan softly, your eyebrows furrowed as you watched her, a needy moan leaving your throat as your hand came down to tug at her hair gently.
Ellie let out a low groan when she caught sight of your pussy, licking her lips as she pressed her hands against your thighs, spreading you further.
“Fuck…would’a look at that…can practically see you throbbing for me baby…so wet and needy…fuck…lemme taste you baby…” she sighed out, her words muffled as she pressed her plump lips against your soaked core.
Your back arched almost painfully once you felt her skilled tongue flicking your clit back and forth. The feeling was so foreign yet so familiar, as if the girl belonged there, as if she was made to please you.
And she felt the exact same, the feeling of your hands tugging at her hair was like the purest ecstasy she had ever felt. Her green eyes staring up at you as she latched her lips to your weeping pussy, keeping her mouth suctioned onto you as you began grinding against her face.
She wanted to drown in you, she was even sure that if you suffocated her with your thighs, she’d been totally fine with it. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, stopping you from running away as you wriggled beneath her, unable to deal with the pleasure that she was giving you.
But she gave you no choice but to take it. Her lips were latched onto, making your back arch as you felt yourself cumming all over her face.
Her eyes were rolling to the back of her head as she moaned into you, and it was almost like she was the one that was experiencing the most electrifying orgasm that she had experienced in her entire life, and not you.
The pleasure was soon swapped out with an overwhelming feeling of sensitivity that was consuming you with every flick of her tongue. “Ellie…mmm…fuck..come here…wanna kiss you…please..” you whined out.
Her lips unlatched from your pussy with a pop, and it prompted you to whimper softly. Her face was soaked with your arousal, but her eyes were filled with pure love and adoration as she crawled her way up to you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. The taste of yourself made you moan, and Ellie was already pushing her tongue into your mouth and prepping you for what else she had planned.
Her words were muffled against your lips, as she didn’t want to leave your mouth for even a few seconds. “Can you give me one more baby? Wanna fuck you….can you do that for me baby?” You whined softly against her, already nodding and tugging at her top.
“Want it…fuck…I can do it I promise…please Ellie…” you sighed out, your hand slipping underneath her shirt and giving her nipple a soft pinch. She hissed softly at the feeling before she nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips. “That’s my girl…lay back for me baby…” She moaned out, her hands massaging your thighs as she gently pushed you back to lay on the bed.
You took it upon yourself to pull your top off, leaving you only in your skirt as you stared up at her. Ellie peeled her top off as well before she undid her jeans, pushing them down along with her boxers, leaving her naked above you.
You brought your hands up to undo the button to your denim skirt before she grabbed your hand, shaking her head as she swiftly pulled off your soaked panties. “Leave it…I like this skirt on you” she smirked down at you, causing you to blush.
She grabbed your thigh, slotting herself between you and pressing her wet pussy against yours. The second she felt you, she let out a long, loud moan. It was like the hunger she had been cursed with had finally been satisfied once she felt herself press up against you. She looked down at you, watching the way your slick and hers mixed together, coating your pretty pussy and glistening just for her. Her hand gripped your ankle, and you watched in awe as her tattoo flexed as she thrusted against you, her pussy bringing you pleasure that you had truly never felt before.
“H-Ahh! Fuck…Ellie please…please go faster…mmm…fuck fuck fuck fuck” you moaned out, your eyes squeezing shut. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of her pussy on yours.
A firm hand gripping your cheeks made your eyes flutter open, and you gasped softly at Ellie staring down at you, her lip tugged between her teeth as she groaned and moaned above you.
“Don’t close your eyes..you need to fucking look at me when I’m fucking you. Tell me who’s making you feel this good, tell me who you fucking belonged to” she gritted out, squishing your cheeks together so that your eyes would stay on yours.
And you always knew the answer, you’d always belonged to Ellie. From the moment she found you, you were hers, and there was no way you could ever deny that.
You moaned loudly at her words, reaching your hand towards her and catching her nipple in your hand, cupping her boob and flicking her nipple between your fingers before you nodded. “M’yours El…all yours…always…mmmph-…have been…ahh I’m gonna cum!”
Your words made her insides coil, and she felt like she could die happily right the and there. She nodded, prompting you further as she moved her hips faster, speeding up the pace of her pussy grinding down against yours.
“Cum for me, fuck….I fucking love you…i fucking love you Bambi…fuck!”
Your orgasm hit you like a train the second she said it, and you weren’t even totally sure if she really did say it. Sure you’d told each other you loved one another before, but god it was never like this. It wasn’t like she was on top of you fucking herself down onto you, but she was saying it, and you felt like you’d pass out.
And if you thought you were hallucinating before, god were you wrong now.
Because you swore when she threw her head back and came on your pussy, you saw pretty, pointy white fangs gleaming in the dark room.
She collapsed on top of you, breathing hard as she pressed her face into your neck. You stared up at the ceiling, her hands wrapping around your waist and keeping your naked body close to her own.
You were in shock, because your best friend had just fucked the day lights out of you and you weren’t totally sure if it was a dream, or if it was real, and she told you she loved you…
And you could feel her fangs grazing against your neck.
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adragonprinceswhore · 7 months
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Warm Me Up l Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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Summary: You've grown close to Aemond in the months since your wedding, but when you overstep during a dinner with his brother, King Aegon II, Aemond needs to put you in your place.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, AFAB reader, temperature play, light bondage, brat taming, referenced spanking, BDSM dynamics, dom!Aemond, sub!reader, smut, petting, P in V, kinda angsty in the beginning, kinda fluffy in the end
Word Count: 3100
A/N: I slipped and wrote some PwP (minimal plot, but still), oops
Getting to know your new spouse after a hasty betrothal and wedding proves to be a far lengthier process than the swift unification of two great houses had been. 
When first being presented to Aemond as his future wife, you’d been unsure of how to approach him. His stoic façade and short-worded answers left you confused after every interaction, wondering if he’d ever let you get to know him or if you’d spend a lifetime together with a shell of a person. However, as time went on you noticed that the imperturbable prince proved to be a loyal husband, and by opening yourself up a bit to him, he returned the favour and allowed you to get to know him as well. 
You’d now grown closer than you’d ever imagined possible in the beginning of your union, and you felt thoroughly satisfied with the state of your marriage. You found yourself and Aemond connecting and relating to each other immensely. Behind closed doors there seemed to be no more barriers separating the two of you from each other.
In public, however, you did not always see eye to eye. 
The grip Aemond had around your arm was bruising as he led you into your shared chambers, letting go of you to close and bar the door. 
“Have I not asked you to watch your tongue in the presence of others?” he asked, still facing the door. You noticed the tension in his shoulders and the way his voice sounded unnaturally calm, as if he was trying too hard to sound composed. 
You knew from the moment the words had left your lips that Aemond would not approve. Yet, you could not hinder the words spilling from your lips as your entire being became consumed with irritation over the thoughtless remark King Aegon had uttered during dinner.
“It was not my intention to speak out of turn, husband, but you know as well as I do that the King’s comment-”
“It does not matter! I’ve asked you to hold your tongue in public, especially when it comes to my brother”, he interrupts, the fake calmness he’d previously tried to maintain slipping away. “Engaging with him will only rile him up, he will not relent until he’s had the last word and left you humiliated. Do you truly wish to enter an altercation like that with the King? You know it will serve no good”. 
You swallow thickly and look down at the floor, suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of regret and shame, making you unable to face Aemond. You could feel his eyes boring into you. 
You heard him sigh and walk towards where you stood, voice calmer yet more authoritative than before, “Take off your dress and get on the bed”. 
You knew not to argue, feeling a tiny spark of excitement at the possibility of him disciplining you for your transgressions at dinner. You had gone against his wishes before, hoping he would spank you as you had found yourself getting impossibly aroused from the act. During those instances, however, he had been far less displeased with you. This time, you hadn’t defied him with a cheeky grin and a glint in your eye. This time, you had been unable to keep your mouth shut. 
You swiftly took your dress off, quickly working your fingers along the buttons of your bodice in order to yank it down your body. Stepping out of the garment, you raised your head to make contact with Aemond’s eye, showing him that you’d follow his commands without resistance. 
“Your smallclothes as well, wife. Take everything off and get on the bed, on your belly”. 
You do as he says without much thought, feeling your heart beginning to race at what’s to come. You cannot decipher if you feel excitement or dread at what he will do next, but you know you’re dying to find out. 
Aemond eye trails your naked form as you step out of your smallclothes and get on the bed, following his instructions without protest. He undoes his belt and instructs you to tuck your legs under your body, leaving you no option but to press your face against the soft, dark green sheets as he kneels on the bed behind you, taking both your hands and tying them behind your back. 
He moves off the bed and kneels next to it, taking your chin in his hand and moving your face so that you are facing him. He still appears stoic, but you can see the fury dancing in his eye as he looks into yours and tells you that he will know if you’ve moved and he will be back when you have learned to watch your tongue. You swallow thickly and nod softly. He stands up, takes one final look at your naked silhouette on his bed and turns around to leave, shutting the door behind him. 
Once alone, the reality of the situation begins to settle. The hearth has not been lit, and the chilling autumn air easily penetrates the chambers through the large windows facing the sea. King’s Landing suffered more from heat than chill, and the Red Keep was built to allow air to flow through the building rather than to keep warmth in. Without your clothes and the hearth, you found the room you otherwise regarded as cosy and comfortable to be chill and foreign. 
Your mind began to race as you regarded the state you found yourself in further. Had Aemond locked the door? What if someone were to enter just to find you in this humiliating state, with your arse on display for all to see. You felt a shiver go through your body at the thought. Or was it due to the crisp breeze flowing through the chambers? 
You knew you could turn your body around and get off the bed easily, despite being unable to move your arms. The thought became more and more tempting as your skin grew colder, gooseflesh spreading over your arms and legs. But what would Aemond think? You’d already upset him and part of you knew that what you did had been foolish, speaking in the way that you did to the King would have left others without their tongue. You wanted to show him that you regretted your words. So you relaxed your jaw to stop yourself from gritting your teeth and waited. 
You do not know how much time has passed when Aemond finally returns. You find it hard not to shiver, your body has gone impossibly cold and your feet and hands start to feel numb. He comes up to the side of the bed and stands next to you, looking down at your slightly trembling body with satisfaction.
“Have you learnt your lesson yet, wife?” he asks and you hum weakly, wishing he would allow you to get dressed and end your agony. 
He smiles softly, flickering his eye from your exposed bottom to your face. 
“And you haven’t moved since I left?” You meet his eye and softly shake your head, earning you a smirk from the prince. 
“I knew you were a good wife. I am so proud of your display of obedience”. 
As he speaks, he places his warm palm on your cold buttock and you let out a moan at the pleasurable feeling, surprising both yourself and him at your immediate reaction. His smirk grows wider and dimples appear on his cheeks. You don't know if you’ve ever seen them before. 
“Does my sweet wife need me to warm her up?” he asks with an almost mocking hint to his voice, but you don't care. The hand he had placed on your buttock comes back to rub your lower back and the heat from his palm feels so good that you cannot say no. 
“Yes, husband. Please touch me”, you say and he quickly moves behind you, placing both of his large hands on the back of your thighs and begins to move them upwards, stopping at your shoulders. You sigh loudly, relishing in the wonderful feeling of his warm hands on your cold body. You do not know the last time you had felt such a strong feeling of relief. 
He continues to caress your body and you notice yourself getting more and more aroused. The next time his hands reach your buttocks, they travel to your front, caressing your belly and move up towards your breasts, cupping them both. You moan again, not fully recognising yourself and this new inability to control your mouth. 
You hear Aemond sigh behind you as he leans down over your body to place a few kisses on your shoulders whilst continuing to knead your breasts. The cold leather of his tunic and trousers do not feel as comforting as his warm hands have and you hiss as your cold back makes contact with his cold, rough attire. 
“Please husband, take off your clothes. I need you to warm me” you plead, desperation evident in your voice. 
Aemond hums and pulls away from you to quickly discard his clothes on the floor next to the bed. You try to turn your head and look at him, but the awkward position your body is in does not allow for you to see him. Once he is completely undressed, he moves back to the bed, kneeling behind you so closely that his thighs touch the back of yours. 
You know that the blood of the dragon runs hot within his body and in this moment you couldn’t be happier, loving the way that his warm skin gives you relief from the cold air of the chambers. 
He begins to drag his palms softly along your body once more, stopping at your front before wrapping both of his arms around your torso and slowly laying down on top of you. 
Again, you moan in an almost uncharacteristic way at how good the warmth of his skin feels against yours, noticing the dull throb between your thighs growing stronger and stronger. 
Aemond tucks his head in your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair and skin. 
“Does this feel good, wife?”, you hear him mumble into your hair. 
“Yes”, you sigh, feeling utterly consumed by his body. You notice the familiar hardness pushing at your behind to be his erection, and you take pride in knowing that he wants you as much as you want him. 
“You’ve been such a sweet, obedient wife for me. Ask me anything and I’ll be a sweet, obedient husband for you” he says, moving his head from your neck to press kisses down your shoulder. You know what he wants you to answer. You know that he loves you submissive, begging for him to make you feel good. 
“Please, keep touching me”, you beg as he moves off of you to sit on his haunches behind your kneeling form, taking your tied up hands in his and gently undoing his belt. He discards the belt on the floor and begins to softly caress your wrists, noticing the remnants of his belt there. He grabs your arms and softly places them down by your head, leaning in to kiss your cheek before tucking away a strand of hair that has fallen to cover your face. 
His palms travel from your arms down your torso and end up on your behind again. 
“Do you wish for me to touch you here, sweet girl?” he asks before beginning to knead your buttocks a bit too harshly for your liking. You do not dare to protest though, the feeling of his warm hands on your cold body too good to risk. You moan again and lift your head to look back at him, seeing the same confident smirk as before on his face. 
“Or would you like me to touch you here?” he inquires before trailing one of his hands down between your buttocks to meet your soaking centre. All you can do is moan again, meeting his eye and noticing the proud glint there. 
He chuckles, “Such a wanton little thing you’ve become. Does obeying your prince arouse you so?” he questions, and you know that the look on your face and the sounds of pleasure you let out are enough of an answer for him. 
The lack of his warm body on yours leaves you shivering again, and when he suddenly withdraws his hand from between your legs, you feel disappointment wash over you. He seems to notice and lets out an amused huff as he meets your eye, seemingly entertained by the desperate way in which you have come to crave him. 
He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, fisting his already hard cock a few times before turning to you and beckoning you to come over with a flick of his head. You get up from the bed quickly, legs a bit wobbly from the extended time you’ve been kneeling on the bed. 
You stand in front of him and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss to your nipple, then moves to do the same to the other. He placed both of his large, warm hands on your hips and you sigh at the wonderful relief again. He turns you around and grabs your hips once more, manoeuvring you so that you’re bending down with your back towards him. He grabs his cock in his hand and trails it up and down your slit a few times, smearing your slick over its head while making sure to push at your pearl a few times. 
When he places the tip at your entrance, he wraps his arms around you and pushes you down on top of him, impaling you on his cock. Although you have had him plenty of times, the stretch stung a bit from the lack of preparation you’d had, though you barely registered it. The feeling of relief that your cold skin experienced when being enveloped by his warm body and the pleasure of his cock entering you and immediately finding that spot within you that makes you see stars almost becomes too much to handle as you groan loudly and throw your head back to rest on Aemond’s shoulder. 
He wastes no time and begins to thrust up into you whilst using the hold he has on your body to continuously impale you on his cock. You try to keep up with his pace but the immense pleasure blazing through your entire body leaves you incapable of doing much more than taking whatever he gives you. 
The harsh sounds of your skin smacking together, his cock repeatedly entering your wet centre and your combined breaths fill the room. Aemond keeps a steady pace, the muscles of his toned arms flexing around your body as he holds you tightly, taking his pleasure from your body. 
His face is pressed to yours, cheek to cheek, as he breathes loudly through his nose. He tilts his head so that his mouth is right next to your ear, “You do not know what you do to me, sweet wife. I cannot stay cross with you for long, even when I wish to”. 
With the little strength and physical control you still possess, you turn your head to face him and press your lips to his, attempting to pour all your pent up feelings of excitement, nervousness and devotion into the kiss. He grunts into your mouth and closes his eyes in bliss, but his pace never relents. 
One of your hands seeks his and you pry it off the grip it has right under your breast, taking hold of it and guiding it down to the apex of your thighs. With his hand in yours, you begin to draw small, determined circles on your pearl, pressing on his fingers in order to let him know how firm you want his touch to be. 
You feel your orgasm approach you quickly, sensing a tight knot in your lower stomach about to burst within you. As it finally does, you press your head back against Aemond’s shoulder and let out a moan loud enough to alert the entire Red Keep of you and your husband’s activities. 
Your body jerks in Aemond’s arms as pleasure pours through your body, sending lightning bolts from your core down to your toes and up into your chest. 
“Fu-, fuck, your cunt’s-”, Aemond interrupts himself with a groan as the tightening pulsation of your heat around him sets off his own peak. 
His hips buck up into you for a few more seconds before he stills, still holding you tightly in his arms as he drops his head to rest on your shoulder. 
“Would you like me to call for the servants to pour you a bath, my love? Warm you up?”, he inquires, still sounding out of breath behind you. 
You let out a breathy laugh and turn yourself slightly in his arms so that you can face him again. His cheeks are flustered and his eyes are half-open, he looks equal parts tired and satisfied and you realise you probably look the same. “You have successfully warmed me up, dear husband. Now all I ask of you is that you allow me to stay in your embrace”. 
For a second he almost looks bashful at your words, but before you have a chance to ponder it further, he lifts you off of him and helps you lay down on the bed, this time tucking you in underneath the sheets before quickly fetching a cloth to clean you both up. When he’s done he tosses it on the floor and climbs down to lay next to you, pulling you towards him with you face right in front of his.
“It is not my desire for you to hold your tongue when we are alone”, he speaks quietly, looking into your eyes as one of his hands starts to play with your hair. “But you must understand that life at court is unforgiving, especially if you attempt to speak against the King”. His eye searches your face for a reaction and you nod softly.
His thumb travels down to caress your cheekbone, “I could not bear to see you hurt. I only wish for you to obey me because I care for your well-being”. It feels like your heart is melting at his words, spilling from your chest down your limps and consuming your entire being. You press your forehead against his and close your eyes, revelling in the feeling of adoration you have towards your husband. You realise that you’ve never said it before, but you could not have stopped the confession slipping out if you’d wanted to.
“I love you”.
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A/N: Thank you for reading babes! This is my first ever fanfic and I've only ever written research papers in English before, so I hope this wasn't too stiff and boring, lol. Please let me know what you thought of it if you read all the way here, I'd love to hear your opinions!
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