#as if she hasn’t made it clear she’s just saying whatever will get her into power with 0 genuinely held beliefs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fushigowo · 2 years ago

Text

𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

╰┈➤ gojo satoru x fem!reader

╰┈➤ synopsis: in your LIT 2000, your classmate, gojo satoru, has his eyes set on the shyest student after telling his theory to getou suguru that the shyest ones are always the horniest. to prove his theory right, satoru finds ways to know whether he’s correct and he’s absolutely sure that he is.

╰┈➤ warnings: fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, teasing, praise, degradation? soft to rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dumbification, doggy style, cowgirl, name-calling, size kink, spanking, begging, pleasure dom satoru!! (reader and satoru are in their early 20s)

╰┈➤ a/n: this was supposed to be posted on christmas but i didn’t finish it on time :(( but i hope u all had a gentle holiday!! as a gift, i wrote whatever this is and i got inspiration from this soundgasm audio which is HOT AF!!! also, i did not proofread this. im lazy as fuck

PART I | PART II

Gojo Satoru has his pretty cerulean eyes set on someone, and that someone is none other than you.

You sit at the very front of the classroom, three rows in front of Satoru’s where he can get a clear view of you every time he stares. Not only you’re the smartest and the teacher’s pet, Satoru considers you as the most mysterious student in LIT 2000 despite being with 30 more students because of how quiet you are.

Satoru’s been observing you since the start of the year and the thing that he noticed the most was that you rarely and he means rarely talk to anyone or even participate in class. Whenever you’re called by the professor, you would mumble some I don’t knows and I’m sorrys because you can’t answer the question that was given to you. However, Satoru knew for a fact that you’re just saying those things so you won’t get to speak longer than that. He knew very well that you know the answer to every damn question.

Which is why he is so lucky to have you as a partner for a midterm essay.

As for you, you don’t know what to feel when professor called your name after Gojo Satoru’s.

You don’t really have a problem writing a five-page or more essay with a minimum of three thousand words. The problem is… Gojo Satoru is your partner. It’s not like you don’t like him. It’s just that...

Holy fucking shit. Did she figure out that I have a huge crush on Satoru?! Is that why she paired me up with him? But I made sure not to make it obvious! No, no. This won’t do.

So after class was over, you had a talk with your professor, begging for her to take the midterm essay on your own. The talk didn’t go well as planned.

Since Satoru is having a hard time catching up with LIT 2000, your professor told you to help him by partnering up in this midterm essay. However, that didn’t sit right with you so you protested, saying that there’s a chance that Satoru wouldn’t help writing the paper which would result into you writing the entire thing yourself. But that was just an excuse not to work with Satoru, otherwise you would get all flustered and nervous throughout the week while working on this midterm essay.

“It is not different from doing the entire essay myself,” you scoff.

“I know, but that is also why I partnered him with you,” she says, making you raise an eyebrow. “You can let me know if Satoru didn’t help with anything at all, which is easier for me to fail him.”

“You’re gonna fail him?” you ask.

“Yes. As you can see, Satoru hasn’t been performing well in my class,” she says, “but I figured you can help him since you’re my top performing student. Can I count on you?”

“There are other top performing students in your class though,” you mumble. Sighing in defeat, you agreed to partner up with Satoru. “Professor, did you know that I have a crush on Satoru? Is that another reason why you paired me with him?”

Silence. She knows.

“I genuinely did not know that until now.”

Crap. She doesn’t know. And I told her?! Holy—

“ForgetIsaidanythingprofessorthankyouforyourtimegoodbye.”

With that, you immediately rushed out of her office and slammed the door shut.

The only reason why you wanted to do this midterm essay on your own is because you won't have to deal with Satoru’s presence. Oh, his presence alone would make you so nervous that your smartass brain won’t even function and you would get all flustered, which is really bad because this might hinder your focus on working on the essay. Not only that, but Gojo Satoru does not take things seriously. A complete opposite of you since you take everything related to academics very seriously. But you realized that it won’t hurt to give a little help for Satoru to not fail LIT 2000.

Meanwhile, Gojo Satoru wanders around the halls of the building, in hopes of searching for you so the two of you can start working on the essay. But before that, he had a talk with his best friend, Getou Suguru.

“Yo, Satoru,” Suguru approached the white-haired man with one hand raised up. “I heard your partner for this midterm is that girl. Won’t this be the perfect time to test that theory of yours?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not trying to get into her pants,” Satoru says and a smirk grew on his glossy lips, ”not unless she wants me to.”

After your talk with your literature professor, you had to compose yourself in the rest room and even practiced a script on how you’re going to talk to Satoru. However, you had a realization that this isn’t going to be the only time that you’ll interact with Gojo Satoru since your professor knows that you have a thing for him. You scold yourself for being so nervous around him, despite being a grown ass woman.

But Satoru is… just so pretty. I can’t even look at him straight in the eyes. Also because I’ve touched myself to the thought of him so that would be awkward as fuck.

When you finally got out of the restroom, you heard a loud voice from behind and the minute you heard that voice, you already knew that it would be him. Looking over your shoulder, Satoru in his white long sleeves, black pants, messy yet gorgeous white hair and those round sunglasses. The tall man approached you with a smile on his face while you try not to melt down the ground that you’re standing on.

“I was looking for you,” Satoru says. “I thought we could start working on the essay so we can finish it ahead of the deadline.”

“You—uh, you want to start working now?” you ask, but a hint of nervousness in your voice.

“Yep!” Satoru gives you a smile and a thumbs up, and suddenly, he leans down on your face and brings his lips closer to your ear, making you shiver. “Just between you and me, I think professor is failing me this semester.”

Your eyes widen when he mentioned that.

Could it be that he heard your conversation with your professor earlier? Did he also hear the part where you told her that you have a crush on Satoru? That would make him think that you’re a complete loser in your 20s and in college yet you act like a teenager with a crush. But it’s not your fault that you’ve rejected so many guys because they’re not your standards and it’s definitely not your fault that you reject them because they’re not Satoru.

“Why would you think that?” you ask.

“Mmm? Because I haven’t been performing well in her class.” he grinned.

So he knows.

“Uh, let’s start then,” you say before walking pass him until he asked where you’re going. You look over your shoulder and said, “the library. It’s where I usually do my tasks if not in my apartment.”

“The library is too… quiet. So we’ll work in your apartment instead!”

It’s a library so it would be quiet. And did he just decide that on his own? God, he’s so stupid, I love him.

Your apartment is not far from your university. The reason why you had an apartment for yourself is because you don’t want another person taking up space and you most definitely don’t want to live with another person that you barely even know. And you’re not bothered that you’re living off-campus. It just makes it easier for you to live independently.

When the two of you got in your apartment, Satoru’s cerulean eyes scanned and observed the place. It was neat and everything is organized. But the thing that caught his attention is the stack of books next to the balcony of your apartment. Four stack of books that almost reach Satoru’s waist and he’s a tall guy. He knew that you read a lot since every time he takes glances at you in class, you’re either reading or writing something so he knows that you like reading, but he didn’t expect you to like it that much.

“Sorry, it’s a mess here,” you mumble. “Let’s get started.” You sit down on the wooden floor as you place your laptop on the coffee table adjacent to Satoru who is now sitting on the couch.

“I forgot my laptop.”

You blinked. Twice.

“Sit next to me.” he mumbled.

And that’s what you did despite being flustered at the thought that it’s only you and Satoru inside your apartment. The thought has you squeezing your legs together as you try to listen to Satoru about his ideas regarding the midterm essay. However, your thoughts were making your mind foggy and you couldn’t think straight. It’s awkward that on this very couch, you’ve touched yourself to the thought of Satoru and now, he’s sitting right next to you.

“Hey,” Satoru calls out. “You okay?”

“Mmm, yeah…” you mumble. “Since, uh, since professor asked us to analyze a chosen text from the 20th century regarding its social context, let’s choose a piece first to write about first. Do you have anything in mind?” you ask, trying your best to not make eye contact with him now that he doesn’t have his round sunglasses on.

“I have a few,” he says. “How about The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath? Or No Longer Human by Dazai Osamu? Ah! I know. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.”

“Am I the only one who didn’t cry my eyes out at the end?” you ask.

“What? You did not cry your eyes out at the end?! Are you even human?” Satory’s eyes widen, looking at you with shock while your eyes are locked on your laptop as you type. “I had snot coming out of my nose that soaked the pages of my book when I read that.”

“First of all, that’s disgusting. Second, it was sad, I admit, but I didn’t shed a tear. It was really good though so kudos to you, Mr. Steinbeck.” you chuckle. “Third, I gave it a five stars so you don’t have to attack me.”

Satoru laughs, making you flustered all over again. This is the first time you’ve heard him laugh this close and he’s laughing because of you, and you like it of course. You like that he’s comfortable around you and you like that he’s still himself despite you being awkward around his presence.

“You know, you’re actually fun to be with,” he says. Satoru’s legs are crossed while his elbow is resting on the arm rest and his cheek is on top of his closed palm as he stares at you with his pretty cerulean eyes. “But why can’t you look at me in the eyes?”

You gulped, squeezing your legs together since you can feel him staring daggers at you. Satoru seems to notice your action and a smirk formed on his glossy lips. Satoru moves closer to you, almost like you can feel his hot breath touching the sensitive part of your neck, making you shiver.

“Are you scared of me?” he asks and the only answer you could give him is by shaking your head, telling him that it’s a no. “Hmm? Then why can’t you look at me?”

You didn’t answer.

“Look at me,” he demand.

This time, you feel Satoru’s fingers making its way down your chin, making you face him and look up at him but despite his actions of forcing you to stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, you didn’t protest at all… because you like every single move he’s making on you. Satoru’s other hand glides down your arm, feeling your soft skin that made you shiver because of his warm touch.

When your eyes met his, you couldn’t help but melt on your seat. And it’s not just because Satoru is staring at you.

“There you go,” he chuckles. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now tell me, sweetheart, why are so flustered around me?”

You couldn’t form the words. Of course you can’t. How could you even continue to talk when Gojo motherfucking Satoru is so close to you that his hot breath is almost touching your skin and his hands are caressing your arms and chin, leaving you no choice but stare into his eyes. Not to mention the smirk that he has on his glossy lips.

“T-that’s because I… I—fuck.” you curse under your breath, trying hard to compose yourself and break eye contact.

“Do I make you nervous? Is that why you’re squirming and squeezing your leg so much?” he chuckles.

You bit your lips—hard—trying to wake yourself up and check if you’re having another wet dream about Satoru again. Fortunately, you are fully awake and the person right in front of you is the real Gojo Satoru. Not your fantasy, not your dream, but real. It was hard you to believe that something that you wanted for so long finally came true and you most definitely won’t let this moment go.

“S-Satoru…” you whisper, almost inaudible.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks with a smile on his face. “Is there something you want? Or need?”

He knows what he’s doing. He definitely knows what he’s doing.

“Touch me…” you mumble under your breath. “Just—touch me, please.”

With that, Satoru chuckles before leaning in towards your ears. His hands trailing down, from your chin down to your neck and wraps his slender fingers around the base, but not too tight. Just enough to make you squirm and squeeze your legs even more.

“If the shy girl wants it then who am I to refuse?” he whispers, his hot breath touching your skin that caused the hairs of your body to stand up.

Suddenly, you feel a wet yet hot sensation make contact with your ears, making its way down your jaw while Satoru’s hand tilt your head to the sides to give him more access of licking and kissing your jaw and neck. Your back touched the arm rest behind you as Satoru slowly pushed you down. He held both your thighs, positioning them to open so he can stay in between them as he kisses your neck down your collarbone, leaving bites and marks.

As Satoru devours your neck and collarbone, his hand expertly unbuttons your shirt while the other caresses your thighs, his fingers making circle patterns on your skin. When your buttons are finally undone, Satoru opens your shirt so he can clearly see your body underneath him. He pulls away from you so he can properly enjoy the view then pulls his shirt over his head.

Your half-lidded eyes earlier suddenly widen when you saw the perfect view of Satoru’s body. A body that was almost carved by the gods themselves and that wasn’t even the main attraction that caught your attention. It was the veins running down his crotch and that fucking v-line.

“You like the view from down there, slut?” he chuckles but then he noticed how you whined and squirmed underneath him when he called you slut. “Oh? Did you like being called that?”

You nod. But Satoru doesn’t take that as an answer so his hand made its way down to your neck again but he wasn’t squeezing it too hard.

“Yes,” you say. “I like it, Satoru. Like it when you—ngh—when you call me a slut.”

“Good. Because that’s what you are,” he mumbles as he leans down to your chest, leaving marks and kisses. “Such a shy little slut for me.”

But the white-haired man scoffs because your bra is in the way. He didn’t bother taking it off by clasping it. He just pulled it down to expose your nipples and didn’t waste any time to lick and suck your sensitive bud, making you arch your back. Satoru’s fingers pinch your other nipple while his knee keeps on pushing and adding pressure on your sensitive pussy, still covered with your now-soaked panties.

Satoru continues to feast on you body while you squirm and moan underneath him. When he was finally done with your tits, Satoru’s kisses went even further down until he reached your skirt. Being the impatient asshole he is, he didn’t bother taking them off and just lifts it up, exposing your panties that has a wet area because of your arousal.

A smirk grew on the white-haired man’s lips and didn’t hesitate to touch the wet area using his index and middle finger. He pushes his fingers on your sensitive bud with enough pressure to have you arching your back. Satoru might be an impatient man but of course he would take your panties off to have better access on your soaking pussy.

Realizing that your cunt is now exposed of Gojo motherfucking Satoru, your hand instinctively covered your pussy as if he did not just suck your tits earlier. But seeing your pussy is different. Of course you’d be shy and flustered. He’s Gojo Satoru, for god’s sake. He’s seen more pussy other than yours.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he mumbles. “Take your hands off or I’ll tie them together.”

With that, you slowly took away your hand, letting him see your soaked pussy.

“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he smiles. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Satoru leans down so he can easily make contact with your cunt. His fingers rub your slit, soaking it with your juices and you couldn’t help but arch your back. A smile grows on his face and suddenly, you can feel him insert a finger inside your cunt, making you whine. His thumb draws circles around your clit that made your thighs quiver until you feel another finger being inserted inside you.

Satoru plunges his fingers in and out of you yet in a slow and sensual pace. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he inserts his digits back. A smirk forms on his glossy lips and plunges his fingers even deeper, deeper than you could reach yourself.

You’ve fingered yourself before but—god, this was so different than what you would usually feel. Is it because his fingers are thicker and longer than yours? Or is it because he’s so fucking good at it?

“Ah! Satoru!” you whine. “R-right there! Right there, please!”

The squelching noise that your pussy and Satoru’s fingers are creating together as well as your wanton moans filled the air of your apartment. You didn’t care how loud you were. You didn’t care if the walls are thin and you didn’t care if your neighbors hear you. You didn’t care about anything else, you just want Satoru to make you cum with his fingers.

Satoru’s pace becomes even more faster, but he figured that it wasn’t enough. Of course it’s not enough. He wasn’t satisfied with just using his fingers.

So he leans down and lolled his tongue out, not even hesitating to lick your sensitive clit, making you jolt and arch your back when you suddenly feel his tongue circling around your clit while his fingers plunge in and out of you. Your legs start to quiver and squirm. The sensation was too much for you that you couldn’t help but close your legs. But Satoru wasn’t done so he grips your legs apart and held the back of your thighs to keep you in place.

This time, Satoru pulls his fingers out and held your thighs in place but his tongue is doing all the work now, licking and sucking your poor overstimulated pussy. Your eyes suddenly widen and your back arched when you feel Satoru insert his tongue inside you, plunging it deeper that his nose is touching your clit.

“Oh, fuck! Satoru! It’s—ngh—too much! I can’t—!”

Your whines and moans continue but Satoru was too busy eating you. But he suddenly pulls away to look at your view. You look so fucked and he didn’t even used his cock yet.

“For someone who’s shy and quiet, you’re being awfully loud for me, sweetheart.” he chuckles before devouring your cunt again.

Satoru can already feel that you’re close. He knows you’re close so he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit and that’s when you completely lost it.

Your legs quiver on Satoru’s grip when you feel your orgasm rip through you. The sensation that Satoru made you feel had you seeing stars, something that you never felt before whenever you touch yourself and this might’ve been the first time that you came this intense. And it felt so fucking good.

Seeing your fucked out state, Satoru chuckles as he watches you catch your breath after that intense orgasm.

“You still with me?” he asks. “I haven’t even used my cock yet!”

“Then use it. Fuck me, Satoru… I want your cock inside me, please.”

“Kiss me first. Come up here and kiss me.” he smiles.

You didn’t hesitate to sit back up and reach for Satoru’s face. Your hand made their way to his cheek while the other caresses his soft white hair. He returns the kiss and inserts his tongue inside your mouth, writhing and swirling against yours. This time, Satoru settles himself next to the arm rest, laying down on the couch while his head rests on the arm rest. Now, you’re on top of him, kissing his glossy lips and grinding your aching pussy on the bulge of his pants.

“Why don’t you do the honors and take my cock out?” Satoru smirks in between your kisses.

And who were you to deny that?

So you unzip Satoru’s pants, bringing it down to reveal the bulge inside his boxers. His cock sprung free when you slid down his boxers, slapping against his lower abdomen. Its size and girth has you gulping because you haven’t seen a cock that big. Sure, you’ve fucked yourself using your dildos but none of your toys compare to Satoru’s cock. A prominent vein runs along the underside of the base of his cock, its pinkish head is releasing pre-cum that drips down to the base.

You didn’t have any idea what you were doing when you had the urge to suck Satoru’s cock. But the white-haired man didn’t have any protests, of course. In fact, his hand is guiding your head to suck on his pulsating cock. After realizing that you didn’t need any guidance, Satoru lets you do your thing.

You let your tongue swirl around the base of his cock and despite it being deep inside your throat, you’re barely even gagging as you take him deeper that your nose is touching his nicely trimmed hair. You continue to suck and lick Satoru’s cock, making him release pretty moans and groans and curses under his breath.

When he felt himself getting close, Satoru couldn’t help but grip your hair and guide your head even though you’re sucking him so well. He just needed something to hold on to and your hair was perfect.

“Ah, fuck! I’m gonna cum. Shit!” he moans until he feels himself release inside your throat. Satoru lets you pull away. Your saliva and some of his cum is leaking down your chin, making him wipe it using his thumb.

“Holy shit. That was so good,” he chuckles. “You sure it’s your first time sucking cock?”

“Uh, well, I-I had some practice,” you say, “with my… toys.”

“Who knew you were such a horny slut?” Satoru didn’t let you answer when he told you to—

“Sit on my cock,” he says. “Sit on my cock and ride me like what you do to your toys. I bet they won’t even compare to mine, huh?”

You gulp before climbing on top of him again. Satoru uses his hand to snake down his head as a pillow while his other hand holds your hips. Positioning yourself on top of him, your hand holds the base of his cock while the other is clinging on the head rest of the couch to support yourself.

You lower yourself down on Satoru’s cock and you couldn’t help but whimper and bite your lips when the tip of his cock finally went inside you. His cock is far more thicker than any of your toys that it has your legs quivering and shaking yet you still continued to lower yourself, taking all of him inside you.

When you stopped, Satoru looks up at you.

“Why’d you stop? You’re not even half way there.”

“What?” you whimper. “Is it t-that big?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “It’s that big.”

Without answering, you continue to lower yourself. Satoru is staring at how your pussy is taking him all in and how you’re struggling to. You’ve done this numerous times on your toys before but riding a real cock—his cock—is far different from that feeling, mainly because Satoru is big.

“It’s so—ah—so deep, Satoru. I don’t think I can—can’t take more.” you whimper.

“But it’s all inside you now,” he smiles. “Ah, fuck. You feel so good.”

To ease the feeling, Satoru lets you cockwarm him while his thumb rub circles on your sensitive clit. When you finally feel at ease and ready to ride him, Satoru places his hand on your hips to keep you in place as you bounce up and down on his cock.

The squelching noises every time his balls meets your skin fills the air of your apartment once again, accompanied by your loud moans and Satoru’s groans.

You can feel the tip of Satoru’s cock hitting the sweet spot of yours that has you clenching around him and every time you look down at the lewd sight below you, you can see a bulge forming on your lower stomach whenever you sink yourself down on Satoru’s cock. Although you seem to be fine riding him and taking all of his cock, you couldn’t look at him straight in the eyes and you even use your hand to cover the lower half of your face since his cerulean eyes are staring right at you.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, slut. You’re riding my cock and yet you still have the nerve to be shy? C’mon, don’t hide yourself,” Satoru grins when he grips both of your hips and lowers you down.

“Ah! Satoru! What are you—ah!”

You couldn’t seem to think straight when he took the initiative to guide you on his cock in a fast and rough pace. Every time he sinks your body down his cock, his hips would thrust up and meet your movement, making the lewd noises even more louder and harder than before.

“Ngh! Fuck, ‘Toru! It’s so deep! So good!”

“Yeah? It’s better than riding those plastic cocks you own, huh?” he chuckles, followed by a moan. “God, you feel so fucking good. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“‘m gonna—gonna cum, Satoru! ‘m so close! So close!”

“Do it. Cum on my cock.”

With that, your orgasm rip through you once more. Your legs quiver on top of Satoru and your chest making rapid up and down motions, letting you catch your breath while you half-lidded eyes try to open despite being fucked out after releasing another intense orgasm, but this time, on Satoru’s cock.

When you decided to get off Satoru’s still hard cock, he tells you to—

“Bend over the couch.”

And who were you to disobey?

Satoru positions your upper body to bend over the arm rest of the couch, placing a hand wrapped around the back of your neck. Wasting no time, Satoru plunges his cock inside of you again, making you let out a muffled whine.

This time, Satoru didn’t let you relax on his cock and continues to pump inside you in a fast pace. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts in and out of you. His gaze his on the lewd sight of your pussy taking him all in, observing the white ring around his cock.

Who knew he’d be fucking the smartest and shyest girl in his literature class? Who fucking knew that that shy and quiet girl is secretly a horny slut who is begging for him to fuck her harder until she can’t think?

“Oh, fuck! Satoru! Yesyesyes! Fuck me harder, please!”

“Easy.” he mumbles before fucking into you so deep that it reaches your cervix, making you grip the sheets of the couch and whine so loud that you’re sure that everyone in your apartment building heard how you’re being fucked so good.

As Satoru keeps his rough and fast pace consistent, you couldn’t seem to let out coherent words anymore and your eyes are now teary from the pleasure that Satoru is giving you. Your toes are curling and your hands are gripping the sheets as you feel yourself releasing another intense orgasm out of you.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum—gonna cum! ‘m close, Toru! Satoru! Fuck!”

“Yeah, cum on my cock again! Oh, god. Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!

Satoru quickly pulls out of you before he can release. His hand pumps his cock, releasing his cum on your back while your thighs are now soaked with your juices that drips down your legs. The two of you catch your breath but Satoru pulls you in to kiss you.

“You just proved me right, sweetheart,” he mumbles in between your kisses. “Now let’s work on that essay, yeah?” he pulls away and smiles, as if he didn’t just fucked the words and ideas out of you.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader

10K notes · View notes

enwoso · 3 months ago

Note

i have a request for awfc x teen reader

basically reader is quite a shy and anxious person who hates getting in trouble so they never speak up and always do as they’re told, even if it negatively impacts impacts them in some way e.g. helping clear up at the end of training even if it means they miss their bus home and have to walk. r also doesn’t talk much and therefore hasn’t made any friends on the team as they’re so shy. one of the older players (maybe kim or viv?) notice this and take reader under their wing to try and bring them out of their shell. basically just a very cute fluffy fic

YOUR NOT ALONE — arsenal wfc

i feel like this doesn’t really flow the way i wanted it to so soz if it’s choppy but enjoy!

masterlist

north london was were you lived, but it wasn’t home. home was in the north, nearly four hours away from london in manchester. that was home.

not london where you didn’t know anyone, where you were all alone at a new team.

and it wasn’t that you disliked north london, the people were actually quite nice and some days it was actually a lot warmer than living in the north. but nothing compared to being home in manchester. where your friends were, your family, your childhood club.

you in some way felt like you had been abandoned, you’d been let to go by man city your childhood club. a club you thought you’d be at until you retired but they didn’t even fight for you when arsenal put the deal in, they let you go as if you meant nothing to the club.

meaning when your first day at arsenal came around, you closed yourself off to everyone. you were already a pretty shy person to begin with but now trying to talk to you was like trying to draw blood out of a stone — impossible.

you kept yourself to yourself, and made sure you stayed out of trouble. helping the coaches tidy up after training even though it meant you missed the last bus that went past your apartment which would mean you would have to do the thirty minute walk back.

you would stay and watch were you could improve your game even though it meant you were pushing your self far too hard and then getting frustrated when you didn’t see the progress you wanted to see.

the team had began to notice your behaviour and had tried their best to involve you in everything possible but you were having none of it.

the most any of the girls had heard you talk was a light hum just acknowledge the person so it didn’t seem like you were being rude.

“we need y/n to be fully apart of the team as i think she feels like she is still and outsider” kim said thinking out loud as they watched you help the coaches pack up for the evening. picking up the coloured cones as you hummed on to whatever the coach was saying. you weren’t much of a talker.

“does she always do that?” leah asked as she looked towards kim and beth who nodded.

“she always offers, just like she always offers to fill everyone’s waters and other little things around the facility’s it’s like she does it just so she can avoid us” beth raised her eyebrows as the three took another glance over to you.

“i’ve tried just talking to her but she not really full of words” kim sighs as leah nods she had tried too along with a few others but nobody could seem to get more than a hum or a small smile out of you.

“she’s just a kid, it’s gotta be hard for her getting let go by her childhood club like she meant nothing and then to be in a place miles from her family, it’s natural that she’s not gonna be comfortable around us” viv butted in after hearing the trio talk about you, a few sympathetic nods being done from the three.

viv had been amongst those who had tried to talk to you, she hadn’t gotten many words from you but instead of asking the usual questions of how you finding london which made you want to scream every single time someone asked you as you had run out of ways to lie and say you were loving it.

instead viv asked about you wanting to know you on a personal level not just on the outside and what would be the obvious to ask.

“like leah cmon imagine how heartbroken you’d be if arsenal let you go after being here for so many years-“ viv pointed out as leah hummed feeling her heart pang a little. her blood was arsenal and she doesn’t think her heart would be able to handle if she was playing for another team.

“okay first of don’t put that in the open, but i can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling” a sad smile rushed over leah’s features as viv nodded.

“exactly”

“why don’t you take her under your wing vivvy, she’s said in countless interviews that she looks up to you. so i’m sure if there’s anyone who would be able to crack her shell it would be you-“ beth put the idea into the open, now viv wasn’t opposed to the idea but she also didn’t want to overwhelm you cause that could push you further from the team.

“i’ll try”

the next day had came and gone, viv had been watching you throughout the day trying to pick the best time to chat to you but a good time never seem to come around. viv telling herself tomorrow she would do it

viv had stayed late to chat with the physio about her knee, the rest of the team long gone as training had finished already. well so she thought.

“hey kleintje what you doing here so late? training finished an hour ago?” viv asked as you looked up from your phone, you were watching your few minutes from the last match you played. analysing each pass, each touch, each movement to see what you could work on next.

“missed my bus” you mumbled very quietly viv almost missed what you said. viv nodded to herself as she took a seat next to you on the bench peering over slightly at what you were concentrating so hard on.

“that’s a stupid thing to do” viv blurted out, immediately regretting it when your head snapped up with a puzzled look on your face, a frown flashing across your lips.

“well cause all you doing is focusing on the negatives” viv shrugged as you still held the same look on your face, “like don’t get me wrong it’s helpful but i bet you, you have twice as many negatives in your head than positive things you did in the match” viv continued as you slowly nodded, she wasn’t exactly wrong.

“but how will i know how to get better if i don’t focus on what needs to be improved?” you asked quietly, your phone falling into your lap. viv was a little shocked, not by the question but by the fact that you hadn’t just hummed at her.

“cause you end up focusing on trying to get the bad better that the what was good starts to get bad and you enter a cycle that you can’t get out of” viv explains as you do your signature hum, you weren’t just thinking about football now.

you were thinking about how your life had changed in the past months and how much you had focused on the bad and never gave it a second thought about what was good.

“so your saying i should focus on the positives?” you trailed off staring into the distance in front of you as viv nodded, not that you saw it.

“yeah, your not alone y/n. we’re a team. we’re here to help you” viv pointed out, “and that’s not just with your football skills either” she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers a smile tugged at your lips nodding alone to what viv was telling you.

“thanks viv” you smiled sincerely, you felt as though your eyes had really been opened and you hadn’t have your self a chance at your new chapter, you hadn’t gave london a chance yet.

“no problem kleintje, now come on let’s get you home. it’s getting late”

it had been a few weeks since the conversation between kim, leah, beth and viv and progress had definitely been made. viv had managed to take you under her wing, showing you the ropes introducing you slowly to others so that it didn’t overwhelm you.

you had started to come out your shell more, you didn’t sit by yourself anymore at lunch or on the bus.

instead you’d found yourself sitting steph and kyra for lunch as you discussed your dream holiday of one day going to australia as they gave you recommendations as well as promising that when you do finally go they will happily be your tour guides.

and on the bus during away day you’d found yourself sitting with lotte quite a few times, the way she spoke was similar to viv it was wise words and someone you could listen to for a while as well as lotte being able to sit and listen to you and give you good advice if you truly needed it.

it was game day today, as you walked into the ground with viv. having gotten a ride from viv and beth to save you from having to get the bus. beth had spotted steph and leah in front, running off towards them.

“so do you think london could start to be home?” viv asked, her heart beating a little harder as she asked the question. the topic of london being your home still being very raw.

“it’s becoming home, it’s not quite there yet-“ you paused as some worry came over viv as she began to stutter.

“-but i think it will be home” you finished with a smile as you looked up at viv a sigh of relief coming over her as she swung her arm around your shoulder pulling you in a little tighter for a side hug.

“kleintje you had me worried for a minute but i’m glad your starting to feel more comfortable here, just remember your not alone. we’re a team for a reason” viv nudged you as you nodded taking in every word viv told you as you walked into the stadium.

“got it”

“anyways are you excited about your first start? imagine you score-“ viv said with a hopeful look as you slightly shook your head. you were happy about the start but scoring wasn’t the main focus of today. you were just happy to be getting minutes instead of the scrappy ten final minutes you were used to at the moment.

“excited, nervous? the goal won’t happen though so don’t get you hopes up” you dismissed as viv rolled her eyes playfully opening a door for you to go through.

“gotta have the belief kleintje!”

and maybe somewhere you had some belief cause that’s exactly what happened. you scored your first goal for arsenal, when the ball hit the net you froze. you were expecting for it to go over but when it didn’t you didn’t know what to do.

reality was brought back to you when you were surrounded by your teammates who were lifting you up in a circle as the crowd cheered. a big smile on your face as you looked around spotting vividly on the bench and sending her a knowing look as you tapped the your chest where the arsenal badge was. viv giving you a knowing nod that she understood.

your teammates lifted you down back onto the ground as they all patted you on the back or the head as you soaked up the moment a little longer walking back to your starting position.

“we’re so proud of you, our superstar!”

“get in y/n”

looking around and seeing the fans chanting and having a good time it felt for the first time since you made the big move you felt like you weren’t alone, these people that you were lucky enough to call your teammates and friends were your new family.

and maybe just maybe arsenal and north london was your new home and you weren’t mad at the idea.

in fact you loved the idea.

yourusername

liked by bethmead and 629,015 others

yourusername forever grateful for my found family❤️🤍

comments

viviannemiedema we love you kleintje!!

leahwilliamson our superstar ⭐️

kyracooneycross yeahhh for our very own 🌟

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #arsenal #viv miedema #beth mead #kim little #leah williamson #kyra cooney cross #lotte wubben moy #steph catley #enwoso

462 notes · View notes

stevieschrodinger · 7 months ago

Text

Part One Two four

A small note: if you would like to be added to the tagging list please ask in a reply to the post, I won't check elsewhere.

Eddie’s sitting on the couch. He’s staring into space, a couch cushion clutched tight to his chest.

Steve creeps in after Robin, hears her say, “Eddie?” softly, presumably so she doesn’t startle him.

He’s sitting in the dark, and they both just leave it that way. Probably an unspoken understanding that they don’t want to unsettle Eddie.

They sit down either side of him, Robin rubbing at his back. Steve keeps his hands to himself, not sure what will be welcome, and even less sure what the fuck he should say. Robin’s just better at this sort of stuff than Steve, maybe because she’s a girl or whatever, but she definitely has the emotional intelligence half of the brain.

Steve doesn’t know if there’s anything he even can say in a situation like this.

Eddie’s eyes are red and his face is wet, and he doesn’t move or look at either of them.

Eventually, Robin speaks gently, “Eddie, we can’t stay here.”

Steve figures whoever did live here probably cleared out when everything went to shit. He’s kind of glad; has no fucking idea how he’d explain away Eddie Munson, possible cult leader and serial killer, breaking into their house.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie’s going to say anything, but he does, after a minute, he nods, and says in a croaky voice, “I want to see Wayne.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robin agrees quickly, “we can do that, right Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, trying to sound sure and confident with that, when Eddie flinches. Visibly flinches. Turning away, shuffling closer to Robin’s end of the couch. And, okay.

Robin looks at him over Eddie’s head. Steve shrugs. Robin shrugs back. No idea.

Steve carefully, making no quick movements, moves his hand in front of his mouth, mimes using the walkie. Robin nods.

Steve jogs out to the car, walkie’s everyone real quick so they can stop looking. The others have already woken Wayne up, discovered that Eddie wasn’t there, and then gone looking for Eddie, so they’re going to head back there and wait for Steve and Robin to bring Eddie over. Explain to Wayne that Eddie’s safe so they don’t leave him worrying in the meantime.

Steve creeps back in, hoping Robs has made some progress getting Eddie moving. She hasn’t, and Steve peeks around the corner, listening. Robin is still rubbing at Eddie’s back, but he’s talking, “didn’t make any sense to come here. It’s all wrong. It all looks wrong it’s...not how we had it. Our stuffs not here,” Eddie sniffs, his voice breaking, “I thought I’d find them here.”

And then Eddie is sobbing, face buried into the cushion, sobbing so hard his whole body is hitching. He’s making noises that tear at Steve, it’s one of the worst things Steve has ever seen, such an outpouring of grief. Eddie’s so loud with it, almost wailing, barely able to breathe his chest is so wracked with it.

Steve feels absolutely useless, but Robin’s looking for him over the back of the couch, and as soon as he sees her his feet carry him over. Robin’s crying too. Steve’s pretty sure his own eyes are wet. It’s just so awful to watch. So painful, Eddie’s grief.

Steve realizes now, why Robin was so horrified. The truth of it finally sinking in now he sees the evidence of it. Eddie loved them, loved them so much that loosing them is breaking him.

Steve sits back on the couch, Eddie looking up for a second when he feels the couch dip, and suddenly he’s thrown himself at Steve, still shaking with those heaving sobs as Steve reflexively wraps his arms around him. It hurts like fuck on Steve’s broken ribs, but Steve bites it back, like fuck is reminding Eddie of that right now.

“I shouldn't have come here,” Eddie chokes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s making Steve’s neck wet, and his great heaving sobs make Steve arms hitch along with them. Over the fluff of Eddie’s hair, Steve sees it as Rob starts crying fully, wiping at her nose with her sleeve, her face crumpling with it.

Steve swallows thickly, trying to hold it together but knowing he’s loosing it, and he rubs at Eddie's back, telling him, "it's okay, it'll be okay," even though Steve has no idea if it is or even if it ever will be.

It feels like a small eternity before Eddie sits up and finally moves. He doesn’t look at Steve, has his eyes squeezed shut as he scrubs at his face, and when Steve reaches for him, he flinches so hard he almost falls off the couch.

Rob is there for him then, telling him, “easy, easy,” and getting Eddie up and walking him to the car, Eddie half leaning on her.

Eddie’s opening the car door before Steve even fully stops, high tailing it away like his ass is on fire. Wayne is there in the doorway of the motel room.

Easy enough to find, it’s the only motel in Hawkins, and Jon’s car is parked outside the right room.

Wayne opens the door as Steve kills the engine, and Steve watches in the dim light as Eddie practically throws himself at Wayne. He’s sobbing again, Steve can hear it.

Steve’s only half out the car, but Nancy’s there, shaking her head, “we should leave them to it.”

They’re not going to go back to sleep, but they go through the motions anyway. Steve has a shower, really feels like he needs it. He takes a few minutes extra in there, scrubbing at his face and washing his hair, being very careful of his stitches. He gets changed into sleep pants after, and a loose tee shirt, lying in bed. Even if he just lies here, at least it’s rest of some kind. The sun will be up in an hour away, and the kids had said something about helping out at the sports hall, making sandwiches and putting together bundles of emergency supplies and stuff like that.

Steve said he’d drive them.

“Come on Dingus, I can hear you thinking about it.”

“He wouldn’t even look at me, and he flinched Rob, did you see that? And then…” it just doesn’t make any sense.

“Yeah, I did but...out of all of us, you’re the one he hurt the worst. Like, way the worst. He nearly killed you, Steve. Like, literally, if Eddie had taken another ten seconds to wake up, you would have been lights out. Maybe he remembers.”

That does make sense, Steve hums in agreement, that’s got to be hard for him, “yeah.”

“Maybe it’s hard for him to see you because...well. That’s got to be a shitty memory. Plus, trauma does funny things, what if he remembers you fighting back, you know?”

And that’s true, Steve did land one good hit on Eddie with his bat, more reflexive than anything. Before Eddie had taken the thing right out of Steve’s hands and snapped it like it was nothing, that is.

So yeah, maybe, Steve figures, “he was saying sorry.”

Robin hums again.

Steve’s ribs are healed up, his stitches long gone, all his bruises and scrapes are gone. The town is, kind of, back on it’s feet. Sure, there’s probably an abnormally high number of for sale signs in Hawkins, but everyone who was going to come back has done. Enough that Steve’s got part time shifts at the video store, at least. Mostly to keep up appearances; now that it’s all over, Owen’s got them all a pay out. Essentially for damages and trauma or whatever, but also with a very clear ‘keep your mouths shut’ attached to it.

For that first month, Eddie pretty much only speaks to Dustin. He stays with Wayne, and once every couple of days he lets Dustin know that he’s okay. The message Dustin brings back is the same every time, “he’s okay, he just needs some time.”

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @darkwitchoferie @weirdandabsurd42 @zoeweee @thennic @xiaq @tinyplanet95 @steddieyourself @chrystal-lovee @futuristicunknown86 @grtwdsmwhr @mugloversonly @wonderland-girl143-blog

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #pre steddie #the party #my writing #steddie dreamed life

602 notes · View notes

essentiallyleaf · 1 year ago

Text

day 09. belly bulge kink. with. wonyoung.

1438 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, dom reader, sub/bratty Wonyoung, belly bulge kink, or whatever the kink name is for seeing your own dick through her abs, deepthroating, squirting, pet names, relationships are hard, you won’t take my beloved parentheses off of me and there is no argument to be made about that, the punctuation is… interesting, i actually wanted to use the word thrussy, should i have?, you can actually pinpoint the second when writer gets tired.

notes.

would’ve dedicated this to @kaedespicelatte, but the kid hasn’t been behaving. cheatingly, leaf.

“You sure you won’t be cold?”

“Mm-hmm~”

She’s just such a tease. Because when she leaves the house with an outfit that exposes her belly button for the third straight day, it’s not a coincidence anymore. It’s an act of defiance. And it’s not like you need to tell her what you like about her, what you’d like to do to her. She knows. She sees you ogling at her when she goes out, and more importantly, she sees you looking sideways at her when she comes back home from fansigns with a flower bouquet in hand. She knows.

It’s just a fan. They see her once and fall in love, then forget about her in two months’ time and pick the next plastic girl to play pretend with. Kind of a cruel routine. You just can’t see her as that, ever. To you, she’s the girl that asks you to brush her hair and help her wear her sky blue princess dress and crown on her birthday. That’s not for show. That’s Wonyoung doing what she loves.

It wasn’t exactly clear-cut, between the two of you. The, lines of your relationship, that is, they weren’t exactly drawn. She was a friend, a close one, who one day in front of a cup of, some latte you don’t remember, went “Wouldn’t it be nice if we moved in together?" and then you did. She worked, you worked (at a high-end clothing shop, where you get to see the worst of spoiled people that have never seen struggle, but at least the work schedule was regular and the pay was decent), sometimes she came home tired and needed cuddles, almost every morning you made breakfast for her (she likes your blueberry waffles the best), once she joked “Isn’t this basically what couples do?” and with the unserious teasing tone you love about her, she started calling you baby. Then with the cuddles came little pecks, more daring hands; she was suddenly and inexplicably more scared of thunderstorms, and when she woke up next to you, she asked you to spoon her for a little while before going to work. One day of summer you slept in boxers and a tank top and she in her short pajama, one of you started rocking their hips while spooning, and the other followed. You both came on each other’s hands before 7.30. You’d have a lot to think about that day at work, but at least you’d be on time.

It turned out fine between the two of you. She was okay with it, you were okay with it; the thing is, both of you were kind of tap-dancing around the conversation.

Now her bed is always made, she takes her showers with you (and well, you know), and the pet names roll off the tongue much better. But your relationship is not exactly a straight railroad leading to town, more like some kind of meadow, an open space where to, go around and explore. No questions, just… no questions.

“Don’t come back too late tonight”

“Okay babyseeyoulaterbyeee!”

That’s the other thing about her. Wonyoung is your cuddle bear, but that teasing tone seems to always be there. It’s like she knows you need her in your arms (or around your dick, that also works), but she wants you to earn it. It’s a challenge, that much you’re certain about, so you take on it. A fair response to an unjustified provocation. You’re simply taking what’s already yours.

She comes back as the sun is still up, that night; baby knows how to behave. She says she’s not hungry yet - you thought she’d been hungry for three days straight. Well if she’s not, you’ll make her.

You start making out with her while she’s still in the hallway like almost every night by now.

“You want to just lay on the bed, then?”

“Only if you join~”

“Wanna take some of those clothes off? I turned the heater up”

You say some, you really mean all. Wonyoung knows, and won’t make you ask twice. Actually, that’s when the other side of her kicks in.

“I thought you were worried I’d be cold~”

She still doesn't make you ask twice.

You get down to your underwear with her, but you don’t lie down with her, you just tell her to lay face up and feet away from you, then guide her towards you so her head is dangling off the edge. She knows where this is going. She looks up at you with an upside-down smirk. Her fucking lips. You need them around you.

So, drop your boxers and place your half-limp cock on them, rubbing yourself on her face. She pulls her tongue out and uses it like it’s second nature, licking and spreading saliva all around your head, your shaft, and your balls as you hover them over her opening. As soon as you’re fully hard and lubricated, you put your tip (together with a good fourth of your length, to be fair) into her mouth. She can take you, she’s done this before, just never in this position. So you offer her all the time she needs.

As you slowly push further and further into her throat, you see it swell slightly and wrap a hand around the back of her head while throwing your own back in pleasure. No. You need to see. You’re almost fully in, and her neck is molding around your girth like never before.

“You’re doing a great job, baby. Just a little bit more”

She really is. She keeps breathing at a steady pace through her nose, unusually relaxed despite the situation. When you bottom out, she only notices because you stop moving. You stay in position for a few seconds, then almost as slowly (she always seems so fragile, like you’re on the verge of breaking her; so you always make sure to handle her with care) you pull out of her. You caress her cheeks dotingly.

“Are you okay, princess?”

That’s the pet name you used to call her on her birthday and on her birthday only. Now, it’s for any special day, and today, Wonyoung is behaving herself.

She nods really fast while smiling upside-down, she has a lot of saliva built up in her mouth and some on the corners of it.

“Can I go in again?”

“Mm-hmm~”

This time it’s all much faster. You push yourself into her in one go and immediately start pumping. Her throat inflates and deflates at each passage as you close your eyes, lost in pleasure. One of her hands reaches down to her gray panties (a little wet spot is already there) and starts rubbing, the other feeling her own abs. Your quick thrusts are now drawing high-pitched moans out of her.

You open your eyes again, and stop thrusting.

“Who said you could touch yourself, baby?”

Not a princess this time. She can’t answer, she still has your wood in her throat. But even if she could, she’d still be left speechless.

So you simply remove your shaft from her mouth, spin her body around 180 degrees and pull her hips towards you on the edge of the bed. You take her panties off, and see her glistening, gorgeous slit. You don’t give her that, though, not yet. Palm her abs, from top to bottom and back up. Live by the tum, die by the tum. She’s just whimpering, waiting, begging for you to touch her pussy. You won’t touch her, you’ll ravage her.

Guide your now monstrous looking dick with your hand to her tiny lips and split them apart. Your girth plunges into her extreme tightness as both of you watch, between surprise and arousal, her belly bulge in the shape of your cock. That simply encourages you to thrust quicker and more powerfully, making your girl whine loudly. Your right hand instinctively reaches for her still bra-clad cute titties and fondles them alternately. You wreck, shuffle, and re-shape her insides as your eyes stare at her tummy inflating and deflating hypnotized.

So hypnotized that it’s only her scream that, announcing her orgasm, takes you out of your trance. Wonyoung repeatedly contracts around you, squirting transparent liquid that pressures your dick out of her. It only takes two more strokes for you to hit your own peak and release seemingly endless spurts of white nectar onto her beautiful abdomen. A whole minute is filled only with pants for air.

“Baby, I’m cold”

“I told you you would be. Come here,” you invite her to be your little spoon. “Princess”

footnotes.

a bit of a return to form, i'd like to think. but no, probably just about average. classicly, leaf.

2K notes · View notes

vrisrezis · 1 year ago

Text

Love triangle?? With atsv characters

Basically a love triangle between them, their spider alter ego and you … ?

Gwen has been longtime best friends with you and Peter for what feels like forever. Even after peters passing, you and Gwen remained close. Throughout the years, it was only natural for gwen to fall for you, her best friend. Peter had often encouraged her to try and go for it, but she never gave in to the temptation. Not when she has been lying to you for so long about who she really was. While her dad did often speak his mind on the mysterious spiderwoman and his doubts, you always seemed excited talking about her. It didn’t take long for her to find out you were not only a huge fan, but definitely had a bit of a crush.

This was amusing to her, obviously. But it also made her wonder if you felt nothing for the real her, and you just liked some alter ego of hers because she was cool and saved the day or whatever.

How you and spiderwoman met, was not under the best of circumstances. As you can imagine.

Growing up, you were always pretty tough. Fighting for and defending Peter against bullies, it was what drawn gwen to you right away. You always stood up for others, and perhaps in the real world it’d get you in more trouble, trying to help a defenses old man against some mugger, you nearly got real hurt in the process. Thankfully, your celebrity crush was there to web him up.

She remembers the look you gave her, you were so.. awestruck.

You never looked at her like that. Not the real her, anyway.

“Thank you spiderwoman!” you say with glee, a word she would almost never use to describe you.

She clears her throat, seeming off guard by the way you greeted her. Or perhaps she was caught off guard by how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. Is it hot outside or is it just her suit?

“Uh… uh…” she hesitates for a moment, before displaying faux confidence. She nods in understanding, “anytime, hopefully next time I’ll see you under better circumstances, cutie.” she says with a wink, before swinging away.

There’s practically hearts in your eyes, did spider woman… just flirt with you?!

Meanwhile, gwen is freaking the hell out over the fact she just said that. It’s certainly easier to flirt under the mask, she supposes.

You didn’t shut up about spiderwoman for the next week.

Miles was one of your best friends, had been for over a year now. Although this friendship, to many seemed newly found, to you both it felt like you knew eachother forever. You often ignored how Ganke never failed to mention that’s something people in love say about eachother.

Ganke was a close friend to the both of you. He was also very much aware of how miles was keeping this huge secret from you, and he often relayed to miles how he should just tell you already. Miles said no, everytime. So ganke had to resort to desperate measures, on one of your many hangouts with the two males.

“Hey, I’m curious.” Ganke starts, “what do you think of Spiderman?”

Miles nearly chokes, he looks wide eyed at ganke, as if ganke just killed a cat. Honestly, ganke is surprised miles hadn’t brought up Spiderman to you himself before, but honestly miles was terrified of what you actually thought, to the point he didn’t want it mentioned at all in front of you.

But your immediate grin makes miles almost audibly sigh.

“I think he’s awesome! Way cooler than the other one to be honest like wow have you seen that suit? Nice color.” Miles couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up in excitement. How come he hasn’t heard you talk about spiderman before if you liked him so much?

“Hey, miles?”

“Huh?!” he yells, his voice becoming so high pitched it sounded like he was just hitting puberty, making you laugh.

“I- I mean.. yeah… what’s up?”

“Do you think he’s … cute?” you ask, rather curious what miles thinks of spiderman.

Ganke almost laughs at how wide miles eyes are, somehow even wider than before.

You would eventually have the chance to meet spiderman, which was not something miles would be happy about. A fight with a particularly … tough villain had caused much damage to the city. Miles swears, today he had to pull up at least 3 buses by his webs.

However, the bus you were in, as plain as day. He couldn’t see anyone but you, the other people in the bus being a blur to him.

He was scared, so so so scared. The moment you’re out and safe, he wants to hug you. He almost does, but he’s able to restrain himself once he feels gwen tug his arm, warning him of how weird that’d be.

He sighs, but he sees you smile at him, grateful. He’s blissfully unaware of how hot your cheeks are, seeing him in the flesh, in person.

You wonder if he’d be okay with signing an autograph.

Hobie was never the type for being subtle. He was blunt, but because of his casualness about it people do not take what he says seriously. He didn’t plan on making a strong effort to hide being spiderman from you. Because he trusts you, with his life in fact.

You two have fought together on many different occasions, way before he became spiderman. People didn’t like either of you, when you were young at least. Strong and unafraid, and like him, you often spoke your mind about things. Granted, you were a lot nicer about it but still. It’s something he definitely likes about you. To him, falling for you just felt natural. Like it was meant to happen. Like falling for you was second nature.

But over his time of becoming spiderman, he had … well… found out you had a major crush on his alter ego. You did not shut up about how “babygirl” he was. And while this was amusing at first, it annoyed him a little. Did that mean you weren’t interested in him, as hobie, romantically? And if you did find out who he really was, would you still like spiderman? Or would it ruin the imagination for you? And if you did, would it only be because he’s spiderman?

A lot of questions circle his mind, a lot of worry and it isn’t like him. He really hates it. Only you can manage to do that to him.

Eventually, the two of you do end up meeting.

You were known for being a fighter, laws or not, you didn’t care, maybe a bit headstrong in your beliefs. Maybe you got too caught up in things, as you often did. Difference was, hobie was not there to back you up. As he often was.

Not this time though, as apparently Hobie had some unfinished business to deal with. You had no idea what that meant, but you trusted hobie enough that he wouldn’t go off doing something stupid without you.

You were not hobie however, and did something stupid without him.

While yes, the guy had harassed you first and you had every right to be angry with him, you probably shouldn’t have provoked such a big and muscular looking guy. There’s no way you could take him in a fight, but you could always try.

Before you even had the gall to fight this guy, before he can even pull the first punch, webs are shot his way. You gasp in surprise, turning behind you to see the one and only.

His movements are quick, and honestly, spiderman struggles for a little.

If even he struggled during that fight, you didn’t stand a chance. But you’re too busy absolutely fangirl/boy/theythem’ing to even care.

Once everything was said and done, Spiderman turned around to take a look at you. He was relieved you weren’t banged up or anything, though you couldn’t tell. “You aight?” he asked, and typically he was so cool and collected, but around you he had no idea how he should be acting. Thoughts from before still clouding his mind:

He lets them go for a moment upon your excited squeal and has to hold himself back from laughing.

Pavitr mentioned spiderman quite a bit, and very early on when he first became the masked vigilante. He was quick to gauge your opinions, because in his mind you’re thoughts and feelings matter the most to him.

He would quickly learn you loved the guy, so he proudly continued doing the whole superhero thing. However, as time went by he had seen your admiration for Spiderman develop into a crush. Only upon your first meeting with him, though. He couldn’t blame you, he supposed that in your eyes this guy saved your life from imminent peril. In his eyes, he was just doing something that was common sense. Saving you while you were trapped in that bus was not something he needed to think twice about.

And he certainly didn’t think twice about hugging you, either. Despite you two not really being acquainted with one another. He was quick to come to his senses, about to pull away, but you held on. And he realized you needed this hug as much as he did. He combs his fingers through your hair, as if second nature. Just like he normally did, and he was the only one that ever did that. You didn’t seem to catch on in that state, but little did he know how grateful you were towards him. He could only imagine, but it was a fraction to how you truly felt.

“Thank you, spiderman.” You say with such softness in your voice, he’s never heard it from you before.

And from that point on, he did not stop hearing you gush about the arachnid. While he often laughed this off, he wondered if that meant things would be weird between you two if he told you the truth.

#spiderman x reader #spiderman india x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderwoman x reader #spidergwen x reader #gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #atsv x reader

2K notes · View notes

papipedroo · 1 year ago

Text

Whiskey Tears (Joel Miller x Reader)

Rated: Angst | Violence | Fluff | Age Gap

Summary: You, Joel, and Ellie have been a trio from the start. You were a family, but you find your relationship with Joel withering when he starts to pull away. Now a new comer makes her way into Jackson and into Joel’s heart…

3 months living in Jackson

You were content to say the least. No run in with raiders or evil things that go bump in the night. No sleeping outside. No clickers. No hunger.

To say the least you were happy for being in an apocalyptic world.

That and your little make shift family Joel and Ellie.

Ellie was to say your everything. Your ray of sunshine and a daughter that you would fight the world to keep safe. You both took to each other when you first met her as a firefly designated to escort her along with Joel and Tess to meet the others. You don’t know what was going to happen apart from Ellie being a cute and you still don’t know what happened at the hospital that day… You were immediately being transferred, sent on the road when suddenly Joel was driving past you with Ellie in the back. You don’t know why he stopped for you that day, but the three of you have been through a lot together and you’d put up your title as a firefly to be with them.

But now he has been gone for a week since he went out for patrol. You hadn’t been sleeping well, taking every chance you could to go out and look for him. Everyone could see the restlessness in your stance and the dark circles under your eyes.

You remember crying your worries to Maria after the fifth day of no sight of him.

“He hasn’t been gone this long and I don’t know what to do. I can’t loose him Maria, he is everything to me. He is everything to Ellie. We can’t loose him. I don’t know how to keep Ellie from crumbling when I can’t even keep myself together” You sobbed into her shirt.

“You keep telling her the truth and do what you always do, love and care for her. Just know that whatever happens, Tommy and I will always be here for you both.” She gently pet your hair until you finally calmed down enough to go home.

It was clear that you and Ellie weren’t taking his disappearance very well. Until today…

“Hey!”

You didn’t even get a chance to turn around before Ellie was tackling you into the snow. You coughed the little bit of snow out of your mouth as you took in a breath of air.

“Guess what?” Ellie asking as she sat up.

“You got taller? Because that tackled just took the life out of me.” You sighed as your head fell back into the snow.

The snow felt nice against your skin after a long day of rebuilding fences.

“A woman was found during patrol. I figured they’d shoot her but they brought her here. She’s at the bar with Tommy, Maria, and Joel.” Ellie explained, “Thought you might want to know.”

“Joel?” You sat up excitedly, “He’s back? Why didn’t you start with that? Is he okay? Is he hurt? What happened to him?”

Ellie nodded, “As far as I could tell he looks completely fine.”

Your brows furrowed, “Why is he there and not with us?”

Ellie shrugged, “I don’t know. Apparently he was the one that found the lady and that’s why he was gone for a week. Saved her from raiders or something.”

“That sounds reasonable enough...” You got up, and helped Ellie stand before you were both dusting off your clothes.

You were still unsure of the whole ordeal. Usually if Joel was gone for too long he would immediately find you both to let you know he was okay… Why wouldn’t he this time? Is it because of the woman he found?

She could be young or an elderly woman… You were hoping for the latter if you were being honest with yourself. Joel doesn’t usually help anyone and that struck an anxious nerve in you.

You and him weren’t together. No he made that very clear that night you drank too much whiskey and accidentally confessed your feelings to him… And then you finally got enough courage to kiss him and he kissed you back. The two of you found comfort in each others arms for months until that fateful day when he was stabbed…

Everything changed after that. Those late nights and brief touches ended horribly of course. As he suddenly became more open and caring towards Ellie, he was cold and closed off towards you.

That continued as the months went by until the three of you finally made it to Jackson where you would stay, but you were nothing more than friends possibly family to him… If you could call yourself that.

“Come on.” Ellie grabbed your hand before you could protest and began dragging you to the bar, “I caught a glimpse of her when they rode in. Dark curly hair, dark skin and green eyes. Oh! And a small scar on her neck, I wonder what that’s from? I got a scar once. It was from a bitch back at the QZ…” She began to go off topic as you neared the bar and that’s when the four of them stepped out and oh…

You stopped walking as your lips parted, “Oh.”

You weren’t sure what to say. She was absolutely gorgeous in your mind. Your eyes drifted down to where her hand was wrapped around Joel’s arm.

“That’s weird.” Ellie whispered as she stared at the two.

“Ah! There you two are. Come meet our newcomer, Heather.” Tommy waved the two of you over.

You walked over cautiously as Ellie bounded over to the group. Tommy introduced you both to Heather who waved with her free hand.

Why was she even holding onto him in the first place? Why was he allowing it?

You weren’t exactly paying attention to anything Tommy was saying, your gaze flickering between her hand around his arm and the way he seemed so relaxed.

“I think you’ll get along.” You heard Tommy say, “How old are you again Heather?”

“I’m 46.” Heather smiled.

46…

She was closer to Joel’s age than you were and while you didn’t care about the age gap between you and Joel before… You suddenly felt insecure.

Was that why he stopped touching me? Because of my age?

“Come on Ellie, let’s go show Heather the rest of the town.” Maria said and you watched as the four of them left.

You heart dropped watching the way Heather leaned up and kissed his cheek before she left.

“She kissed you.” You could feel anger rising in your chest, “Why did she kiss you Joel?”

“She didn’t- It’s not like that. She just feels comfortable, that’s all.” Joel sighed as if what just happened was normal.

“You don’t like kissing. You made that very clear.” You snapped as you crossed your arms.

“I don’t want to get into this right now.” Joel pinched the bride of his nose, “Look. She’s going to be staying with us until she settles in.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, “What?” Your voice raised, “You’re joking. Tell me you’re fucking joking Joel. A stranger is staying with us? Are you serious right now? How do you think Ellie and I are supposed to feel about this suddenly being thrown at us? You didn’t even try to find us and tell us you’re okay. We’ve been worried sick for a week Joel! A goddamn week! And here you are parading a girl you found like you’re about to get married. Like you forgot about Ellie and I.” You said with a slight bitterness in your tone, “Glad to see you’re okay by the way—”

“Would you just shut up!” Joel yelled and it was a tone you’ve only ever heard him use on people he didn’t like, “You’re acting like a child.”

It made you flinch back as you waited for him to continue.

“She’s been through a lot and she’s staying with me. That’s final. So get yourself into check and be nice to her.” He stated gruffly before leaving.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting as if the two of you haven’t been through hell. It didn’t go past you that he said me and not us either… You were here first and here you were getting replaced by a damsel in distress. You released a short angry yell before marching off into a different direction.

You found yourself at your secret spot in the small orchard here at Jackson. The apple tree that you planted in spring was barely a foot tall as you sat beside it. Your mom used to tell you how talking to plants helped them grow and it stuck with you even after her death. So you talked to your little tree.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of us. Why did he suddenly pull away from me? We were so happy and now… Now he’s caring for another girl.” I sighed in defeat, “You don’t think he likes her do you?”

You spent the rest of the day there until the sun was about to set. Only then did you make your way home, knowing what you were going to find.

“You’re back! You wouldn’t believe the audacity of Joel.” Ellie crashed into you and wrapped you in a hug.

“What happened?”You asked as you wrapped her in my arms.

You found quickly that when Ellie was feeling overwhelmed she would wrap her arms are your waist and bury her face into your shoulder.

“For starters, that lady is staying with us. She’s already making herself at home here. Oh and Joel gave her your room.” She said and your brows furrowed.

“He what?” You asked.

Why the hell would he give up your room?

“Said something about making sure she has her own space or whatever. I still don’t see why she can’t just stay somewhere else.” Ellie grumbled before the woman in question made herself known.

“Oh! You’re back.” She spoke cherrily causing you to grimace.

“I made us all dinner. I hope you don’t mind, it’s just been a long time since I cooked a decent meal.” She continued and whether she noticed the sour expression on your face, she didn’t mention it.

“Don’t ask me what she made. I don’t know. I probably won’t like it anyways.” Ellie spoke honestly.

“Well… I suppose let’s try and give her a chance… If Joel’s putting this much effort in making her feel welcomed then…” You gulped, “She must be important.”

The two of you walked into the dining room to find the table set and Joel already seated. Heather carried in a pot, the lid covering what was hiding inside. She set it down in the center of the table and lifted the lid to reveal roasted chicken with potatoes, steamed vegetables and pesto...

“I remember Joel telling me this was his favorite, I hope you all enjoy.” She said, her voice a bit too cheerful.

“Is that pesto?” I asked with uncertainty.

“It is!” She smiled.

“I… It doesn’t happen to have pine nuts in it does it?” You asked.

“It does… Why?” Her head tilted in confusion.

“I can’t eat this. I’m sorry.” You looked at the meal, “I’m deathly allergic to pine nuts…”

“Oh… I didn’t know.” She frowned.

“Joel knew.” You barely said over your breath as you glanced over to him.

“I forgot when I told her.” Was his easy reply.

I forgot he said… He forgot about an allergy that could quite literally kill me?

I didn’t mention it when I continued, “I thought your favorite meal was the hamburgers you used to make for—”

“It’s not.” He glared.

He never glared at you before and it stopped you from continuing your sentance.

“I can make you a sandwich.” Ellie said and it warmed your heart.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I’m fine.” You smiled at her before moving to your usual seat in defeat, the one next to Joel’s right.

Only Heather sat down in your seat instead.

You felt the hairs in your arms stand up as anger slowly bubbled in you. The first day she is here and she’s already taking over everything that’s yours.

“That’s my seat.” You said firmly.

“Excuse me?” She looked up at you with wide eyes, acting as if what you said made no sense.

“I always sit there.” You explained again, hoping she would just get up and move, but you didn’t have luck on your side. She sat firmly in place and made no effort to leave.

As you went to speak again, Joel cut you off with a tired look.

“It’s just a fucking seat. Don’t be a child and choose another one.” Joel sighed motioning to the other empty chairs.

Those words left a sinking feeling in your chest the sheer embarrassment you felt had your cheeks flush. You quickly made your way to the far end of the table and took a seat.

Ellie glared at Joel and muttered, “Asshole.” Before taking her seat next to you instead of on Joel’s left.

Heather served Joel and Ellie with a smile on her face and a content Joel watching her every move. It made you want to claw your eyes out. The room was filled with clinking silverware and Heather and Joel discussing the work she will be doing here in Jackson.

Ellie picked at her food with a frown on her face. Usually she would be talking to Joel and you about her adventures of the day especially with his week long disappearance. You could tell she was beginning to feel jealous.

“How was your day sweet pea?” You asked her and immediately saw the way her eyes lit up.

“Well I found out something crazy about how to change a horseshoe.” She said excitedly and a smile broke onto your face.

“Really now? Tell me more about it.” You said and the rest of dinner was filled with Ellie’s story about horseshoes.

When the three were finished eating, Heather looked over to Ellie.

“How was dinner?” She asked and waited for an answer.

Ellie shrugged, “Eh, not as good as mom’s.” She stated as she got up and left to put her plates into the sink.

Those words lifted your spirits and brought a small smile to your face.

“I thought it was really good Heather.” Joel said and you watched as Heather leaned down to kiss his cheek for the second time today.

You got up and left, not wanting to see anything else. Instead you made your way to the kitchen where Ellie was washing her dish. You decided on swiping an apple from the fruit bowl to suffice as your dinner for the night.

Heather soon popped her head in the kitchen with the rest of the dishes. She set them by the sink before announcing to the both of you that she was heading to bed.

“You should head to bed as well El’s. You have a big day taking care of the horses by yourself tomorrow.” You said as you took nudged her away from the sink, “Dont worry, I’ll finish up here.”

“But what about you? Where will you sleep? You can stay with me if you’d like, I don’t mind.” She said and you gave her a smile.

“I think I’ll take the couch tonight. I’d like to get in some reading and I might be up a while.” You said.

“Are you sure?” Ellie asked you one more time.

“Positive. Now head up to bed sweet pea. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You gave her a warm hug before she left.

You turned your attention back to the dishes and began to wash them in silence as you thought about where any extra blankets might be.

“I’m sorry I gave up your room.” Joel’s deep voice filtered through the cold air.

“You didn’t even ask me if that was okay.” You stated without looking back, “That is my room.”

“I know.” Joel nodded, “She was panicking on where she was going to stay and I wasn’t thinking when she asked.”

At least he acknowledged what he did was stupid.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you’ve been back, but we don’t admire it Joel.” You said, referring to you and Ellie.

You finished putting away the dishes and finally faced him. Even after being a complete ass, he was still handsome.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find extra blankets for the couch.” You stated bitterly as you walked by him.

He grabbed your arm before you could leave, “You’re staying in my room tonight. I’ll stay on the couch.”

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch Joel. You’ve been missing all week. You need a comfortable bed.” You sighed and tried to pull your arm away from him, but he wouldn’t budge.

“No.” His gruff voice had chills run up your arm.

You squinted at him before an idea popped into your mind.

“Fine.” You stated shortly before tugging him behind you to his room.

“What are you doing?” He asked you, but didn’t pull away.

“We’re sharing the bed.” You stated simply as you tugged him into his room.

When it dawned on him he finally released the grip on your arm and took a step back.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He said.

“Why?” You crossed my arms, “It’s not like we haven’t slept together before, in both senses.” You huffed and motioned to the bed, “We can share a fucking bed or do you think I’m going to kiss your cheek and cuddle up to you? Is that what you and Heather did to keep warm?”

“Shut up.” He snapped, but he couldn’t seem to make eye contact with you, choosing to stare at the wall instead of your sullen face, “I don’t think we should be doing this.” He continued, his voice more gentle this time as if he was trying to calm down a rabid wolf.

“Why?” You stepped towards him, “What is so wrong with me that we can’t even share a bed anymore?” You tried not to let your voice crack.

“It’s not right. What we did. It was because we were lonely. I’m 56 years old and you’re just kid. It was wrong—” He began to say but you cut him off angrily.

“I’m 27 years old. I’m not a fucking kid and you know that.” You glared, finally able to look into his deep brown eyes, “It wasn’t wrong either. Don’t say that. Not to me.”

“I don’t want to argue about this.” He shook his head, “I’m sleeping on the couch.” He stated firmly as he turned to leave.

He was halfway out the door when you spoke up with tears in your eyes, “I love you.”

“I know.” He said before he shut the door behind him.

Leaving you alone once again to take care of your tears and Joel left to tend to his glass of whiskey.

#dbf joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller angst #joel angst #pedro pascal #papi pedro #pedro x reader

930 notes · View notes

writeonwhiskey · 11 months ago

Text

the skz house: ch 5 (18+)

a/n: happy tuesday. hope you all had a great christmas or whatever holiday you celebrate. here is my gift to you!

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ read chapter four here ]

Chapter Five: Of Mirrors and Lessons

The entire ride back home, Chan keeps his hand on your thigh, sometimes resting, sometimes gently squeezing. You couldn’t possibly forget the fact that you’re sitting in a car with him, but his touch serves as a constant reminder that he’s there without feeling overbearing. It actually soothes you, which should be concerning. However, since it doesn’t seem like you’ll get any outright form of compassion from him, maybe you have to learn to appreciate these subtle gestures.

Back at the house you and Charlotte clean up the basement while the other girls work on dinner. You gather up the empty pizza boxes and paper cups into a large trash bag as she works on wiping down all the surfaces. You hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to her much prior to this, but you can tell she’s the quiet, introvert type.

When you ask, she tells you things with Han and Jeongin are going well. You hold in your surprise when she says Han hasn’t tried anything with her yet, but she and Jeongin had made out a few times—one of which you saw last night.

Her words make you curious what everyone else has been up to. You’ve only had one night with Hyunjin where all you did was kiss, but your two nights with Chan had been filled with far more intimate acts and barely any kissing. Were the others taking things just as slow?

You finish cleaning and hoist the trash bags up the stairs. Felix and Changbin spring up from their seats at the table when you two emerge from the basement. They take the bags from you and put them outside.

Hyunjin is the only one missing when it’s time to eat—he has an evening class tonight. Chan eats in the living room, watching a baseball game with Seungmin. You eat in the dining room next to Felix and even after you’ve cleared your plates, you continue talking to him. He shares information with you freely and it’s a bit of a relief. His minor is in Game Design and Development, his dad and Chan’s dad are extremely close, so they grew up together before venturing to the states. You’re invested in what he’s saying—you really are, but you keep catching yourself being distracted by the dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. They give him such a boyish charm, especially when he smiles, that’s directly contradicted by the amount of bass in his voice.

Your phone buzzes and you check it, seeing a text from Chan. A wave of nerves flow throw your body as you open it.

Chan

waiting for you

You put your phone face down on the table. You know what’s coming next. He told you this afternoon. You don’t know what to expect. You do at least know that you shouldn’t expect rose petals and candles for your first time with him. If there are candles, he would probably be using them to drip wax over you. You panic at the thought. You don’t know what he’s in to, but you’re learning. It’s not difficult to believe he may like some kinky stuff, though. For now, all you know for sure is that he likes to exercise his control over you.

You hate to keep thinking of your ex in uncertain moments like this, yet you can’t help it. You simply can’t imagine him speaking to you or treating you the way Chan does sexually and you just allowing it to happen. Chan has a specific presence or aura, if you will, that asserts dominance and you’re growing more and more attracted to it. No matter how much you want to resist.

You’re startled at the feel of a hand on your shoulder. You turn to look at Felix, his chestnut brown eyes pouring out concern.

“You alright?” He asks in his low voice.

“Yeah,” you reply with a light chuckle, not wanting to worry him. “I’m gonna head upstairs now.”

He squeezes your shoulder a few times and nods.

The walk upstairs feels like a death march. You’re moving slowly, trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever is to come.

Chan is sitting on the edge of his bed, facing you. You’re leaned against his dresser, naked after he asked you to remove your clothing. He still has his clothes on, which you can’t even think is unfair because what’s the point? Fairness doesn’t exist with him. You can’t even bring your arms up to cover yourself. So you stand there, watching him watch you, neither of you speaking.

You wonder what’s going through his head right now, because all you can think of is how much you want him to touch you, to cover your bare body with his. You don’t know if it’s right to yearn for him after how he’s treated you—or is that the very reason you do?

After what feels like slow, painstaking hours, he stands from the bed and walks to you. He places his hands on either side of you on the dresser, caging you in.

“Do you want me, y/n?” He finally breaks the silence, lowering his head to look you in the eyes.

What kind of question is that? You do, don’t you? You know he doesn’t mean in the way he’s had you the last couple of days, he means actually fucking you this time. But will he be rough? Will it be painful? Will you like it? Your sexual experience is rather vanilla, so the thought is just as thrilling as it is frightening. What if it’s bad? What if it’s good?

You lick your lips and slowly nod your head.

He smiles down at you before moving forward to capture your lips with his. It’s a slow and passionate kiss. You tell yourself all his unspoken words are bottled up in it—that he doesn’t mean to make you feel awful, that he chose you for a reason.

“Take my shirt off,” he says when he pulls away from you.

Your grab the bottom of his shirt and lift it up and over his head. You drop it on top of your pile of clothes, never taking your eyes off him.

He takes each of your hands in his at the wrist and places your palms on his chest. He slowly guides them down his pectorals, his abs, all the way down the ‘V’ shape of his lower abdomen that leads into his loose fitting sweatpants. His skin is soft and the muscles beneath it feel solid against your fingertips.

He moves one hand lower than the other, to the waistband. You curl your fingers around it and he pulls your wrist back. He now pushes your other hand lower and you slip it into the sweats. All you feel is skin—he’s not wearing any boxers. He releases your wrists and puts his hands back on the dresser, swooping down to kiss you again as your fingers wrap around his already hard cock.

It feels good to have him back in your grasp. You stroke him as he deepens the kiss, his tongue snaking inside your mouth. You bring your other hand up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him harder against you. You can’t kid yourself—you want to give yourself to him. You want to know what it feels like to have him inside of you.

As if reading your thoughts, he breaks the kiss.

“Turn around,” he says.

You waste no time in doing as he bids.

You’re now facing the mirror attached to his dresser. His arms are still around either side of you, flexed and deliciously toned. He’s looking at you through the reflection. It’s the first time you’e seen yourself next to him. Your first instinct is to feel inferior, but with him this close, and you enclosed in his arms, you can convince yourself it feels and looks right.

He stands up straight and places his hands on your hips, squeezing them. His hands slide up and down your side in a way that tickles, causing you to move away from his touch. His lip quirks up at you through the mirror.

His hands cup your breasts and you watch your reflection. It almost feels as if you’re removed from the scene—watching for a separate type of pleasure. His gaze is fixed on your body as he plays with your nipples. You can’t help but move your hips back against him.

He pushes your breasts together with one hand as the other slips down to your pussy. You immediately move your feet a little further apart to which he chuckles.

“Chan,” you breathe as his hand finds its home between your thighs. “Be good to me tonight.”

Your words come out as a soft plea.

He responds by kissing you on the cheek as his fingers slowly slide back and forth across your pussy. You don’t know what to make of that response. He’s proven himself to be good at being a sour patch kid—sour then sweet. Or sweet then sour in his case, actually.

He pushes down his sweatpants and slowly lowers you down so your chest is pressed against the dresser. He takes a moment to admire his handy work from the night before, rubbing and squeezing your ass. You keep your eyes locked on his reflection, your breath fogging up the mirror now that you’re so close to it. His hand leaves your ass and moves to his cock, gripping it at the base as he slides it up and down your slit.

When he’s settled at your opening, his left hand grabs your hip, holding you in place. Your eyes are locked on each others as he slowly slides himself in. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, steal a moment for yourself to revel in the feel of him inside you. But you also want to remember how he looks right now. The way his lip is caught between his teeth, eyes filled with some kind of lust.

You watch his face intently. He averts his gaze and sucks in a breath as he watches his dick move in and out of you. One hand is still at your hip as the other uses your shoulder for leverage. You prop yourself up on your elbows and push your hips back to meet his thrusts. The side of his mouth quirks up at your movements.

You moan as he starts moving faster, dropping your head to the desk and squeezing your eyes shut.

He doesn’t like that.

You feel his hand move from your shoulder to the back of your head. He tangles his fingers in your hair and yanks your head up. Your eyes snap open just in time to see him leaning down towards you.

“Watch,” he whispers in your ear, “I want you to see how good you look when I fuck you.”

You moan again at his words, looking at yourself in the mirror, watching as your tits bounce up and down with each thrust. He lets go of your hair and uses both hands on your hips to bring you back and forth against him, harder, faster.

He keeps fucking you, panting and grunting while you watch. As his movement quickens and he grits his teeth, he abruptly pulls out of you, taking a step back. He takes a deep breath and slaps your ass. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream. You moan and look back at him with soft eyes. You want more.

“On the bed,” he says.

You step from around him and walk to the bed, turning around to face him when you’re near it. He steps out of his sweatpants and kicks them to the side.

“How do you want me?” You ask.

“Now you’re being a good girl.” He nods his head with a crooked grin. He places one hand on his cock as he walks towards you, stroking it. “On your back.”

You sit on the bed and scoot back on it before laying down. He puts his knees on the bed, still stroking himself as he looks down at you.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groans.

The way he says it, the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm. You want him back inside of you. He pushes your thighs apart one at a time with his knees and lowers himself on top of you.

“Hands above your head.”

You put your hands up so they’re resting on the pillows and he holds them together with one hand. With the other he guides himself back into you. Once inside, he moves his hips ever so slowly, in and out.

He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in teasing circles. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind his back. You start to move your hips against him, wanting him to go faster.

He looks up to you and gives the tiniest head shake. You stop your movements with a soft whine.

He picks up the pace, watching your face contort with pleasure. Whenever you let out a moan and move your hips against his, he slows back down. He repeats the process, squeezing your wrists together as you try to free them. You want to at least touch him, but he’s too content playing with you.

He brings himself closer to you, first kissing you, then moving down to your breasts. He takes each nipple into his mouth, in turn, licking, nipping, pulling at it with his teeth while he looks up at you. All the while still rubbing your clit with his other hand each time he pulls his hips back and has access to you. The sight of him ravaging your body is one you hope to never forget.

The stop and go of all his combined stimulation starts to peak. You tighten your grip around his waist.

“Fuck me, please. I’m gonna—“ You let out a moan, as he bites down hard on your nipple.

“Ah-Ah,” he shakes his head again, looking up at you with your nipple still between his teeth. He sits up and releases your hands, resorting back to his torturous, slow hip movements, hands resting on your knees. “Remember lesson number two?”

You blink up at him, trying to focus on what he means. It’s hard to think of anything else when he has you this close to release. Lesson two? You think back to your second night and it dawns you.

“Chan,” you say his name slowly, moving your hands up to his chest. “May I? Will you please make me come?”

He grips your thighs and readjusts them so your legs are on one side of his neck. He lifts you upwards at an angle and wraps his arm around your thighs as he starts pounding in to you with fervor. His other hand continues playing with your breasts. Groping them, slapping them.

“Fuck,” he says as you dig your nails into his arms now that your hands are finally free.

You watch, enraptured by the sight of him above you. His abs contracting with each movement. His hair disheveled, some of his bangs sticking to his forehead. His skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. You’ve never seen him look better.

“You wanna come?” He asks.

“Please,” you beg, nodding your head.

“Who do you belong to?” He growls, slapping a hand to your breast and squeezing it.

“You,” you reply without hesitation, flinching at the pain.

“What does that make you?”

“Yours,” you breathe, as you continue to hold yourself back from release.

“Say it again,” he pinches your nipple between his fingers.

“I’m yours,” you whimper, wrapping your hand around the opposite side of his neck from your legs. “I’m yours, Chan.”

“Good,” he says, eyes on yours as he smirks and fucks you. “Come for me, y/n.”

Your back arches as your toes curl. You use all the strength in you to pull him down to you, stealing a kiss as your orgasm courses through you. He doesn’t resist. He doesn’t get upset. You’ve quite literally never been so bent as you are in this position, but you don’t care. Having him kiss you wildly as you come around his cock is absolutely worth it.

As you’re still coming down from your wave of euphoria, he sits up and pulls your legs apart. He grips one thigh in each hand and continues thrusting into you. You’re moaning—it feels so goddamn good, you could cry.

He throws his head back, grunting and tightening his grip on your thighs as he finishes.

His movements start to slow, his breathing turning into soft pants. He lets go of your thighs and lowers himself to you again. He brushes your damp hair back from your face as he looks you deeply in the eyes.

“That was lesson three,” he winks.

An unexpected laugh falls from your lips and he chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment. You feel like your heart could soar right now. A genuine laugh shared.

“Grab on to me,” he says.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lock your legs around his waist again. He scoots you down on the bed then picks you up, carrying you into the bathroom. You bury your face in his neck, smiling—sex drunk. Happy. Delirious.

He holds on to your waist as he turns on the shower, keeping you in his arms while the water heats up. There’s no light on in the bathroom, but his shower head flickers from blue, to green, then settles on red. His hands tangle in your hair again, gently tugging on it to pull your head up from his neck. His eyes search yours for a moment and you have no idea what they’re trying to convey. He pushes your head towards him and kisses you slowly. The kiss is tame and unassuming—it’s not leading up to anything further. It’s just two people temporarily caught in the haze of their connection.

He takes you into the shower with him and leans you against the wall as he continues kissing you, letting the water drip between you. You don’t know how long this high will last, he could go right back to being an asshole in the next minute, so you want to enjoy this version of him as long as you can.

[ read chapter six here ]

a/n: share your thoughts <3

tag list: @iflmho /@skzstaykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @kayleefriedchicken / @krayzieestay

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #bangchan fanfic #bang chan #stray kids #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bangchan smut #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x reader

484 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 7 months ago

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [19] - Couples Therapy

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: A therapy session can be enlightening.

Word Count: 2300

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

It wasn’t like you thought taking Bucky to couple’s therapy for your technically fake marriage was going to be easy, but you didn’t think it would be this difficult.

Bucky bounced his leg beside you on the sofa while you both sat in the waiting room, his eyes darting around the room as if he expected someone to attack him at any moment.

“What happens if she asks me questions?” he asked you gruffly and you pulled your brows together.

“You’ll be fine.”

Bucky huffed out and turned to you.

“How about instead of doing this, I just pay you money to walk out of here?”

“Not gonna happen, Bucky.”

“I’ll put the weekend house under your name, you like it there.”

“The weekend house will be mine once we get a divorce anyway,” you reminded him. “It’s on the prenup.”

Bucky licked his lips. “Do you want another house?”

“Stop trying to bribe me,” you told him as he eyed the door to the therapist’s office before fixing the gun in his waistband and you gasped.

“Why did you bring a gun to the therapy?!” you hissed and he narrowed his eyes.

“We don’t know what expects us in there!” he whispered back, making your jaw drop.

“Do you seriously think—Bucky, look me in the eye and tell me you think our therapist is going to try to shoot us in couple’s therapy—”

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes?” the therapist’s voice reached you as the door opened and you both turned to her before you smiled at her sweetly.

“Hi!”

“You can come in,” she said, stepping aside and you let out a breath, then stood up, holding Bucky by the arm to signal him to stand as well. Bucky heaved a sigh as if he was being tortured but followed you into the room dutifully and you both sat down on the couch, the therapist taking her seat soon after.

“Dr. Raynor,” you said and she smiled back at you.

“Mrs. Barnes.”

“Y/N is fine,” you said and motioned at Bucky. “And this is Bucky.”

Bucky gave her a curt nod quietly and you cleared your throat, shifting your weight.

“My therapist Dr. Cooper recommended you,” you told her. “She speaks very highly of you.”

“Dr. Cooper is a very respected colleague of mine,” she told you. “The feeling is mutual. So what brings you here?”

“Well, we’ve just got married,” you said. “And I’ve been in therapy since I was a child, basically. Bucky on the other hand has a more distant stance towards it so I figured it could help us both if we did it together.”

Dr. Raynor nodded and turned to Bucky.

“And what about you Bucky?” she asked. “What brings you here?”

Bucky raised his brows before pointing at you with his thumb. “She did.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back in the couch and Dr. Raynor hummed.

“You don’t think you should be here?”

“Honestly doc, I have no idea why I’m here,” he said. “I’m fine, our marriage is fine, so...”

“It hasn’t been a month since we got married,” you added. “Just putting it out there. But I think it’ll help Bucky if we build this—habit.”

She turned to Bucky. “And how about you?” she asked. “How do you feel about therapy, Bucky?”

“My dad would always say whatever your problems are, they should stay between your two ears instead of anyone else’s,” Bucky replied, bouncing his leg again. “Hate to agree with the guy, but he has a point.”

“George isn’t exactly the epitome of good mental health, Buck.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Either way.”

“Fathers may have different viewpoints especially when it comes to mental health,” Dr. Raynor said. “Given their generation.”

Bucky clicked his tongue. “Well, he and my mother have never been to therapy and they’re fine.”

“Your father had like one thousand mistresses,” you pointed out, making Dr. Raynor raise her brows and Bucky made a face.

“Allegedly.”

“It’s not allegedly, Becca literally told me she once—”

“Bucky, how would you describe your parents’ marriage?” she asked and Bucky heaved a sigh.

“They’re fine.”

“Would you say you look up to their marriage?” she asked. “Or that you want to have a similar one?”

You scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

“You wouldn’t want to have that?” she asked and you shook your head.

“Bucky can’t disrespect me like that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

You pulled your brows together, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Both,” you said without looking at him. “We have a deal, so I believe he will hold up his end of the deal.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the proud smile curling Bucky’s lips and Dr. Raynor nodded.

“Anything else you feel like you took after your father, besides your opinion on therapy?”

“Why are we talking about my father?” Bucky asked back while you tried to hold back the retort. “I thought this was couples therapy.”

“We can talk about anything you feel like we need to talk about,” Dr. Raynor said. “But most of the time, our parents’ relationship is the blueprint of our own relationships even if we don’t realize it.”

“That’s not what’s happening here,” Bucky said, motioning at you. “It’s different.”

“How?”

“What she said,” Bucky said curtly, nodding in your direction and you heaved a sigh. “He’s good with my mom, and he’s great with my sister, no need to talk about him.”

“But not with you?” Dr. Raynor asked and Bucky dragged his tongue over his teeth.

“He’s fine.”

“Bucky,” said and he shot you a look.

“What?”

“He’s fine with you? Really?”

“Y/N, not everyone needs a father, okay?” he insisted. “Some of us need a boss while growing up in this business.”

“I don’t think you needed a boss instead of a father when you were a kid, actually,” you insisted, making Dr. Raynor tilt her head.

“Would you mind explaining that?” she asked. “That boss comment?”

Bucky drummed his fingertips on his knee.

“It’s a part of…” he stopped himself and cleared his throat. “My father knew what I was capable of, so he pushed me until I saw it. Until I proved myself. That’s not a terrible thing, it worked out after all.”

You licked your lips.

“Really?” you asked. “So you’d be totally okay with following his footsteps?”

That made him stop for a moment and he scoffed.

“Fine, I wouldn’t do the cage fight because that shit’s medieval but it was because he knew I could handle it,” he defended him. “He’s great with Becca, and I don’t need him to be good with me. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

Your stomach did a painful flip. “I forgot about that.”

“Cage fight?” Dr. Raynor asked and you both turned to her, Bucky crossing his arms over his chest. You nibbled on your lip.

“Um,” you said. “Our fathers are... CEOs and we both have family companies. There’s this tradition that—the family company has a boss and an heir and when you’re the heir, you need to show that you can handle the job.”

She frowned slightly.

“And the job can get pretty physical,” you said as Bucky let out a bitter chuckle beside you. “And one of the requirements is…when an heir is picked after years of training and everything, once the boss decides it’s time for them to prove themselves, they put you in a cage with other um—” you thought for a moment. “Some professional fighters that happen to be in the business as well, working under the family. Bodyguards, if you will.”

Not bodyguards.

They would put the heir in a cage with the best fighters working for the boss.

“But usually the bosses ask the heir to prove themselves right before they pass the crown, so to speak,” you said and stole a look at him. “Not George though.”

“I was ready to prove myself.”

“At sixteen?” you asked him. “No one fucking asks that of the heir at sixteen, Buck. My father didn’t even put Ian through that yet.”

“I was already his heir, he wanted to make sure,” Bucky said. “I beat everyone up in that cage, didn’t I?”

“Your nose was broken,” you counted with your fingers. “Three of your ribs, you could barely see through one eye for like two weeks because of how swollen it was—”

“But I proved myself,” he pointed out, making you clench your jaw and Dr. Raynor sat up straighter, trying to shake off the shock. “I’m glad I did it, I’d do it again.”

“You see?” you asked. “And then he asks me why we need therapy.”

“I don’t need therapy,” Bucky shot back. “I don’t even know why I’m here, I'm perfectly fine.”

Dr. Raynor licked her lips, then grabbed the notebook by her side while Bucky pursed his lips, slipping a little on the couch.

“Great,” he said. “She has a notebook and everything. Charm, how soon can we leave?”

Well, no one had gotten shot during your first couples therapy session, so as far as you were concerned, it was a success. Bucky had to drop by his office for half an hour to check on something, and after that you figured you could go to lunch together to discuss the next step in your plan so you tagged along.

Becca was already there in his office when you two walked in and Bucky tilted his head.

“What are you doing here?”

“Mom sent me,” she told him before coming to kiss your cheek. “Hey!”

“Hi there,” you said, kissing her cheek back. “We’re going to grab lunch after this, do you want to come?”

“Sure, I could eat,” she said, flinging herself on the couch. “Steve is here too, by the way.”

Bucky frowned. “Did you two come together?”

“Nope, I ran into him by the entrance,” she said while you took your spot next to her and Bucky walked to his laptop to switch it on.

“Mom sent you?” Bucky asked and rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, dad asked her to?”

Becca raised her hands while you gritted your teeth at the mention of George.

“You can’t shoot the messenger, there’s truce now.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m going to get shot by the messenger?” Bucky asked back, making her grin.

“You know how mom is,” she reminded him. “She wants all of us to get along. I take it you’re not willing to have another dinner anytime soon?”

“Fuck no—”

“Hey,” Steve said, knocking on the door and waved at you before turning to Bucky. “You’re busy?”

“Not at all,” Bucky said. “Did we have a meeting today? Did I forget?”

“Nah, I was just around,” Steve said. “Figured I could give you the news myself. Clint is flying to Chicago.”

Bucky pulled his brows together. “What?”

Steve shot him a grin. “My reaction exactly,” he said and came to sit on the other sofa. “How was therapy?”

“Ask Y/N,” Bucky said, clicking on something on his laptop. “She was the one who dragged me there.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “He brought a gun to therapy.”

Becca’s eyes widened. “Did you shoot the therapist, Bucky?!”

“No!” Bucky exclaimed. “Jesus, you two have zero trust in me.”

“How was it, really?” Steve asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“He’ll find it easier in the following weeks.”

Bucky frowned at you.

“Following weeks?” he asked. “We’re going there again?”

“Bucky, therapy is not like getting vaccinated,” Becca pointed out. “You can’t just have one session and expect it to fix your shit.”

“I don’t have the time—”

“I already talked to your assistant for the next month, try me,” you said sweetly and Bucky let out a groan, then turned to Steve.

“What is it about Clint and Chicago?”

“Well, he seems to believe that he can convince Rhett.”

Becca’s head whipped up and she blinked a couple of times while you tried to keep a straight face, and subtly pressed your index finger on your lips, giving her a slight grin. She let out a breath, then turned to Steve while Bucky scoffed.

“Yeah, that’s impossible.”

“What’s that about Chicago?” Becca asked and Steve heaved a sigh.

“Chicago’s prince became the new king recently,” he explained. “I thought it was hard to talk to his father, I spoke way too soon.”

“Yeah, he’s a dickhead,” Bucky pointed out while you bit inside your cheek to keep your laughter in. Becca sat up straighter.

“Why?”

“He doesn’t trust anyone who’s not from Chicago,” Steve said. “Refuses to do business with anyone else.”

“But doesn’t he kind of have to do it?” Becca asked. “Even we do business with other cities.”

“Chicago is different, Bec,” Bucky said. “They have their own rules, and as of now, they don’t actually need other cities.”

“Word on the street they might have to do it soon though,” Steve said. “Every boss in New York is trying to convince him, but as Bucky said, he’s a dickhead so…”

“That’s pointless, I’m telling you,” Bucky said as he typed at his laptop, then slammed the lid shut. “Okay, I’m done. Lunch?”

“I have a meeting with Sam,” Steve said as he stood up from the couch and he and Bucky walked to the door while Becca clicked her tongue, turning to look at you with a huge grin on her face.

“So,” she said and you hummed.

“Yes?”

“I take it he doesn’t know?”

“Nope.”

“None of them do?”

You shook your head, still smiling and Becca let out a laugh, then threw her arm over your shoulder.

“Nice plan,” she said and you giggled.

“Thank you,” you said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let’s go, you know how hungry therapy makes me.”

Chapter 20

342 notes · View notes

tulip-room · 5 months ago

Text

♡•◦Excuses◦•♡

Pairing: Suna x Chubby! Fem! Reader

Content: Suna’s little sister loves your sweet treats. That’s definitely why he’s in there so often

Words: 2k

a/n: This is part of my Sweet Treats writing series! So stayed tuned for the other parts. This is the second story in the series you can find the other one and the future ones in the post!! I hope you enjoy me adding to the Suna chubby chaser agenda <3

“No, I’m serious Rin. It’s literally the best bakery I have ever been to. They don’t only have baked goods either, they have a deli with regular sandwiches and pretzel buns. It’s mouthwatering.” Suna’s sister exclaims trying to get her brother to agree to take her to the aforementioned bakery. He rolls his eyes with a sigh and starts putting his jacket on.

“Fine, but only if you’ll finally stop talking about it.” The two walk out the door, Suna following behind his sister. She seems excited and as much as he pretends to hate her ramblings it’s endearing and he enjoys making his sister happy.

“Hello little Suna!” They’re greeted as soon as they walk in. “Who did you bring with you?” Suna looks up and has to take a moment to collect himself. Less than five feet away is the most beautiful woman he thinks he’s ever seen. She has flour on her apron and a bit of chocolate on her cheek, most people wouldn’t think she was his type. Most people were wrong, he lives for chubbier people. More of them to love, as people say. He hasn’t even realized that his sister was talking about him.

“Yeah, this is my brother. Rinatarou?” She waves a hand in front of his face, she’s abit amused by the blush building on his cheeks and how quickly he froze when he caught a look at her favorite baker. Now she can’t say this wasn’t her plan, she knew her brother would love you. But she was pleasantly surprised to see she was right.

Suna shakes his head and comes back to where the two of you are laughing slightly. Wow, even your laugh was pretty. “What can I help you with?” And suddenly his mouth is dry and he’s not sure what to say. He clears his thoat and looks at the menu.

“Uhm…a…ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato sandwich on a pretzel bun. And whatever she wants,” he points at his sister who rattles off her order. He sighs and pulls his card out of his wallet.

“Alright, I’ll have that right out for you two,” you say, handing his card back to him. Your fingers brush accidentally and Suna takes a quick breath in. His sister can’t help the laugh that escapes her mouth and tries to cover it with a cough. The two make their way over to a table still in view of the counter and the kitchen. Suna is pushed into a chair where he can see you as his sister sits opposite him.

“So,” she smiles at him teasingly. “Y/N huh?”

“Y/N? Is that her name?” He asks, a little distracted as he watches you work. His sister doesn’t need to turn around to see what has his attention.

“Mhm, she’s single you know.”

“She is?” That got his attention. His head whips to his sister.

“Yup, complains that she needs someone to cook and bake for all the time. If only I knew someone who is hopeless at cooking?” She taps her chin as she looks at him. “Seriously Rin, if you don’t get her to be your girlfriend I will. I need her fresh baked bread.”

“Is that all this is?”

“No, I want both of you to be happy, she’s been very nice to me and you deserve someone as good as her. So man up and ask her out.” She says it a little louder than he likes and it catches the attention of the other patrons. He flicks her forehead with a frown.

“Don’t say it so loud.” He whisper-yells at her. Eventually their order gets called and Suna gets up to collect it. When you smile at him he thinks he died. He just gives you a small smile back. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, Suna.”

“Rintarou, you can call me Rintarou, it would get a little confusing with my sister anyway.”

“Okay, you’re more than welcome, Rintarou.” Did his name always sound that nice or was it just you who made it sound nice. Regardless he takes the food and sits back down.

“Oh my goodness, can you be anymore whipped?”

“You planned this.” He glares gently at his sister.

“You can’t prove that,” she shrugs with a smile and starts digging into her sandwich.

Day One

You weren’t expecting to see Suna again, at least without the company of his sister. “Hello Rintarou,” you greet him as he walks in and finish checking out a customer. They didn’t request a sandwich so you just had to measure out the cookies. He stood patiently behind the person. Once they leave it’s just you and Suna in the shop again. “What brings you in?”

He hadn’t thought that far. “Uhm..just.” He clears his throat and scracthes the back of his neck in a shy manner. “Just picking something up for my sister.”

“Oh, okay.” You start putting things in the computer. “Anything else? I already put her usual in.” You give him a kind smile and try not to think about how his cheeks turn slightly red at the action.

“Nope, that’s it.” You nod and head to the back to make the sandwich. When you come back you get his payment. “My sister really loves you- er your baked goods and sandwiches.”

“I’m aware, it makes my day to see her. She’s adorable, always going on and on about her brother. If I didn’t know any better I would think she was trying to set us up.” You tease gently and hand him the wrapped sandwich.

“Yeah, that would be silly.”

“Maybe, she did a good job selling you. See you later, Rintarou.” You wave as you turn to help the customer that had just walked in. He leaves the bakery with less money in his wallet and a blush on his cheeks.

Day Two

Once again the brown haired man came into the bakery without the presence of his little sister. “Hello Rintarou,” you greet him. This time he’s the only customer in the bakery so the two of you have time to chat before you make his order. “You know, if you come in everyday I may think you’re not just here for your sister.” You tease him as you ring up the order. Your fingers brush against his again as you take his card from him.

“That would be absurd Y/N. Obviously I’m here to treat my little sister while I’m in town.” He smiles and leans his arm on the counter as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Mhm, of course.” You give him a smile of you own and hand him the carefully packaged sandwich. “Tell the little Suna I said hello.”

“What not going to say hello to me? Your favorite Suna?”

“I did say hello to you, when you walked in. And favorite? I don’t know about all that, the jury is still out on it.” You lean against the counter yourself. Suna takes the opportunity to wipe at the chocolate on your cheek that taunts him everyday he comes in. Your face grows warm and it’s your turn to stutter.

“Sure I’m not your favorite?”

You let out a small laugh and push his shoulder gently. “It takes more than some teasing to be my favorite. Goodbye Rintarou.” You wave at him as a group walks into the bakery.

Day Three

Day three is when you call him out. He had to wait in line and there’s more of a crowd in the bakery than there usually is. Probably something to do with it being a Friday. You still wave at him when he comes in and he patiently waits at the end of the line. Thankfully by the time he gets up to the counter there’s only two more customers after him. He orders and stands to the side to talk to you when you become free again.

“Sorry about that Rintarou,” you turn to him with a smile. He waves you off as you wipe your hands off on your apron.

“You own a business, I would hope it’s not always empty.” He plays with the container of straws, spinning one around. Happy to see that everyone was sitting down enjoying their food. You allow yourself to lean on the counter as well.

“Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays are my busiest.”

“Makes sense.”

“You know the funniest thing happened yesterday.” He hums looking at you in confusion clearly wanting you to go on. “Your sister came into the shop wanting a sandwich. Consider me shocked when I told her you had already come in earlier to get her one. She looked just as shocked as I was.”

Shit. That was the first thing that came to his mind as he reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck. He looks away as his face grows red. “Did she?” He asks his voice, lifting up near the end of the question.

“Mhm. Isn’t that funny?”

“Hilarious.” He was going to scream into his pillow when he got home and probably glare at his sister through dinner. “Would you look at the time, I have to get home.” He checks a fake watch on his wrist.

“I think it’s cute that you’re using it as an excuse to see me. I enjoy seeing you too. Goodbye, Rintarou.” You wave at him as he races out the door covering his face with a hand. He still wasn’t used to how gently you would call his name in greetings or goodbyes.

Day Four

It was the last day of his visit, his sister had come in earlier to tease her brother over the situation from yesterday. You scolded her lightly and told her not to tease him too much or he might not come back.

“Like that would happen, he’s whipped your honor.” The two of you are still laughing when he enters the shop. What was she doing here? He remembers requesting his sister not show up today but he supposes he can’t always get what he wants.

“Hello, Rintarou.” Yeah, he’s done for if you keep saying his name like that. “Here to get something for your sister?” You tease and he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Seems she got something for herself.” He looks at the drink and sandwich in his sister’s hands. Getting the hint she walks away after waving to you.

“So, what actually brings you in today.”

“I’m here to order something for myself.”

“And what would that be?” You lean closer to him.

“Your number.” It was a surprise, not an unwelcome one though.

“Okay, give me your phone. It’ll cost you though.” You hold your hand out for him to place his phone in your hand.

“What will it cost me?” He hands his phone over to you with a smile.

“A date, a proper one.” You smile as you put your number in and hand the phone back to the dumbfounded man. You hear quiet clapping and see his sister smiling and giving you a thumbs up from behind him. He whips his head around and she pretends like she was eating her sandwich the whole time.

“Deal. I’ll be back in a few weeks, you can cash your date in then.”

“Okay, see you then Rintarou.”

Bonus:

Suna smiles at his phone in between breaks. Now it wasn’t unusual for him to be on his phone during breaks in practice but it was a surprise that he all but ran to it. “Got a girlfriend, Sunarin?” Komori teases as he tries to look over Suna’s shoulder.

“Not yet, but hopefully.” He smiles as he answers. Komori can’t even tease him more because he’s not quite sure he’s ever seen the boy look so happy. Suna knew he would have to thank his sister some more when he visited again, many hours of listening to her gossip (and not pretending like he didn’t care) it would also result in getting his nails painted while they gossiped. They were chipping anyway.

rules masterlist

taglist: @sanaexus

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #tulip writes #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #tulip types #suna x y/n #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

197 notes · View notes

the-oblivious-writer · 1 year ago

Text

Touch Tank

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Tensions are high when you go over to the Carpenters' apartment after telling Tara you would fix their sink; Sam isn't exactly what you would call your 'biggest fan'

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara & R aren't together, & no pronouns used

Notes: Another work based off of Gilmore Girls! Currently re-watching it and I'm slowly inching towards s3 ep 19... I'm avoiding it like the plague (I wanna stay in literali bliss just a lil longer 😔)

4/7 for Seven Days of Christmas

You made the mistake of agreeing to fix Tara’s sink.

Somehow Tara roped you into agreeing. Plumbers were expensive, and with paying rent in New York while also paying for college, they were already on a tight budget. You offered them a cheaper price, and you honestly didn’t mind giving Tara a favor.

That was before you remembered Sam would be there too.

You have known Tara all of five months, and in that time you haven’t exactly left the best impression on her older sister. Sam has already caught you sneaking in ten times—you got lucky every other time—and it didn’t help that you had an attitude.

Tara wanted nothing more than for Sam to get to know you—to not just go off the you she made up in her head. So, when Sam found out you would be coming to fix their kitchen sink… she figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give you another shot. Besides, she was doing this for Tara. She wasn’t sure as to why Tara was so persistent on it, but all she knows is that Tara wants you and her to get along.

—

You walk up the stairs to the shared apartment after getting buzzed in by Tara. Once you get to the door you knock and the door opens.

“Hey,” Tara greets.

“Hey back,” you reply. Tara moves to the side, letting you in. Once you’re inside you look at Tara once again before smiling to yourself.

“You’re very punctual,” she remarked—watching as your eyes wandered.

“Yeah, well, it was either this or more apartment hunting with Danny.”

“You’re moving?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Don’t really get the point—the apartment’s fine. He says there’s ‘interior damage’ or whatever. Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Who knows; a new place could be nice.”

“I guess. He’s kinda eyeing the vacant apartment that’s not too far from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… not saying it’s a sure thing but if we do move, can you promise you won’t get sick of me?”

“Sick of that face? Never…” She gently pinched your cheek teasingly; heat rushed to your face.

“Did you change your hair?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Your hair looks…different.”

“So segway’s not your thing, huh?”

“Is it?”

“Uh, no. I wear it like this a lot. Why?”

“Just…” You shrug, “Different.”

“Oh. Bad ‘different’?” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason.

You smirk, about to answer her question, but turn your head when you hear a noise coming from down the hall. It sounded like Sam yelling a curse before Tara looked back at you with a light chuckle.

“The sink hasn’t been putting her in the best mood,” she elaborates.

“She’s usually in a good mood?” You quip with raised eyebrows, tone laced in sarcasm. Tara scolds you with a look, causing you to back down. “Alright, alright.”

“This fucking sink is driving me insane–” Sam cuts herself off, stopping in her tracks when she sees you.

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” she says and you simply nod at her words. “Refreshing to see you use the front door for once…” She murmurs but you and Tara hear it. Tara scolds her with the same look she gave you just moments before.

“If you want there’s Dr. Pepper in the kitchen,” Sam reluctantly offered. You looked at Tara then at Sam before briefly nodding.

After a few seconds of silence, Sam clears her throat. “Okay, well, everything’s in the kitchen if you want to get started. The toolbox, and gloves are all there. If you need anything else just call one of us.”

Tara looks between you and Sam before speaking up, “Come on, I’ll show you.” She extends her hand, gesturing to the direction of the kitchen. You begin to walk in that direction but before Tara follows behind, she gives Sam a look.

“I’m trying,” Sam huffed.

“Well keep it up pleasee,” Tara requested as she walked away to the kitchen.

By the time she was there, you were already setting up. “Question,” She states.

“Yes?” You put the pair of gloves in your back pocket, looking over at Tara.

“You come over. You seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. You put together several full sentences—even using a couple of words that contain two or more syllables. And then my sister appears, and suddenly we need a thought bubble over your head to understand what you’re thinking. Can you tell me why that is?”

You looked down at the four-way silicone key in your hand before looking at Tara again with a response. “The verbal thing comes and goes.”

Tara sighed, lightly rolling her eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to get along with my sister.”

“I took the Dr. Pepper,” you stated as a matter of factly.

She furrowed her eyebrows, “I know.”

“Personally, I think it’s a little crazy to put lemon in Dr. Pepper—buuuut I took it anyhow.” You reached for the bucket and rag as you heard Tara huff.

“Stop it.”

“Ooo, stern face,” you say as you lift the tool and bucket to place by the sink. Tara continues, following you as you crouched down by the sink.

“Look. I went out on a limb for you, trying to get my sister to give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay? So, I don’t think it would hurt you to try to be nice.”

You put down the wrench you had just picked up, now fully turned and standing to look at Tara as you spoke. “Why?” You simply asked, taking off your jacket.

“Why?” Tara mirrored.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because she’s my sister—and she and Danny are dating.”

“So?” You tossed your jacket on top of a nearby chair.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” She asked incredulously; her eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“So, just because she’s your sister or Danny’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that I automatically have to get along with her,” you stated with pure conviction, rolling up your sleeves.

“Y/N, my sister is a great person. She’s also my best friend—so if you care about me at all you will take that into consideration,” Tara was now crossing her arms as she stood her ground. “And you will be mildly polite to her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, looking her up and down before responding. “What makes you think I care about you?” Tara didn’t need eyes to know you were smirking and enjoying this way too much.

She blushes, looking down at the ground and shaking her head as she grows flustered. “I–I don’t mean care-care. Like—care. I mean if you like me at all—not like-like! I just meant that–” Tara stumbles over her words, tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You watch her with amusement, a soft smile grazing your face as you let out a light snort.

“If you think of me remotely as the sort of person you could occasionally stand to talk to then you will try to get along with my sister. That’s all.”

Your eyes never pulled from her once, only looking at her with fondness as you finally said something. “Okay,” you nod.

“Okay?”

“Can’t guarantee that it’ll work but I’ll try,” you confirm.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” You glance at the sink then back at Tara. “Should probably get to work.”

“Right. Sorry—go ahead.” She turns to walk away, looking at you one more time before leaving the kitchen. You crouch down by the sink again, not meeting her gaze but feeling it. She doesn’t see how you grin to yourself; your mind being plagued with thoughts of the younger Carpenter.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort.

—

Later that night, you decided to stop by Tara’s window for a surprise visit. You looked at her for a few seconds—admiring how peaceful she looked—before lightly tapping on her window. She turned to look at the window, a grin grazing her face when her eyes meets yours.

She lifted the window with a smile as you looked up at her fondly. “Hey,” you finally said after the window fully opened, expression never faltering as you leaned your head against the window frame.

“Hey back,” she replied. “Didn’t you say something to Sam about not coming through the window anymore.” Tara heard from Sam that you managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the older Carpenter, actually making an effort to try with her. No matter how awkward it might have been on your end, at least you tried.

“You talk about me with Sam?” You asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile. “Just get inside.”

“I didn’t hear a no~” You say in a sing-song voice. Tara pulled you in by your sleeve, roughly, might you add. “Watch the shirt,” you complain while you’re pulled inside her room.

“Quirk it.”

“How gentle,” you sarcastically complimented; you dusted your pants off with your free hand, not commenting on how Tara still held a grip on your other arm.

“So,” Tara began as she sat on her bed—dragging you with her, “What are we watching tonight?”

“I can’t do Freaky Friday again.”

“Fine.”

“How about Cursed?” You inquired. Tara was leaning her back against your chest; she looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

“That movie’s terrible.”

“One-hundred percent, but Milo Ventimiglia is in it.”

“Doesn’t he only have like six minutes of screen time?”

“But in it, nevertheless.”

“You drive a hard bargain… Get the laptop?”

You respond by reaching over to the night stand, grabbing her laptop. You hand it to her and she opens it on her lap.

Tara would never comment on how she was the only one who got this side of you—the gentle, kind, and considerate side. Well, when she wants to see you squirm she comments on it. But for now, she’ll keep it to it herself.

-----------

A/N: the urge to write a paper on how jess mariano is a truly misunderstood character grows each & each day...

(I got beef with star hallows. we leave it at that.)

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #scream fanfic

724 notes · View notes

shitsndgiggs · 2 months ago

Note

Hii I hope ur doing well and I wanted to request a story about Kenan Yildiz.

How about they are neighbours and basically have a shit start where they hate each other bc he gives off fb/full of himself and she is really confident and they have a enemies to lovers trope? Maybe it starts off when one day he hears her arguing with her ex or smth and starts to worry and care about her?

ANNOYING NEIGHBOR - KENAN YILDIZ

Your annoying neighbor might not be so annoying after all

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I’m lounging on my couch, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, trying to ignore the steady thumping of bass coming from my neighbor Kenan’s apartment next door.

The guy’s always throwing some kind of party or having friends over, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t annoy me.

We’ve had a few run-ins since he moved in—nothing major, just enough for me to form an opinion: Kenan is full of himself.

Confident to a fault and always with that charming smile that seems to get him whatever he wants. But not with me.

I’m not interested in being another one of his flings, and I made that clear from day one. Still, it hasn’t stopped him from trying to flirt with me whenever we happen to cross paths in the hallway.

It’s like he enjoys the challenge, but I’m not playing along.

A sudden, loud knock at my door startles me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I roll my eyes, half-expecting it to be Kenan, maybe coming over to complain about a noise I’m not making or some other nonsense. But when I open the door, it’s not him.

It’s my ex.

Before I can even react, he shoves past me, forcing his way into my apartment. The door slams against the wall, making me jump.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand, my heart racing as I turn to face him. His eyes are wild, and there’s an angry flush on his face.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” he snaps, his voice laced with anger as he starts pacing back and forth in my living room.

“Because I have nothing to say to you!” I fire back, trying to keep my voice steady. “You need to leave!”

He stops dead in his tracks, turning to face me, his jaw clenched. “Not until we talk. You think you can just walk away from me? Ignore me like I’m nothing?”

I swallow hard, feeling a cold shiver run down my spine. I glance at the door, wondering if I can make a break for it, but he’s blocking my path.

“I’m not doing this with you,” I say, trying to keep my voice firm. “Get out, or I’ll call the police.”

He takes a threatening step toward me, his eyes dark with fury. “You’re not going anywhere until we’ve talked this out.”

Fear grips me as I take a step back, my heart hammering in my chest. I can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

This isn’t the first time he’s shown up uninvited, but he’s never been this aggressive before.

Suddenly, there’s another noise—a loud knock on the door that’s still ajar. I look up, and to my surprise, Kenan is standing there, his face a mixture of confusion and concern.

“What’s going on here?” he asks, his voice steady but edged with anger.

“Get out of here, man,” my ex snaps, waving his hand dismissively at Kenan. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Kenan doesn’t budge. He steps inside, his eyes flicking between my ex and me, taking in the situation. His gaze sharpens when he sees the fear on my face.

“Yeah, it does,” Kenan says, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “You need to leave. Now.”

My ex turns to face him fully, puffing up like he’s ready for a fight. “Or what? What are you going to do about it?”

And that’s when it happens—my ex’s hand suddenly swings up, aiming for me. I barely have time to react before the slap lands across my cheek, hard and stinging. I stumble back, shock and pain flooding my senses.

But before I can even process what’s happening, Kenan’s on him. He grabs my ex by the collar, shoving him back so hard he nearly loses his balance.

“I said, get out!” Kenan growls, his voice low and dangerous.

My ex tries to throw a punch, but Kenan blocks it effortlessly, pushing him further toward the door.

“Don’t you ever touch her again,” Kenan warns, his grip on my ex’s collar tightening. “If I see you near her again, I swear—”

“You’re crazy!” my ex yells, trying to wriggle free, but Kenan doesn’t let go.

“Get out before I do something you’ll regret,” Kenan spits out.

Finally, my ex seems to realize he’s not going to win this. He yanks himself free from Kenan’s grip, shooting me one last hateful glare before storming out the door, slamming it behind him so hard the walls shake.

For a moment, the apartment is eerily quiet. I’m still standing there, trying to catch my breath, my cheek throbbing from the slap. Kenan’s eyes soften as he turns to me, his anger melting into concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks, stepping closer, his voice gentle now.

I nod, even though I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. “I… I’m fine,” I manage to say, though my voice trembles.

Kenan reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently touching my arm. “Did he hurt you?”

I shake my head, trying to hold back the tears. “I’m okay. It’s just… he’s never been like this before.”

Kenan’s jaw tightens again, his eyes dark with anger. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. No one should.”

I nod, finally letting out a shaky breath. “Thank you… for stepping in. I didn’t know what to do.”

Kenan’s expression softens, and he gives me a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

For a moment, we just stand there, the tension slowly easing out of the room. I realize that for the first time since he moved in, I’m not annoyed by Kenan’s presence. In fact, I’m grateful.

“I’ll stay for a while,” he says after a moment. “Just to make sure he doesn’t come back.”

I look at him, surprised by the offer. “You don’t have to do that…”

“I want to,” he insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

I finally nod, feeling a strange sense of comfort knowing he’s here. Maybe Kenan isn’t just the cocky, full-of-himself guy I thought he was. Maybe there’s more to him than I gave him credit for.

“Alright,” I say, my voice still a bit shaky. “Thank you, Kenan.”

He smiles, a genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “Anytime,” he says softly. “I’m just glad I was here.”

And for the first time, I find myself glad that he was, too.

#football imagine #football x reader #turkiye #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz

102 notes · View notes

targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year ago

Text

A Perfect Score - Chapter 8 - The Fallout | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: You wait for whatever secrets Larys might have, but they say things get worse before they get better. Right? | Word Count: 8k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: angst 💀, smut straight out the gate, semi-public(?) sex, degradation, praise, aemond being a sexual menace, dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), creampie, mentions of emotionally abusive relationships (both platonic and romantic), mentions of injury resulting in loss of sight, lots of swearing, feelings of inadequacy

A/N: oh lord here we go

It had been a week since you’d last heard from Larys, and the anticipation of what he would return with had your palms sweating as you double tapped your phone screen, seeing if any notifications were there to greet you.

Nothing.

Your heart raced with worry, and it was difficult to not show it around Aemond, now that the both of you were attached at the hip. Every quiet moment, Aemond would try and squeeze in some kind of gesture before inevitably his family would walk in. But as the days went on, instead of biting his lip, putting distance between you and his cheeks blossoming being seen romantically with you, he lingered, making it clear to whoever chose to disturb either of you that he didn’t care if they saw.

He was slowly beginning to care less about that, focussing said care on something else.

As proven by your time together on the tour, Aemond was insatiable.

You honestly don’t know how his dick hasn’t fallen off yet, or that he’s not on some kind of blood pressure medication, by the way he enjoys fucking you into oblivion any spare, quiet moment he gets. Not that it’s something to necessarily complain about. But the more time passed, the more your nerves began to spike, wanting to desperately have him define what was going on here.

Helaena seemed to give the impression this was strange behaviour for him. With the exception of the person Hel so lovingly called ‘that fucking dinosaur’, Aemond’s conquests had been just that. Casual. No strings attached. Sometimes not even necessarily because it had to be, but because he’d shut it down before it went any further.

You didn’t ask Aemond about that.

Even Alicent had mentioned as such, that she’d never seen her son so happy and content.

So why was there this sicky feeling in your stomach?

It was still so early in the morning that it was dark, the faintest of dark blue in the sky to remind you that the sun was just about to come up. And here you were, not in bed, not snuggled in bed sheets. But skates on, all limbered up and ready to practise.

In lieu of Aemond, you shoved your headphones in and leant against the ledge on your forearms, idly hovering on the ice, scrolling through the various news articles.

Martells: Trouble in Paradise? Qoren in trouble after leaving Sunspear Strip Club with blonde stranger Aemond Targaryen and his muse. He fell first but she fell harder, our source says. Otto Hightower seen giving flowers to Floris Baratheon as she is discharged from hospital

The last one made your nose crinkle.

Course he was seen doing it.

You almost jumped out of your skin and dropped your phone in your hands as a firm, tall body bumped into you from behind, genuinely winding you as your form became sandwiched between it and the ledge.

"Fucking-" you pull out your earphones and throw a look over your shoulder. Knowing exactly who it is.

Aemond smiles apologetically, but not really that sorry, and snakes his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, looking all innocent. But what isn’t so innocent is the way he’s so unabashedly pressed up against you.

You raise an eyebrow, "You done sneaking about?"

He huffs a laugh, the air blowing on your neck as you pretend to scroll on your phone to ignore him, “Was hardly ‘sneaking about’, you’re just going deaf”

He reaches over and scrolls back up, back at the news article you’d ignored a second earlier.

Aemond grins, “Pfft, Aemond Targaryen seen bringing his lover home to meet his family” he recites from the article's title, “do you think they have any idea what actually goes on, hm?”

You roll your eyes partly as his hands drop to your hips, squeezing gently, managing at the same time to grind his hips against your backside. You can’t really ignore the heat that’s beginning to gather in your belly when he does that.

You smirk at him over your shoulder, “Shouldn’t we be practising?”

His hands still make their way over every curve he can find. His mind miles away from said practice.

“Hm. I thought we could practise something else”

You catch his wrist, cheeks bright red as he tries to slip his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, “Aemond!” you whisper-shout, “there’s security cameras!”

“They don’t work” he muses, pressing a few open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he turns his head into you, wilfully ignorant of how embarrassed this is making you, “lucky for us”

His hand slips completely beneath the leggings, expertly sliding between your legs to swipe two digits along your folds. A quiet breathy mewl slips past your lips, your backside pressing softly into his obvious hardness, knowing full well he’ll likely punish you in his own way for teasing him.

“See, now you’re all wet for me” he whispers in your ear, teasing his fingers past your folds just barely, prodding at your slick entrance, “I’ve got myself a needy little slut, haven’t I?”

“Aemond, please -”

You’re not entirely sure how he manages to do it. How you instantly turn to mush when he touches you. When he speaks to you.

You can scarcely believe you ever really hated him.

Sometimes, you wonder if it ever was truly hate.

For either of you, it couldn’t have been.

You feel the way Aemond hums deep in his chest, “But I’m having so much fun teasing you, baby” he coos quietly, pressing the pads of his fingers in tight, soft circles on your clit, spreading what slick had gathered over it. The motion has a stuttered breath slipping past your lips, your hips sinking on him, searching for more contact.

You’re more annoyed than anything that he’s having such a good time watching you squirm, and embarrassment blooms hot at your cheeks.

“Turn around”

Your eyes snap open. His voice is so different, and how easily he’s able to flit from soft, teasing to harsh and domineering always manages to make your knees feel weak.

He pulls his hand free, not even waiting for you to do as he says before he spins you around, shoving your lower back hard against the ledge and kicking your legs apart with one of his. His eye is focussed entirely on the task at hand, jaw tight and his expression completely flat. He looks almost angry, but you know he’s just impatient.

You swallow thickly as he rolls the leggings over your hips, taking the underwear with it so it hangs around your upper thighs. He’s so rough with you that even now, before he’s done anything, that his fingers leave little red imprints where he’s been.

“I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy for days, princess” he muses, slipping to his knees, heedless of the ice leaking freezing water onto his sweatpants, “we’ve not had a spare moment, have we?”

You almost outright sob in want when he presses his face to your core, inhaling your scent deeply like he’s not been between them every day since you arrived back at his home.

“ - fuck - princess -”

You press your lips together to stifle a moan when you feel his tongue part your folds, licking a long stripe over your entrance, a low moan vibrating through your core. Your grip, white-knuckled on the ledge, tightens. As does his on the fleshy skin of your thighs, keeping them wide apart for him to feast on your cunt.

You’re not sure who is really enjoying this more, but based on the sounds Aemond is making while he drags his tongue from your entrance to your clit, lighting sucking on the sensitive bud and moaning while he does it, it would seem he is.

Airiness floods your head and that same pressure is beginning to tighten up in your gut when he grazes his teeth softly against your clit, redoubling his efforts and diving down to fuck you with his tongue, caressing the top of your slick walls with it. He groans as you reach one hand down and tighten it in his hair, ruining the bun he’d had it in. Aemond takes it in his stride, shuffling closer to you and nuzzling his nose against your core, providing pleasure in both ways with the way his sharp nose keeps butting against your bundle of nerves.

Tugging slightly on his follicles, the coil in your belly winds tighter, and you feel your body sinking repeatedly onto him, moving your hips in micro-movements to increase the contact.

“Fuck - Aemond -”

He smirks against you, giving one fat stripe over your folds before breaking away briefly, “You gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks quietly, before moving back in to pleasuring you.

You’re only able to get out hard pants before finding the energy to reply, “Yes, yes…” you chant, your hips finding him over and over, chasing that high.

Aemond pulls away, moving to stand quickly and crashing his lips to yours, his tongue moving against yours and allowing you to share in the heady, exciting taste of your arousal. You moan softly into his mouth, fisting his shirt to pull him closer, putting all of your disappointment at being denied your peak into kissing him back, nipping at his bottom lip harshly as he pulls away.

Instead of looking annoyed at how clearly annoyed you are, he simply smirks, his tongue darting out to clear his lips of any arousal or saliva, soothing where you’d bit him.

“Patience, princess”

He spins you around again before you have a chance to bark back, pushing you over the ledge with a hand flat on your back. Your skates bang against the side and you nearly lose your balance, before Aemond presses his legs against you to keep you stable.

“What the fu-ow!”

Heat blooms on your ass when Aemond slaps it, soothing it with his palm afterwards. It aches there but also between your legs, where more arousal has gathered, desperately needing friction. Or just something.

Aemond huffs a laugh, managing to pull down his sweatpants just enough to sheath himself deep inside you in one smooth motion. The sudden intrusion has your walls stretching to accommodate his size, the slight prickle of pain stoking the fire that had been neglected in your belly. You gasp, grappling forward as he bottoms out and begins immediately pistoning into you, spearing you apart on his cock like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

“ - fffuck, baby - so fucking tight-” he breathes between thrusts, his hips smacking harshly against yours, “ - so fucking wet for me, always so wet for me, aren’t you-”

You can only manage staggered moans in reply, your body constantly hurtled forward by the brutal rhythm of his cock driving into your heat over and over. You hope to any god out there that he doesn't actually want a proper reply. You’re not sure if you’re even capable of that right now.

“I like fucking you in your skates, with all your clothes on -” he breathes hot against your ear, leaning over and changing the angle, so he hits impossibly deeper, “-just my dirty, little cockslut, aren’t you-”

“-Aemond, please-”

“What” he replies harshly, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. He almost seems frustrated with how erratically his hips push against your backside, with the sounds to match, “gods, you’re so fucking needy for me - just like to be properly fucked, don’t you, princess -”

Your skates drift across the ice with every movement, breasts pressing near-painfully into the ledge. Being fully clothed like this, while you’re meant to be working, feels so dirty, so erotic, that it fans the flames inside you, pushing an all-consuming orgasm through your core, numbing into your limbs, with a wild cry of his name.

“That’s it, good girl - love it when you cum for me, fuck, love being inside you - lov-” he babbles incoherently, before his own voice strains, your core squeezing him so tightly that he spills deep inside you, filling you with his warmth.

You feel his heaved breaths at your back, trying desperately to suck the air back into his lungs.

He stays nestled inside you for some time, only moving away and pulling out after a long moment. You whine softly at the loss of him, hearing the fumbling of him pulling his sweatpants back up. You do the same, covering yourself on shaky legs, feeling the thrum of your own heartbeat through your core.

He’s quiet.

“Aemond?-”

Before you can really ask him what’s wrong, his arms wrap around you from behind. It’s a far cry from the way he was holding/fucking you earlier. It’s soft and tender, like one wrong move and he thinks you’ll break in half. He holds you close, your back pressed against his chest, where you can feel the steady beat of his heart, calming down.

His hands clasp at your front, his chin resting at the crown of your head.

“You okay?” you ask, covering his hands with yours, soothing his hand with your thumb. The action makes your stomach roll, an unfamiliar feeling being stoked within.

You feel him nod.

“Yeah, yeah…fine” he says, barely above a whisper.

Even though he’s not convincing anyone, you don’t prod or pry for more information. You know him well enough that he’d appreciate just your understanding and silence. So that’s exactly what you do.

You just stand, in a comfortable silence, pressed tightly against each other.

Eventually, he begrudgingly did start practising the finals routine with you. And though both of you were pumping hot in your blood with lust after the quickie, there was always, always something unsaid. You could tell there was something Aemond wanted to say, but didn’t have the courage to form the words.

The last time either of you were at the ice rink at his home, the shared touches were electric, almost painful, and there was then an underlying hostility.

But now.

It felt completely different.

And you didn’t know what to do.

The press were onto you. Both of you, like hounds. Like they could smell something was going on. They’d even started constantly hanging around outside the security gates, waiting for someone to come out, or to catch a glimpse of the supposed couple.

Sat on the bench, unlacing your skates, you look up at Aemond as he pulls on his shoes.

“Just gonna freshen up before lunch, see you inside?” he asks, pulling on his jacket in preparation of being rained on.

You can hear the rattling of the incessant raindrops on the metal roof of the ice rink.

You spare him a smile and nod, “Course”

You don’t know why it surprises you, but he bends down, one hand tugging your face up to his to press a tender, almost loving kiss, as quick as it is, to your lips. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It has you frozen in your own body as you watch him walk away, slipping out the door, the rain pelting on the ground outside becoming briefly louder as it swings shut, dropping you into silence.

Your lips are warm from him, a deep point in your belly is also.

Just as you slip your shoes on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Before any other feeling, a lingering sense of unease rolls through you.

Larys Strong has shared a link with you.

Swallowing thickly, you stare at the screen for what feels like hours. And then a follow up email, just with text.

Here is all I have.

With a shaky breath, you swipe his email away and click on the link, which takes you to a Google Drive. Anxiety twists in your chest, feeling very much like you are doing something you shouldn’t. But the not-knowing is driving you crazy, so the loading bar at the top of the screen somewhat aggravates you, impatience humming in your blood.

Two folders.

_Floris Baratheon Incident

And one with your name.

With shaky thumbs, you decide to click on Floris’ first.

Several screenshots of conversations, email exchanges, text messages, even a voice message.

Do something to her skates.

O.H

You immediately recognise the phone number as his.

Otto Hightower sabotaged Floris Baratheon.

Your breath is stuck in your throat, dread rising with the anxiety.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He had not only wanted Floris out. He was willing to physically harm her, pay someone else to do it, so that her contract would be broken.

The voice recording is largely muffled, making you press the speaker side of your phone right to your ear. But from the sounds of it, it’s Otto.

“I know it’s good to have a Baratheon on our side of the competition, but Floris is nowhere near good enough to launch Aemond into the Olympics. While she likes him, he doesn’t like her. We need some kind of…integrated relationship if we’re going to convince the judges. There’s nobody there on our side anymore, since Viserys died”

He goes on, the recorder muffled. Perhaps in someone’s pocket.

“I can’t break her contract without paying her. She needs to be gone, as soon as possible”

The tone of his voice. Talking about Floris like she’s not a person, makes your blood run cold.

And that’s all there is in that folder. Such a short conversation, like they were just talking about the weather, but really they were planning on how best to ruin a young girl’s life, career and hobby. All for the sake of not paying her because they didn’t like her chemistry with Aemond…

Which begs the question.

Why you?

You don’t really want to admit how sick it makes you feel to see how many things there are in the folder titled with your name. It feels…intrusive. Like people know secrets about you that you, or even Rhaenys, doesn't even know.

After all figure skating isn’t just a career, it’s what you love.

You don’t want them to ruin that for you.

You can feel your breath pick up, hot tears sitting behind your eyes, and the beginnings of a migraine slipping into your head. Low background.

Bad circumstances.

Is that really all you were? A fucking pity choice?

Not because you were just good at what you did?

Not just because they wanted your skills.

But because they wanted to raise someone they deemed lesser to their level, for sympathy votes.

Bile rises in your throat at that.

Everything had been meticulously planned. Every movement. Every placement.

Everything.

The magic of that first night with Aemond feels ruined.

You feel preyed upon. By Otto and whoever he was collaborating with to make this happen, as if they were right there listening against the door and taking turns looking through the keyhole.

And then Otto’s words almost a week prior…

‘It is just business. Aemond knows this’

Surely…he couldn’t have been in on this the whole time.

Right?

You grip your phone tightly, hearing the case crack in your grip.

There is…humiliation. Betrayal.

But also anger.

You don’t even register the hammering of rain against your face as you stride past the garden, clad only in the exercise clothes you had been in all morning. By the time you’ve slid the doors forcefully aside, your hair is half-soaked, your leggings as well, blood feeling like fire with the anger that courses through you.

You know he's here tonight.

He's always lurking about somewhere.

You push the doors to the library open, the oak banging against the doorframe with a rattle. Otto looks up from his desk with surprise, with an expression that immediately reminds you of the subtle, yet annoying way Aemond used to look at you, before his eyebrows lower and his lips curl upwards, as if amused.

"Caught out in the rain?" He asks, chuckling, completely ignoring the frown your face is set into.

Phone gripped tightly, you take your time walking in before you're at his desk, chucking the device haphazardly in front of him. The list of screenshots litter the screen.

"What the fuck do you call this?"

Otto takes one sweeping look at your phone, not really even reading any of them.

But somehow knowing full well what they are.

"Is there a problem?"

"Is there a prob-" you scoff, laughing incredulously.

If you don't laugh you'll cry.

"First of all, fucking sabotaging Floris' skates?" You throw the words at him, "she could be permanently injured! Her career could be-"

"She had no career" he interrupts, which is slowly driving you mad, "she could not take criticism. Thinks she's better than she actually is"

"Oh, and that's an excuse, is it? She broke her fucking ankle. She might never skate the same and you treat her like…well you treat her like a fucking commodity, like you do the rest of your family!"

"How I conduct business with my family is of no matter to you"

Your hands brace the desk, not backing down one bit.

"I am not your fucking family" you warn, "which brings me to that. Low birth? Common? Bad circumstances? Who the fuck do you think you are exactly!"

"I scouted you for your skills"

"And hoping that me and Aemond would fuck into the bargain. Improve his image, did it?"

"That was merely a bonus"

"Is this what you do to all the women in your life? Force them into the arms of someone else so you don't have to deal with them? So that you can climb higher without having any talents of your own?"

Otto's eyes narrow.

"You don't know a thin-"

"I know you forced your own daughter into the arms of a fucking judge, and she faced the repercussions.

I know you forced Helaena to skate with Aegon, even though she'd be happier doing Singles. But she's too nice for her own good to really hate you for it.

And I know, you forced me to work with Aemond, just hoping, just praying, I'd be stupid enough to throw myself at him. You must have been shaking in your fucking boots when he didn't like me at first"

Otto seems more than anything to be annoyed that you've interrupted him.

"And what do your grandsons get? Aegon fucking hates skating and Aemond-" you scoff, "-he was emotionally abused by a woman decades his senior and you forced him to talk to her"

Otto is quiet.

"Gods forbid Daeron ever chooses to compete professionally. He's the only one who doesn't hate you yet"

Otto stands quickly, brushing your phone back towards you.

"If you release those screenshots my lawyers will destroy you" he warns, "you'll never be signed again, and you'll certainly never make the championships again, I'll make sure of that"

Your mouth opens to bark back.

"And you'll never see Aemond again"

But that makes you freeze and go cold all over. And it might not be the rain sticking to your clothes.

"No contact. Nothing"

You swallow thickly, clenching your fists. Anxiety and fear rolling through you. Your heart drops into your stomach. And Otto wears a victorious grin, which only serves to make you want to vomit.

"You used me for fucking pity" you say, voice strained, trying desperately not to cry.

"And I made you a champion," he responds coolly.

Is that all he ever fucking thinks about?

Winning?

Even at the cost of his family hating him?

"I'm not entertaining this"

Otto chuckles, "You are bound by the terms of our contract. And I'm sure there's plenty of…other reasons why you'd want to stay anyway"

How could he weaponise Aemond at you like this…

You take several steady breaths.

"Fuck you. And fuck your contract"

"What the hell's going on?"

You swing around quickly, heart dropping at the sound of Aemond's voice. He stands against the doors, looking worriedly between the two of you, his eye wide and concerned. The ends of his hair are wet from the shower you suppose he's just taken, looking much better than you, as the rain drying on you makes your hair frizz up.

Wound tightly with both anger and betrayal, laughing is the only thing you find the effort to do, confusing both the men in the room.

"Yes, why don't you tell Aemond what you've just told me?" You smile, eyes filled with tears in Otto's direction, snatching your phone from the table just as he's about to do the same.

"It is no concern of yours, Aemond" Otto replies distantly.

"If it concerns her then it does concern me"

When Aemond says that, any warmth associated with the affection you have for him turns to dust. Just the sheer weight of the situation makes your body feel like lead, incapable of letting any light in.

"I can't fucking stay here, not with him" you shake your head, the situation entirely overwhelming, trying to just get as far away from Otto Hightower as possible.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Baby - please -" Aemond crowds you, intending to help, his hands on your arms to try and make you just talk to him. His features are set in worry. It's somehow endearing.

But with everything that's happened it just feels like too much, like the walls are closing in on you. Like one touch and you'll explode.

"Please, Aemond, I can't stay here after all he's -"

You don't even have the strength to finish the sentence before floods of tears pour down your cheeks, your throat tightening up.

How you even find the energy to swing the front door open is beyond you.

The last thing you see before walking away from the Targaryen House, is Aemond in the doorway, looking out at you walking through the rain. He wears a look of sadness and panic.

You only briefly hear the echo of Alicent berating someone deep within the house, her malicious, emotional screams bouncing off the walls. You see Helaena, joining Aemond's side, her face sullen. And Aegon, sat in an armchair, looking not at all surprised at the situation, with his hands clasped in his lap.

You can't pretend it doesn't hurt your heart to leave. But you simply cannot be in the same vicinity as Otto right now before doing something you regret.

Without Arryk or Criston's car, you're resigned to walk in the pouring rain to the security gate. Almost not minding the rain compared to what's going to happen.

The press, waiting outside with their raincoats on, all scramble to their feet. Camera flashes clicking loudly against your ears, crowding your space even further, uncaring of personal space. Microphones and voice recorders join them a moment later, accompanied by a waterfall of questions.

With Aemond, he could work the press easily, paving a path wherever he went by virtue of his position in the industry. But now, by yourself, it pains your chest like a stab straight to the heart, the notion that now, as you fight off the press to pave your own escape, tears rolling down your face, that you are very much alone.

"The number you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later"

You choke on your own tears and breath. Four times you've called El, to ask if it's okay to come back to the flat you used to share.

Your mind was so blurry, and messy, you'd forgotten she was on holiday with her family. The annual Baratheon get-together. And perfect weather for it too.

For a brief moment, you're almost mad she's not here.

But know that it's just because how utterly lonely you feel, and she'd always been there before to offer a shoulder to cry on. An instant ramen to make. A shitty movie to put on. All to make you feel better.

In the rain, everything looks different, but especially through the misty gaze of the tears that glaze your eyes.

You bend down to slip the spare key from under the doormat, relieved it's still there. She'd probably forgotten about it anyway. It takes a few genuine tries with your rain-slick hands to get the key into the door, but you manage.

Only to be hit immediately with the nostalgic smell of your apartment.

It'd been so long.

It makes you want to cry even harder. It feels warm. Not at all the cavernous, marble, almost clinical feel of the Targaryen House. But cosy, comforting, like a big warm hug, despite nobody being in.

It smells like those Fresh Cotton candles she loves, the basic bitch.

You laugh sadly at that.

You miss her.

The normality. Her late night voice memos. You miss all of it, before everything became so complicated.

Even though you have the whole flat at your disposal, you can't find the energy to do anything useful like cook or shower.

So with rain soaked clothes, sticking uncomfortably to your skin, you just curl up on the sofa, the TV turned down low, just as a means of filling the silence. You almost don't want to go into your room. Seeing it all empty will just upset you even more.

You ignore the frequent buzz of your phone on the sofa, pulling the blanket up to your chin, just entirely numb.

The rain taps incessantly on the window, the way it hits the concrete with such velocity has a faint mist rising from the streets. It's all so grey outside, with only the hum of passing cars and their warm headlights to fill the colourless space as the sun, hidden behind endless clouds, gives way for darkness.

You sigh, feeling your throat tickle with the onset of a cold, probably from walking home in the torrential downpour.

It's so quiet you barely hear it. And the third time it happens you furrow your brows and look over at the door.

Perhaps El wasn't able to go after all?

You wipe your face, striding over the fallen blanket piled on the floor, with no energy to pick it up, and shuffle to the door, undoing all three locks that you and El had installed after an attempted break-in.

The uncomfortable humid waft of the outside is the first thing that hits you, as well as a spray of hot rain.

The second is cold.

Cold all over.

Aemond stands, or rather slumps against the doorframe, one hand rested flat against it and completely out of breath, as if he’d been rushing.

Aemond Targaryen, who hates going out in the rain, hates getting his hair wet, hates walking anywhere that isn’t necessary, prefers to take Arryk’s care even a few minutes down the road and absolutely hates not looking his best, stands there completely drenched, just entirely quiet. Rain has soaked through his clothes, sticking to every square inch of his body.

Like him, the air is taken out of your lungs as well. Frozen in place, and unable to utter a single thing as your throat closes up once again.

Aemond can’t seem to say anything either, he just looks down at you, his expression not unreadable, but so unlike him that you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen it.

Except you absolutely have.

That night Otto forced him to speak to Alys Rivers, he wore an expression of panic.

Shoulders rolled forward to appear smaller.

Eyebrows furrowed in worry, his good eye downcast and sullen.

The expression of being entirely lost.

He’s still being pelted with rain when you step forward, dissolving entirely into silent tears, your arms holding his torso so tightly, you’re surprised he reciprocates.

Everything else fizzles out. And you hate how cringy it sounds in your head, but all there is is just you two, and this moment, his arms, wrapped snugly around you, almost entirely encompassing your form. Such tenderness from him he has only afforded you a handful of times.

But this. This is something else. Not just tenderness.

But neither of you dare to approach that.

It just feels too good to be around him, to have him like this. You don’t want to think about anything else.

Aemond feels how you tremble, trying to hold in the sobs, so much that it hurts in your chest.

“Oh, Princess…” he soothes, one hand moving up to stroke the back of your head, your face firmly planted against his neck.

You wonder, in the hours since you stormed out, what he now knows.

So you don’t open the floodgates just yet.

Giving one last squeeze, you pull away, wiping the rain and tears off your face with the back of your hand and gesture inside.

“You want to come in?..”

He almost looks shocked you’ve asked, but understanding that both of you need to talk.

As if by habit, Aemond toes off his shoes before he shuts the front door behind him, following you into the warm, cosiness of your shared apartment with El.

Instinctively, you load the kettle with water and click it on, a few silent seconds passing before it begins to hiss with life.

“Where is she?” he asks, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around at all the little nick-nacks on various shelves. Not cluttered, but busy enough to feel like a home.

Your turn, having been staring at the kettle, “What?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, the wet fabric dragging across his skin, “Your flatmate. El, right?”

How did he remember that?

“O-oh, um…she’s away with her dad” you reply, swallowing thickly with nerves and turning back to pour a mug of tea for yourself and a coffee for Aemond.

You don’t see it, but there’s a subtle smile on his face as he watches you, for not having to ask him how he likes it.

“Thanks” he says softly, as you slide a mug over the counter in his direction.

Seeing Aemond in this kind of environment is nothing short of weird.

Having seen him in environments professionally, such as ice rinks and competitions, as well as being inside his home, surrounded by space and expensive items, gives you an impression of him akin to a celebrity, someone out of reach.

But here, in the tiny apartment, lit with brown and amber hues, where the living room and the kitchen are quite literally the same room, he looks so comically tall and broad, he almost swallows every bit of the room he’s in.

But it’s nice, seeing him in a different light.

He seems different.

He leans on the arm of the sofa, facing you in the kitchen, taking a scalding sip of his coffee, which is nowhere near drinkable, and then leaning over to pop it on a coaster on the coffee table.

It’s hard to contain the smile that drifts onto your face. At least he’s kept his manners.

And then, Aemond clasps his hands, sighs and does that thing where he tries to look small again.

“Just after you left, Alys came to the house”

Just like that, your heart is frozen again. But instead of dread, there’s anger.

But not at him.

“Why?” you ask, warming your hands with the mug.

Aemond shrugs, not meeting your gaze, “Probably to cash in on whatever petty shit she can get her grubby hands on”

You’re glad he speaks about her with some level of aggression. She deserves more than that.

"She probably saw the articles. Pictures of you leaving. Thought she might be able to worm her way back in somehow now that Otto is on his ass" he adds.

Fuck. They work fast.

Maybe it's for the best you didn't check your phone. It's probably Rhaenys, wondering what the fuck is going on.

Brief embarrassment runs sharply through you.

He takes a breath, “Otto told us everything”

You raise an eyebrow, “us?”

He nods, “All of us. Mum. Aeg, Hel”

You blink, your throat feeling sore from not letting the emotion out, keeping it bottled inside until you have the answers you want.

The answers you need.

“Did you know?” you ask, voice wavering. Feeling awful for even suggesting it.

Aemond looks up at that, his mismatched blue eyes reflecting the warm amber light of the room.

“I knew…that he was scouting, and had his eye on you to replace Floris” he answers slowly, watching your face, careful about his words, “but, honestly, that’s it, baby, I promise”

The term of endearment has your tummy doing a tiny backflip.

You let that absorb for a moment. Grateful that Aemond is affording you the silence for it.

Clearing your throat, “But you didn’t know why?”

He shakes his head once.

“I hate to ask it, it’s just becau-”

“Because I said all that shit about, class and…who you were, I know” he interrupts, but with a voice that softens, “and I understand why you’d assume that I knew”

He stands, taking short, careful steps towards you, his fingers playing with each other, “But I promise, I didn’t know…any of that shit. I admit, I could have done more, and I could have been better to you from the beginning, and protected you from all this.

And I’m sorry for that”

You look up at him, breath hitching for a moment having not realised how close he is.

“And I will always be sorry for it” he adds, discreetly reaching for your hands.

His gaze is downcast, looking at your hands in his.

“There’s so much I need to tell you”

You realise that this isn’t just going to naturally occur.

That he is asking for you to listen to him. That for so long, nobody bothered to ask how he was, or how he was dealing with everything. The abuse from Alys. The chronic pain.

Nobody had ever really asked him.

And after everything, how could you not?

He at least deserved to get it all off his chest.

“Let’s sit down, okay?”

You sit on the sofa, nibbling on your thumbnail as Aemond speaks, surprisingly animated, and without hardly taking a breath. Only doing so every now and then to sip the rapidly cooling coffee.

He starts essentially from the beginning. The situation with this father. The absentee. Who couldn’t give a shit about the four children he had with Alicent if he tried. Often he forgot their names and pretended sometimes, as if they didn’t exist. Eventually, Alicent was not exempt from this behaviour.

You learn that this ‘friend’ Alicent was referring to so lovingly when you returned from the semi-finals, was in fact Aemond’s older half-sister, Rhaenyra. He explains as much as he can from his own perspective, tagging it all off with ‘well, how would you feel if your best mate started getting it off with your dad?’.

Point taken.

Rhaenyra never went professional. She moved abroad, remarried, had more children.

But not before kicking the wasp’s nest, as Aemond put it.

You, of course, know of Jace, being friendly with him and seeing him every now and then, practically in the same line of work. But even less about his younger brother, Luke, since he was several years younger and still unsure about the industry.

After all, once you're in, you're in.

But you didn’t realise that Aemond was related to them in some capacity.

And that when they were all children, having grown up together, after a largely innocent duel using fake, wooden swords, Luke, no more than a child who didn’t know any better, bought an actual knife. A steak knife, no less. One that Aemond vividly remembers, as the serrated blade tore through his skin after a scuffle.

Of course, Aemond knew it was accidental, but that wasn’t exactly the first thought running through his mind at the age of 10.

Rhaenyra paid the medical bills and swiftly left the country on the first flight out, but not before some choice words were had between her and Alicent first.

It sounds spectacularly messy.

And Aemond had been stuck in the middle of all of it. Having lost sight in his left eye, a scar lining his face, spent weeks in hospital without his own father there and a new chronic condition as a result.

No wonder he’d felt so alone.

Like any of the siblings, figure skating was impressed on them from an early age. And Otto, as per Aemond’s explanation, had jumped at the opportunity when Aemond was doing well despite not having sight in one eye. So much so, that he’d spent a large part of his formative years just competing. Not doing things that a normal teenager would do.

Having to grow up far too quickly.

He’d started wringing his hands at this point in the story. The tell-tale rolling of his shoulders forward and his leg bouncing with nerves.

“I regret the day I arrived in Harrenhal. Shit ice rink anyway”

Enter. Alys Rivers.

By his description, she’d clocked him the moment she saw him. Even now, he says, he does a double take whenever he sees a woman with long black hair, his heart going fast.

He doesn’t go too in-depth. Only that she made him feel validated at first, said all the right things.

Did all the right things as well.

But he wasn’t ashamed to admit that. He was more ashamed at how much he had bought into it all those years ago. How she’d attempted to make herself like a barrier between him and his family, especially Alicent, and for a long while, it had worked. He hadn’t stepped into the Targaryen house for months, spending every waking moment with Alys and only Alys any moment he could get.

What shocked you the most, was how it managed to last even six months.

He had said that she’d been his first sexual partner, and that she used that against him multiple times but he never really saw it until afterwards. Said that ‘she was the only one who was going to love him. Because she loved him unconditionally, despite his deformity’.

That made you feel ill.

How could she say something like that?

It had all ended quite forcefully. Otto had discovered that Alys had managed to get a hold of Aemond’s bank details, taking little bits and pieces from the shared company account, before getting too ahead of herself, and withdrawing large chunks at a time. Eventually exposing her long-standing behaviour.

For a while, Aemond tried to justify it. Saying they were gifts.

It was only when he returned home and Alicent broke down crying, that he said he’d finally sobered up, after months of being forcefully drunk on Alys Rivers.

Otto was less sympathetic. Urging him that ‘as a man, it is your responsibility to deal with this on your own’.

“He knew the pregnancy thing was bullshit…” Aemond carried on, the blanket somehow ending up on his lap, shared between you, “...but she was trying anything and everything to shake the allegations that she was ever stealing from us, from me, rather”

He sighs.

“She just wanted to get anything she could out of me” he adds, his voice wavering, “and she would’ve done…’til there wasn’t any of me left”

You shake your head, “Otto was cruel making you talk to her”

Aemond swallows visibly, moving his shoulders at the memory.

“I said I’d cut off ties with Otto as soon as I can”

Your eyebrows raise, the empty mug almost falling out of your lap.

“What?” you half-shout, “Aemond, I-I don’t want you to just do this because of-”

“It’s not just that, it’s fucking - it’s everything he’s done to us” he adds, his gaze meeting yours, as if to emphasise, to make real everything he is saying, “-everything he’s done to me. Aeg. Even Mum…”

You can tell by the way he trails off, that it’s a sore subject. Perhaps one broached many times, but never resolved.

He fucking loves his mother so much. Empathises with her pain like he shares in it. Sometimes his long, sad expression, reminds you of how she often looks.

“I’ve wanted to for a long time” he mutters, “I fucking hated you for it then, but you were right, I never liked it. I just did it because I thought it would…achieve something, I don’t know”

You know what he means but daren’t not say it.

He thought that pursuing it professionally would buy his love. Both his father, then Otto.

One he’s not had from any male figure in his life.

You swallow over the lump in your throat. It must be so much weight on him. And it shows, in how light he looks even now, telling you the very bare minimum.

“What he did to you was the last straw…”

Your eyes flit up, to meet him. That same rolling feeling spreads over your tummy, like opening the curtains on a sunny, summer morning and bathing yourself in light.

His look right now is both intense and soft at the same time. Willing you to believe him in case there’s any indication that you don’t.

“...Mum was in floods of tears when she found out. Said you were good and kind. That you never judged us. Never judged her” he adds, words breaking with emotion in between.

You huff, playing with your fingers "high praise then" you joke.

But he smiles despite it, “...she loves you, you know”

That cracks a smile from you. The first one in hours. Your cheeks burn from the tears and rain on it, and yet it feels nice. You watch with barely-concealed, softened joy as Aemond cracks his own smile, one side of his lips turned up just ever so slightly, in his classic Aemond-esque sort of way.

You wouldn’t trade that smile for the world.

“I do too”

Air is sucked from your chest, mouth entirely dry, as the sheer heft of what he’s said begins to sink in.

Did he really just say that?

Am I in a fever dream?

He nods, "I think I have for a while"

You want to speak, to hug, to kiss him, but nothing will come out. Your body won’t move in accordance with your brain, and your hands get pins and needles all of a sudden. Without you realising, warmth seems to have made its way down your face, dripping off your jaw.

All the while, Aemond just sits there, watching your reaction.

Fuck.

You love him too.

And before you even know it, in place of words, your lips are pressed desperately against each other, hands clamouring for any bit of clothing or skin you can find. Aemond groans as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss and allowing tongues and teeth to wrestle against each other. His hands cup your ass as he tugs you over his lap, breathing heavily into your mouth with each break for air.

Instinctually, your hips grind on him, feeling him harden instantly beneath the damp sweatpants, your hand reaching down to stroke his length to full mast with your palm.

His hands are everywhere. Thighs, waist, breasts, tangled in your hair. While his lips map out your entire body where he can from this angle, leaving marks with his teeth over the column of your neck, still rippled to attention from goosebumps. You squeeze around him with your thighs, directing all your want into just that movement, to tell him how much you need him.

“Bedroom” he breathes, “where?”

You answer as your hands dip beneath his shirt, smoothing over his tacky skin, feeling his muscles contract.

“Down the hall, first right, but there’s no bed sheet-” you gasp as he lifts you, pressing needy, open kisses to your swollen lips.

“I don’t need fucking bed sheets for what I’m about to do to you”

Aside from when he deposited you on the bed, the mattress squeaking comically, making you look at each other and giggle like two little love-sick teenagers, Aemond is entirely soft, tender, taking his time like this is the last moment he’ll ever get to properly be with you.

Even the act of undressing is painfully slow and sensual, despite the clear hunger in both of your gazes. Everything he does now, has your stomach fluttering pleasantly. Irreversibly.

And it’s something you’ll never get sick of.

He was never one for making too much noise in bed. But here, as his cock pistons into your desperate heat over and over, your former bedroom alight and hot with sex, Aemond whimpers, whines and groans, depending on what’s going on, right against the crook of your neck. One hand on your throat, his fingers encircling it and tightening the closer he gets to the height of his bliss, pleasantly robbing your brain of just the right amount of air to feel like you’re floating.

Your orgasm builds embarrassingly fast, from everything, the heat of the moment, him.

And doing this knowing he really wants to.

Nearing the peak of your pleasure, his thumb snakes between you and rubs your clit in tight, careful circles, hurtling you towards the precipice. All while his pelvis smacks with the sound of your arousal against yours, with your legs pulled tightly around him, and his grip not letting go.

With each thrust of his cock into you, he kisses your neck, and utters.

“I love you”

Then your jaw.

“I love you”

And finally your lips, just as your pussy tightens around him.

“ - fuck - I love you -”

He pulls his head up to look down at you just in time to watch as you fall apart, white-hot pleasure running like fire in your veins as your pussy flutters around his cock, taking him over the edge with you. His hooded, lusty gaze focussed entirely on you, until his brows furrow himself, lips hanging apart only slightly, as he finishes deep inside you.

The only sound is hurried breaths, and every now and then the mattress squeaking as a result of only the tiniest of movements.

Aemond huffs, leaning up on his elbows, the chain slipping out beneath his shirt and dangling in your face, the chill of the metal against your chest making you shudder. His hair, already having been ruined by the rain, hangs in lazy wavy strands around his face.

An exhausted breathy laugh falls out his mouth, his warm hand making its way back up to your face, sighing as he sees you lean your cheek into it.

He looks so perfect like this, is the first thing that comes to mind.

But the words that come pouring out your mouth are completely and entirely natural.

Really, the point of no return.

The only moment Aemond Targaryen remembers of his life before loving you, is when you say so clearly, with such devotion, adoration and care.

“I love you too”

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514

603 notes · View notes

san8ny · 8 months ago

Text

Figure it out?

an: Maria is very condescending, reader cant stand on SHITTT, slight tommy slander, maria eats ur box idk

req: @fleshunger

It’s been days.

A week to be exact.

7 whole days that you’ve been sitting at the phone, wallowing as you twirl the cord mindlessly around your fingers.

She said she’d call. She wouldn’t lie, I mean, she said she’d send something over as a telling that he’d be gone for the week, yet no damn sign.

Sighing, you slam the phone down on the rotary dial and kick your feet over the lovechair, leaning back. She got you again.

This hasn’t been the first, second or even third time that Maria has played in your face; you like to think her job around town gives her this complex, that she can do whatever she wants with no regards to anyones feelings. That, or she really is an asshole. Or both?

After some time, (and the embroidery of the chair practically branding onto your skin) you decide to head on down to her office, see for yourself if she really is busy—

ok, you didn’t.

Lunging at the phone, you dial her work phone hastily, walking around a bit as it dials, you had it bad.

“Hello?” A scratchy voice answers, knees giving out at the raspiness laced in her usual smoothness.

“You didn’t call.” You quietly murmur into the reciever, “and you said you would.”

The older woman sighs as she instantly recognizes your sweet voice, “Baby, i’m at work.”

it’s met with a scoff, “Of course you are.”

The blonde cocks a brow at this new-found attitude, though it wasn’t unexpected, she had been admittedly avoiding you since Tommy’s departure to Arizona.

“Since when do you care what I do with my time?” She grazes, taking the end of the ballpen she’d been writing with inbetween her teeth.

“Since you started seeing me instead of your husband.”

Silence.

“That’s funny. I don’t remember you ever complaining about that?“ She chuckles, eyes trained on the plain cream wall—all while your hands grow increasingly clammier with each moment that passes

“Infact, I quite vividly remember you begging to come over whenever he left for patrols.”

“So?” You retort, pathetically trying to hide the croak in your voice that threatens to peek thorugh as Maria’s demeanor becomes cockier than ever.

“So why the sudden concern in what the fuck I do?”

She had a point; a point so concrete that it made you put the phone down all while Maria confusingly talks into it, asking if you’re still there.

So why are you tearing up now?

Were you hurt over the only woman you’ve ever liked now blatantly saying she doesn’t give a single fuck about you, or it being the cold truth?

After a moment of gathering yourself, you reach a point.

“You know what?” you clear your voice, “So be it. Be with your fucking husband, see if I care.”

“You will—

“I won’t.” You cut her off, throwing the phone across the living room, chips of dry wall coming off as the connector detaches from the wall socket.

Harshly running your palms up and down your thighs anxiously, you try to not cry.

What did you deserve to be so unloved by a person?

Meanwhile, Maria internally conflicts with herself in the office as she begrudgingly grabs her keys and walks out, unfinished papers scattered all over her desk.

she’d been debating whether or not she should continue this act up, in a sliver of a chance you get the hint and drop her like she’s done with every girl she’s ever set her sights on prior to you, but it’s only proven to have edged you on.

She likes you, she really does,

but who, in this god forsaken town, would take her serious if they found out she’d been hooking up with some random woman..all while cheating on her husband?

It’s not cheating, Maria reminds herself; she and tommy had been separated for some time, they’ve just never found the right time to announce it, or finalize it.

I mean, they’d just gotten Ellie and Joel back, set up new perimeters around town, established telephone towers and—

Fuck, does she need a drink.

Question is, if the bar is that way..

why was she at your door?

That’s the question you ask yourself as you stare up at the bleach blonde woman who seemingly tilts her head at you blankly.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

Neither one of you talk as Maria clears her voice, and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

“Well?” Maria shrugs, reaching back into her pocket and grabbing a lone cigarette, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

You blink a few times before immediately closing the door, which isn’t met with success, sterling cowboy boot wedged in-between the doorframe and the literal door.

“Mrs. Miller, get your foot out of my door.”

“Oh, it’s ‘Mrs. Miller’ now?” She taunts, looking you up and down, from the camisole you wear to the ridiculously small pajama shorts.

“It’s been that before I even met you, so yeah.”

Maria takes a few more drags as your words sink in, ultimately nodding and clicking her tongue, turning back towards the dirt path she’d just came from.

You take that as initiative to close the door, but she points a finger at you warningly, “Don’t you even try.”

After a bit, she turns back around, and walks into your home— sitting on the couch like it was nobody’s business; as if she hadn’t just left the busy office to be with her infamous call-up.

“You’ve got nerve.” You hiss, crossing your arms as you scan her attire: For a woman caring for everyone else, she barely had time for herself. Her usual put-togetherness was just..off.

Maybe that’s why she started this with you, because you’d been the only one that hasn’t seen her as some up-tight.

Maria’s low-lidded eyes drink you up, like the first time she met you outside the stables with your dad when you both arrived in Jackson.

She remembers exactly how you reacted when Tommy introduced her to you as his wife, wide eyes that screamed animosity, envy and every greed-like feeling out there.

It wouldn’t have been the first time Tommy has been chased after, I mean, look at her.

So one warm summer night, Maria decides to invite you over to help with dinner; it’d be fun, getting to know you. You arrive with some of your own cutlery and containers, smiling at her with saccharine glossy lips as you hug her.

Maria should’ve set boundaries.

She should’ve, when she saw the way your eyes would be trained on her figure as she made dinner,

Or maybe she was a hypocrite, from how she’d been using her own excuses to touch you that night.

From feeling up the silk nightgown you had on, to pressing her groin into your plush backside to ‘pass by’ or smelling your hair when you mentioned you’d switched over to this new shampoo you found.

She should have told you it was wrong,

To be feeling this way about a married woman.

She didn’t.

Instead, she took you on every surface in that house of hers that night, remembering your gasps and whines so clearly when she’d tap 2 fingers on your swollen clit, arousal spreading through her loins like a forest fire while simultaneously sitting and spreading you on her own jean-clad thighs infront of the oakdoor— the same door they were expecting Tommy to exhaustingly walk in through after patrol any minute now.

It downright was the most exhilarating thing Maria had ever experienced in her entirety of living in an apocalyptic timeline, all while being being married. The scenario that her estranged husband could walk in on her while she toys around with your messy cunt.

To say she went through some sort of realization would be an understatement, that singular event altered her brain chemistry so much so, that she could physically no longer stand to sleep in the same bed as her husband without picturing him as you, which might’ve been one of the very catalysts that caused their separation— who knows?

And it didn’t bother her, it didn’t bother her that you didn’t mind sleeping with her. The bother, was how long they could keep this up.

Until then, Maria would continue to see you.

She’d drop anything, just so she could bury her head inbetween your thighs.

Which brings us up to where they are now.

“You have to leave”

You sigh as you lean on the doorframe, shorts accentuating whatever you did or didnt have under.

“Do you want me to?” Maria whispers as she spreads her legs ever so slightly, eyes boring into your doe ones as she leans back, practically inviting you to sit on her lap.

Overstimulated and overwhelmed, your eyes begin to water up, she was so mean. How could she expect you to forget that phone call?

“Cmere, doll..” Maria utters lowly as she throws the cigarette onto a nearby ashtray and ushers you over with a beckoning hand, weak legs treading over to her as you try not to act the slightest bit effected.

You should be mad, but how could you?

How could you be mad when the older woman’s eyes glaze over as she pulls you into her arms, letting you voice your profanities and anger as she rubs your lower back?

“I love you, you know that..” She says, nodding as she looks up at you.

You sniffle as you pull back from her shoulder and look down back at her, straddling each side of her leg like your life depended on it; Maria’s gaze trickles down your body as she reaches both hands down and begins ever so lightly kneading your inner-thighs, groans betraying and escaping you.

“You can’t fucking treat me like this, and expect to come back..” You manage to say through clenched teeth, eyes looking everywhere but her own— anywhere.

Maria hums as she buries her face into your nape, littering messy kisses as broad arms wrap around your figure, grinding you down onto her own like you weighed nothing.

“I treat you better than him.” She murmurs, giving you one final chaste kiss on the lips before laying you down— both switching positions as she crouches down in between your legs— leveling her head to your mound, “Wanna see?”

You bite your bottom lip as you stare up at the ceiling, “please..” Maria licks at her dry ones, hooking her thumbs inside your shorts and rolling them down slowly, gasping at the light string of pre-cum that connects to them and your sheen pussy.

She smiles as she probes a finger lightly around the most sensitive part of you, tapping to test the waters as your hips stutter.

She’s always loved how shaven or not, it seems to always be the prettiest part about you other than your eyes and breasts.

With one final kiss to your lower stomach, Maria licks a fat strip up your pussy to your hidden-away clit, whispers of how good you taste as she lets a light glob of spit spread in with the other mess she’s going to have to clean up— happily, why of course.

“F—fuck! Maria..” You sigh contentfully as she goes to town, ravishing you like no other; Your hand busies itself by tangling inside Maria’s slickback hair, bunching up whatever you can and steering her through whatever speed you wanted.

Lifting your head up from the couch throw pillow, you finally meet her gaze, tongue darting inside and out your twitching hole. So many thoughts, yet nothing at all.

She’s lazy as she laps you up, wanting to get every detailing of your cunt before she makes you cum. She does it for herself mostly, though it makes you feel good so it’s killing 2 birds with one stone.

“Gonna, g—na! oh fuck fuck fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You cry out as Maria speeds up, drawing figure 8’s on your pearl, as her other hand holds your erratic hips down.

“There we go, there we go, ‘cmon now..give it to me.” Maria rambles into your pussy, opting to alternate and instead latch on your clit, slamming 3 long digits into you harshly.

Once you feel the hot coil in your gut begin to unravel, you feel lighter, seemingly drenching both your couch and Maria’s face in your cum.

Catching her own breath, Maria smiles, and after a while—pops the fingers out of your hole, and into her mouth instead, as she watches the milky fluid escape you and onto the ruined sofa.

And for the first time,

You notice Maria is not wearing her wedding band.

#maria miller #tlou #lesbian #wlw #tlou smut #the last of us 2

138 notes · View notes