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strawberryblue-blog · 3 months

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Gavi nsfw alphabet

A to Z. NSFW alphabet.

—Pablo Gavi.

summary: request.

warnings: yes. +18. smut, headcanon.

words count: +1.2k.

A - after care (what is it like after sex?)

He cares too much about you, he's totally sweet. He will want to know if you felt good, if you reached your orgasm, if you want or need anything. He will hug you for a while while you chat or just don't say anything but it's too touchy.

B - body part (favorite part of your body and his)

In you, your whole body, he can't choose. He's so in love. He likes your legs, your arms, your belly, your breasts, your hips, he admires everything about you.

In itself, he is quite proud of his body and how it evolved with his training. He really likes his arms, shoulders and back especially since he know that they are your favorite part of him.

C - cum (anything about cumming)

You probably use protection when he is inside you. You're are still young, there is no rush and you will have plenty of time to feel yourselves and try other things.

If it involves blowjobs or if you masturbate him, it will probably end up wherever, your hands, your mouth, your tits, belly or thighs. Anywhere.

D - dirty secret (some dirty secret).

He's obsessed with your butt, so much so that he admires it every chance he gets. So for that reason he likes to fuck you from behind to have the perfect view of your butt. He would like it to be dirty and wild, have your ass at his mercy and do whatever he wants with you.

E - experience (experience in sex)

Basic. Enough to know what you need, he's not very experienced but he would definitely try anything if it's with you. He is open to anything, you have time to get to know each other, your pleasures, your tastes, etc.

F - favorite position (to fuck you)

How he loves your butt is probably doggy style. But he wouldn't mind you riding him, since he might as well take your ass and do whatever he wants with it.

G - goofy (how serious is he during sex?)

At first he is too playful, he likes to be slow and torturous especially because he knows that things will be better if you are both super excited and needy. Once he is focused on you, he becomes completely serious.

H-hair (how do he / you take care of his / your privacy from him?)

He doesn't have too much and he likes it that way, so he doesn't shave it at all. While with you, he has no problem, he knows that it is a lot of work to shave or take care of yourself, even so you prefer to keep it clean and shaved.

I - intimacy (what is it like during sex?)

It depends on the situation, if you are romantic, Gavi will make love to you countless times and will take all his time to show you his love. If you are having sex or are too horny, it is probably wild and rough.

J - jack off (masturbation, how much do he/you masturbate?)

He is young, it is clear that he is very hormonal and in case of any problem he will have to masturbate. Besides, it helps him de-stress a little and forget about you when you are away from him, although he would prefer that you be the one to do it for him.

K - kink (fetishes during sex)

Hitting your butt (too much), pulling your hair, leaving hickeys on your breasts, neck and belly, are some of the more recent fetishes but they can vary depending on your mood.

L - location (places to have sex)

If it were up to him, he would always choose his room or any part of the house but sometimes you are not at home and he will take you anywhere, public bathroom, car in a parking lot, at the house of some of his teammates, at the pool, where be if he needs you.

M - motivation (what excites him/you?)

He likes you to sit on his lap and caress his ear. He likes the way you innocently caress his skin while sitting on his thigh also when you're wearing his clothes or not wearing any clothes at all.

N - no (what wouldn't he do with you?)

Share yourself with someone, neither man nor woman, nor friend, nor stranger. You are his and only his, he couldn't see you with anyone else.

O - oral (how does he like to give/receive?)

He loves giving oral, it makes him feel like he has the power over you and makes you beg for him at your worst. He will take you to the limit and beyond and won't let you cum until you scream and beg for him.

P - pace (how do I like to do it?)

He is young and works his body, so he is not gentle with you at all but if you ask him to, he can be delicate and romantic, although he will end up getting out of control and you have no problem with that.

Q - quickie (do he like quick sex?)

No. He doesn't like to be in a hurry, like I said before he likes to take your time, play with you, torture you, push himself and finally take you. So he wouldn't like to have to be quick, although if you are in a pinch you can have his fingers or his thigh but no more than that.

R - risk (would him take risks? which ones?)

He is a man of many risks, he would like to fuck you in places that no one imagines with people behind walls, in the car somewhere parked. He loves the adrenaline, he enjoys feeling the pressure of being caught and even more so if he is with you.

S - stamina (how long does it last during sex?)

Normally just one round is enough as it lasts a long time, it usually takes all its time so when you finish you are satisfied. But occasionally, it can go up to three rounds.

T - toy (use toys)

He don't usually use toys with you, since you never had the chance. He knows that you have the occasional vibrator and dildo but he never felt the need to use them, he knows that his fingers, tongue and cock are enough for you.

U - unfair (how much does he like to provoke you?)

A lot. Too much. He is the king of provocation. He loves to play with you to the point of driving you crazy for him.

V - volume (how loud is it during sex?)

The normal. He is a little loud when he is close to orgasm, his moans are somewhat soft and his gasps are desperate, he usually stays calm.

W - wild card (small random story)

Your body relaxed peacefully into the sheets of your bed as you tried to fall asleep but you were a little anxious tonight and you didn't know why. You turned in your spot again, watching your boyfriend sleeping angelically next to you. You sighed as you felt tired of your anxiety and tried to settle back down, you brought your body closer to Gavi's, pressing your back to his chest, taking his hand to cross it around your waist and hold it.

You heard a grunt from Gavi as your butt slapped against his crotch and you hid a laugh as you noticed his bulge.

"What are you doing, baby?" He asked hoarsely as you continued to move around to find a comfortable spot.

“I can’t sleep” you whispered, sighing.

"And you have to rub against me?" he says into your ear, licking your lobe.

"It was unintentional, babe" you try to defend yourself but his hand doesn't let you continue as he moves across your belly and gropes your breasts, making you gasp.

A moan escaped your lips as an electric current awakened your pleasure, making you brush your body against his again. His gasps became consistent as you screamed into him more, feeling his bulge continue to grow.

Now his hands were moving again and helping you pull yourself onto your spot so that you were in front of him, his sleepy smile greeted you and you smiled back at him before his hands slid down your panties and pulled you up. He caress there. You moan when his fingers come into contact with your skin and he probes the wet area, making you swallow a gasp. Your hands also go to his boxers and your fingers dig into his underwear, taking hold of his cock as you begin to move your hand up and down.

X - x-ray (how big is it and how?)

It is a normal size although very veiny and thick, although when it is very hot it can swell more than normal.

Y - yearning (how long can desire last?)

He wants you every minute but he has a particular endurance when he wants to make you suffer. Probably because of his work, he lasts too long without touching you but then when he is with you, he won't leave you in peace for a second.

Z - zzz (how is his sleep after sex?)

He'll probably fall asleep pretty quickly since sex usually takes up all of his energy, plus your warmth usually makes him feel at home. So after checking that everything is okay with you and giving you a little love and chat, he will fall on you.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #gavi #barça #barca

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randomshyperson · 1 year

Text

Shameless - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The book club forces Wanda to go to a bookstore in downtown Westview, where she meets you. Or the one where Wanda tries a new hobby and finds a reason to end her marriage.

Warnings: (+16), some dirty implications but nothing explicit, mentions of make-out, no cheating (but intent), strangers to lovers, milf-horny wanda, compulsory heterosexuality and mentions of homophobia, an attempt at the 80s scene, some angst but a happy ending. | Words: 7.525k

A/N-> I don’t know where this came from.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The book club had been Agatha's idea.

A harmless little pastime is how she would describe it during the weekly community meeting. Some short and simple speech about how modern housewives needed distractions while their husbands were at work and the kids were at school, anything that would please the ears of the preacher and the town council enough for the men to ignore the remnants of card games or bottles of alcohol that appeared whenever Agatha organized any “ladies' meetings” - as she liked to describe it.

Wanda and almost all the other women were happy to participate - and that is, almost all of them since Dorothy had not joined anything Agatha was involved in for two years now, ever since the blonde refused to visit the nightclub that was inaugurated downtown, commenting that it was not a suitable place for family ladies, and in Wanda's opinion, missing out on one of the most fun evenings she had ever had.

This time, Agatha's new invention was weekly meetings of a book club, which for the older woman, was the perfect excuse to get away from her husband Ralph and his strong odor of cheap beer and their grumpy son who apparently didn't know how to take glasses to the sink. Two hours a week to stay off chores and focus on her friends, and as a bonus, to read and discuss the literature she would have had access to if higher education was something women were encouraged to earn.

Wanda was one of the few in the quiet Westview who had a degree - It had been a shared dream of her and her mother Natalya, who wished to see both her children off to college and it was a fortunate thing that it happened before her sad passing. The most unfair thing about that was that despite her mother's wishes for Wanda’s independence, once Natalya was gone, all that Erik did was encourage her to leave college and look for a husband, the last of which Wanda eventually gave in to in her senior year. Jarvis Vision Stark was a couple of years older than her and was completing his degree in Engineering, and to almost everyone in her class, that had to be true love. He was a good-looking young man, with a good family and education, and he seemed so in love with her. With that in mind, Wanda tried to love Vision with the same intensity that he said he did, but with the passing of the years, and the arrival of the children, the fantasy dissolved into a boring routine and conformism.

Despite those issues, her twins, Billy and Tommy, were her most precious treasure. And they were also the only thing keeping her marriage on track, Wanda dared to think.

Getting a divorce, in the traditional Christian-Jewish community of Westview, would be a scandal under any circumstances. Sometimes, when she ventured to imagine being someone with this kind of courage, Wanda could only imagine the look of disappointment on her father's face when he heard the news, and the thought was soon shoved away like dirty clothes in the washing machine.

At least Wanda had Agatha. Her long-time, trusting friend, with whom she could share torments like this, and complain about slack-jawed, obstinate husbands.

And there was also now the book club.

Westview only had one library close to home, and well, Agatha had been clear in her instructions. No cheap or religious literature, she warned with a cigarette between her lips, gesturing with one hand when one of the girls asked about what the first meeting would be like.

"Bring something interesting." Agatha suddenly gave a little smile, the same kind when she managed to bring a bottle of liquor hidden away for the Saturday church service. "Scandalous, if you dare."

They all sighed in surprise, complicit for the whole thing. Some began to whisper among themselves, but Wanda knew what she would have to do. There was nothing of the sort in Westview, so she would have to leave the residential neighborhood.

She woke up on Tuesday, dropped the kids off at school, and made breakfast. for Vision, who didn't even bother to say thank you, not happy to hear that Wanda was going out, but courteous enough to offer her a ride, which she declined almost immediately. She had the distinct impression that it was a way of being monitored, and she couldn't bear to deal with it when she was already so nervous.

Taking the bus downtown, she went straight to the new commercial village of Westview. She caught a glimpse of some neighbors, who worked in the local shops but didn't say hello to any of them.

She walked until she found a bookstore, a small, old building with carts full of books at the door and advertisements that, although scattered and colorful, were easy to understand. It was a very cozy place, which made Wanda smile for a quick fantasy about having tried to work with books after her graduation if she hadn't been pregnant at the time.

A bell rang when she entered, but no one greeted her for the first few minutes she was inside. It gave her just enough time to go to one of the nearest bookshelves and run her fingers through the rows of books, a smile playing on her lips.

"Didn't you hear the door, Pchelka (little bee)?" A voice caught her attention, and Wanda turned, trying to see between the shelves. At a glance, short, red hair attracted her eye, and she blinked to find the face of a very pretty woman offering her a gentle smile. "One minute, sweetheart. We'll be right with you."

Wanda opened her mouth to say she wasn't in a hurry, sympathetic to the number of books the redhead was carrying, but in the next second, the woman disappeared between the columns and she didn’t have a chance to say anything at all.

The bookstore remained empty and silent for another half minute, but once Wanda made mention of turning her attention back to the books behind her, a ladder opened from the ceiling, and out of it jumped a figure in an apron, and out of instinct, Wanda hopped away.

"So sorry for the scare, Miss." You apologized with a soft chuckle at the scene, closing the attic in a single motion and running your hands through your hair and shoulders in an effort to blow off some of the dust. "We are reviewing the inventory. How can I be of assistance?"

Her breath caught in her throat at the image of your gentle and playful smile. She felt so foolish. In all her 32 years, when was the last time she had been tongue-tied, if ever?

You raised one of your eyebrows, and repeated the question, bringing a new color to her cheeks. Wanda broke into a clumsy giggle at the same second.

"Sorry, you caught me by surprise." She managed to cover it up, adjusting a lock of her hair and then moving her hands to smooth her clothes, suddenly unsure what to do with herself. "I’m…looking for a book."

You cracked another smile, finding the scene quite amusing. This older, breathtaking woman, all shy and adorable around you. "Well, we have lots of those." You teased, and Wanda felt her stomach do a complete turn at the sound of your raspy giggle. Maybe she was getting sick. Yeah, that would explain her body’s out-of-control reactions. "What are you looking for, or perhaps a name...?"

"Wanda." She interrupts, and you frown in confusion. Taking a deep breath, she holds out her hand. "I am Wanda Maximoff."

Despite the strangeness of the moment and the fact that she didn't understand that you wanted the name of the book and not hers, you smiled warmly and repeated the gesture. Wanda has never hated work gloves as she does now, a curiosity burning to know what your skin would feel like on hers, the thought bringing such a strong color to her ears that she needs to look away immediately, barely catching the name that you mention next.

She clears her throat, and adds: "I'm actually joining a book club and the only guidance we had was to bring something interesting." And she risks looking you in the eye to add. "Scandalous."

You find it funny, even adorable if you could put it that way. Maybe it's because of the color of her face when she says it. Or maybe it's because these college students - Wanda judges you to be one for your apparent age - are more modern than she would have been and don't bother with this sort of subject.

"Hm, I think I can help with that." You retort with a thoughtful expression, beckoning for Wanda to follow you deeper into the store and she does so only after taking a deep breath.

The columns of poetry make her bite her lip in curiosity, some of the names Wanda recognizes from her own years as a student, but it is only when you are in the last aisle with the little gold plaque labeled "Sapphic Literature" that Wanda thinks she has stopped breathing.

You do everything very calmly. Climbing up one of the stairs, and taking some time to read the titles, you take a small book from one of the higher shelves and walk back to Wanda, whose face is almost Natasha's hair color now.

With a smile, you hold out the book, but don't let go, holding the item as she does.

"There's nothing more scandalous than this for a small town like Westview." You say. "But if it's too much, Miss Maximoff, I can always suggest something different. You know, like stuff about the first war or Russian philosophy..."

"N-no, this is fine." She interrupts you, grabbing the book strongly and pulling it close to her chest. You don't know if she's trying to hide it or keep it from fleeing, but it makes you chuckle. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem." You reply, studying that face for a moment. Wanda swallows dry but holds your gaze. You clear your throat as soon as you realize you're staring. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She almost sighs, her knees going weak at just the line her thoughts take. Shaking her head, she offers you a small smile. "No, that will be all." She says and practically runs off to the edge of the store, back to the cashier.

The redheaded woman is taking care of the payment now, and Wanda doesn't notice the look you exchange with her because she's too busy sensing your presence coming behind her.

"Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, let me wrap this up for you." Your whisper near her ear makes her shudder from head to toe, and it is fortunate that you grab the book from her as Wanda is sure she would have dropped it on the floor.

You walking away is the only reason Wanda's legs stop shaking.

"Good choice, ma'am." Commented the attendant as soon as you put the book on the counter to be scanned. Wanda noticed the small badge spelled out in silver letters "Natasha" stuck to her apron. "We are also fond of sapphic literature around here." She added with a complicit smile. Wanda didn't understand why it seemed like a code for something, she was too distracted by the movements of your hands storing the book in a pretty bag. She remembers forcing a smile, paying with trembling fingers and practically running out of the bookstore, feeling your gaze burning into her back.

The bell made another noise on the way out, and with the bookstore empty, Natasha's laughter filled the air.

"How do you always find our people?" Questioned the other impressed, but you laughed short, shrugging.

"I won't deny that I have this ability, but in this case, how can you say? You saw her for like, three seconds."

Natasha shook her head, checking the cashier. "Oh, please, she was eye-fucking you this whole three seconds.” Declared the redhead, ignoring your protest at her choice of words. "Besides, it's kind of obvious by her not freaking out over sapphic poetry, isn't it?"

You sigh, somewhat disbelieving. "I don't know, people are more friendly nowadays." You try, but Natasha gestures away as if she doesn't agree.

"Your problem is that you're too naive, Parker." Retorted the redhead with an amused expression. "Women like me, experienced not old, are not so friendly. We come from different times, different generations. You couldn't go around reading gay literature anywhere, hardly found any to be fair. If she wasn't like us, she would have caused a scene at the mere suggestion."

"Alright, Romanoff, I believe you." You grumbled begrudgingly while grabbing one of the last boxes to be checked off the desk. "But that doesn't mean she was interested in me." You stated, but Nat snorted incredulously.

"I bet you five bucks she'll be back next week!" Retorted the redhead, but you only chuckled, letting her increase the bet as the distance grew.

-&-

A tense silence grew with every second in the crowded room.

Wanda sat there, almost not breathing until she finally realized what she had just done. Read. The room began to spin next. She gripped the pages hard enough to wreck the book in her lap, but just as panic was about to overwhelm her, someone sighed loudly.

"Well, that was definitely scandalous." It was Monica, and the good humor of the comment made the room explode into little giggles.

The girls began commenting among themselves excitedly in the same second, some still somewhat hesitant and embarrassed, but definitely thrilled about the whole thing. Wanda felt a gentle hand on the back of her back, through the exposed part of the plastic chair.

"Just breathe, Wanda, everything's fine." It was Agatha, who was still sitting next to her. Who didn't hate her for reading a passage from Emily Dickinson in the middle of the book club, who was still her best friend. Wanda only managed to mumble a weak, whiny yes, and Agatha looked at her with concern before announcing to the entire room that they would take a break before the next reading. Wanda doesn't remember getting up, but she didn't breathe normally again until on the outside balcony of the Harkness Residence. "Here, honey."

The glass of water helped, and Wanda had just returned it to Agatha when the window door opened again. It was Monica, with an almost proud smile, who spoke only after sliding the glass door closed again.

"I have to say, Wanda, you have guts." Her friend joked, and Wanda grimaced.

"What...?"

"I didn't know there were more of us in Westview, Aggie. You could have told me." Monica complained to the older woman, giving Agatha's arm a gentle pat. But the woman just smiled awkwardly, looking at Wanda as if she were seeing her for the first time.

"She never mentioned it, I'm afraid." Agatha commented, and Wanda felt like she might throw up at any moment. "Hey, breathe honey. It's okay, all right? You're safe with us."

But Wanda put a hand over her chest, feeling it tighten. "My god, what I just did... They will tell my husband... my father will hear about it-"

"Hey, Wanda, here. Focus on me, darling, breathe." Agatha grabbed her hands, trying to help her control the panic and tears that began to roll down her face. "Honey, it was just a poem. Nothing is going to happen, okay, you just brought what I asked for, and none of them minded. Nothing has changed, now breathe. You're safe, Wanda."

“Of course, I would ruin the book club.” was the first thought she had hours later when she woke up before the time to pick the boys up from soccer. She didn't have to do it though - Agatha left a little note saying that she had taken care of everything and wished her rest.

Monica drove her home so that Agatha could close the meeting without raising any more suspicions about Maximoff's state, who had had a panic attack because of a poem read aloud. If the other neighbors knew, it would create chatter, and Wanda simply couldn't handle that.

Monica left her safe and sound in her house, wrapped in blankets, and didn't mind staying until Wanda cried herself to sleep. And Wanda woke up alone, feeling worse than before as if a very embarrassing secret had been revealed to the world and was mocking her outside the bedroom walls.

But her children were back in no time, and as they rushed to the shower, she went to thank a very concerned Agatha Harkness.

"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?" Asked her friend gently holding her arm. Wanda didn't meet her eyes, nodding.

"Thank you for dropping the boys off." Murmured her quietly, swallowing before adding. "And for earlier. I didn't mean to bring any trouble."

Agatha gripped her with more determination. "Listen here, Wanda, it was no trouble at all, okay?" Assured the woman, who although in a serious tone, still had very gentle eyes. "You are my best friend, Wanda Maximoff. Nothing will ever change the care and love I feel for you. When you're ready to talk about today, about this part of you, I'll be here. And Monica too. You are not alone, honey. You never have been." There was a different complicity in the last sentence, but Wanda only sighed in relief, nodding and finally relaxing when Agatha hugged her.

She thanked her again between silent tears and Agatha only left when she was sure Wanda believed her words.

-&-

It took Wanda three weeks to return to the store. Not that you were counting, or thinking every day about the middle-aged woman who had a gay panic attack with your poor attempt at service. Not that Natasha didn't shut up about it.

And as luck would have it, you were alone in the store because your boss, who you also called a friend, was out picking up some orders and her sister at the University of New York, and well, it had been a slow day until the doorbell rang in the early afternoon and it was Wanda.

"You again." That was the first you managed to say, almost sighing and hating how affected it sounded. Luckily, Wanda seemed equally happy and relieved to see you again.

"Hello." She greeted, repeating last week's gesture of adjusting a lock of her hair. She looked different from before, more elegant, with a dark jeans jacket expensive enough to have come out of a magazine, and a dress underneath that made you swallow dry.

You had no idea how long she spent in front of the mirror trying to choose the right outfit with two neighbors weighing her choices.

Trying to play it cool and sound as casual as possible, you add: "Wanda Maximoff from the book club, right? Did they like the poems?"

She hesitated in a nervous smile, looking around as if to check if there were no other customers and satisfied with the distant presence of a boy in the Vinyl's Discs area and a lady further down the hall, as she practically whispered, "You were right. It was scandalous enough for Westview." She teased, managing to get a short laugh out of you that made her stomach do flips and her cheeks turn a rosy hue. It was decided, she wanted to hear the sound again and would do anything to be the one to make you laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." You retort with a little smile. "I hope you enjoyed the book too, though." Your addiction makes Wanda's heart skip a beat. So you cared if she was the person who enjoyed the reading, it wasn't all about a professional suggestion on how to make an impact on the book club as she presumed. Well, Agatha was right.

Risking, probably everything, Wanda commented: "Oh, I definitely loved the reading. I had a good time imagining the scenarios she described." Despite the confidence in saying it, she was blushing, and the way she spoke as if a secret between the two of you and with your knowledge of how erotic Emily Dickinson's stories were, was the reason you knock over half the stack of books you were trying to organize onto the floor.

The noise attracted the attention of the other customers, but you forced a smile and gestured that everything was fine before you ducked down, quickly beginning to pick everything up while Wanda looked at you with a certain amusement, as if she had just confirmed a theory.

"Sorry. You caught me off guard." You mutter in embarrassment, and Wanda chuckles, ducking down as well. She helps you with the last of the fallen books, and in the gesture of returning them, your hands rub together and the whole world stops for a second. Just long enough for you to look at her, and then to step away at once, clearing your throat. Wanda does the same, and before you have a chance to say anything, the record customer interrupts you.

It has to be the most annoying sale you've ever made. He stalls you for long minutes, and all you can do is watch out of the corner of your eye as Wanda slips further into the back of the bookstore, and you lose sight of her. To make matters worse, when the man finally leaves, familiar vehicle parks in the back of the store, and less than five minutes later, two figures with heavy boxes appear.

Yelena has gotten a haircut, and you have a moment of shock to deal with that. The next, she is making a terrible impression on the other customer in the store, the cookbook lady, who immediately grimaces as soon as your friend practically jumps on you. Whether it's the display of affection or Yelena's tattoos and rebellious posture, the woman leaves the store muttering lowly.

You pay no attention to this, grinning as you match Yelena's hug before she lets go of you.

"сука, next time you lock up the semester, at least stop at the dorm to smoke with us!" Complained your friend as she leaned on the counter where she had left her magazine supply box. Natasha dropped hers with a tired grunt, and once the books were secured, she gave a warning slap on the feet that Yelena threatened to put on a shelf.

"There won't be a next time." Natasha answers for you. "She's giving up for good."

Yelena lets out an exclamation, but you grimace. "That hasn't been decided, Romanoff." You defend yourself. "I just needed more time. I think I'll just switch vocations. Again."

Natasha giggled, but Yelena patted you on the shoulder. "Hey, don't look so down. I also think about quitting Fashion every week, and every week I remind myself that no one is as talented as Yelena Belova and the world must not be deprived of my masterpieces." The comment makes you and Natasha laugh and roll your eyes.

The redhead pushes her sister by the shoulders away from the counter. "You said you came here to work, not get in Parker's way. Find something to do-"

"Oh, sure, I'll get us some coffee." Yelena interrupts, letting go of her sister's hands. She points a finger at you. "Cappucino or-"

"Sorry." Wanda's interruption makes the three of you look at her at once. She is intimidated, but only for a split second. Forcing a smile, she raises the book she holds at face height. "I was hoping to take this one."

You take an awkward step forward, and it is enough for Yelena to acquire an expression as if she just has won the lottery. Busy taking care of Wanda's purchase, you don't even notice the sisters' exchange of glances.

As you wrap up the book, you try to disguise the trembling in your hands.

"I couldn't really thank you for the recommendation." Wanda speaks suddenly. You smile awkwardly, holding out the bag with the book on the counter.

"It was no trouble at all, Wanda." But she extends her hand over yours, and your heart stops.

"I really appreciated it, sweetheart." That's what Wanda says, stroking your skin with her thumb. "We have meetings every week, and maybe, you could join us in the next…"

You opened your mouth like a fish, babbling like a fool and completely in shock at the invitation of the most beautiful woman you have ever seen in your life. “I-I…”

"Would love to, of course." Yelena elbowed you so hard that you pulled your hand away from Wanda’s to massage the spot. She offered her worst-intention smile to Wanda, the kind she only used at college parties when she wanted guys who would never have a chance with her to buy her drinks. "She's a first-rate nerd, she'll love it, ma'am. I’m Yelena, by the way. My sister, Natasha, is the owner here. And since we’re talking about hanging out, did you know that we do friends' reunions around here? You're more than welcome to join us."

Wanda adjusts awkwardly, a little surprised. "Oh, what kind of reunion?"

Yelena sighs thoughtfully, shrugging. "Well, I don't want to call it a college party, because even though we're all college students, it's not done on NYU grounds and is reserved for fewer people and the drinking is much better..."

Chuckling short, and adjusting the bag on her wrist, Wanda denies it with her head. "It's a kind invitation, but I think I'm too old for such things."

"What nonsense!" Yelena retorts gesturing indignantly. “ "With all due respect, such a beautiful woman will completely enhance the party. And well, my sister always attends with her friends, and you must be the same age..." You bite the inside of your cheek hard, you love your friend but she is charming and beautiful and is clearly flirting with Wanda to annoy you. Wanda blushes, and Yelena knows she's won this one. Emerald eyes search yours, and you find that the one who might have won is actually you.

"Will you be there?" She asks, and having trouble hiding a smile, you nod. With a sigh, Wanda looks at the expectant blonde beside you. "I think I could show up for a little bit-"

"That's fantastic!" Yelena gets excited, not even waiting for Wanda to confirm before she ducks down on the counter and finds one of the invitations to these parties that Natasha hides near the cashier.

You barely had a chance to say goodbye to Wanda, with Yelena and her party directions, but at least you had confirmation that the woman would be there for the last weekend of the month, the typical date when those meetings were organized. And the realization had you sliding to the floor behind the counter with one hand on your chest.

"My god I think I'm having an anxiety attack-"

"No, that's a gay outburst triggered by a hot milf." Yelena cut in with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms as she approached you again. "You gonna have to put it together, 'cause we need to pick out what you're going to wear next week, on your hot date with her.”

You're as red as a tomato. "It's not a date! It's a book club!"

Natasha - who hadn't said anything about the interaction until now - burst out laughing, and teased "Hm, that's what young people are calling it these days."

"You two are terrible." You complained embarrassed, shaking your head in disbelief at the giggling sisters. "We don't even know if she's interested."

Natasha chuckled. "Of course she is. Sapphic poetry the first week, and now she comes back just to stroke your hand. Yes, Parker, everyone saw that. If that's not interest, I don't know what else to call it."

Sighing in defeat at the sisters' complicit gaze, you stood up again. "Let me get back to work." You grumbled, but still, Yelena followed you with thousands of ideas about what you could wear.

-&-

Book club sessions allow you to get to know Wanda better. And inevitably fall in love with her as you never had with anyone else, at least not at that intensity.

Unfortunately, a meeting full of middle-aged women with a certain willingness to gossip about any subject, especially the unusual friendship of the young college student from downtown with one of the most respectable ladies in the neighborhood put practically a watch on your back. All your moments with Wanda, stolen touches and long glances between snacks and reading verses for the next few weeks came burdened with the worry, especially for her, that the rest of the world could see all too well what was going on between you two.

And there was also the great frustration that in fact, nothing was actually happening. Aside from the undeniable attraction and warm affection you developed for each other, you were just book club buddies. You couldn't even call Wanda a friend, in fact, you wouldn't want to. All you knew about her family was Agatha or Monica telling you, the other was limited to any other subject but this one.

Pretending not to know or just accepting that Wanda had a life beyond the safety of your afternoons together hurt all the same.

Your only hope of progress for what was happening came at the end of the month, with the arrival of the reunion date between your friends. It was the most intimate event Wanda could attend and you had a feeling there would be no going back for whatever might happen that night.

The Thunderbolts was what the group of friends you and Yelena were part of called themselves since the beginning of college. And unlike Peter and Kate, or even the freshmen, America and Kamala, who were all set on what profession they would follow after graduation, you had already dropped three courses in total. Starting out in medical school as your parents would have liked, switching to applied biology with Peter until you tried computer science with America, you finally dropped out to work with books with Natasha. It was the closest thing to happiness, even if it meant lousy pay.

But ignoring this, what was certain about you and the Thunderbolts was that you guys knew how to throw a decent party.

The loud music didn't escape much from the top floor of the store because two years ago Natasha had gotten glassware with sound isolation for the rehearsals of the Red Skulls - her ex-girlfriend Carol Danvers' rock band - that kept neighbors from calling the police.

The drinking was taken care of by Natasha's friends, and well, it was always good stuff. There was also plenty of food and lots of weed, grown naturally in T'Challa's private greenhouses.

It was a college party, there was no denying it, but still, you went up to the roof, waiting for a woman twice your age who had a wedding ring mark on her finger.

Wanda almost didn't show up, and when she did, she was accompanied by a very beautiful woman.

Natasha also had a thing for older women and was half drunk, a dangerous combination. Since Wanda was your flirt, the Romanoff wasted no time in approaching the other one, who introduced herself as Agatha Harkness and was more than happy to accompany the redhead on her tour of the studio apartment that made up the second and third floors of the bookstore.

You were trying to remain calm and mannerly around Wanda, but it was almost impossible not to become a mess when she was absurdly gorgeous in her half-open social shirt, smelling fucking good from yards away.

As the night wore on and you both struggled to stay included in conversations with other people you knew - from Steve and his military school stories to Kate and her hilarious jokes - you began to wonder whether you were getting drunk on beer or on Wanda's perfume in your senses.

Fleeing back to the roof in the hopes of getting some air, you were about to consider leaving the party when Wanda found you again.

"I lost you for a second down there." She commented as she approached, hugging her body to the cold night around you. Your natural instinct would be to take off your jacket, but it suddenly seemed too intimate.

"Now you've found me." You returned with a small smile, glancing at her when she got close enough, only to find that she was already looking at you.

Swallowing dryly, you grew shy about her intense gaze and shifted to the hands she was smoothing on the ledge beside you. Wanda just stood there, close enough to touch until she leaned in a little to whisper.

"Did I do something to upset you? You're hiding from me."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you sighed before risking a look at her. "Agatha told me about your marriage." You state sincerely, and Wanda swallows dryly. "I'm not stupid, and I'm no good with games either. There's a husband, so I just won’t get involved. I'll only get hurt-"

"I'm very attracted to you." Wanda cut in, also decreasing the distance between your faces. Your heart simply stops and your breath catches. If she kissed you now, you'd probably say thank you. With a sigh, Wanda brings a hand to the collar of your shirt, pushing you away gently as a warning to herself. "She didn't lie. Agatha. I have a family, children, and a husband."

It was like a bucket of cold water on your head. But Wanda didn't let you move, keeping her grip on your shirt, and this was probably the only thing holding your tears too.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met." She continues to confess as affected as you are, her green eyes desperate and hopeful. "I haven't felt this way in such a long time..."

But you choked, pulling away. "I don't want to be some game, Wanda. Some secret. And I hate to share-"

"Oh, darling we're so alike." She interrupted a short, possessive chuckle, grabbing your wrist and putting your arm around her before you could move further. The attraction was almost liquid over your limbs, pulling you towards her and you gasped, pressing your face into her collarbone before you lost control for good and take her for yourself in this roof, damn the consequences. "I thought your friend Yelena was more. My skin itched at the thought of her touching you, I almost came back here and burned the entire bookstore." She confessed in your ear as she slipped her arm around your shoulders to hug you. The intense embrace increased your heart rate, and it didn't help that Wanda was playing with the lobe of your ear between her teeth.

"Stop saying things like that or I just might..."

"What? Tell me what you’ll do with me." Wanda challenges equally affected and you lose it, digging your teeth into her collarbone and sucking hard. She whimpers, knees buckling as her hips thrust up towards yours, but all you do is force her back against the edge, your firm hands on her waist keeping her from gridding herself on you as she wants to.

"I could fuck you right here, Wanda. Send you home smelling of dirty sex." You assure her darkly, your hands playing dangerously on the limits of her blouse. All Wanda does is groan rusky in your ear, wishing you would do as you say. “I bet you’ve waiting for me to.”

The smug phrase almost takes her sanity completely: Wanda grunts needily, trying to grab your wrist and force your hand between her legs, but you pull away hard, leaving her a slack mess trying to balance on wobbly legs with the help of the wall.

"I won’t be your mistress, Wanda Maximoff." You warn hoarsely, yet determined. You adjust your messy hair. "Sorry, but this little game of ours ends tonight."

Wanda hesitates, biting her lip. You hold up your hands, to point at the ring finger, reminding her of her condition and in a way, mocking her as well. Wanda hates the way she feels herself throb between her legs because of your smirk.

She thinks she would have gone after you if Agatha hadn't appeared on the roof, reminding her with a certain irony that it was time for “respectable ladies” to go home.

In the car, her friend noticed her quiet, sulky posture.

"Did that girl say anything to spoil your evening, dear?" Harkness asked in a mixture of curiosity and concern, and all Wanda could do was let out a wry laugh, one hand adjusting her hair.

"No, Aggie." Wanda retorted sincerely. "I'm more sure than before about what I told you last week."

Agatha hummed in understanding, remaining silent for a long moment of thought. As she passed a sign toward the residential neighborhood of Westview, she spoke:

"I know a lawyer. Miss Walters. Divorce specialist." She began, ignoring the tense posture the other had acquired. “Former family friend, who always said that if I called, she would give me a special discount. Ralph owns the house, so splitting from him would have meant goodbye to Westview, and well, he never bothered me enough to lose you."

Wanda's eyes widen as she understands what her friend is saying, and she stares at her with tears in her eyes. But Agatha smiles through the mirror reflection, shrugging.

"Nicholas may be a difficult boy, but he also deserved to have a mother around." She continues. "And we have fun, you and me and the girls, don't we darling?"

Wanda agrees tearfully, nodding. Agatha chuckles, making the last turn and the landscape becomes several little houses alike.

"Just make a decision while you have time, dear." She continues a bit more hurriedly, stealing glances at the houses that still have lights on. "That beautiful woman today, Natasha, reminded me of a youth I sacrificed. I am old, Wanda. Affairs are fun, but I no longer have time to start a life with someone I really care about. You do, and you don't even have to. You have a chance to be with someone you really feel passionate about, if only for a week."

Agatha parked the car, and the porch light came on. Vision was waiting for her at the door, a half-stern expression due to the exit he didn't agree with - An unusual pastime for a family lady, they had discussed before she left.

With a sigh, she said goodbye to Agatha and got out of the car. Jennifer Walters' phone card was in her pants pocket.

It could take four to five weeks of staring at the bookstore doorbell to finally see the face you wanted to see enter that bookstore. You would be surprised enough that Wanda looked even more beautiful since the last time you saw her, and that this almost made you lose your balance on the ladder you had climbed to organize books on the top shelf.

This time Wanda would ask for a book in the law section, just for the entertainment of studying your reaction when, after demanding that you wait for her to find what she was looking for, she would press a book on divorce against your chest. Wanda would have just over five seconds for you to understand what she was getting at, before she was pressed into the shelf and grabbed by the thighs to be lifted into the air, your mouth glued to hers and her legs locked around you.

The messiest, hottest make-out session she never had as a teenager, but it would make her feel like one again. Hands determined and curious as your tongue ripped out sounds inappropriate for a bookstore, until the bell rang again, and you had to part in gasping breaths.

Wanda would grab your shirt collar before you could go to meet the customer in the lobby to ask you out on a date. On the first date, you could talk about her children, about how the joint custody was going to work out, and how much time you would have to get to know each other. On the second you could go out to eat, and on the third Wanda would feel your fingers on the back seat of the car on the drive home.

Wanda imagined all this on the way, twisting the lawyer's paper between her fingers.

"Welcome home, Wanda." Vision greeted her, giving her room to enter. Wanda forces a smile, as she removes her hand from her pocket to pass her arm around her spouse for what would probably be the last hug she would give him as his wife. “Did you have fun?”

“I did.”

-&-

It's your night shift.

Natasha has a habit of closing early on weekdays, with the exception of Fridays where she allows reading shifts for all the sleepless geeks, as she calls all the late readers who come to the bookstore after six in the evening.

The day has been quiet so far, and well, you've been too depressed for the past weeks since you decided to move on and get over Wanda Maximoff.

So of course when the bell rings and you lift your eyes from a superhero comic, it's her at the door.

A weary sigh escapes you at the almost apologetic expression of the woman fidgeting with her scarf, and without giving her some other reaction, you lower your eyes again.

"Good evening, Y/N." She greets politely, her voice hoarse.

Turning the page, as if actually reading the words crammed in front of you, you retort, " We're closing soon, so make it quick."

A smile plays on her lips at your response. "Well, I guess that'll be up to you." She retorts, and you frown in confusion, looking up only to watch Wanda turn the sign from open to closed, and lock the door.

You feel your face warm from the lust glint her eyes acquire, but you manage to raise an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you came all this way to murder me."

She chuckles playfully, approaching at a slow pace while her hands work to remove her coat and leave it on top of one of the endless stacks of books in the reception area. "Is the place empty?"

You bite your lip as she puts on a show to remove her gloves, almost losing the train of thought. "Not really." You mumble, catching the other woman's brief disappointment and hesitation. Closing the comics in your lap to store them under the counter, you clear your throat. "There's an employee area behind this door." You let her know in a husky tone, and Wanda glances behind your shoulder for a moment before stepping around the counter.

You hold your breath at having her so close now, but she doesn't break the short distance between your faces, leaning in to touch the doorknob. You take a deep breath, and her free hand seeks yours in your lap.

She entwines your fingers together and it takes you a full moment to notice the ring missing in hers. Wanda smiles when she realizes you understand.

"I signed the papers this morning." She whispers it as a secret between you, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb and enjoying the way your skin feels warm. "I was going to write, to let you know, but I decided I wanted you to have me entirely."

You swallow dry, shuddering at the confession. "Oh, that's... nice to know." It's all you manage for the moment, surprised you can still hear her speak when your heart is so loud in your own ear drums. Wanda bites back a mischievous smile and opens the door.

"Come, you can show me how much you appreciate my fairness."

You feel your face burn and grunt in embarrassment. "You're so full of yourself." You mumble, not resisting the tug she gives to get you inside.

Barely inside when the door closes behind you, your back hits the wood and desperate hands tug your uniform jacket open. Wanda's gasping breaths mingle with yours as she kisses you roughly.

Her hands work at your belt, but you slow the frantic pace to something so intense and intimate that Wanda melts against you, a moment later green eyes staring up at you tearfully.

"I didn't lie." You begin to explain hoarsely. "There are three customers in the café. They'll notice if we... There's no rush, Wanda." You smile at her tenderly, your hands on her cheeks. "Have dinner with me tonight. You can walk me home."

Her eyes sparkle with happiness, and Wanda nods in agreement, kissing you as a promise. One she will never be ashamed to fulfill, doesn't matter if not even the law allows it.

#elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader

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igotanidea · 7 months

Text

Shunning: Jason Todd x reader

request: Jason comforting reader cause her friends ostracised her.

A/N: hopefully this will put a smile on the face of everyone who felt back for being rejected in any form it may come.

***

They were madly in love, there was no denying that.

But not in a lovey-dovey kind of way that was reserved only for the time they were alone and felt safe enough with the other to let that side out. It was rather mercilessly-teasing-not-really-meaning-all-those-mean-words-coming-out-of-my-mouth-cause-only-I-can-do-that manner.

However, there are boundaries to every relationship.

Especially when one of the parts in couple is a infamous vigilante/antihero.

And ever since the beginning Jason made it very clear that Y/N was not supposed to visit his apartment when he was not there. It was his duty to keep her safe. At all costs. And since sometimes it happened that due to lack of strength after patrol he just crashed his regular flat instead of safe house, no one, no one, was allowed to connect Y/N Y/L/N to Red Hood.

No fucking one.

Even if it meant giving her the spare key as a sign of commitment (but only because Jason tended to lost his own too often), but also simultaneously pushing her away by making the hereinabove mentioned rule.

Yeah… it hurt.

But she understood.

She understood all the rules and boundaries and safety precautions coming from being with him and if that’s what it took to call him hers – so be it.

So normally she stuck to the principles.

But—

***

8 a.m.

It was one of the hardest patrol he had ever had, but some kind of crazy instincts made him push forward and patch himself up at the nearest lair. Which wasn’t even his in the first place, but that was something Grayson would never know. And also- besides the point.

The fact was, though, that he came back to his official address (official for someone who was still legally dead, of course), dressed in regular clothes and without blood stains with plasters all over his face.

Planning to maybe call his girlfriend so they can spend the nice day together.

Hoping to see her teasing smirk and eyes rolling, knowing she was the one to match his sarcasm, give him hard time making this relationship a challenge for him, which was exactly why she fell for her in the first place. Or maybe it was the fact that underneath all that rough-around-the-edges surface they were so similarly sensitive on the inside it made it easier to connect on so many levels.

Lost in his thoughts he opened the door and immediately knew something was wrong.

Energetic music coming from the kitchen.

Some crazy (DELICIOUS!) smell.

And the opened curtains that make the dim Gotham light permeate the room.

The hell?

Jason grabbed his pistol from the shoe (regular clothes or not, forewarned is forearmed) and busted into kitchen, grabbing the intruder by the arm, pointing the gun to their head.

“Auch! Fuck! Jay!”

“Y/N!” the gun landed on the floor and she immediately kicked it away, so it wouldn’t fire on her leg or foot.

‘Well morning to you to!”

“The hell you doing here?!”

“fucking breakfast!”

“What?!”

The scene was truly grotesque.

Boyfriend and girlfriend, who were, may I remind you, madly in love, standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, one of them clearly in need of some loving and rest, the other offering exactly that and yet they settled on yelling their surprise out at one another.

“I’m gonna ask you again- what are you doing here?” Jason almost hissed, his own protective and possessive instincts kicking in in a Red Hood style.

“I told you-“ she became a little defensive, but sure as hell not submissive or humble.

“Y/N!”

“Stop yelling at me Jason!”

The way she accentuated the last word, his name, made him stop for a moment, groan in frustration and run hand over his face, almost poking his eyes out. Right. He was Jason now. Her Jason. And she didn’t deserve the aggression and violence (she had her fair share of that coming from men).

“Okay, fine. I won’t yell. But explain to me.”

“I needed you—” she finally whispered.

Any other guy would just melt at such sweet confession coming from the loved woman, but Jason? Nah. He was way more perceiving and knowledgeable about her quirks.

So he noticed.

Her sad eyes.

Her nervous energy.

Her feigned smile.

And the fact that she not only just made him his favorite breakfast but also was currently keeping an eye on the blueberry muffins in the oven.

“Y/N….” he said calmly to get her attention.

“Yeah, huh, what’s wrong?”

“I should be asking you that question…”

“What you mean?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t trick me honey.” He warned with a grin and before she realized what was happening around her he grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the living room, ready to coax, force or hug the truth out of her. No holds barred.

“My muffins!” she yelled struggling against his grip.

“Yeah, whatever, as long as we don’t need firefighters here I don’t care.”

He threw her on the couch sitting beside her.

“Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing really I –“

“you know I’d hate to be the therapist in this relation and steal the job you do for me, but for Christ’s sake Y/N, let it out.”

Okay, so he clearly did not think those words out.

And it was not his intention to make her cry.

Even if her snuggling into his chest made him feel like she actually needed him. Like she wasn’t always the tough, self-made, self-sufficient girl.

“Oh…” he gasped wrapping arms around her. “Shh… sh… it’s okay. I got you. I got you, you can tell me.” The mindless words were just coming out his mouth when he pulled her closer not caring about black mascara smudges on his favorite shirt. (which was old either way, so no shame in ruining it).

“Do you think I’m pathetic for being an introvert?”

“What?” he blinked a couple times, frowning and searching her face to make sure she was serious with that question “Since when you’re an introvert?”

“Jason…”

“Ok, princess listen to me. I have no idea from where that idea got into your pretty little head but-“

“My friends.” She stuttered wiping her eyes smudging makeup even more looking like a cute little panda and despite all the seriousness from her part Jason smiled for a moment considering the view adorable.

“come again? Your friends?”

“Yeah…” she sniffled “my friends. We were supposed to hang out last night, but when I reached out, cause I was feeling a tad lonely” she send him a look “they all respectively said that they are busy and tired and maybe another time.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded “I got a feeling I know where this is going-“

“Believe me, you have no idea.” She rolled her eyes, sadness slowly making way to annoyance and frustration “not only they went partying, which I found out via Instagram, hashtag somuchfun, hashtag hotgirlsparty, but also figured it was Allison’s bachelorette party!”

“That Alison?! The friendship bracelet Allison?!”

“yes! Can you imagine the audacity!? And she’s been engaged for months and everyone knew!”

“No way!” Jason gasped while they both acted at least like Hollywood wives gossiping about first world problems.

“Also, I have to say how much I appreciate you actually listening to all my silly girly ranting.”

“Of course baby” he kissed her forehead rubbing her back affectionately “but don’t tell it to anyone. Now seriously, all jokes aside, are you all right? I mean – not that I have much experience with friendship-“

“Roy.” She cuts him off with a firm voice.

“Ok, fine, fine! I’ll make peace with him!” he raised his hands in surrender “that’s not the point. You were straight forward casted out! Ostra-fucking-cised! And the fuck why??” now he was becoming a little angry.

“Cause clearly I’m a mood killer, no fun, tense, embarrassing, don’t know how to party-“

“WHAT?!”

“Jason?” she looked at him briefly “Jason! JASON! HELL! Put that gun down and get back here!” she yanked the back of his shirt pulling him back to the couch before he could something reckless and irreversible.

“Let go off me princess I have to-“

She started crying again.

“Oh god! Oh baby please don’t cry, I’m sorry-“ he cupped both her cheeks falling to his knees and wiping the tears away “Y/N, love, please I didn’t mean to –“

“There’s only one thing you have to do now.” She calmed down at once, revealing that her tears were just another trick.

“Bloodbath?”

“What?! NO! You stay here and pamper me! Comfort me!” she smacked him on the head, soft enough to not make any damage. “Jeez! How many times will I have to teach you!? A girl, your girl is crying. What do we do then?” her voice was reminiscent of that of a primary school teacher

“We hug. We say nice words. We don’t let go until she feels better. We let her do all she wants cause she’s sad.” He answered mechanically.

“Very good, Jason” Y/N teased “gold star for theory, now can you please make it into practice?”

Ten seconds later she was wrapped up in his strong arms, with one of his hand cradling her head and brushing the strands of her hair, the other on the small of her back.

“For the record, I think introverts are cool. Seriously, the hell is wrong with the world making a false impression that you need to crash everyone just to get somewhere in life? Like I don’t know, make a name for yourself by being loud and show-offish.

“Jason…” she laughed and it made his chest reverberate

“What--? Oh! Hey! That’s not what I meant! We were talking about you,, not me!”

“Well you made me laugh, so good job on that!”

“You know what on the other hand, introverts are assholes. They are always quiet and listen and remember everything you say only to use it against you later on. Like little rat searching for the hole in everything.”

“Hey!” she poked his ribs

“Oh no, princess, that’s out the line!” he laughed rolling on top of her, tickling her. “You’re the most amazing introvert I have ever met, you hear me? Life is a constant party with you and your beautiful mind, ok? So what if they didn’t tell you about the bachelorette? I mean, sure it sucks, but I bet her fiancé is an ugly ork.”

“And how is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Cause baby believe me, once you get thrown a bachelorette I’ll make sure that not only Instagram but also all the magazines will be racing to get photos of that party. How could they not? The prettiest, most amazing girl in Gotham not being available anymore! Damn, Kardashians will get jealous of you!"”

“Are you asking me something here Jason Peter Todd.”

“You and your admirable fantasy.” He smirked kissing her forehead “I’ll leave you hanging, but tell me one thing. Do you really need fake friends? You already have a zombie boyfriend, isn’t that enough for you? Starring in a “Walking Dead”, now you also want “Mean Girls?” he faked indignation “so greedy!”

“Your impossible you know that?” she smiled at him, the first genuine smile since she came to his apartment.

“Hell no, I’m way more handsome than Tom Cruise!”

“Jason!”

“What? You wanted to be comforted, you can only get it done my style.”

“Hey. Hey look at me” she cupped his cheek so their gazes could meet.

“Yeah? What is it my sunshine and rainbows?”

“Don’t stop, okay?”

“Never.” He grinned. “You’re stuck with the tacky humor and dry jokes.”

***

And with a burning blueberry muffins

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

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ireneispunk · 1 month

Text

Reunions

Jacaerys Velaryon x female aunt reader fluff

You and your childhood friend Jace share an intimate evening in wake of familial troubles.

w.c: 2697

c.w: no use of y/n, targcest but no smut, mommy issues

a.n: i finally had some inspo to write!! and it's not smut!! who is she! missed yall ♡

jacaerys t.l: @redmmmmind @jacaerysgf (open! comment if u wanna join jace brainrot crew)

Cold winds relentlessly beat upon your face, your hands gripping the reins in front of you. You and the dragon beneath you worked in perfect sync, large wings tearing through the clouds, tilting your far enough to the side for a thrill, but never far enough for you to fall. You turned your upper body around, eyes squinting in the wind, you could just about make out flashes of pale crowned with red scales. You laughed to yourself, pulling the leather reins up towards you. As you and your dragon parted through the clouds you eyed the familiar roof of the dragon pit. You felt a small jolt as you landed with a large boom rattling the ground, startling a few of the guards. You slid off of your saddle, pulling off your gloves and stuffing them in the pocket of your coat. You ran a hand down your dragon’s neck. She leaned her enormous head down to the ground to meet your touch. “Sȳz, sȳz,” (Good, Good) You spoke to her, running a soothing hand upon her cheek. “Perfect as always, Dyni.” You spoke almost a whisper to her. She snorted through her nostrils in response, sometimes you wondered if your dragon was the only one to truly know you. The huge creature looked into your eyes as her snout nudged beneath your palm. A flapping of wings brought you out of your thoughts as you turned to face your racing opponent. You smiled as you walked over to Lucerys who was in the process of dismounting Arrax. “I believe that’s seven for me and still, well, zero for you nephew.”

He huffed giving Arrax a quick scratch upon his head before meeting you in the clearing. “It’s not exactly fair! How old even is Dyni at this point? she’s huge.” No matter how many times you’d ran this race, his spirits never dwindled.

“It’s quite discourteous to ask a Lady her age you know.” You spoke, not being able to hold in any laughter as you both turned to Dyni who was accepting mutton from one guard and batting another one to the ground with her tail.

You stopped him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. “Keep training with him Luke, he’s started listening to you more which is what is special. Strength is pointless if you cannot control it.” You smiled, offering genuine advice as you made your way back to the Red Keep.

Your race around King’s Landing had not gone unnoticed, especially by a certain Velaryon. It was hard to ignore how you and your dragon commanded the skies and Jacaerys found it hard to not be impressed by you. ‘Dyni’ he thought to himself, it translated to ‘beast’ in High Valyrian which was certainly a befitting name. The dragon herself easily towered over any man and appeared to be growing larger than Dreamfyre and Caraxes every day. Dyni had earned her name from her tendency to grow unruly with her male dragon riders, killing and eating her past recorded three in less than a moon. Queen Alicent had been nothing short of mortified when you returned upon the beast’s back all those summers ago. Dreamfyre, whilst also large, was soft tempered, ‘more feline than dragon’ Jacaerys recalled the guards of the dragon pit stating. Even King Viserys, who remained rather cold towards his children with Alicent, was impressed with her. Jacaerys stood in the courtyard, back against the stone wall and arms folded across his chest eyeing the training that occurred just ahead, Aemond and Ser Criston faced off with a shield and blade in hand. He huffed to himself, every time his family were in King’s Landing, he could not wait to leave. The gates were pulled open revealing you and his brother in your riding clothes, grins across your faces and talking between yourselves. The conversation became clearer as the pair made their way over to him.

“Helaena?” He heard your giggle fill his head, “My sweet sister, I don’t believer her nor Dreamfyre are ones for competition, but we may always convince her to come for a ride with us.”

You and Luke reached Jacaerys, and you watched as he pulled himself from the wall, hands falling to his sides. “Ah! Maybe you could join us on the next one?” You watched as Luke spoke to his older brother. Jacaerys’ eyes panned towards you, lingering on yours.

“Uh- yes, the next one.” He spoke with some uncertainty, earning a puzzled look from you. Jacaerys internally recoiled at his remark. He could barely control his own footsteps around you, now he was expected to be able to control a dragon? You parted ways with the two, glancing at Jace once more as you made your way up the steps before colliding with someone. You looked up to see your brother Aemond.

“Do be more discrete when you’re drooling over our nephew, sister.” He said, partly annoyed but mostly amused. He continued down towards the corridor as you quickened your pace to walk beside him.

“I was not!” You scoffed, pushing into him with your shoulder. He shook his head, as you quickly looked back towards Jacaerys, “Has he grown taller since we last saw him?” Your blatancy earned a rare genuine smile from you brother, causing your laughter to echo the hallways.

As the two of your rounded the corner you were met with your mother, on her way to collect Ser Criston no doubt. She stopped in front of you and looked you in the eye and inhaled slightly. “Have you been on dragonback? Once again?” Her tone was short, as it mostly was with you.

You smiled sheepishly, “Well she is my dragon, there aren’t any rules for when I can-“

“Enough,” She cut you off, “Go and bathe before dinner, please.” Despite her plead it was not a question.

“But mother, Luke never has to bathe after he rides Arrax?” Your tone was frustrated.

“Lucerys is not my child, you are my child. Go, now.” Her harsh tone felt like prickles across your body.

“Yes, your grace.” The honorific rarely left your lips unless it was out of spite. You heard a sigh from your mother as you barged past the both of them towards your chambers.

The food upon your plate looked less and less like a royal meal with every prod from your fork. Your posture was slouched, cheek resting in your palm as conversation lightly buzzed around the table. Your mother’s sharp glare caught your eye, ‘Sit up.’ She mouthed. You huffed, plopping your fork down and sitting back in your chair and bringing your cup of wine with you. Your eyes trailed across the other side of the table, your mother stealing a small glance at Rhaenyra who watched the seat in which your father, the king, had sat before returning to his chambers. A soft laugh caught your attention. You watched as Baela once again had the Prince Jacaerys enthralled by her story telling. You didn’t quite know why this was vexing you, but it was. With a harsh roll of your eyes, you finished your cup and placed it on the table with a dull thud. The chair beside you creaked as Aemond leaned towards you.

“Something bothering you, sister?” You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing he knew exactly where your mind and eyes had been all evening. As you opened your mouth to speak, the pair audibly laughed once more.

Your lips flattened into a straight line, “Just curious as to what could be so entertaining, tis all.” You spoke dryly. You raised your cup lightly at the cup bearer, before Alicent raised a hand to him.

“Two is plenty, for one evening.” She spoke with a smile so weak it was almost a frown. You glared to your brother Aegon, who was however many cups in, hair dishevelled and talking to Otto about whatever nonsense he could.

You rose to your feet gently, fingertips resting on the edge of the table. “May I be excused? I am rather tired, your grace.” You spoke to your mother, ready to rid this night from existence.

“You may not.” She spoke bluntly catching the side eye of Daemon. “This is a family meal, as the King desired.” Alicent swallowed lightly, the interaction now gaining the attention of the rest of the dinner guests.

You scoffed, eyes meeting the floor for a second. “This is some family meal, our father cannot bare to stay for the evening, leaving the rest of us to sit here in some façade pretending we do not despise one another.” Alicent looked taken aback, and dare you say a … little hurt? A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you heard Aegon chuckle at your outburst. Whispering a small ‘excuse me’ you left the silent hall, not stopping to breathe until the heavy doors were shut behind you. As you stepped into your chambers you hurriedly wiped the few tears that escaped your eyes. You were a woman grown, yet the thought of how your mother looked broke your heart.

About an hour had passed, and you had readied for bed. Not being able to sleep yet, you sat beside your windowsill above the gardens. The book in your hand was barely lit by the dimming candle beside you, but you didn’t dare leave to find another. You heart thudded as there was a gentle knock at your door. You breathed lightly, “Mother I-I am sorry, I should not have said that. I will apologise to the princess and her family before they leave tomorrow.” There was a beat of silence after your words.

“It’s me.” A voice spoke quietly, so quiet you couldn’t quite make it out. Setting your book down, you made your way over to your door and carefully unlatched it. You opened it and felt your jaw fall slightly.

“Jace!” You exclaimed, his eyes met yours and cheeks flushed lightly at your saying of his name and the sight of your small clothes. You wrapped your robe across your front and crossed your arms, “Jacaerys. Ah- nephew- my prince!” You grimaced at your blubbering which caused a small smirk to spread across his lips.

“I am still Jace, to you.” He smiled at you, settling in your presence for a moment.

Despite the way you felt about him being here, you had to ask, “What’re you doing here?” Part of you didn’t wish to know, as it meant the moment could be over. You watched as he produced two cups and a half empty bottle of wine from behind his back. You raised your brow at him, your fingers playing with the edges of your sleeves.

“I figured you could use that extra drink,” He smiled sheepishly, watching you from under his dark eyelashes, “I know I could.”

A smile played at your lips, letting him struggle under your gaze for a moment, before stepping to the side and allowing him to come into your chambers. You allowed yourself to admire the broadness of his back as the door clicked closed behind you. Jacaerys wandered through your room, his eyes following each detail, each decoration, as if trying to absorb who you had become in an instant.

The sweetness of the Dornish wine went down nicely and had the both of you giggling and sharing old stories. Your hand placed over his as you laughed, “It feels like yesterday that we were carving our names into the trees in the Godswood.” Your paused for a moment realising the severity of what you had said. “Thank the gods the roots grew in unseasonable thick that year before the queen could see.” You giggled. Jacaerys placed his free hand over his heart and mouthed a ‘thank you’ to the ceiling with a smile upon his face. “You jest! But trust me, Jace, if my mother knew, and they accepted girls into the Night’s Watch, I’d be all in black and celibate right now.” You laughed and rose to your feet from the bench you both resided on. You moved your hair out of your face to one side, fanning your neck slightly. You couldn’t be sure if it was the wine or the company or both that had you feeling the warmth of the night.

“Are you?” Jace asked you, his face immediately regretting asking.

You looked at him inquisitively, “Celibate? My prince! I am unmarried, it would be improper.” You spoke delicately, with a hand upon a post of your bed, swinging round it onto a seated position upon the blankets. Jacaerys watched you confused, eyes falling down to your body as your robe slide down your arms to expose your shoulders. Your eyes met once more as you scoffed, “Of course I am, I am barely allowed to keep my own dragon. My mother must govern every other aspect of my life.” You sighed, remembering earlier today.

Jace walked over to your bed and tentatively sat beside you, his posture stiff and eyes anywhere but on you. “Has she always been so…” He trailed off, wanting to be careful with his words about your mother and the queen.

“Incredibly overbearing yet unloving all at once?” You finished for him, and he hummed. “You’re returning to Dragonstone in the morning, yes? Best not to try and unwrap the complexities of my mother if we do not have the time.”

He chuckled lightly, eyeing the pitch-black sky outside before turning to face you. “If it would ease the weight of it upon your shoulders, there is time.” His dark eyes bore into you, like they would never see you again.

“I am more like my brothers, I suppose. More than I am like Helaena. She resents me for it, but with Aegon? Aemond?” You groaned, laying back onto the bed with your legs hanging off slightly.

Jacaerys paused for a moment, “I do not think she truly hates you; she would not care so much if she did.” You hate that he made sense, though you would never admit it when it came to your mother. Your eyes met once more as you patted the bed beside you.

“Lay with me for a little while.” He hesitated, feeling as if he had already overstayed his welcome in your chambers by about three cups of wine. Jacaerys however, much like when you were children, took one look at your glazed eyes and small frown and felt his body caving and lay beside you before his head could comprehend it.

You both lay there, nothing but the burnt-out embers of the fireplace occasionally cracking and a soft breeze gently shifting the fabrics that hung from the posters of your bed. You breathed deeply through your nose, allowing your eyes to close. It had been a long time since you felt so still, so at peace in your own home. You felt Jacaerys soft finger graze against yours slightly, before you took his hand into yours and let your fingers intertwine. You stayed like that for a little while, both afraid to move and force the moment to be over. Your eyes opened and gazed upon your muraled ceiling for a moment before feeling Jacaerys’ on you. You tilted your head towards him meeting his gaze.

“I wish you were not returning home tomorrow.” You whispered, not wanting to speak it into existence.

He smiled sympathetically and hesitated a moment, before his free hand reached the side of your cheek and delicately ran a thumb over it. He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss against your forehead. It felt as if his lips left your skin much quicker than they should have, as he settled to return his eyes to your face.

“For tonight, I am here with you.” He thought for a moment. “I’m sure Dragonstone will be capable of accommodating Dyni sometime.”

A large grin spread across your face at the thought of riding upon dragon back to see Jace again. All you could do was nod enthusiastically as Jacaerys squeezed your hand in response, bringing a rare and tender night to an end.

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091400 · 2 months

Text

UPGRADE.

PAIRING: yang jeongin x fem!reader (ft han jisung)

CONTAINS: power play (?), face riding, masturbation, biting, lowkey sub/dom dynamics, voyeurism, exhibitionism, perv!jisung, switch!afab!reader, switch!jeongin.

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHORS NOTE: this is originally an old work of mine! i fixed a lot of mistakes because i wrote it two years ago 😭. i wrote this as a self birthday present for my 21 birthday and it’s based on a dream i had ;) went exactly like this and holy shit reading it back made me FEEL things.. so yeah! please enjoy and let me know what you think!

A screaming match in the kitchen woke you up.

You sighed as you put on a shirt that wasn’t yours and went to see what was happening outside your very comfortable room. It was very common for you and your roommates to share clothes, after all, you washed them together and sometimes they got mixed up, so it wasn’t a problem at all to use someone else’s clothes.

The Han Jisung vs Yang Jeongin live-action was happening right in the middle of your kitchen.

Your classmate Kim Seungmin, who was also majoring in Photography like you, subtly mentioned that two of his close friends were looking for a place to live, so after some interrogation on your part, you found Jeongin and Jisung to be a good fit for the place you called home.

And here they were, a whole year later, fighting for their lives in the middle of the kitchen. Jeongin was holding Jisung’s arm against his back in some sort of wrestling position, the older struggling against the kitchen counter with Jeongin laughing as he held him effortlessly.

“When are you going to behave, Hyung?” Jisung groaned, getting more and more frustrated with every passing second. You watched it all from the door, snickering.

“Why are you bullying your hyung, Innie?” Both of them snapped their heads toward your voice, watching you lean against the door with a grin.

Jisung didn't waste a second, instantly freeing himself from Jeongin’s grasp when he was distracted by your presence, hopping away from him with a fighting stance. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Then don’t steal my food when I have repeatedly asked you if you wanted some and you said no three times.” Jisung raised his eyebrows in annoyance, and then he turned his head towards you like he was expecting you to say something.

“What are you looking at, Jisungie? He was very clear.” Jeongin winked at you as he grabbed his food, and quickly disappeared into his room without saying anything else, brushing his arm with yours as he walked past you.

Jisung scoffed, begrudgingly starting to make some breakfast for himself after the whole tragedy he had just suffered. You walked to the refrigerator and got yourself some cereal and milk, watching how the man was fuming while making himself a sandwich.

“Stop frowning, you look ugly.” That was a lie.

His eye twitched at your words, “Shut up, you didn’t say anything to defend my honor.”

You scoffed at him, eating your cereal unbothered. “It was none of my business, chill out.” He rolled his eyes and took a seat in front of you on the kitchen table.

Both of you ate in silence for a few minutes, occasionally glancing over to watch the other, until you broke the silence.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something with me in my room?” Jisung choked on his sandwich, making you laugh, “Are you okay?”

“No thanks, I have other important things to do now.” He looked away, and your jaw dropped for a few seconds, then you quickly regained composure. Was he still mad about you not defending his honor?

“Sure, don't worry about it.” You stood up from the table looking at him one last time, leaving your plate in the kitchen sink. “Have fun then, I’ll ask Innie.”

Smirking on your way to Jeongin’s room your thoughts drifted to Jisung, he never rejected the chance to spend time with you, even to the point of canceling his own plans to hang out, you shrugged it off and knocked on Jeongin’s door.

“Come in.”

You opened the door to see him sitting with his legs crossed, still eating his food and watching some anime on his laptop. “Hi.”

He nodded at you, cheeks full of food, he paused the anime and put the bowl of food on his nightstand. “Hey, what’s up?”

Jeongin was wearing an oversized graphic tee, with a pair of shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination, his marked thighs from working out daily fighting against the fabric, showing off more because of the way he was seated on his bed.

“Hannie rejected my invitation to watch a movie, y'know, I have an actual TV.” You grinned wiggling your eyebrows, you were set on watching a movie with someone, it didn’t matter if it was Jisung or Jeongin.

“Is this an invitation to fuck?”

Huh?

You smirked, “I mean if we are in the middle of the movie and you get hard I’ll think about it.” Jeongin chuckled.

“That depends on the movie.” He raised his eyebrows with a playful smile.

“You think we are watching Fifty Shades or what?”

He shook his head as he stood up, getting closer to you. You noticed his wet hair and his bangs sticking to his forehead, he had showered before the breakfast incident probably. He smelled good, and he was looking extraordinarily handsome today.

“Well, are we going or not?”

You rolled your eyes as you followed him to your room. He quickly got himself comfortable on your bed and took the lead to pick the movie, you went to see if Jisung was still in the kitchen, but he wasn’t there, so on your way back to the room you clashed with him who was just leaving the bathroom.

“Ouch, sorry,” You glared at him, he looked at you weirdly and peeked at your open door, seeing Jeongin getting comfortable on your bed, covering himself with your blankets. “Oh… you went to him instead?”

You scoffed, getting annoyed, “Of course, I want to watch a movie, weren’t you busy?”

Jisung looked away, “Yes, sorry.”

“Then see you later, hm.” You entered your room and closed the door on him, leaving him speechless.

Jeongin looked amused by the whole situation, “I’m still winning after all.”

“Don’t.”

You jumped on the bed and took your spot beside him, who was looking very cozy with your blankets covering him. Jeongin had already put a movie on, it was a horror movie and you were happy.

“We’ll watch the movie adaptation of the book It by Stephen King,” Jeongin murmured, getting comfier and putting his head on your shoulder. You nodded and rested your head against his soft hair.

You could count with two hands the actual time the both of you watched the movie. The protagonist’s little brother was about to die to the ugly ass clown hiding in the sewer when Jeongin’s hand grazed your thigh, at first you shrugged it off but the second time you felt his fingers against your skin, you knew it wasn’t an accident.

“Are you truly getting horny with this scene?” You chucked, caressing Jeongin’s hair with your hand.

He grabbed your thigh and stroked it gently with his long and slender fingers. “To be honest, you’re not wearing pants.”

“I’m wearing underwear and a shirt, that’s how I sleep, that’s not an excuse.”

“You literally invited me here to fuck?” Your jaw dropped.

“I did not,” You pushed his head off your shoulder making him frown at you. “Bro, I just wanted to see a movie in peace but you horny gremlin and the other angry gremlin cannot do this to me.”

Jeongin smirked, quickly pausing the movie and looking back at you as he sat on your lap, trapping you between his thighs. “What are you-” He took off his shirt and looked down at you, a lazy grin plastered on his face.

“What the fuck Yang Jeongin.”

“At least are you thinking about it?” Of course you were thinking about it, he was literally shirtless in front of you, his toned chest from working out and his biceps at your mercy.

You traced your hand around his chest, playing with his nipples as he shivered, his grin faltering at your touch. He wrapped his arms around your neck as you played with his chest, scratching his pecs with your nails.

“You’re so thinking about it.”

You nodded, tilting your head to the side and watching him stare at your lips, his chest slowly expanding with each breath he took and licking his lips more times than he could count. You pouted, your doe eyes working hard and fast on him.

“So are you going to kiss me or not?” He grinned as he leaned on capturing your lips in a kiss. He was good, slowly sucking on your lower lip making it a hundred percent hotter than it should be.

Still sitting in your lap with his arms around your head, holding you up to keep you in place, kissing him. His hips started working against your lower belly, the bulge on his shorts growing hard with each thrust. “Oh?” He giggled like he got caught doing something bad.

“Was this your plan all along?” You asked, after a long kiss. Jeongin was breathless, so he just nodded sharply.

He was kissing you again, one hand caressing your cheek and the other holding your head. His tongue made expert movements inside your mouth, wanting more and more from you.

Your hands were still on his chest, making him tremble against you every time your hands caressed his torso. You could feel his already hard cock against your belly, taking the initiative, your hand wandered down to his shorts making him jump slightly, he smiled against your mouth when he realized what you were doing.

“Take them off?” He rolled his eyes as he struggled with letting your lips go.

He got up from your lap, quickly taking all of his remaining clothes off and smirking when your eyes went down to stare at his hard leaking cock shining with precum on the tip, he made a mocking sound.

“I mean, it’s a pretty dick, why are you laughing?” You clapped back, he shook his head as he got closer to you, kissing you deeply leaving no room between the both of you as he got on your lap again.

You wasted no time getting your hands and mouth on him, watching him gasp at the feeling of your hand wrapping around cock and the other playing gently with his ballsack. Your mouth attacking his neck while leaving crimson marks, the sounds he made encouraging you to continue, his hands traveled to your hair, pulling it as you jerked him off.

Between the sweet sounds of Jeongin’s moans on top of you, grinding his hips against your hand to gain more friction, you heard some shuffling on your door, it was now a little bit open but you didn’t pay it any attention, your lock was broken anyways.

Jeongin’s breath got erratic and your head snapped in his direction, feeling yourself getting wetter just by his looks, sweaty hair, and gaping mouth. “I’m going to-” He gasped, closing his eyes shut, his whole body shaking on top of you. He came hard in your hand, with a few last pumps he began to whine result of the overstimulation.

He moved himself to the side so you could step out of the bed and get yourself cleaned, you had fluids all over your arm and hand, and some on your shirt too.

But before you could go too far he spoke again.

“Come back here,” He muttered darkly, “You’re going to sit on my face.” As you were wiping your arm with a wet cloth Jeongin made himself comfortable again on your bed.

“Is that so?” He nodded sharply, sticking his tongue out teasingly.

You teased him back, slowly removing your underwear that was soaking wet after the exchange, and throwing it near the door. Jeongin licked his lips as you walked closer to him until you were towering over him only wearing your shirt.

“C’mon, sit.” He didn’t had to ask you twice, you got yourself on top of his head, getting yourself comfortable on the bed and with his head between your thighs. The moment you lowered yourself into his mouth he did a long lick on your folds, taking it all in.

You moaned loudly, damn he was good.

He traced his tongue all around your folds, alternating between your core and clit, making you jump when he pressed his tongue in the spot you liked so much. Your hand flew to his hair, pulling it hard to make him keep doing what he was doing perfectly fine under you.

Jeongin puffed air on your folds as he separated his mouth from your core, you exhaled shakily as you looked down to see him smirking at you. “You look so pretty on top of me,” He murmured, eyes glazed as you rolled your eyes.

“That’s why you stopped?” He quickly grabbed your thighs to pull you down on him, sucking harshly on your clit with a mission on his mind.

Jeongin was good with his mouth, in every way that could sound. He was an excellent singer, the best student in his university debate club, and of course, a god giving head.

Your hands on his hair, keeping him in place to continue his kitten licks on your cunt. Jeongin didn’t fight you and accepted it happily. His hands were gripping your thighs to keep you in place on his face, after a few seconds he started to move you the best he could to make you ride his face, and you were happy to comply with it.

The sounds coming out of your mouth were music to Jeongin’s ears, he speeded up his movements on your clit making you whine, riding his face harder. He was grateful if his death was between your legs, giving you head.

With a few last movements on your part, you came on his face with a loud whine, your legs quivering as he held you up in place to keep you from falling, licking all of the fluids that came from you gladly. When he finished, he slowly removed himself from under your body while you were still recuperating from the orgasm now laying on the bed.

“Round two?” He proposed from the other side of the bed, you exhaled deeply, preparing yourself mentally as you nodded.

“Get yourself hard, my hand is sore.” You joked, totally willing to suck him off and then fuck.

“Don’t worry, I’m ready if you are.” With a confused look you glanced at his cock, happily discovering he was rock hard, probably from eating you out.

Okay, that was hot.

“Do you have condoms here? or should I go to my room for one?” He teased you with a wink, and you suppressed a laugh.

“Maybe you should ask your hyung for one, hm?” He looked at you incredulously, you snickered and pointed to your bedside table.

Jeongin got to work, and quickly got the condom from your drawer looking at you funny because you had a LOT of them in your drawer, you shrugged. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, ready to wreck you. You were still wearing just the shirt, you got ready on the bed as Jeongin jumped on you, accommodating himself between your legs with the condom on, as he should.

He took his time teasing the head of his cock between your slick folds, grinning devilishly every time you complained, he played like that for at least a minute, between kissing you and putting just the tip inside of you, taunting.

“Such a big cock and no use for it?” You pouted mockingly, already wanting to get fucked dumb and stop being teased.

“Shut the fuck up.” It wasn’t just the tip now, it was the full package inside you.

“Shit, that’s it.” You whined.

He grinned as he pistoned his hips hard and fast, his hands went directly to hold your waist and the other to keep himself steady against the bed frame. It was impressive how he fucked you swiftly without losing balance, your cries made him go vigorously faster, it was like you were cheering him on to make you come again.

"Fuck, I’m close,” He panted, going absolutely feral while growling at your sounds and reactions from his cock.

He was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, his face buried in your neck and not putting any of his weight on top of you so you could bounce on his cock freely. Your hand went to your swollen clit and the other to his hair, pulling it hard making him moan, it was obvious that he was into it.

The sound of skin slapping, your cries, and Jeongin’s grunts almost made you not notice the door opening a little, making your head turn that way.

What you didn’t (or you did?) expect, was seeing Jisung jerking off with your soaked panties on the doorframe, the door was a few centimeters open but you could see him clearly as a day touching himself with your underwear standing there, gawking at Jeongin’s cock entering your pussy quickly.

Jisung hadn’t realized that you had caught him looking at you, he was stuck watching Jeongin fuck you. The hand movements on his cock were painfully slow, your panties probably burning his skin as he jerked off with them, his precum drenching your panties more than they were before.

You were in a trance watching how Jisung enjoyed the situation just like you, and how probably he was standing there for a long time before you realized. As his movements were getting faster, his sight flew to your face and you saw how the blood left his face just as fast his hand was pumping his cock.

“Hi, Jisungie,” You said cheerfully as you could while getting fucked. Jeongin raised his head and turned it towards the door while continuing to fuck you, smiling wickedly when he saw the situation his hyung was caught in.

“I told you hyung was a pervert.” Jeongin said groaning, psyching himself up to continue without being interrupted again.

“I-” Jisung stuttered, frozen in site.

You threw your head back, getting yourself back in the mood with Jeongin biting your neck. Ignoring how Jisung tried to explain himself as you enjoyed your second flawless orgasm of the day, your whole body shaking with Jeongin holding you tight seeking his own release.

“Fill me up, please.” At your words he came with a cry, falling on top of you breathless.

Jeongin snuggled into your neck, hugging you with his cock still inside you getting softer with every passing second. You embraced him back ruffling his hair and chuckling.

“You’re wearing hyung’s shirt, you know that right?” Jeongin whispered, caressing your arm softly.

“Tsk, do you think I’m dumb, baby?” You looked back at the door, which was now closed and Jisung nowhere to be seen.

You met Jeongin’s gaze and snickered alongside him.

091400 © do not copy / plagiarize / repost or translate my work on any other platforms.

#091400 #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin smut #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin x y/n #yang jeongin x female reader #skz x reader

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eekshade · 4 months

Text

hey!! sry for not writing anything for 5 months, school has been yucky, but im back!! i started with an alphabet bc it was an easy way to ease myself back into writing. also happy gay month 🫶

Bucky Barnes Fluff Alphabet

bucky barnes x m!reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings/info: letter J depicts a make out sesh ig, internalized homophobia is mentioned, Buck cries, use of you/your for reader but is said to be male, there are scenes after the hcs for a little bit but I gave up on that lol, made in my notes app so sry for any formatting issues, not proof read

A - Admiration. (what do they admire about their S/O?)

☆ Bucky loves your hands. He likes how "innocent" they are compared to his. He adores when you hold his hand, especially the vibranium one. It makes him feel all warm and soft inside. It causes his stomach to ache (in a loving way), and it makes him want to love himself.

The two of you are slowly making your way through the crowded farmer's market, somewhat resembling a can of sardines. You were walking in front of him, taking notice of a small clearing off to the side, grasping his metallic hand, pulling him behind you. He follows without question, a small smile pointed at your two interlocked hands.

Once stopped in the empty area, before you could even think of letting go of him, he pulled you into him, placing his cracked lips onto your own.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do."

He kisses you again.

B - Boldness. (how bold are they in regards to their S/O? who confessed first?)

☆ Bucky was a confident man in his youth, always the one making the first move. Ever since he started living in Brooklyn again, he started to notice the anxiety crawling up his throat whenever he interacted with others. This is why he wouldn't start talking to you, even if he's interested in you, so you would need to initiate the first few (dozen) conversations before he starts to feel comfortable around you. That being said, given that you've been talking as friends/acquaintances, he'll have no problem asking you out, it might just take me some time.

☆ Once in a relationship he is extremely bold, there are still some topics where he would be more hesitant to talk about (such as the full extent of his past), but when it comes to you he won't having any problem charmin' you like there’s no tomorrow.

Bucky lingers in front of your shared apartment building hoping to catch you on your way home after a day out, he nervously switches from leaning on a tree to sitting on a bench, then back to the tree. He only waits for about five or so minutes before he notices you walking on the pavement leading to the building, but after locking eyes with him, your course changes.

"Hey, Bucky!"

"y/n! I'm glad I caught you, can I walk you up?"

You simply smile and nod in the direction of the door. You smell like newly washed clothes, but to Bucky, it might as well be heaven. You break the silence by asking him about his day, he breifly responds, giving you some of the highlights, you two chit-chat for bit, not able to dive into much as the trip is rather short. By the time you two reach your door, he realizes that he longer can try to find the perfect segue so he might as well just go for it.

"...Well, thanks for walking with me." You smile at him, reaching for the door handle.

"Wait, y/n, I wanted to talk to you about something." You raise your eyebrows as a sort of permission for him to continue.

"I hope I wasn't misreading this, but would you like to get dinner together sometime?" His voice remains unwavering, with a sly smile dancing across his face.

You roll your eyes at his tone, but it's hard to hide the smile forming at the corners of your mouth,"I guess I don't see why not."

"Yeah, yeah," he snickers, "here." It's his number written on the back of receipt, a small smiley face had been drawn next to it, then erased.

"See you, Bucky."

"Bye, y/n."

C - Comfort. (how do they comfort their S/O?)

☆ Bucky is more of an advice guy than a comfort guy, this is due to him getting extremely awkward/uncomfortable during touchy, feely situations (and not because he doesn't know how to confront his own emotions!!). However, he does understand the need for warmth during hard times, he just opts to show it through acts of service instead.

Your thoughts thrash against the walls inside your head, the throbbing only getting worse as you slowly pull yourself out of his bed. Your face caked in sweat and dried tears, your bloodshot eyes drift to the phone resting upon the on of the nightstands, your unsteady hand grips the device, checking the time.

The late afternoon sun coats the walls in an irritable light, despite the curtains being mostly closed. You notice on the second nightstand that he left a glass of ice water (which was mostly melted now) and a note, which read:

"EVERYTHING NEEDED FOR A BATH IS ON THE BATHROOM COUNTER - ILL BE BACK WITH YOUR FAVORITE ASAP :)"

D - Dates. (do they prefer going out or staying in? do they prefer fancy or simple?)

☆ Bucky has a really hard time with this one. All he is used to are the classic dinner and a movie type dates, but in his heart, he likes the more intimate, at home, kind. Over time, he finds a sort of balance between the two, like a picnic at a drive-in movie.

"Bucky, where the hell are we?"

The two of you are currently driving down backroads you've never seen before. The road is slightly too narrow for anyone to get fully comfortable, the night sky darkening the path. Bucky has been relatively quiet, letting you do all the talking, and control the music; he never has liked modern music, but there's something special about when you play it.

"Well, if I tell you it's not really a surprise, is it?" He answered, turning his head to you slightly. The smile on his face is almost aggravating, if it had been anyone else's, you would've jumped out of the moving vehicle.

"You're not funny," you playfully roll your eyes, "if I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're trying to kill me." You pretend to study him as if trying to find a motive.

"Well, I can promise you I'm not doing that." The smile changes to softer, genuine.

The car is almost silent for the rest of the way, the soft music leading you two down the road. The car pulls into an unpaved parking lot, bringing you back to reality. You look around and see a white screen proudly standing twenty or so feet ahead of you, realizing what's going on, you turn to Bucky. A nervous grin shines back at you, he's holding a basket filled with dinner, and movie snacks.

"You like it?"

E - Equal. (are they more dominant or passive?)

☆ Due to Bucky growing up in the 40s, he does still have quite a bit of internalized homophobia. Therefore, he tends to try and be the stereotypical, manly, provider. He does unconsciously feminize you to make himself feel better, but the second he realizes, or you tell him, he'll do everything to stop, as well as profusely apologize.

☆ Other than that, I do see him as being in the middle. He can obviously take control when he needs to, but also because of his past, he loves when you take the pressure off, and take care of him.

(I can't think of a scene for this rn, and I rlly need to finish this so sry, if anyone want more about this just ask)

F - Family. (do they want to start a family?)

☆ Bucky loves kids, and is great with them, but he doesn't want to have his own, at least until he's stable. So for now he's okay with being the cool uncle.

After spending a lake day with the Wilsons, it was noticeable that Bucky wanted to say something. He looked uncomfortable, nervous even as he waited for everyone to finally call it a night. A little after the kids were put to bed, Sarah called it in, then Sam. You went to follow, seeing as it may be weird to stay up longer than the hosts, but Bucky ushered you to follow him to the back deck.

You sat on the stairs next to him in silence, waiting for him to speak, the warm air surrounding you two. He bit his lip and looked at you, studying you.

"I love you," He smiles at you, his tone signifying a second part of what he needs to say.

"But?" You laugh, nervousness now making its way into you.

"But I can't give you this." He has tears in his eyes, threatening to fall if he says anything else.

"What does that mean?" Confusion grips you tightly, his face giving nothing away.

"An apple pie life," he laughs at his own words, "I can't give you the house, and two kids, dinner by 6, it's all too much for that." He looks to the lake as if it could help him.

"Bucky," you gently take his chin, making him look at you, "what makes you think I want that?"

"The way you looked at me," he wipes a fallen tear from his cheek, "when I was playing with Cass and AJ today.

"Oh, Bucky." You kiss a tear away from the side of his nose, "I don't need any of that, hon. I just need you."

G - Goofy. (how serious are they when it comes to a relationship?)

☆ When it comes to a romantic relationship, Bucky can be pretty serious, while he is smooth/sly, 'goofy' isn't really the word I'd use to describe him. Not to say he wouldn't be funny, but I feel as though his humor is more sarcastic than anything.

(same thing as before)

H - Hugs. (how do they hug?)

☆ I imagine Bucky's skin to be cold, so that transfers to his hugs, but he's cold like a soft breeze on a hot beach. His hugs would also be very firm because of obvious reasons. If he's in an emotional mood, they may be slightly too hard, but never enough to hurt you.

You shiver slightly as his arms wrap around your frame, his head resting upon your shoulder. You two stay like that for a moment before he shifts his head into the crook of your neck, leaving a chaste kiss on it before planting his nose to touch your skin; eyelashes softly tickling you as he blinks.

"I miss you."

I - Interests. (what Interests do they want to share with their S/O?)

☆ Bucky's a fucking nerd, his main interests being motorcycles, fantasy novels (reading in general), folklore, and ancient history.

Bucky smiled widely as he firmly gripped some obscure fantasy novel with a dragon on the cover, unintentionally waving it around. He's excitedly explaining the novel to you, about how well written the book is, about how interesting the character dynamics are, and so on. You mirror his smile as you watch him talk, hanging on to every word that falls off his tongue.

You stand, your smile never wavering as you walk toward him, he stops talking, confused. Once you reach him, you pull him into your grasp, kissing his cheek, holding him close.

"What?" His voice lacking confidence, his smile now unsure.

"Keep talking." You mumble into him, "I like it when you talk." He grins and continues his rant.

J - Jealousy. (do they get jealous?)

☆ He can get jealous, this is do to his trust issues, but he's mature enough that he won't be a bitch about it unless you want him to, he'll just talk to you, and the two of you will work through it one way or another. He does get rather clingy when jealous, though, wanting to touch you in some way.

You and Bucky are currently at your workplace, your boss decided in order to boost morale that a company party was needed, and you (thankfully) convinced Bucky to go, promising it'll be quick.

Both of you were chatting with one of your work friends when they asked you to come help them get refreshments, leaving Bucky alone with their spouse. Bucky wanted to be nice, he did, but the spouse would not stop going on and on about some shit Bucky had never even heard of. So, naturally, his eyes wander trying to locate you, hoping that you'll come back and save him from this dreadful conversation, and that's when he saw it. Your co-worker was basically feeling you up, their eyes traced your figure as you bent over to grab a couple of waters from the case on the floor, and when you stood back up they grabbed your waist to "move you out of the way" of someone walking by.

The final straw was when you attempted to walk back to Bucky and their spouse, they grabbed you by the elbow stopping you from moving, the grip wasn't very hard from what Bucky could see, but the look on your face was enough to get him moving.

Bucky walked away from the spouse mid sentence. They called out at him, but he paid it no mind. He reached the two of you, and you smiled at him, saying something along the lines of "What couldn’t stand to be without me?" Bucky rolled his eyes when the co-worker asked what he was doing.

"Sorry to cut this short, but honey, we got to go." Overpronouncing the pet name, as he pulls you toward him.

"What? You just got here!" The co-worker joked, "Come on, y/n! The night is still young." He whined out.

"I'm sorry, but Buck's right. I promised to make dinner tonight in order for him to come." You laughed, pulling Bucky's hand into your grasp, "See you on Monday though." You smiled at them, causing Bucky to tighten the grip of his hand around yours.

The second the two of you walked out of the building Bucky pushed you against the wall of it, just barely out of view from the window, kissing you harshly. You opened your mouth in shock, giving Bucky the opportunity to slide his tongue in. His hands roam your body in search for nothing in particular, he smirks when you moan into the kiss, motivating him to pull as much of those pretty little sounds out of you as he can. He thinks of your co-worker, the slimy bastard, they could never have you like this, this thought makes his smile grow as he attaches to your neck, and slips his knee in between your legs. Once he's satisfied with your disheveled state, he silently walks away to the car, leaving you to follow him, confused, calling out for him to slow down.

K - Kiss. (how they kiss/favorite place to be kissed, and vise versa.)

☆ Bucky’s kisses are tender/soft, this is attributed to him subconsciously not wanting to hurt you in any way, so any time he touches you it's rather gentle. His lips tend to taste a little like blood, because he has a habit of biting them.

☆ His favorite place to kiss you is on your cheek, specifically with his hands on your hips as a form of greeting.

☆ His favorite place to be kissed is his neck, it feels special, a place just for you and no one else, it's a form of intimacy he hasn't been able to truly experience until now. He especially likes it when you hug him from behind kissing up from the top of his spine to his nape hairline.

Bucky uncomfortably cleaned the kitchen as he waited for you to return from work; he had recently moved in to your place, and it was just now starting to hit him how serious you guys were. You and him have been dating for quite a while, he stayed over more times than not, so it was only natural for you to ask him to move in. He said yes of course, how could he not? He thought about the two of you, about him no longer sleeping in your bed, but sleeping in his. Next to you. It's driving him insane, oh god - when did he start crying? Seriously though, how could you chose him? He just doesn't understand how this happened, how could you, of all people, want him? More tears. God, Bucky, pull yourself together man.

His thoughts screech to a halt as he hears the door open, he hears you call out his name, he doesn't respond, wiping the tears, this proved to be a lot harder to do as one's tears are still actively falling. You find him within a few seconds, he's facing the sink, you snicker at his concentration; you walk up to him, making sure not to be silent, though there’s not a doubt in your mind he knows you're there. You wrap your arms around his lower torso, placing your chin on his shoulder. His hands stop moving as he leans into the touch.

"Hey, Buck." You softly whisper, "You get out today?"

"Of course I have." He turns his head down slightly, trying to avoid eye contact, "You worry too much." He grumbles, he attempts to move his arms forward, but stops when he feels your lips graze his nape.

"I like worrying about you." Another kiss. "It keeps me grounded." You laugh into his neck.

"Please." He drags out the word in an almost whiney tone, moving his head back to get even closer to your mouth, "Please don't stop."

You consister teasing him, turning his chin to look at you, but stop when you see his wet cheeks you decide against it. You leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth as a sort of apology, before going back to what you were doing to the back of his neck.

"God, Buck, you know how much I love you?" You mumble into his skin after a few moments.

"No, I don't think I do," He smiles at the wall, "how much?"

You unravel your arms from around him, placing them on his shoulders, turning him to face you. You deeply press your lips onto his nose, causing him to scrunch his face, the kiss makes a humming sound, before a soft pop of your lips.

"That much, times like a thousand." You giggle at his soft expression.

"Wow. That's a lot." He remarks with faux amazement, trying to make it seem like you didn't just make his heart nearly beat out of his chest.

"Yeah it is." You exaggerate the words, gripping his cheeks for one last kiss.

L - Love Language.

☆ Bucky's love language is definitely acts of service. He enjoys doing things for you, and putting his skills to use, I think this can been seen in fatws when he helps Sam with repairing the boat, and getting him a new suit. He likes surprising you with household takes already completed when you get home, he absolutely basks in the praise you give him for doing this.

(yuck. This is where I officially give up on the scenes, as said prior if you want to see any specific ones just ask!!)

M - Meals. (kitchen dynamics.)

☆ Bucky doesn't like to cook with other people, you can watch for sure! But he doesn't like to share the space too closely, it just annoys him when people do things he believes he can do more efficiently.

☆ The two of you will most likely do A/B days when it comes to cooking and clean up, unless one person is pampering the other/it's a special occasion.

N - Nicknames. (what do they call their S/O?)

☆ His nicknames for you are obviously older, and slightly feminine (unless you tell him off), he starts you relationship with names like, doll, darling, and dove. As time progresses he will start incorporating handsome into his list of pet names. All that being said, I don't think he's too into pet names, for the most part he'll just say your real name.

O - Openness. (how open are they about their past/emotions with their S/O?)

☆ He starts telling you about his past in the form of jokes (like that one date scene in fatws). He's able to tell you about everything in a factual tone a few months into dating (just so he knows he trusts you), as far as his emotions surrounding it - that does obviously take longer, but in my opinion not by that much. The amount of emotion shared does vary, but maybe a month or two after he tells you about it for the first time, he'll start venting about his nightmares and such.

☆ also it does depend on how you view/retain media, because you might have already recognized his face/name.

P - PDA.

☆ Bucky is in the middle when it comes to PDA, he likes holding your hand, will give you goodbye kisses and such, but he doesn't go father then that. Half due to his social anxiety, half to him wanting the more intimate things to stay private.

Q - Quarrel. (how they apologize/ how long it takes them to forgive their S/O?)

☆ If Bucky feels he's in the right he can and will be petty, such as brushing you off, or making sarcastic comments. He typically won't confront you because of the attitude he holds, but when you decide to apologize he's ready to talk it out. He accepts your apology in time, (depending on what you did) but he is still standoffish for some time after, due to his trust issues.

☆ When he fucks up he is all over fixing it. He starts the apology in a very formal manner, stating how he knows he what he did was wrong, how he'll do better. The second part of the apology is him being (too) nice for the next week, as said on L his love language is acts of service so he'll overcompensate, and do every task you needed done.

R - Rules. (boundaries they have.)

☆ His "main" boundaries are focused around his past, such as you're not allowed to pry when it comes to asking about it - he will talk about it in his own time. You're also not allowed (at least for a long time) to touch the scars he has next to where his arm is attached, or the attachment itself. As far as other boundaries go, he doesn't want you to go further than hand holding, and a quick goodbye kiss in public, and he hates it when you pity him out right - keep that in your head.

S - Security. (how protective are they of their S/O?)

☆ He is very protective of you, not in a weird controlling way, but he always checks in out of fear someone will use you to get to him for one reason or another. This protectiveness isn't really that obvious, more just him checking in on you, and keeping an eye out when you're out together.

T - Time. (how long does it takes to fall for their S/O?)

☆ Bucky does take quite a bit of time to actually fall in love, but him finding you attractive/intriguing is very fast if not immediate. It takes about 2-3 months for him to ask you out (though he does flirt for a while first), and about 5-7 months of dating to "love" you.

U - Upset (what things upset them in a relationship?)

☆ He can get upset from a few things namely; everything said in R, when you grab him first in his post nightmare state or during/after a panic attack (he wants to be the one to initiate contact, because sometimes he doesn't want to be touched), and if you disagree on politics - although Bucky isn't the kind of guy to compromise on those so it most likely won't happen, because he wouldn't be dating you in the first place.

V - Vacation. (what kind of traveler are they with their S/O?)

☆ Bucky's a NERD!! He likes to go to places with rich history/culture, and he won't take a second to rest, he just wants to see everything, can you blame him? If you're the kind of person who wants to spend a day relaxing by the pool, I'm sorry, but he will leave you behind without hesitation.

W - Words. (promises they make to their S/O.)

☆ Bucky promises to never hurt you in any way shape or form, he promises to protect you agianst others who wish to harm you, and he promises to never leave you behind as he doesn't want anyone, especially you, to feel how he felt.

X - Xenial. (how they make you feel welcome/what makes them feel welcome?)

☆ Bucky likes to do little things for you to make you feel welcome/comfortable around him. This comes in different shapes and forms, such as complimenting you in every which way, making mental notes of things you like, and always being ready to help you out with anything you may need.

☆ Bucky feels the most welcome when it's explicitly said that he is. You using your words to validate him, not even compliment him, but just say he's doing fine, it does more for him then you could imagine.

Y - Yearning. (do they miss their S/O easily? what do they do about it?)

☆ Bucky is able to survive being isolated for long periods of time, even going as far to do it intentionally, but you've weakened him. He misses you rather fast. Now, it's not like he's going to cry over it or anything, but he will sometimes sit up at night unable to sleep without you next to him.

☆ Let's say that you two, for whatever reason, can't call. Bucky is an old fashioned guy, he likes to keep a least one physical photo of you on him at all times. He says it's his good luck charm; he would never tell you however, is that when you two are separated he keeps the photo as close as possible at nights because it calms him down from his nightmares.

Z - Zzz. (sleeping habits/how they cuddle.)

☆ As said so many times throughout this list, Bucky gets nightmares, and sometimes he can't fall back asleep afterwards so he gets up to go do his own thing, because of this while the two of you do sleep near eachother, you rarely cuddle. It's not even that he doesn't want to cuddle, he does, it's the fact he feels like a burden any time he wakes you, so instead he lied and told you he doesn't like them.

☆ Other sleep facts about him is that he runs hot at night, somewhere earlier it's said he's cold to touch, but for whatever reason he can not have more than one blanket on him, plus your body heat.

☆ His typical sleepwear is a pare of shorts, and if you want to count them, his dogtags. During the colder months he'll add a long sleeve shirt, or even just a standard tee, depends on his mood.

MARVEL MASTERLIST

#marvel x male reader #bucky x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #male reader #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #mlm fanfic #gay

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kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings · 1 year

Note

hi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

i want to say that i really like your work and would like to try to make a request with douma, where s/o is very random

for example, they just hang out and then s/o gives out a random strange fact like: "did you know that dolphins can fall in love very much and build relationships the same way as people?" or she can run up, pet him and run away, etc

feel free to ignore it! hope you having a wonderful day, love you

and forgive me for my english, it's quite crooked

Hello \(≧▽≦.)/ Thank you so much for saying that anon, that truly makes me happy to hear, also don't worry, your request has been heard loud and clear! And I love it!

I hope I've done your request justice (^ω^.) and please know that your always welcome back to browse and request something from me again.

Your English is great by the way,so don't worry!

Douma/Doma with an S/O who does random things - [Headcannons]:

There where many things that Douma/Doma found boring, in life and with entertainment, but you weren't boring - you were anything but boring

Each day you did (or said) something that tickled his funny bone

Each day you had a new fact, hobby, skill/talent and object that you had to share with him that genuinely had his brain working overtime at how you knew or did that

Douma/Doma finally found something to look forward too each day and it was you and your randomness

Your randomness was cute - adorable even - and it definitely saved you from scenario's that would have ended up with your death (and a rather pissed off and sad spouse) or at least hurt

Douma/Doma enjoys your random fact of the day - that you randomly drop on him at a random point in the day

When you first started your random fact dropping you'd started with facts about the human body during a tea ceremony

"Did you know that the average tongue is about three inches long" You said simply, taking a sip of your tea before continuing "and that the human body can shed about 40 pounds of skin?" - its safe to say that Douma/Doma was so dumbfounded by those facts he over-poured his tea with a rather star-struck expression

Although he does quite like the cute random facts that you tell him too - "Did you know that trees can make friends and talk to each other? Isn't that sweet"

You also had the habit of coming up to him randomly - at different points in the day - and inspecting his hands and tapping three times on his wrist (directly on where his pulse point would be) before leaving without a word

And bopping his nose

And sometimes knocking gently on his forehead

Also you like tracing shapes through his clothes on his back, arms and legs - making him guess the shapes and words you form with your nails

You also liked stealing his fans to use them for something random and/or weird - he once found you using them to cut fruit...

Once you baked a 10 tier cake and brought it in mid sermon with his followers with plates and water

Food was another thing that you made randomly, you baked and cooked new and weird things and brought in for him to try - as well as his followers....

When he sleeps in, it's always a 60/40 that you'll have done something to his hair - You like to fiddle with and decorate his hair and you have once perfectly styled his hair into a plaited mohawk

You've painted his nails - "Oh paint them pink next time love" He'd whined once into your neck "I want them to match the colour of your love~" + "Oh! Like the colour of my organs too?" followed by a blank stare from Douma/Doma

As you both where about to sleep you turned to him, perfect smile on your face and sleep hazing your eyes and said, "I wanna eat you! Just take a chunk cause your too perfect and beautiful for this world" before promptly falling asleep

He has found you trying to do cartwheels down the hall

You've always got something up your sleeve and it honestly brings Douma/Doma so much joy to live through each day, finding out what you had in store

.....you've made a finger puppet version of him before as well as a doll and you have used both as advisors - "And what do you think Wackus Bonkus?" "Kill him" "Oh! You Naughty Wackus Bonkus!"

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moonseonghwa · 1 year

Text

Rewind - Choi San

You and San had always been close, and when you joined him to his usual friday night parties, your view of your best friend seemed to have changed more than you’d like.

word count: 3k

warnings: bestfriend!san, unprotected sex (boooo), hickeys, choking (slightly), creampie

a/n: i’ve been sooooo busy but i’ll update cruel summer in a few days! also not proofread so excuse my mistakes

ateez masterlist

Your detectable boredom hung in the air around you, cutting through the intense smell of liquors and marijuana. Three things you wish were easier to ignore. You were standing in the corner, with a red-colored cup in your left hand as you debated on just leaving right now. Your friend was here, somewhere in the huge house, and you were waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing just so you could finally go home.

Honestly, you were never one to enjoy parties, always declining politely and saying you had other things to do. You didn’t mind telling your best friend ‘no’ over and over again whenever he begged you to come with him. Which explains the surprised face this morning when you told him you’d join today.

You were here because you heard Mingi would come. A person you’ve been eyeing for a long time, but never had the confidence to talk to. These sorts of parties make those kinds of things much easier. The conversation will flow, and alcohol courage will keep it going. You thought you would see him tonight, but he never showed up, which explains your wish to leave. And to be very honest you wouldn’t stay here any longer even if he did show up.

You finally noticed San, your best friend, on the dance floor, his hands wrapped around a random girl’s waist as she was saying something in his ear. He was laughing, making you roll your eyes. It wasn’t anything new to you. He has taken multiple girls to your shared apartment, resulting you in sleeping with earphones every time he did because of the clear moans resonating through the thin walls.

He was for sure making them feel good though, and sometimes, you would think about wanting to be in their place for once, before shrugging away that thought immediately. He was your best friend, and roommate, so there were boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.

You watched him for another moment before deciding to leave, not wanting to go back home with him and the plus-one whose voice would be heard the rest of the night.

San, on the contrary, was constantly thinking about you. He knew about your little crush and figured you were somewhere too lost in Mingi’s kisses to come and talk to him. He was excited to hear you were coming to the party, finally joining him in what felt like ages, but when he heard Mingi was coming, he got the message and left you alone for the night.

However, when he noticed your dress in the corner of his eyes, he followed your form to the entrance, immediately breaking away from the girl as he followed you. He pushed the bodies in front of him out of the way, trying to keep up with you and your fast tempo.

‘’Where are you going?’’ He yelled after you when he caught up to you outside, making you turn around, surprised to see him jogging towards you.

‘’I thought you were leaving with that girl, so I was heading back already’’ You said, planting your hands in the pockets of the leather jacket you borrowed from San, the jacket he thinks is way too big on you. He just can’t deny how good it looks on you, his clothes, claiming you as his in some way.

‘’I wouldn’t leave with someone else when I took you to this party, I thought you were with Mingi’’ He said, starting to walk towards the direction of your shared apartment, making speed up to walk with him.

‘’Didn’t show up’’

‘’You’re too good for him anyway’’ He muttered, clear enough for you to hear as you let out a chuckle.

‘’You seemed to be enjoying yourself out there’’ You said, changing the subject so he wouldn’t make your heart flutter like that again.

Because he looked absolutely gorgeous right now, the light sweater accentuating his toned shoulders while his hair fell loosely on his forehead, a smirk plastered on his face at your comment. The dimly lit streetlights illuminating his face. His steps matched yours, while he subconsciously made them smaller so he would be at the same pace as you.

‘’She wasn’t interesting’’ He simply said, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the road in front of him. The sound of your steps on the concrete could be heard on the quiet road, and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of yourself that you were the one San was taking home at the end of the day.

You just hummed, closing your jacket a bit more at the night breeze, before he threw his arm around you, his body warmth warming you up more. Your heart tightened, a reaction you didn’t see coming at the small move he has done multiple times before.

You continued the comfortable silent walk until you were in front of your door, entering the code as you felt San’s body dangerously close to yours, his hand ghosting your side. When you got inside, you immediately made a beeline for the couch, dropping your exhausted body on it as San chuckled at you.

‘’Let’s go to sleep’’ He grabbed your arm, lifting you from the couch easily as your body crashed against his, his hand on your waist supporting you before guiding you towards his room. You kept walking to your own room though, but the hand on your wrist stopped you. ‘’Stay with me’’ He said, making your eyes widen.

‘’Why?’’

‘’You sleep in my bed most of the time, why not today?’’

Because I want to kiss you so bad, it’s killing me.

‘’Because I just want to watch my drama a bit more’’ You lied through your teeth, not daring to tell him the actual reason. Because you don’t trust yourself right now with the drinks you’ve had tonight.

‘’Just stay with me tonight’’ He almost begged, making your insides twist at the thought of sharing a bed with him right now.

You don’t know what switched inside you tonight, but you were constantly thinking about San, a problem you usually never have. You thought it could be the way none of the men inside the frat house interested you, thinking about how much better San would be at something, or how San wouldn’t make you uncomfortable when he touches your sides when the other guys did.

The interior of his room reflected his personality. Black and white themed, not too much but still detailed with the paintings he hung on his wall. He was neat, neater than any boy of your age that you’ve seen the rooms of.

Before you knew it, you were in his bed, wearing his t-shirt as he stayed a fair distance away from you, but not far enough to keep the countless thoughts about him out of your mind, and if it wasn’t for your tiredness, you wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep this quickly.

That tiredness slipped away when you woke up a few moments later. San’s hand was wrapped around your waist, splayed out on your bare stomach while his crotch pressed against your ass. His mouth was so close to your ear that you could feel his pillowy lips against the side of your neck. You had to bite back a whimper when he pulled you closer, the friction making you realize just how turned on you were by the feeling of his hands on you.

It was bad, you knew it, so you tried to fall back asleep. You shifted, trying to get out of his tight grip as he only pulled you closer, a groan leaving his mouth which went straight to your core. It took a couple more minutes of shifting before you felt yourself growing more and more frustrated.

‘’Sannie’’ You whispered, looking back to see his eyes flutter open.

‘’What’s wrong?’’ His raspy voice spoke, lips so close to yours, you could feel his breathing against them.

‘’You’re too close’’ You said, voice weak and shaky.

‘’Hmm? You don’t want me close?’’ He teased, his hand rubbing your stomach softly.

‘’I do, but it’s dangerous’’

‘’And what if that’s exactly what I’m looking for’’ He said, moving his body which resulted in him hovering over you as he moved your hair out of your face. You didn’t dare to say anything, afraid of what might come out of your mouth. ‘’Tell me,’’ His head moved to your neck, placing his lips against your collarbone, ‘’You really want me to stop?’’ he placed another kiss, making your breath hitch as you struggled to keep yourself from moaning.

‘’Cat’s got your tongue?’’ He chuckled, a side of San you’ve never experienced showing. His own cat-like eyes look at you with that gaze you recognize. As if he’s telling you he’s got you right where he wants you to be.

‘’I’m going to get some water’’ You said, shoving yourself out of his grip before stumbling towards the door. You didn’t know why you wanted to get away, but you were so scared of finally showing yourself to San. The confidence you always had slipping away when he was so close to kissing you. You filled your glass with cold water before gulping it all away in one go. Your hands leaned against the counter, contemplating what you were going to do now.

The door of San’s room opened, revealing him as he walked towards you with his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, exposing his extremely well-toned torso clad in his workout compression shirt. There was a smirk on his face as he approached you. He grabbed your glass before filling it up with water himself and taking a small sip.

‘’You good?’’ He asked, trying not to smile at your flushed red face. You were trying to play it cool, looking at him with those eyes of yours, but he noticed your foot tapping on the ground, indicating how nervous you seemed to be.

‘’Fine’’ You hated how weak your voice sounded.

He laughed, placing the glass on the counter. ‘’Why are you nervous?’’ His voice was still raspy. He moved a bit closer, feeling his body heat against your skin as he leaned towards your ear, ‘’Do I make you nervous?’’ He asked.

‘’You do’’ You said before doing something you will probably regret tomorrow, but those worries were for tomorrow only.

You crashed your lips on his, catching him off guard as he smiled in the kiss. His hands pulled your hips closer to his, making you groan as he sucked on your lower lip before entering his tongue in your mouth. You felt every part of your body on fire, something you haven’t felt in such a long time.

Your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling it back, eliciting a deep grunt from him. His hands went to the back of your thighs, lifting you up to sit on the counter as he went between them, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, so lost in the feeling of his lips on yours. He was slow with you, fingers rubbing your thigh and leaving the skin burning with pleasure.

He took you in his arms, walking you to his room again as he dropped you back on the bed, your legs wrapping around his waist. He sat back, pulling off his shirt as you did the same with yours, revealing a dark purple lace bralette. His favorite color.

‘’Did you wear this one for me, hm?’’ He teased, placing his lips underneath your ear, making you sigh in pleasure as you nodded, not daring to tell him you were thinking about him when you bought it.

He kissed you again, his hand around your waist making you arch your back against his torso, feeling his way bigger body against you as it caged you between him and the soft mattress.

He had imagined this before, whenever he brought a girl over, he would think about the sounds you would make if you were in her position and the way your soft skin would feel against his.

‘’You’re so hot, can’t believe we didn’t do this earlier’’ He muttered, breaking away from the kiss as he kissed the top of your breasts while fumbling with the edge of your panties, your breath coming out staggered by his movements. ‘’Always imagined it’s you whenever I bring a girl over’’

Now that was a comment you didn’t expect, and one that made your panties ever wetter in just a few seconds.

‘’Please just fuck me already’’ You whined, growing needy and just wanting to feel him deep inside you. He tutted at you, his hand moving away from your panties.

‘’We’re going to do this my way, and I’m going to take my time’’ He said, ‘’Want to see all of you’’ He added, kissing down the valley of your breasts and opening your legs with his knee.

You bit your lip, his lips coming close to where you needed them the most. You looked down at the view, his head between your thighs, a view you would probably never forget.

San felt the same way, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips, your small breaths and whimpers music to his ears as he teased you slowly because he never wanted this moment to end. It felt like a dream. His lips went back to your stomach, kissing their way up to your lips again.

‘’Can I take these off?’’ He whispered, pulling your panties down when you nodded, exposing yourself to him. His hands then went to your waist, lifting you up as his fingers undid the clip of your bra.

He gawked at you, making you hide your body with your arms as his hands grabbed your wrists. ‘’Don’t hide’’ He pushed you back down against the bed, this time pulling off his own trousers and boxers, leaving him naked in front of you as he smiled at you, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

‘’Do you want to do this?

‘’Yes’’ You whined, high on the feeling of what was about to happen.

San entered two fingers, making you throw your head back in delight. Your hand came up next to your head as you held onto the pillow tightly, pleasure erupting in your body as he held your hips in place with his other hand. His fingers went up to your clit, rubbing it slowly as you moaned his name over and over.

‘’Please San, I need you inside’’ You said, pulling him towards you for a kiss as he smiled at your needy state.

‘’Yeah, need my dick?’’ He said in a cocky tone, wanting to see you beg for it.

‘’Yeah- need it now, please’’ You said, the feeling of his fingers driving you near the edge.

“Condom?” He asked, looking into your eyes.

“I’m on birth control” You assured.

However San didn’t tell you that you were the only one he asked, but because it was you, he couldn’t help but want to feel you. All of you.

His hand went around your throat, holding it softly while he locked his eyes with yours, his fingers leaving you as you felt his tip enter you. He pressed a bit harder on the sides of your throat, making you moan out of bliss as you felt his hips meet yours.

‘’So good, baby, all mine’’ He whimpered at the pleasure, slowly pulling out, then pushing in with the same speed. You felt the drag of his cock inside your walls, feeling every vein and rolling your eyes back when he pulled out again.

He kept the slow pace, fucking you deeper every time. His hands were all over your body, gentle touches keeping you close to him. You were seeing stars, lost in the pleasure and his lips on the side of your neck.

‘’Mingi could never fuck you like this’’ He said, sucking and creating marks to show off to others that you were his now. ‘’Hm? Would he fuck you better?’’

‘’No, he can’t’’ He sped up at your answer. His hand went to your clit, rubbing circles, getting you closer and closer to your high. Your nails were digging into his neck, his hand placed on your hip, holding you in place as his hips snapped deeper inside of you. His groans went straight in your ear, his deep raspy voice like music. He grabbed your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder as the angle made you see stars.

‘’Gonna- ah’’ You mumbled, not able to form a proper sentence. ‘’Gonna cum’’ You moaned, watching the way he slid inside you easily as you threw your head back, the high taking over. Your brows were knitted together as you came, making it hard for him to last any longer.

‘’Good girl’’ He praised, stroking your sweaty hair out of your face as he pounded deeper inside of you. ‘’Where do you want me to cum?’’

‘’Inside, please, fill me up San’’ You stammered. ‘’Need it, need it so bad’’

He stilled inside you at your words, before releasing his load deep inside you, groaning as his head was buried in the crook of your neck. You stayed like that with him for a while, until he pulled out, kissing your cheek softly.

‘’Are you okay?’’ He asked, making you nod with a smile.

He got up, threw on sweatpants as you closed your eyes, still in bliss, before you felt a wet cloth between your legs, San cleaning you up before handing you his shirt. He dropped beside you, pulling you to his chest.

‘’We should do this more often’’ You chuckled, making him smile against the top of your head.

‘’Like a regular thing?’’

‘’I mean, if you want to?’’ You mumbled, suggesting friends with benefits with San was something you never thought you would do.

‘’I definitely want to’’ He chuckled, lifting your head and placing a kiss on your lips before you snuggled a bit closer.

#choi san #choi san smut #san smut #san imagine #san fluff #ateez san #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez #choi san fluff #san x reader #san fanfic

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padfootagain · 7 days

Text

Love in Verses (XI)

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Hi! Here is another chapter! On the menu today: a dinner with Sam and Frank… I’ll let you guess how well this will go… (I hope my choice for Andrew's pic for this chapter gives you a clue...)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2933

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Hesitate to call

Lived to see you throwing Me aside. That fought Like nettled fish inside me. Saw you throbbing In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see That all that all flushed down The refuse. Done? It lives in me. You live in me. Malignant. Love, you ever want me, don’t.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

Andrew checked his appearance in the mirror for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

He was nervous beyond reason, after all he was heading to a restaurant to see Sam. And after a long-term relationship, he shouldn’t have felt so troubled by it. But things were different now, things were… complicated, to say the least.

Still, he heaved a sigh, checked his appearance once more. He had let his hair loose, had put on contacts, was wearing a black shirt and some dark jeans. He looked tired, exhausted even. Work was a lot at the moment, he had a thousand things to do. He still struggled to sleep, was still tortured with thoughts and dreams of Sam, of her leaving, of her loving someone else.

November was ending, and with it, the remnants of Andrew’s and Sam’s plans. Plans…

A weekend in Kerry in September. Saimhan with friends. Now, Andrew should be packing. He should be choosing clothes, not for an evening in a restaurant, but for a weekend in Glasgow. A flight late at night leaving from Dublin, another one during the night between Sunday and Monday. And in between, a couple of days just for them, spent eating, visiting museums, seeing the sights, walking around the town. A night in a hotel, one she had chosen, spent on filling their hearts with love and their bodies with lust and desire.

He looked at his reflection again, stared right into his own hazel eyes. They were greener than usual, probably because wearing contacts made his eyes water. He would have been more comfortable with glasses, more relaxed as well, more himself, in a way.

He blinked tears away as a thought crossed his mind, a painful one he wished he could have kept at bay, but he didn’t have the strength for that. Beating himself up was a habit, since childhood. There were thoughts sometimes that formed in his mind that brought him pain, but he listened anyway. Sometimes they were quiet, sometimes they were deafening. These days they were loud and clear.

He went to get his coat, grab his car keys, get ready to leave. He petted Elwood, told him to be a good boy, that he would soon be home. The thought followed him outside his home.

Being himself was never enough for Sam to love him.

Christ, Sam was so beautiful…

It was breaking his heart that they weren’t on a date. As he entered the restaurant, saw her sitting at a table waiting for him, Andrew was reminded of hundreds of evenings spent like this, going on a date in a restaurant, at the cinema, it didn’t even matter where. At the end, they didn’t go out much anymore. Sam always seemed to be too busy for that. At the time, Andrew thought it was only because of her job. Now, he wondered if maybe she had not already started to give up on them.

But he hadn’t. To this day, he hadn’t given up on them…

He kept on admiring her for a few more seconds, until the rest of the table was revealed to him, and the illusion waned. You were there too, facing Frank. The restaurant was posh, he felt a little uneasy in this atmosphere. He wouldn’t have chosen such a place for a date, but he had no doubt that Sam liked it.

He forced a smile as he approached, was greeted warmly by Frank, the first one who spotted him as he approached. You turned on your chair to greet him with a relieved smile, and his heart made a happy jump at the sight of you. He had an ally tonight, he wasn’t on his own…

“You’re late.”

He turned to Sam, his heart dropping again. Her tone was flat, emotionless, and he knew her enough to be aware that it was worse than annoyance. She was angry. He struggled to swallow.

“Yeah, sorry… Had some stuff to take care of before coming.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing it was a lie. Or well, it wasn’t a lie, but the real reason was simply that Andrew was always late. To everything. He couldn’t do much about it; if left unattended, he simply lost track of time. The alarms he had set up had done little to help him tonight. He didn’t add anything, merely took a seat.

“Ha, no worries!” Frank reassured him, and Andrew could tell that he was nervous and willing to make Andrew feel welcome. As a result, Andrew was highly uncomfortable.

“The food looks… interesting,” you commented, trying to drag the conversation away from Andrew, and he was grateful for it.

“The oysters are particularly good!” Frank recommended.

You said nothing, but Andrew frowned.

You… hadn’t you told him once that you weren’t such a fan of seafood?

Indeed, when you chose what to eat, you didn’t follow Frank’s advice at all.

Conversation drifted towards work, and your respective lives. Catching up or getting to know each other.

And Andrew understood Frank’s appeal tonight, as he watched him lead the conversation. He was louder than Andrew ever was, bright, clearly extraverted, longing for people’s attention. He was funny, charming. And handsome, that too, Andrew couldn’t deny that either. His complete opposite. Average height, muscles that threatened the fabric of his sleeves while he passionately talked about his work and moved his hands around, blond with electric blue eyes.

So… that was what Sam longed for? What had made you fall for him?

Andrew tried not to think this way. There was nothing he could do about his physical appearance, his ridiculous height, his gangly stature… there was no need to torture himself over that. He could show that he took care of Sam though. That he paid attention to her. That he loved her…

Because Frank didn’t seem to care all that much. Andrew saw it as you talked about your work, about how nervous you were as you got ready to give your students their first test of the year. And if Andrew was intently listening, Frank was clearly uninterested. He drew the conversation away from your job as soon as he could, offering encouraging words, and quickly moving on. You smiled, but you weren’t fooled. Andrew saw it in the way your gaze saddened, in the way the excitement that had been glimmering there died out instantly. His heart ached at the sight. And when Frank spoke again, Andrew didn’t care.

“Will you set a limit for the length required for the essay?”

Frank grew quiet, frowned. You turned to Andrew, clearly surprised by his question.

“Erm… I haven’t decided yet. I usually don’t.”

“Once a student gave me a twenty-pages long essay…”

“Twenty pages?!”

“Yeah… she was thorough, for sure.”

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“Of course. And now I set a limited word count.”

You chuckled, nodded.

“Maybe I should do that. What about your class about Yeats? Have you decided on a subject for an essay?”

“I’m still hesitating… I want to prepare one about Yeats’s involvement in the Irish Literary Revival… but I could choose one of his love poems about Maud Gonne too.”

You chuckled.

“Why do I feel like they’ll hear a lot about No Second Troy…”

“I love that poem.”

“Anyone who speaks of literature with you for more than ten minutes knows that,” you teased. “It’s a short poem to study, though.”

“Yeah… but that means they would really have to work on each line, instead of simply skipping whatever element they struggle with.”

“True.”

“I feel like it would be easier for them to work on the more political side of Yeats’s work during exam season. The material is easier, and we’ll go thoroughly through the most important aspects of these texts in class. So… I think I’ll ask them to work on love poems at home.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You exchanged a smile. When Andrew looked up at Frank and Sam, they had stopped listening and were both eating their meal in silence. Sam was looking at something on her phone, a habit she had developed in the past couple of years.

She hadn’t asked him about his job. She hadn’t asked him if he wrote, how he felt, if he was suffering because of her. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear his answers. Perhaps she didn’t really care. Andrew was starting to have doubts. The more the evening was progressing, the more he realised that she didn’t seem to care. Sam and Andrew had spent years together, but she wasn’t listening as he spoke of his work, of the things he loved most on Earth.

Did she even care at all about him anymore? She used to listen to him talk about music and poetry for hours, back when they were students…

Or did she? She had never liked his own writing, but he thought she listened when he spoke of what he loved, still. She didn’t seem willing to make an effort these days… but then again, they weren’t together anymore. So, why would she?

“I’ve listened to your record, by the way!”

Andrew blinked, looked at you again.

“What?”

“Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. I’ve listened to it.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Did you? Really?”

You nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

“Of course! I’m going to sound very basic, I think In a Sentimental Mood was my favourite… although I really loved My Little Brown Book too.”

His mouth broke into a bright grin.

“Grand! Like… that’s grand! I’m glad you liked it.”

Frank stared at you for a moment.

“Who are you talking about?” he asked, trying to slither in the conversation.

“Andy recommended me some music! I have a whole list at this point,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow and making him chuckle and blush.

“It’s Jazz,” Andrew explained. “Some of the greatest, honestly.”

Sam heaved a sigh, still focused on her screen.

“Oh… nice,” Frank nodded, although he didn’t sound convincing at all.

“I really liked it a lot,” you went on. “I don’t really have the vocabulary to describe it, like… on a technical point of view, you know? But I liked it. It was very… like… drawing me in, in a way. There was tension, and then once I was trapped in the song, there was so much emotion there… And it’s unusual for me to be so focused when listening to instrumental music. I have a busy brain, I get distracted easily.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I have a busy brain too… but that’s what Blues and Jazz do to me. They kind of… shush my brain. Make it go quiet.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You like music, then, Andy?”

Andrew looked at Frank again, wanted to correct him and ask to be called Andrew… but he didn’t want to seem rude. He didn’t like it, though, how he used his nickname.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Andy wanted to be a musician, back in the days,” Sam intervened, putting her phone down again.

“Really? What instrument do you play?”

“I sing, mostly… play guitar too.”

“But you didn’t make a career out of it? Not that it’s surprising, it’s a tough field to work in. Most people can’t make a living out of it. Like… there’s so much competition, so few who actually get to make it. It must be a tough life.”

“A few of his friends made it though, and he had the talent for it,” Sam went on. “But Andy is not one to compromise easily.”

Andrew stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged.

“You could have had a record deal, had you accepted to change a few things about your songs.”

Andrew huffed, he could barely believe his ears…

“There was never an opportunity for me to record my own songs, and you know that. I didn’t want to sing those… attempts at pop hits that felt soulless to me.”

“And you didn’t get a record deal.”

“I didn’t want that kind of deal. I wanted to record the songs I had written.”

She didn’t say a thing, but her thoughts were loud enough for Andrew to guess them.

And then you didn’t record any of those either.

“Why are you saying all that like you’re resenting me?” Andrew asked, and Sam shook her head.

“I don’t resent you, of course! It was your choice.”

“You do sound like it though…”

“I’m just pointing out that you’re not the kind of guy who compromises much.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow and huffed again.

“You’re one to talk…” he mumbled.

Andrew spent his time compromising. Had he not compromised when he wanted to take a job in London and had settled for Dublin instead because she didn’t want to move there? When she refused to move in with him and asked for more time to find herself? When she chose most of their topics of conversations? When he barely talked about his work?

He let out a long exhale, took a bite of the overpriced fish he had ordered. He didn’t even like the food…

Sam spoke again, about some stupid tv reality she had been watching with Frank, and you listened even though you hadn’t seen it. Meanwhile, Andrew wanted to talk about music with you again. He wanted to ask you about Duke Ellington, he wanted to ask you what songs you liked, he wanted to listen to you ramble about how music made you feel. Your thoughts were always interesting, he could have talked with you for hours… and sometimes he did.

But he shook himself. He wanted Sam. He wanted to have Sam back, and nobody was perfect. There were some things in Sam that annoyed him or disappointed him or that he didn’t understand but at the end of the day she was Sam, and that was enough for him.

He was quieter throughout the rest of the evening, trying to do some damage control over the couple of tensed moments that had occurred during the night.

But then the conversation settled on the wedding itself, and things turned ill all over again…

“And we need to settle on a cake too! Christ, everything is complicated when you’re planning a wedding!” Sam laughed, while Andrew was tightly closing his fists under the table, until his nails drew crescent marks into his palms, while you looked away in a hurry.

“You know… I thought we could choose a strawberry cake,” Frank said. “It’s a classic, most people like those…”

“Sam is allergic to strawberries,” Andrew answered without thinking.

An uncomfortable silence settled across the table.

“Oh… you didn’t tell me that, babe,” Frank told Sam, who frowned.

Clearly, she had told him before, but she said nothing.

“Well, we’ll choose something else!” Frank shrugged.

“What about your career, then?” you asked your ex, staring intensely at him.

“My career?”

“You… you used to say that you wanted to wait to get married because you needed to focus on your career.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“Yeah… that’s true. I used to want that. But… it’s different with Sam.”

Andrew saw the pain that shot across your features. There was so much anger that ran through his veins then…

“Right,” you nodded.

“Like… my work seemed the most important, but now… not anymore. Or… not in the same way. So, why wait?”

“Why wait, indeed…” you slowly nodded while Frank and Sam exchanged a tender gaze, one that made Andrew nauseous.

He looked down at the piece of cheesecake he had barely touched, decided not to eat it. He couldn’t get anything more down…

The meal ended in a quiet mood, with conversations spent mostly between Sam and Frank, but the couple seemed satisfied with this situation. When they disappeared in a cab together, Andrew felt emptier than ever. A shell without a pulse or any other semblance of life…

“Andy?”

He turned around to look at you standing behind him in the street, right before the restaurant. Your frame was illuminated by both the white light coming from the restaurant’s sign and the orange hues of the streetlights.

He caught himself thinking that you were beautiful, had to push the thought away. But you were. You had dressed up tonight, undoubtedly to impress Frank, just like Andrew had tried to impress Sam with his careful choice of outfit. And Andrew was impressed, at any rate. You were gorgeous…

You offered him a humourless smile.

“Tonight was… a lot, right?”

He nodded, letting out a long exhale through his nose.

“You can say that…”

“I can’t say that it went… incredibly well.”

“No… it was… strange.”

“Let’s put it that way, yeah.”

“I’m not sure it helped us make any progress.”

“I’m not so sure either. On the contrary. But we tried, at least.”

Andrew nodded, looked at you as you heaved a sigh.

“You know what I want right now?”

He shook his head, tilting his head to the side as he waited for you to speak again, his hands now buried in his pockets.

“I really… really… want to get drunk. Like… hammered. Properly destroyed.”

Andrew exploded with laughter.

“You know what… sign me up! Getting very drunk sounds nice!”

“Let’s go to my place. I don’t want to be surrounded by people anymore,” you offered, and Andrew easily accepted.

As he followed you throughout the street, he reckoned that at least one thing in this evening could be pleasant, after all.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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overnowsfcb · 10 months

Text

worth it for once; pedri

summary: sometimes the show must not go on. what happens when the curtains fall?

warnings: angst, smut (dom!pedri, pool sex, hickey, blow job (v), masturbation and self-masturbation (p), pet names) mature language, abuse of alcohol, toxic relationship dynamics, emotional distress. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 5.9k

note: hi! first of all i wanted to thank everyone who interacted with 'halfway out the door', you don't even know how much it means to me that people can read my stories. i knew i said i would do some fluff, but i feel like im not good at it. i cant seem to let the reader be happy can i? (this fic is so long i feel like i got a bit carried away)

p.s.: this is my first time ever writing smut, im sorry if its too bad. also! 'halfway out the door' has ninety percent of possibility to have a second part.

p.s. 2: the party ended an hour ago and he still there. another thing that i wanted to say is that FOR ME 'slut!' is not a love song so that is my reason for this, i take my interpretation of the song and write it down — venus 🫂💐🫧

The sun's rays slipped through the white curtain covering the partially open window, letting in the morning breeze. You nestled in the sheets, still drowsy, but as you did, you snapped wide awake, realizing once again that Pedri wasn't by your side.

You turned over, hoping it was a dream, but the only remnants of him in the room were his lingering scent and memories of the night before, replaying in your mind.

The way he touched you, tracing each of the invisible scars left by your previous lovers who sought only their own pleasure, using you to their liking without paying attention to your desires.

He was different. His kisses felt like a religious experience, filling you with an ever-growing sense of fulfillment. Nothing wrapped around you more securely than the feeling of having him inside of you, merging under the lustful gaze of the moon that welcomed you on a tailor-made altar, adorned with soft sheets and sensations that turned into a celestial orchestra.

And although the next day, perhaps his flaws became evident, your infatuation took you beyond, closing the curtain of the stage within your mind; you didn't have to be displeased or critical when admiring a work of art, right?

When the strength left from the previous night was regained under pressure, and your mind returned to the frosty present, you sat up in bed, feeling your head heavy, needing to blink several times to clear the blurriness that clouded your eyes due to sleep.

Your feet rested on the wooden floor. You didn’t want to face another day with the pain of the mandatory conviction your heart held towards your mind, aiming it with a gun if it tried to move from there.

You sighed with closed eyes and gathered your clothes scattered around the room. When you finished dressing, you approached the window and inhaled a breath of air to refresh your thoughts.

You left your room; the squeak of the door echoed through the house, signaling to Elena that you had already woken up. You couldn't lie; you were afraid to face her.

She, your best friend since you desperately looked for someone to share an apartment with after the owners of your previous apartment unjustly left you out in the cold.

She, who warmly welcomed you full of empathy and commiseration, helped you deal with the storm by receiving you in a studio apartment with an air mattress. She became the person you adored most in the whole world and never lacked frankness in her words.

Both of you moved forward together; now, you succeeded in modeling, and you could search for something much more comfortable living now in a pent-house, but always side by side.

You arrived at the spacious kitchen connected to the dining room and were met with an exquisite aroma, akin to the dishes she professionally prepared. You tied your hair in a ponytail and moved the chair to sit facing the counter.

Crossed fingers and your chin resting on your hands, you noticed she expected your presence when she twisted her torso, leaving a plate with toast and homemade raspberry jam on the marble counter in front of you.

You waited a moment to grab one of the perfectly made toasts and spread the jam in the toast; you felt the tension in the air. You knew of her disapproving stance regarding your situation with Pedri, and you knew she was preparing the usual sermon.

"Want to say something about it?" It was as if she had read your mind; turning her back, you sat up straighter on the stool, your distressed chest making your heart pump more blood than usual.

"No," you replied dryly, as you took a bite of toast.

"Alright, then it'll be up to me." You felt fear travel up your spine to the buzzing in your head and a high-pitched tone ringing in your ears.

You tried to breathe normally, but it was impossible. Her actions guided your eyes; she put the angel food cake in the oven and turned around, sitting on the stool in front of you, looking at you incredulously.

"He left at seven in the morning. When was the last time he stayed the following morning with you? I know you don't want to hear this, and I understand that you're into him. But don't let that blind you from what's really happening here. You're too intelligent for this, too good for someone who treats you like an option." Her words were always harsh, and she never hesitated to tell you the bleak truth without flinching. But it wasn't what you needed now, and her words were insignificant in front of the formidable figure that Pedri occupied in your mind.

There were very few people who dared to challenge your perspective, and Elena was brave enough to do it, even though her attempts always ended in defeats.

And defeats consisted in your denial, where you decided to take off your glasses after seeing what was there. You knew it existed and acknowledged it deep down, but hearing someone throw out statements so lightly without knowing him in the homely intimacy where he could unfold without prejudices, was something only you could discover.

The 'Open Sesame' didn't work with all tones, and not everyone acquired the privilege of opening such a treasure. So, you assumed it was envy.

"Maybe it’s a mess, maybe it’s complicated, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth a damn!" Your voice began to rise in volume the more anger you vented at her, who was innocent of it all. You noticed her furrowed brow, her attempts to help, every time she threw you a lifeline, you chose to ignore it, believing you could swim the remaining yards to shore alone.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to find a balance, but your aggressiveness seemed to have reached its peak.

"I’ll sort it out myself, alright?" You exhaled, continuing your defense. "So just back off, Ele. I’m sick of needing your approval for everything. I’ll make my choices, even if they’re not in your rulebook." You spoke with a passive-aggressive tone. "You think you know him? You have no clue, none whatsoever." You got up from your seat, giving the countertop a light tap, and shook your head indignantly.

"I just want what's best for you, y/n," She whispered, looking you in the eyes with honesty. You headed towards the door disappearing from her sight.

You knew that she wanted to protect you like she did from the very first moment.

Despite being your age, she showed herself to be more mature than you. You were like her baby chick, and she had the instinct to keep you under her wings, but she had to admit that you had to learn defense by yourself.

And sometimes you need to fail to build your path.

There was no better remedy in your routine than drowning yourself in work to stop thinking about all the dilemmas surrounding your life. At least for a few hours.

Growing within the fashion industry was difficult without contacts; if you wanted to achieve something, you had to consider the hurdles you might carry in your backpack. But your resilience and pride prevented anyone else, terrified of having a future of subordination, from winning.

Today's meetings were about agreements for your brand, a dream that grew with you from your mom reading you bedtime stories to the present day.

You had put so much effort and creativity into your project that, regardless of what happened externally, your priority would always be there. No affair or argument could steer you away from that.

All your distractions due to logical thoughts vanished upon arriving at your apartment. You turned on the lights; Elena had left you a message informing you that she would stay at her boyfriend's house for the night.

Your home felt empty without her blasting music through the speakers and constant movements around the house. You cracked your neck, leaving your faux leather coat on the entryway rack. You lazily tossed your bag onto the couch, sitting beside it. You unbuckled your heels, freeing your feet.

A contained sigh escaped your nostrils, easing your chest a bit. You heard thousands of notifications coming from your bag. Worried, you unzipped it and searched for the phone, unsure of what was happening.

You glanced at the news headlines and the numerous social media posts where you were being tagged. You thought you had successfully escaped last time. The carefully revised alibi by both managers to divert media attention from your relationship had been futile.

But it seemed not entirely effective; without any evidence or concrete proof, just a blurry and deficient photo was enough for them to create a compelling scene for the public.

You clicked on a specific article; its name caught your attention, "The New Target of Love: The Boy in Her Chaos - Will He Survive?" You knew it wasn't the smartest decision you could make; the echoes of the voices of the people closest to you resonated in your ears. But you were alone and had nothing better to do at that moment.

The devil on your right shoulder encouraged and forced you to keep reading; with each sentence and word, your tear ducts were ready to expel the salty drops from your eyes.

You couldn't understand why journalists consistently targeted your romantic relationships instead of focusing on your professional endeavors, where you worked, and strived every day to show the world that you were more than just a pretty face. But in a sexist world, you had to accept without a murmur the things they wrote without any pity, driven by money and interactions.

Had you signed up for this life, or was it something gradually inserted into your brain about what it had to be?

You found yourself seated at your computer with a bottle of wine by your side, seemingly engrossed in reading each of the articles criticizing you and perpetuating a negative reputation of yourself.

You had poured a small amount of the burgundy liquid into your glass. Some sort of masochism consumed you, and without noticing, you began to pour more and more wine into the glass, your heart filling with misery, pausing at every clever word that defined your identity on the internet. Because all of the words seemed monotone.

Until the glass was no longer enough to swallow the bitter pill, you stared at the bottle, contemplating your next move. You shrugged and reached for the bottle with difficulty, your vision truly distorted, no longer having a sense of space.

You leaned back in the couch and took a long swig that burned your throat, feeling your heart rate rise.

You decided you had gone too far, abruptly leaving the computer on the table in front of you. When you tried to get up, you fell backward by inertia, unbalanced. That's when you realized you weren't even paying attention to the news but mindlessly scrolling your mouse.

The tears you had been holding back for over an hour and a half streamed down your cheeks immediately. Now, you couldn't turn back and felt trapped within your own uncontrollable body.

Gut-wrenching sobs made your body tremble, and at that moment, all you could think of was his touch, how every time you cried, he carefully wiped your cheeks and assured you that this too shall pass.

With tears and alcohol blurring your vision, it wasn't hard to find his number as you had it pinned in your messaging app. You opened his chat and immediately tapped the call icon.

You placed your phone to your ear, hearing the beeps from the other end, while your body, consumed by sorrow, couldn't help but continue shedding tears.

You perceived a noticeable change from silence to a clear indication that the call had been answered. You tried to stifle your crying by biting your lip, but it seemed this battle wouldn't let you emerge victorious.

"Love, are you crying?" You wanted to respond, but his voice only intensified your desire to cry; you longed to feel his warmth. You still didn't understand why you decided to go this far. "y/n, I'm worried. Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?" You tried to take a deep breath to provide an answer.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and then placed it on your chest, trying to assist in the calming process. "It's so exhausting." These were the words that came out of your mouth as you exhaled.

He still didn't understand exactly what you were talking about, but you kept talking. "I think I can't be with you anymore." Your voice came out strained; you truly didn't want to say those words. You clung to the arm of the chair with one hand, squeezing it, waiting to hear the response on the other side.

"What?" He couldn't comprehend how he had woken up at two in the morning, and you were talking about cutting ties. "Love, listen to me. Why don't you go to sleep, and tomorrow, we spend the day at the country house?" On the other end of the line, he easily realized the moment he picked up that you were drunk.

"Okay." You affirmed with a nod, resting your head on the armrest, and lifting your feet to stretch out on the sofa. "I love you a lot." Your face contracted again, a sign that tears would return.

"You too." He replied, and you were the one who ended the call, slightly calmer about the reflections the articles had left and the incoherent thoughts that had arisen from them.

You left the phone by your side and curled up, hugging yourself, seeking warmth without the help of a blanket. You closed your eyes, praying that the world would change radically tomorrow, although you knew it was an unlikely hope. You never wished more than for whoever was in the sky to give you a new chance to love in the right way.

You needed to believe in someone; you needed assistance from the universe to not lose the hope that once brought you immense joy. But perhaps genuine love was like Santa Claus, and sooner or later, it would crumble like any other ingenious belief.

And like a shrewd child who receives his Christmas gifts with the same enthusiasm even after learning the hidden truth, you dipped your feet into the transparent chlorinated water.

He watched each of your movements attentively, leaning on one of the pool edges. You plunged, soaking your entire body, and swam towards his direction, resurfacing enveloped in laughter with him.

He embraced you, sharing some of his warmth to your cold body due to the sudden change in the water, and you placed your hands around his waist, looking up at him from his chest.

"I love you so much." You bit your lip, seeking an outlet for your love. He rested his hands on your cheeks and began planting short kisses that spread across your entire face.

"I love you more." He reciprocated, giving two gentle taps on your legs. You jumped, and he took you into his arms grabbing your ass.

Quickly, he changed his position, leaving your back resting on the cold pool wall. The chills went up through your spinal cord, fusing the temperature of the edge and its expression, which never went out of style to make you think that everything you needed was there, with him.

You ran his sculpted shoulders with your palms open, feeling his muscles and intertwined your fingers behind his neck, brushing his hair.

Your lips brushed, and you could feel the electricity that could arise from a simple and minimal contact.

He brought his face to you, holding you tight against the concrete.

It was undeniable the indissoluble bond tied by the threads that led you each time to the same situation, and the core of your life was nourished by its bond.

As your lips collided with fervor, eager to quell the fervent passion, you pulled him closer with your legs still entwined around his waist. Feeling his hardness against your core ignited arousal as he pressed himself firmly, and both of you gasped in the midst of the kiss at the electrifying contact.

Your lips didn't want to part, too hungry for each other's sweet taste. You caught his lower lip between your teeth, pulling it gently to invite your tongue into his mouth. It had become sloppy as you lightly tugged his hair, eliciting a groan.

His hand stealthily ascended, never parting from your lips, traveling from your ass to the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

His tender lips traced a pattern from your cheeks to your neck. You tilted your head back, offering more of your skin for his exploration.

Expertly, his fingers unraveled the straps of your bikini with a single pull, still nestled in your neck. As the air grazed your tightened nipples, your breath hitched when he took one between his fingers, fidgeting and further intensifying the sensation.

Your sensitive boobs elicited desperate whimpers as he continued grinding against you, creating a symphony of pleasure. The air thickened, and your bodies radiated heat.

His lips passionately suctioned a spot, causing your eyes to roll. You were well aware that he would leave a hickey there.

Moving from your neck, his lips trailed down to your collarbone. Frustration built as he skillfully teased the sides of your breasts, deliberately avoiding the attention where you craved it most.

"Pedri, please..." You gently tugged his strands, prompting him to lift his head. Counterfeit innocence gleamed in his pupils.

"What do you need, amor? Tell me, is there something I can do for you?" His gentle caress graced your cheek, and you melted into his simmering touch.

"Please..." He ceased grinding, his hand swiftly traversing to your neck, as your hand descended, grazing his abs.

"If only you could see this beautiful hickey right now," He whispered, tracing the mark and toying with you, his actions inviting your response as he often did.

It was exasperating; no matter how frequently you found yourself in such moments with him, articulating your desires remained a challenge.

"Just do something," you uttered, a touch of despondency in your voice, pouting with pleading eyes. Yet, he remained resolute.

"I just don't know what you want." He shook his head, gently placing a strand of hair behind your ear, mimicking your pout with a teasing tone.

"Alright... just please, babe, suck my tits," you replied with a hint of frustration. His corners lifted, forming a smile, having successfully achieved his goal.

"There she is, that's my good girl, aren't you?" You couldn't help but nod several times steadfastily, just wanting him to stop playing.

His face vanished from your sight as he covered one of your breasts with his mouth. A loud moan escaped your throat, a sound of satisfaction for him as he moved his tongue, savoring your skin. "Was it that difficult?" He gazed at you once more, and you sighed in irritation, prompting him to raise his eyebrows, questioning your actions.

"No." Your fingers traced his chest as he continued sucking with determination.

Moving lower, you reached the edge of the swim trunks' fabric. However, as you did, he pulled away with a frown. "Who said you could touch?" You mirrored his expression confused.

"Last night, you scared me a lot. Do you think it was funny for me? No, so you can't decide who's having fun, okay?" Your chest felt heavy, yet you found a strange allure in his dominant low voice, even though you wanted to object.

"I thought..." He wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling you back and shutting your mouth with his thumb. He watched as you sucked it, humming and biting his plump lips.

"You didn't think shit. Now, jump." He firmly gripped your hips, lifting you effortlessly to the pool's edge. Seated, you patiently awaited his guidance, uncertainty accelerating your heartbeat.

Intense eye contact heightened the tension. His fingers delicately traced over your thighs, starting from the outer part, then gently grazing your clothed intimacy. He devoured you with his gaze.

"Lean back for me, baby." You did as he pleased leaning in your elbows.

He tapped on your thighs, a signal to lift your hips, and he removed the sole fabric covering your body and throwing it to your side. He took your legs and placing them over his shoulders. Spreading you open. A groan escaped him at the sight, reveling in your arousal.

"So wet, just for me," he murmured, running his fingers through your folds, collecting your juices and parting your lips to spread the liquids.

You pressed closer, yearning for more. "Just for you." Suddenly, a firm spank on your sensitive area made you shudder, and you gasped. "Behave," he commanded, throwing you a dominant look.

Circling your clit, he gradually increased the pace. Tilted back, moans escaped uncontrollably. Another spank followed, and you met his gaze. "Keep your eyes on me, princess. Watch as I pleasure you like no one else could."

His words wielded a powerful influence in every scenario. Returning to your pussy, he made his way to slip two fingers inside you easily as you were soaked by now. The reflex to close your eyes surfaced, but his commanding words echoed in your mind.

He initiated a rhythmic motion, penetrating and withdrawing, targeting your most sensitive depths, obscene wet sounds, thumb still teasing your bud. Overwhelmed by the intensity, you sought stability, bringing your index finger to your mouth, biting down to anchor yourself. "You can grab my hair, baby," he suggested, prompting a satisfying sigh as you obediently followed his directive.

As the synchronization of your movements intensified, he decided to elevate the pleasure further. His mouth joined the sensual dance, lasciviously spitting your core, eliciting a contented hum from you.

As his mouth drew near your clit, enveloping it ably, a scream escaped your lips, worthy of a scene of a pornographic film. His name slipped through your mouth, an inadvertent encouragement that fueled his tenacity to excel, delve deeper, move faster, and render you numb in ecstasy.

In the intimacy, he displayed a reflection of his approach on the field, always seeking ways to enhance and achieve peak performance, a relentless pursuit of reaching his full potential at what he knew he was one of the bests, even when he didn't want to admit it.

There was no sweeter melody than your filthy moans. His crotch throbbed aching, aware that just a few pumps would make him reach his climax. But he needed to focus on you first, even though he rolled his hips against the concrete, trying to calm down his needs.

He groaned, shutting his eyes and digging his tongue into your hole. Your legs entwined around his neck, the tight knot of pleasure building as you moved your hips in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue.

"Pedri, I'm..." You shouted, the words hanging in the air unfinished, as he entered both, fingers with tongue, increasing the pace with each successive motion.

He opened his eyes again, locking onto yours, brimming with passion beneath the sun. His nose brushing against your clit, combined with his bambi-like eyes in contrast to the authority he held over you, escalate the moment as you tightly grasped his hair, evoking the release of your juices.

He couldn't help but stop pressing against the wall and squeeze his shaft inescapably, captivated by the way you adhered to what he said, even if it meant he had to assert control with a firm hand, correcting your inclination to lean back a few times.

He loved how obedient you were and how your body reacted.

Your high-pitched sounds spurred him to slip his hand inside his swim trunks, almost moaning at the sensations created by his own touch and the enticing arch of your back. He found himself immersed in the sweet taste and intoxicating fragrance that surrounded him.

He went up and down with his hand on his dick fervently, trembling in sync with you. "Are you going to come, my love? Do it for me," his deep voice making you feel so close. You played with one of your hardened nipples between your fingers. You affirmed with the other hand on his hair, and he hummed against you in response. "Oh, my god." you mumbled.

His vibrations heightened your euphoria, and the combination of his tongue and fingers left you feeling overstimulated. As you screamed arching your back, you became undone, laying flat, straightening your arms at your side and shuddering as you felt him persisting in his ministrations.

Too blind to reach his own pleasure to think about anything else, he continued pounding his dick, gripping his tip as he parted his lips, releasing ecstatic sounds and feeling the reverberations across his body. Leaning against your abdomen, he sensed his shots filling his shorts as he lowered his pace.

You tenderly ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, both basking in the tranquility of the moment as his chest rose and fell. Minds empty.

"Come here, baby," you whispered. He propelled himself up from the water and leaned flat at your side.

As you lay down on the cold poolside with him, he placed his hand on your waist, burying his head in your neck. He rubbed his nose, sensing how your perfume delicately mixed with expelled pheromones, obtaining a small giggle from you.

You swung your leg over his waist, leaning your chest towards him, and stroked his wet hair.

"Thank you," you smiled with closed eyes, sighing. "It's just what I needed."

"I like hearing that," he said, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. You looked like a fallen angel with your smudged mascara, swollen lips, tired eyes, and blush spreading across your cheeks.

His gaze instinctively dropped to your neck, observing the love mark on your skin. Though in his mind, he still questioned if this was truly love.

Without delving too much into his thoughts, he gently pecked your lips.

"Pedri..." you sighed, coming down from the adrenaline rush. Sitting up, you supported yourself with your hands and looked at him, recalling internet articles and Elena's words.

"Already want to talk about that?" he asked, huddled up, absorbing the remaining sunlight.

"I'm going to shower," you said, rising from the ground, creating a space for anticipation, allowing him to process and reflect. You knew the house perfectly, having visited many times with the understanding that no one could see you and spend the entire day together.

But meaningful memories were scarce, and you clung to them, hoping that someday it could be more than the fear of being seen together, unable to go to a restaurant or travel together.

You entered the shower, letting the cold water make you reconsider your beliefs. You trusted that, for the first time, you had found something real, a gentleman who stood out in the world of ordinary men, wanting to keep you safe.

You also trusted that you would walk on nails and endure all the thorns of a rose just to be with him. But genuinely, love should be about facing painful situations to prove love for a person, or love should feel welcoming, a place where you would stay for eternity if it had to be so?

You analyzed it, the rain falling on you as you cleaned your body. You wouldn't stay with Pedri; he never felt like a place where you could unload all your baggage without fear.

After all, coming from past relationships, he was your sanctuary at first, stemming from more deficient and unstable experiences. You couldn't stop the solitary tear that escaped your eye.

Since the night you met, you should have realized that nothing good could come from something that was supposed to be just for a night. But you didn't want to listen.

You left the shower, unable to continue ruminating in your head without fainting in the attempt. The drops that weren't allowed to fall from your tear ducts were released by your hair.

You grabbed your clothes, still absorbed in your thoughts. When you finished dressing, you placed your hand on the doorknob. Behind it lay the definition of the future of this strange relationship, and the confrontation was something that terrified you.

You walked into the living room to find him seated, wrestling with his thoughts, head bowed, facing away. Approaching him, you crossed your arms in front of his neck and hugged him, taking in his freshly scented and the slight dampness of his hair. He looked at you wearily, unsure of what would happen, and you gave him a kiss on the cheek before sitting next to him on the gray sofa.

You took his hand with love; you couldn't deny that, despite everything, he had been the source of most of your joys in the last four months. You took a deep breath before letting it out and started speaking.

"Are you mine?" His hand tensed, and his brow furrowed. He didn't understand where such a sudden question came from.

"What?" He responded confused, almost pulling away from you.

"Are you mine or not?" You still hoped for a more certain answer.

"I don't understand where your question is coming from." His expression showed he had never really thought about something like that. At least, was there some kind of feeling for you in his heart? You wondered which person you had been with all this time.

"Just answer it." You let go of his hand; your voice carried a tone of desperation and anguish. You knew you wouldn't get anywhere, but you still needed to cling to the few hopes that remained.

"I don't understand what you mean by 'yours'; we never talked about..." He tried to make another excuse in front of your eyes. It felt as if he were treating you like a little girl, who would eventually leave the question unanswered once she got tired.

"I need to know where we stand! Do you want to be with me or not?" You no longer knew why you kept trying about something that wouldn't change. You stood up from the sofa, and he avoided looking at you.

"Why do you have to make it so complicated? We're just having fun." He shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. That response could have been worse than a straightforward no.

"Having fun? Do you think I'm with you to have fun with how the media calls me a slut, Pedro?" You shook your head in disbelief, letting out a bitter, pained laugh. "Four months enduring your ambiguities while defending you in front of my friends, saying you needed time." Your voice faltered, recalling all the arguments you had faced, thinking that at some point, everything would change.

"I didn't think you felt that way." He detached himself from his actions, as if it were so simple. Still avoiding eye contact.

"You said you loved me! Did you ever feel genuine love for me?" Your heart tightened; all this couldn't be a big lie where you were the only one playing a game that was already resolved.

"I don't know." He whispered, unsure of how you would react to such an unsure yet determinant answer. Your eyes blurred with contained tears; you couldn't cry like this in front of him.

"You knew everything you were doing; you knew that I was yours, and you didn't care." You screamed, desperate for him to show some emotion, to show that something of everything you had experienced had a hint of reality.

"It wasn't like that." He replied in the same flat tone, this time looking at you and realizing the tears that were falling, while you were motionless, feeling the room spin around you, and your ears ringing again.

"It was exactly like that." You had been sincere from your first conversation, under that neon light on a private yacht. A party where you didn't want to be, he approached you for that simple reason; you were the only girl who hadn't looked at him.

And you had found someone whom you thought had the will and power to heal all your wounds. But you ended up dancing with shadows in glass, with something ephemeral that you thought could be eternal. While you ended up being one of the many prey in his history.

"I gave you everything, I told you about my past and how I needed someone to trust, and you ended up being like everyone else." You released a silent sob and headed towards the room, where you had left your backpack. You were supposed to spend a weekend together, and now everything was withered. Your feigned acts of believing that magic still existed were in vain.

"Where are you going?" You gasped, bumping into him in the door frame; he placed his hands on your shoulders, concerned.

"I called Elena; she'll come to pick me up." You hadn't even talked to your best friend when you sneaked away with Pedri at noon; she would do everything to stop you from leaving, and you preferred not to tell her. But she, without hesitation, as soon as you asked, was already on her way.

"We can try to fix it." You knew he was only offering the response your ears craved. But you weren't going to fall for his spells. This time, his method of still having your strings to manipulate you like a puppet wouldn't work.

"I won't be with someone who never cared about me." You walked to the door, lowering the latch, and turned around once more; he looked at you from a considerable distance. He wasn't going to try to stop you, and that was what hurt the most. "Good luck, Pedro."

You left the house, and the evening air enveloped you. You walked along the walkway made of rocks, each step feeling heavier than the last. Another relationship failing, another person disappointing and discarding you like a crumpled note, forgotten in the margins of a story that never reached its intended conclusion.

Your tears flowed freely down your cheeks now that you weren't facing him. You stood on the street, waiting for Elena to arrive. She had every right to tell you 'I told you so,' and she would be justified.

You saw her black car approaching from the end of the street, parking right in front of you. You hesitated for a moment to get in, embarrassed to ignore someone who only sought your happiness.

She rolled down the window, and your eyes locked inviting you in. Opening the door, she extended her arms, offering solace. Tears streamed down your face as you looked for refuge on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Ele." You lifted your head, and she gently wiped away your tears. Shaking her head, she dismissed your apologies.

"I'll always be here by your side. You're the one who needs to learn, but I'll never leave you adrift, okay?" You pouted, and your tears continued to flow.

You both settled back into your seats, stealing glances at the house. A part of you lingered there, and a lump formed in your throat. You sensed that distancing yourself was the only thing that could save you from descending into delirium. Now, you must gather the fragments of your heart once more and rebuild it on your own.

Your eyes went directly to the hickey he had left. You wanted to rip that skin off, not wanting to have him in your memories in any way.

Leaning your head against the window, you wondered what could have been if fame hadn't been the haunting specter in your life. You guessed that you will never actually know.

#pedri x reader #pedri angst #pedri smut #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football angst #football smut #pedri imagine

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heyjudeb · 2 months

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Lake Secrets - Jude Bellingham

Chapter 2: You Can Trust Me

Summary: Grace Alexander Arnold, an architecture student, looks forward to a quiet summer at her brother Trent's lake villa. Her plans change when Trent's best friend, Jude Bellingham, arrives with his family. As Grace and Jude spend more time together, a secret romance begins to grow. Amidst the peaceful lake and family gatherings, will their hidden feelings last, or will they fade away with the summer? Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, emotional moment, anxiety

Note: The story will develop more in this chapter, they will share intimate moments

“Come on, Jude, that was way too far!” Trent complained as he swam toward the ball, which had splashed down several yards away. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the lake.

“Sorry, my bad!” I called back, laughing. Jobe splashed water at me playfully, shaking his head.

“You always go overboard, bro,” Jobe said with a grin. “Literally.”

Everyone else was sitting near the shore, either deep in conversation or doing their own thing. Diane and my mom were chatting under a large umbrella, while Trent’s dad was stretched out on a lounge chair, soaking up the sun.

Grace was sitting on a towel, a book in her hands. Every so often, she would look up, watching us play. Her gaze lingered, and it was clear she was admiring the sight of us having fun in the water. She looked like she wanted to join in but was holding back.

She was wearing a white short dress with straps that stood on her forearms, revealing her bare shoulders. She always made sure to pull the strap up on her left shoulder as if to cover something. We would sometimes make eye contact and smile. Anytime I said something funny, I felt the need to look for her approval, which I got every time.

"Hey, Grace. Why don't you join us?" Jobe, my brother, called out. Her smile slowly turned into a worried expression, and she sat up from laying on her stomach.

"I'm good, Jobe. I don't feel like swimming today!"

"She's not into this, mate," Trent quickly spoke for her. I couldn't help but wonder if there might be something more to this, but I decided to let it go.

I also wanted to take a break. We'd been in the water for almost an hour, and I was hungry. Diane and Grace had prepared some delicious snacks that morning in the kitchen: cookies, mini sandwiches, and a variety of other treats. I had watched Grace make them while I ate a late breakfast of cereal at the dining table next to the kitchen. She looked effortlessly pretty while cooking, even in casual clothes and with her hair in a simple braid. Her face was slightly puffy from sleep, her skin clear and fresh. I couldn't help but think how lovely it would be to wake up and see her first thing in the morning. She seemed like the kind of girl who would understand you, truly get your inner self, and make life easier by being the best partner. She didn’t come across as complicated to deal with, yet she still held an air of mystery.

"Alright, how about we take a break to eat?" Trent said, as if reading my thoughts.

We all nodded and got out of the water. Diane handed each of us a towel and put the food basket in front of us where we sat. I munched on the mini sandwiches Grace had prepared, trying to catch a glimpse of her without making it obvious.

"Sweetie, do you want something too?" my mom asked Grace, making her look up from her book. She nodded and placed the book aside, moving to sit between me and Trent.

She grabbed a sandwich and started eating. Jobe was making everyone laugh, and her attempts to laugh without spitting out her food were very cute. Eventually, everyone gathered around to eat until there was no food left.

As dusk approached, our parents decided to call it a day, leaving only me, Jobe, Trent, and Grace by the lake. They gathered everything and took the short walk back to the villa, leaving us with some towels and our clothes. "How about we take another swim before leaving?" Jobe asked, winking at me. I couldn’t quite understand what he was hinting at.

"Sure, bro. Let's do it!" Trent agreed, and we all stood up, except for Grace. She remained seated, avoiding our looks. "Wanna make a run for it?" Trent looked at me, and I laughed and nodded in response. Jobe held back as we made a run for it, but then I heard a scream from behind me, causing Trent and me to halt and spin around. Grace was screaming, and Jobe was carrying her towards the water, trying to make a joke of it.

"Please, Jobe! Put me down! I don't want to go into the water!" Grace continued to scream, kicking as Jobe neared the water's edge. There was a raw edge of panic in her voice, verging on tears.

"No, Jobe, stop!" Trent yelled, sprinting towards them, clearly alarmed.

Jobe sensed the seriousness of the situation and stopped, slowly setting Grace down on her feet. She clutched her chest, blinking rapidly, trying to compose herself and hold back tears.

"I'm sorry, Grace. I didn't mean to scare you," Jobe said, regret plain in his voice.

I approached cautiously, standing behind Trent, who was comforting her with soothing touches on her shoulders. Grace looked distant, trying to regain her composure.

"Hey, Grace. Are you okay?" I asked softly, my concern evident. I wanted nothing more than to hold her close and calm her racing heart.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Grace quickly replied, her gaze darting between all of us, overwhelmed by the rush of questions. "It's okay! I just panicked because... It was sudden."

Trent wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. "Hey, how about we call it a day, too?" We all nodded and gathered our towels. I kept my concerned gaze on Grace, which she seemed to notice. She flashed a faint smile at me and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, letting me know she was alright. I gave her one more questioning look.

"I'm okay!"

"Alright, good," I whispered back to her, feeling a bit awkward, like I was crossing a line between caring and flirting, especially with Trent nearby. We continued walking towards the villa, and Jobe kept apologizing to Grace repeatedly until she finally convinced him she was okay. She seemed chilly in her short dress as she tried to wrap a dirty towel around her shoulders.

"Here," I pulled her aside from the group and draped my zipper hoodie over her shoulders. She hesitated at first but then placed her hands on top of mine, gently squeezing them.

"Thank you, Jude," she said softly, walking beside me while the boys walked ahead. She held the book close to her chest, and my oversized hoodie looked like a dress on her.

"Still hooked on Bukowski, I see?" I asked, smiling at her.

"Yeah, another day, reading the same thing," she replied with a smile, glancing down. I noticed she found it difficult to maintain eye contact with me, even though her green eyes had been the subject of my daydreams since we arrived. I fought the urge to let her know that.

"You have beautiful eyes, you know?" I lost the battle. She seemed taken aback by my comment, continuing to look down but smiling nonetheless. "Thank you!"

"Are you always this shy?"

"Depends on who I'm talking to," she replied, finally meeting my gaze after a moment's pause. "Some people are intimidating." "Am I one of them?" I asked, feeling like I might have put her on the spot, but our conversation was going so well I wanted to keep it going. "Maybe!" she replied with a playful smirk, giving me a thoughtful look that made me laugh.

....

As soon as we reached the house, we took showers and changed into fresh clothes, all gathering on the backyard patio one by one. Grace was the last one to come down. We were all having a glass of wine by the firepit, laughing and talking. I couldn't really make out her figure until she approached fully because of the dark.

Her braids were out, and her hair lay on her shoulders, still wearing my hoodie. She looked comfortable in it, and it suited her better than me. Miraculously, the only empty spot was a bean bag next to me. She approached slowly and smiled at me as the fire illuminated my face.

"Hey," she spoke softly.

"Hey, you feeling better?" I asked, wanting to make sure she was comfortable after the incident at the lake.

She gave me an assuring smile. Our voices drowned in the noise of the others talking, the fire crackling, and lots of laughter. It felt like it was just the two of us. The darkness provided a sort of shield for me to freely look at her.

"Are you enjoying your stay so far?" she asked, keeping our conversation going.

"So far, so good. I really like this place!" I responded. "The house is very nice, and the view is breathtaking."

"It is," she said, either looking at my face or down at her hands while talking. "It will be a nice vacation break for you guys!"

"You said you've been coming here with your family every summer," I recalled her words from the first day. "Do you still find the place exciting?"

She sighed and leaned further into the bean bag. "Uh, yeah! But, the older I get, the more I want to experience other places as well. My dad isn't really a big fan of me traveling alone or staying someplace else... to study alone."

It felt like she was confessing an issue of hers. I wanted her to trust me, to feel comfortable talking to me about anything. I'm sure she doesn't do that very often. "I want to do my major abroad. But my dad wants me 'close' to him." she used air quotes and seemed hurt and defeated remembering her father's words. "Why is that?" "Just a stupid conclusion my dad has." She didn't want to continue the conversation, so I didn't push her any further.

While having a good time with everyone, the fire slowly started to die down. I took a look and saw Grace already asleep on her bean bag. She brought her legs up to her chest, and put her hands all the way inside my hoodie, holding them near her face.

"Guys, I'm calling it a night. I'm really tired," my dad said, and my mother agreed, getting up to leave with him.

"Yeah, it’s been a long day," Trent said, stretching. "I think I’ll turn in too." He followed my parents inside.

Jobe yawned and nodded. "Me too. This vacation life is wearing me out." Trent's mom noticed Grace fast asleep on the bean bag. She approached her slowly, lightly tapping her on the shoulder. "Sweetheart, we're heading to bed. How about you continue your sleep in your room?"

Grace hummed in response, not really registering what her mother was saying. Diane looked at me, and we both smiled at Grace's sleepy state. Diane tried waking her up again, but Grace only opened and closed her eyes a few times, not fully awake.

"Do you want me to take her up to her room, Mrs. Arnold?" I offered, not wanting to disturb her. Diane looked at me gratefully and nodded.

I stood up from my bean bag and carefully scooped Grace into my arms. She naturally nestled her head into the crook of my neck, her hands tucked inside the hoodie's sleeves, close to her chest. She felt like the missing piece of my puzzle, fitting perfectly in my arms.

Once we got inside, I said goodbye to Diane. Her room was on the first floor. She wished me goodnight and entered quietly, trying not to wake her sleeping husband who had called it a night way before us.

I took slow and careful steps on the stairs, fully aware of their creaking. After each step, I glanced at Grace, ensuring she wasn't disturbed. When I reached her bedroom door, I struggled to open it slightly.

Thankfully, her bedside lamp was on for some reason, casting a soft glow and helping me navigate the unfamiliar room. I placed her delicately on the bed. She snuggled her face into the pillow as soon as it touched the soft surface, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Thank you..." she managed to say in a raspy, low voice.

"Of course. Have a good night's sleep, Grace," I responded. My inner self urged me to kiss her forehead goodnight. Instead, I gently pulled the bed cover up to her shoulders. That's when I noticed a scar on her left shoulder, where my fallen hoodie exposed her skin. It was on the side she had tried to hide earlier at the lake. I brushed my fingers on it slightly, causing her to shiver. I stood up from the bed and turned off the light next to her, slowly making my way out of the room and into my own. I took off my shirt and shorts and crashed into bed only wearing my boxers. I was a bit tired myself too, but I really wanted to know the history behind that scar. .....

It had been more than a week since we arrived. Our families' bond had grown significantly over these days. Aside from our morning exercises and evening talks, I rarely spent time with Trent alone.

Our mothers were really enjoying the villa, constantly cooking something new and sipping wine on the porch. Our dads engaged in debates over various topics, beers in hand, as they relaxed by the lakeside. And then, there were always the four of us doing things together.

And green is still my favorite color.

My obsession with Grace has grown. The more time we spend together, the more she begins to trust me. Now, she maintains eye contact while we talk. She opens up about her passion for architecture, detailing her studies, her close bond with Trent, and sharing her likes and dislikes. I find myself struggling with the question of whether Grace feels a deeper connection toward me or if she is simply being friendly. It seems more than mere coincidence that we always end up seated next to each other, and that chores are consistently assigned to us as a pair.

She still has my hoodie. The other night, as we both got up for some water, I caught sight of her in the kitchen, wearing my hoodie and shorts. There was a moment of surprise in her eyes when she noticed me. She quickly tried to explain, mentioning how comfortable it was and apologizing, saying she would return it.

Instead of insisting, I simply said, "No, keep it. It looks way better on you."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, a soft smile playing on her lips. It was a spontaneous comment, but one that felt right in the moment. Seeing her wear my hoodie, looking effortlessly comfortable and somehow even more attractive, stirred a warmth in me that I couldn't deny. Let's go for a swim today, lads," Trent interrupted my racing thoughts.

Jobe eagerly agreed, but Grace lowered her gaze and muttered something under her breath. It wasn't the first time she had declined to swim. Despite hanging out with us by the lake, she never ventured into the water.

Sitting together on the patio bean bags, Trent and Jobe moved to prepare for swimming while I stayed behind, drawing closer to Grace, hoping for a moment of privacy.

"Hey, is there a reason you never join us in the lake?" I asked softly.

Her discomfort was palpable, evident in the way she shifted in her seat." It's just not my thing-" she spoke quickly.

"Can you come with us this one time? Please!" I pleaded, hoping to convince her. But as soon as I noticed her beautiful green eyes getting foggy, I knew I shouldn't push her further.

"I'll just stay in my room this time," she said quickly, standing up and leaving before I could say anything else. Her sudden outburst left a lingering sense of concern in the air. .....

We we're back at the dining table in the evening, enjoying another meal after a tiring day at the lake with only us boys. Grace hasn't spoken to me since our last encounter earlier. She quickly munched on something and excused herself sitting at the far end of the backyard near the lake view in the complete dark, with the excuse of wanting to read in peace. Me and the others had a normal routine, had a glass of wine and then went to bed. In my room, I could still see her silhouette by the lake. I decided to go up to her. Everyone was asleep, the only source of light being the moon once again. I tried to make some sound while I approached her from afar, not wanting to scare her. She turned around to look at me, giving me a tired smile and then focused her eyes back at the lake. I sat next to her. Our shoulders brushing. "You know you can trust me, right?" I asked her directly.

"I know," she replied softly, her gaze still fixed on the lake.

"Why are you afraid to swim, Grace?"

She remained silent for a moment, as if weighing whether to open up to me. I reassured her with a gentle touch on her knee.

Her breathing became more audible, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"It's just..." Her voice cracked, and she fell silent again.

"It's okay. Take your time. I'm right here for you." I held her hand firmly, feeling it tremble slightly in mine. "You know that scar you saw on my shoulder the other night?" she asked. I nodded at her, but still surprised she could remember that in her sleeping state. "It happened when i was younger while swimming. Do you see that empty looking house right there?" I nodded. " That's where Lily used to live." "Used to?" I became curious of where she's going with this and why was it affecting her so much. "She died. She was my childhood bestfriend." She let out a small sob, i quickly wrapped my arm around her shoulder, providing her some comfort.

"There's an old pier on the other side of the lake, hidden away now. Lily and I used to go there to play. One day, we were climbing around it, and Lily slipped. She grabbed my leg instinctively, pulling me into the water with her. She hit her head on the metal as we fell."

She paused, her eyes distant as she relived the memory.

"Lily suffered a head injury and died instantly." Grace continued, her voice catching. "I had a hurt leg and some scratches, making it hard for me to stay above the water. But I managed to pull her now-red and bloody body from the water and call for help."

Grace looked at me with sad eyes, almost as if seeking closure. I kissed her forehead gently and rubbed her forearm in reassurance, but she still seemed scared and shaky after all these years.

"So you never swam anymore?" I asked softly. She shook her head, her expression pained. "I'm afraid something bad will happen," she murmured.

"I understand," I said, kissing her temple again. I held her like that for a long time, whispering sweet nothings to her. "But what if we try something different?"

I gently took her hand and helped her stand up. Slowly, I guided her towards the water, feeling her resistance as she shook her head vigorously.

"Hey, hey, hey," I murmured soothingly, holding both her hands. "I'm not going to push you or anything, sweetheart. Just relax."

She nodded hesitantly, her gaze locked with mine, her eyes reflecting fear and uncertainty.

"We will stop whenever you want to. Let's just try to put our foot inside the water," I suggested gently.

"No, no. Jude, no please!" Grace's voice was alarmed, filled with fear.

I cupped her face in my hands and gently placed her forehead against mine, holding her close. "You can trust me, Grace." .......... Coming up next:

Chapter 3: Favorite Poem

Warnings: fluff, physical contact, crying, angst

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #football imagine #football players #kylian mbappe x reader #trent alexander arnold

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