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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year

Text

NO LONGER IN DENIAL

masterlist

pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader, bestfriend!benedict bridgerton x reader

description: anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

warnings: angst, jealous!anthony cos i’m a sucker for him hehe, benedict being a shit stirrer who i adore, fluffiness at the end <3

“Lady Y/N is joining us for dinner this evening, I believe,” Benedict hummed, a small smirk gracing his face as the eldest Bridgerton’s head snapped up, “Mother told me she hopes to, anyway.”

Anthony watched as his sisters fussed excitedly over seeing you, for it had been at least a week since you had graced Aubrey Hall with your presence and they missed you dearly.

Anthony had too, of course, though he’d never admit it was for any reason beyond how highly regarded you were in his family and how much he enjoyed your friendship.

“I very much look forward to seeing her,” Benedict continued, still smirking devilishly, “Though I did have the pleasure of bumping into her as she left Modiste yesterday.”

Anthony furrowed his eyebrows at his brother, “You didn’t tell me that, brother.”

“Must I share every occasion I see Lady Y/N with you, Anthony?” he quipped in reply, crossing his arms over his chest as Colin stifled a laugh, well aware of what was going on, “One might think you jealous.”

“Jealous? You jest, brother. She is my closest friend, I am simply surprised you would not mention even in passing that you saw her,” Anthony spoke through gritted teeth, “Regardless, I look forward to seeing her.”

“Ah, perfect timing!” Francesca grinned as Lady Y/N’s arrival was announced moments later, and in you walked with a gloriously bright smile on your face, though this faltered as you saw the bitter look on Anthony’s face.

“Is everything alright, my Lord?” you asked shyly, taking a few steps towards Anthony, whose expression softened at this, “Have we chosen a bad day to visit? If so I apologise—,”

Suddenly Benedict was at your side now, “It’s quite alright, my dear Lady Y/N. We are all pleased to see you. Might we take a turn about the room? We have some things to discuss!”

“No fair! You saw her yesterday, I want to show her my embroidery,” Hyacinth pouted, though Benedict raised his brow at her and flickered his eyes in Anthony’s direction as if to explain his actions.

Everyone in the family was well aware of the affection shared between you and Anthony, even if he dared not admit how he felt because of his apparent desire not to marry.

Benedict believed he just needed a push to see that you had myriad other options, and that he could only push away his feelings for so long.

“I’m sure Benedict has something important to share, my dear Hyacinth, but I would love to see your embroidery promptly after,” your voice was like honey to the eldest Bridgerton, who fought off the desire to make his own request for a moment of your time, “There is enough of me to go around! My brother will be arriving shortly, also.”

Benedict began whispering almost as soon as you had crossed the room, endeavouring to make you well aware of his plan so as not to cause any discomfort to you.

He didn’t wish for you to be confused by his sudden flirtation, so immediately indulged you with the details of his concocted plan to induce jealousy in his older brother that might finally allow him to be honest about his feelings.

With some hesitation, you accepted his plan.

Benedict was well aware of your feelings for his brother, and you knew this — after all, you had confessed it to him yourself because you trusted him dearly. Much to Anthony’s dismay, nowadays Benedict was your closest friend of all.

Anthony had once filled that role, but as each year passed and your youth slipped away, you had fallen far too in love with him to be so satisfied with a friendship as you were with Benedict.

Benedict was your best friend — Anthony was the love of your life.

Though he did not admit it, you were the love of his too. This is why Benedict’s interference was so necessary as far as the second Bridgerton son was concerned.

It was unfair for you to believe your love unrequited when it was merely his stubborn refusal to see beyond his ‘duty’ as Viscount and head of the household that prevented him from giving in to his feelings.

The plan seemed already to be working by the time you were seated for dinner, far closer to Benedict than to Anthony who sat at the other side of the table.

He scowled as he watched his brother gossiping with you, still irritated by both his earlier remark about seeing you yesterday and his persistence with being the only person in the room to maintain your attention.

“It is working, my dear friend,” Benedict beamed across at you, leaning forward to both better execute his plan and so that you could hear him better, “If looks could kill, my brother would have seen me long since dead and buried.”

You brought your hand to your mouth, hiding the giggle that escaped as you waited to calm before looking across at Anthony, “Benedict!”

You drew in a deep breath, composing yourself before glancing across at the Viscount and catching his eye immediately. His glare was suddenly no more, his lips curling up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You mouthed a small “Hello,” to him, blushing crimson at the intensity of his stare. Despite the conversation going on around him, all he could do was look at you.

The staring contest you seemed to find yourself in was swiftly broken by Benedict’s voice calling your name again, returning you to conversation with him.

The rest of dinner passed much the same — small conversations here and there with the other Bridgertons, longing stares from an increasingly restless Anthony, and teasing comments from Benedict, who was certain that Anthony would be confronting you tonight.

“We should probably call for our carriage, I suppose,” you smiled sadly, disappointed with both how quickly the night had passed by and the fact you’d hardly spoken to Anthony throughout, “I’ve had such a lovely evening. I only wish I could stay longer!”

“You could!” Anthony exclaimed, an unusual outburst for the eldest sibling but one that made all at the table laugh as he rose to his feet, “We could have a room put up for you. It is late, and Wellsbury Hall is quite the distance.”

You bit your lip, smiling at him as he sat back down again, “Oh we couldn’t trouble you with that, my lord.”

“Perhaps my dear friend is right,” your brother disagreed, “It is getting late, and if it is no trouble we would be incredibly grateful. And I hope we might repay you with an invitation to Wellsbury in the near future? I hope to host a ball before the season ends so that my darling sister might finally find a husband.”

His eyes flickered between Benedict and Anthony for a moment and you realised that he must have been in on Benedict’s little plan.

You looked around the room cautiously at every smiling face, before settling your gaze on Anthony with a nod, “Very well then. I’d be delighted. The many childhoods spent staying here overnight are often much missed.”

Lady Bridgerton grinned, “Fantastic. Then it is settled,” she turned to the maids stood by the door, “Please prepare two rooms for our guests as quickly as possible. It is, after all, late, and I’m sure they will soon wish to rest.”

The way Anthony watched you for the rest of dinner made you impossibly nervous.

When the maids told you which rooms were readied, you stood to retire to bed, but not before Benedict offered to show you to the room as it was in his opinion the best decorated.

“Brother, I don’t believe it’s appropriate for you to show Lady Y/N to her room,” Anthony huffed, having had enough now of him being stuck to you like heavy-duty glue, “Perhaps you should allow one of our maids to kindly do so.”

“It is quite alright, Anthony. We are in the comfort of our own home, and I know Y/N quite well enough,” Benedict sing-songed, “Unless you would prefer to show her? The maids are quite busy clearing up.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched at his brother’s comment about knowing you ‘quite well enough’ and so he found himself at your side quickly.

“In fact yes, perhaps I should,” he agreed, a sternness in his tone you’d become used to again today. He was so much gentler with you, but today with you so seemingly far from him he has grown stoic again, “After all, I am the head of this household and you have not let me spend a minute with my closest friend, hm?”

Colin interjected now, aware of all eyes on the conversation, “Perhaps Lady Y/N can make the decision herself?”

“I—,”

“Fine, I concede,” Benedict raised his hands in surrender, “I suppose I’ve not let her leave my side this evening, though you cannot fault me for that. I will bid you goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight brothers.”

He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips for just the gentlest of kisses to the back of it, before he bowed and quickly left the room.

With Anthony facing the other way, towards you, Benedict turned to shoot you a wink before leaving, and nerves bubbled in your gut at the unknown of what was to come.

The kiss to your hand was the final straw for Anthony, who linked his arm with yours and lead you out of the room without another word to anyone else.

You were silent for the walk, but once you stopped still outside of the room you were to sleep in Anthony turned to stand in front of you, his breathing jagged as his eyes searched your face for clues to why he was feeling so furious at your friendship with Benedict.

“Is my brother courting you?” he came right out and asked it, his chest heaving and yours doing so now too as you shook your head.

“Not at all, my lord,” you bit your lip again, before looking down at the ground to avoid his gaze.

He brought his index finger to your chin, lifting your face so that you were forced to look at him again, “And do you wish him to be?”

Again you shook your head, but his finger never left your skin for a moment.

“I was so sure—,”

“Forgive me, my lord, I have just been finding comfort in his friendship of late as I see him regularly about town,” you frowned, suddenly even more conscious of how little time you spent with Anthony in recent weeks.

He leaned ever so slightly closer, “Finding comfort in his friendship? And what of ours?”

“Our friendship, my lord? I—,”

“I apologise, Y/N, but I do not like to see you so close with my brother. Not least because of the fear of a scandal if others saw his behaviour,” he gritted his teeth, “He touches you too often. Leans too close to speak with you and it… it is misleading.”

You gulped, “Why would you be so infuriated by the notion of him courting me, my dear Anthony? He is your brother, and he cares for me. Even if it is not him I wish did so.”

He cocked his head in confusion now, before his eyes widened in realisation of his brother’s scheming. And in considering that, he realised that it had worked.

He’d never wanted to marry, and especially never for love.

But with you stood right there at his finger tips, smiling up at him nervously with a twinkle in your eyes, he threw caution to the wind and realised that you had changed that in him.

He could no longer deny his desire to hold you, to have you entirely as his, to make you his Viscountess.

“Who do you wish to treat you as such, my lady?”

“Surely you can see the answer for yourself, Anthony.”

“I simply wish to hear you say it. But if I must do so first, as a consequence of my foolishness in not seeing it sooner, then so be it. I dislike your closeness to my brother because I miss your attention being mine. I wish to have you at my side always, to laugh with you and dance with you and just talk with you all evening. I do not wish to see Benedict court you because I wish to do so myself.”

“Anthony—,”

“Please, my love, let me finish. I have most probably been in love with you for as long as I have known you, and yet chosen not to see it out of my own stubbornness. If not for my scheming devil of a brother, I might still be in denial. But I love you most ardently, Y/N. And if you feel at all the same then I should like to make you my wife. My viscountess.”

You were speechless, perhaps for one of the first times since meeting Anthony.

You had always told him everything, always saved your last dance for him at balls, always rooted for him in every game of Pall Mall even as his competitor.

And now here he was, the famously anti-marriage Viscount asking if you too wished to wed him.

“Anthony, I had hoped it was clear as day that I too have been unfathomably in love with you for longer than I can explain,” you blushed crimson again under his gaze as a smile spread across his face, “To marry you, well, would be the only way I might find joy in marriage. I know you’ve never sought a match, let alone a love match, but I love you most dearly, my dear Anthony.”

He captured your lips with his as soon as you stopped speaking, knowing that he shouldn’t do so but hoping nobody was around.

Besides, he would soon make you his wife, and he couldn’t contain the excitement.

“I know I’ve previously had my reservations but I am no longer in denial, and I’m sorry for taking my liberties with you by kissing you before we are wed but I could not help myself. And I wish to spend a lifetime kissing you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” he looked shy all of a sudden, which you had never seen before, and you grabbed both of his hands in yours to kiss them.

“Of course, my dear, there is nothing I would like more!”

His smile became impossibly wide, and once more he kissed you out of sheer excitement.

“I’m sorry that this was so abrupt, and I have yet no ring. But my mother will be ecstatic and I plan to give you her betrothal ring because— you are the only woman worthy. And I shall spend our whole life ensuring that I make up for taking so long to do this,” he was vulnerable now, still shy under your careful gaze,

“I had no desire to marry because I had no desire to put the woman I love through the pain of losing me like my mother did my father. She was distraught but— I see now that it is no good wasting time with this fear. However long I might live, I wish to spend those years loving you and making you happy, so that any pain might be worthwhile.”

You kissed him now, tearing your gloves from your hands and reaching up to cup his face and kiss him, “I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. Always. And I cannot wait to be your wife. It will be the greatest honour.”

You were both hot and flustered, and it was taking everything in him not to push open your bedroom door and sweep you off your feet.

But for you, he was a gentleman, and so he settled for one final kiss atop your head and a sweet goodnight.

“We shall tell the others as we break fast tomorrow, perhaps?” you could see the dizzy joy in Anthony’s eyes as he asked this of you, and you nodded profusely.

“I cannot wait, my dear.”

“Then I will bid you good night, my love. I will dream of you, and look forward to seeing you in the morning. Sleep well, my future viscountess.”

“Sleep well, my love.”

As you went to part, you heard a rustle a little way down the corridor, both looking up to see a smug Benedict smirking, leaning on the wall just down the hallway.

“Even I underestimated my own plan. Congratulations, brother. You finally saw sense.”

———

hello! i know this is completely random as i’ve been writing for djats lately but i has this idea and felt the neeeeed to write it. feel free to request more bridgerton fics, as i’m inspired at the moment and rewatching it.

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader jealous #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton one shot #jealous #jealous anthony bridgerton

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ncteez · 5 months

Text

Cherry Boy. [l.c.]

A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space. You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog for chan's happy trail

WORDCOUNT― 10k

PAIRING― lee chan x afab reader

CONTENT― brief break up due to horrible communication skills, virginity loss, reader gets super insecure about her body and personality, fluff, smut obv

NOTE― It's because of those pics...you know the ones. Anyway, shoutout to @ressonancee and @onlyhuis for proof reading this for me! love u guys with my entire being!

smut tags under cut::

SMUT TAGS― virginity loss, makeout session, neck kissing, tit fondling, unprotected sex, belly button kissing, mentions and focus on his happy trail, he’s ticklish oops, blowjob, premature ejaculation, pussy drunk chan forgets how to speak, desperate sex babbling, finger fucking, hand and cock guiding, cream pie

Chan has a dilemma, and yes, it’s one that most men would scoff at.

Trust him when he says that he is so very aware of what is happening around him but he simply cannot manage to muster up the courage, strength, or confidence to admit to you, his lovely and patient girlfriend, that he’s dodging your advances solely because he is the text-book definition of virgin.

He is not only nervous about having sex for the first time, but there also comes the weight of him either not being good enough when he tries, or you laughing in his face and mocking him for it.

You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so fucking in your head if he really could just muster up a tiny amount of confidence to say that to you.

It has been almost two months now since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and throughout this time never once has he done more than a gentle kiss to your lips or lying a slight guiding hand to your waist. It feels so… juvenile, so… middle school for a boyfriend to treat you this way.

Seeing as how the first three dates you went on with him seemed to suggest he was more than willing to be a fulfilling boyfriend who can, hopefully, fill all of the roles that comes with the title– you’re starting to second guess that he ever liked you at all.

Perhaps the twenty-four year old man asked you that night to be his girlfriend out of pity. Or maybe he’s simply changed his mind about you. Regardless of the reason for why he acts like this, it’s getting to you.

Deeply, actually, by this point. It only stung a bit at first, but now it’s starting to feel like he has to be with you as a joke. Why else would he be consistent in wanting to hang out? Why else would he always be inviting you out on well-priced dates and buying you pretty gifts?

It’s a joke.

It has to be a joke.

Oh, but that’s so far from the truth. If you would simply open your eyes, perhaps you’d notice the struggle that your polite little boyfriend goes through each time you try to suggest he make an advance on you.

Even the slight kisses, it makes him suffer from embarrassment at how quickly his body reacts to you.

He likes you so, so fucking much.

“I don’t think I’m feeling it today.” You respond to the muffled voice of your “boyfriend” on the phone, asking if he can come over to see you.

“What? Why not?” He asks back, his voice concerned.

“Do you want me to be honest?” You finally say with a long and annoyed sigh, giving up on any hope that this relationship will ever go any further than it already has.

You’re fed up with feeling unwanted, undesired, and possibly even uninteresting. He’s the one person in your life that you care about when it comes to who you are and what you look like. His reaction, or lack thereof, regarding you as both a person and his girlfriend feels astonishing and does nothing more than make you question what it is that you’re doing wrong.

It has to be you, right? Perhaps your body isn’t as pretty as he wants it to be, is that it? Or maybe your voice annoys him? God, what if he cringes thinking of how you’d move if he were to actually have sex with you? What if he doesn’t think about it at all?

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to let the intense insecurity weigh on you. You always promised yourself that you’d never let a man make you rethink your worth.

You need to live up to that promise.

“Chan, it’s been nice and all, but I think we should break up.”

The silence he offers to you is entirely too loud, and feels more like a confirmation in your head that this is the exact choice you should be making right now.

He’s thrown for a loop though, standing at his kitchen table staring off at the wall as you say those words.

What did he do wrong?

“Wha–” He cuts himself off, trying to find words to say. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

You let out another breathy sigh, annoyed at the way he plays dumb.

“I’m shocked you’re asking me that. I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to break up with me yourself, y’know?” You let out a sad little chuckle before you feel that insecurity he instilled in you burn against your eyes. “I’m just making it easy for you, so that you can go and spend your time with someone that you’d rather be around.”

He pauses, still dumbfounded by what you’re saying.

“Why are you saying that?” He bellows out in a deeper tone, making you feel as though he’s angry with you now. “I’d rather be around you.”

“Oh? Is that right?” You roll your eyes now, annoyed. “Is that why you push me away when I try to kiss you? Or what about– what about when you left the party last week after I sat on your lap?”

Ah. He knew it. He knew he should have admitted it. Despite his consistent apologies for his body acting on instinct to run away from you, he should have really tried to see from your point of view rather than his own. Even if he only ran to hide the fact that he is horribly aroused by you at all times, in every given moment.

You can hear a pained groan fall from his lips, and a door opening on his end.

“I’m coming over.”

He doesn’t let you protest, and instead hangs up the phone. You sit there in silence at his rejection of your break up. As if it were his choice? As if he had any say in it? You want to break up, that’s final.

Still, that doesn’t explain why you don’t call him back to tell him not to come. It also doesn’t explain why your heart is thumping against your chest in anticipation.

Or, maybe there is something to explain why you’re feeling butterflies over his blatant refusal. Perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt wanted by him?

That also makes it worse. Why should your boyfriend make you feel this way only when you’re breaking up with him? Why can you only see that he cares when he’s faced with the idea of losing you? By the way he’s acting, you can argue that he wouldn’t be losing anything precious to him if you were to walk out of his life right this moment.

Still, you sit here in wait. More curious now to see if maybe you'll figure out why he refuses to look at or touch you in a way that would show you he wants you.

The first thing Chan does when he steps through the door of your apartment is slip his shoes off. The second thing he does is stand there awkwardly, as if every thought left his head upon seeing your face.

You look like you’ve been crying.

“This is my fault.” He says with a slight crack in his voice. “Because I keep hiding from you….right?”

You nod silently, remaining on your couch that faces his timid and stiffened figure.

He stares at you, examining the consequences of his own actions.

“You want to break up because I haven’t tried to, like, do things with you.” He winces as he says it, struggling to not feel awkward talking about having sex. He’s embarrassed, but would be even more embarrassed if he lost a girlfriend over this.

“That’s not the only reason.” You shake your head, looking away from him and to your hands as you pick at your nail beds. “I’d be okay with no sex if you’d simply tell me why. The fact that you haven’t told me anything–” Your voice cracks a little bit, feeling stupid for being so emotional over such a short lived relationship. “It kind of destroyed my confidence.”

He watches the way you refuse eye contact, which is something that stabs him directly in the stomach. He can feel it drop to the floor, adrenaline making its way into that empty space you’re creating for him.

“Before we break up, I just want to know why it took this for you to act like you genuinely might have feelings for me.”

He stumbles over his thoughts the same way he stumbles over his feet trying to approach you.

By now, he doesn’t think he can ever feel more embarrassed than he does at this moment. He crouches down in front of you, sad that you didn’t laugh at the way he nearly knocked himself out on your living room floor. Then he looks at you, chasing your line of sight as if to reassure you through nothing but the air in the room.

“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.” He starts, and after seeing that your expression doesn’t change even a little bit, he continues. “You seemed so into me that I–” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be as honest as he can be. “I just didn’t know how to act.”

You look at him with irritation at those words.

“Of course I was fucking into you. Why else would I have agreed to be your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back into the couch cushions and away from his crouched body. “Think about how I feel. The fact that you just watch me throw myself at you time and time again? The fact that you rejected me every single time? How is that not giving you the answers you need as to why I’m breaking up with you?”

He takes note of that heightened voice of yours, defensive and likely more hurt than you’re letting on.

“Listen–” He breathes in, trying to internally hype himself up to bite the bullet.

You were listening, but he’s keeping whatever it is he’s thinking about in his head for just a second too long.

“No, I think we’re done h-”

“I’m a virgin.” He interrupts you, lowering his gaze to the floor and refusing eye contact with you.

Your eyes shoot to him though. The last thing you would have expected was for him to be a–

“You’re–” You try to repeat his words for confirmation, but he interrupts you again.

“I can promise you it’s not because I don’t want to do these things with you.” He says, still staring at the floor. “It’s because I was afraid that you’d lose interest over it.”

Your mouth falls open as you look at him, every feeling of frustration in your body disappearing almost immediately.

“It’s because I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to, like, be any good at it.” He continues to admit. “I was trying to work up the courage to tell you, or to just like, do it.” He rambles, now scooting back and standing up to his feet. “And if you still want to break up, I understand. I just thought I at least owed you an explanation.”

You watch as he nods to himself in an unsure way, turns on his heel, and heads back to the door to slip his shoes back on.

You sit in stunned silence as your brain erases every single insecurity you gained over this month and a half relationship before jumping to your feet. If anyone could have been more insecure about this than you were, it was him. And now that you can see that, the guilt hits you twice as hard as the presumed break up would have.

“You’re a virgin?” You ask, though that wasn’t at all the words you intended to say. “I mean, you kept pushing me away because you didn’t want to disappoint me?”

He nods timidly, halting his body and still refusing to look at you.

He has one shoe on, and his other foot half in the other when you make your way over to him, closing the distance quickly and confidently.

“Don’t leave.” You say first, before physically moving his body for him to remove that foot from his half-on shoe. “Chan, I’m your girlfriend. We can wait for as long as you need, I just...”

You pause, now feeling annoyed with yourself for making it about you. Then again, it’s not like you could read his mind. Though, thinking back to all of those instances where he pulled away from you before, perhaps you could have read context clues a little better.

“I didn’t know–” You trail off, now determined to save the relationship that both of you accidentally started to sink. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

He feels…relieved by your words. Saying you could wait, asking what it is that made him so afraid to admit it.

Finally, he presses one foot against his other, pulling his foot out of his shoe and stepping back, looking at you with eyes fonder than you’ve ever seen them.

“It’s not that I felt I couldn’t tell you. I was just embarrassed.”

You very nearly coo out at him, but you keep your distance with both your words and your body now.

“It’s not that I’m not ready to lose it. Especially with you.” He admits, glancing at you for a reaction before sighing. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, again, I was just embarrassed and also knew that I should probably tell you at some point…”

“You want to give your virginity to me?”

You watch as he blows his hair up through puckered lips, rolling his eyes before smiling at you.

“It’s not that I view virginity as sacred or anything either. There’s just a lot of weight that people tend to put on it, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He tries to explain as his body relaxes by the minute. “I wanted you to be my first time, yeah. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I knew I wanted you to be the one to show me what all the hype is about.”

You’d laugh if it weren’t for the fact that this is still kind of a touchy subject. You’re not entirely sure how you feel about being someone’s first time, but you know you have feelings for him and to deny him of sex after you blatantly wanted it so bad from him…Okay, maybe you’re just in your head. Of course you’d be happy to be his first time.

Ecstatic even.

“So….” You sway on your feet, looking up at the ceiling before landing your eyes on him playfully. “It’s not because you think I’m disgusting or like, not living up to the standards you want for a girlfriend?”

“Jesus, no.” He says.

You watch him scratch the back of his head, still probably embarrassed by how low this relationship had fallen due to the awful communication skills.

“And you’re also kind of admitting that you have thought about it?” You continue, prying out the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly since you met him.

He pulls back only a little bit, his cheeks warming at the words and the way his brain automatically thrusts him into the thoughts of all of those nights where he absolutely fucking thought about it.

“Y-yeah. Yes. I have thought about it.” He nods in a self-reassuring way as his eyes land on everything in the room but you.

You’re quick to give him your own reassurance though, trying to learn his boundary now that the secret is out and the relationship appears to have a second chance at succeeding.

He can feel you close in on him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face against his neck. There, he holds you back, breathing in deep and feeling the scent of you wash through his body.

Quite literally actually. As he would normally avoid, his lower half reacts far too quickly to even the simplest of touches from you.

He pulls back on instinct, but you don’t release your grip this time.

“You seem as ready as ever, I’ll admit.” You laugh upon feeling him stiffen against you, but you really do try not to shame him for it. “Still, we can wait until you feel ready enough to give it a shot, okay?”

He nods, entirely reassured by the way you don’t press up against it or comment any further about the happenings in his pants right now. Then he sighs out.

“I can imagine I must look like an idiot right now, getting hard over a fucking hug.” He finally says as he pulls from the hug and makes his way back to your living room. “But we’re okay, right? You’re not breaking up with me?”

You follow after him, keeping your sexual distance, but absolutely indulging in the loving, sweet, and careful cuddling you’ve wanted to do with him for so long now.

He appears comfortable when you tuck yourself under his arm and rest your head on his chest before answering him.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” You say, feeling his chest heave with each breath and intentionally ignoring the blatant tent in his pants slowly fall back into its flaccid position as he calms down. “It’s kinda cute, you know? That you were so worried about it.”

His cheeks are still on fire, willing his body to calm itself through this sweet session of cuddling. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you, and still, it is embarrassing in the way he knows you’re ignoring it for his sake too.

But goddamn, how heavenly it would be for you to like, touch it right now…..or something.

“Never thought of it as cute, if I’m being honest.” He tries to joke. “If anything, maybe it's a little pathetic on my part.”

You shake your head against him, feeling more confident of your place in his life.

“Pathetic? Don’t be mean to yourself. Besides, it’s kind of hot knowing that you got so turned on over a simple hug.” You laugh, hoping you’re not crossing a boundary. “No wonder you ran so fast when I sat on your lap, I definitely would have felt that on me.”

“Alright, alright–” He tries to hush you of your playful remarks, but ultimately, if you really think it’s an attractive aspect of whatever sexual dynamic the two of you will come to have, he’s going to make damn sure you see just how fucking turned on you make him.

Things are good. Great even, now that you can pin point each moment your boyfriend gets a little too overwhelmed with you. He does still push you away, probably out of instinct but he doesn’t shy away nearly as much from intimate moments with you. Especially if the two of you are alone together.

You’re a bit more careful in public or with friends though, because the last thing you want to do is make him feel insecure about it. Still, there are playful moments where you indulge in the act of touching him or kissing him just to get him excited, just to watch him stutter his way through ordering something.

The point is, you almost ended a relationship with someone who, arguably, makes you feel more wanted than you ever knew you could. It’s nice, and it feels good.

Even now, this is only your second full on make-out session with him, you feel absolutely adored. It’s cute in the way he’s trying to train himself to not get hard at even the simplest of touches, it’s even cuter when his efforts fail miserably and he’s arching his body away from you as if he could even hide what he’s packing.

You don’t push for more, despite wanting it badly. He also doesn’t push…despite also wanting it just as much as you do, if not more. He still seems to need a push of confidence to actually go any further than a nice, non-body touching makeout session.

This is fine though, and you indulge far more than you ever knew you would when it comes to this kind of thing. As if simply licking into his mouth is foreplay enough to counter a fucking blowjob for him.

Never in your life did you think you’d be this into the fact that your boyfriend is a virgin. And it’s not even that he’s never had sex, it’s that he seems to want it so bad, and there’s just something about a man who is desperate that gets you going these days.

Still, kissing him is something that fulfills you, especially with the way he’s avoiding his lower half and keeping it away from you.

He kisses you back in a telling way though, more telling than that tent in his sweatpants that you can visualize even while your eyes are closed. He radiates the arousal through the way he moves his lips against yours, and the way he lets out little suffering sounds when you kiss him harder and harder.

His hands stay against your face, neck, and sometimes your waist, but god. His kissing is genuinely just so good with the way it tells on him every few seconds.

And when he pulls back, he’s out of breath, flushed, and looking as if he would want nothing more than for you to hint, to lay down some sort of implication that he can cling to for relief from the heaviness that’s been in his pants since the fucking relationship started.

You wonder if tonight is the night, because he doesn’t appear to want to stop making out like he did last time. If anything, as he looks at you with those heaving breaths, you can tell he’s thinking harder than he ever has about it.

“Chan,” You whisper out to him, just inches from his face. “Do you think of me?”

When he keeps his eyes on you, seemingly stunned by your question, you continue.

“Do you think of me after you leave? When you’re all by yourself in your room–” You turn your head so that your eyes can trail to the space he is attempting to keep from you. “When you’re touching yourself?”

He feels the words run straight through him, causing an utterly pathetic twitch in his pants. The way your voice comes out soft and sensual as you ask him, as you look at him. He doesn’t even remember words at this moment, not even a simple “yes”.

He tries to answer by losing a little bit of his self control, turning your head back to him with his palm just so he can chase against your lips out of the sheer arousal, but you pull away.

“Do you?” You continue, encouraging him to answer you.

“So much,” He wills himself to whisper confidently, ignoring the fact that his body just forced him to rut up and against nothing, all for you to see. “Every time I leave,” He puts emphasis on his words. “Sometimes I can’t even make it home first.”

You smile at the image of him rubbing against himself in his car, so desperate to relieve himself of what you do to him each time he comes to see you. Not even making it out of the seatbelt before releasing all over himself, all in his pants. Shaking, panting, all alone and without you.

“Cute,” You chuckle, finally turning your head slightly and landing a pop kiss on him. “I think of you when I do it too, every time you leave.”

He looks at you, willing his hips to stay put as he thinks about the image of you doing that in this very room, to images and thoughts of him.

“You do?” He asks for reassurance easily.

“Mhm,” You look away from him as you sit straight up and then scoot down the bed. There, you lay yourself down against your pillows and look at him. “Come here.”

He’s reluctant to take your hand. But even he can admit that this side by side makeout session is starting to hurt his neck, and you’re clearly asking him to get on top of you right now.

“You don’t have to but, Chan–” You say, looking down, “I don’t want you to leave this time.”

Well, shit, all you had to do was say that. Honestly, the way you look at him with pure acceptance is enough to push him past the wall in his head that keeps him from finally trying to take the next step. You accept him as he is now, surely you’d accept him if he…. doesn’t last, right? What about if he isn’t good at it?

Still, he finds himself planting one hand on the other side of your head to balance himself on top of you. Still just hovering, not yet wanting or willing to, you know, put it against you.

You smile.

“It’s okay, I can tell you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything else, I’m happy with just this.”

And then you both fall back into another, much more comfortable and natural feeling, makeout session.

As much as you’d love for him to try and take control, his reluctance allows you to contain yourself. It allows you to respect him and his decision of whether or not he wants to do anything more than this. Still, this satisfies you. And if he really does stay, maybe he wouldn’t be entirely against watching you take care of your own arousal for him. Maybe he’d feel better watching even, taking notes on what you like, learning where to touch you.

And you know, that really would have been okay but you can’t help but feel like he’s definitely wanting more. With the way his lips grow hungrier rather than more tired, with the way he’s starting to moan shamelessly into your mouth, with the way his hands are trying to travel to more intimate places on your body before stopping himself.

You might be pushing it with the assumption, but it doesn’t hurt to try and help him, right?

When you feel his hands moving to your waist, up, up, and up until they’re just barely brushing against the underside of your breast, he pulls back again and pulls your shirt down to cover the exposed skin, all while kissing you harder.

You place your hand over his, wasting not even a second as you guide him back under your shirt, right up to where you know he wants to touch.

And holy fuck does he. He doesn’t even pull back when you lay it against the warm and exposed flesh from under your shirt. His hand immediately starts groping. His lips immediately stutter against you in a relieved sigh from him, and all you can do is kiss him now with the same energy he seems to have in that one single hand.

“You’re allowed to touch me, but if you need help doing it, just tell me–” You pull back to whisper, trying to take it another step further in the act of kissing against his jaw and down his neck. “I want to touch you too, but I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you tell me otherwise.”

It’s like he really forgets how to talk or give proper consent when his entire body is acting like a fucking greenlight for you right now. He feels so pathetic, on the verge of orgasm with nothing more than the soft fabric of his sweatpants to relieve him, and yet your breast in his hand, nipple hardening under his palm before he musters the courage to put it between his fingers, it’s a lot to take in, okay?

Still, he tries to say something, and he’s even more embarrassed by the way his voice sounds like it isn’t even his own. He sounds broken when the sound reaches his ears.

“Don’t–” He starts, cutting himself off at the feeling of your lips kissing against the pulse point of his neck.

“Hm?” You ask, pulling back and away, hoping you didn’t press too much.

“Don’t stop.” He mutters out again, a little less embarrassed now that he feels you sigh against that same pulse point with the way his fingers fondle your nipple mindlessly. “Don’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Your brain falls into a stunned silence at his words, bringing a type of nervousness to bubble up in your own body. Is this really it? Is this when it’s going to happen? On a saturday night, against your pillows, muffled cartoons playing in the background…..past ten in the evening?

You can’t help it as you kiss against his neck. You really can’t, with the way he opens himself up to be vulnerable with you while actively being on top of you, while playing with your breasts, while containing himself.

He seems to need you to do the pushing, but you really cannot shake the nervousness of being his first. You’re almost certain he is nervous about so many things, but still he appears to be eager to try. He’s eager to be with you, and, ultimately, to know what it feels like to be with another person that matters to him in that way.

“Is there–” You stop, breath caught in your throat, only to fall out against his throat when he finally seems to have the confidence to make his first move. One that would seem so small to anyone else, but he– he raises a hand and holds the back of your neck, trying to press your lips and guide them to the area of his neck that he wants you to kiss.

And you do, with blatant encouragement to him for doing that, all while trying to finish your previous thought.

“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” You ask, kissing and now, licking against the spot on his neck that makes him shiver.

He sighs in a shudder, craning his neck to expose more skin for you before his hand stills against your nipple and he pulls his hand from your shirt.

“All of it?” He starts, a bit unsure of himself. “Everything?” He adds, pulling himself back from your lips and watching you fall back to your pillows. He leans his body up, relieving his legs from his weight and sitting on his heels in front of you, only slightly between your legs now.

You can see that he has a bit more confidence with the way he’s looking at you.

“I want to try all of it.” He continues, placing two hands on your knees, pushing your legs together and using his palms to make them sway left and right. It’s as if he’s thinking hard. “I mean, if you want to.”

You smile.

You want nothing more than to do this with him, for him, and for yourself.

“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation, now lifting yourself and re-positioning yourself onto your knees to mimic his own stance.

He nods in a blatant and shy way, knowing that you can physically see how badly he wants this, and how badly he wants you to be the one to do this with him. He’s achingly hard, and he isn’t sure if he’s ever managed to get this fucking hard in his entire life.

It really is painfully arousing, with the way his pants stretch against the head when he’s sitting like this. The way the fabric offers little to no sensation but while looking at you, he feels all fucked up and warm. He tries to forget that there’s precum all over him, seeping through the pants that are presented before you, and god, the way you look right at it.

He doesn’t shy away despite being as shy as he could possibly be right now. In fact, when your eyes trail back up to him, licking your lips before smiling, he a fucking goner. He knew he wanted you bad, but never did he know he needed you this badly.

He’s so fucking lucky.

“It looks… big.” You comment, leaning forward only slightly and sizing your boyfriend up. “But for your sake, I’ll try to control myself from moving too fast. I’ll go slow, okay?”

He doesn’t even nod, he’s too entranced with you in front of him, fully clothed, lifting his own shirt off of him as if he is incapable of doing it himself. Then again, he kind of is incapable at this moment. He swears his IQ must’ve dropped to a single digit by this point.

And when that shirt comes up and over his head, you note that he doesn’t even blink. That small moment where his face was obscured as you pulled it off of him? His eyes stayed on you both before and after, only now– his hair is a total fucking mess and all you can do is feel endeared by it.

“God, you’re so fucking attractive,” You groan in sexual frustration with an eyeroll. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”

Now he breaks eye contact at the praise, glancing away from you and trying his hardest not to smile like an idiot at those words.

“To be fair, I’ve fucked up my fair share of relationships being embarrassed.” He laughs. “Kinda glad I did though.”

You land your eyes back on him, staring blankly at his naked chest and trying your damnedest not to look at him like he’s some piece of meat. But goddamn, the body of this man.

“Come here, switch places with me.” You smile, reaching forward and trying not to think too hard about the way his arms flex when you grip them to move him. “Here, lay back.”

And within seconds, you’re between his legs and looking down at his half-lidded, arousal driven eyes.

“Fuck, really?” You groan again, glancing away. “It’s really taking everything in me, Chan, it really is.”

His heart is doing flips as he stares up at you. He feels doted on, adored, attractive. So he encourages more of those annoyed praises from you.

“Taking everything in you to…?”

You chuckle, because the audacity of this drunk and in love fool.

“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to be in this exact position?” You smile, reaching down to run your fingers down his chest and straight to that happy trail that he so readily hid from you. “It’s taking everything in me to slow down–”

“Then don’t.” He says proudly, albeit still a bit shy at your words.

You can see how red his ears are, only partially hidden by that head of messy ass hair. His stupid pretty eyes and gentle smile are directed straight at you without any type of reluctance.

“There’s my confident boyfriend.” You chuckle, toying with the hair beneath his belly button and trying to not comment on the way his body jumps a bit at the feeling. “Was wondering where he went after he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

And he remains silent after that, watching the way you take the reins and lean down to kiss against that same spot of his neck. Warm breath fanning over the skin before attaching yourself there.

Surely you can feel the way his hips react, humping up at each flutter of your lips. If you couldn’t, he knows for a fact that you’ll be able to now. With the way you trail down, across his own sensitive nipples, and then down, down, down.

He glances down at you at the same time when you glance up at him and right then and there he thinks he melts. He’s never seen a woman look at him from this angle, and it’s only a little bit detrimental to his heavy and pathetic cock. The twitching never stops, he feels so fucking sticky in his pants and it really just doesn’t stop. Continuous leaking, and he really had no idea that there could even be this much pre-cum.

Then, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with….a tickle?

“Oh?” You smile, leaning down to repeat that lick up his happy trail before landing a kiss straight on his belly button.

His body jumps again, and he lets out a moaned chucked unintentionally.

“Oh.” You smile wider, gripping both of his hips with your hands and holding him down in a playful way. Repeating the act once again.

Your suspicions are confirmed with a third jump of his body, and another chuckled, frustrated moan.

“So, he’s ticklish too?” You say with another kiss against his belly button before fluttering your fingers at the side of his hips.

His entire body goes rigid before melting against the bed in an attempt to not react to the way you take advantage of a hidden weakness he had. God, he should have known that…like, sex stuff could be ticklish.

“No– I’m not.” He lies, jolting again when you continue to test the resilience he thinks he has against your lips and fingers. “Hey–!”

And, well, you would’ve stopped if it weren’t for the fact that his hips raise with each tickled sensation, and you can genuinely feel how damp and heavy he is in his pants. It’s entirely arousing in the way its weight is obvious through his attempts to wiggle from your ticklish touches.

“Alright,” You finally relent, landing one final kiss to his belly before licking down that same line of hair he offers his body. “Chan, I want to–”

His hips immediately raise to your words, the wetness from your tongue feels like ice against his skin when the air hits it and at this point, he thinks he knows what you’re suggesting.

“Please–” He nearly cries out in a stutter. “Touch it.”

You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his abdomen before giving him a short nod that you know he doesn’t see. Considering, well, he just threw his arm over his face and keeps his hips tensed, and his ass only slightly lifted off of the bed.

Desperate. Willing.

You prepare yourself for seeing it for the first time by not seeing it at all just yet. Instead, you kiss down until your lips are met with warm, damp fabric. Immediately you can feel his length twitch under your lips when you reach it, and all you can manage to do is flatten your tongue out and against it to feel it pulse again.

And again, until that same arm thrown over his face reaches down in a desperate attempt to take the pants off for you. He’s the one losing his self control now, no embarrassment or nervousness in sight from him, and it’s so fucking attractive to see him do it.

His shaking fingers fumbling with the waistband, shoving the pants down just an inch or so more to reveal more of that trimmed hair.

You don’t comment on the way he’s acting out of fear that it’ll make him feel shamed or even mocked, despite you truly believing it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do in front of you.

Instead, you help him. Sinking your own fingers beneath his pants and tugging them down all in one go before allowing your eyes to land on it.

“Jesus fucking christ.” He moans out, the air alone offering an overwhelming amount of sensation due to the temperature change he now feels between his legs.

You finally look at it, so dark in color. As if all of the blood in his body resides only here. You gently move your hand just over it, feeling the heat radiate from him, seeing the precum continuously dribble from the head, and then, finally–

“You’re so….” You trail off, in awe of the way his body just….keeps reacting. So much pre-cum. “Hard.”

He releases a broken little sound at the feeling of your fingers finally touch him, and it feels insanely different from when he touches it himself. As if he’s not in control of his pleasure, and it’s all just you. You are the one who feels good against him.

You’re shocked briefly when his hand makes it’s way back down to yours, grabbing it and essentially trying to get you to stimulate him more. He puts so much pressure against your hand, sandwiching it between his own palm and stiffened cock.

You’re tuly in awe. This man has essentially edged himself to a world record, surely.

“Slow down,” You try to soothe him, moving your hand against him and watching him retract his hand. “Relax, It must feel good, right?”

That little sob he lets out shows you his frustration. So needy, so ready. And even with you moving your fingers to circle his pulsing length, his hips continuously fuck up, not allowing him to have even a moment without a forceful amount of stimulation.

“So good,” He moans, entire brain focused on what your hand is doing and unable to open his eyes. “I want it so bad.”

You don’t think he hears you chuckle and you’re thankful he doesn’t. You can imagine he would genuinely be embarrassed to know you’re witnessing his pure blissed-out and aroused-state of mind right now.

And it’s not shocking that he’s entirely focused on himself at this moment, because he’s the one experiencing this for the first time. Even if you find it hard to believe that another woman has never touched his dick, you’re entirely flattered that it very well may be the case and that he wanted you to be the one to make him feel this good.

“I’ll give it to you, just relax. I’m not going to stop.” You reassure his needy movements, and the way his body squirms at the slightest of touches. “What feels good?”

God, he’s so frustrated.

“All of it.” He groans shortly, trying to take in a deep breath and just relax like you asked him too.

You nod to his closed eyes and slacked mouth, fighting against his hips to be the one to pleasure him rather than himself and only when you blow a gentle breath against the head of his cock do his hips still and he shoots his hands up to your pillows, gripping them as if he’s preparing for something.

You watch intently at the way he’s actively fighting to move now, waiting impatiently for you to do something now. Licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip– god, he’s so pretty up there.

Then, you grant him a new sensation. Only because by this point you’re the one who is about to lose control.

You stick out your tongue and lick all the way from his balls to the head of his cock, making sure to keep pressure against it so that you can taste all of the arousal he’s spilled up until now. And while you were going to pull back to examine his reaction, this is the part where you release your self control.

The taste alone was enough to have you moaning, vibrating your voice against the vein of his length and then circling your lips around the head.

Instantly, you suck at the feeling of pre-cum still pouring out of him. This time, there seems to be more. Coating your tongue with an almost sweetened salty taste.

You feel briefly the way his hips chase the new warmth, clearly wanting to tuck itself into your mouth and quite possibly, down your throat, but you pull back and blow once again against the head.

His entire body shivers as you glance up at him.

You can barely comprehend just how into you he looks right now before rolling your own eyes in arousal at the image before immediately giving him everything your mouth has to offer.

Who cares if he comes too fast? Fucking look at him. You’d be stupid not to suck the absolute life out of him! That’s your boyfriend up there, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes sparkling through hooded lids, chest heaving–

And god, you almost wish he wasn’t as big as he is because it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you take it in. You have to focus on sliding it through your lips, against your tongue, and right up to the back of your throat where the head of his cock bumps.

He can feel the way your fingers grip his legs through it, and by this point he has gone entirely non-verbal at the feeling.

The only sound he can make comes from deep within his chest, and he can only release those sounds with heaved out and rigid breaths. His heart is pumping faster and faster the deeper you managed to take him, and–

“Ah! W-wait!” He panics, sitting straight up and becoming fucking floored at the way you stay on him. Moving your hands to his stomach and trying to shove him back. “Fuck,” He seethes as he takes in a sharp inhale, legs shaking as he flops back against the pillows. “Fuck, i’m sorry.” He continues to murmur, feeling himself hit the wall of orgasm and practically pulverize it.

And you, oh, you. You taste it. You feel the twitching and the way his muscles stiffen under your fingers. You can hear him muttering apologies as it spills into your mouth, down your throat, and even out of the corners of your lips.

You try to take all of it, up until you can’t fucking breathe, and only then do you pull up and replace your mouth with your hand, watching in awe at the way he just……

It doesn’t fucking stop.

He went from rigid to stammering his words, to now blatantly and full-on moaning through both the pleasure and frustration of losing the warmth of your mouth.

“God, Chan….” You whisper in a raspy voice, slowing your hands and intentionally pumping it out of him by now.

“I’m sorry–” He stammers, body still shaking as you pull the rest of it out of him. “I tried to,” He winces with another unintentional moan. “I didn’t think it would feel that good.”

You smile both proudly and fondly, watching him stumble through his words and whatever excuse he tries to come up with.

“I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” You finally say, in a more stern voice. “You couldn’t have stopped me if you wanted to.”

Only now, when he’s absolutely drenched himself in his release does he open his eyes in a drowsy way. He looks at you and that little smile on your lips and decides that, yeah, he can believe you. He trusts you, and he’s entirely obsessed with you.

“But we still haven’t–”

You cut him off quickly.

“We have all night. All day tomorrow. All week, month, year. I don’t care.” You dead-pan, reaching for his, somehow, still hard length. “Chan.” You add, gripping it and testing the actual hardness of it. “You’re still hard, which is fucking amazing by the way, and you have no idea how wet I am right now.”

Oh, my god. He forgot.

“You– you’re turned on?” He asks, looking away from you.

“So fucking turned on.” You confirm for him, now releasing his length to give him a bit of a rest, considering he must not realize he’s still shaking. “Look, feel.”

You say it as you crawl up and on top of him, seating yourself right up against his abdomen and grabbing his hand.

He just stares, watching you guide his hand straight to the seat of your shorts.

“Oh.” He sighs out.

“Even through my shorts. See? Feel it.” You continue to move his hand against you, trying not to rut your own hips up much like he was doing before.

Brain malfunction. He doesn’t even have a fucking IQ at this point as his cock immediately reacts in all of it’s sensitive, pathetic glory.

“Do you want me to, um,” He swallows around a breath he didn’t know he needed. “touch you? Can I try?”

You sigh, relieved that he’s willing and immediately push yourself off of him and take care of all of the busy-work as quickly as possible. ie: taking off your clothes.

Unfortunately, you somehow briefly forgot that the man is still a fucking virgin. You can very nearly see his mouth fall open at your nude body being revealed to him. Even more so, you can see the dribble of saliva that he doesn’t quite catch fast enough, and his cock reacts.

“You’re so cute, god.” You praise with the same compliment you’ve been giving him all night.

And when you seat yourself next to him, hugging one of his arms and tucking it between your legs before closing your thighs around it, you smile at him and the way he literally cannot stop staring with his mouth agape.

“Babe, you’re drooling.” You chuckle, shifting your hips a bit to rub yourself against his knuckles, where you’re still hugging his arm.

Only then does he slurp up his embarrassment and try to remain calm. His fogged brain comes back to him quickly upon your comments as he wills himself to sit up beside you.

He gets to….touch you.

And boy does he.

Eagerly, messily, and quite frankly, kind of embarrassingly.

You make it easier for him though, laughing as you flop back and spread your legs for him. He’s quick to simply…explore. He’s not aiming for any singular area of your pussy because to be quite honest, he’s still struggling to stop staring at the entirety of you.

You watch his eyes, the way they stare at your tits, then your thighs, your pussy being petted by his fingertips, and then– eye contact.

He seems so sure of himself despite still managing to barely touch the clit. It doesn’t bother you one bit, because his eager fingers still find ways to touch you beautifully. There’s so much intent behind the messy movements.

Slipping and sliding two fingers between your lips, up your folds, and then stopping just short of your clit before sliding back down and feeling where his cock would go if he manages to make it this far.

I mean, surely he will, right? He’s losing his virginity as he does this right now, even. Foreplay still counts, right?

And then, after several minutes of him exploring, learning, and practically teasing you half to death, you reach down to guide him.

“Right here,” You soothe out in a soft voice, pressing his fingers against your clit and seeing him take note of it. “And here.” You trail his fingers down until they reach your clenched hole, and you very slightly press against his fingers so that the tips just barely enter you.

He tilts his head at you, concentrating on where you lead him before releasing his hand and essentially leaving him to his own devices now.

And you know, he did tell you he was a quick learner, because almost immediately he’s experimenting with putting a finger into you, and using his other hand to find a rhythm to rub against your clit.

The whole time, he checks for your reaction, noting when your breathing hitches and when your body tenses. He continues, trying to only do things that make your body react and soon, you’re already turning to mush beneath him.

His fingers circle and tap your clit at a quick pace, with the other twisted inside of you. When he slides his finger out, and then back in, he rubs your clit harder, and god, yeah. Okay. You see his effort, and it’s such a good fucking effort too.

“Feels good,” You finally moan out for him, allowing yourself to give in to the pure arousal of the entire situation taking place. Thinking hard about what it would feel like to have such a desperate cock inside of you. “Use two fingers?”

He listens instantly, moaning along with you when he slides the other in with the next thrust. His fingers against your clit trail down shortly after, curiosity getting the best of him when he spreads your lips open to see you stretch around his fingers.

“It’s so warm–” He comments more to himself than to you, watching the way you pulse around him, watching the way your slick seeps out of you. It’s so hot for him to see it up close like this, and his pace slows at the image before him. “Can you take more than two?”

You lift your head in amazement at how he could ask such a thing.

“Chan.” You smile at the way he jumps in surprise at your sudden, louder voice. Fingers nearly slipping out of you. “I can take way more than just two fingers.” You glance down between his legs. “Way, way more.”

He glances down to what you’re looking at before letting out an embarrassed sob.

“You’re really going to let me?” He nearly whines in excitement.

You nod, reaching for him and pulling him to you by his shoulders. You land a kiss against his lips, trying not to shake at the way his fingers angle different inside of you as he moves to chase your lips.

“Mhm,” You soothe against his lips, intentionally scooting your hips down to your best ability to sink his fingers into you more. “Move your fingers– it feels good like this.”

He listens, feeling you throw your arms around his neck and cling to him through it, all while moaning and groaning right up against his lips. You’re not even kissing him, you’re just….acting like this and it’s fucking great.

He thought he would be the only one to be desperate in this situation, yet here you are, clinging to him as he works his fingers in you.

“When?” He finally asks upon noting the way you start to move your hips against his fingers.

You peek your eyes open and pull back to look at him.

“Now? Do you want to do it now?”

He nods, slipping his fingers out of you and inspecting how wet they’ve become.

“Can I?”

You finally fall back, leaning against your elbows and spreading your legs wide in front of him. Lending him a nod, you watch the way he just freezes after the fact.

All you can do is laugh at this moment with the way he loses any ability to remember how sex works.

Then again, you wonder if he ever even watched porn, considering how he’s acting and couldn’t manage to find the clit.

“Do you want me to be on top?” You question, blinking up at him and his blank expression.

He shakes his head at you, still frozen in his spot before his eyes slowly make their way down to the glistening sheen against your pussy.

“Don’t we like, need a condom or something? I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull out.” He asks, finally glancing away. “I don’t know if I can last as long as you want me to….”

And with that, all you do is lunge forward, grab your boyfriend by the cock, and pull him to you.

He laughs, you laugh, and then it’s silent when he leans over you, feeling his length lay against your core, already feeling spent but so, so ready to give himself to you.

“I’m on birth control. You don’t need to pull out.” You smile evilly, wiggling your hips and watching the way he closes his eyes tightly as if to regain his composure of those words.

“I’m seriously in love with you.” He mutters, pushing his hips forward and letting his length slide through the mess he made of you.

You smile, feeling that by this point, your face may actually be stuck like this permanently, and lift your head to kiss against his lips once more.

“You’re ready?” You ask quietly, against his lips. “I can help you adjust to where it needs to be. After that, I want you to do what feels best for you, okay?”

He nods timidly, taking in a deep and nervous breath before feeling your hand guide his length to the opening.

“Go on, slide in it.” You encourage him.

And he does.

Slowly at first, gently, until he feels your wet hot walls envelop the head of his cock in full, clenching, pulling him in.

His arms shake from either side of your head as he balances himself there, and it doesn’t take long for him to drop his head against your shoulder in deeper breaths than he was taking before.

The sensation is so much, it’s no wonder people like to have sex. It’s so good, you feel so, so good around him. He can’t help it when he slides in deeper, not stopping until he’s releasing a wet moan against your shoulder and holding onto you as if his life depends on it.

He thought that once he got it all the way in, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. Even as the two of you are unmoving, with your hands in his hair and soothing him through it, you still clench him. Your pussy still stimulates it without either of you doing a damn thing.

You on the other hand, won’t admit to struggling through that one, long and languid thrust inside of you. It felt as if he was splitting you open despite how wet you already were, and still are. The heaviness, the consistent twitching, all of it stretches you out more than you even knew you’d need and god, it feels so good to have him just hold onto you like, to have him adjust to the feeling.

He’s no longer a virgin, and that’s not even what matters right now.

What matters is the way he continuously nuzzles his nose against you, snaking his head to your neck and moaning consistently against your ear when he manages to finally move.

He pulls out only a little bit before his hips stutter at the sensitivity, then he pushes back in.

In and out, in and out, until–

“Fuck.” He moans, lifting suddenly from your neck, sitting up, staring directly at where his cock sits inside of you, and he just… lets go.

Knuckles white against the grip of your waist, he powers through the sensitivity, he fucks through it. Fast, with no real rhythm or ability to realize just how deep he’s pushing himself into you, and then….

He’s done for.

“That’s it,” You encourage him through half moans at the feeling, your swollen clit begging for a little bit of attention too. “Shit, Chan, that’s it.” You continue, losing yourself in his reaction to you.

He only moves faster, his hips only stutter more, and thank fuck he already came once because he wouldn’t have made it a solid inch into you before coming undone if he hadn’t. Now though? He’s pleasantly surprised to be lasting even this long.

Until he’s not, of course.

And there, between your legs, he presses in as far as he can reach and loses his breath.

Eyes rolling back, eyebrows furrowing, mouth agape, a deep moan rumbles from his chest as his shiver flows through his body at the first release inside of you.

You immediately shoot your hands to your clit, feeling it pump inside of you much like it did in your mouth. Already so much, you feel entirely full, and entirely ready if he can manage to keep coming for as long as he did before.

You fingers assault the swollen nub so fast, working yourself up much like you would during a quick session of masturbation, not wanting him to miss out on what it feels like to have a girl come on him–

It hits you faster than you can realize.

Even when he buckles and falls back to your chest out of breath, you can’t even tell him that it’s happening.

Thankfully, he doesn’t move just yet. Well, until he feels your pussy clench him tigher than before. In a rhythmic way, almost.

Only barely can he lift his head to watch you, and that’s when he notes that you’re holding your breath.

You pussy is pulsing, and then–

“Are you?” He questions, experimenting with the idea of trying to thrust into you as he asks.

There’s the breath you’d been holding.

“Yes!” You call out, both to answer his question and to appreciate that little thrust he gave you.

Even if his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, you’re still full, and he can still feel the orgasm wash over you.

He’s silent through it, wincing at his hyper-sensitive cock and very nearly cursing it out for not having waited just a minute longer to release– then, you’re hugging him.

Tightly. So tightly, you’re holding onto him and breathing into his hair. He can barely breathe himself with this hold you have on him. Still, he doesn’t fight it, he simply lets you.

Letting you cling, letting the last jolting pulses of your core push the rest of him out of you. There, he manages to lift from your weakening grasp and throw himself beside you.

Out of breath, sweating, a total mess, he looks at you like he truly will never be able to love another person the way he does right now.

And it falls silent for a long while before you roll over, throwing both an arm and leg over him.

“Man,” You sigh out. “How does it feel?” You ask this time, opening your eyes to playfully look at him.

“Huh? What?” He asks, quirking a brow.

“You know, now that you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?”

He thinks hard for like two seconds before taking in a deep breath and smothering himself against the top of your head.

“Like I’m in love with you, maybe.”

And you know, given that this relationship is barely even considered one in the eyes of most people. You don’t think you care.

“Because I made you feel good, or because you want to let me make you feel good for like…” You pause, lifting your head to look him in the eye. “the rest of your life?”

He doesn’t even have to think twice.

“The second reason.”

“You’re such a simp, Chan, really.” You joke, skewing your head fondly to look at him. “But I think it’s worth a shot.”

#seventeen smut #lee chan smut #dino smut #svt smut

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celtic-crossbow · 1 month

Text

Those Summer Nights, When I Look in Your Eyes

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France) Warnings: Sexual Situations; Vague Smut

Summary: Daryl's childhood had lacked so much and at the beginning of the turn, he had never known love beyond Merle's version of it. Now, he had it all and he would never let them wonder how much he cherished them.

A/N: For @louifaith, I hope this is close to what you imagined for our archer. 🩵 - Also, I have Daryl calling reader "pip" because someone suggested him nicknaming her "pipsqueak" in another story and it has just stuck with me. I was as vague as possible about reader’s age but let me be clear - she is above 18. I don’t write for huge age gaps. I don’t judge those that do and I do read them. I just do not write them but I have no control over where your mind takes you. Anyway, the song he hums is attached. ;)

Life was good.

For thirteen years, there had never been a point in time where Daryl had felt like he could say that and genuinely believe it. For an entire year, the Commonwealth had thrived. Not a single threat. The walls held. The governing unit was fair and compassionate. It really was like the old world.

But not for Daryl.

In the old world, he had been a drifter. A useless drifter walking in the shadow of his brother. No job, no friends, no purpose. And he had, at that time, liked it that way.

Not anymore.

Because now he had a job. He had friends. He had a family. He had a purpose. And he had everything he had lacked growing up. He had love, and not just Merle’s variation of it.

Carol had taken over Lance’s position when Ezekiel and Mercer had stepped up to govern. She had pulled Daryl aside and asked him if he wanted to stay in their reformed force, giving him the choice. His decision was to promptly decline. So they put their heads together to come up with something.

Daryl possessed many skills, most of them learned by doing throughout the years. He had one condition that he would not negotiate on, however.

Daryl’s time outside the walls was over.

He agreed to train hunters to take his place and conceded to three weeks on the road with volunteers that he left up to Carol’s choosing. There was more than enough trust between them for him to be comfortable with who she would deem worthy to provide for the community.

Then he was given the job of overseeing construction and structural upkeep, equipment maintenance, and of course, a seat in the governmental advisory council. He was nothing if not adaptable and took to his position quickly, finding that he liked it. He was respected and his suggestions for the good of the community were heard and considered.

If he chose to hunt or ride, it would be for leisure but he’d hardly needed it in the past year. Domestic life had tamed the inner need to hide or escape that had been ingrained throughout the years even before the turn.

Years ago, you had tumbled into his life. A hot mess that he had spent many a day battling the urge to absolutely throttle. You had a stubborn streak a mile wide that made his own nothing more than a small trail. He absolutely couldn’t stand you.

Funny thing, time.

Now you wore his ring and proudly carried his last name. You had wanted the ceremony, even if his proposal was lackluster. He had been seeking you out after the end of the Whisperers.

“Where’s Y/N?” At first no one answered. He barely parted his lips, intent on asking again with a little more well placed ardor when a woman he recognized as a former Hilltop resident spoke up. “I saw your wife! She’s over with the children!” He muttered his thanks and took a single step before you were finding him. “Daryl!” Your body collided with his, knocking the air from his lungs. His heartbeat lowered regardless, feeling you there in his arms, alive and breathing and whole. “I couldn’t see you in the herd. I was about to come find you but Jude, she made me promise to stay.” “M’here. An’ they’re gone” He tightened his arms around you and rested his cheek on the crown of your head. “So I’m your wife now, huh?” He felt the shift of your facial muscles against his chest, knew you were smiling. “What of it?” He grunted. “Ya wanna be?” He felt his heart skip a few beats when you lifted your head to smile at him, beaming and beautiful. “Of course, I do. Might as well be at this point. We sound like an old married couple.” Daryl snorted and then shrugged. “Then I guess we are.” “That simple?” “That simple.” When you grinned, he knew you would never let it be that simple.

You got your wedding, simple and intimate, with only the few remaining people that were closest to the two of you. When Gabriel said the words, you got your ring, too. Oh, the hell and herds Daryl had gone through to get them. Matching bands, camelot black titanium. Crafted to withstand the way the world was.

He was twisting the ring round and round as he walked home, tired from a full day’s work and more than ready for the weekend with his family: you, Jude, RJ, and his little River. His boy was nearly two years old, the spitting image of Daryl with a heaping dose of your attitude.

You were younger than Daryl, still at an age where pregnancy and giving birth was not considered risky beyond the state the world was in and the lack of some resources. It was horrifying yet the best news he’d ever heard in his self-proclaimed useless life.

River Merle came along right in the midst of the unease in the Commonwealth. When they had taken you and River along with Jude and RJ, it had required all the power Carol possessed to stop Daryl from losing his goddamn mind. He was prepared to rip out entrails with his bare hands and use them to strangle each and every trooper that stood between him and his wife and kids. It was not a good time to support Pamela.

It all worked out in the end when, bruised but alive, the people took back the Commonwealth.

And now, here he was. A husband. A father. A boss. A survivor.

Life. Was. Good.

“Ya home, Pip?” The words habitually rolled off his tongue the moment he opened the door and stepped inside. Jude and RJ were watching a movie, the elder looking over with a hey, Uncle Daryl before turning right back to the television. It was the weekend. No reason to bug them about homework.

“Where else would we be?” You called from the kitchen. Daryl unlaced his boots, was in the middle of pulling off the second one when you came out with River on your hip. “Someone’s cranky today.”

“I ain’t cranky.”

“I’m not talking about you but assuming I was says a lot.” You smiled softly, passing off the baby while simultaneously stealing a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He nearly melted, probably would have if you weren’t situating a small human right against his chest.

“Get a room.” Judith was rolling her eyes when Daryl shot her a harmless look.

River’s little arms went straight around his father’s neck, his little hiccups and sniffles muffled against Dary’s shirt. “S’wrong, lil’ man. Mama houndin’ ya over veggies like she does me an’ RJ?” River pulled back, rubbing his left eye with a chubby fist, looking at Daryl with a scowl that he knew very well adorned his own face more often than not. Even being so content with his life, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of what you called his resting bitch face.

“Daddy.” Was all the boy said before burying his face back into Daryl’s shirt.

“He had a nap?” Daryl was jostling his son as little as possible while ridding himself of his precious vest, tossing it over the back of ‘his’ chair at the dining table. His large hand covered a wide expanse of the small boy’s back when he rubbed soothing little circles, following you into the kitchen. You shook your head and took the lid off the pot on the stove. The scent of meat and herbs wafted toward Daryl and his mouth watered, but first thing was first.

“He wouldn’t go down. I think it’s a daddy day.” You smiled at the sauce but it wasn’t meant for the pasta topping at all. Daddy days were Daryl’s favorite. River wanted absolutely no one but him. The baby would fuss during meals, refuse to nap, and absolutely forget about bath and bedtime unless Daryl was there.

“I got ‘im then. See if I can get ‘im down for a bit.” Daryl was ducking and angling his head to catch River’s attention, finally earning a shy smile when blue met blue and the archer scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue. Pressing a kiss into the mess of wavy hair, he noticed you standing with your back against the countertop, a certain type of smile on your face.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just sexy.”

“Pfft, stop.”

“We are so playing chess tonight.”

Daryl arched a brow. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your smile morphing into something else entirely; something sinful. “Oh, yeah.”

Dinner done, older kids in their rooms after teeth brushing and goodnight hugs, Daryl sat in the nursery with a sleepy River resting his head on his father’s shoulder while the chair gently rocked. The baby’s hair was only the least bit damp but he smelled of the lavender lotion that you always seemed to have near the changing table, instructing Daryl to use it after baths and before bed because it was calming.

Bathed and in a fresh diaper and pajamas, mini-Daryl was beginning to drift off while his father simply rubbed his back or kissed his cheek or even held a little hand just to count the fingers over and over. Soon enough there would be potty training and pre-school—Carol had said that was still a thing in the world now and yes, they had one in the Commonwealth—so for now, Daryl just wanted to soak it all up, take it all in.

River would likely be the only baby the two of you would have, so not a single second was being wasted or taken for granted. You kept a daily journal of simple things that some might find trivial but Daryl knew he’d be reading that journal often enough to wear the ink right off the pages. Sometimes, he missed things because of work, but in the end, that’s what happened when you were a parent, he supposed. His old man didn’t care about milestones or daddy days, and his mama wasn’t around for bath time or boo-boo kisses. River would have it all. And as long as they were his to care for, so would Judith and RJ. In fact, since the baby had Daryl, you were currently reading a story to Rick and Michonne’s son before bed.

Man, if Rick could see Daryl now. Would his brother even recognize him? God, would his brother even recognize him? He let his mind drift for a moment to Rick and Merle, just long enough to keep them close and then he was back to River, pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek.

You would always rock and sing to the little one but he didn’t need that from Daryl. There was just something about their bond that didn’t require words and hardly even movement. It had been that way since the moment you had pushed him into the world. He had cried, red-faced and angry and cold while Tomi leaned to put him onto your chest. You had your time with him, cuddling and nursing, his little sounds still expressing his discontentment with the change from your warm womb to a loud, bright world.

They had Daryl take off his shirt, which he didn’t understand until you explained better than any doctor or nurse could. The moment River was pressed against his skin, the connection was apparent to anyone who saw. The baby went silent, wide eyes mirroring the ones Daryl himself had. He had felt guilty for the longest time that River wanted you to feed him and then he wanted his daddy back immediately. He still had his mommy days and you said that was enough.

You were always supportive, never angry or jealous. You’d share the moments with him while he enjoyed them with you.

It was all what he’d never had, so he’d make sure River, Judith, and RJ never went without it.

His eyes were slow to open, squinting at the traitorous window that dared let the morning rays creep across the bed and to his pillow. It took a few sluggish blinks to remember what day it was and that he was free to go back to sleep until River required either you or him. With a deep breath, he stretched his arms above his head and looked at you, still wrapped around him with your head on his chest. Naked. Still so very, very naked.

He was barely in the bedroom door before you were pushing him against it, almost catching his fingers when he attempted to mute the sound of it closing at his back. You had his shirt unbuttoned and your mouth on his before he could even take a breath. “I told you,” you panted against his lips, “we’re playing chess tonight.” Daryl grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you easily, spinning you to press you against the door. “Goddamn right, we are.” The first round was a frenzied bout of moaning and skin slapping skin, hands covering mouths to keep the noise down. Your nails had left gouges on Daryl’s ass and back, clawing at him for more. You weren’t unscathed. A bruise was blooming on the curve of your right breast, a perfect black and purple bite he had inflicted at some point. It ended with you lying across Daryl’s torso while he was flat on his back with the pillow halfway over his face. Panting and sweating while the sheet covered neither of you where it mattered. Why it was anywhere near either of you was anyone’s guess. The second time was slower, every second savored. Your fingertips memorizing his face while his hips rolled into you, back arching to push himself deeper. His lips were on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks and mouth. His fingers danced down your ribcage and back up to your breasts, gentle caresses while he pressed his lips over the mark he’d left earlier. You didn’t have to try hard to roll him over. He went willingly, his hands going straight for your hips. You let your fingers roam his chest and stomach. His scars were yours to explore, he’d given that power over to you long ago. The marks no longer held him prisoner after you’d shown him how to be free. You were incredibly attracted to the way his body had softened with age and he worshiped each wrinkle and stretch mark that time and pregnancy had gifted you. You loved each other wholly, without condition.

And you laid where you had collapsed, goosebumps on your skin from the cool morning air. Daryl didn’t want to go back to sleep, so he laid there, watching you and just enjoying the silence with the knowledge that his family was safe. That you had survived together and built something so precious.

When River began to fuss, it was Daryl that slipped out of bed and left you to rest a bit longer. He had no qualms with being the one to get up earlier to take care of the baby.

The weekend went by fast, as it often did. Sunday night, he found himself sitting on the couch after the kids were all asleep. He had helped clean up after dinner and was contently watching you pick up toys and fold laundry. He didn’t step in to help because he had no intention of allowing you to continue for long.

“What?” You finally inquired, obviously catching him staring.

“Nothin’.” He smirked, huffing a laugh that came out as an exhale through his nose. You were still regarding him when he stood and beckoned you with a finger. “C’mere.” Your pretty eyes narrowed but you placed the unfolded towel on the top of the pile in the basket and stepped into his space. Daryl wasn’t romantic, truly believed he didn’t have it in him to be anything near it. Still, when he guided your arms to his shoulders and lowered his hands to your hips, he watched you melt.

“There’s no music, Daryl.”

“Don’t need it.” He shrugged, just swaying back and forth with you, pulling you closer until you rested your head against his chest.

“The formidable Daryl Dixon is dancing with me when there’s no music playing. This’ll make the papers. It’ll be the headline.”

“Stop.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. He was smiling when you sighed, somehow pressing yourself closer to him. You didn’t react at first when he started to hum, whether you were in shock or just relishing the moment. Maybe both. You let him continue.

It was an old tune, one from a favorite album released more than a decade before the first walker rose from the dead. The tune was slow and deep, his chest vibrating with every drone. Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, the corners of your mouth perked.

“What is that?”

“How dare ya! S’Ozzy, woman.” He feigned offense but was tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’ve never heard it.”

Daryl scowled playfully before scrunching his nose. “Remind me why I married ya?” You wrapped yourself around him and with the fondest smile he had ever let cross his face, he held you tighter.

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah, I do.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #dad!daryl #daryl fluff #domestic!daryl #Spotify

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unoislazy · 4 months

Text

More Mizu NSFW Headcanons

A/N: I wrote most of these while incredibly drunk last night and went back to fix them. They’re not SUPER feral but clearly someone’s getting more comfortable with the idea of writing out NSFW

Ray don’t judge me for these

|:T

HER HANDS

probably a bit tough because of all the constant training she does

Her fingers are very long and slender

The perfect length for reaching… hidden areas

Just because her hands are rough doesn’t mean she is

She has the capability of being extremely gentle if she wants to be

When holding you while cuddling, you’d feel like her hands are as soft as clouds

They’d probably be extremely cold all the time

Blatant NSFW

She’d definitely love restraining your hands with hers, especially if her hands are bigger than yours

She’d have you pinned to the ground

One of her hands holding both of yours above your head

Her knee pushing up between your legs ever so slightly

She’d be slightly moving it up and down, just enough for it to be noticeable

She doesn’t have much experience but she takes fake it till you make it to a whole new level

Feeling her other hand very gently drag down the sides of your body as she stares at you from above

Entirely focused on you

She’d make her way down, never breaking eye contact

Her hand following, not to far behind

As she moves down her other hands grip on your hands would loosen but she’d trust you’d know better than to move at this point

Her cold fingertips gently drag across your stomach and down, down, down, and then swiftly onto your thigh instead

She would tease the hell out of you with her touch

Like I mentioned in a different headcanon list she’d probably be very inclined on making you beg for more

Even if you did she’d still make you wait just a bit more, just to be annoying

Kinks and stuff

she’d be willing to experiment given her lack of experience

pleasure dom

She’d probably be into hair pulling

Whether she’s doing the pulling or getting her hair pulled idk I feel like she’d be into it

She’d also probably be an exhibisionist on the downlow

Like it’s not one of her main things but she won’t pass up an opportunity

She’s canonically very loud so why not make it a challenge to see if you both can keep quiet

She’s incredibly stubborn so you know she’s not losing

Given the fact that I’ve already established she’d be willing to tease you in any way possible

Edging.

She’d do it to you literally what more do you want me to say about that

She’d probably be pretty easy to rile up depending on how long you’ve been together

The longer you’ve been together the easier it would get

Especially if you would try and get her back for all the teasing she does to you

She’d probably have some knife related thing going on

She’d never hurt you nor would she even think to threaten you, it more just be the thrill of having a knife there

If Mizu wanted to kill you, she would’ve, so you knew you’d be safe regardless

But just to be on the safe side the blade is dull anyway

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cerise-on-top · 3 months

Note

hi! how would Valeria and Kate react if their wife’s got hurt because of their work, both of them working highly jobs and it ended up catching up to their s/o. hoe you are doing well and drink plenty of water! thank you!

-🍒

Hello! Both of them would be absolutely distraught, but would go about it in different ways!

Valeria’s and Laswell’s Wife Gets Hurt Because of their Job

Valeria: Whoever hurt you will wind up tortured and eventually, once she thinks they’ve had enough of their miserable life, will wind up dead. Naturally, the first thing she does is check up on you, see if you’re alright and well, that’s her priority. You’re the love of her life, there’s no one else in this world she wants to see do well. You’ll be admitted to the best hospital nearby and will only get the finest treatment. Once you’re stabilized, that’s when the hunt begins. Whoever hurt you won’t get too far since that bastard’s life will be on the line. Regardless of where they might be hiding, Valeria will find them and show them that death is actually a kind of mercy. She has pretty much everything at her disposal, everything money can buy, this sucker won’t know what hit them. If it’s revenge they want, then revenge they’ll get. Valeria promises you that their head will be on a silver plate. She’s not very good with words when it comes to comforting someone, but she will have that person killed in the most cruel ways she can imagine. In fact, she’ll take the pleasure of torturing them upon herself. Once she’s done, she’ll take some days off, which is surprising since she usually can’t afford that at all. You’ll be under her direct care for those days. Anything you want you’ll get. Afterwards there will be a slight shift in her demeanor, Valeria becomes more protective over you. Sometimes she might even assign some trusted people of hers to watch over you since she can’t afford something like that happening again. While she can’t always take some days off, she’ll try to be closer to you anyway. Always texting you, finding excuses to come home for a day maybe. She just really needs to make sure you’re okay, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you died.

Laswell: Laswell will try to be a bit more diplomatic about it at first, trying to coax whoever hurt you out of hiding. This person will be held accountable for their crimes against her world. Naturally, she rescues you first, gets you to the nearest hospital and won’t leave your side until you’re stable again. If it takes you a while to wake up again, she’ll leave to find the fucker and make sure they swim with the fishes. She has a pretty large, efficient network and will find out who it was fairly easily. Once she knows who they are, she won’t hesitate to find out all their past crimes as well, if they hurt you then they must have done some other awful things as well. Once that phase is over, she’ll go to their home herself and have them arrested, put in the worst prison imaginable where the inmates are treated especially badly. She won’t kill them, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they wind up dead anyway. Laswell usually isn’t an evil person, but she does hope that person dies during their time. Their sentence will be as long as possible so there’s no chance of them ever seeing the sunlight again either. Once all of this is over, she, too, would take some days off to spend with you. You’re a priority above all else, so Laswell will want to be there for you, no matter the cost. While she usually isn’t, depending on how severely you got hurt she might become a bit overbearing, a bit overprotective. That overprotectiveness will last for a few months, afterwards she’ll try to give you some space again. However, she’ll always be keeping a closer eye on you, always texting or calling you every once in a while to make sure you’re okay. If she needs to, she’ll put you under her protection officially, but the situation needs to be dire for that to happen. Either way, she’ll be keeping you safe.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #fem!reader #I hit over 100k words in my document last night which is so so much #I've written so much for Call of Duty in such a short time it's unbelievable. granted there's one fic I never posted but still #I don't intend to stop now either though it's fun. I'll probably be into cod for a while still anyway so there's that too #besides Valeria and Laswell have me in a chokehold. Farah does too I love them #every time someone requests them I'm very happy. I didn't expect the girls to be this popular though in all honesty #not complaining! it's nice to get to imagine kissing girls. it makes my gay little heart sing #I actually had some art of Valeria and an OC of mine commissioned not too long ago #every time I look at it I giggle and kick my legs a bit #I want her to fluster the everloving hell out of me until I can't speak anymore and am complete mush for her #I know I've mentioned it before but I love women who could absolutely just kill me. and who absolutely would do it as well #cod has some good women. made me realise that older women are also pretty epic #I think I'd melt into a puddle if Laswell ever called me her girl or her wife

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adventuringblind · 9 months

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request idea: fake dating troop for max v xreader, they can’t stand each other maybe she supports Ferrari or smt but secretly admires his talent but he doesn’t know and is kinda of and ass to her and a lot of drama for them to get together idk, maybe there was an wedding and max needed a partner — I’m sorry of this is a lot but I would absolutely love to read something like this 💕

Media Relations

Max Verstappen x Leclerc reader

Genre: a mix of everything?

Summary: the Redbull and Ferrari PR teams think it would be great publicity if you and Max have a relationship. With the promise of your brother getting a better race engineer (and the hint of a crush already) you accept. Max does too, but he hates you for some reason.

Warnings: Max is a jerk, hints at lestappen if you really squint, jos verstappen, not edited

Notes: I felt maniacal writing this tbh.

Masterlist

“No. Absolutely not.”

You stand there watching Charles pace. You can’t tell if your older brother is mad at you or the situation. Maybe both?

“I already signed the contract and so had Max.”

“Why would you do this to yourself? I trust Max, but not like this.”

It had originally been intended for Charles to sign the contract. The teams thought this type of media would be good for them. Neither Max or Charles agreed to it. They don’t want to portray something there not where there are thousands who want to be themselves but can’t. It felt unethical and just generally wrong.

That’s where you come in. If they couldn’t do it with Charles, you’re the next best option.

The contract didn’t offer you anything, other then a possibly happier brother and he knew that. When you did your time, they’d have found him a new race engineer and some better strategists.

He knew you’d give up everything to help him get his dream. That’s why he’s frustrated, not with you, but himself.

“Do you know what Max is getting out of it?”

“He mumbled something about his father but that’s all I got.”

“Just don’t get attached, please, I’m begging you.”

“Don’t worry Charlie, I’ll be fine.”

It was a lie. You knew it was going to be difficult. Mostly because you’d already had a crush in him, it he despises you with a passion,

Regardless, you two walk hand in hand together through the paddock. The fake smiles you give each other gone as soon as your tucked away from the cameras.

“You can go out the back.”

Then he disappears, leaving you stranded in the Redbull hospitality.

Most of the weekend was like this. You had to carefully divide your time between your brother and fake lover. On the bright side, everyone was raving about it. You’d already grown used to toxic fans since you’d been around racing with your brothers your entire life.

You and Max got together a few times a month to stage Instagram photos and go on fake dates.

You were somehow falling for him while he seemed to have a growing dislike for you.

Tonight, you are having dinner in Monaco. Your attempts at starting a conversation are nothing short of pointless.

"Can I ask you a question?" He grunts and doesn't look at you. So you ask anyway. "What was on your contract?"

"Why do you need to know?" Stone cold eyes pierce right through you body.

"I was just wondering. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want."

"I'd rather not talk with you about anything?"

Letting the embarrassment take over, you shift your gaze downwards. You knew what was on the contract. It was all about Jos.

Max was willing to do anything neccecary to please his father. Including getting his father into a higher position of power within the team.

Jos had been messaging you throughout the week with reminders that you're just another step for his son's success. This led to multiple arguments with the older Verstappen because you're not one to back down when defending those you care about. The slander had turned more aggressive recently, and you wanted to talk to Max about it. Too bad he hates you.

"Charlie, I don't think I can do this." You sob to your brother over the phone. "Jos is refusing to leave me alone, and Max hardly spares a glance in my direction if he doesn't have to."

"You can always break things off. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“No, this will help make your dream come true. It just doesn’t help that I was crushing on Max before we started this.”

Charles sighs heavily. “Chéri, If it comes down to it and Jos doesn’t stop then I will have words with Max.”

“Thank you, Charlie.”

It was nice having a brother that you could rely on. Lorenzo is the oldest and cares, but he has his own family, and Arthur is the youngest, so he had a tendency to steal attention.

With you and Charles both being middle kids, you two stuck together. He was your protective big brother then, and he still is now.

The next morning, you wake up to a shock. The sound of your ring tone echoing through the room.

You lazy grab it off the nightstand and look at the caller ID.

"Max?"

"I'm going to a wedding and need a plus one." He says matter of factly.

"Okay?"

"Come with me? Please? I'd rather go with you than show up alone." The sincerity in his voice sends your head into a mess of thoughts. This stupid Dutch makes no sense!

"Yeah, sure, okay."

"Great, I'll come puck you up tomorrow before noon."

"Wait, Max!" You definitely didn't mean to shout but maybe this is your opportunity to figure this whole thing out.

"Yes?"

"Why do you hate me so much?" Your voice gets quiet again as the anxiety takes over. "I just thank that if I know why then maybe I can change it."

You can hear Max's breath hitch. "It's nit that I hate you. I actually really like you." He sighs out finally. His words don't register in your brain. "I just hate the reason why we're doing this. I didn't want to get my feelings involved"

"I like you too." You say without thinking.

"Really? I thought you were just doing this for whatever is on your contract?"

"I was... but I've liked a certain Dutch with pretty blue eyes and a winners smile for a few years now."

"So what was the contract for then?"

You wonder if you should tell him. Wonder about Jos and how he might have your head later for distracting his son. But you don't care. "A better team for my brother."

"Well, that's selfless of you."

"And you? What is your contract for?" You ask, turning the subject away from yourself.

"My father wants more say in the team."

"Do you want him to have more say?"

There's a pause, and you can hear Max's mind working from the other end of the phone. "Not necessarily."

"Then why do this? Even if you liked me before why take this on?"

"Because my father wants it and I want to please him." You can hear his voice start to break. It hurts to hear him like this. "It's not a big deal though, I'll survive." He downplays. Something she's grown used to with Charles.

"We should probably get some sleep." He follows up with after your lack of response. Your thoughts still moving miles a minute.

"Yes, sorry, your right. I'll see you tomorrow Max."

"See you tommorow."

Just as he says, Max shows up right before noon hits. Knocking of your door in a nice suit.

"Wow." Is what you greet with and your face flush with embarrassment.

"Ditto."

The car ride is too short for your liking. The two of you catch up on life and simply enjoy eachothers company.

The wedding is more of the same. You are tailing Max while he talks to those he knows. It's weird seeing him genuinely smile at you. Finally, he feels like he can let himself give into his heart.

It's sunset now, and you and Max are on a balcony enjoying the view. Secluded from the rest of the guests.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Thanks for inviting me." You turn your gaze upwards at him. The sun illuminates his skin with a warm glow.

His eyes flick nervously between your eyes and your mouth. He wants to do it but can't get the courage. The intimacy of this is far to much for him.

So you do it instead, and he lets himself relax in the hold of your lips.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that."

Max and you weren't pretending anymore, and both teams could see it. Which is why you sit in a cramped conference room with your pr teams and team principles.

You feel out of place since you're not a driver. You don't belong here.

"Your contracts are null now."

"I'm sorry, what?" Your taken aback. How had you violated your contract?

"You two are actually dating now, so the contrat no longer works. We wanted to stage a breakup at the end of it, but we can't do that now."

Max is avoiding the gaze of Jos and plays with your fingers for comfort. His mind boggled with how that has turned from great to shit and five minutes.

After sitting through what the contract being void now entails, you and Max find a quiet spot to talk things out.

"I wanted to help Charlie so bad. Worse is that I don't remember that being in the original contract."

"I think something is definitely wrong here. I may not have liked my end of the deal, but yours was for good reason."

You tear up over thoughts of having to endure another season of Charles getting frustrated with his team after every race.

Max holds you close and wipes your tears away. "Whatever happens we'll figure this out, we're in this together now remeber?"

His words bring a warm feeling to your body. You and Max are a team now even without the contracts. Somehow, that Max you feel even more connected to him.

Part Two? ��

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fuckyeahisawthat · 2 months

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thank you so much for that excellent chani post. i've seen some annoying takes on twitter about how not making her totally devoted and subservient to paul makes her 'unlikeable' and i'm like. buddy. i think that speaks more to how you see women. than anything about her. this chani is very dynamic and interesting to me.

i'll be honest and say i've not read the books. this is me speaking from what i've seen of summaries, but i think giving her a real cause to fight for yet also genuinely loving paul gives her an interesting struggle, and also plays into how the portrayal of the fremen (seems to me to be) more diverse and nuanced. as in, the fremen themselves seem to have more of a push-and-pull to them. the clarification of how different fremen believe differently (the south being more fundamentalist) is a very important thing to include in a movie where you can run into the danger of saying that all adherents to a foreign, islam-adjacent (in coding) religion are all fundamentalists. that can (in less nuanced hands) be a pretty irresponsible thing. so showing that there's also more secular/pragmatic/less dogmatic sectors of the culture seems a pretty good counterweight.

so yeah. this is how i processed it as a movie-goer. and having chani represent that aspect (believing in people over prophecy, action over religion) and having stilgar as the humanized face of the southern peoples (showing that yknow, regardless of being fundamenist beliefs, theyre still PEOPLE with the capacity for love, friendship, honor) makes total logical sense. you're not just "telling" us that there's different aspects to fremen culture, you're SHOWING us by showing different characters who represent those aspects, without demonizing either or turning either into a one-note stereotype.

Thank you! I'm not someone who was a long-term fan of the books before the movie came out (I tried reading Dune as a teenager when I was reading a lot of classic sci-fi but found it too boring) but I did read Dune and Dune Messiah after the first movie came out, both because I wanted to know what happened next and because I wanted to have an opinion on how the movies worked as adaptations.

(book and movie spoilers below and also I basically ended up writing a whole essay in response to this)

My single biggest frustration with the book is that after they arrive at Sietch Tabr and Jessica drinks the Water of Life and becomes Reverend Mother...the book up and skips two years of the story and when we next see Paul he's already got Fremen followers who are ready to die for him and he's in an established relationship with Chani. Oh I was SO MAD when I got to this part. I was like FRANK. FRANK!!!! Did you seriously just skip two years of the most interesting part of your own story???

The thing is, even though I know that Frank Herbert's intention was to write a critique of the idea that oppressed people need an enlightened external (white) savior to liberate them...if you don't provide an alternate explanation for what's happening then you end up falling into some Orientalist tropes anyway. And because, in the book, we don't see the process of how your average background fedaykin comes to trust Paul as a military and political leader, there is nothing in the text to counter the idea that the Fremen are a bunch of unquestioning religious fanatics easily swayed to do violence by belief in a prophecy.

My second biggest frustration with the book is that we're given no reason at all why Chani would fall in love with Paul. While she has some memorable scenes, she doesn't have a lot to do as a character in the book, and she's missing from a whole chunk of the end...because she's in the south...because she and Paul have a baby, Leto II, who's then killed off-page when the sardaukar attack the south. (I'm honestly really glad they cut this from the film, because it never seemed to be given the narrative weight it deserved in the book.)

So you can imagine how happy I was when the Villeneuve movies figured out how to address both these frustrations by tying them together. The fedaykin don't just blindly accept Paul because of some prophecy. They come to trust him because he proves himself as a fighter, and because he starts out from a place of genuine solidarity and humility--which it is possible for him to do because he has no structural power over them at that point. And Chani falls in love with him for the same reason, in that heady environment of fighting side by side for a political cause, and maybe for the first time in a while starting to believe that you can win.

I think the Villeneuve movies improve a lot on what's in the book in terms of how the Fremen are portrayed...when we're with the fedaykin and/or Chani and Stilgar. There we see political debates and discussion and the fact that not all the Fremen think the same way. And we also see little humanizing moments of folks just hanging out, celebrating after a victory in battle and just shooting the shit and being friends.

I do wish the movie had extended this to more parts of Fremen society. If there's one thing I could have added, it would be seeing more of daily life in Sietch Tabr. It makes sense that when we're seeing things from Jessica's POV, she is more distant from and suspicious of the Fremen, seeing them as a force to be manipulated, but I wish we had even one or two scenes of people just being people in the sietch. It felt kind of weirdly empty and not particularly lived-in as a place, and I think they could've easily countered this, with scenes from Chani, Stilgar or Paul's POV, and that would have made it hit even harder when the sietch is attacked.

If there were two things I could have added, I wanted more exploration of the people of the south. Why are they more fundamentalist than the Fremen who live in the north? (We get one line about how "nothing can survive [in the south] without faith" but I wanted more than that.) While I think the movie did a fantastic job of humanizing and differentiating the Fremen we see around Paul, when we get to the south it does backslide a little into "undifferentiated mass of fanatics." Surely the people of the south also have some diversity of political views.

I think there are some interesting threads they could have pulled on in terms of how proximity to direct colonial violence shapes people's ideology. Sietch Tabr is one of the closest Fremen communities to Arrakeen, the seat of colonial control. They have probably had to mount some kind of armed resistance for generations just to keep from being wiped out. I can see that producing skepticism of the prophecy ("well I can't sit around waiting for a messiah but I do have this rocket launcher") as well as resentment at the idea of someone swooping in and taking credit for a struggle that you've put your life on the line for, and probably a lot of people you know have died for. There seem to be some generational differences, too, where young people of Chani's generation put less stock in the prophecy, while the true believers are mostly older. I can see faith in the prophecy coming out of despair--when you've been fighting for decades with no change, maybe you draw the conclusion that only an outside power coming to your aid will make a difference. While the people of the south are still under colonial rule, maybe being generally outside the reach of direct Harkonnen violence (the Harkonnens don't even know they're there) makes the concepts of both oppression and liberation feel more abstract and more receptive to being filled in with Bene Gesserit mysticism. It seems absurd to want more from a movie that's nearly three hours long already...but I wanted more of this.

Still, I do think they managed to improve on a lot of things that frustrated me or are simply dated about the book, while keeping the political thriller/war drama/epic tragedy elements that I think are the heart of the story, and in some cases drawing them out more clearly and effectively than the book did. The best kind of book-to-film adaptation imo is one that has a strong point of view in terms of what the story is About, on a large-scale thematic level, and is not afraid to change individual elements of canon in service of telling that story the most effective way possible in a cinematic medium. While there are always things I want more of, I feel like Denis Villeneuve really, really understood the assignment in terms of the overarching themes of the the story and he delivered so fucking well.

#dune #dune spoilers #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune 2021 #dune books #chani kynes #asks answered

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hardlyinteresting · 2 months

Text

To have and to hold

Thoughts about Hotch getting remarried.

It makes him nervous the first time he thinks about proposing. Of course, it's the natural progression of the stable relationship he's been cultivating with you, but the prospect terrifies him. He gets past it though, and reminds himself to live in the current moment and trust his loved ones.

I think he still has his old wedding band and honestly, probably Haley's tucked away in a keepsake box somewhere. I think it's been a very long time since he's thought about them. But they meant something once upon a time. At first his wedding band was something he was clinging on to, still somewhat in denial about the end of his marriage. When Haley died he kept her ring thinking Jack might want them someday.

His first ring was yellow gold, I think if he got remarried he'd insist on having a white gold, platinum, or silver ring. He wants something different and he doesn't want to carry old memories and feelings into a new relationship dynamic. You deserve better. He deserves better.

Controversial, but I don't think Aaron would be a big glitzy, ring kind of guy. I think if he’s going to get married again it’s going to be about the relationship more than any external expectations. He’s beyond happy to be with you, but he doesn’t feel the need to prove anything to the world. If you want a massive ring it’s yours, but I think he’d pick something high quality and stunning regardless. I think there’s a possibility that he wouldn’t have a ring for you when he proposed. Like I can see him just blurting out the question one night.It's a special and shared moment even if it’s not premeditated. He’d be kicking himself internally for not doing something special for you, but you’re beside yourself happy anyway. You’d go to pick out a ring together. It's something you're going to wear forever and he wants you to be happy with it. He pays more than enough attention to what jewelry you normally wear, and what styles you gravitate towards, he could easily make an educated guess and pick out the perfect ring but again I think he'd like the idea of it being a shared moment. Once you have the ring he’d 10000% propose again “properly” this time before slipping the ring onto your finger.

It terms of the wedding itself, I think he'd be happy having a wedding whatever size you pleased. He'd be equally as content going to the court house for a civil service as he would be having a large ceremony. For him it's about the union more than it is about the pomp of the occasion. I do think that if you had a larger ceremony you'd be legally married on paper the week before, simply because it makes the paperwork easier.

He definitely asks Jack if he's comfortable with you guys getting married long before he proposes. Jack is his priority, and him being happy, comfortable, and excited by the idea of you guys getting married is the confirmation Aaron needs to know he's doing the right thing.

Request Guidlines | Request here! | Masterlist

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fluff

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 4 months

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Can I please request an HC with a Foreigner Darling with Nanami from JJK, Captain from Hellsing and Byakuya Kuchiki from Bleach?

Nanami's got some knowledge of foreign cultures, but he doesn't speak English that well and if you speak any other language, he doesn't understand. So conversations will be in either simple Japanese or English, or he'll use a translator app. He tries to learn about your culture and incorporate it so you don't get too homesick. He also teaches you Japanese if you struggle with it and is a much more patient and kind teacher than how he is with the kids at Jujutsu High lol. He likes the idea of marrying you, but he leaves what kind of wedding he'd have up to you: Japanese traditional wedding at a shrine, a Western style wedding, etc. He just wants you to be his wifey/househusband, the ceremony itself is less important to him. Ideally he wants a more private ceremony though, just because he hates big parties with a bunch of guests...or one particular guest named Gojo who he knows would make a special day much more annoying. The Captain has little conception of cultures outside of what he knows of Milennium's German roots and hazy memories of Werewolf culture with his own people. And because he doesn't speak, you would think he doesn't understand language; in reality, he understands many languages but just doesn't speak them. So he can understand what you say even if he doesn't ever respond. He tries to give you little trinkets or items to remind you of your home, like books or food. He isn't sure how you're supposed to treat a mate, especially one that is a human. But doing things like this is probably good, right? Byakuya would be a bit angsty about it, because he's a noble and he knows firsthand how much pushback he got for marrying a lower-class woman like Hisana. Despite his love for her and for you, he knows that a foreigner would be borderline unacceptable to marry. So he would try to resign himself to pining from afar and keeping a distance, but that makes his obsession worse lol. He would eventually decide to court you anyway and damn the consequences or criticism from the other nobles in and out of the Kuchiki family. But he would also insist on training you in everything a Shinigami nobleman's wife would need to know: calligraphy, flower arrangement, tea ceremony, wearing kimono, dancing and playing instruments, etc. He wouldn't force you to assimilate and abandon your own culture or anything, but he would press the issue that being his bride (even if you didn't even ask for that) has responsibilities. But he trusts you to do them and loves you regardless. He tries to learn about and participate in your culture, too. Ie. if you're Mexican, he wants to make an ofrenda next to the family altar for Dia de los Muertos. If you're Black he refuses to do anything with your hair that you don't want, and he snaps at anyone who comments about it; he's very quick to remind them that for all his faults, Kaname Tosen was a very refined man who never looked "sloppy" or "unkempt" with his hair worn in dreadlocks. He learns about matryoshka from a Russian Darling and makes a new line of Ambassador Seaweed nesting dolls.

#.bleach #.byakuya #.jjk #.nanami #.hellsing #.captain #yandere bleach #yandere byakuya #yandere jjk #yandere nanami #yandere hellsing #yandere captain #foreign darling #.myshit

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lai-mar · 10 days

Text

Re: Winged Lion fulfilling Laios' desires + "Marcille will no longer have to be alone"

Throughout the lion's persuasion, Laios has been acting reluctant / defensive / angry / embarrassed. He tells the lion that his desires of having monsters attack a village was a foolish childhood fantasy. Concerning Falin, the lion tells him he's being a hypocrite because he's wishing for a peaceful world and they can't revive Falin without magic, then the lion says they'll move onto more cheerful topics and digs into Laios' "true" subconscious desire to become a monster (reflected in the succubus chapter).

Laios is clearly uncomfortable but the lion continues digging in. The lion mentions Laios' own desires of becoming a monster, loving monsters, desires that define Laios as a person, and almost glosses over his will to revive Falin? Because we all know he loves his sister and wants to save her. It's a noble and sympathetic act. But turning in a monster and potentially terrorizing or at least scaring people? Just because he wants to? To make up for his lack of social tact and his seeming distaste for humankind? That's not noble. So naturally Laios clings onto his goal of saving Falin (evident in the scene when the lion curses him and Laios immediately thinks of Falin), and just as naturally, the lion wants to uncover that and make him confront his "true" desire.

Laios loves his friends and his party, but I think the lion isn't granting them full livelihoods out of pure selflessness on Laios' behalf. Because his party, despite everything, accepts him. They cook with him, they journey with him to save Falin, they trust him, they support him. In the dungeon, Laios' monster knowledge is respected and valued by his friends. Right before the confrontation with the lion, Laios gives each of his party members something to do, in particular telling Izutsumi to kill him. This is probably because of her skills and the fact that he's known Izutsumi the least (and they're less close compared to, let's say, Izutsumi and Marcille). But regardless of how long he's known them, he trusts them. He feels comfortable and confident around them. He feels supported. He knows his friends will do what he told them to do. And in a world in which Laios struggles to navigate due to his social skills, his companions are very precious to him. The party is aware of Laios' shortcomings but they follow and love him anyway. Keeping them unharmed is a noble act, but also selfish, because Laios likes being accepted and cared for.

Keeping the party safe is a vague concept, but then the lion goes for the kill— Marcille's lifespan.

And you can see Laios' expression instantly changes. There's a whole panel of his face. Previously, he's been uncomfortable and defensive. Even when the lion points out his "embarrassing" and "selfish" desire to be a monster, he's not as affected as he is. Now, he's shaken. He twitches. He knows something inside him just wavered. And the lion pounces on it.

Regarding why Laios wants Marcille to not be lonely, I have some thoughts:

Sympathy

Laios is the one who saw Marcille's nightmare and knows acutely what she fears. She lost Falin and was traumatised because of it. The whole party got killed and she was also traumatised. And Laios probably thinks it's his duty as a friend, party leader, and someone who saw into her nightmare to protect her and make her happy. Falin might never come back and maybe Marcille's already lost a loved one, and Laios doesn't want that to happen again even though it inevitably will.

2. Marcille's time as a dungeon lord

Laios' argument against lord Marcille is that she can't force everyone to eat from the same menu and not everyone wants to live that long. This might be a translation issue, but the lion doesn't say it's going to extend everyone's lifespans. No, it focuses on Marcille herself and says "Marcille will no longer have to be alone". Not "everyone will live as long as Marcille" or "Marcille will live as long as everyone else". It's not about ages, it's how Marcille feels. Which is something Laios obviously cares about.

Lord Marcille was unable to fulfill her desires. What if Laios does it for her, in a kind of "two in one" demon deal? Logistically, in order for the party to keep Marcille company, they'll have to live as long as she does (note the 999 years), or as the lion says, make up a fake version of themselves to keep her company. It might not be real, and with a bit of thinking, this dream crumbles, but the lion deviously targets the emotions and it overshadows rational thought. What if it's impossible to keep Marcille company for as long as she lives? Maybe the lion will magically make it work. Just maybe. And Laios holds onto this shred of hope.

3. Solidarity of being alone

Marcille, Laios, and Falin all experienced loneliness / feeling outcasted growing up. During the nightmare sequence, Laios says Marcille is different from him because her dream takes place in a library to show how hardworking she is. But ultimately, they are people who don't like being alone. Marcille warms up to eating monsters and accepts Laios for who he is. Laios rescues Marcille from the nightmare and the lion. They are each other's comfort zones and they keep each other company.

Laios doesn't want to be alone, hence the lion offering to save his friends. And he doesn't want Marcille to be alone, because he cares for her, and she's just like him in that regard.

Mentioning Marcille's feelings is what tips Laios over the edge. He isn't embarrassed or angry, he's frozen to the ground, shaken and persuaded. Arguably, saving Marcille is also a "noble" goal in the way saving Falin is a noble goal, but I think L+M has developed so far that saving her will feel like saving him because they both just want someone to keep them company (especially with the context of having lost Falin, who keeps them company and loves them for who they are).

Before all of this, Laios trusts Marcille with his precious gourmet guide. It's his hint that he's turned into his ideal monster, but the fact that he's given the embodiment of his dreams and desires to her shows how much he trusts her and feels comfortable around her. And it's Marcille who passes the guide around their friends as they all realise the monster is Laios. Even as a monster, Laios is recognised, his friends cheer for him, they want to save him.

I don't think I've seen anyone talk about this before, but later, Marcille tries using her summoned serpent / monster to eat monster Laios. (Like how she used it to eat her friends when she was a lord.) And Marcille's monster actually swallows Laios. But then Laios claws open its stomach and breaks free. Consumption is a form of love and salvation. I liked seeing their different monsters: Marcille's being a sleek serpent with flower motifs, kind of resembling her sky fish familiar that she used to rescue Senshi and Laios' almost chaotic chimera full of bits and pieces he picked up and carefully selected (including the scylla head he picked from the succubus). Marcille tries to save Laios by using her monster to eat him. They all save Falin by eating her monster parts. Even though initially Marcille was the one most picky about eating monsters, in the end she summons her own familiars and monsters and engages in her own way of creation / consumption.

And after all of this, it's Marcille who finds human Laios first. She doesn't berate him or anything, just treats him normally, tells him everyone is waiting for him. Because they accept each other and keep each other company. That's one of their core desires. Their character arcs intertwine and in the end they live together. Neither of them will have to be alone.

#laios touden #marcille donato #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #mine #meta #hope this is coherent #laimar #<- not a shippy analysis but i want to fill up the tag with something that could be relevant and not ship bashy at least lol #long post

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jaegeraether · 5 months

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 29)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (27)

Masterlist (other parts here)

(**Trust the process...**)

Jordan was laughing so hard that YFN worried her protein shake would come up.

“Dory, it’s not funny!”

Jordan tried to talk, sitting up and wiping the tears away with the bottom of her shirt but at the sight of a worried YFN, she was right back at it, rolling around like a bug on her back on the couch. Her laugh had upgraded to a wheezing laugh as she struggled for breath which made YFN finally crack a smile and allow herself a little chuckle with her. She walked over and tilted the back of the couch up, making Jordan fall off and roll onto the carpet in the living room. Not even that stopped her. Not until Blu was getting excited at her laughing and started to lick her face and yap.

“I’m never doing anything nice again.” YFN groaned.

“Ah… Jesus… okay I’m back..” Jordan chuckled, wiping more tears away and managing to pull herself back onto the couch. “If you could see your face though.”

YFN whined. “Who the fuck writes that?! What if I wasn’t even gay? They don’t know anything about me.”

“Leah said she’s sorting it out, yeah?”

“Yeah.. she was really apologetic about it actually.”

“Of course she was. But she’s really good at sorting things like this out, no need to stress. I’m definitely not, but thanks for my daily laugh, I think I wet myself. I’m glad I didn’t take you up on that offer to go instead.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “She wanted it to be you. Besides, they actually know your name. They probably just wrote ‘partner’ because they have no clue who I am.”

Jordan pulled her down next to her and squeezed YFN’s cheek like a grandparent. “But that all changes today, chicken!”

“I’m so nervous!”

“I’m so excited for you! This is going to be great. Plus, your merch is sexy.”

“Free beanie if you pose for a photo for me.” YFN winked.

Jordan slapped her arm. “You’d give it to me for free anyways.”

“You have no idea how excited I am to see you play.”

“Don’t get your hope up chicken, Chelsea are brutal under Emma.”

“Regardless of any of that, you’re still going to be there in your little kit, and I’ll be on the sidelines waiting for a selfie and an autograph. I wish I could wear your jersey!”

Jordan grinned. “I don’t think anyone will blame you for a bit pf favouritism on your first day. I am very cute.”

“Yes.. yes you are. Very cute.” She looked at the time quickly. “Now we both have to go and I’ve had about five hours sleep since my late night drive from London. So… let’s talk about Leah.”

Jordan gave a funny face.

“She was great last night, Dory. She was helpful and chivalrous and so much fun to be around. She also gave really great advice for me about Lucy..”

This interested Jordan. “Oh? What did she say?”

YFN quoted what Leah had said to her about making a mistake by convincing herself it was what was best for everyone when it’s not.

Jordan’s lips moved from side to side while she thought. She could tell she was a little emotional.

“So… she admits it was a mistake?”

“This isn’t new, Jords.” YFN said softly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. Jordan smiled at her using ‘Jords’ instead of her nickname. “I told her that the Leah I see now is not the ‘weak’ woman who left you because she thought she wasn’t enough. She’s stronger now. More mature. She’s learnt her lesson. And… I told her about how we met.”

Jordan’s teary eyes shot up to meet YFN’s. “You told her about the beach?”

She nodded. “Multiple days, hours on end. And a little more… she cried.”

Jordan nodded, as if that would stop her tears forming. She leant back and sniffed also. That seemed to work better. “She really loves me still.”

“She does. Will you talk to her?”

Jordan went into her space and zoned out for a little bit before she nodded. “Yeah, I’ll talk to her.” Then she added in a soft voice, “But I’m scared.”

YFN wrapped her arms around her friend. There really wasn’t much to her at all. “It’s okay, she won’t hurt you. I… may have threatened her.”

Jordan looked up at her in surprise and then amusement. “Did you?”

“Of course I did. She took it well, to be honest.” They chuckled together at that. “Just take it slow, yeah? Take it at your own pace. If it doesn’t feel right, then don’t push it.”

She nodded and took out her phone. She took a deep breath in and wrote out a message, pressing send before she had a chance to backtrack. She looked at YFN and blushed with a smile at how proud she looked at her.

“Your turn, chicken.”

“My turn?”

“Oh come on. Lucy is your person. You need to talk to her eventually because there’s only so much avoiding the topic I can do with her. Besides, if I saw those photos on the internet, then Lucy definitely would have.”

“Oh… oh! You’re right. She’s going to be-”

“So fucking annoyed when she sees them and you haven’t spoken to her.” Jordan cut off with a mum look.

YFN pouted. She was right. It was time to talk to Lucy. If she was being completely honest with herself, it had been incredibly hard. It was like she needed her. Not just her body craving her, but her brain, her heart. Her Lucy. She deserved the chance to talk and explain.

YFN took her phone out under Jordan’s watchful eye and messaged Lucy.

YFN: I’m sorry for taking so long.. I’m really not used to this, Luce. I can’t stop thinking about you. Can we talk?

YFN knew she had no right to be anxious, but she was. It was now five hours later and Lucy still hadn’t replied. Fair enough, she had training. It was MD-1 for her. But still, she was usually better at replying. She looked through the FC Barca stories on Instagram again and saw Lucy looking less cheery than usual in the morning and throughout training. She bit her lip at the sight of the bandage on her left hand that she’d been wondering over all morning. All of the comments were speculative and Barca management hadn’t put out a statement about the injury so her thoughts ran a little too wild and worried.

Cheers erupted suddenly as the players started to enter the field. YFN pocketed her phone and wrapped her arms around her body to protect herself a bit better from the rain. YFN was on the sidelines, her crew spread out around the edges to get photos and videos. It was basically a practice game for them to get used to the best spots, best shots etc and they’d talked about it and planned it thoroughly all week. YFN put her fingers to her mouth and whistled loudly when she saw Jordan walking out in the starting line-up. She flashed her a grin, finding her immediately with her purple and yellow Lumos beanie on. Although the other members of her crew were also wearing the Lumos hoodie, YFN had felt the beanie would be enough and wore Lucy’s hoodie instead. It was comfy and smelled like her. Vanilla and bitter orange.

Although the game was in Birmingham, it was an unfortunate demolition of Aston Villa by Chelsea. Both sides started strong and 11 minutes in Jordan almost collected a nice assist to Rachel Daly who was on fire. She had several attempts, but all seemed to be missing to the left. YFN couldn’t help but groan. She didn’t have a favourite team, but she wanted Jordan to do well. Chelsea were up by 2 at the half-way break, YFN taking the opportunity to round up her team and have a chat. Some of their photos were incredible, and they all spoke excitedly to each other about what angles were working, what lighting and more. There was going to be a lot of footage to edit.

The second half began and within minutes Jordan had a shot on target that was saved. So close. Jordan was subbed off at the 71st minute mark, looking frustrated as she walked off. Chelsea were up 5-0.

It ended 6-0 to Chelsea. 6 goals with 6 different goal scorers, and if that wasn’t impressive enough, they were missing their best striker, Sam Kerr. It was undeniable how good they were. How clinical. There were unbelievable players on both sides, she thought, Rachel Daly unable to be used to potential during the game for Aston Villa. She also loved how Jordan played, which was much more aggressive than she’d imagined, and she wondered if Lucy had encouraged that at all. Jordan seemed to get annoyed easily on the field, but she also managed to pick the ball from players when they didn’t expect it.

When the game was done, a few players from both sides came over for a chat. As she’d said at the pub, they weren’t conducting interviews yet, and so they were just friendly chats with players interested in Lumos. Most players requested photos of themselves to be sent to them, and YFN agreed to this. If they’d post them on their Instagram with the Lumos watermark, that would be a great start.

Jordan wandered over after Millie Bright and Erin Cuthbert had finished their conversation with YFN. She greeted them briefly and almost fell into YFN’s arms. Tired little Dory after 71 minutes of running around.

“I’m your number one fan, Miss Nobbs, will you sign my hoodie?”

Jordan was disappointed at the game but grinned at that. “I’ll do you one better, chicken.”

Jordan removed her jersey and signed it before giving it to YFN who’s mouth had dropped open. “Really?”

Jordan seemed proud of herself. “Really.” She had her arms wrapped around her little body, shivering in the rain.

“Come here!” YFN took one of the Lumos merch hoodies she had and pulled it over her friend’s head. “I know it’s company merch, but you can just hide the logo with your arms if you want.”

“Ohhh it’s so warm.” She said as she pulled the hood up, still shivering. YFN pulled her to her chest and rubbed her back. “Y..Yeeeeees.”

“Comfy, huh? You played brilliantly out there, Dory. I didn’t realise how aggressive you get when you play?”

“Do I?” She asked sheepishly.

“Ohhh yes. Very entertaining. Also, do they not have a kit small enough for you?”

“I’m an extra extra extra small. And no, they apparently don’t. I’ll need a belt for my shorts soon!”

Matt and Ruby appeared then, wide-eyed at YFN holding Jordan to keep her warm. They were both from Birmingham and Matt was an Aston Villa fan. “J…Jordan Nobbs, I’m Matt… hey.” He introduced himself with an awkward hand out.

Jordan was amused by this and shook his hand. “Hello Matt. Did you get any good photos? You were almost chasing us up the boundary line!”

“Oh! I hope it wasn’t distracting. I’m a videographer and I have a few of you if you’d like to see?”

Matt and Ruby showed Jordan the footage they’d gotten for her, proud when Jordan was obviously impressed.

“Oh I think this is going to work out great, chicken.” She said to YFN with a grin.

“We’ll make sure to edit the footage and have it sent to you tomorrow for approvals to post, and for your own use.” She smiled.

“Yes! Please! And I was thinking pizza tonight?”

“I would die for some pizza and hot chocolate in this weather. The crew and I need to go through a lot of editing though before the games tomorrow though.”

“Just bring everyone over! We have room. There’s only eight people, right? I’ll get extra pizza.”

“Wait.. you LIVE together?” Ruby asked.

Jordan looked at YFN and gave a little chuckle. “You haven’t told them?”

She shrugged. “It didn’t seem relevant… but I think that’s a great idea. We’ll all have pizza and do some editing, as long as no one is allergic to Blu.”

“I get to meet Blu?!” Matt asked before he blushed at his admittance that he knew Jordan had a dog.

“As long as everyone is out by 8pm. We need to get some sleep.” Jordan slapped her friend’s shoulder.

“Five of our guys need to get back to London tonight so they’ll all be out early. As for pizza…Joe can shout that.” YFN said with a wink at Jordan.

They’d been through five pizzas and hours of footage and photos when YFN’s phone finally dinged. She’d never picked up her phone so quick in her life. Jordan gave her a look that she missed as the room drowned out and she focussed on her phone.

Lucy: Sorry, little one. Just got home from training. Lost my phone yesterday.

YFN: How are you texting me..?

Lucy: MacBook.

YFN: I was starting to worry.. can we talk?

Lucy: We need to talk, but not over text. I’m not a good texter. Security said a fan found my phone so I’ll get it tomorrow at the game and call you after it, okay?

YFN could tell Lucy had something to say and agreed that it would be best to talk over the phone rather than things being misinterpreted over text.

YFN: Okay Luce.

Lucy: I’ll call you about five-thirty your time. Will you be free?

YFN: Okay, I’ll be driving to Crawley then.

Lucy: You’ll be staying in the London apartment overnight, I hope?

A worried Lucy meant she still cared.

YFN: Is that still okay?

Lucy: I’d be upset if you didn’t. I meant it when I gave you that keychain.

YFN looked down at it. Three different coloured house keys, the car key, and three flags. She bit her lip and remembered the look in Lucy’s eyes when she’d given it to her. It was the best present anyone have ever given her. They had so much to talk about, but most were better off over the phone except one.

YFN: I love it, Luce. How’s your hand?

Lucy: It’s okay. Stupid accident. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, okay?

YFN: Yes, please. Have a good game tomorrow, Luce.

There had been no text from Lucy when she woke, but she’d expected that. Her start to the day was slow as she woke early to pack her bag for an overnight in London. She left before Jordan was even awake, putting her overnight bag in the boot before she got in the driver’s seat. She looked down at the little keyring that Lucy had given her. She’d only realised today that the key colours represented her clubs. The blue key for Manchester represented Man City, the red key for London represented England, and the yellow key for Barca represented Spain and the Barca away kit from 2022. It would be her first time using the keys, and the idea of using them felt a little wrong to her, especially after the previous few days. She felt bad. She played with the little flags before putting them in the cup holder and starting the car.

She arrived at Meadow Park early, glad that her reserved parking space was close so she wouldn’t be so held up trying to get to the end of the Spurs and Everton game. She met up with Bridget and Emily who were a couple, and both Arsenal supporters. It was very obvious, the way they were practically bouncing up and down. Bridget and Emily both did a bit of videography and photography, however it was clear that Emily was better with photographs and Bridget with videography as Bridget was a bit more excitable when it came to chasing players around the boundary lines for videos, whereas Emily was definitely the more shy and level-headed one. They were incredibly entertaining.

As YFN was also present, she would make the most of herself by taking some photos also. As she was setting up her camera, she felt two arms slide around her waist and pick her up in a hug.

“Ohhhh here she is!” Caitlin almost shouted.

“I could pick you up with one arm, chick, there’s nothin’ to ya!” Katie said as she put her back down.

YFN laughed and hugged the pair. They were in their warmup gear, ready to prep with the rest of their teammates who were entering the field. Kyra saw them and ran over excitedly.

“Finally here to watch the Aussies, huh?” She cheered as she leapt onto Caitlin’s back.

“You’re so annoyin’!” Caitlin laughed. Kyra was definitely the little sister of the group.

“I’m a bit worried we won’t be able to keep up with you, to be honest. You’re just too quick, mate.” YFN winked, knowing Kyra would love the compliment. She did. She grinned proudly.

Bridget and Emily noticed the interaction then and couldn’t resist walking. YFN introduced her excited and nervous colleagues to the trio.

“Oh, I’ve seen you around in the stands before.” Caitlin said.

“Yeah, don’t you two do Tik Toks?” Katie asked.

“We used to have a Tik Tok and Instagram channel for female football, but now we’ve had a lot more training and we’re with Lumos.” Bridget said, proud that they recognised them.

“Ohh upgradin’ to the big leagues are ya? Well it’s nice to have you in the team. We’re lookin’ forward to the photos you can get for us.”

“If you can keep up!” Kyra said, flexing her bicep. Katie grinned while Caitlin rolled her eyes in fake annoyance.

“Bridget and Emily are massive Gooners, they’ll keep up for sure.”

Jonas called out then and the trio said their goodbyes as they headed over to warmup.

“How is it that you know everyone already?” Bridget asked as she looked at the team in awe. “We’ve been around forever and we’ve never met them.”

YFN shrugged. “Luck, I guess?”

Both Katie and Caitlin were starting for Arsenal, with Caitlin’s Matildas teammate Steph Catley and Lucy’s England teammates, Lotte Wubben-Moy and Alessia Russo. For Man City, Lucy’s old team, there were two Matildas; Alanna Kennedy and Mary Fowler as well as a few of the England squad also; Chloe Kelly, Lauren Hemp, Esme Morgan and upcoming goalkeeper Khiara Keating. The game was a mess… but it was great. The referee had given out so many yellow cards that even YFN who knew the bare minimum about the sport knew it was overkill. In the first 20 minutes, there were 4 yellow cards, 2 to each team, and a goal for Arsenal. A beautiful assist from Caitlin to her Aussie teammate Steph who launched top bins at the 14 minute mark. By half time it was 1-0 Arsenal, and 6 yellow cards had been given out. The teams were very evenly matched, both with incredible players from all over the world.

After half time, the game restarted just as crazy as the first half and at the 53rd minute mark, Caitlin was shown a yellow for a bad foul. A few substitutions were made for both teams in the 60th minute, however it didn’t seem effective until Man City scored their equaliser with Chloe Kelly. Steph went down hard in the 85th minute, and finally Arsenal had their second goal 2 minutes later. Unfortunately, their goal had come at the cost of a bad mistake make by the Man City keeper, Khiara Keating who was left in tears. More shots were made, more substitutions and of course, Katie managed the game’s 8th yellow card in overtime for a bad foul.

The game ended 2-1 Arsenal, effectively ending Man City’s unbeaten start to the season. It was the best game of football she’d ever seen, though she couldn’t help but be upset for the young Man City goalkeeper who couldn’t seem to be consoled for her mistake. She had spoken to her at the pub, though knew she didn’t know her well enough to try and comfort her. Her teammates were already supporting her enough. She looked over at Bridget and Emily who were being respectful and not trying to get any footage of her as she walked off the field.

Kyra came back over to YFN before any of the others could, and they started chatting. She was the newest signing to the club and hadn’t had the opportunity to show how good she was, but she seemed confident that she would.

“Will you cover internationals?”

“That’s the plan! My boss wants to take over everything so this is really just the beginning.”

“Yeah the girls were showing me some of the photos and they look great!”

“We’ll send them to you so you can do what you want with them also. Promote yourself, mate.”

“They don't cost anything?”

“Nope.”

“You’re going to be so busy..”

“Oh don’t I know it. We’ve only covered two games so far but I can already see we need a lot more people for all areas, especially editing.” She groaned, looking over to where Katie, Steph and Caitlin were making their way over.

Kyra noticed and spoke nervously before they arrived. “Have you… been to a Leicester game yet?”

“Leicester? No, that one’s in Liverpool tonight so I’m missing it this round.”

“Okay.”

YFN wondered at her question. “Are you a secret Leicester fan?”

“No! No.. I just.. I know someone who plays for them.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Well there’s Remy Siemsen who’s Aussie too..” She looked at the trio getting closer. “..and then there’s Courtney Nevin…”

YFN understood now. Caitlin had told her about that. Courtney and Kyra grew up together and went to high school with each other. They dated for a while and then had a falling out, both unfollowing each other and never seen talking to each other. She looked at the young Australian who was blushing and looking at her feet. She leant closer to talk quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. “Would you like me to talk to her?”

“I’m not sure. I just.. think I want to make sure she’s okay.”

YFN caught her eye and gave her a supportive smile and a nod. “I’ll do that when I see her, okay? I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” She whispered.

“Ohhhh COONEY CROSS CROSS CROSS.” Caitlin wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her close. “Debut next week for you, Ky, I bet money on it.”

Kyra grinned.

“That’ll be fun against Leicester, you can run wild!” Katie said.

Kyra’s face dropped, and her eyes widened as she caught YFN’s eye. That’s right, it was Arsenal vs Leicester next week. “Will you be there?”

“I won’t… I’ll be covering the Bristol, Aston Villa game in Bristol. Matt and Ruby will be covering that one.”

Kyra gave her a ‘please help’ look that she couldn’t avoid. “But now that I think about it… it would make more sense for me to switch with Matt and do the United/West Ham game and then the Arsenal/Leicester game so I have more interaction with the players. Plus, Matt is a huge Aston Villa fan.”

Kyra looked a little relieved.

“Steph, great game!” YFN said, looking at the Matilda’s vice-captain. “Great goal.”

“Aw, thank you! I’m not really known for my goals so I’m happy to get one.”

The five of them bantered for a little with Bridget and Emily joining them, utterly star struck as they showed them their photos and videos. Then Katie insisted that they do an interview together.

“I don’t have my equipment... my microphones. I haven’t even prepped questions.”

“Oh bull, we’ll be fine. Besides, we’ll answer anythin’ you ask.”

“Microphones are right here,” Bridget said sheepishly as she opened her equipment box.

YFN thought for a second before deciding she couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Players were never interviewed more than two at a time usually, so it would be a brilliant first interview.

She set them up with their mics and Bridget set up the camera. YFN was nervous, but she went with it.

“Okay, rolling? Fantastic. We’re here at Meadow Park with four of our Gunners, and the famous Ausenal trio. Now, we didn’t originally plan for an interview today, but Katie insisted on it…”

“Heeey hey hey, don’t tell them that!” Katie laughed before looking at her teammates. “And now that you say it, I’m feelin’ a little excluded bein’ the only non-Aussie here.”

“Are you used to being around the Aussies yet?”

“They’re so unique that I’m not sure to be fair.”

“Aw come on, we’re not that bad, mate.” Caitlin chimed in. They shared a look. “Maybe Kyra.”

“She is the annoying little sister.” Steph laughed.

Kyra rolled her eyes and looked at YFN. “They’re always complaining, but they love me really.”

The interview went so naturally between the five that YFN had lost all sense of nervousness. Instead, it ended up being good banter and she could see from the reactions of Bridget and Emily that it must have been entertaining. They spoke a little about Kyra settling in, Steph’s goal, Man City’s players and then with Caitlin starting them all teasing Katie about her late yellow card. Katie never admitted to it, but it was obvious she enjoyed her reputation of yellow cards with that cheeky Irish smile of hers.

“Oh, here’s trouble.” Steph said as Alanna Kennedy crashed their interview. She was a defender for Man City, and the Matildas. She greeted them all, obviously knowing the Australians, knowing Katie because she was dating Caitlin, and knowing YFN from their long conversation at the pub.

“Hey babe, I’m a bit offended you never asked me for an interview.” She teased; arm slung around Caitlin’s shoulder.

“Oh, I was forced into this, mate.” YFN grinned.

“Well let me call Alex over and we’ll give you the Man City perspective…”

Alex Greenwood joined the now extending interview, the girls having to share the microphones between them, and Bridget needing to step back just to get them all in frame.

They spoke about Man City, and YFN made sure to compliment the way the Arsenal and Man City players were able to compliment each other’s teams, players and good plays. They had a brief conversation about that being one of the great, major differences between the men and women’s games, and Kyra made a cheeky comment also about not rolling around on the ground for as long.

YFN wasn’t going to bring up the incident with Khiara Keating, but Alex and Alanna did, both showing their support. The Arsenal girls were also incredibly supportive about the incident also, and Katie spoke about mistakes that she had made that were necessary to the player she was now.

They ended the interview as the girls were all called over to their teams, and Kyra stole the Lumos beanie from YFN’s head. She rolled her eyes and laughed at them as they ran away. Bridget and Emily were gushing about it all the way to the car park, excited to edit the video. They all said goodbyes and parted ways, the pair headed to Crawley for the Brighton/United game while YFN was stopping by the Spurs/Everton game to check on Matt and Ruby.

YFN arrived just in the last ten minutes of the game as Everton were able to equalise with a goal. She spoke to Matt about the change of schedule for the next week, and he seemed excited to be covered Aston Villa again, not minding about the extra drive, and Ruby offering to pick YFN up from the airport as she would be flying in from Barcelona.

Before she left Brisbane Road stadium, she checked the Barca game to see how Lucy was doing. It was well into the second half 7-0 to Barca, with 4 goals by Salma, 3 assists by Graham Hansen, and 1 beautiful assisted lob by Lucy. The next 3 goals were made after half time, 1 assist by Alexia before Lucy was subbed out at the 58th minute. Alexia was subbed out not long after, and she wondered at that, looking at the highlights of the parts of the game she’d missed. What interested her was the fact that the commentators were speaking about how aggressive Lucy and Alexia were being. Both had been yellow carded, which was a rarity for them, and from the highlights, she thought they were both lucky to have only gotten yellows. They were pushing and shoving and getting a lot of aggression out. It made sense that they’d both been subbed off, even though they were playing incredibly well.

She started driving, finding herself thirty minutes away from Crawley when the clock ticked over to five-thirty. She waited for the phone call a little nervously. As each minute ticked over, she grew more and more disheartened. Eventually she arrived at Crawley, pulling up into the stadium and giving up on waiting for the phone call that would never come.

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #engwnt #lionesses #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader

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