#face reading this text so i deeply apologize

[a-luran]

Holy shit thay is absolutely rotten behaviour. You should tell someone so they can go rock her shit because she needs it. A friend or colleague or anything, family, boss, random grandma, it literally doesn't matter but someone needs to go and have a word with her if yours won't work. You're not a coward, anyone would want to avoid that sort of interaction, I'd run from the entire building. That woman is fucking vile. I'm so sorry about this

i appreciate it. some of my friends know because they overheard and I explained. unfortunately there is not much to be done. the friends that do very deeply mind have been very helpful in listening to the details and helping me work out how to move past it. I would love to believe that one day she'll face some kind of consequence, if not for this then for her bigotted attitudes and her callousness towards other people but i really hold no illusions about what people see when they see her and how little people actually care to rock the boat.

[mythicalmaven]

19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected. 

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening? 

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling. 

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Sequel

Masterlist

[heich0e]

"can i call you later?"

the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.

"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"

rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.

you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.

rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.

"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"

your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.

"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.

you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.

"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.

you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.

"my train is coming," you say.

he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.

you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.

"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.

you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.

you call back to him just before you step into the station.

"rintarou—"

there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.

you smile.

"—call me later."

he calls you almost every night after that.

even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.

even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.

even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.

you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.

"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.

"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.

"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"

rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.

"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."

you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.

you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.

"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."

you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"

rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.

"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."

you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.

"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.

you fell in love through those phone calls.

you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.

you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.

he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.

"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.

you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.

in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.

"oop—hello?"

you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.

the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.

"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.

you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.

"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)

"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.

"i know," he replies.

it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.

you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.

"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"

you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.

he tilts his head.

"—wanna join me?"

[rmview]

fight reconciliation, ENHYPEN.

featuring — enhypen members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — when the enhypen boys come to apologize after saying something hurtful in a fight! ( can be read as part 2 of this )

contents — reconciliation, apologies.

hee ➷ seung

heeseung sat on the couch, head in his hands as the weight of his earlier words pressed down on him. he didn’t mean it — not even close. now, the memory of your pained expression haunted him.

after hours of pacing, heeseung grabbed his phone, hesitating before calling you. no answer. he sighed, deciding to do this in person. showing up unannounced might be risky, but he couldn’t bear letting things fester any longer.

when you opened the door, your expression was guarded. heeseung’s heart clenched, but he forced himself to meet your gaze. “can i come in? please?”

you stepped aside silently, and he entered, suddenly hyperaware of how small the space felt with tension between you.

“i... i messed up,” heeseung began, his voice cracking slightly. “what i said earlier — it was stupid and cruel, and i didn’t mean any of it. i was frustrated, and instead of talking like an adult, i lashed out.”

your silence made him nervous, so he continued, stepping closer cautiously. “you mean so much to me. i don’t even know why i said something like that. maybe i was scared... of losing you. but i ended up pushing you away instead.”

you finally looked at him, hurt still visible in your eyes. “you can’t just say things like that, heeseung. words hurt.”

“i know.” he reached for your hands but stopped, unsure if it was too soon. “i can’t take back what i said, but i want to show you that i didn’t mean it. let me prove it to you.”

after a long pause, you sighed. “you have a lot to make up for.”

heeseung nodded earnestly. “i’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it if i have to.”

jay ➷

jay replayed the argument in his mind like a broken record. “you’re being so dramatic! it’s exhausting!” he’d snapped. the look on your face was seared into his memory, and it made his chest ache every time he thought about it.

he knew he needed to apologize, but finding the right words was daunting. instead of calling, he spent hours preparing a small gesture — a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a handwritten note.

when he knocked on your door, the sight of you opening it with a hesitant expression made his breath hitch. “hi,” he said softly, holding out the flowers. “these are for you.”

you accepted them but didn’t invite him in. “what do you want, jay?”

“to apologize,” he said immediately. “what i said earlier was horrible. you didn’t deserve that, and i hate that i made you feel that way.”

you crossed your arms, watching him carefully. “so, why did you say it?”

jay exhaled deeply. “because i’m an idiot. i let my frustration get the better of me, and instead of handling things like a decent person, i lashed out. that’s on me, not you.”

you didn’t respond right away, so he stepped closer. “i don’t want you to think i don’t appreciate you because i do. you mean everything to me. please let me fix this.”

your expression softened slightly, but you still seemed hesitant. “you can’t just fix this overnight, jay.”

“i know.” his voice was quiet but steady. “but i’ll work at it every day if that’s what it takes.”

jake ➷

jake couldn’t sleep. the guilt gnawed at him relentlessly, replaying the moment he’d blurted his words in frustration. the hurt in your eyes had been immediate and profound, and the memory of it was enough to make him feel physically ill.

he grabbed his phone, considering texting you, but no words felt right. instead, he decided to face you in person.

when you opened the door, jake looked at you with wide, apologetic eyes. “hey,” he said, voice almost a whisper. “can we talk?”

you hesitated before nodding, stepping aside to let him in.

jake sat on the edge of your couch, wringing his hands nervously. “i’ve been thinking about what i said earlier,” he began. “it was completely out of line, and i’m so sorry.”

you stayed silent, so he continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “i didn’t mean it — not a single word. i was frustrated and stupid, and instead of talking things out, i said something awful. you didn’t deserve that.”

“why did you say it, then?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

jake looked down, guilt evident on his face. “because i’m scared sometimes. of not being enough for you. and when things get tense, i let that fear take over. it’s no excuse, though. i’m so sorry.”

you sighed, sitting across from him. “words have consequences, jake. they hurt.”

“i know,” he said quickly. “and i’ll do anything to make it right. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. i don’t want to lose you.”

you looked at him for a long moment before nodding slightly. “you have a lot to make up for.”

jake’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile. “i’ll make up for it. i promise.”

sung ➷ hoon

sunghoon paced his apartment, replaying the argument in his mind. he didn’t mean to say it, but in the heat of frustration, they slipped out, cutting deeper than he’d realized in the moment.

he couldn’t let things end like this. he grabbed his keys and headed straight to your place, his heart pounding with every step. when you opened the door, the hurt in your eyes made him freeze.

“what do you want, sunghoon?” you asked, your tone guarded.

“to apologize,” he said quickly, his voice softer than usual. “i said something i didn’t mean, and i hate that i hurt you.”

you didn’t move to let him in, so he stayed on your doorstep, running a hand through his hair nervously. “i was frustrated, but that’s no excuse. i let my emotions get the better of me, and i took it out on you. that was wrong.”

your silence was heavy, but he pushed through. “the truth is, i don’t want to lose you. i love you, and the thought of not being with you terrifies me. that’s probably why i lashed out... because i’m scared of how much i need you.”

tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away. “you can’t just say things like that and expect me to forget, sunghoon.”

“i know,” he said quickly, stepping closer but not crossing the threshold. “i’m not asking you to forget. i’m asking for a chance to make things right. to prove to you that i didn’t mean it and that i’ll do better.”

after a long pause, you sighed. “this isn’t going to be easy.”

sunghoon nodded earnestly. “i don’t care how hard it is. you’re worth it.”

su ➷ noo

sunoo sat curled up on his couch, replaying the argument in his mind. “you’re always so difficult!” he’d snapped, immediately regretting it when he saw the hurt on your face. now, he felt like the worst person alive.

he picked up his phone, staring at your contact for what felt like hours before deciding to face you in person. armed with a small box of your favorite sweets, he knocked on your door, his heart pounding.

when you opened the door, your expression was unreadable, but you stepped aside to let him in.

“i know i’m probably the last person you want to see right now,” sunoo started, his voice soft. “but i couldn’t just let things end like that.”

you crossed your arms, waiting for him to continue.

“i said something awful earlier, and i’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you’re not difficult. you’re amazing, and i was just being a jerk.”

“why would you say that, then?” you asked, your tone sharp.

“because i was frustrated and didn’t know how to express myself properly,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “but that’s on me, not you. you deserve someone who lifts you up, not tears you down.”

you softened slightly, but the hurt was still evident. “words have consequences, sunoo.”

“i know,” he said, stepping closer cautiously. “and i’ll spend as long as it takes to prove to you that i’m sorry. you mean too much to me to let my stupid mistake ruin what we have.”

jung ➷ won

jungwon sat in silence, the weight of his earlier words crushing him. “i don’t even know why i put up with this,” he’d said in a rare moment of anger. now, the memory of your shocked expression made him feel sick.

he couldn’t let this fester. he grabbed his jacket and headed to your place, rehearsing what he’d say but knowing it wouldn’t be enough. when you opened the door, he offered a small, hesitant smile.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you hesitated before letting him in, crossing your arms as you faced him.

“i messed up,” jungwon began, his voice shaky. “what i said earlier... i didn’t mean any of it. i was angry and lashed out, and that’s not okay.”

“do you even realize how much that hurt, jungwon?” you asked, your voice cracking slightly.

his heart broke at the sight of your tears. “i do,” he said earnestly. “and i hate myself for it. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and i let my emotions get the better of me. i’ll never forgive myself for making you feel like this.”

you looked away, but he stepped closer, his voice soft. “i can’t change what i said, but i’ll do everything in my power to show you how much you mean to me. please, just give me a chance to make it right.”

ni ➷ ki

ni-ki paced his room, the argument playing in his mind like a broken record. he’d snapped in anger, immediately regretting it when he saw your hurt expression. now, the regret felt like a physical weight on his chest.

he grabbed his phone, typing and deleting a dozen messages before deciding to face you in person. when he knocked on your door, his heart raced as he heard footsteps approaching.

“ni-ki,” you said, your tone cold as you opened the door.

“please, just let me explain,” he said quickly, his eyes pleading.

you hesitated before stepping aside, letting him in.

“i said something horrible earlier, and i hate that i hurt you,” ni-ki began, his voice trembling. “i didn’t mean it — not even for a second. i was frustrated, and instead of talking it out, i lashed out.”

you crossed your arms, your expression guarded. “do you even realize how much that hurt?”

“i do,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “and i hate myself for making you feel like that. you mean so much to me, and i let my emotions get the better of me. that’s on me, not you.”

he stepped closer, his voice filled with sincerity. “i’ll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you. just please... don’t give up on us.” your silence was heavy, but ni-ki’s gaze never wavered. “i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “and i’ll prove it to you every day if you let me.”

notes: aww, poor boys... do you forgive them? or more suffering next week?

[tetsuissohot]

☆summary. an argument leads to a sloppy and wet apology.  

☆warning/tags: 18+, fem!reader, angst to smut, curse words, tittie sucking, fingering, penetration, ends with fluff, mention of cum, unprotected sex 

☆word count: 2.8k

☆a/n: please note that English is not my first language, and I am also dyslexic, so there may be some mistakes. However, I do my best to minimize them.

please support your creators! Reblogs and comments are really appreciated!

Shut Up, Darling.

It wasn’t typical for you and Kento to argue. In truth, he wasn’t home much anyway—most days you barely managed a quick "Good morning" before he left, so there wasn’t even time to pick a fight. But today—today your patience finally snapped. Like every other day, Kento had left for work before you woke up, and by the time he got home, you’d already eaten dinner and were lying in bed. He hadn’t even bothered to respond to your texts, where you simply asked if he was okay.  

That silence hurt. After all, he was your boyfriend of years, and yet he felt distant, like a stranger. You felt ignored and neglected. The pain of it all, especially coming from him, stung deeply. When you did talk to him, it was like speaking to a machine, one that repeated the same, emotionless phrases—"I’m sorry," "It’s my job," "You’re right." Yet nothing ever changed.  

“Why are you still awake, sweetie?” Kento asked as he stepped into the bedroom. His blonde hair was disheveled, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. He lingered by the door, looking at you with mild curiosity—you were usually asleep by now.  

You set the novel you’d been reading down on the nightstand and glanced up at him. “I was waiting for you.”  

Kento raised an eyebrow, still standing by the door. “Waiting for me? You should’ve gone to sleep. I told you I’d be late again.”  

You sighed, sitting up in bed, your patience already thin. “That’s the thing, Kento. You’re always late. Every day, you leave before I wake up and come back when I’m already asleep. I don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore.”  

He ran a hand through his messy hair, a small frown forming. “You know it’s work. We’ve talked about this.”   

“Yeah, we have,” you shot back, voice sharper than you intended. “But talking doesn’t change anything. I feel like I don’t even exist to you anymore. You don’t answer my texts, you don’t check in—it's like you’re a ghost in your own home.”  

Kento's gaze dropped, his hands slipping into his pockets as he stepped further into the room. “That’s not fair. I’m doing everything I can for us. My job—”  

“Your job,” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling over, “isn't an excuse to completely shut me out. I’m not just some background noise you can tune out when it’s convenient. I’m your girlfriend, Kento. We’re supposed to be a team, and I feel like I’m in this alone.”  

He exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation. “You know I love you. I’m sorry, I just... I don’t know how to balance it all.”  

“You always say that,” you muttered, fighting to keep your voice steady. “But nothing ever changes. What are we even doing if we don’t make time for each other?”  

There was a long pause, the room heavy with unspoken words. Kento’s jaw tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low but firm. “I don’t know what you want me to say. This is how things are right now. I’m doing the best I can.”  

You looked at him, your heart aching. “I don’t need perfect, Kento. I just need you. And lately, it feels like I’ve lost you.”  

Kento’s face hardened, his calm demeanor cracking as he stepped further into the room. "What exactly do you want from me?" he snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "I’m breaking my back out there every day for us, and all you do is sit here and complain about how I’m not around enough!"  

Your heart pounded in your chest, anger bubbling up. “Complain? Complain? You don’t get it, do you? I’m not asking for much—just for you to act like you care, to show me that I still matter!”  

His eyes narrowed. "You matter? You think I’m out there working insane hours because you don’t matter? This is what I’m talking about—you’re never satisfied!" His voice was sharper than you’d ever heard, each word like a blade. “I can’t be everything for you when I’m doing everything for you!”  

You stood up from the bed, your hands trembling as your voice broke. "And I didn’t ask you to do all of this at the cost of our relationship, Kento! I’m tired of feeling like I’m talking to a wall, like you’ve already checked out of us!"  

"Jesus Christ," Kento muttered under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "Can you just—" He suddenly stepped forward, his presence towering over you. His voice dropped, cold and cutting, he raised his hand and aggressively, but not in a hurtful way, he squeezed your cheeks. "Just shut your fucking mouth."  

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you froze, stunned by his outburst. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you in one swift movement, pulling your face with his hand and crashing his lips against yours in an aggressive, forceful kiss.  

His hand left your cheek, now both hands are sliding behind your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, deepening the kiss. There was a desperate edge to the way held you, like he was trying to communicate something he couldn't put into words. His lips were demanding, a raw intensity that stole your breath.   

At first, you were too shocked to respond, but the heat between you grew undeniable, igniting something primal in the pit of your stomach. Slowly, your body responded on its own - your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the tension beneath your fingertips. His kiss softened, shifting from anger to something more fervent, almost pleading. You could feel his heart pounding, his breath shaky as if he'd lost control for a moment and didn't know how to find it again.  

Your lips moved together now with more rhythm, the urgency still there but tempered by something deeper, more vulnerable. His thumb brushed over your jaw; a surprisingly gentle touch that made your knees feel weak.   

You leaned into him, letting the kiss consume you both, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you. The world seemed to blur around you as the kiss deepened, his body pressing against yours, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.   

The anger that had been in his kiss moments ago was now replaced with something else desire, maybe. Or perhaps even an apology, though no words were spoken. Finally, when you both broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours. The tension between you crackled in the air, but the anger had dissipated, leaving something raw and real behind. You could still taste the kiss on your lips, the weight of his emotions lingering in the space between you.  

Your heart raced, torn between anger and the raw intensity of his touch. He finally spoke, his breath hot against your face as his eyes bore into yours. “Kindly, shut up, darling,” he whispered, his voice laced with both anger and something deeper, something almost desperate.  

He didn’t wait for you to speak – he just told you to shut up after all; his hands grabbed your hips, and they traveled under your pajama pants, his fingers digging into your skin.  He guided your body closer to the bed – his breath was unsteady, just like yours “Shit-” he groaned in a low husky voice. He pushed you down on the bed, your body slightly jumping from the bounciness of the mattress – you gasp, you were mad at him, but your pussy apparently wasn’t, your clit was already on fire with just one fierce full kiss, and the girl wanted more than just a kiss, shit – you could already feel your heart beating in between your legs.   

Kento didn’t waste time and got on top of you, his knees trapping you beneath him, his hands next to your head, before he got closer, he looked you up and down – God, you looked so good in your pajamas. He leans down, his hot breath hitting your neck, one of his hands leaves the spot next to your head and moves under your shirt, traveling up and down your stomach; his lips meet your body again, and he leaves soft wet kisses in your neck as he hums. They’re low sexy hums, the sound of his voice almost makes your ears orgasm if they could. “Kento...” you softly huff his name.   

“Shh, darling,” he says against your neck, his breath tickling your skin, your body shivers and you can feel your panties slowly getting soaked. He kisses your neck again “I’m sorry sweetie-” he whispers in between the wet kisses. The hand on your stomach travels further up, and he takes hold of your boob and squeezes it, your nipple grinds in the middle of his fingers, and you gasp - “I didn't mean to be rude to you, I’m just tired.” he says before kissing your temple. The sound of your gasp and your heavy breathing, the feeling of your boob under his hand and your hard nipple between his fingers makes something inside of him grow – and in his pants too.   

He pulls away and once again, takes a good look at you, his gaze is full of hunger and desire, his right hand, the one that wasn’t touching your boob, leaves the side of your head and pulls your shirt up to your neck, exposing your naked torso and your hard nipples. His gaze drops from your face to the hand squeezing your tit, his other hand now traces the side of your stomach, and his fingertips gently brush your skin – it tickles, and you can't help but contract your body at his touch and let soft sounds escape your lips.   

“Let me show you how much I care, sweetheart," without a warning he gets closer and takes one of your nipples to his mouth – as instinct your hands that were grasping on the bed clothing, now grab the hair in the back of his head pulling him closer – he groans, the sound is muffled.  

He nibbles your hard nipple, his tongue contours the firm tip leaving a trail of saliva all over your breast, the hand on your stomach takes hold of your other tit, and he squeezes it and holds it firmly – you have to bite back a moan. He starts sucking on your nipple like his life depended on it. The only sounds in the room were his muffled groans, your soft moans, and the wet sound his mouth was making – the sound of the friction of his mouth sucking your peak was music to your ears. But he couldn’t leave your other boob untended, so he went from one to the other, a line of saliva following from one nipple to the other.  

While he starts working on your boob, one of his hands slides under your pants, and his finger teases your wet pussy through the fabric of your soaked undies. “Let me apologize to you~” he whispers. Your breath catches and before you know it his hand slides under your panties, his fingertips start playing around with your wetness, and they slide between your folds, your labia hugs his fingers “Sweetie you’re so wet, I didn’t mean to make your cute little cunt cry with my harsh words” he muttered, his hot breath against your areola.   

You bite your lower lip as you suck up the moan you were about to let go, your fingers interwinding with his hair even more.  

His middle finger starts sliding up and down your pussy, adding more sound to already wet noises coming from his mouth and tongue on your tits. After teasing you enough, he slowly slides his finger inside you as his thumb caresses your clit in soft circles “Oh, Kento~” he chuckled at your little moan as his tongue played with your nipple, his teeth brushing against it.   

The tent in his pants was big and tight, so tight that the zipper on his pants is screaming for help – he keeps his focus on you, on the way your vagina feels around his finger and how your wet clitoris contracted under his thumb, he presses the finger harder against you, in response, you squeeze your legs at his touch and trap his hand in between your thighs. He chuckles again and pulls away from you. Your legs loosen again.   

He makes eye contact as he pulls your pants down. The sight of you like that drives him insane, a small smile forms at the corner of his lips, and he takes a deep breath as he starts to unbutton and unzip his pants – his gaze never leaves your eyes, even when he pulls his cock out. His cock is so hard that slaps his stomach. Your eyes travel to his member – God, you really want his fat dick inside of you more than anything.   

Nanami holds his big balls with one hand and strokes his thick length with the other, the precum helps his strokes become smoother “Shit-” the word escapes his lips. He lets go of his members and gets down so he can kiss your neck again.   

“Can I fuck you? Let me fuck you, sweetheart. Please let me fuck you, baby.” he pleads as he gently bites your earlobe. “Please... let me show how sorry I am.” his tongue licks your ear in and out.  

“Please... fuck me, Kento” you beg. He doesn't waste any time in positioning himself between your legs, he pulls your thighs closer to him, the way he grabbed them was aggressive and a little painful – you like that. He strokes his dick again and slaps it on your wet panties, teasing you through the fabric. In other circumstances he would’ve taken his time with teasing you like that – sliding his tip up and down your soggy underwear, grinding you before he finally gets inside of you. But, right now, he didn’t have time, so with his wet fingers he slid your panties to the side and slowly made his way in. “You’re so tight and wet, sweetie. Fuck-” he groans.   

He places his hands next to your head and starts slowly thrusting you, his balls hitting you in the process and making a sloppy noise.   

Your hands move to his back, gripping the fabric of his blue button-up shirt. Your moans start coming out louder and with more frequency. The way his cock fills you up makes you ecstatic.   

His thrusts become faster, harder. “I’m so sorry sweetie.” he gulps and buries his face on your neck again, taking in your scent. “You were right- your pretty kitty feels so good, baby” he bites your neck.   

With each thrust you cry out a moan against his shoulder, with each thrust the loose ends of his jacket brush against your belly, with each thrust he kisses your neck or bites it, with each thrust he groans near your ear and his hot breath sends shivers down your spine, with each thrust his balls slap your skin, with each thrust your pussy get tighter around his fat big cock, with each thrust his movements become sloppier, the wet sounds louder – your back arched, your body grinding against his, the fire on your clit burning, the electricity in your body growing and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.  

“Do you forgive me?” he asks, his voice a low growl against your soft skin.  

“Yes- I forgive you, Kento” you cry out, and finally, your whole body shakes underneath him, at the same time all of your four senses come out more alive than ever you also lose them. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart” he apologizes, because he’s not stopping even if you're too sensitive.   

When your orgasm is over your body is so sensitive that his touch hurts. But soon enough he fills you up with his cum “Oh- that’s it, sweetheart, take every drop of my cum” he growls loudly. His thrusts become slower until he finally stops and, still inside you he collapses on top of you. The moans suddenly stop and the only sounds are your heavy breathing.   

“I love you so much, sweetie” he mutters.  

As you start to play with his hair you mumble “I love you too”   

“God... I missed you so much – I missed this so much”   

You sigh “Me too”  

Gently he pulls away and sits up in front of you, his dick leaving your cunt.   

He looks down at your pussy and watches his cum dripping down your pussy. With his fingers he starts pulling the hot liquid back inside of you – you gasp again.   

“Kento....”  

“Shh, this is my apology gift for you. Now take it, darling.” 

This was my first time writing smut like this! So please bear with me!!! Tips are accepted!

Masterlist

[caitified]

Can you do a Caitlin fic where reader plays on another team like UConn or another one you like and it’s them dating but they are playing each other then they meet up after the game

jersey

caitlin clark x reader

added my own twist to this, hope that’s okay. warnings:none except for final four trauma for my uconn girls 🥹🫂

it all started back in high school, when you and caitlin met at usa basketball camp for the u17 team. you were teammates for that summer, instantly clicked on and off the court, and since then, it’s been you two—despite the distance, despite the fact that you went to uconn and she went to iowa. it wasn’t easy, but somehow, you made it work. calls after practice, text messages throughout the day, weekend trips whenever you could squeeze them in. it wasn’t ideal, but it was worth it.

then came the final four. the buzz around iowa and uconn facing off was huge, and everyone knew the game would be intense. you tried not to let the pressure get to you, especially knowing caitlin was on the other side of the court. but when it came down to it, iowa won. they deserved it—caitlin had an incredible game, but still, the loss stung deeply.

after the game, you couldn’t bring yourself to text or call her. it wasn’t anger or resentment, just a feeling of emptiness and a need for space. she sent a few messages, checking in, apologizing even though she had no reason to. you read every one but couldn’t find the words to respond. the silence stretched on for days, and you knew she was probably wondering what you were thinking. you felt guilty but couldn’t bring yourself to explain; you needed to process it alone.

as the national championship game between iowa and south carolina approached, something inside you shifted. this wasn’t about rivalry or a game anymore—this was about her. you missed her, missed the ease and comfort you always felt together, and if she was going to play the biggest game of her life, you wanted to be there for her, no matter what had happened in the final four.

the next day, you found yourself sitting with her family, a sea of black and gold around you, and caitlin’s jersey resting over your shoulders. her mom welcomed you warmly, squeezing your hand, and her dad even offered you a bit of comfort in his own quiet way. they knew you were hurting too, but they also saw how much you cared for her.

when the teams ran out onto the court, caitlin’s gaze swept over the stands. it took a second for her to spot you, but when she did, her expression softened, and you could see the relief in her eyes. she smiled, the kind of smile that felt like the sun breaking through the clouds, and you knew she understood what it meant for you to be there.

the game was intense, a back-and-forth battle, and in the final moments, south carolina clinched the win. you watched as caitlin tried to hold it together, accepting hugs from her teammates, but you could see the heartbreak in her eyes. as soon as she was able, she made her way over to the stands. she moved past everyone until she reached you, pulling you down from the bleachers into a tight hug, her shoulders trembling slightly.

“i thought maybe you didn’t want to be here,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“no, i wanted to be right here. i’m always here, cait,” you murmured, holding her close. “i’m so proud of you, no matter what.”

[s-lverwing]

I’m so happy to read your Caracalla fanfics omg?? So yummy and good!!

I haven’t seen the movie yet (it’s been spoiled for me already tho- rip) and long message ahead yikes I’m sorry (not a request either!!)

Food for thought.. but I need to see Caracalla and a soft wife- (this is soooo anti his character) but I live for the ‘asshole to everyone.. except my WIFE’ trope and I feel like he would be like that to reader (because i said so lol)

Need to see soft spoken reader with loud, angry, dark, jealous, possessive Caracalla, I just need a man to be angrily in love with me at this point lmaoooo

Anyways pls share your thoughts if you’d like because I need to YAP about him- more people need to YAP about him !!

Hi!!! thank you for your kind words 💗 im glad youre happy to read what i wrote <3. and don’t worry about the yappin !! i LOVE to yap too. its a bit long the text so that why im adding a read more 😭😭😭

i dont think it would be too ooc for caracalla to have a soft wife. i think it actually can make so much sense when you think about how deeply fractured and emotionally starved he was. like in the movie he is violent, chaotic, and most likely consumed by his disease. but beneath all that, I KNOW he craves softness, someone who sees past his rage and bloodlust, someone who can offer him something what he’s never had: unconditional kindness (even if he doesn’t deserves it lmao)

i want to add that i can totally imagine him viewing her as a gift lmao, something the gods granted in a rare moment of mercy. which would make his possessive and obsessive behaviour worse. his “love” would be intense, protective, and dangerously devoted, but also strangely tender in a way only she gets to see.

i think caracalla’s jealousy would be volatile, loud, destructive, and entirely uncontrollable. like his possessiveness wouldn’t just came from a place of “love” but from a deep-seated fear of losing her. and if geta is involved, it would be even worse. like he wouldn’t have boundaries in his rage (lol does he ever has boundaries?). he even could hurt his wife, not out of intention ofc, but because he’s too far gone (like we see in the movie and the script with that geta scene).

BUT the second he realizes what he’s done, though, he’d be utterly shattered, falling apart in a way only she would EVER see. crying, begging, trembling—just very pathetic, in desperation. he’d fall to his knees without shame, pressing his face against her stomach or thighs, clinging to her like a drowning man. like almost panicking. words would come in a frantic, broken torrent with half apologies, half declarations of obsession. because he doesn’t know how to apologize, ofc.

i feel like he would know that his wife is both his greatest weakness and his only salvation.

sorry for the YAPPING snnfnckdkw i just love how pathetic he is after he lashes out 🥺

[allebasimaianunes]

"the boxer" ✴︎ drew starkey

one-short | fluffy & semi-smut

sumary: Drew is the model of a rising artist. He is not only her muse, but also her most passionate lover of her works.

autor's note: so, i saw this twitter here and i got kind of obsessed with the whole concept. i have this painting engraved in my mind, so i decided to write a little text with the scene that came to my mind, really quickly. it's not a big deal :) the painting is "the boxer" by russian painter kostantin andreevich somov (1869-1939).

warning contend: it's quite romantic to be honest. there's a hint of sex at the end, but i wanted to keep it light, erotic, and sentimental! english isn't my first language, so i apologize for the mistakes. oh, and here the reader is in the third person, with no description of physical characteristics. enjoy the reading! <3

word count: 1.795 words

language: eng.

soundtrank inspo: give you my love, mazzy star

“Please, be quiet.”

She asked with one of the brushes between her teeth, watching him intently. The blonde man, with tanned skin and a defined body, chuckled, amused by the painter's impatience, adjusting his position once again. It was exhausting to pose nude for hours on end, in the same exact pose, unable to move a single muscle so as not to disturb the meticulous painting the woman was creating.

Drew sighed, extending one of his hands forward as his gaze landed on the artist.

She was adding yellow paint to the details outlining the curves of his body. The room they were in was both her little bedroom, her studio, and her kitchen – a small cubicle painted in a sandy yellow, with a few rustic wooden furniture pieces she scavenged from shops here and there. The bed was nothing more than a single mattress on the floor, and her wardrobe consisted of large, square trunks typically used for train travel. Books on human anatomy were scattered alongside Walter Benjamin, Gramsci, Virginia Woolf, and Jean-Paul Sartre – books he devoured during idle moments. And there was an overwhelming amount of painting supplies – truly impressive. Paint tubes stacked in crates she collected from the market, brushes drying on the balcony, blank canvases leaning against the walls.

She spent more on art supplies than on food.

The man’s blue eyes fixed on the woman’s face: beautiful, angular, like a unique work of art. She looked exceptionally stunning when she was deeply focused on painting. In a swift motion, she removed the brush from between her teeth and used it to add the final blend to the painted face. She smiled, stepping back with measured steps from the canvas, placing her hands on her hips, satisfied with the result. Drew grew curious, wanting to leave his pose but knowing he had to stay still until she gave him instructions.

“This one is beautiful. Wow, I can’t believe I painted it!”

“If only I could look at it and give my opinion…” the man said sarcastically, glancing at her with pleading eyes, desperate to move. She rolled her eyes and nodded, signaling him to come see the result of five hours of posing. Naturally comfortable in his nude form, the man walked to the easel holding the canvas, briefly glancing at the window and noticing the sun setting on the horizon, casting warm orange and red hues across the sky.

He positioned himself behind the woman, his height making it easy to see the portrait. His eyes filled with pride and an overwhelming emotion as he saw himself depicted on the canvas. The way she captured the details of his relaxed expression, the movement in the outstretched hand, the defined body exposed in golden tones – it touched him deeply. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he felt an odd urge to cry.

“Wow… This is perfect! You’re incredible.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked hesitantly, looking at him over her shoulder. The man moved closer, placing his hands on her tense shoulders, whispering, “I’m sure that when we sell this painting, buyers and curators will climax with excitement.”

“Drew…” she laughed, turning to face him, her eyes sparkling with joy at his praise. Smiling, he cupped her face tenderly, resting his forehead against hers. “I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: you’re the best artist in this city! Actually, in the entire world!”

“Stop, you’re going to make me vain!”

“And rightfully so!” he retorted, both laughing. With gentle fingers, he tucked strands of her hair behind her ears, his gaze turning soft, studying every little detail of her.

He felt love consuming his chest like flames, recalling the moment she first approached him dressed in a suit and tie – several sizes too big for her – with a beret to hold her hair back, pretending to be a male gambler at his underground fights. She casually asked if he would accept a job in exchange for money. Of course, he agreed, assuming it would be some intimate encounter or collecting a debt with violence. When they arrived at her small sixth-floor apartment, he was surprised by its simplicity and the casual way she revealed herself to him.

His heart raced as she removed the beret, letting her long hair fall, and took off the blazer and trousers, leaving her in an oversized dress shirt. She lit a cigarette from her silver case, walked across the room to grab a canvas, and set up the easel near a chair facing the open balcony door. She gestured toward the chair. Still puzzled, he walked over, feeling self-conscious about his sweat, the bruises on his brow, and the cut on his lower lip-yet more so about his naïveté for not suspecting the stranger was, in fact, a woman.

While setting up to paint, it was Drew who broke the silence, his voice curious. “Why did you pretend to be a man? Wouldn’t it have been easier to approach me as… yourself?”

She glanced at him from behind the canvas, the cigarette dangling from her lips. “I wanted a fighter. And there are a lot of ignorant men in those places… I’ve always wanted to walk into a room full of men dressed as one of them, approach someone, and bring them back to my place to paint them. So I combined business with pleasure, and here you are.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, crossing his legs, intrigued by this strange, half-naked woman in front of him. “And you’re not afraid? Especially dressed like that in front of me… I’m a fighter. I’m strong,” she stepped out from behind the canvas-not backing away but moving closer to him. Her eyes locked with his as she finished his thought: “I could overpower you. Or something like that.”

“No. I’m not afraid of you, and you wouldn’t overpower me,” she said defiantly, smiling. Drew frowned, studying her intently as she pulled a pair of oval-framed glasses from his shirt pocket, placing them on his face. She crouched to pick up a book by the chair and handed it to him. “I watched you for weeks, considering you as my potential model, and I couldn’t help but notice how fake you are!” she laughed, lighting another cigarette.

Drew’s face twisted in offense. “Excuse me!? I don’t even know you, and you’re calling me out like this!? Who do you think you are? I swear, I’ll walk out and tell the first person I see that you’re insane-” He began to rise, but she casually extended a cigarette toward him.

Her gaze was calm and confident. That nonchalant, informal act caught him off guard. It disarmed him. Accepting the cigarette, he allowed her soft voice to explain: “Don’t be offended or mad. I did what anyone desperate for a chance in this world full of jerks would do: I took unconventional measures to make my mark. I needed a model with your features, someone unique and unknown. That way, if I could convince you to be my model, I could pose as you to sell my work. Because, ever since I left my studies, I’ve had zero validation as a woman artist. You get it?”

Drew took a drag, his eyes fixed on hers. Thoughts swirled in his mind – it was an unexpected proposal. After a decade of his mediocre life as a boxer, competing in small matches for meager earnings with blood, sweat, and pain, her offer lit a spark in his mind. Intrigued, he asked, “So, how would this work… you pretending to be me?”

She smiled, satisfied – a smile he would come to know intimately over the months that followed, as they sealed their deal with a handshake, a gaze filled with mutual ambition, and cigarettes smoked into the evening as she sketched a new canvas.

Their partnership flourished. She had the talent, and he had the image coveted by curators and collectors. While she worked from the shadows, he basked in the spotlight.

Their inevitable closeness culminated in a private celebration after a major sale – a stunning bust of Drew with his torso exposed and a vacant, majestic expression. That night, in her cramped apartment, amid whiskey and wine, their bodies intertwined, the lines between them blurred, and passion erupted in a tangle of sweat and ecstasy.

Drew was hopelessly in love with her, and he wanted her to know. Yet, he hadn’t found the right words – until that sublime moment, gazing at the portrait of himself as he turned to her and whispered: “I’m losing my mind over you, woman!”

“Oh, my God…” she said, surprised, her paint-stained hands holding his. He didn’t mind—in fact, he felt her touch was akin to being painted into her masterpieces. Drew smiled sincerely, kissing her tenderly.

The kiss was returned with a sublime tenderness and love. Their bodies moved through the room in a dance, his firm hands guiding her to the mattress, gently pushing her onto it. Standing over her in his unashamed nudity, bathed in the warm glow of the sunset, her gaze shifted with a mix of carnal desire and passion. She whispered, “Darling, you truly are a masterpiece. My masterpiece.”

Drew’s smile brimmed with passion as he lay over her, planting kisses full of emotion. Through their intimacy, he felt her unspoken love, her hands painting his body with her touch, just as she would a canvas. Drew smiled passionately, lying on top of her and distributing kisses full of feelings, feeling in her mouth the words of love and passion that she did not say to him verbally, feeling in the way she slid her hands over his body as she drew it, exploring her body like a picture critic captures every detail in a painting. Eyes, nose, lips, neck, chest, breasts, abdomen, mons pubis, thighs. Returning to between her legs, the wet and sensitive intimacy. The moans mixing with the noise of the city outside, the pleading whispers, the peak that made her shiver. With his breathing so heavy, almost unable to contain himself, losing himself in her was a delirium in itself. Penetrating as if he could dye her soul with himself, the man crossed his hands before cumming, dragging out a deep, lazy “I love you.”, full of honey and golden colors in her ear.

As night fell, cloaking the drying canvas on the balcony in an indigo veil, they lay entwined on the mattress, bodies glistening and breaths heavy. Drew smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her beautiful face and murmured, “If I’m your masterpiece, then let me be eternally etched in your eyes. My creator.”

He leaned in, sealing the words I love you onto her soul with a kiss.

[akimoroll]

nightfall.

yoichi nagumo x fem reader—wc 2.2k—part of a series on ao3—college/uni au. fwb. fluff/smut. mdni.

n/a: if you’re an art student reading this, i apologize!! i know nothing about art school (cries) /// this feels like a filler episode tbh kinda boring and uneventful to me at least lmao so sorry in advance

[←prev] | [next→]

Tutoring sessions with Nagumo are over and you haven't seen him for over two weeks because of exams. He messaged you a few times during evenings for the first few days but other than that, it was complete utter silence from him. You have gotten used to his presence and it did bother you how quiet he has been. But you weren’t the type to text first, you didn’t even like texting at all. He was being distant so you thought, maybe this was his way of showing push.

Meanwhile, Nagumo was busy staying up in the late hours of the night meeting deadlines, and dealing with the weighty pressure and vulnerability of critiques. But other than that, he was pretty much holed up in his room with a dark cloud of stress over his head. He might have even lost a bit of weight too.

“Do you wanna go see a movie with me after midterms?” He asked you last time you saw each other, to which you said yes. Now that exams are over, he hasn’t made contact yet, not that you were eagerly waiting for his message or anything… Of course not. That’s silly, right?

But you do miss him… Maybe a little bit. “Just his face,” you mused, downplaying whatever it was you were feeling.

As you unlocked your phone, you pursed your lips and went to Instagram. You tried searching for his name (and nickname) but couldn’t find anything. As frustration built up, you turned to your roommate who had just entered the room and asked for her help.

His username had 9 underscores as if he didn’t want to be found. But weirdly enough, for a normal college dude, slash frat boy, slash art student that posted normal college stuff, he had a lot of followers. The accounts he followed were mostly girls, but one stood out—a private account with no display photo. 1 follower, 1 following and hundreds of posts.

Who could that be? You were curious for a hot minute but saw a really cute selfie of him and spent a good chunk of time staring at it. Before you knew it, you had burned the next hours making folders and meticulously sorting the pictures you’ve saved, just as you would with your trading cards collection.

///

The gentle knocking from the door startled you from your sleep. The room was already bright and your roommate had left. Glancing at the bright screen of your phone, you winced before getting up. It’s 9 past 7.

As soon as you opened the door, Nagumo rushed in without a word and immediately began kissing you. He was unusually quiet, almost eerily so, while his hands slipped under your shirt and roamed the skin of your back. You couldn’t say a word with the way he was practically eating your face. He seemed much like a man who had been walking for hours in the scorching heat, chasing you like a tall glass of cold water. He was parched.

He led you to your corner of the room and onto your bed. His body hovering over yours, lips not letting you go. Moments later, you were already naked under him. His hands explored places he hadn’t touched before, his tongue teased the most sensitive spots, turning you into a soaked mess.

He kissed you deeply before letting you go, only to flip you on your stomach with ease. The hairs on the skin of your back raised when his lips grazed your nape, gently trailing their way down your spine. Then he slowly inserted a finger and a few moments later, he added another. His fingers knuckles deep inside you.

There was nothing but the sound of your quiet whimpers and the wet sounds of his kisses as he began preparing you for something else, something that might be too much, something you have found yourself anticipating for. You couldn’t help but moan his name.

“Yoichi…”

Hearing this, he paused, leaving you so hot and bothered. As you waited for what’s to come next, you felt movement behind you and heard fabric rustling—he’s slipping out of his boxers.

He began rubbing his tip to your wet folds as he spread your cheeks wide open, smearing and mixing his and your wetness all over, with his fingers digging the flesh of your ass. Everything was happening way too fast. It felt conflicting but you knew deep down you didn’t want him to stop.

Softly, tenderly, he pushed himself in and out of you. He’s fucking you slowly with your name rolling so sweetly on his tongue like honey—again and again and again.

“Look at you… such a good girl.” He cooed, his voice airy with his lips over your ear. His warmth reached the skin of your back, enveloping you as he rested his whole body on top of you with your face buried in the pillow.

“Lift your hips a little...”

“There you go. Just like that.”

“Fuck…you feel so good.”

And he feels so good too. He kept murmuring your name as he fucks you lazily, your eyes rolling back every time he pushes himself balls deep into you. He was making a mess out of you, your juices dripping down on your clean sheets. Suddenly you didn’t care about getting your bed dirty anymore.

One of his hands began snaking towards your tits, giving it a soft squeeze before lifting your face by the jaw, his two fingers coaxing your lips to open.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered before slowly turning your head so you could face him. You kept your eyes closed as you reluctantly opened your mouth, his tattooed fingers forcing you to taste yourself, “See how good you taste?”

“Open your eyes…look at me.” he murmured, giving each of your eyes a cute kiss before reaching down with his other hand, rubbing slow circles on your clit, just enough pressure to make you squirm under him.

Him seeing you so fucked out and breathless so early in the morning made him fuck you a little faster. And then a little harder. Your whimpery sobs became louder as he continued to thrust himself into you from the back.

“You close? You’re squeezing me.”

“I know you missed me. Let’s take our time, hm?”

“Come on, open your eyes.”

“Look at me.”

“Wake up.”

Wake up?

Your eyes shot up, realizing you had fallen asleep while waiting for him at a diner near campus. You agreed to have brunch together when he finally called in the morning.

That’s what you get when you stay up way too late looking at his pictures. But none of that matters now. Bewildered, you mused, “Wet dreams? Here? Of all places?”

“Falling asleep in public is so unlike you. Are you okay?” He smirked, voice laced with teasing as he sat across from you.

You exhaled deeply as you hid your flushed face with your hands. You couldn’t dare to look at him.

He tilted his head to the side, now with concern, he asked, “Looks like you stayed up late last night. I thought exams were over?”

“Yes, it is over,” you responded immediately. With your voice still raspy, you snapped at him, “I fell asleep because…I waited too long.”

He scoffed lightheartedly before leaning closer to you with a smug grin on his face, “Someone’s excited to see me. I’m not even late.”

You looked at him after checking the time. Frowning from grogginess, you asked nicely, “Can you go ahead and order us food? I can’t form a single thought.”

He looked at you for a moment and noticed how your forehead was glistening with your face all red, he asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get takeout and eat someplace else if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine, Nagumo. Please, just order the food.”

///

You continued eating your meal in complete silence, embarrassment still lingering in your mind. Nagumo, on the other hand, kept glancing at you with concern. Eventually, he asked, “So… Friday, movies, right? Unless you have something else in mind?”

“What? I’m not thinking about anything else,” you retorted after a slight flinch.

He responded with a puzzled expression, trying to figure out your mood, “Okay…? I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Sure,” you replied way too quickly, voice low as you kept your eyes to your food.

He watched you, observing and wondering why you were being quiet and wouldn’t meet his gaze. You typically spoke too little and had a habit of staring. But you were acting strange, almost defensive, like you were hiding something. Reminiscent of that time when you had a misunderstanding, moments before he kissed you for the first time.

“Hey, be a good girl and quit picking at your food,” He teased, attempting to lift the mood and ease you into talking more.

But “good girl” was all you heard. You abruptly locked eyes as you involuntarily inhaled your food, getting it stuck in your throat. He quickly handed you a drink, worry evident on his face while you uncontrollably coughed.

After chugging the drink to its final drop and slamming the glass on the table with more force than necessary, you inhaled deeply and finally spoke, “Never say that again.”

He narrowed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips, he asked, “Not say what?”

“That. What you just said.”

“Not…pick at your food?”

“No,” you groaned, opening your mouth just to close it again as your cheeks started to heat up once more. You collected yourself as you continued, “Nevermind.”

He caught your reaction right away. The small smile he was holding turned into a full blown grin, he teased, “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” you retorted with a defensive hiss.

“Nothing,” he breathed deeply and shifted his gaze out the glass window, pausing before speaking again, “You got me worried there. But it looks like your other personality has come out to play today and taught me something new.”

“If you don’t stop bringing that up, I’ll leave right now,” You exclaimed as you reached for your bag.

He snickered and stood up, sliding his food next to yours and took a seat beside you to block you from leaving. He gently nudged his arm against yours, “Oh come on, we just got here.”

You answered him with a mere eye roll and turned away from him to gaze out the window.

“Hey,” He ran his fingers through your hair, twirling at the tips, his voice gentle, “Look at me.”

You quickly turned to his direction to warn him time and time again to stop touching you unexpectedly. However, his lips touched your cheek, making you blush once again. He smirked, enjoying how endearing you are and wanting to continue stirring your flustered state, he whispered, “I missed you.”

You took a deep breath, struggling to suppress the smile that threatened to come out as you spoke up, your voice softer than intended, “Nagumo, I told you not to touch me so suddenly.”

He nodded and continued eating as if nothing happened. Out of curiosity, he asked, “Why were you up so late last night anyway? Thought you have schedules and stuff.”

As you calmed down, you answered honestly, “I was feeling restless.”

He chuckled, “Bet you were thinking of me.”

Your bluntness continued as you went back to eating as well, “Yes, but also, no. I was actually wondering why there are so many underscores in your username. It seems quite inefficient for typing. Also, the topless pics, seriously? Have some decorum. And while we are on the subject of decorum, apart from your friends, you only follow people from the opposite sex. What’s up with that?”

Like always, he was surprised and slightly taken aback by your honesty but the thought of you stalking his socials made him nearly choke on his food. You had always been distant, didn’t ask questions about himself, he was the one constantly reaching out. He had gotten used to you not paying much attention to him, just hanging out with you was enough for him. So hearing everything and you being so blunt about it, made him feel things.

He teased with an accusatory tone, “Oh, so you were stalking me. You could’ve just messaged me and told me you miss me, you know?”

You retorted, “Why would I? That’s exactly what you want me to do.”

He pressed further, grinning, “So you did miss me.”

“I didn’t say that,” you stubbornly denied, your voice sounding firm.

“Why were you looking me up then?” He inquired, his tone laced with intrigue.

You pondered for a good while, carefully choosing the right words before responding, “You need to know your opponent in order to defeat them, correct?”

He smirked, a hint of challenge in his voice as he rested his cheek on his palm, observing you, “This is all just a game to you, hm?”

You mirrored him, speaking calmly, “I could say the same about you.”

He nodded, suppressing a chuckle by smiling, “Well played, but you’re not supposed to show your hand to me.”

You smiled back, “What makes you think I’ve shown you everything?”

[repulsiveliquidation]

Cookies and Cuddles

Leah Williamson x Reader [SMUT! little bit.]

little PSA at the end! i don't know what this is it just...happened.

“She’s left me on read again, Gee.”

“Maybe she’s just busy, Leah. She’ll be okay.”

Leah nods, putting her phone away in her back pocket. She focuses back on her food, eating her lunch distractedly. It was way past your regular weekend lie-in; you hadn’t even given her a call the night before. You had been distant for days, ever since you didn’t get that England call-up you thought you were.

Being out from injury was the worst; you had recently been cleared to play full games. England call-up was your first chance at being back, but you didn’t see your name on the roster the week before. Leah’s name was there; she felt sad she couldn’t attend her first call-up since her injury with you.

Leah was distracted the whole day, missing passes and being sloppy. Sarina called her to the side, a stern look on her face.

“I’ve called you up here because I knew you were ready. I was wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Sarina, it’s just,” she sighs, rubbing her hand down her face. “Y/N has been off lately, and I’m worried about her.”

“Off how?”

“She hasn’t been responding to my texts. I haven’t heard from her the past two days; no more than 5 minutes.”

“You want to know why I didn’t put her name on the roster?”

Leah puts her guard up, ready to defend her girlfriend.

“Why?” she asks with slightly gritted teeth. Sarina replies unfazed.

“I knew she was more than football ready; her head isn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Leah growls, ears steaming as she tries to keep her cool.

“She was the best striker on the list for me to pick. But I had a suspicion that her head wasn’t quite ready for it yet. You’ve proven my point.”

“Are you saying–” Leah began angrily.

“What I’m saying is I didn’t want to make things worse for her. She needs some time to get her head on straight. Football isn’t the solution right now. You are. Go home to her, make sure she’s okay. I expect you at training tomorrow afternoon, Captain. Bring her along.”

Leah looks a little shocked, nodding softly at Sarina before sprinting out of the training center. She grabs her stuff haphazardly, shoving it all into her kitbag before running out to her car.

She races home, barging into the house noisily. She calls for you, the entire house engulfed in darkness. You had all the curtains pulled, the bathroom light letting in a sliver of light. She slowly trudged up the stairs, heart pounding in her chest as she called out for you again. She feared the worst, wiping her sweaty forehead.

She knew about your history of depression; she knew that stress often caused it to get pretty bad. With your recovery from injury and the prospect of an England call-up, paired with being you was often something that you both knew would be a rough time for you.

She slowly pushed the bedroom door open, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw your sleeping form on her side of the bed. It made her heart clench that you missed her but couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. She sat on the bed, you jolted awake when she did.  

The moment you saw her you scrambled out of bed and into her arms. You sobbed painfully, Leah’s arms tight and warm around you. She sighed and pulled you closer, cradling the back of your head as her other hand rubbed your back.

“Oh Leah, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby; you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden, it was your first camp back from injury I didn’t want you to be distracted,” you mumble into her neck, she’s quick to shut you down.

“You are not a burden, baby. You are my priority. I will drop everything for you, my love. Everything.”

“You don’t have to, not for me,” she presses her finger to your lips, her eyes soften and she cups your face.

“I want to, only for you,” Leah tells you, standing up with you in her arms. She sets you down gently, cupping your face and kissing you deeply. You kiss back, hands gripping her wrists tight. She kisses you with so much emotion, lips saying more than words ever could.

You’re crying, hot tears flowing down your cheeks. She pulls away and wipes your tears, kissing your forehead softly.

Her hands slowly travel lower and lower, grasping the bottom of her hoodie you had on. She pecked your lips when you looked down at her hands, smiling softly.

“Can I?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” you reply, lifting your arms obediently for her.

She pulls the sweater off, gasping softly at your worn-out body. She can see the outline of your ribs a little, collarbones more prominent than when she last kissed them. She tears up herself, biting her cheek to keep herself composed.

“How long baby?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, wanting so badly to be honest with her. You take a while to answer, she doesn’t push you. Her hands softly caress your skin, tracing gently with affection.

“Since they let me on the first time.” That was 5 weeks ago. You were subbed on for the last 5 minutes of a game, adrenaline high for the first time in a while. When it came crashing down, so did the irrational thoughts. Your head became louder than your heart, and insecurities that had been festering inside you made their grand appearance.

You had done well to mask it, directing others into thinking that I was just the stress of being back as something that you needed to get used to again. Leah was kicking herself; she didn’t even see her girlfriend struggling until she had made it obvious.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was getting bad then?” she asked next, hands pulling your sweats down your legs gently. She kissed back up your thigh, standing in front of you with a look of concern.

“You were thriving Leah, I couldn’t ruin that for you.”

She kisses you again, this time her tears make the kiss salty. She pulls away and pulls you in for a hug, she begs for your forgiveness; the forgiveness you tell her she doesn’t need to ask for.

She kisses up your neck, gently moving you to the bed. You lay back down for her, watching her slowly take her clothes off. You sigh, scooting into the middle of the bed waiting for her.

She climbs in and immediately snuggles under the covers, pulling you close to her chest. Your ear settles right over her heart, listening to the strong pounding that eventually matches yours. Her naked form is warm, her legs tangled intimately with yours. Her hands caress your back and arms soothingly, lips pressing soft and tender kisses to your head and temple.

"I love you," she whispers, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"I love you too, Lee." you answer, kissing her jaw.

She begins to tell you all about camp, your hand softly rubbing her side and toned stomach. Her soft voice lulls you back to sleep, she sighs and keeps caressing every bit of skin she can get her hands on.

“I’ve got you, princess. Always have, always will.”

//

You both wake up the next day around 10, feeling the most refreshed and rejuvenated in a while. Leah immediately tilts your head up and demands kisses, you can only shake your head at her and lean up to give her a few pecks. She pouts, cheekily asking for more.

“Leah, my teeth aren’t brushed,” you reason, chin resting on her chest as you look up at her.

“So? Mine aren’t either. I want a kiss, then you may do whatever you’d like.”

“Just one.”

“Can’t guarantee but, yes. At least.”

You lean up and kiss her, sucking in her bottom lip before pulling away and sprinting into the bathroom. She wasn’t far behind, managing to get the door before you slammed it closed. She smiled, creeping up on you like a stalking dog. She traps you by the sinks, arms on either side of you.

“Kiss me,” she demands again, grabbing your arms.

You shake your head, sucking in your lips.

“Kiss. Me.” She orders, pressing her lips to yours. You melt when her calloused hands pull your waist closer, kissing her back softly. She grins into the kiss, hiking you up onto the counter. She’s kissing down your chest, when you notice the time.

“Leah, don’t you have training today?” you ask, slightly out of breath when she takes your breast into her mouth. She pulls away with a soft pop.

“Yes, you’re coming with. Bosses’ orders.”

“We can’t–” you start, as her lips trail lower and lower on your body, “we have to leave in a while!”

“I’ll be quick,” she gruffs, picking you up off the counter and pointing to the shower.

“Get in, save time,” she nudges you in, following you and turning on the water. Her hands are on you immediately, pressing your ass back into her front. You moan softly, having missed her familiar touches.

She grasped your breast from behind, the other hand cupping your heat as her fingers fondled your rapidly soaking folds. You gasped, arm reaching back to cradle her head that tucked itself into your neck. She sucked on your skin hard, fingers already sinking into your wet hole.

“Got to be quick baby, I can’t be late,” she teased, two fingers pumping furiously into your hole. You cried out for her, the steaming hot shower engulfing the both of you.

“Lee-Leah!”

“Missed me, did you doll?”

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

Her fingers nudge in a third, thumb rapidly rubbing on your clit.

“God, you’re so fucking wet for me hm?”

“Only for you, Leah!” Your orgasm was fast approaching, her fingers pressed up against your spot made your head spin. She continued.

“Yeah, you’re gonna cum for me aren’t ya? Gonna make a fuckin’ mess for me baby girl? Good thing we’re in the shower, it’ll wash away all the evidence of you being such a fucking whore for me…”

When she called you a whore, your entire body shook with your strong orgasm. She talked and petted you through it, cooing affectionately into your ear as her fingers slowly slid out of your pussy. She was quick to shove them into her mouth before the water cleaned them for her.

“Secret’s safe with me, doll,” she winks at you, grabbing your shampoo as you stand there more in love with the woman than you were before.  

//

i'm going to be taking a break for a bit, with exams and a bit of traveling coming up i won't have time to upload as often as i normally do. i've realized that i've put pressure on myself to post every other day or so and i can't commit to that for a bit. i will answer asks and stuff so i'm always up for a chat!

[catiroll]

Back again, Piltover girl* ੈ✩‧₊˚ Sevika

Pairing: Sevika x desperate fem Reader

Summary: broken trust and lingering feelings have to be dealt with eventually.

Previous chapter

Word count: 2.5k

Warning: alil arguing in the beginning but yall make up by the end.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚You couldn’t let it end like this. At first, you clung to hope, reaching out through every possible way —texts, voice messages, even an email, a method you’d never imagined using with Sevika. Desperation had become your shadow, and it bled into every word you typed.

-Hey, vika. Can we talk? Please, just let me explain…

Read 6:49 PM

The message sent, the seconds ticking by like hours as you stared at the screen, willing her to respond. She didn’t.

-I know you’re angry, and I don’t blame you, but I need you to know the truth…

Read 2:01 PM

Each day a new message but still nothing. You typed and retyped every word, trying to make her see your sincerity. The silence felt heavier, like a weight pressing on your chest.

-I’m sorry. For everything. For not telling you sooner. Please, just hear me out.

Read 9:33 AM

Apologies spilled from your heart, but the silence on the other end remained deafening. A knot tightened in your stomach as you realized she was deliberately ignoring you



-Hey , I know things ended for a reason, but I miss you and still care about you deeply.

Sent 4:59 PM

It hit you like a physical blow—hard and unforgiving. Sevika had blocked you. She hadn’t just distanced herself; she had cut you off completely, slamming the door so firmly that no amount of knocking could force it open.

The realization stole the air from your lungs, leaving a hollow ache in its place. She wasn’t just angry—she wanted you gone. The woman who once filled your nights with warmth, whose voice had been your sanctuary, was now unreachable, leaving only silence and the echoes of what you’d lost.

You weren’t one to give up easily, especially not with someone like her. A week later, fate intervened. You saw her by chance outside The Last Drop, the dim neon sign casting an eerie glow over her as she stepped into the street, the crowd parting around her intimidating figure. She looked rough—her left arm bruised, knuckles raw, her movements stiff as though every step sent a jolt of pain through her body. Her face bore the hardened, unapproachable look of someone who’d been through hell and refused to admit it.

But you couldn’t just watch her fade into the shadows. Not again.

“Sevika!” you called out, your voice cutting through the murmur of Zaun’s streets. You jogged after her as she quickened her pace, shoulders hunched in a futile attempt to disappear. “Wait, please! Let me help you!”

She stopped so suddenly that you nearly ran into her. When she turned to face you, her imposing presence felt suffocating, the dim light catching the sharp angles of her jaw and the storm brewing in her eyes. Even injured, she radiated strength, but it was the kind laced with danger.

“Help me?” she repeated, her words low and laced with venom. “You’ve done enough.”

You faltered under her glare but forced yourself to stand your ground. “I’m not here to fight,” you said, your voice trembling but steady enough. “I’m worried about you. Look at yourself, Sevika. You’re hurt.”

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and hollow. “Worried?” she said, the corner of her mouth curling in a mocking smirk. “I’ve handled worse, sweetheart. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“It’s not pity,” you pressed, stepping closer despite her retreat. “It’s... care. Why can’t you see that?”

Her eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening until the muscle twitched. For a brief, fleeting moment, you thought she might relent, that she might let the wall crumble. But her expression hardened again, colder than before.

“Care?” she repeated, her voice rising, sharp and accusing. “You care about me? Is that why you lied? Why you pretended to be something you’re not?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Save it,” she snapped, cutting you off like a blade slicing through air. She took a step back, shaking her head as if to clear away whatever doubts had momentarily surfaced. “Go back to Piltover. It’s where you belong.”

Her words landed like blows, each syllable chipping away at the resolve you’d built to face her. You opened your mouth to protest, but the lump in your throat stopped you. Before you could find the words, she turned on her heel and strode into the darkness, her figure quickly swallowed by Zaun’s twisting alleys.

You stood there, the faint hum of flickering streetlights the only sound, the ache in your chest growing with every second she disappeared from view. Frustration warred with heartbreak, and you were left rooted to the spot, wondering if there was anything you could have said to change her mind—or if you’d already lost her for good.

Sevika’s mind was a battlefield that night, each thought clashing violently against the next. She barricaded herself in her dimly lit apartment, the air heavy with the smell of smoke and stale whiskey. She clutched the nearly-empty bottle, the burn in her throat barely a distraction from the turmoil inside her. The argument replayed on an endless loop, your words echoing louder with each pass.

“Let me help you.”

“It’s… care.”

“Why can’t you see that?”

She scoffed at the memory, tipping the bottle to her lips. Care. That look in your eyes—raw, genuine—refused to leave her alone. Why did you care? Why couldn’t she shake the way it made her feel, equal parts furious and exposed?

You had lied. For months, you had kept secrets, building something she thought was real on a foundation of half-truths. And yet… you cared. The contradiction gnawed at her, each sip of whiskey doing little to dull its bite.

By the time the bottle was drained, Sevika was pacing her cramped apartment, the floorboards creaking under her heavy boots. Her jaw tightened as her thoughts spiraled, landing on someone she never imagined she’d willingly seek out for advice. Jinx.

She found the manic powder monkey perched on a railing at Sevika’s hideout, balancing with unnerving ease as though gravity was optional.

“So, lemme get this straight,” Jinx began, twirling a stray strand of blue hair around her finger. “You love her, but you’re mad ‘cause she’s from Piltover, and now you don’t know if you wanna forgive her?”

Sevika ran a hand down her face, her metal fingers clicking against her skin as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not that simple, Jinx. She lied to me. She hid it for months. What else could she be hiding?”

Jinx flipped off the railing with a laugh, landing in a crouch before standing to her full height. Her grin was wide, toothy, and entirely unhelpful. “Sounds like you’re overthinking it. Look, if you love her, you love her. Doesn’t matter if she’s from Piltover or the freaking moon. Look at Cait and Vi. They’ve got all kinds of reasons to hate each other, but they don’t let it stop ‘em. ‘Cause love, Sev, is messy and stupid and worth it.”

Sevika’s brow furrowed, her arms crossing defensively. “Messy and stupid,” she muttered, her tone dripping with skepticism. “You don’t get it, Jinx. She was pretending to be someone she’s not. How am I supposed to trust her again?”

Jinx tilted her head, her grin fading just enough for a glimmer of sincerity to shine through. “You don’t trust her yet. Fine. But does she make you feel alive? Does she make you wanna fight harder, even when you’re ready to give up?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and Sevika hated how much they resonated. She didn’t answer, but her silence was enough for Jinx.

“Thought so.” Jinx twirled her gun absentmindedly, her grin snapping back into place. “Look, I’m not sayin’ it’s easy. But sitting here sulking? That’s not you, Sev. Go fix your mess before you’re stuck staring at walls and bottles forever.”

Sevika shook her head, half-exasperated, half-contemplative. “Since when did you become a romantic?”

Jinx winked, her wild energy back in full force. “I’m full of surprises. Now go!”

As Jinx bounded off into the darkness, Sevika stood rooted to the spot, her thoughts no longer a whirlwind but a razor-sharp conviction cutting through the fog. She wasn’t one to run from a fight, and this wasn’t any different. But could she fight for something she wasn’t sure she still deserved?

Her fists clenched at her sides, the faint ache in her bruised knuckles grounding her. She didn’t have the answer yet, but for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t drowning in doubt.

Maybe Jinx was right. Maybe love really was messy, stupid, and worth every damn risk.

The next day, you woke to a single notification: Sevika had unblocked you. And there was a message.

-Meet me at The Last Drop. We need to talk.

Read 9:48 PM

Your breath hitched, the words igniting a whirlwind of emotions—hope, fear, and dread all at once. As the day passed, the weight of the message settled deeper in your chest. By the time you started getting dressed that evening, your hands were trembling.

Your mind raced as you stood in front of the mirror, fumbling with buttons. What would she say? Would she hear you out? What if this was just to end things for good? Each thought seemed to constrict your chest further, your breathing shallow and erratic.

Get a grip, you told yourself, gripping the edge of the sink. You focused on the cool porcelain beneath your fingers, counting your breaths until the pressure in your chest eased. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to get you out the door.

When you arrived at The Last Drop, the air inside was thick with smoke and the hum of distant conversation. Sevika sat at a corner table, her broad frame half-shadowed under the flickering neon lights. She didn’t look up immediately, her posture guarded but lacking its usual sharp edge.

You swallowed hard and made your way over, sliding into the seat across from her. Your nerves buzzed, but you forced yourself to meet her eyes.

“Thanks for coming,” she said gruffly, her tone neutral, though her fingers toyed with the rim of her glass—a small tell of unease.

“Of course,” you replied, your voice thin but steady. “I’m just… glad you’re giving me a chance to explain.”

Her gaze snapped to yours then, sharp and unyielding. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice low but edged with steel. “That you were from Piltover?”

The weight of her words pressed against your chest. You drew in a shaky breath, your fingers curling against the edge of the table. “Because I was scared,” you admitted. “I knew how you felt about people from the upper city, and I didn’t want to lose you before we even had a chance. I… I didn’t think you’d understand.”

Her eyes narrowed, frustration flickering across her face. “So, what? You thought lying was the better option?”

“No,” you said quickly, your voice cracking slightly. “I know it wasn’t. I should’ve told you the truth. But Sevika… you mean so much to me, and I was terrified you’d walk away if you knew. I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, the silence stretched unbearably. Then she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “You think I haven’t had people lie to me before? Hide things? It’s a damn pattern in my life.”

Her words stung, but you didn’t back down. “I know,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “And I hate that I added to that. I didn’t want to hurt you, Sevika. I thought I was protecting what we had, but I see now I just made it worse.”

Her gaze softened, just a fraction. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not about Piltover,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “Hell, I’ve got plenty of reasons to hate that place, but this isn’t about that. It’s about trust. And you broke it.”

You nodded, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. “I know. But I want to earn it back. If you’ll let me.”

Another tense silence lingered, but as it stretched, Sevika’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly. She uncrossed her arms, leaning forward ever so slightly. “You really think this is gonna be easy?”

“No,” you said firmly, meeting her gaze. “I don’t. But you’re worth it.”

Her lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to fill you with a cautious hope. Slowly, as the conversation continued, the space between you began to shrink—first figuratively, then literally.

Sevika’s chair inched closer, and she leaned her elbows on the table, her gaze less guarded. The edge in her voice softened as the two of you navigated the minefield of emotions. By the time she let out a quiet laugh—at what, you couldn’t even remember—the tension had melted into something warmer, more familiar.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she looked at you, her expression softer than you’d seen in weeks. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy,” she said, her voice low, “but if you’re willing to stick it out… maybe we can try again.”

Your chest tightened with relief, a smile breaking across your face. “I want that. More than anything.”

For the first time, Sevika smiled—a small, hesitant curve of her lips that held more weight than words ever could.

“Don’t make me regret this,” she said, leaning closer, her voice almost a whisper.

“I won’t,” you promised.

And as she closed the remaining distance, brushing her lips against yours, the world seemed to still. The kiss was tentative at first, a delicate testing of boundaries, but it quickly deepened, filled with unspoken forgiveness and the promise of a new beginning.

When she pulled back, her smirk returned, this time full of her familiar confidence. “You’re lucky I’m a sucker for stubborn people.”

You laughed, the sound light and free for the first time in weeks. “And you’re lucky I’m stubborn enough to stick around.”

The future was uncertain, but as you sat there with Sevika, closer than you’d been in weeks, you knew it was a fight worth having.

WOOOOO WAR IS OVER. I set up my inbox so PLEASEEEEEEEE send me requests or anything’s atp hope u liked it mwah.

Unofficial taglist: @lizziecanrailme @lovemoneybtw @seggskink @jukka08 @sagegreensage @jannesyjane @gracie-gloom @mall-fountain-daydream @theirlaliengirl

[daydreamerbunny]

Star-Crossed and History-Lost

Aegon II Targaryen x sister!female reader, hints of Aemond Targaryen x sister!female reader as well

Genre: Smut (pwp)

Summary: You adore your brother, Aegon, while married and growing resentful to your other brother Aegon. You reminisce on your moments with Aegon while you care for him after being burned and plan on his escape.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: targ incest, infedility and pregnancy (brother and sister)

Author's Note: Please do not engage with this fan fic if you cannot read the warnings above. I felt inclined to write this. It may be very all over the place, so apologies for that. There also may be some grammatical errors as well. Lots of dialogue at one point so...bear with me on that. I want to write more for this character very soon!

You weren’t sure what or if Aegon could hear, but you read to him. You smile to yourself as you did. Maybe reading about the Doom of Valyria to your crippled brother was not the best of materials, but it’s how you know to comfort him. It’s how your mother spent time with you. You look up from the texts at Aegon. He is melted and crippled, but how you would kill to see him smile again. You prayed until your mind was buzzing with nothing but Aegon. Praying that the Seven will spare Aegon from the Stranger for now and heal him from his ailments. Praying that Sunfyre is not dead.

The doors to the king’s bed chambers opened and your husband struts in, his facial expression not moving as he observes you at Aegon’s side. “Wife.” Aemond greets. 

“Husband.” You greeted shortly back and did not meet his gaze for much longer, shutting the large book and placing it on the nightstand. “Have you come to check on our dear brother?” You asked. 

Aemond approached you slowly while still looking at Aegon. You stand between Aemond and Aegon on the bed, watching your husband drag his fingers against the blankets. You take a moment to look at his face. To others Aemond can be hard to predict and read, but for you it was like looking through glass. His face is a face that is frozen in time. The moment he was born the second son. The moment he lost his eye. These moments still walk with him wherever he goes. 

There was a time where you deeply admired Aemond. He held himself with grace and he was patient. He was a reserved, but kind lover.  The two of you were content with being together. Then Storm’s Rest happened and you cannot look at your husband the same. He is now a kinslayer. It’s bad enough already, but he will not share his guilt and you resent him for it. Aemond knows this and his pride will not let him tend to your marriage. The only thing he managed to tend to was fulfilling his duty of giving you children, which your first born is still forming in your belly. 

As your resentment grew for Aemond you spent more time with Aegon. Alicent did not approve of how much time you spent with him as she thought you to be so proper, or maybe a reflection of herself, and she did not want Aegon ruining you. Your affection towards Aegon has always existed since you were a child, but Aegon and Helaena were betrothed and you shoved any hope of marrying him aside.  It was clear you were going to have to marry Aemond.  A duty the two of you were happy to fulfill, but now all it is is duty. 

“Someone will need to rule in his stead.” Aemond stared at Aegon and his condition, his face unchanged. 

“And I imagine you intend to plead your case to the council that it should be you.” You stated. 

“And who do you think it should be, dear wife?” He turned his gaze to you. You knew he wasn’t actually asking you. 

You bite your lip and feel your eyes start to water. “Do you even care about your family, Aemond?” You place your hand on your stomach as the tears fall down your cheeks. 

Aemond places a hand on yours and leans closer to you, “everything I do is for this family.” 

You hold his gaze and lower your voice. “Did you burn him?” 

Aemond gulps and pulls away, “the King fought well. Now, I believe you need some rest. This pregnancy has been rough on your mind, dear sister.” He turns to walk out the door. 

“I’ll never forgive you.” Your voice shook, but it was strong. 

“I can live with that.” Aemond said curtly as the doors shut behind him. 

A sob escapes your throat. You hate the person Aemond has become. You’re married to a kinslayer and a possible attempted kingslayer. You are pregnant with his child. You hold your swollen stomach as you sit down back in your chair next to the bed. Aemond used to dance with you and drop off flowers in your chamber, but now he courts his books, his swords, his dragon, and his revenge. 

“Aegon, you cannot leave me with him.” You sniffle and wipe your tears with your handkerchief. 

“Sis…ter.” Aegon croaked out, but his eyes stayed shut. 

“Oh, thank the Gods.” You smile and stand, leaning over to look at his face. “I’m here. Do you need anything? Oh! Let me get mother and the maester.” You excitedly say and run as fast as you can out of the room. 

“Sis…ter.”

It was your name day and your mood was sour.  Your father had died and your husband had killed your little nephew shortly after.  Aegon was crowned king, which converted Alicent to the Dowager Queen.  Your grandsire insisted that they still have a name day celebration for you.  Otto favored you greatly.  You were smart and dutiful.  Besides him favoring you he also thought it was wise to show the kingdom that the crown is not shaken by Rhaenyra and by what Aemond has done.

It was a beautiful day.  The sun hung high above the gardens of the Red Keep.  Music played gracefully as lords and ladies chatting with a glass of wine in hand.  You stayed close to the food table and nursed many lemon bars.  The food cravings you were having were rather intense and lemon has been on your mind.  “Mmm.” A small hum of contentment escaped your lips.

“Hiding away from the attention, are we now sister?” Aegon appeared at your side with a grin on his face.

“Is it obvious?” You ask as you wipe some crumbs from my lips.  “I did not expect you here.” You said.

Aegon almost looked offended.  “It is your name day, sweet sister.” He spotted a pitcher of wine and poured himself a glass.  “Of course I’d be here.” He smiles at you.

It made your heart pound.  “Well, Your Grace, will you do me the honor of keeping me company?” You ask with a soft smile.

Aegon took a swig of his wine and grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles softly.  “Happy to oblige.” He offered you his arm.

You rest your arm in his and follow his lead.  Aegon has the two of you hug the outside of the crowd.  It was enough to get noticed, but not approached.  Aegon and you made your way to the gazebo and you sat down, looking up at him as he leaned against the structure with his wine still glued to his hand. There was a moment of silence between the two of you.

“How have you been feeling?” Aegon gestured to your stomach while he asked.

“It’s a mix of feeling ill while also being hungry all the time.” You sigh.  “If I eat and indulge too much, it just comes right back up.”

“That sounds horrible.” He sips his wine and scratches his head.

“It is most definitely not pleasant.” You giggle a little and nod. “I’ve missed you, Aegon.”

Aegon smiles softly and places his cup down, walking over to stand over you.  “I’ve been busy adjusting to being the king.” He held out his hands and wiggled his fingers, coaxing you to hold his hands. You can still hear the music and the chatter of feast goers.  You look out of the gazebo before grabbing your brother’s hands and standing, following him to the middle of the gazebo.  “Can you handle a dance, sister?” He asks.

You grin and line yourself up with him, arms out to mimic the wings of a dragon.  “Can you handle not stepping on my feet?” You jest.

Aegon shook his head and smiled, the dance started.  Not only the physical dance but also the one in your heart.  The nausea squashed down as your eyes locked and your skirts twirled.  Aegon only danced with you.  The one person who could convince him to place his wine down and stop brooding from the dinner table.  The last person he danced with was Helaena at his own wedding and that was when he was still a young boy.  There was something about you.  It was probably how you were such a dutiful, sweet person.  You were there to wipe the sweat off his brow and to dab the tears off his cheeks after his mother’s verbal or physical lashings.  There was that, but you were also fun.  You snuck into your siblings rooms to go dragon riding in the dead of the night.  It was mostly just Aegon who would agree.  It truly was a shame that you were born after Helaena.

Aegon had many chances to whisk you away and take your maidenhood.  It would have been very easy to make you his mistress, but Aegon held you in a higher regard.  You were not a maid who cleaned his linen or a whore in the Streets of Silk.  You were a princess and his sister, although it was not like you were not trying and it did end up working.  It was not too long ago either.  Aegon cut eye contact with you and his eyes trailed down to your stomach.  You were not showing yet.

“How long ago was it that we rode to the lake on dragonback?”  Aegon asked and reconnected the magnet that was your eye contact.

You knew what he was asking or insinuating.  This was something that you wanted to keep to yourself.  You did not want to complicate either of your brother’s lives.  You were going to not question anything and raise this baby as Aemond being the father and which it could be.  Your wedding night did not fall too far behind the rendezvous at the lake.  You had hoped, just this once, that Aegon would stick to his cups and not even question this.  

Yet you could not lie to him.  “A little more than a month ago, I suppose.” You suddenly felt nauseous and took a deep breath, counting your steps.

“Is it mine?”

“I don’t know.” You answer back quickly.  “I believe it to be Aemond’s.” 

You step forward and then stop, holding your arms out again like a dragon.  Aegon moves behind you and places his back against yours, stretching out his arms to match yours.  He stared out into the gardens in the general direction where his mother and grandsire were entertaining guests.  His nose scrunched up in disgust.  Another thing that he could not have.  This is another area that his brother has bested him in, even though he stood there with the Conqueror's crown on his head.

Aegon turned and quickly turned you by your shoulders, cupping your cheeks and kissing you deeply.  A noise of surprise was quickly covered in the passion of the kiss.  It was like he was trying to swallow you whole.  For a moment, you kissed back.  Your hands placed on his chest to make sure you do not fall as his force leaned you backwards a little.  He took your breath away and sucked the oxygen out of your lungs.  You lightly pound on his chest and attempt to push him away.  Aegon pulls away from the kiss, but his grip on your face remains.  The two of you pant and stare into each other’s eyes.  

“Aegon, we must keep the little sanity that this family has left.” You say slowly, feeling as though you need to diffuse the bomb that is your lover.  

Aegon let you go and tilted his head up slightly, holding a finger up as he spoke.  “If there is ever such a moment where we can take Sunfyre and Fyredancer and fly so fucking far away…I will take it, dear sister.” He cups your cheek again with one hand and rubs away the tear now falling from your eye.  “I have never wanted for anything.  Not this damn crown or this upcoming war.  All I wanted was to be loved and wanted, and I only got that from you.”  He dropped his hand and retrieved his almost forgotten wine cup.  

“Our family would blame us…for so much.” You breathe out as you fantasize about the idea of running away from the keep, the faith, the war, and the attempted love that your mother gives you and your siblings.  

“History would not blame us in the long run.” Aegon takes a long gulp of his red wine and takes one final look at you.  “Enjoy your name day, sweet sister.”

“My sister..such a good soul, is she not, Maester Orwyle?” Aegon complimented you as take the glass of water from his lips and dab the liquid away from his mouth.

Maester Orwyle and you share a small smile, “she is a natural nurturer, Your Grace.  There is no doubt she will be a great mother.” He shared the compliment as he put his tools away.

Aegon’s leg was propped up as it was still on the mend from being broken.  His eye and skin have healed at a remarkable rate.  It was challenging, but yet rewarding to see someone bounce back from such conditions.  There was no word on Sunfyre’s conditions, but Aegon is convinced he is dead.  Ser Criston Cole swears Sunfyre is still alive, but in no condition to fly.  You try to reassure Aegon of this, but it’s no surprise that he is drowning in his self despair.  

You smile softly at the two men and nod, “the two of you are so kind.”  You rub your hand over the small bump forming in your dress.  “The next time we sit you up, Your Grace, we need to brush your hair.” 

“Ah, always doting on me.” Aegon reached his good hand out and you place your hand in his, “what would I do without you?” He asked.

Aegon was putting on a bit of a show for Maester Orwyle, but he still meant it.  “You honor me, my King.” You squeeze his fingers and reach up to pat his cheek.

The doors open and Lord Strong enters the room, the armor of clubbed foot hitting the floor.  You turn to dismiss the maester, but he is already on his way out of the door.  “May we have a word, Your Grace.” Lord Strong asked as he reached the end of the bed.

“My sister stays.” Aegon commanded as Larys looked at you.

“I was not going to protest, Your Grace, in fact I am glad she is here.” Larys nodded his head at you.

“Lord Larys, what do we owe the pleasure?” You ask as you stood at Aegon’s bedside and to which Aegon rolled his eyes.  It was so easy for you to channel your mother when you are being polite, but impatient.

“I must ask you, You Grace, to steel yourself.”  The lord started. “We must leave King’s Landing quickly and we will not return for some time.” 

“What?” Aegon and you asked, furrowing your brows.

“The pretender has found three new riders for her dragons.” He continued with his arms crossed.

Your eyes widened at your half-sister’s progress and looked at Aegon, “that’s impossible.” You breathe out.

“Your husband thought the same, princess.  He flew to challenge and was rebuffed.  Fled in terror from what I hear.” Larys looked down for a moment as he spoke and back up to Aegon.

You put your hand on your stomach and look out the balcony as if you were looking for Aemond.  “He deserves no less.”  Aegon drawled out after a weak attempt at a chuckle.

“Be that as it may be he has gone in fury to Sharp Point and laid waste to the whole of the town.” Larys continued as tears welled in your eyes. 

“Fucking mad cunt.” Aegon took a breath and said, “she really did it then.” 

“I fear so.” Larys nods.

Aegon looks down at himself with just his eyes and back up to Larys, “so, what was the fucking point in all of this then?” He asked.

“The Gods are cruel, but I hope you see the urgency–” Larys started.

Aegon shook his head and interrupted. “No…no.  I am the King, why must I run?”  You look back over to Aegon and wipe the tears threatening to fall away from your eyes.

“Because the Prince Regent is going to kill you.” Larys said confidently.  Aegon gulped and you snapped your head to Larys, shocked at his statement.  “You were in danger before, but now he is thwarted and he is angry.  There is no telling in what he will do, but we have an opportunity while he is away.”

“An opportunity to push him out.” You reply.

“Take me to my throne and once he returns I shall take him prisoner.” Aegon said and you nodded.

“And what then?  When Rhaenyra descends on you with her seven dragons and you without Vhagar, what then?” Larys asked and it made you return your hand to your stomach, reaching to your baby for comfort.

Aegon remains silent and Larys walks over, sitting on Aegon’s bed.  “With anticipation with little bumps in the road I have moved away Harrenhal’s gold reserves to the Iron Bank in Bravos.  We can live well and remain until what is coming has passed.” Larys looked at the two of you while he spoke.

Aegon began weakly chuckling at the proposition.  “You want to take my sister and I to Essos? To live with the goat fuckers?” He asked.

You put your hands on your temples.  This was blowing your mind that Larys is proposing this.  “Lord Strong, Aegon is in no condition to travel and I–” You pause.  There are many things you could say here.  You are pregnant.  You are married to Aemond.  You would break your mother’s heart, but you want this.  There is no tricking yourself here.  This is what Aegon spoke about on your name day.

“It’s best to live, I think.” Larys moved his head to make sure you were looking at him.  “However you do it.”

“Is it?” Aegon asks.  “My dragon is dead.  I am burnt and disgusting.” You shook your head as he continued. “ And alone and I’m a cripple.” You want to protest, but you let the men speak.

“You’re not alone.  You have your sister, who loves you very dearly–” Larys spoke.

“Yes, but my cock is destroyed. Did they tell you that?”  Aegon just kept talking and staring at Larys.  “It burst in the flames like a sausage on a spit.” You closed your eyes at his words and wished that the mental image would leave your brain.  “How am I supposed to make love to her now?  Even the very idea of running away with her is now ruined.  In my head, we would ride away on our dragons together and raise our own family.  No duty but to each other and our children.” 

“Do not despair, Your Grace.  Let your brother and the pretender destroy themselves in blood and in bitterness.  When they are spent we will return.  And the people will rise up to meet us.” Larys attempted to pull Aegon out of the spiral he was going down.

“I cannot even piss without it running down my leg.” Aegon says, looking off between the two of you.

“Aegon.” You interrupt and kneel down.  “This is probably what is best.  Aemond has no remorse for what he did and you know that.” You grab his hand that is resting on his stomach and squeeze it, making him look at you.

“They will tire of their endless deprivation and fear.  They will hail the returning king.  His father’s true heir.  Aegon the Victorious and Risen from the Ashes.  Aegon the Peacemaker.” Larys goes on to list various titles.

“Aegon the Realm’s Delight.” Aegon said as he looked away from you and started to stare off into the distance.  Imagining the people calling him what they called his older sister years ago.

“Princess, I rely on your help to make this plan happen.  Do you wish to do this in your condition?” Larys asked while nodding towards your stomach.

You gulp and nod, “I am not so much worried about myself, Lord Strong.  It is my brother I worry about.” You stand, but do not let go of Aegon’s hand.  “What of my dragon?” 

“She will need to stay here.” Larys said and continued, “do not worry, princess.  We will be coming back.”

“Sister, we will be free.” Aegon drew your attention back to him with a half smile on his face.

“At what cost?” You ask, but you smile back at him.  You lean down and kiss his forehead, not expecting him to answer your question.

Aegon smiled as you rushed past him on top of your dragon, Fyredancer.  Fyredancer was a quick and nimble dragon.  It was only a little smaller than Sunfyre as you took your dragon out a lot more than your other siblings did, aside from Vhagar.  She was a pale purple-gray with orange on the wings and she was as pretty as a sunset.  The two of you suited each other.  Aegon commanded Sunfyre to move faster and to catch up with the she-dragons.  It was the middle of the night and the only thing that lit the sky was its moon and stars.  Aegon flew behind you and watched you turn in your saddle to smile at him, nodding your head down towards the large lake below.  Aegon gestures outwards as if to say, “after you, sweet sister.”

Once landed Aegon follows you to the edge of the lake.  It was incredibly dark out, but his eyes have mostly adjusted to the darkness.  He watches you strip your riding gloves and toss them to the side on the ground.  Your eyes were focused on the water in front of you and your hair was braided back and down the length of your back.  Aegon stayed back for a moment to observe you before approaching you slowly, stopping behind you.

“Surely we did not sneak out of the Keep on dragonback just to stare at a lake, sister.” Aegon jested and pinched the fabric of his own gloves, shimmying them off his hands.

“You’re right.” You turn your head and point to the ground with your eyes.  “Sit with me? Please?”  You ask as you sit to the ground.  

Aegon rolls his eyes, but not at you.  He was rolling his eyes at the fact that he did not even hesitate to listen to you.  He tosses his gloves over to where your gloves had landed and sits next to you, leaning back on his hands.  He looked up at the sky and stared at the moon, observing that it was a full moon this evening.  This caused him to look at you and to his surprise, you were already looking at him.  Aegon’s eyes were now fully adjusted to the night.  Your violet eyes stared at him like he was a slice of cake.  It caused both Aegon’s heart and ego to swell.  “Well, I must be the most handsome lad you have ever seen to be staring at me like that.” He grinned at you.

You blushed and turned your head forward, cursing yourself silently.  You smile shyly and decide to play into Aegon’s banter.  “The moonlight suits you.” You compliment.

Aegon tilted his head and reached up to turn your chin haphazardly to look at him again.  Your eyes were so enticing.  They were wide in anticipation and your lips were parted, your chest rising up and down just a pace faster than normal.  His gaze softened and he reached over again, running the back of his hand down your cheek.  Your eyes fell closed at the touch and your own hand reached up, wrapping your fingers around his wrist.  You didn’t flinch nor push his touch away.  You welcomed it.  Aegon turned his hand to cup your cheek and leaned closer to you, his fingers dipping into your neat braided hair.  He moved as though you were made out of glass.

Aegon shifts to his knees and runs a hand down the length of your braid, finding the small string that kept the plait intake.  You watch as he unravels your long hair and sigh as his fingers run over your scalp, helping your hair fall into place.  Aegon was privy to the beauties of a woman, but this was someone who loved him.  His hand finds your chin again and his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, watching your eyes dilate at the action.  You mirror his actions and cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone.  Aegon closes his eyes for a moment and enjoys your touch, savoring the gentle touch of a woman he loved.  He opens his eyes slightly and moves both of his hands to your cheeks, swooping his head down to finally capture your lips in a kiss.

You welcome the kiss and fall back to lay flat on the grass, bringing him down with you.  Aegon naturally slipped himself between your legs and put one hand out next to your head to balance himself.  The kiss quickly turned heated as tongues were mixed in and small gasps of air, fueling the two of you’s desire to soar.  The hand that was on your cheek moved down to your throat and he held it there as his tongue danced with yours.  He tasted like the wine your family had for dinner.  After a moment of that Aegon pulled away and kissed your jaw then made his way down your neck.  Hot and wet kisses were left wherever he could reach.  A quiet moan escaped your throat as teeth were now thrown into the mix and your hands found his head, digging your fingers into the stark blonde hair.

“You love this don’t you?” Aegon asked hoarsely into your ear.  “Is this what you wanted when you snuck into my chambers and proposed a dragon ride, sweet sister?” He teased you.

“Yes.” You feel your body flush with white hot desire as he teased you. 

Aegon chuckled slowly and reached for the clasp of your waist belt, flicking it open and letting it fall off of you.  His nimble fingers then found the buttons of your riding coat and popped them out of their sockets.  Now that your dress was falling to your sides the two of you sat up and shoved the coat off of your body, leaving you in a simple tunic and your riding pants.  You take this moment to also unbutton Aegon’s royal garment and expose his tunic, pulling at the strings of this shirt.  Aegon smiles and strips off his tunic, quickly leaning down to kiss you again.  You smile against the kiss and run your smooth hands down his pale chest.  He hums into the kiss and places his hand on your hip, moving down the length of your leg.  He breaks the kiss and watches his hand meet the edge of your boot.

“I need to see all of you.” Aegon breathed out and yanked your boots off your feet, chucking them in different directions.

You giggled at his eagerness and decided to help him, lifting your tunic over your head.  Aegon licked his lips and curled his fingers around the fabric of your riding pants, yanking them down your hips.  All that was left were your undergarments and Aegon nearly groaned at the sight.  His hand met the middle of your chest and pushed you down, he lowered himself so that his head was level with your breasts.  He grabbed your left breast and leaned forward, gently licking your nipple.  You gasp at the sensation and bite your bottom lip, nodding as he looked up for confirmation that you liked it.

Aegon then committed his attention to your breasts.  Licking, sucking, biting and kissing.  A series of gasps and moans leave you as the heat in your stomach grows.  You lift your hips on occasion to seek out some friction and Aegon quickly takes notice, running his free hand down your stomach.  His fingers slip past your undergarments and carefully touch your clit, causing your hips to jolt in pleasure.  He knew this was your first time and so everything was going to be new to you.

Aegon pulled away from his attention on your nipples to ask, “is this okay?”

“N-No.” You gasp again as his fingers pressed against your clit. “I need more.” 

Aegon chuckles and shushes you, “do not worry, darling.  I’ll give you more.”  He moved upwards to kiss you again and then shifted his fingers downward so that they entered you.

Aegon swallowed the moan in your kiss and your legs opened more to welcome his fingers inside.  He strategically pumped his fingers in and out to create a slow, but delicious friction inside of you.  Your hand grasped his bicep as you struggled to keep up with the kiss because all of your brain could focus on is his fingers inside of you.  He smiled against your lips and moved back down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin by your shoulder.  Your fingers dug into his bicep as he curled his fingers upwards and hit a very sensitive spot causing you to cry out his name in pleasure.  He pulled away to watch your face with a dark, heated expression.

Aegon picked up his pace a tad and continued to hit that spot, causing your back to rise from the ground.  His jaw was slack as his face almost mocked your pleasure ridden face.  His own arousal was making itself very known against your leg and he was now having the worst time to not just take you now.  He wanted to see you come.  You felt a build up starting to form in your stomach and you opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze.  “Oh Aegon, I can feel it.” You moan.

“Do not deny me, darling.” Aegon nods as if he was giving you permission.  “Come for me.” 

Aegon persisted his pace, but did not speed up or slow down.  He watched your face twist up in pleasure and your legs locked themselves around him.  You almost want to run away from how good this felt and then all of the sudden a white hot flame erupted all over your body, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.  You pant heavily as your orgasm washes over you and your body falls slack, moaning softly as Aegon slows down his ministrations. He chuckled at how spent you seemed.

“Oh we are not done, sweet sister.  Do not forget about me.” Aegon sat up and shoved his trousers down his hips to expose his cock.

You lick your lips and shimmy your hips then open your legs again.  Aegon grins and wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you closer to him.  “You look so pretty and all for me.”  He lines himself up to your entrance and collects any wetness from your cunt.  Once he is certain he is lined up correctly he leans down and gently kisses your lips.  “Ready?” He asks.

“Please Aegon.” You beg.

Fuck, Aegon thought.  He pushes himself in and moans out softly as the warmth of your cunt swallows him.  You breathe out a moan when he is fully seated inside of you and lay your head back, letting your eyes roll to the back of your head.  This felt heavenly.  It was everything you dreamed about.  Aegon had a slight grin appear on his lips at the sight of you.  Oh this is so dangerous.  He might have to sneak into your chambers every night just to be able to sink his cock into your cunt and take his fill.  No matter if you were married to Aemond or not.

“Does this feel good? Hm?” Aegon asks in a breath and licks then nips at your neck.

“Fuck yes.” You whine as his hips pull away.

“That’s it.” Aegon grunts as he thrusts forward and sits up, gripping your waist as he moves inside of you. 

His pace quickened as your body adjusted to him.  Aegon’s grip on your waist was harsh, but his hips were calculated.  Every thrust turned your brain into mush.  His eyes trailed over your body as your breast bounced and your mouth was stuck in the ‘o’ shape.  Each drag of his cock inside of your walls was ecstasy and it was spurring you into another orgasm very soon.  Aegon reached down and wrapped his arms around you, rolling over into a new position.  You were seated in his lap and eagerly started to ride him, throwing your head back at the pleasure of the new angle. 

Aegon moaned loudly and grabbed the back of your head, smashing your lips together in a kiss.  It was messy and hot, tongue and teeth clashing.  The hard earth below gave you the perfect support to ride him intensely and Aegon almost did not believe that this was your first time.  He groaned into the kiss and curled his fingers into your long hair, yanking your head back.  He takes in the saliva dripping from your lips and your flushed skin, smiling at how he is ruining you.  He suddenly realized how close he was.

You were not far behind him.  You close your eyes as you focus on chasing your orgasm.  Aegon’s hands moved to your ass and gripped it harshly, moving your hips to help you ride him.  You look down and cup his cheeks, staring into his eyes.  You watch his face contorted in pleasure as he attempts to maintain eye contact.  It turned you on so much that you could make Aegon feel so good.  You cup his cheeks and cry out, letting him know you were going to come.

“Come on my cock.” Aegon was spiraling with desire which caused him to spank you and you yelp, “I’m going to come so deep inside of you.” He growls.

Your orgasm hits you like a brick and you grab onto Aegon’s shoulders, digging your nails into them.  You felt tears escaping your eyes and Aegon wrapped his arms around your chest, gripping onto you tightly.  You felt so held by him.  He lifted his hips as he spilled inside of you and his face fell into your bosom, weak kisses fell upon your sternum.  The both of you shake and hold onto each other as you come down from your high.   You kiss Aegon’s head and smooth down his hair.

“I love you.” You pant and kiss his head again.

Aegon nuzzled your chest and looked up at you, “do you really?” He asked.

“Wholeheartedly.” You smile exhaustedly.  

Aegon pulled you into another kiss and pushed your hair away from your face.  He pulled away and noticed that the sunrise had begun.  The water now shows reflections of orange and blue.  He looks over to your dragons who were curled up together and not bothered by what the two of you just did.  He looked back to you and once again, ran his knuckles on your cheek.  He was briefly sad because you were not his.  You were Aemond’s.  He chuckles though as you were the one still seated on his cock.

“What is so funny?” You ask in a whisper.

“Nothing, sweet sister.” Aegon shakes his head and lifts a finger to graze down your lips.  “We should head back, hm?” 

You sighed and looked over to your dragons, nodding.  “Perhaps so.”

You stare out of the carriage at King’s Landing.  A black cloak surrounded you and hid your blonde hair, braided so tightly so it would not peek out from underneath the hood.  You turn your head and see Aegon, covered in a similar cloak.  Your hand held your stomach as you looked over at him. Aegon met your gaze and he hated the way you were looking at him.  You looked at him like he was an injured stray cat.  He reached over to grip your chin lovingly and nodded.  That was all he could muster as he still had faint pain all over his body.  You smile weakly and look over at Larys, who returns a polite smile and then stares off into the distance.

You do not want anyone to die, but you knew it was not that simple.  A war was being waged within your family and within your walls.  You worry about your mother, Helaena, Aemond, and Aegon.  You worry about how you are going to manage this pregnancy on the road and hope that you are in Essos by the time you need to give birth.  You worry about your dragon, but pray that she understands that you will return to her.  You look at Aegon’s hand and reach over to grab it, intertwining fingers.  You wanted his reassurance.  All you got was a squeeze in return.  This journey was beyond the two of you.  Your love has nothing to do with this.  Your love will be lost in history, but it is what you know and what you will hold onto.

May the Gods guide us in this journey, you prayed. 

[gretavangroupie]

Bluebird Lane - Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Pining, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Touching.

A/N: Six months later... I am so sorry this took so long, and I promise the next chapter will be coming a lot sooner than this one did. Thanks for sticking it out with me! Also, a gigantic, massive thank you to @gretavanmoon and @builtbybrokenbells for endlessly encouraging me with this one and daydreaming with me. Thanks for reading!

JAKE POV

The sound of the neighbor's lawn mower wakes you from your sleep far earlier than you planned. You roll to your side, pushing your hair out of your face as you tap your sound machine to shut off the white noise. The clock reads 7:51AM and the sun is shining through the slats of your blinds, warming the room despite the best efforts of your ceiling fan. You grab your phone from your nightstand, trying to open your eyes wide enough that face ID will work, blinking away the sleep and stretching out your stiff legs. You scroll through your notifications, looking for anything pressing but feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that there is nothing on the calendar for you today.

You roll out of your bed, tossing the sheets and duvet over the spot you were laying in before, grabbing your sweats and sliding them over your legs. You drag yourself to the bathroom, seeing that her bedroom door is still closed and no sound is coming from behind it. She’s still asleep. Your mind flashes back to last night and the way she tasted on your lips, the softness of her skin, and the sound of her laugh. 

After brushing your teeth you make your way to the kitchen, digging around in the pantry for the coffee beans and filters so that you can start your day. You dump in the pre-grinded beans and press brew, knowing that in a few minutes the house will fill with the aroma of coffee. You settle on the couch with your phone in hand, scrolling through your socials and replying to a few texts as the coffee pot starts to brew. A few minutes later it beeps, pulling your attention away from your phone as it drags you into the kitchen. You pull a mug from the cabinet and pour in the steaming hot coffee, breathing in deeply the rich smell. This mug is from Arizona, clay colored with a turquoise Kokopelli on the front. You remember the struggle of hauling it around with you on that tour so many years ago, but somehow it made the trip and now several moves.

You hear the soft padding of feet in the hallway and a flutter rises in your chest. You turn to look at her, simultaneously pulling a mug down from the cabinet for her. As she rounds the corner you see her, still in her tiny pajamas and with sleepy eyes. She crosses her arms across her chest as she speaks.

“Do I smell coffee?” she squeaks, her voice still waking up for the day. 

“You do,” you answer, nodding her over. You pour the mug full of coffee and extend it to her, instantly wondering if she likes anything in it. “How do you like your coffee?”

She accepts the mug from your hand, grabbing it with both of hers. “Just creamer. I will pick some up at the store later today,” she pauses, “Thank you for this.”

“Of course,” you urge, “Can’t start my day without it.”

She leans her hip into the edge of the counter, sipping from the edge of the mug as silence falls over the two of you. You know it's now or never, so you take a deep breath and clear your throat. 

“Listen,” you start, leaning on the counter to mimic her position. “I’m– Sorry about last night, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me and I feel as though I overstepped a boundary.”

Her face flushes pink as she listens, biting her lips together as her eyes search yours.  “Oh, it’s…It’s no big deal Jake. It’s fine, you don’t need to apologize. It was a tiny kiss, barely anything.”

You swallow harshly as you remember it differently. “It was just the heat of the moment I suppose. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Just wanted to make sure we are okay, I guess,” you continue. 

“Yeah, absolutely,” she says, “No big deal.” You can see her holding back on what she really wants to say, but you don’t want to push. 

“Yeah, okay, yeah. No big deal.” you confirm. You both stand awkwardly looking at each other, the tension in the room growing larger and larger by the second. Her eyes flick over to the clock hanging on the wall, a wave of panic washing over her.

“I have to go get ready for work…” she pauses, “Thank you for the coffee.” 

You suddenly feel guilty about your late night. “I didn’t know you worked today. I shouldn’t have kept you up so late last night.”

She smiles, a small giggle leaving her lips. “You didn’t keep me up, I chose to stay up. And I only have two clients today. Should be a short day.”

You find yourself wishing you were one of them. To lay on her table and feel her hands on you, working away at the tense muscles in your body. Fuck, it sounds good. You shake your head of the thoughts, refocusing on her as she walks down the hallway, shutting her bedroom door behind her. 

Your mind swirls back to last night as you look out the kitchen window. The sun is shining brightly into the backyard, a few birds chirping in the Oak tree as your neighbor finishes up their lawn. Then, part of the conversation settles within you. Her garden. She wants to plant a garden here. And as you watch the bugs fly around outside the window an idea strikes you. Suddenly your free day is now filled with a plan.

—

HER POV

The drive to work is short, but that doesnt keep your mind from racing with the memories of last night. Every moment, big and small, replaying on the ten minute drive. His lips, his eyes, his touch, his laugh. Everything all at once right in the middle of Saturday morning farmers market traffic. Your heart rate picks up as you let the feeling of his lips on yours take center stage, though, the horn honking from the car behind you pulls you from the daydream.

You make the turn into the parking lot, having your choice of parking space today. After a few minutes you’re unlocking the front door and turning on the lights, bathing the small reception area in warm light. As you wait for the computer to power on, you check your phone, seeing a few missed texts that you take mental note of to respond to later. Quiet music begins to play through the speakers of the building as the booking software opens on the computer screen. You confirm your two appointments for the day, seeing that one is a new customer, and one is a return customer. Though, it's the last name of the return customer that has your heart beating out of your chest. 

It couldn’t be. Right?

Before you can confirm, the front door opens and a woman walks in. Older and gray, she hobbles through the small lobby and up to the reception desk. 

“Mrs. Sandborn?” you ask, confirming it’s your first client and not a walk in. 

“Yes, dear,” she smiles kindly. You can tell she is a sweet woman and that this appointment is going to be a breeze. The session is only thirty minutes long and you find she wants special attention paid to her lumbar area. 

Just as you thought the appointment slipped by in the blink of an eye as you got to know the woman and heard a bit of her life story as you worked on her aching back. She thanks you profusely as she leaves, making a return appointment for a few weeks from now. 

You see it’s not long before your second session with your returning client, and once again your pulse starts to race as you realize this client is likely very related to your new roommate. The thought has your palms sweating as you work to sanitize your work room, laying out new linens and checking the clients preferred diffuser scent for his session. 

The bell on the front door alerts you of his presence, and with a deep breath you shake away your nerves, walking into the lobby to meet him. His long dark hair is tied up at his neck as a beaming smile crosses his face. There is no doubt he is related to Jake, you can see it now clear as day and you know this hour long session will be the longest of your life.

“Hi Mr. Kiszka, great to see you again.”

A smirk pulls his smile to the side as he gives you a subtle nod, “You can call me Sam.”

—

Your mind is still racing as you weave through the midday traffic on your way home. You learned quite a few new things about your new roommate, whether you wanted to or not. You didn’t dare tell him that Jake is your roommate, not wanting to cross the line of professionalism, and honestly because you kind of wanted to hear what he had to say while still under the veil of anonymity. The hour seemed to move at a glacial pace as he told you of life on the road, new projects, and upcoming adventures he had planned with his brothers. But now, finally as you drive home you are able to put it past you, ready to spend the rest of the day at home decompressing, alone.

As you pull up to your house though, you notice Jake is actually still around, and working on something on the side of the house. You feel your pulse quicken as you catch a glimpse of him shoveling dirt, his t-shirt soaked through with sweat as the Tennessee sun beats down on him in the heat of the day. His black sunglasses sit low on his nose as he works, shoveling dirt into a wheelbarrow. His hair is twisted into a knot at the back of his head, a few sweaty strands escaping from his exertion.

Curious as to what exactly he is doing, you find yourself stepping out of your car and walking across the grassy lawn. You’re hesitant at first, still feeling a bit unsure about everything after last night, but you swallow down your anxiety as you step up to the side of the wheelbarrow.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you jut your hip out to the side as you finally speak, “What–What exactly are you doing?”

His head snaps up from his shovel, and he flicks his sunglasses up on his head, surprised to see you. 

“Shit, you’re home earlier than I expected.”

“Huh?” you question. 

“Well, I wanted to get it done before you got home, but, I guess…” he pauses, running his glove covered hand over his dirty face. “Surprise, here’s your garden,” he smirks, “Or what will be your garden.”

“Mine?” you ask, genuinely taken aback.

“Figured it’s the least I could do for you before I leave,” he answers, resting his arm on top of the shovel. 

Shock makes its way through your body, and you’re positive that no one has ever done anything this kind, let alone thoughtful, for you. 

A huge grin spreads across his face as he takes in your look of surprise. “So, you know what you want to plant here?”

You swallow quickly, shaking your head to clear your thoughts, “Yeah, I mean– yeah it’s summer, there’s a lot I can plant right now.” you stammer. “But– I don't have any seeds or–”

“I know,” he interrupts, “I thought…I know of this local plant nursery nearby. I could…take you?” He seems nervous to ask, and continues. “It’s kinda over near my office and I'm sure they have seeds and stuff. I pass it every day.”

“Sure,” you answer all too quickly. “It would need to be soon though, so that they have time to root and everything.”

He looks down to the perfect rectangle of tilled dirt as he smiles to himself, “Yeah. Yeah let me get cleaned up a little bit and we can… go now? If you want?”

“Oh, um, s-sure.” you answer, the initial shock now being replaced by the surprise of his forwardness. 

“Cool, give me a minute. I’ll drive.” he smiles, leaning his shovel against the side of the house before sauntering across the yard and through the front door. 

You stand there staring at this patch of dirt, in the perfect spot for a garden. You didn’t know he knew much about gardening, his brother failing to mention that detail during today's session. You mentally go over your list of summer vegetables, trying to decide what would be best for the space. 

Seconds later you hear the front door closing, and see Jake locking the door behind himself. 

“You ready?” he asks, the past ten minutes a whirlwind of events.

“Yeah,” you answer with a smile as you head towards his Jeep. He opens the door for you, helping you inside, his hands still a bit dirty from his work. He joins you seconds later, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. 

“How was work?” he asks, so casual for someone you only just met.

“It was good actually, just a short day, but um, your brother Sam was my last client.” you say nervously. 

“What?” he asks, his head snapping over to the side. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen him once before but I didn’t know you then. I saw his name on my schedule today and figured it had to be your brother, but when I saw him I knew for sure.” you admit.

“Wha–what did he say?” he asks, seemingly nervous. “Did he say anything about me, or?”

“Oh uh, nothing really,” I lie, not ready to disclose some of the things I learned in the hour-long session. “There isn’t a whole lot of talking during the appointments.”

He seems satisfied with that answer, dropping it with the shake of his head and a huff of annoyance.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a few minutes, just the sound of the engine and the faint sound of the radio playing. You decide to break the silence, a question eating you alive. 

“How did you know where to dig? That is the best spot in the whole yard.” you ask. “I had no idea you were into gardening.”

“I mean, I’m not. I did a little bit of research after you told me you wanted a garden here.” he answers, peering over at you beneath his dark lenses. 

“That was just last night…How did you–”

“Just wanted to do something nice for you. Only took a little bit of reading.” he grins, turning his attention back to the road. “Was worth it.”

“Well, thank you. Truly.” you breathe, letting a kind smile turn your lips. 

“Of course,” he answers, his tone the same as yours. Soft. 

—

“How about zucchini?” you ask, “Do you like zucchini?”

“Love it, one of my favorites,” Jake replies, plucking the seed packet from the wooden stand. He has an entire handful of different seeds, insisting you plant them all.

“We can’t do too many! It will be too crowded!” you laugh, scanning the rack of packets.

He shrugs his shoulders and smiles, as he grabs a few more packets of common herbs. Your eyes wander around the quaint nursery spotting a wire rack of plants on their last legs, brown and withering away for a severely reduced price. When you spot the sad looking tomato plant you tilt your head to the side and wander towards it. 

Your fingers graze its sad, wilted leaves, only one lone and tiny tomato bud on its puny stem. The soil is dry, and you can tell it has been neglected in its short life. You feel Jake walk up behind you, taking in the sight just the same as you. 

“I think I’m gonna save it,” you say, turning to meet his eyes. He looks at you like you’re crazy turning to look back at the entire row of strong and healthy tomato plants just behind the two of you. 

“Why that one? There are about a hundred great ones we could get.” he says, gesturing with his head. 

“No, this one is so sad. It needs its underdog story,” you pause, grabbing the frail plant. “I’m saving him.”

A grin pulls across his lips as he gently shakes his head, “Okay. Whatever you want, as long as I get to eat the tomatoes.”

You smile and nod, “So you think I can do it…” you say cheekily. 

“What?” he questions, walking the two of you towards the hose attachments.

“Save him.” you answer.

“Oh, well, yeah. I guess so.” he grins shyly, plucking a new sprayer nozzle from the shelf. “I think I’m going to enjoy watching you try.”

“Oh, well, I thought you knew…” you continue, watching as he shoots you a confused look. “This is a big commitment, you know, becoming tomato parents. It will take the both of us. Are you sure you’re up for that kind of commitment?” you say playfully.

He pretends to be unsure as he taps his fingers against his lips, “Well, I guess I’m gonna have to be, aren’t I? I can’t let you raise him alone.”

“I think so.” you giggle. 

He smiles at you with a brief pause as he looks at the pitiful plant, and then to you, “Then let's pay for him and get him home.”

—

JAKE POV

“Was that the last of the pack?” you ask, watching as Y/N places the last of the cucumber seeds into the ground. The sun is starting to dip below the trees, your daylight nearly gone. You worked all afternoon planting the seeds in the fresh soil, a smile plastered to your face as you talked and laughed at each other's handiwork throughout the process. Her tomato plant, which you named Heinz, was placed in its new home on the front porch, pruned and watered and ready to begin its journey back to full health. 

“Yep, that’s all of ‘em,” she grins, dusting off her dirty hands on her denim shorts. 

You take that as your cue to try out the new spray nozzle you bought for the hose, wanting it to be as easy as possible to water the garden bed. She starts to gently tap her shoe on the dirt, making sure it's packed down as you turn on the spigot and hear the water start to flow. 

You pull the trigger on the nozzle and a few drizzles of water start to flow through the head. You begin to spray the patch of dirt, watering your newly planted herbs and vegetables for the first time. Y/N steps back, crossing her arms across her chest as she watches you. Just as she looks away you aim the spray at her, hitting her arms with the cold faucet water. 

“Jake!” she squeals, your playful action taking her by surprise. She pushes her sunglasses up onto her head and shakes off her wet arms. 

“What?” you ask, a cheeky grin on your face as you spray her again in a different place.

This time her jaw drops as she starts to walk over to you, ready to turn the tables. You back away, holding the water house out of her reach as she tries to wrestle it away from you. She puts up a valiant fight, but it’s just not enough.

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. That was my bad.” you lie, waiting for her to retreat just enough, and she does, stepping back and turning her attention back to the water that is now flowing onto the ground. 

But you don’t concede that easily. As soon as she feels safe, you spray her again, knocking her sunglasses off of her head. 

“Jacob!” she shouts, this time running at you full force and ripping the nozzle from your hands before you can stop her. Instantly you are soaked with water from the hose, the two of you fighting each other for the upper hand between sprays of cold water. 

You finally regain control of the water hose as the two of you laugh, now completely soaking wet. You let the spray hit her face, and that is her final straw as she tackles you to the ground in order to end this water war. 

“You are terrible!” she laughs, still doing her best to grab the hose from you. But sadly for her, you are stronger and find yourself rolling her to her back on the muddy grass as you hold the hose out of her reach.

You are both dripping wet and mud covered as you hover over her, your smiles a mirror image of each other as you both breathe heavily trying to catch your breath. It’s then that you take her in, in her most raw, vulnerable state as she lays beneath you. You stare at her for a moment, everything silent between the two of you as the hose continues to run. 

Without warning, your hand moves up to swipe away a muddy drip of water from her cheek, softly and probably far too tenderly for a pair of roommates. Before you can pull your hand from her warm, wet skin, you feel her fingers move to grip at the back of your neck, pulling you down to her as she presses her lips to yours. 

You’re instantly transported back to last night. Back to that first sweet kiss shared between the two of you. Her lips ignite the same feeling as they did then, soft and electric, but this time wet. 

It’s her that initiated this kiss. It’s her that wants this, and so you take that as your green flag to descend deeper into it, kissing her back the way you’ve thought about every second since last night. You let your muddy, wet hand cradle her cheek, your thumb balancing on the curve of her chin. 

You feel yourself relax a bit, really feeling the moment of this kiss. You feel a vibration against your lips as she lets the smallest whine leave her mouth and flow into yours, her tongue beginning to part your lips. Her free hand finds its way to your back, her fist gripping your soaked t-shirt, as her other hand tangles into the hair at the base of your neck.

She tastes how you imagined, stronger than she did last night, and you want more. Your hand slides down her neck as you use your thumb to tilt her chin higher. Your left hand is still supporting your weight above her as she lays in the grass below. You want to get closer, but you don’t want to move too quickly. You’re happy with this, and you’re willing to take whatever she will give you. 

You feel her try to pull you closer, her tongue moving further into your mouth as your own groan leaves your lips. Her wet leg slides against your own and you want nothing more than to feel her naked skin against yours. You almost let yourself settle on top of her, but a passing car pulls you both from the heated moment, placing you both back in your front yard. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, pulling away from her quickly as you realize what exactly had happened. She too, sits up quickly, adjusting her wet clothes and wiping her lips of the taste of you. Yet again you have thrown yourself at this woman, and are left in an awkward situation. 

You stand to your feet and adjust your pants, hoping to conceal the fact that you are hard beneath them. You run your hand over your chin as you look at her, feeling terrible for what happened in the heat of the moment. 

“I’m sorry,” you start, a deeper tone taking over your voice, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” It’s the absolute last thing you want to be saying to her, your attraction to her growing tenfold over the course of the day. 

She stares up at you in shock, or maybe embarrassment, you can’t be too sure. But embarrassment is the last thing she should feel. You haven’t been kissed like that in quite some time. She stands quickly, shielding her hard nipples with crossed arms. She nods and doesn’t say much, and for some reason, it makes you feel worse. 

“We should um, go get cleaned up,” you say, hoping to break the tension. “You can grab the first shower, I’ll clean up out here.”

She nods and starts to walk towards the door, stopping quickly as she calls your name. “Jake?”

“Yeah?” you answer hopefully. 

“Thanks for doing all this.” she says quietly, before disappearing into the shared home. 

—

As you make your way back into the house you notice the quiet. Her bedroom door is shut, and you can’t hear a single sound from behind it. You figured she would be in the shower by now. You walk to the kitchen sink, washing the mud from your hands before attempting to touch anything else in the house. The dirt swirls down the drain as you finally hear her bedroom door open, and the quick closing of the bathroom door. 

You take this as your chance to head to your bedroom, finding your phone laying on the bed, where it has been for the last several hours. Truth be told you forgot about its existence until this exact moment. You strip yourself of your muddy clothes before reaching for it, perching yourself on the edge of the bed as the screen lights up in your hands. 

Missed Call: Sam

You bite your lips together as you decide whether or not to call him back, but eventually decide to fill your mind with something other than the girl in the shower. You hit his contact letting the call ring out as you hold it to your ear. He answers on the second ring. 

“Dude, where have you been?” he asks as he answers the call. 

“Sorry, I was doing some stuff in the yard here. What’s up?” you answer. 

“Nothing too much, thought maybe we could get a drink or something later…”

Fuck yeah, thats exactly what you need. 

“You know what? Yeah, I actually need to speak to you dammit.” you growl out, fully planning to interrogate him about his little session with Y/N earlier. 

“About?” he asks, as if not knowing. 

“I think you know. I’ll see you at Rack Em’ in about an hour?” you confirm.

“See you then.” he says, ending the call. 

A few minutes later you hear her coming out of the bathroom, her figure a blur of blue towel and wet hair as she dashes across the hallway. You let out a deep breath as you pull yourself up off your bed and make your way into the bathroom, ready to shower away the mud and sweat from your skin. 

You grab your towel before stepping into the bathroom, the air still steamy and smelling of her sweet body wash as you enter. You feel yourself start to grow hard just from the smell alone. You start the shower with a growl, pissed at yourself for letting her have this effect on you. For consuming your mind this quickly. 

You cannot do this. She is your roommate.

Your really sexy roommate whose lips were on yours mere minutes ago.

As you step beneath the spray you push all the thoughts of her and everything that happened outside to the back of your mind, showering as quickly as possible, desperate to get out of the house and away from her before you make anything worse.

You dress quickly, pulling a few staple items from your closet and sliding into your boots. You run your fingers through your hair and give yourself a spray of cologne as you pocket your phone, keys and wallet. Your eyes flick over to see her bedroom door is still closed. You briefly consider knocking to let her know you’re leaving, but decide to just let things be and really drive home the point that the two of you are roommates and that's it. No matter if it pains you just a little.

You decide to get to the bar early, giving yourself time to sort out your thoughts before Sam arrives. The last thing you need is for him to catch wind of your feelings that have begun to blossom with Y/N. You throw back a shot of tequila, feeling the burn as it travels down your throat and warms your stomach. You can’t seem to shake the thought of the kiss from your mind, though. Or the feeling of her hands gripping your shirt, or the sounds she made. Fuck. You need another shot.

As the bartender slides you another, you see Sam walking through the door and you wave him down to the corner spot at the bar. 

“You started without me?” he laughs, feigning sadness.

“Couldn’t wait on you all night,” you grin, tossing back the clear liquor. 

“Tequila?” he asks, taking the empty seat next to you.

“The one and only,” you answer, nodding at the bartender as you signal for two more. “Now, why don’t you tell me about your little massage this morning, hm?”

He smiles a cheeky smile, “I wondered if she was going to tell you.”

“She mentioned it. Casually.” you say, tossing back another shot. “The fuck did you say?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he laughs, taking his own shot, but following with a lime wedge. “Just told her your whole life story and every embarrassing fact about you.”

“Fuck you, no you didn’t,” you warn with a deeper voice. 

“No, calm down.” he says as if exhausted. “Just talked about band stuff. She never even mentioned that she was your roommate, but I will say she has magic hands.”

“Fuck off, Sam.”

“Oh, you sound a little jealous there, brother.” he taunts.

“Not jealous. I just– It’s weird. You being her client. That’s all.” you answer. 

“Mhmm.” he hums, giving you a knowing look.

Of course at that exact moment your phone lights up on the bar top, a message from ‘Girlfriend’ displaying across the screen in big bold letters. You try to grab it before Sam notices, but you’re too late as a smile spreads across his face. 

“Huh, is that right?” he taunts, elbowing your side. 

“No. it’s not what you think. I had to put her in my phone like that– Our landlord thinks–Actually I don’t have to explain this to you. It’s not like that. It’s just a lie we are telling the landlord because she is too nice to tell him otherwise.” you ramble. 

“Yeah, uh huh. Sure sounds like it's like that.” he answers, fully unbelieving of your explanation. 

You do decide to spare a glance at her text, opening it as Sam orders another drink.

Girlfriend

8:56PM: Did you leave?

You

8:59PM: Yeah, be back late.

You keep it short and sweet and as neutral as possible, when truth be told, everything in you wants to tell her that you were just out with your brother for drinks and that you would be home soon. But you felt that was too much information for two people who just shared the same house. She didn’t need to know every detail. Right?

Girlfriend

9:01: Oh, okay. I left cookies for you on the stove.

A shock shoots right through your chest. Cookies? You suddenly find yourself wanting to be home, and in her presence, completely negating every other feeling you’ve had tonight. But no. You can’t. You need to make the line clear. Roommates. That's it.

You make it a point to not think about her for the rest of the night, spending time with your brother and making conversation with anyone who came up to you tonight. Sam continues to question you about her, but you shoot him down every single time. You need him to believe it. You even go as far as to accept attention from a girl that has been eyeing you from across the bar. A leggy blonde in a tight black dress.

That seems to shut him up as the two of you share drinks and your mind becomes hazy. The night has grown later and her jokes have become funnier, a kiss is shared between the two of you and in the back of your mind you know it feels wrong. You know that her kiss doesn't even compare to the kiss you shared with Y/N just hours ago. You let her though. You let this nameless woman kiss you in the bar just to prove a point. 

Truth be told she isn’t even your type, quite the opposite actually, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Sam now fully believes you about Y/N. As Sam makes his exit from the bar, you find yourself in the back of an Uber with this woman, Claire, on your way back to your place. His lips are attached to your neck and her hands are in your hair as the Uber driver sends you judgemental looks through the rearview mirror. 

You couldn’t care less though, tipping him as he pulled up at the curb in front of your house. You fumble with the keys as she continues to kiss you, in a drunken state of her own. As the lock breaks free you both stumble inside to find the house dark. You’re both laughing as you push her down the hallway towards your bedroom. You know you’re being too loud but you don’t really care. It’s not that late is it?

“Stay here,” you say, pressing a kiss to her lips before she falls backwards onto your bed. You slip out of the bedroom and shut the door behind you as you make your way into the kitchen, the clock on the stove reading 1:04AM. Shit, maybe it is late. 

You know you’re going to need another shot if you are going to sleep with this girl. You pull a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and twist the lid. You bring the glass straight to your lips and take a long pull. It burns like hell, but you’re already too gone to care. You place the bottle on the counter as you run your hand over your face, unsure if you really want to proceed with Claire.

It’s on the walk back to your bedroom that you get your answer, though. Standing in her bedroom doorway, is Y/N. She’s in the tiniest little shorts and a tank top you’ve ever seen. Her eyes are tired and you can tell you’ve woken her from her sleep. You wonder how long she’s been asleep and what she did tonight, while you left her alone at the house.

“Is everything okay?” her groggy voice asks, it’s quiet and timid. You feel your heart shatter as you realize she is the one you would rather have waiting in your bed. From the moment you kissed her last night, you’ve wanted nothing more.

You don’t want to let her in on this, so you continue with your cold, short demeanor. “Yeah. All good. Great actually.”

Just then, Claire opens your bedroom door, peeking out, revealing her in just her lace bra. “You comin’ Jake?” she asks, and right then you want to disappear into thin air. Claire isn’t the girl you want to be with tonight, and the girl you do want to be with is watching everything happen a foot away from you.

Your eyes shoot to Y/N, who is looking at her before slowly looking back at you. You can tell she is feeling something, but she will never admit it. It’s a similar look to the one she had this afternoon. Right before she kissed you. Right before your wet bodies gave away your intentions with each other. When her lips kissed yours harder than they did last night. Needier and more wanting. 

You know you can’t sleep with Claire. Not when your mind is so consumed by Y/N.

Y/N quickly nods at you, and quietly closes her bedroom door, twisting the lock and retreating back to her bed. 

As if things could get any worse. 

You look to Claire, and a rush of clarity washes over you. You can end this. You can make the right choice. 

This has to stop. You can’t sleep with this girl.

You push your way back into your bedroom and close the door, Claire instantly trying to attach herself to your neck. All you can think of is Y/N and your kiss earlier, it’s as if that is all your brain can process at the moment. You gently push Claire away, shaking your head as you suddenly start to sober up, despite the whiskey traveling through your veins. You can’t use her like this. You won’t.

You shake your head as you look at a very confused and drunken Claire, “Listen, I’m sorry, Claire. We can’t do this. We aren’t in the right state of mind.” you pause, “I will call you an Uber to take you wherever you need to go.”

“You serious?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips, stepping back a bit. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can say you, pulling your phone from your pocket. It takes you two minutes to order an Uber, and instantly you begin to feel better. About everything. 

“I really am sorry. I’ll let you get dressed,” you say, slipping out of your bedroom. You feel guilty for bringing her here, but you know this is for the best.

A few minutes later she joins you in the living room, her attitude drastically different than it was ten minutes ago. You feel guilty for leading her on, then shutting her down so quickly but the minute you saw Y/N you knew you were making a bad choice. 

You watch as Claire walks into the kitchen and leans up against a counter as the two of you wait for the Uber to arrive. She grabs a cookie off of the stove and that's when you remember why they are there in the first place. A heat begins to take over your body as you watch her eat the cookie that Y/N left for you. Despite being upset with you, she made and left you these cookies, and all you did is throw another woman in her face. You’ve fucked up, yet again. 

The Uber arrives and you usher her out the front door with haste, praying you never have to see her again, and in a city like this you likely never will. You lock the front door behind yourself and you head back to the kitchen, grabbing a cookie for yourself as you sit in the dark and enjoy what is probably the best chocolate chip cookie you’ve ever tasted. 

As you brush your teeth you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, trying to figure out how you can fix this. If you can fix this. You briefly consider knocking on her door and telling her that you sent her home, but you realize it doesn’t really matter because truth be told you shouldn’t be with her either, no matter how badly you want to be. 

Once again your mind flashes back to this afternoon. All the laughs you shared and the genuine happiness you felt as you planted the tiny seeds in the garden and brought home the sad tomato plant. She has the prettiest laugh, and the best smile. You could stare at her all day. You don’t want to sleep with random women. That’s not who you are. 

You drag yourself into your bed, staring at the ceiling as you replay the kiss over and over in your mind, torturing yourself as you realize it might have been the last one. In a final act of guilt you reach for your phone, pulling it out of the pocket of your jeans and pulling up her contact. 

You

1:38AM: I’m sorry I woke you. Just thought you should know I sent her home. 

You place your phone on your nightstand, wondering if you’d done the right thing, and as your eyes shut you are surprised to hear it buzz with a response. You snatch it off the nightstand far too quickly.

Girlfriend

1:39AM: Why did you do that?

It takes you a minute to figure out the real answer to the question, and if the real answer is the one you should give her. You decide that you’re done lying to her. All it does is get you into more trouble. So, you tell the truth, unknowing of what the future would hold because of it, and praying you were making the right choice. 

You

1:41AM: Because she's not who I want. 

You

1:41AM: Sweet dreams, Y/N.

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[thebestandrealestever]

#jungle.!

miles morales 42 x black fem reader

sum : miles is late again , but makes up for it warns : fem/black coded reader, yk he’s the prowler btw a/n : drabble. i realized i write like “hood love” 😂 anyway shessssssbackkk!!!!

“where is this lil nigga ?” you said to yourself as you shivered outside the movie theater looking over your shoulders trying to spot him , when you couldn’t you grabbed your phone to check his location . it was off , n he only turned it off when he was doing sum he wasn’t supposed to . you decide to text him again and ask if you should just go home . surprisingly he responses within a minute. “nah go inside and start watching it i’ll be there .” you read it in a mimicking voice then he text again “15 mins ma , swear ill be there” you just send an eye roll emoji and head inside . you show the worker your ticket , gets your snacks nn just go watch the movie . after what seems like WAY more than 15 minutes you can sense a brownskin demon enter the building. and you were right , he sits down beside you and takes some of your popcorn looking at you . “ you look good , what i miss bae” you slow turn your head to him with a stank face “what i miss bae” you say mimicking him and he rolls his eyes and kisses your cheek “m sorry i got you sum it’s in the car , an apology to say the least .” he says putting his arm around you and moving closer . “you like making me look like a dummy ? this the 5th date you been late to , starting to seem like youn really care .” you say in a hushed voice looking back at the screen and he smacks his lips . “ don’t start bro , you know i got shit to do . you know i care and i don’t mean to be late im sorry baby” he says removing his arm and sliding it onto your knee and rubbing all the way to your thigh at a slow pace . “yeah i do know u got shit to do BRO but you gon be late every single time ? jus lmk what we really doing . you could just plan better” you say softening your voice and sipping your drink and he sighs rubbing his temple with his free hand . “im sorry mama , i need to be better and i will . trust me ima start doing right , these dates mean a lot to me , and im fucking them up . im sorry , imma be better for you okay ?” he says facing you and you turn to look at him too , its dark but you can still see the genuine look on his face . “i love you girl , and i do care . don’t ever question that ight ?” he says putting his hand on your neck to kiss you deeply and you return it of course . “i love you too miles , m sorry for being so harsh” you say pecking him one more time “you wasn’t being harsh i deserve it , you wanna stay and watch the movie or leave ?” he says adjusting his position and putting his arm back around you, “well shit i already watched half the damn movie let’s just finish it” you say and he chuckles leaning to peck your forehead again “whatever you want princess .”

[jjunberry]

can i be your boyfriend?

pairing! seo changbin x fem! reader

genre! angst with fluffy ending

synopsis! when changbin keeps his feelings for his bestfriend a secret until his friends tease a confession out of him

wc! 940

changbin’s eyes followed your figure. you were dancing around the kitchen with felix making brownies. he loved how well you got a long with his friends. “you make it so obvious dude it’s kind of sad.” jisung spoke. changbin glared at the boy. “make what obvious?” he asked. “that you like her.” chan budded in. jisung laughed at changbin’s shocked face. “i-i do not.” he tried to defend himself he did. however he couldn’t deny the flutter of his heart and the butterflies in his stomach.

“why don’t you just tell her?” chan asked. changbin was quiet. “i can’t.” jisung rolled his eyes at the boy. “and why not?” changbin shrugged his shoulders. “because it’s not true.” he yelled gaining the attention of the rest of the household. “what’s not true?” felix asked curious. “apparently changbin hyung’s feelings for our y/nie.” jeongin answered from having been eavesdropping on the conversation.

your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. changbin caught your eyes before you quickly turned your attention back to the brownie batter. “don’t mind them y/n they’re being stupid.” changbin tried. you let out a small laugh. “yeah of course silly boys.” you dumped the batter into the baking dish. changbin caught onto your off putting attitude. you were quiet and moved away from his tries for cuddles during the movie.

changbin felt like an asshole.

since that night you haven’t answered his phonecalls. ignored his text messages. didn’t respond to his dms. changbin was pretty sure you blocked his phone number. it was quite the opposite though. you listened to every voice mail, read every text, and dm. you still had his number favorited your phone. it hurt to hear him apologizing for something and he didn’t even know what he did wrong.

you had enough of his constant phone calls and your voicemail was full. you gripped your phone and hit the green answer button. “what?” you snapped. “y/n? what has gotten into you? you ignore me for weeks then get nasty when you finally do answer. what’s going on?” he sounded tired. you sighed. “i don’t really want to talk about it.” the temptation to hang up was eating at you, but your heart wanted to hear him out.

“well i want to. i think i deserve to know why my best friend is ignoring me.” changbin sighed deeply and you heard rustling as he moved positions in what you could only assume was his bed. “please.” he pleaded. it was your turn to sigh. “changbin do you have any idea why?” you couldn’t bring yourself to just openly say ‘hey i like you and it hurt my feelings when you said you’d never see me that way.’

“no, i just know i hurt you and i’d like to know what i can do to make it better, to make us better.”

you couldn’t help the scoff that left you. “you don’t even know what you did. changbin i like you but you’d never see me that way.” you seethed. unable to hide the heartbreak any further. “w-what?” he was speechless. his heart was beating out of his chest. you liked him back? before he had the chance to plead his case the call ended.

you took his silence as confirmation of your feelings being unrequited.

it took changbin all of ten minutes to get from the dorm to your apartment. your sobs covered the door bell so he used his key to get in, the key he promised to only use in emergencies. to changbin you crying was always an emergency. a major one since the tears were over him.

he quickly made his way to your room, were you were in a ball under the blankets. he seen your figure shaking and the sound of your sobs shattered the last few pieces of his heart. “y/n.” he spoke softly. you jumped and pulled the blanket off your head. even with your hair sticking up in different directions and your eyes swollen and puffy, you were still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

“changbin w-what are you doing here?” your voice was shaky. changbin took a few steps before sitting next to you on the bed. “y/n you never even let me reply.” he started but you cut him off. “sorry i didn’t want to hear you reject me.” you seethed flopping down and pulling the blanket over yourself once again.

“will you let me finish please?” he sighed. you shrugged under the covers. changbin placed his hand on your hip and rubbed your leg comfortingly. “before you hung up on me, i was going to tell you that i like you too, not even i love you.” you peeked out from the blanket and looked at changbin who already had his eyes on you.

“you do?” you asked. “yeah i do.” he replied. you sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. changbin gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap. his hands slipped under your shirt and he caressed your skin. you locked your hands around his neck. your forehead rested against his. “y/n i love you so much.” he whispered. his lips brushing against yours. “i love you too.” you finally connected your lips to his.

changbin’s grip on your hips tightened and he pulled you closer to him. “y/n?” he asked as you pulled apart. “yeah.” you mumbled chasing his lips after the kiss. “can i be your boyfriend?” you giggled smacking his chest before capturing his lips against yours again. “yes.”

requested! by @dinossaurz

tag list! @304files @jjunieworld

author’s note! ahh my first (official) skz fic i’m so happy to be writing for them tysm for requesting

masterlist

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry

[wistfulnightingale]

Finding Forgiveness (or, Text Barrages and Apology Dances)

Mini Meta-Musing #8

Forgiveness after a disagreement or an argument is such a simple yet complicated thing. In even the closest, most intimate relationships, it requires a great deal of trust and love. The person who caused the hurt must surrender some of their pride for the sake the loved one. They must also trust that it is safe to do so. The person who was hurt must be willing to let go of their anger or resentment, and open themselves up to the relationship again.

In the first episode of Season 2 of Good Omens, we are presented with two relationships in conflict. One uses words and words and more words... but there is no listening, no trust. The other settles the conflict with very few words at all. With a dance, in fact. Yet the trust and love there is deep and obvious.

The first is Nina and her partner Lindsay. Lindsay has assumed that Nina broke her trust by not calling when she was locked in the coffee shop with her phone out. Sure, the situation sounds a bit implausible... but Lindsay sends a barrage of accusatory texts before she knows any of the facts. As the days go by, we learn that not only is Lindsay controlling, but she also has no faith in her partner. She dumps words and accusations and guilt trips, never believing or listening or trusting, until finally breaking up with Nina in a resentment-filled text message.

After seeing that first deluge of text messages when Crowley restores power to the coffee shop, we are immediately shown a far different way to resolve conflict. The next scene is Crowley's melodramatic return to the bookshop. Aziraphale and Crowley have a lasting, deeply rooted relationship. Although some argue that they don't communicate enough, especially in this resolution, I propose that they have found a lovely and mature way to resolve serious conflicts.

Everytime I watch this scene, and see how intensely difficult it is for Crowley to accept doing this, I'm actually a little in awe. Crowley HATES DOING THIS DANCE!!! But as much as he hates humbling himself like this, he Loves Aziraphale MORE. It is far more important to him to fix their conflict quickly, be back on good terms, and help his Angel solve this Gabriel problem. Although his face looks fierce and his tone is irritated, his eyes never leave Azi's. I think they look a bit imploring. The apology is in his golden eyes.

" 'Kay?" is not just, "Are we okay now?" It's also a trust, a gift. "You understand how much I care about you, right? I really do accept how stubborn and thoughtless I was earlier, and you see that I'm very sorry, even though it's hard for me to say the words, yeh?"

Aziraphale is of course, deep down, just a bit of a bastard, so he does take a bit of a comeuppance in his "Very nice." Many of us read a bit more in that look... Crowley looks very elegant in that deep bow! Nonetheless, Azi is happy to be reconnected with his demon, and he eagerly engages with Crowley's brainstorming about their "tiny miracle."

They don't need to verbally process what the fight was about. They've had this fight before, in varying contexts, and they'll surely have it again. But they're working on it, each of them. They know each other's faults, and they love and forgive each other anyway.

I love these moments (in the above photo) after Jimbriel toddles down the stairs. Crowley has just scolded Jimbriel to stay inside. Meanwhile, behind him, Aziraphale steps in closer with an idea. Without even looking back, Crowley steps backwards into that familiar spot where he will be perfectly paired and facing his angel once he turns towards him. Like magnets. Like a couple who is completely synchronized, as long as they are open and trusting each other.

And the familiar excited exchange of ideas begins again!

Oh yes indeed... This is definitely An Old Married Couple (I wrote a meta on it!). They know how to communicate, how to trust each other, and how to forgive. At least as well as many of us do...!

And, although we don't really NEED to see it here, I'm including a gif of Crowley's Apology Dance. It's beautiful, it's graceful... Aw, heck, we all just LIKE to see it again!