#i have held this close to my heart & am finally sharing it

[in-death-sacrifice]

Okay so I gave this idea of being a companion for Rook and having a mutual pining think going on with Lucanis. Could you write anything like that?

Warnings: Mutual pinning, Comfort, Fluff, One bed trope!

Lucanis Dellamorte x GN!Rook

Hope you enjoy! Requests are open so please send them my way! I am working on a couple of oneshots too! Along with some smut so if there's any kinks you think work well with our assassins you want to see it send them in my requests!❤️

Lucanis stared at the ceiling, his heart beating so wildly as he looked at you. Your body so close to his, tucked perfectly under the covers as exhaustion finally crept in. He should sleep but he was worried about spite, about where he might end up without people guarding the exits. Or without the safety of being tucked away in a spot of the fade that no one could enter.

The group were exhausted after their fight against the antaam, most of them almost beaten to pulp with their new weaponry. You all chose to sleep in a nearby inn, the only trouble there was only one room left that was finished with a Twin and Double. He offered to sleep in the chair, knowing he wouldn't be able to get a wink if he tried hard enough to prevent it. But of course you disapproved, practically shoving him to the bed and instructing him to stay like a dog. It was cute seeing you care so much, his heart melting at the fact you didn't even flinch at the idea to lay next to him and his demon partner.

He could feel the heat radiating off your body, wanting nothing more than to run his fingers through the strands of your hair. He found himself getting lost in the thought of the texture, wondering if the strands were soft and silky or rough. The slithers of skin that your evening outfit gave off were enough to get the blood pumping southwards. He felt like a teenage boy laying here; begging for a touch at the first chance he shares a bed. Lucanis continued to watch you, the way your features are relaxed in your sleep; your chest slowly rising with each breath. He wondered if your calmness was because of his own presence, if you felt the same way as he did. If he tainted your dreams like you do with the few he got to experience.

He wanted to fight it, the need to be closer; the feeling of his eyelids getting heavier with each breath. He could just pump himself with coffee in the morning like normal but maybe spite would be quiet just this once. Allow him to relax and finally catch up on the much needed sleep to chase away his constant headache. He didn't get to choose as he finally succumbed to the darkness, falling into a pit of deep sleep...thankful no horrors of the past year to plague his mind.

When you awoke you struggled to move, there was something pinning you to the mattress. Your arm is outstretched to feel for the man beside you only to find him laying on your chest. His arms tucked tightly around your waist hugging you like you escape his grasp, turn to dust. His breathing was even, his hair messy and falling over his eyes instead of in its usual pushed back style. You could feel his breath against the skin of your chest, the puffs of air leaving goosebumps against your skin. You knew you should move, but you didn't want to. It felt nice, grounding to be held like this. So instead of waking up you fell back into your deep slumber, this time you fingers gently playing with the longer strands of hair at the back of his head. Maybe he likes you too but until you knew for certain...his frustratingly slow shows of affections would do for you.

You only prayed the dangers you both had to face would allow you to relish in this moment.

[apocryphics]

requiem, jill osier.

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (10) - A New Way

Chapter summary: Astarion always find a way back to you even in the midst of all the chaos.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Sexual frustration. Jealous Astarion. Protective Astarion. Fingering. Masturbation. Cumplay. Innuendo. Body worship.

Word count: 7.3k

Author's note: Tumblr isn't allowing me to reply to comments ever since I changed my @... already contacted support. I am not ignoring you guys *deep sigh*

Ao3

Series Masterlist

Rivington had its fair share of taverns and inns sprawled across its busy and lively streets. It was surely a welcome change from the grim and daunting sense of dread that loomed over you when travelling across the shadowlands. 

As such, the group had split to indulge in some brief moments of well deserved and welcome repose before finally reaching Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion sat across from you, subtlety eyeing his surroundings as you happily sipped your apple juice. 

The sun had yet to reach its peak but the tavern was already crawling with drunkards and unpleasant crowds. 

“We shouldn’t linger.” Astarion mused with arms crossed.

You nodded. “I’m nearly done.”

As much as you wished to forget about the troubling matters that haunted you, it was evident that your presence was earning some unwanted curious stares from a few onlookers. 

He suddenly reached for the pouch at his hip, withdrawing a piece of fabric before extending his hand to you.

“Here.”

You took it in your hand, briefly admiring its silky texture of the handkerchief as shades of teal and green swirled together in mesmerising patterns.

Then your fingers found golden letters sewn along one corner. 

Your name.

Your heart was clenched tight as you traced each letter in absolute awe.

“Astarion, this is…”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, think nothing of it, darling. You’re often covered in blood and sweat and Gods know what other fluids,” he said with a curt smile. “I figured you might as well look stylish whilst wiping that pretty face of yours.”

There he was.

So easily crawling under your skin with his words and now with such a thoughtful gift that fully displayed his artistry and exceptional needlework.

A lump in your throat held your words back.

Maybe he didn’t consider this gesture all that relevant or even worthy of a lingering thought, but you did.

This was a silent extension of him.

Now you’d have him by your heart at all times.

But the moment was cut short as a loud bang rippled across your table.

A man reeking of cheap mead cackled loudly at you. He was swaying so violently it was an incredible feat that he was able to stand on both feet without losing balance.

“Oi! Aren’t you that gal from a few years ago who did magic tricks?”

Your blood ran cold at once and your insides twisted into several knots.

“I don’t think so.” you said, focusing your gaze on the drink in front of you.

You didn’t recognise him, but you silently prayed he would just drop the matter and leave.

Instead, he hiccuped. “N-No! It is you! I would never forget such a face.”

Your eyes met Astarion’s momentarily as he narrowed his crimson eyes at the loud drunkard, and you reckoned he was close to intervening. 

You mustered your strength. “No. It’s not me.”

But the man was insistent as he was drunk.

He banged a hand on the wooden surface once more. “What? You are the one whose mother–”

The flash of a dagger pierced through your field of vision, landing right between the man’s fingers, the blade pressed menacingly against his thumb.

“She said ‘no’,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flaring with contempt. “Should I teach you the meaning of the word?”

The man shuddered and cowered in fear as he strolled away as fast as his wobbly steps would allow.

But Astarion had overdone it and had simultaneously caused many heads to turn your way, voices whispering as people tried to make out what the fuss was all about.

“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, sheathing his dagger as he stood up.

You remained frozen in place, still taken aback by the words the man had spewed at you.

Your mind had been kept too busy to dive back into the memories of your mother, and to dwell on what had happened so many years ago.

A shudder spread across your entire body as the sense of dread gripped you.

You felt his hand nudge your shoulder. “Now’s not the time for daydreaming, sweetheart.”

And he quickly tugged at your arm, pulling you up on your feet before the two of you scurried along the tavern and earning heavy glares.

You made it out just in time as two Fists crossed paths with you on their way inside, trying to disperse the crowd that had gathered around the entryway.

“What was that all about?” Astarion asked as soon as you were able to blend in with the passers-by. 

“Nothing.”

Your mouth had gone awfully dry even though you had downed most of your apple juice, replenishing your hydration level. 

He stared at you, raising a brow inquisitively. “He did actually know you, didn’t he?”

You met his gaze in a silent warning. “He must have had me confused with someone else.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, but I will not pry. We all have secrets to bear.”

You nodded, thankful for his understanding remark.

There was no point in lying to him. He could always see right through your silly attempts at deception. 

“Just know that you can come to me should you need to air them out,” he added. “I know all too well how buried secrets always find a way to crawl to the surface – one way or another.”

It was a glaring testament to how he had come to terms with opening up to someone else.

He had come far in that regard and you felt proud of him.

A faint smile settled on your lips, but it faded just as quickly once realisation hit you.

“Wait!” you said, gripping his arm. “The handkerchief – I left it there. Let me–”

He patted your back. “Leave it, darling. Unless you fancy starting a tavern brawl, that is.”

Your heart dropped.

“But…”

“I will embroider you a new one.”

But he never did.

There was no point in lying to Astarion.

You were very well aware of this.

He would spot your deceit faster than a hawk could tail its prey.

But the dreadful sense of impending doom had rooted you to the sofa.

This couldn’t all just be a coincidence. 

By the time the two of you had reached the room, Gale and Lae’zel had already vanished through a portal to Waterdeep to assess the situation. 

“All we can do for now is wait.” Astarion said, adjusting his shirt. 

Shadowheart scoffed. “This is all very odd. It’s as if something is at work against us.”

You nodded. “I agree.”

“Are the two of you in some competition to see who’s the most dramatic?” he said with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, we know nothing about what happened. Maybe his contact succumbed to self-inflicted boredom – a running theme amongst wizards.”

His sense of humour would have been welcome under different circumstances, but you were on the brink of freaking out.

“Maybe I could cast Arcane Gate and help out…” you said in a restless tone, feeling nauseous.

But the mage slayer outside kept your magic levels too low for you to successfully cast a level six conjuration spell, so it was not even an option.

Astarion immediately snorted as he joined your side. “Perish the thought. I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing given your condition. You might open a portal to some place infested with murderous creatures, and then I’ll have to jump in to rescue you.”

Shadowheart, who had been pacing worriedly across the room, came to an immediate halt. “What condition?”

You rubbed your temples as if it would magically dissipate the gnawing headache.

“I had too much to drink last night.”

Shadowheart’s accusatory stare immediately landed on Astarion. “What did you do?”

He scoffed dramatically. “Excuse me? I am well aware that pinning the blame on me is a recurring activity in this group, but I had nothing to do with this.”

You groaned with a wince. “Please keep your voices down…”

Shadowheart rushed to lower herself by your feet until she could eye-level with you. “Are you all right?”

No.

And it had little to do with the aftermath of your alcohol consumption.

Ava.

Your intuition was pounding ceaselessly in your mind and you just couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it any longer.

Yes, she had told you she would talk to Astarion, but your nerves were being eaten raw and time wasn’t something you could afford to spare.

“I… think I need to talk about something…” you began as a shiver tore through your body.

Shadowheart gripped your knees, her face twisted in alarmed worry. “What is it?”

You exchanged a glare with Astarion who eyed you in confusion.

“I met up with Ava last night and…” You paused briefly, pondering your next words. “She made an offering.”

His brows furrowed together. “What offering?”

You felt sweat coat your palms as your heart rate quickened in distress. “She’s under the impression someone is after us,” you said, clutching your hands together. “That whoever it is might be responsible for that dead body and us getting wrongfully arrested.”

Shadowheart was now gripping your knees firmly. “And what did she offer?”

Your leg was visibly shaking now as you were finding it harder to keep your composure.

“Apparently, when Astarion feeds on me, our blood mixes together and…”

As far as you were aware, Shadowheart wasn’t aware of his deal with Ava, so you decided to hold that information.

“She’s interested in that… mixture and wants access to it in exchange for information.”

The effect your words had was nearly catastrophic. 

Shadowheart looked positively scandalised and Astarion immediately gripped your arm, snarling, “ What? ”

He was instantly on his feet and you followed suit.

“How would she even have access to that in the first place?” she asked in awe.

Astarion spoke before you could, “I’ve been giving her some of my blood as she researches ways to counter the effects of vampirism. But I wasn’t aware of this!”

“ Astarion! ” Shadowheart let out in sheer outrage. “What in the Hells is wrong with you?”

He ignored her remark, eyes fixed on you.

He was mad.

No.

He was furious.

Up until this point, you had only ever witnessed him protect Ava and vouched for her integrity, but it seemed that he was no longer interested in upholding his defence. 

“She told me she would tell you of this as she only recently found out about it.”

“To Hells with that!” he snarled. “Did you agree to that arrangement?”

Silence

But that was answer enough.

“You should have told me!”

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. “You never listen to me when it comes to her!”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is different!”

“How?!”

Crimson eyes locked with yours as he scowled deeply. “She involved you!”

His admission stunned you into silence.

It wasn’t all that common nowadays to witness Shadowheart succumb to her protective instinct to the point of no return.

But you could tell she was close to snapping when she approached Astarion, yellow flames dangerously swirled across her palms.

“Give me one good reason not to blast this Ava into oblivion,” she growled with ire. “Or you, for that matter.”

He gave her a mocking scoff. “Darling, I’d love to see you try.”

She smiled deviously and you knew it was time to intervene. 

You carefully placed your hand on her arm. “Shadowheart.”

She glanced at you almost in disbelief. “‘Shadowheart’? He’s out here dealing with dodgy people and putting us all at risk! Now she’s also involved with murdering people in Waterdeep?”

Astarion let out an exasperated groan. “What connection is there between the two, then?”

In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure.

Not yet, at least.

At this point, you were allowing your gut feeling to guide you, and it could very well blow up in your face if she turned out to be innocent in all of this.

However… the warning signs were too loud to ignore.

“I… don’t know yet.”

Astarion was glaring at you with pursed lips, and you vaguely wondered if he was upset with you, or if he was actually upset that his judgement had failed him when it came to Ava.

“You can bleed yourself dry if you wish, but not her ,” Shadowheart pressed in a low voice.

“I know .” he shot back.

She took a step forward, her face dangerously close to his. “Then you’d do well to remember that my respect for you has its limits. Do not cross them.”

You tugged at her arm again, trying to put some distance in between them.

“Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he said after a while with a scoff before turning around to leave. “I’ll be in my room.”

You tried to go after him, but Shadowheart held you firmly in place. “Let him go.”

It was hard to do so, but you nodded as you sat on a nearby chair.

“I know you care deeply for him, but this is beyond ludicrous.” she said with a heavy sigh.

Her voice was that of reason, so you couldn’t fault her for being so apprehensive.

“He would never harm me.”

And you would always stand by this as sure as the sun is to rise.

“Not consciously, but by dealing with this woman, he might have opened a door to great peril.”

You nodded, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “Wyll is running a few checks on some information she gave me. I guess we’ll find an answer soon enough.”

Shadowheart’s face softened every so slightly.

“Please exert caution with Astarion,” she said, grabbing your hand. “And I’m not talking about this in particular.

Oh.

“I don’t doubt for a second that he cares for you, but I don’t want to see you bound to nightmares,” she said in a whisper. “That is no way of living.”

You took a deep breath. “Things are fine between us.”

Unexpectedly, she let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure. My room is next to his and… well, let’s just say that I may have overheard him mumbling your name a few times…”

“What do you…”

Oh.

“So, just… be careful,” she pleaded as she gripped your hand fiercely. “I trust your judgement, but not his… especially not after this.

You felt your heart swell with affection for Shadowheart and you pulled her into a tight embrace, almost tearing up as you did so.

“Thank you.”

She rubbed your back affectionately and whispered, “I adore you.”

“So do I.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that standing outside Astarion’s room was almost part of a routine now.

After a few more seconds, she finally pulled back with a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell the Fists outside to inform Wyll of what’s happened.”

And it was also unnecessarily hard to reach out for that first knock.

You had waited a couple of hours before deciding on what to do.

Wyll hadn’t shown up yet and there was still no word from Waterdeep.

So, you took a deep breath and as you were about to rasp your knuckles against the door, a charming voice was heard, “I know you’re outside.”

Of course he did.

“Can I come in?”

A brief pause.“Be my guest.”

You turned the knob and rushed inside, clicking the door shut behind you.

As expected, the room was plunged in a candle-lit dimness as the curtains draped over the window kept the blazing sun at bay.

Astarion lay on his bed, resting against the headboard as he threaded his way along a piece of cloth with a needle, his eyes solely focused on the task at hand.

Your stomach turned and twisted in knots, and you realised you weren’t quite sure how to start the conversation.

A low chuckle was heard. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to simply stare at me, darling.”

The lightheartedness in his voice made you feel slightly at ease and you shook your head. “No. I suppose not.”

This time, he did meet your eyes briefly and your heart skipped a beat.“As dashing as I am, I’d rather hear what you have to say instead.”

Right.

You cleared your throat, taking careful steps towards him before taking a seat at the feet of his bed, mindful to keep a certain respectful distance.

“I should have told you about Ava earlier on when you asked me.”

“Indeed.”

He didn’t sound upset in the slightest.

If anything, there was a faint hint of strange calmness to his voice.

“As for Shadowheart…”

He let out a snort. “Please. The day she stops worrying about you is the day I’ll find her in a casket.”

You couldn’t help out a short chuckle as he was absolutely right. 

Still, you laced your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers. “I…” you began, before drifting off as uncertainty took place. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Astarion paused altogether and his crimson eyes were on you again.

“See, I do understand that reasoning,” he said, tugging at the thread that curled around one finger. “But considering the nature of your conversation with her, you should have told me right away.”

You nodded.

“As fruitful as my connection to her might prove to be, I cannot accept the deal you made with her.”

Your heart raced in your chest at how determined he seemed in his resolve. 

However…

“If what she says is true and someone is after us, this feels like a small price to pay.”

Astarion snipped the thread with a pair of scissors before setting his handiwork on the bedside table.

The look on his face could easily make the bravest men cower in fear.

“Nothing that involves you is a ‘small price to pay’,” he said, voice low and heavy. “It’s one thing for me to willfully provide my blood, and another for her to take advantage of you so blatantly.”

You frowned deeply. “She is also taking advantage of you, then.” 

“I can deal with her.”

Astarion had this tendency to sell himself short in terms of self-worth. At times, he was as confident as one could be, but the centuries of robbed autonomy and lack of genuine bond to others would often slip in and take hold.

He was probably not even aware of how easy it was for you to catch on to this, but you knew him well enough by now. 

“You don’t have to.”

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

It nearly shattered you to hear him put up his defences around you so unbelievably fast.

There was no need for that.

“Don’t ,” you nearly pleaded. “Please don’t assume I am trying to tell you what to do.”

Just as rapidly, his features softened ever so slightly. “I apologise.”

You vehemently shook your head. “I also apologise if my words came across as condescending.”

An unsettling silence took place.

His eyes roamed across your face and you felt more exposed to him than you had ever been even when fully naked in his presence.

Even though you felt comfortable and safe with him, there were times when you wondered if it was reciprocal.  

“Ava is not your concern,” he eventually said. “I will deal with her.”

You had no doubt he would.

It just saddened you that… “I know she was helping you out in more ways than one, even if I don’t particularly agree with the… method, so to speak.”

“Yet here you are, thinking that whatever bond I share with her is significant enough,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “I am using her as much as she is using me. But I never allowed for that to extend to you. Ever .”

You swallowed as his harsh words hit you.

“That was her first mistake – involving you.”

“I took the deal freely.” you said.

“You didn’t have to at all,” he retorted impatiently. “She needs me more than I need her. So, if she knows anything about someone coming after us, she will tell me and I won’t be kind when I ask her to.”

Fair enough.

“Will you still give her your blood?”

“It depends.”

You blinked. “On what?”

“On how the conversation goes,” he said with a shrug. “Though what I do know for certain is that I will not give her blood after feeding on you.”

An impending sense of dread rose inside you and you vaguely wondered if you had just fucked up.

Information was power, and you worried that she might not take it well now that Astarion was openly against her proposal. 

But to be fair, she did mention she would let him know about all of this. So, it wasn’t truly your fault that he didn’t take it well, was it?

In fact, it was very much on brand with Astarion.

His sense of loyalty to you was unwavering and transcended any arrangement the two of you had agreed to.

And that was a bond not easily severed, probably much to Ava’s dismay.

“You are off limits.”

It wasn’t a subtle warning by any means and it made your heart swell with warmth somehow. His protectiveness nearly rivalled that of Shadowheart, though you wouldn’t dare tell her this.

A faint smile curled his lips. “I have to thank you.”

You arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

He hesitated at first. “I know you mean well. I do know that.”

Oh, Astarion…

“You’re a better friend than I could ever have hoped for – or even deserve,” he went on. “It is hard at times to be vulnerable. I was never allowed to. For centuries I equated being vulnerable to being weak… even pathetic.”

You were unsure of how to respond, but you felt each word tug at your heartstrings in a way that you had only felt when he had confessed his feelings for you back in Moonrise Towers. 

“I’m still getting used to this…” He paused abruptly as if pondering his next words. “Allowing myself to feel all these emotions, I suppose.”

“You are more deserving than you think,” you said truthfully. “Give yourself some credit. You used to be bound to your selfishness when we first met. You didn’t care for others because no one ever cared for you.”

His face held an expression akin to hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. Breaking one’s protective shell didn’t come without discomfort, but it was worth it in the long run. 

Unconsciously, you shifted along the edge of the bed as the overwhelming urge to embrace him took over you at once. 

Still, you didn’t want to push it, so you halted once you were sitting right next to him, which earned an amused smile from him.

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

He reached his hand to grab the piece of cloth on the nightstand. The very same he had just been embroidering moments ago.

“Come here.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he tapped his thigh twice. 

Noticing your hesitancy, he repeated the motion until you gathered yourself, feeling a rush of heat pool at your cheeks.

“You do have a thing for keeping me waiting, darling.” he remarked playfully.

A chuckle made its way past your lips as you moved to settle on his lap, careful not to sit too close to his-

“Here you go,” he said, proffering what resembled a kerchief of some sort.

You took it in your hands, admiring its silky texture and mesmerising fusion of different shades of blue that swirled beautifully together until your eyes spotted the yellow-threaded embroidery sprawled along one corner.

Your name.

The needlework was impeccable as always.

Your eyes widened in sheer bewilderment as you remembered the last time he had offered you such a gift.“I – this is beautiful,” you managed to say. “The other one was a masterpiece as well.”

He chuckled tenderly. “The timing of my offering was rather inopportune on that day – I should have waited until we were back in camp.”

His words were sweet and caressed you like a lover, and you could feel yourself drawn more and more to him.

“May I?”

You nodded as he took the kerchief from your hands only to have it drape around your neck, his fingers tugging gently at both ends as his eyes met yours.

Oh.

Fuck.

You only had time to hastily hold on to the headboard with both hands for support as he pulled you in closer. “May I kiss you?”

It was an uncomfortable position to be in since you were trying to avoid his crotch at all costs.

“Where?”

His gaze dropped to your lips.

“Friends don’t do that.” you teased, but still inching closer to him.

“Darling ,” he began with a click of his tongue, rolling the edges of the fabric around each finger. “We haven’t been friends for quite a while now.”

And then he kissed you.

It was a hungry and urgent kiss and his tongue quickly slipped past your lips, causing you to instantly melt into him.

The softest moan escaped your throat as you felt a single fang nip teasingly at your lower lip.

Driven by pure instinct, you shifted along his thighs until you were pressed against his crotch.

He broke the kiss to let out a strained groan and you immediately lifted your hips, alarmed that you had gone too far.

But his hands immediately dropped to your waist, holding you in place. “Don’t.”

You met his lustful gaze. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. Please .”

He didn’t push you back against him, but you felt his fingers tease the waistband of your trousers. 

“Astarion…” you said, unsure if this was a good idea.

He tugged again, but more gently this tme. “We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.”

Oh, you were more than eager to carry on. In fact, you were desperate .

You bit your lip, torn between listening to reason or giving in to the moment.

The latter won by a landslide. 

You nodded and he masterfully undid the buttons and laces with one hand.

“Do you trust me?”

What an odd question from him. “You know I do.”

His thumb traced your jawline before grazing your lower lip and earning a sigh from you. “Can I trust you not to scream?”

“Scream? Why would I-”

Realisation hit you like a tidal wave and your eyes widened as words died in your mouth.

Oh.

Astarion smiled cheekily, patting your thigh, clearly urging you to slide off of his lap.  “Lock the door.”

You were still taken aback and didn't move an inch, staring into his crimson eyes instead as your heart drummed rapidly in your chest.

“Lock the door .”

It resembled a plea, which caused you to clench involuntarily from how desperate he sounded.

Swiftly slipping off his lap, you hurried across his room to turn the key below the doorknob until a click was heard.

By the time you turned around, Astarion had removed his shirt and you were rooted in place, utterly speechless.

He was a work of art. 

No words of praise would ever do him justice.

Your mouth had dropped slightly open and he chuckled deviously. “You’re free to stay there and gawk, but I’d rather have you on top of me.”

His teasing snapped you out of your trance-like state and you felt a stronger wave of heat flare across your face and rush down your body.

Your legs felt weak all of a sudden, but you found your way back to him as you always did.

In the end, all roads did lead back to him.

As if driven by an outside force, you quickly slipped out of your trousers, only leaving on your underwear which was already gathering a growing wet spot.

His stare was fixed on your lower half and you spotted the familiar outline of his cock strained in his own trousers.

He eased you back on his lap with a firm grip on your waist and a boyish grin on his lips. Your hands settled on his bare shoulders, still mindful to not lower your hips too much.

“So, my dearest friend… ” he said, adjusting the kerchief around your neck. “How often do you indulge in such activities with your other friends?”

You smirked playfully. “Not often enough.”

He mirrored your expression, fingers slowly undoing each button of your shirt. “Oh? I wonder who crosses your mind, then.”

You.

But he already knew that as his hands travelled down your chest, each breath allowing your shirt to part wide enough to expose your heaving breasts.

“Is it Wyll?”

“You and your obsession with Wyll,” you laughed as he slowly pulled the fabric to the side, exposing each breast at a time. “I’m starting to think you want him for yourself.”

His eyes left yours to gaze at a perky nipple. “The question is: would you be willing to share?”

You whimpered softly as his thumb traced the underside of one breast and you felt too tempted to press down against his erection just so you could comfort the throb in between your legs. 

“Of course… I’m all for sharing friends.” 

Once he began grazing your nipple, you had to grip his shoulders tighter to anchor yourself.

Your body undulated instinctively, earning a hum of approval from him.

“Would you let Wyll do this, then? As a friend, obviously.”

You were about to arch a brow at his question when you felt one finger pulling your underwear to the side, exposing yourself to him.

It was almost comical how soaked you already were.

You reckoned it was enough to take more than just his fingers.

“Would you let him, darling?”

“I–”

But your voice died in your throat as he ran a single cool finger along your folds, carefully avoiding the swell in between them much to your agony.

The shift in temperature was always something that took some time getting used to and you occasionally flinched as your body adjusted to his touch.

“Can I do this, then?” he asked in a low growl as he teased your entrance. “As a friend.”

You rolled your hips out of reflex and he sank into you with ease until he was knuckle-deep. 

“Gods…” you moaned in sheer relief, instinctively clenching around him.

He then pressed his thumb between your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he teased the pulsing swell. It wasn’t long until you began to slowly ride him, your eyes nearly fluttering shut.

“You can take more, can’t you?” he cooed, moving his hand to tease your other nipple. “I remember how eager you used to be for my cock.”

At this rate, he would make you come from his teasing words alone and with a single finger buried inside you.

“Astarion… don’t…” you moaned as you rolled your hips, urging him on. 

He needed to shut up…

You needed him to stop talking before-

He suddenly slipped a second finger and you lost your balance, pressing your breasts against his bare chest while seeking support from his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck.

“You have no idea how I longed to be inside you again,” he sighed, his fingers gripping your waist and guiding your sloppy rolls, eventually setting the pace. “My hands can never feel as divine as you do.”

Gods…

You shuddered violently as your moans quickly turned into sobs and whimpers, the wet lewd sounds filling your ears.

He pressed the heel of his palm against you, the delicious friction causing you to rake your  hand down from his shoulder and along his chest until he caught your wrist, pressing your heated palm against his hardened nipple.

Astarion immediately groaned and you felt him arch into you.

“Darling…” he moaned, pumping his fingers faster inside you. “Please look down.”

You were so out of it, that his words didn’t register at first, so you kept on riding him in between sobs, further teasing his nipple under your touch.

“Look down,” he repeated more firmly, nearly slipping out of you. “I want you to see the mess you’ve made.”

“ No-no-no … please…” you nearly cried in exasperation, moving your hips desperately against him.

“Then look down.”

You growled in pure frustration, somehow managing to pull back enough to have your eyes land on the hand in between your legs.

It was soaked down to his wrist, and you could see some of it beginning to drip, staining his strained bulge.

You felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment wash down over you and tried to bury your face in his neck again, but he gripped your chin with his fingers, halting you.

“Do not hide from me,” he said, slipping his fingers back inside as he stared into your half-hooded eyes. “This is one of the highest praises you can offer me.” And he proved his point by planting the softest kiss on your lips.

You immediately melted into his praise, realising just how lovely he could be…

The pent-up sexual frustration was at an all time high and you could feel the familiar coil in your lower abdomen reach the point of no return.

You wished you were strong enough to fight him back with snarky and witty replies, but your concentration was broken. 

“What about a third one?”

You didn’t care anymore.

You just wanted release.

It had been too long since he had made you come and you'd take anything he gave you at this point.

“Just…” you began, chasing after that high relentlessly. “ Just… ”

He had the nerve to chuckle at your frustration and you felt a third finger prodding at your entrance.

You could take it.

You would take it.

The fullness would most surely remind you of his cock and you needed it.

You were wet enough to accommodate him as he pushed through, earning a gasp from you followed by a shudder and a strained groan.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I highly doubt dear Wyll would get this reaction from you.”

“Gods… stop talking about Wyll as you’re inside me,” you managed to string coherents words together in between your moans. “Just… please…”

He pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek. “You always take me so well.”

How you wished it was his cock instead, stretching you even more and filling you deeper.

You were nearly there.

“Don’t scream, darling.” he teased as you rode him desperately. “We wouldn't want dear Shadowheart to overhear your wanton cries.”

Well, Shadowheart was already privy to the nature of your relationship with Astarion thanks to him and how he clearly didn't shy away from taking care of himself with others around.

Your mind was about to blank and you slid the kerchief from your neck, feeling the need to bite down on something as you reached your peak.

A few more hip rolls did the trick and one last stroke of his thumb along your folds managed to push you right over the edge.

Your contractions were so violent and strong at first you thought you might die from how hard you were clenching around him, your legs wobbling dangerously as you were drained of lifeforce with each blinding wave of bliss.

The piece of cloth in your mouth didn’t do much to muffle you as your climax tore throughout your body, but it was better than having nothing.

Astarion only slid out once you had slumped into his chest, barely able to keep your breathing steady.

Your knees gave out and you sank down against his crotch, earning a guttural growl from deep within him.

Shit.

You instantly slid off of him, worrying you had accidentally gone too far. “Astarion… I’m…”

He shook his head, the hand that was soaked in your wetness clawing at the front of his trousers as his eyes were pressed shut.

Oh.

“I’ll take care of this…” he let out a pained hiss.

Oh.

“I can just leave,” you mumbled. “I’m…”

His trousers were now undone and you could see his clothes cock faintly throbbing.

And he shook his head once again. “You can stay – you can watch… if you want to.” His words were coated in urgent lust. 

Your eyes widened at his proposition and you thought you might implode right there and then.

You had barely come down from your climax and the throbbing that had begun to subside was already about to match your quickened heartbeat.

“Or you can leave…” he said in a low and strained voice.

Oh, he was truly holding back…

“I… can stay.” you offered at once, sitting next to him and trying to ignore the lust that was building inside you once again.

This wasn't about you.

He quickly nodded and with a swift tug he freed his cock and you had to bite down hard on your lip at the mesmerising sight in front of you.

A single strand of precum dangled from the tip, already pooling on his lower abdomen. 

“Gods above…” he let out a sigh of relief, hips lifting from the mattress as he wrapped the hand drenched in your wetness around him. 

This was too hot to witness and you curled your hands into fists on your lap, wishing nothing more than to touch him again.

But you knew he needed this.

He needed to feel at ease with his body first.

His eyes met yours briefly before dropping to your chest and to your breasts as they heaved from your laboured breathing.

You removed your shirt, not wanting to obstruct his view and Astarion growled .

The pace was slow at first as he squeezed his cock, but he quickly picked up, mixing your wetness with his with each stroke.

He looked positively ethereal as his handsome face twisted in pleasure, lips parted and razor-sharp fangs peeking through. 

Should you say something? Should you praise him? Encourage him? Or would it be too much?

From what you remembered, he seemed to revel in your teasing words in moments of shared bliss, but how much of that was an act back then? Was he ever able to fully enjoy being with you?

In doubt, you chose to remain silent as you watched him bring himself closer to his own climax.

It didn't take him long to start mumbling your name in between heated pants and there was no way back now.

You were throbbing hard again, wetness spilling from you with each involuntarily clench. 

Your body was so ready for him… it was almost painful.

A thicker string of precum bridged his tip to his abdomen, and you nearly moaned, remembering its sweet taste.

He rolled his hips languidly, eyes never leaving you as he gripped the bedsheets under him with such force you reckoned me might tear right through the fabric.

That sparked newfound curiosity inside you.

Slowly, you leaned forward, shifting closer just to have your hand next to his without quite touching him, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.

I'm here… I'm with you, you wanted to whisper, but only heard the words echo in your head.

He groaned in response and, much to your surprise, he released the sheets and his fingers found you, intertwining them in yours as he held on to you. 

Your heart might have skipped several beats, you were no longer sure at this rate.

You had seen him reach his peak a handful of times before, but there was something different about the way he toppled over the edge this time.

He threw his head back against the headboard, straining his neck as his mouth dropped open, your name being the only intelligible word you could make out in the midst of hisses and groans. 

Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest that you feared you might not make it as he reached his peak.

His hips still momentarily and he covered his swollen tip with his hand and the first spurts of cum began to slip through his fingers before dribbling down to gather at the base and across his lower abdomen.

You held his hand formçy through his climax. Perhaps the first genuine one you had ever witnessed, which invoked an odd feeling of… delight?

For the second time in just a mere couple of days, the two of you held hands albeit seeking varying degrees of comfort and relief.

Beads of sweat rolled down his temple and covered his bare torso as he descended from his high and that was when his eyes met yours.

Your stomach turned and you felt the throb between your legs begin to ease with each passing second.

“Will you kiss me?”

His request took you by surprise, but you promptly shifted next to him until your face was close enough that your lips grazed his.

Only then did he let go of your hand and merely because he meant to hold your chin as he kissed you softly.

It carried neither urgency nor lust.

Just a pure display of silent  intimacy that strummed at your heartstrings more effectively than any other praise he could ever offer you.

You melted into his sweet touch and allowed your kiss to express the unspoken words you had yet to tell him.

I love you…

Whichever form of love it was, all you knew was that it felt right and love overdue.

You could feel him occasionally smile against your lips and there was not a single drop of doubt in you.

I love you.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, already mourning his touch.

“Shadowheart knows.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You had to hold back a chuckle. “She heard you – well, when you were… handling things after feeding on me.”

The most mischievous of smiles settled on his lips. 

“I thought you said you were quiet…”

“I was, darling,” he said before pecking your cheek. “For the most part, that is.”

You giggled and then stared at him in awe as his beauty increased tenfold from where you sat.

He was impossibly handsome.

“You’re so…”

“Charming?”

You rolled your eyes as he pressed his cool lips to your other cheek.

“Beautiful?”

Another kiss.

“You’re so… you.” you blurted out almost feeling embarrassed from how basic your praise was.

But it drew the biggest smile from him, and you mirrored it instantly.

“Well…”

You watched as his eyes dropped to his lower half and yours widened slightly at the obscene amount of cum was now dribbling down his sides in thick beads. His hand was still holding his now softening cock, fingers drenched in his own spend.

“That’s a lot…” you said.

He nodded, looking almost as perplexed as you were. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” and his voice trailed down.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

With a warm smile, you extended your hand, offering him the kerchief he had gifted you moments before.

He visibly winced. “No, darling. It would be nigh criminal to use such delicate fabric on this .”

Your smile widened. “Can I fetch you a towel then?”

“Please,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s rather messy here.”

You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before sliding off the bed and hurriedly slipping into your shirt and trousers and crossing the room.

The key turned in one swift move and you quickly left the room.

You were only able to take a few steps before a silhouette startled you.

Shadowheart.

She was leaning against the railing by the top of the staircase with folded arms and a quirked brow.

“Gods! You scared me,” you said, clutching at your chest. 

“Glad some of us are able to enjoy ourselves in such times.”

You swallowed hard. “Uh… we were just talking.”

She snickered humorously. “I suppose it’s a form of communication.”

An overwhelming heatwave spread across your face. Had you been that loud? Or had he? 

Then her expression turned serious. “Pull yourself together. We have visitors.” 

TBC

[simjaexy]

𝘼𝙩 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙀𝙣𝙙 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙉𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 | 𝙇.𝙃.

Pairing ⇀ Vampire! Lee Heeseung x Fem! Reader

Synopsis ⇀ After having trouble falling asleep, you decided to roam around in the mist darkness of the night, not knowing you were being followed by someone, or something.

Genre ⇀ Pure Smut, Strangers to ???

Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Choking, Biting, Dom! Heeseung x Sub! Reader, Public Sex (but no one sees), Rough Sex, Pain Kink, Blood, Cursing, (lmk if there’s any more!)

Notes ⇀ Might make a part 2 if needed..

Masterlist here

The night was cloaked in an eerie mist, the kind that seemed to whisper secrets to those brave enough to wander through it.

You lay in bed pondering with your thoughts, it’s not the first time you couldn’t go to sleep, and you don’t think it’ll be the last.

So, with your phone held tightly in your hand, you decided to take a solitary walk, feeling the cool, damp air wrap around you like a shroud.

The world was silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

As you walked deeper into the darkness, a strange sensation prickled at the back of your neck. It felt like you were being watched.

You ignored, occasionally turning around to see if anyone was following you, which no one was. You hummed a tune and took out your phone, thinking about calling one of your friends.

Just as you were dialing you suddenly heard rustling. That’s when you knew someone was following you.

You quickened your pace, the mist thickening around you, obscuring your vision. That’s when you noticed you were somewhere you didn’t know. You looked around frantically. There wasn’t anyone outside.

Suddenly, you stumbled, catching yourself on a low-hanging branch. When you looked up, there he was.

A boy who looked around your age, stood before you, his eyes glowing a deep, mesmerizing brown. His pale skin seemed almost luminous in the moonlight, and his presence was both terrifying and captivating.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The boy took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Lost, are we?” His voice was smooth, like velvet, sending shivers down your spine. You nodded, unable to find your voice.

The mysterious boy smiled, revealing a hint of his sharp fangs. “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he murmured, his tone a mix of warning and curiosity. “It’s dangerous.”

You swallowed hard, finally finding the courage to speak. “Who are you?”

His smile widened. “I am Heeseung. And you, it seems, have wandered into my domain.”

You took a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you want from me?”

Heeseung’s eyes softened, and he reached out a hand. “Perhaps just a companion for the night. Someone to share the beauty of the darkness with.”

Despite your fear, you felt an inexplicable pull towards him. There was something about Heeseung that was both terrifying and alluring. Against your better judgment, you found yourself taking his hand.

He slowly walked you to an alleyway, one that’s you’ve never seen before. You couldn’t help but gulp hard at the feeling of his pure cold hands touching your warm ones.

“W-Where are we going?” You croaked. Heeseung simply gave you a smile, one that had reasoning behind, “You wanna get back home don’t you?”

You didn’t know what to say, your mouth opening and closing. He continued leading you inside the alleyway.

You didn’t know why you let yourself take his hand, maybe it was because he warned you, or maybe cause he was handsome.

Heeseung surely stopped causing you to hit your body against his broad back.

He was breathing deeply through his nose. He slowly looked at you as if he was trying to figure something out.

You stood there unable to move, scared that if you move an inch he’ll do something. Instead, he cupped your face, “You’re bleeding.”

Before you can speak he picked up your hand. There, trickling down your hand was blood. Your eyebrows furrowed. You didn’t even feel the blood.

Heeseung examined it before looking back at you, his eyes glowing a bright red. You felt your legs began to shake as fear suddenly consumed you. He was a vampire?

You tried to shake your arm away from his grasp, but he squeezed tighter. He suddenly pinned you against the brick walls.

You gasped at the feeling of his hand grabbing yours and staring at it.

“Please.” Was all he said. You watched his chest breathe heavily. He must have been starving with the way he was impatient.

You didn’t know what came over you when you suddenly put your hand against his lips.

“H-Here.” You mumbled.

He didn’t think a second thought before licking the blood off your hand, savoring the taste of your sweet blood.

His eyes were closed and up close he looked ethereal. You whined when pushed your harder against the wall.

“Fuck, I need to taste all of you.” He whispered. You didn’t have time to say something as he turned you around.

You gasped at the feeling of the cold wet wall and the way Heeseung gripped your neck from behind.

“Wait H-Heeseung-“

“You’re so pretty.” He muttered in your ear, “And your blood taste so good. I need you now.”

The contact of his hand suddenly rubbing your core caused you to arch your back and let out a cry.

He impatiently dipped his hand in your sweats and underwear, beginning to rub your folds.

You moaned feeling his long thick fingers play with your clit, feeling already overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure he was giving you.

You felt his harsh breathing against your ear making you grind back on him. He cursed under his breath before unzipping his pants, taking out his girthy dick.

He pulled down your sweats just under your ass and stroked his dick along your folds. You mewled when you felt him slowly going back and forth. You turned to look over at him the best you can.

“Please Hee. P-Put it in.” You sighed. Heeseung didn’t need another word.

Slowly he sunk his long dick into you, your eyes rolling back feeling him fill you up so good.

He didn’t start at a slow pace, instead he began going at an inhuman pace. The sound of wet skin slapping and moaning filling the cold air.

He moved your hair away from your neck and licked a long trail on your neck. You breathed out feeling his fangs grazing over your neck.

You backed down on his dick, feeling yourself get more wet, “Heeseung I-“

You got cut off with the feeling of needles piercing through your neck causing you to scream and thrash around. Heeseung held you still, groaning at the feeling of finally fully tasting your blood.

You cried out at the pain and pleasure you were receiving, not even noticing your orgasm coming until his fangs let go of your neck.

“Fuck your pussy is so wet. Want my cum? Yeah?” He breathed out. You frantically nodded your head.

He chuckled darkly before giving out four more thrust before finally filling you up.

You sighed out and held your stomach. With him so deep inside you, you could feel his cum everywhere.

As he pulled out his dick, you felt his cum slowly dripping out of your wet pussy. He hummed at the sight of it, “I’d like to see that everyday.”

You were too tired to say anything. Heeseung noticed your state and helped your pull your sweats back up.

You whined at the sticky feeling between your legs when all of a sudden you felt yourself being picked up.

You gasped and wrapped your arms around Heeseung, “Where are you taking me?”

“Back to my house. Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” He spoke.

As he led you deeper into the night, you couldn’t help but wonder what secrets this vampire held, and what the night had in store for you.

[kingkaizen]

𝓭𝓪𝓭!𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓲 𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓼

∘ desc: various scenarios of nanami being a father to your shared daughter <3

∘ ft: nanami

∘ includes: cuteness overloads

First Night back from the Hospital

The faint sound of cries could be heard from all the way across the hall to your shared bedroom with Nanami. You shifted your body to face him, watching the way his face scrunched up as the noise got louder.

“Kento?” You quietly whispered, trying to lure him out of his sleeping state. He grunted in response, threatening to turn his body the other way before your hand shot out to grip his shoulder.

“Please go get her.”

“Baby, you were up first!”

“Were you the person who had to carry her for 9 months and give birth on top of that?! I could’ve sworn that was me.”

Nanami grimaced, memories flooding through his mind of how painful it looked at the time. He didn’t remember much, ultimately passing out before it was over.

Your baby cried out again, practically screaming as she waited for someone to comfort her. Nanami groaned, lifting himself from the bed to trudge towards her room. You smirked to yourself as he walked away, quickly falling back to sleep. At the sound of the door opening, she quieted down a bit, still however crying hysterically.

His hands shook as he grabbed her softly, lifting her light body into his arms to cradle her. She immediately calmed down, cooing as Nanami began to rock her.

“Shhh, Alora. Why are you crying?” Nanami spoke in a low voice, trying to imitate the way you did it back in the hospital. “Do you want to know why we named you that?” He stuck his finger out at her, watching as she tried her best to wrap her small, lithe fingers around it.

“Well, Alora means “my dream”. That’s what you are to mommy and I. We dreamed about having a sweet little girl like you for so long.” Nanami watches as Alora’s eyes close slowly, finally slipping back to sleep. He held her a bit longer, admiring how beautiful she looked in his eyes. She was the perfect mixture of the two of you, the best features gracing her adorable face. After meeting you, he’d never thought that he’d feel so in love with anyone else other than you.

Alora proved him wrong. 

First Words 

“Please, ‘lora? Just open your mouth.” Nanami hovered over your daughter sitting in the highchair, trying to force her to. She refused to budge, opting instead to turn her head away from the small spoon.

You could hear Nanami sigh as he dropped the spoon on the tray. Alora giggles at the clattering noise, kicking her small legs around in excitement. You rise from your seat on the couch, making your way over to a frustrated Nanami.

“It sounds like you need some help here..” Nanami nods his head, handing you the spoon.

“She never seems to ever listen to me when it’s time for her to eat. What am I doing wrong?” The doubt in his voice is extremely apparent. Lately, he’s been needing a lot of reassurances about how he’s helping you to raise her.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Ken’. She usually eats when I feed her because I interact with her at the same time.” He watches as you tickle her feet, prompting her to laugh while you slowly place the spoon in her mouth. She swallows happily, opening up her mouth for more while you hand the spoon back to Nanami.

He takes it from you, copying your movements. She finally eats from him, swallowing completely before babbling on about who-knows-what. You step back to let Nanami take over. Your body warms as you watch them interact with each other, your heart practically bursting out of your chest at the sight. 

He soon finished feeding her, rushing to collect a rag to clean off her face. He lifted her up from the highchair, carrying her to sit on his lap on the couch. You followed him, sitting down next to him and placing your head on his shoulder.

“Mommy and daddy loves you, sunshine.” He cooed, bouncing her on his leg as she giggled. His phone rang suddenly, causing him to wrap an arm around Alora’s waist to keep her in place while he fished his phone out of his pocket. 

“Hello?” You couldn’t hear the other end, only understanding what’s going on by Nanami’s responses.

“Are you sure you can’t get anyone else…..okay, i understand.” Nanami exchanged goodbyes before hanging up, sighing while placing Alora on your lap. 

“I’m so sorry my love, Satoru needs my help, it sounds urgent.” You nod your head, grudgingly accepting a kiss from him as he stood up. He kneeled down to place a quick kiss to Alora’s forehead. 

“I love you ‘lora. Daddy will be back later, okay?” He kissed her once more before walking away in the direction of your bedroom. Not even five seconds later, you faintly hear Alora’s voice as she faces the television.

“What was that, baby?” She giggled in response before repeating herself.

“Da Da.”

You froze in shock, brain slowly processing what she said.

“KENTO!”

Nanami dashed back to the living room, his hero outfit already completely on while he looked at you worriedly.   

“WHAT’S WRONG?”

“Alora just said her first words!”

“You’re kidding me...I missed it?” He faced his daughter, smiling wide. “Can you repeat that for me?” She giggled instead, pulling at his hair as he groaned for her to stop.”

“Alora, what did daddy tell you about pulling his hair?”

“...da da?”

Nanami’s eyes went wide in shock, looking at you in disbelief.

“S-She really said it?” You could see obvious tears welling in his eyes as he gazed at her. 

“I knew she would say my name first.”

Shopping

“Honey, please don’t touch that!”

Nanami turned away from the shelves, pulling Alora away from the colorful box of cereal that entranced her. He turned back around, forcing himself to look away while her lips trembled, eyes watering as an indicator of the storm that’s about to come. Not long after she threw her head back, plopping herself to the ground and began sobbing dramatically in the middle of the supermarket. Nanami’s face fell, picking her up to try to calm her down. She cried even more, making Nanami completely freak out as he frantically looked around for anything to make it stop.

“Shhhh, please stop crying sweetheart. I’ll do anything-” Nanami’s eyes caught the cereal box from before, quickly grabbing it and showing it to her. She immediately calmed down as her wailing turned into hiccups. Nanami held her in his arms, caressing her face to wipe away the lingering tears.

“Is there anything else you want, cutie?”

*****

“Kento, I asked you to buy three things...what is all of this?!”

You pulled out the colorful cereal, reading the description. “It’s...just marshmallows. Nanami, you want to feed our daughter candy for breakfast…”

“I couldn't say no to that face, love. I hate it when she frowns..”

Alora had Nanami completely wrapped around her finger, and she knew it.

Playing Together

“Daddy pleaseee?”

Alora was tugging on Nanami’s leg, trying her best to pull the tall man away from his computer. He didn’t budge at all, his eyes completely glued to the screen in front of him as he tried his hardest to work on his work reports from home. You had to go to work today and Nanami was off, leaving him alone with Alora. He loved spending quality time with her, except when he had loads of work yet to be completed. He groaned once again, looking down at her defeated form.

“Sweetheart, didn’t I tell you to give me five minutes?!”

“I can’t tell time yet, no fair!”

He was exasperated at this point. Looking down at her again, he could see how upset she looked as she sat on the ground at his feet. He sighed, closing all of his tabs before turning off the computer completely.

“Fine, I’ll play with you. Only for an hour though.”

*****

...It’s been three hours.

Nanami’s hair is completely tangled up around various butterfly clips and bows. Alora was now busy working on his makeup, stealing your lipstick and eyeshadow to use on her compliant father.

“Sunshine, I don’t think the red stuff is supposed to go on my eyebrow..” Hikari did it anyways, pasting the lipstick between the bridge of his eyebrows to connect them together. After messing around a bit, she stepped back to admire her work. 

“Daddy! You look so pretty!” She smiled brightly at him as she handed over the compact mirror from your bathroom. He gazed at himself, completely horrified at what she did to him, but masking all of that in a smile. 

“You did such a great job ‘lora!” He encouraged her as much as he could, taking out his phone to snap a quick picture of the two of them to send to you. Afterwards, Alora gathered all of the makeup supplies. 

“Stay right there!” She trotted away to the direction of her bedroom, coming back with princess polishes that you had bought her for christmas months ago. 

“Angel, you told me you’d let me go back to work after that.”

“Pleaseee just let me paint your nails, then I’ll be done.” She looked up at his face, pouting her lips.

How could he ever say no to her?

Talent Show

The bustling auditorium was full of parents trying to find seats as the talent show was minutes away from starting. You arrived just on time, Nanami practically speeding through cars just to make it to his baby’s first show. The two of you were incredibly excited when Alora said that she wanted to participate this year. She was always singing, so you’re glad that she wanted to show her talent off to her classmates.

You found an empty seat towards the front, dragging Nanami with you through the aisle. The show was finally starting. Kid after kid came out to perform their various talents, always being greeted with applause right after. Finally, Alora came out in her cute little pink dress that Nanami picked out. Nanami’s eyes visibly lit up when he saw his little girl walk across the stage, looking as beautiful as her mother. He quickly pulled out his phone to record. The room was completely quiet as she sang, her adorable little voice being heard all across the room. She was singing her little heart out, completely getting into the moment as she hit the climax of the song. Nanami’s free hand grabbed yours and squeezed, all of his emotions at the moment being sucked into that one touch. At this point, he was barely holding himself together. You had to take the camera from him to finish recording her due to his constant shaking as he tried to hold back tears. She finally finished her song as everyone in the auditorium clapped for her.

*****

As the talent show finally ended, all of the kids who participated stood on the stage in a row to take a bow together. Soon she was released, quickly scanning the crowd of parents for you guys. Alora spotted you, her legs running towards her father with outstretched hands as he picked her up into his arms. Nanami’s face was damp, a direct indicator of the tears that dawned on his face not too long ago. Seeing a man as strong as Nanami getting emotional over something like this was so adorable. 

“I’m so proud of you, sunshine.” Nanami mumbled into her shoulder, pulling apart to kiss her all over her face. She giggled at the attack, pushing his face away from hers to spare herself.

“Let’s go get ice cream, sweetheart. You deserve it!” Alora smiled at your suggestion, taking both of your hands in her little ones as all of you walked towards the car.

“Daddy! Was I bad? Is that why you cried?”

“No baby. Daddy is a crybaby when it comes to you, it’s because of how amazing you did.” You teased Nanami as he lifted her up into the car, ensuring that she's completely strapped in before closing it. Nanami swears to buy her all the ice cream in the world for the performance she put on, making this the happiest day in her life.

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

[its-not-that-weird-blog]

"Wondering Why"

Luke Hughes x Reader

Summary: During a summer morning, Luke wonders how he got so lucky with you

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

A/N: This is a very short blurb, but hope you like it! As you can tell, my favorite boys are Lukey and Matt :) Sorry if there is any mistake, english is not my first language <3

Inspired by "Wondering Why" - The Red Clay Strays

Luke woke up to the soft rays of sunshine peeking through the window. The summer air lingered around the lake house that the Hughes family and their friends had fallen in love with. Luke glanced down at your sleeping figure and took a deep, satisfied breath at the sight.

You two met last year when he moved to Jersey, both of you bumping into each other at a frat party held at the end of the semester. Since neither of you are particularly fond of parties, you talked until your friends dragged you back to your dorm. Before you left, he got your number, and the two of you texted each other all summer, counting down the minutes until you could return to Jersey.

When you both got back, the first thing Luke did was ask you out on a date, and of course, you said yes. The date involved playing mini golf, where Luke taught you how to hit the ball. It was a very fun experience that brought you closer than ever. After that, Luke took you to his apartment, ordered takeout, and put on a movie, though it was quickly forgotten as the two of you ended up talking about anything and everything.

At the end of the night, when Luke dropped you off at your apartment, he nervously asked you to be his girlfriend. Without a moment of hesitation, you said yes. How could you not? You had fallen for him during those late-night conversations on FaceTime and the endless stream of messages you exchanged over the summer. Every word, every laugh, every shared secret had brought you closer, and by the time you were back in Jersey, it was clear that something special had blossomed between you two. As he smiled in relief and leaned in for a gentle kiss, you knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful.

He smiled at the memory and pulled you closer. You squirmed at the gentle touch and slowly opened your eyes, greeted by the soft morning light. Looking up with a sleepy smile, you cuddled even closer to Luke, nestling your face into the warmth of his neck.

“Good morning, sweet girl,” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and tender.

“Morning,” you replied, pressing a sweet kiss to his bare chest. You looked up again, only to meet those precious greenish-blue eyes that seemed to hold the depth of the ocean. “Why are you staring at me like that?” you asked, your cheeks flushing with warmth.

Luke’s gaze softened as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “I’m just wondering why someone as amazing as you chose to be with me,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of awe and gratitude. “Every time I look at you, I’m reminded of how lucky I am.”

Your blush deepened, and your heart swelled with affection as you realized that in his eyes, you were everything he could ever want. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the cozy comfort of the morning, where nothing else mattered but the love that had blossomed between you. As you lay there in each other’s arms, the future felt bright and full of promise, a journey you were both eager to take together.

“I love you so much, you have no idea, Luke Hughes,” you whispered, your eyes locking onto his with a gaze full of sincerity and emotion.

“Oh, believe me, I love you way more, Y/N Y/L/N,” he replied with a soft smile before leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was tender yet filled with passion, a silent declaration of just how deeply he truly loved you. When you finally broke the kiss, your foreheads rested against each other for a moment, both of you savoring the closeness and the love that surrounded you.

You cuddled up against him again, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear as you nestled into his chest. The warmth of his embrace made you feel safe and cherished, as if the world outside could wait just a little longer. The morning stretched out before you, but neither of you was in any rush to move. Wrapped up in each other’s arms, you stayed there together, enjoying the simple bliss of just being, with no words needed to express what your hearts already knew.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

I'm thinking about starting to write request, if you would like that, you could dm and I will try :)

[miumura]

DANGEROUS ──── TAESAN ⋆.

"JUST MAKING MEMORIES" is something Taesan sent to you over text before he bolted out of the door. He knew he might get into trouble for sneaking out, but none of that mattered—he needed to see you. Trouble could wait; reuniting with you couldn’t.

PAIRING best friend!taesan x gn!reader GENRE fluff ∿ accidental confession ∿ WARNINGS inspired from “Dangerous” by BOYNEXTDOOR ,, one curse word ,, that is all i believe !! WORD COUNT 1.7K+ ( 1745 )

NEW MESSAGE taesan’s part has been stuck in my head so i had to write him to this ^^ i def have this song and mv on loop - it’s such a fun one !! so you can bet i ran to write this ASAP 🫡 shows that i am soso excited for their comeback :] !!

♫ ──── I never cross the line, trust me 𓂃 ⭑

Taesan had to be extra quiet tonight—he couldn’t afford to get caught by his parents, especially at this hour. But, he prided himself on being skilled at sneaking out, having done it countless times before. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and tonight, he was determined it wouldn’t be the night he finally slipped up.

Moving swiftly but cautiously across the creaky wooden floor, he kept his gaze fixed between his parents' room and the exit. His heart raced when he found himself in front of their door, which he slightly cracked open to confirm they were asleep. Sure enough, the car keys rested right where he expected—on the nightstand beside his father.

Taesan hesitated for a split second before slipping in, his steps light as air. He reached for the keys, careful not to disturb the silent house or the sleeping figure. With a smooth motion, he grasped the keys without causing a single jingle. Without wasting a second, he darted back towards the entrance, his light footsteps barely audible, a small grin tugging at his lips.

So far, everything was going according to plan.

Maybe telling Taesan you were finally back from your two-week trip at 2 A.M. wasn’t the brightest idea. If you had known he’d spam you with texts filled with excitement and then decide to show up at your place right in the middle of your unpacking, you might’ve held off on sharing the news. But truth be told, you were just as eager to talk to him. After spending weeks messaging back and forth, you couldn’t resist letting him know you were home—especially with him counting down the days until your return like a personal calendar.

Even when you tried to convince him to wait just a few more hours to meet, Taesan was already set on seeing you right then and there. There was no talking him out of it.

He just couldn’t wait to see you again.

“Hey, I’m here!!!!” Your phone buzzed with a notification as you were halfway through putting away your clothes, causing you to chuckle.

You debated ignoring Taesan for a bit longer to tease him, but when his texts quickly escalated to threats of ringing your doorbell—fully aware that your parents were likely fast asleep—you had no choice but to give in.

Dropping the shirt in your hand, you rushed down the stairs, determined to stop him. When you opened the door, you were greeted by Taesan’s slight smirk, which soon blossomed into a wide grin. Before you could even say anything, he swept you into a tight hug, holding you close as you instantly melted into his embrace.

You hadn’t realized just how much you missed his hugs until now.

Finally breaking from his embrace, you took a moment to study the familiar features you had only seen through FaceTime. It hit you that this moment was real—you were finally back, standing in front of Taesan again. Your eyes soon trailed down to his outfit, and you couldn’t help but let out a series of small chuckles.

“Did you roll out of bed when I texted you?” you teased, pointing at his pants, which were covered in random, colorful designs.

He followed your gaze and stared at his pants—decorated with bizarre patterns you couldn’t even describe. Taesan let out a laugh, though his slightly flushed cheeks and the way he scratched the back of his neck betrayed his embarrassment.

“Hey, to be fair, you texted me at two in the morning.”

“You could’ve worn jeans or something,” you quipped.

“At least I put on a hoodie—besides, you're in pajamas too!” he pointed out, causing you to giggle as he finally noticed.

“Not as weird as yours,” you shrugged. “Anyway, it was nice seeing you—you should go back now.”

You gave him a slight push toward the direction of his house, but Taesan didn't budge, instead staying put with an odd grin that sent a chill down your spine.

“Not yet,” he said, pulling out car keys from his pocket and jingling them in front of you. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you glanced over his shoulder, spotting something you should’ve noticed earlier—his parents' car, parked right there. You whipped your head back to Taesan, who let out a laugh at your reaction.

“So, you’re telling me, not only did you sneak out, but you took their car too?!” you exclaimed.

“Technically, it’s supposed to be my car too, so… why can’t I?” he shrugged, still grinning like he hadn't just committed a minor crime (dramatic much?).

“You’re going to get into trouble, Taesan,” you warned, though you couldn’t help but smile at his boldness. This was classic Taesan—reckless, spontaneous, and a little too daring for his own good.

“Not if we don’t get caught,” he smirked.

“What do you mean we—” Before you could finish your sentence, Taesan grabbed your arm and pulled you toward the car. Without much choice, you found yourself sliding into the passenger seat, watching him confidently start up the engine. You shot him a side-eye as the car turned on loudly.

“You’re not going to drag me into your mess if you get into trouble… are you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“That won’t happen, don’t worry,” he said with a grin, glancing over at you. His casual reassurance didn’t ease your nerves, but something about his energy made you believe him. Even though this seemed reckless and dangerous, there was something thrilling about it, something that made you forget to be cautious.

“Even if it does happen… this better be worth it,” you muttered, glancing at him as he pulled away from your house.

“Making demands now?” Taesan snickered, his hand reaching for the volume knob as he slowly turned up the music you both liked. You hummed along with the familiar melody as he drove, and soon you began to recognize where you were headed.

When you finally arrived at the familiar, secluded spot, a smile crept onto your face. It was the hangout place—the place. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, just an old rooftop in an abandoned part of town, but it held so many memories for you both. Hours spent talking under the stars, laughing about nothing, escaping reality together—it was your safe haven.

“I missed this place,” you quietly exclaimed, staring out of the window as nostalgia washed over you.

“I’m glad you do,” Taesan replied, pulling the car into a spot nearby and shutting off the engine. He turned to you with a soft smile. “It was boring without you here.”

“I would’ve expected so,” you teased with a grin, pushing the car door open and stepping outside. Taesan shook his head at your comment, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You both started walking along the rocky path, the crunching sound beneath your feet breaking the quiet, but in a way that felt calming. As you neared the old, cracked steps leading to the rooftop, Taesan reached for your hand, his familiar words slipping out as if by instinct, “Watch your steps.”

He always said it every time, a small gesture of care that never failed to warm you inside. You gave his hand a small squeeze in response, feeling a comfort that only Taesan could bring—a comfort that had remained constant even after weeks of distance.

It didn’t take long for you two to reach the rooftop, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief when you saw that the mat you’d left last time was still there. With a soft sigh, you sat down, sinking into the familiar comfort of the spot. Taesan followed suit, settling down beside you.

You both gazed up at the night sky. Though it wasn’t lit up with as many stars as usual, the cool, crisp breeze seemed to make up for it.

You two chatted for what seemed like for decades, with the amount of endless topics you two managed to bring up. As much as you wished for this moment to last forever, your mind somehow went back to the thought of what time it could be.

“It’s probably so late right now,” you mumbled, still not bothering to check your phone for the time. “You really shouldn’t have stayed up.”

“Why not?”

“I told you I’d be back late,” you replied, turning to glance at him. “You shouldn’t have waited.”

“I still wanted to see you,” Taesan said without hesitation.

“Why?” you asked, your voice quieter now, more curious than anything.

“Because I like you.”

His words hung in the air for a few seconds, both of you processing what he had just said. Taesan’s eyes widened slightly as if the confession had slipped out by accident, and the shock that hit both of you was almost palpable. Neither of you spoke at first, the cool breeze suddenly feeling much more intense as you stared at him in surprise.

Neither of you could find the words to say next. Taesan turned his head slightly, eyes flicking to the ground as if it could offer him an escape from the awkwardness that had suddenly settled between you. His hands fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie, a nervous habit you’d seen before, though it had never felt so intense.

You stared at him, trying to make sense of what just happened. The cool breeze brushed against your skin, and yet, your body felt warmer. You wanted to say something—anything—but the words were lodged in your throat, stuck between surprise and the realization that this wasn’t just a passing comment.

His confession was still hanging in the air, echoing in the silence between you two.

Taesan shifted uncomfortably, his gaze still fixed on the ground. He finally took a deep breath, but even then, his words faltered. “Uh, I didn’t—” he started, then stopped, his face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty.

You swallowed, trying to calm the sudden rush of emotions that had washed over you.

"You know... Taesan, I feel—" you began, but your words were suddenly interrupted by a loud buzzing from Taesan's pocket. He immediately reached for his phone, and both of you glanced down at the screen. The name "Dad" lit up brightly, sending a jolt of panic through the air.

Both your eyes widened in unison as reality hit. Taesan's face that was once filled with anticipation became paled, and you could feel the tension shift.

There was a brief, terrifying silence before he muttered,

"Oh fuck."

💬 : prepare for more bnd works ( hopefully ) i love them sm

𝓑OY𝓝EXT𝓓OOR 𝓟ERM 𝓣AGLIST IS 𝓞PEN!

PLEASE SEND AN ASK OR COMMENT TO JOIN ♡

[azullumi]

“withering desires of a cruel man with broken confessions” ; aventurine

to you : 🧀 nonnie !! i hope you had a wonderful birthday and i’m sorry for taking a long time to finish this but hey, it’s done now (finally). belated happy birthday and i wish you all the best <33

premise — his belief that he doesn’t deserve the good things is rooted deeply underneath the dirt where he buries his corpse, and he doesn’t deserve you; this is an ode to clementia and he wishes that his song reaches you.

tags — w/ gender-neutral reader, fluff to angst, friends to friends that knows they like each other, orange as a metaphor for love, angry and forced love confessions, aven my self-sabotage and mixed signals king, 1.5k ; one-shot

note — made while listening to phoebe bridgers, faye webster, adrianne lenker, and ichiko aoba. this was supposed to be a short drabble about peeling oranges and sharing with them what happened

They say clementines are a symbol for mercy—gentle, soft, and sweet, like an echo of the sun. 

There’s the fresh smell of citrus in the air as he delicately pulls its skin to reveal its form, a warm burst of sunset trapped within its fragile walls, and his nails will be tainted by the color of its penance and he’ll forget what it feels like to only have hatred in his heart. Maybe that’s how forgiveness tastes; salvation will fill his blood as he sheds tears that carry his sins (they were never his).

“I don’t know how you can do that flawlessly.” You say, your voice drenched in wonder and amazement as you watch the movement of his fingers, adeptly peeling the fruit. The sections come apart neatly and perfectly in his hands.

He smiles, “It’s easy.”

“It’s not.” You insist, reminding him of the horror of the state the orange has become when you tried to share it with him. “Did you see the holes I tore through it? I was left with nothing but the mere coat because the juice sprayed in all directions.”

The sound of laughter forms in his throat and escapes, “It’s because it was small and the skin is hard. Come on.” He holds a small piece near your face and you part your lips open enough for him to feed you; a warm feeling resides in your cheeks as you chew. There’s a burst of sweetness, with hints of sourness that lingered in its nature in your mouth—it reminds you of the night when he held your form and gently guided you to the melody of the song. 

“Is it sweet?” He asks, his head tilted a little to the side as he bores his gaze at you. There are lingering touches, whispered honey-coated words, affectionate gestures, and eyes painted of different vivid hues and contrasting pristine tones that never seem to hold the light, only reflecting your form within. You hum, nodding your head as you answer, “You should teach me how to peel them, you know. I don’t want to be calling you everytime or having to rely on you too much.”

(Truthfully, and hopefully so, may you never learn so he’ll get to be this close to you always.)

He smiles, sunshine peeking through his expression, “I wouldn’t mind.” He wouldn’t mind if it were just a small matter or nothing at all, you can keep on calling for him, ask for his assistance or simply just his presence—he’ll come running to you. He whispers, “Use me as you wish,” and his words shatter as it falls to the ground. (See him as a tool that has never known its purpose. See him as worthless but mere dust that covers your window sills. See him as nothing but a fool who never understood the lines in his heart.)

You say, “You know you’re not just as little as that to me.”

“Then what am I to you?” The comfort of silence settles in the gaps of his fingers and he finds himself seeking, waiting, with bated breath. His gaze seems to still at your eyes before falling to your lips, lingering for a few moments before meeting your eyes once more, and your hands tremble; you know the answer, you know what to say, you know, you know, you know, you know—and, at once, there’s the warm feeling of his lips on yours as you pull him in, as he pulls you in.

It’s gentle, soft in all of its edges and cracks. He holds your face in his hands and you intertwine yours in his locks, and you pull at his hair, eliciting a hum from him. It’s a burst of warmth, the taste of something sweet still left in your tongue as he kisses you. It’s short yet it will be engraved and buried in the depths of your mind for eternity.

“I like you.” You whisper against his lips as you part, eyes heavy on each other yet his gaze wavers and his breath shudders.

“I…” Why else would he continuously seek your embrace? Why else would he prefer to be alone with you even if it’s just silence between you and him (your presence alone brings him comfort)? Why else would he take such time to understand your form and cradle your being as if you were born from glass? He didn’t have your hands carve the shape of his thoughts into the form of your being just so he wouldn’t capture the feeling of your touch on his skin and how he craves, yearns for it like a starved man—and yet, he’ll hold his head down in humiliation as he looks for the words on the ground. He’s worthless, useless, nothing like his ‘luck’ that seems to curse everyone around him, and you’re everything he’s not. “I’m sorry.”

His hands fall from your cheeks and he stands up, saying, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” 

The chair screeches beneath him; his thoughts remain silent yet deafening, your voice fading into white noise as you call for him. He has to leave—each of his footsteps are heavy, echoing back to him as if a semblance to contempt and mockery that trails his wake.

Fear and shame forms at the bottom of his lungs. What even is he afraid of? Is it the lack of experience? The fear of abandonment? But humans are not strangers to those thoughts, people are bound to leave and Aventurine wasn’t unfamiliar with that, so how could he be afraid of something that has become a friend to him? Maybe it’s when he’s torn apart from flesh to bones and they’ll see there’s nothing in him—he was born out of barren wastelands and dust, his form has been long since buried under the golden sands. Maybe it's when he’s shown everything to them and they seek for something that he doesn’t have; the disappointment that lies in their expression will forever haunt him. Was it fear or was it worry that nobody could ever love him for what he truly is? Behind the expensive clothes he wears, the shining and heavy jewelry on his wrist, the suffocating rings on his hand, maybe they prefer his skin tainted with letters instead of wounds that brands him as human.

“—Rine.” A hand grasps at his wrist, preventing him from leaving. He stills in his position, feet glued to the floor and his back turned against you. Your voice breaks, “Stay, please.”

He’s stuck, sutured to the ground, hesitation sewing his mouth shut. You urge him to turn around, your fingers tugging at him, so he could face you, so you could see him—he’s tattered, torn and conflicted over something you’ll never know. The unfriendly air of the cold night wraps around his figure, but your hand eases warmth and comfort in his weary bones.

“Why did you kiss me?” You seek for something in the gaps of his expression, looking for a falter in the lines of his features to know the thoughts that he hides beneath all the charades and facades.

“…It was a mistake.”

You answer, frustration slowly seeping into your tone, “You know damn well it’s not.” He knows completely well it’s not and it will never be. And you don’t cry nor plead, you beg with sore, trembling palms for an answer to soothe the disturbance of the waves that will come to swallow you, drowning you in the murky waters of your mind. “You don’t get to hold my hands and cradle me in yours and tell me it’s nothing. You don’t get to look at me in a way that is reminiscent of lovers and tell me it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t get to kiss me and say that it’s a mistake. You’re a cruel man, Aventurine, and you’re unfair for telling me that it was all nothing but a mistake when you haunt my dreams.”

“…I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes for a moment, darkness swallowing his vision yet his mind conjures an image of you in it, berating him. The broken pieces of your words are left scattered on the bottom of yours and his feet.

You ask, voice low, “Do you like me?”

“Why—“

“It’s a yes or no question, ‘Rine. Do you like me or do you not?”

“I love you.” His voice is raised and cracks start to form on the surface of his expression, “and it’s scaring me.” Forgive me. The clock continues to tick despite the world seemingly coming to a still at his words.

The air is suffocating and the silence sits on your shoulders before he says, whispering in a broken tone, “I’m leaving.”

And this time, you don’t stop him. His steps are rushed against the flooring, the sound of the door closing echoes throughout the corners of your mind. The walls of your home stand tall over you, his confession written and tearing through all over your wallpaper, screaming at you; you’re left crumbling on the floor. The sweet scent of citrus lingers in the air, the mess the two of you made still on the counter tops, and you wished you told him you love him too.

tagging @toorurs, the loveliest and sweetest of all. i hope you know that you're cherished and loved by me, and i'm so glad to have you and the sun that touches your skin must be too <33 always be reminded that you're beautiful and i appreciate everything that you do and say (you always make me laugh even when it's just the smallest and useless of things like wow you must have a special talent in making someone smile) !! thank you for always being there for me too and always cheering me up, and also making my day because everything for me nowadays is becoming unbearable and you're the only one that keeps me sane (fk exams and projects and research im going to cry)

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[mapiforpresident]

Most Likely To

Alexia x reader

warnings: none

~~~

It was currently almost Valentine's day, so Barcelona was having all the team couples do some short interviews to post on the actual day.

Alexia was not a fan of this, but she saw that you were excited, she reluctantly agreed. She wanted to maintain her professional captain persona, but she also knew that it was important for people to see that she was also a normal person at the end of the day and that it was ok for her to be dating a woman.

~~~

"Hey, how was your interview," you asked Mapi and Ingrid as they walked out of the media room. They had their interview right before yours.

"It was really good we had to see who knew each other better and Ingrid won. I forgot her first pets name." Mapi told you. "I think you guys are doing the who is mostly likely to challange. I am excited to see if we learn anything new about big tough Ale over here that we didn't know." You laughed at this agreeing that you would make sure the fans learn how much of a softie Ale is for you.

~~~

You and Alexia then walked into the room as the media people explained how it would work and set up your mics. The interviewer then got started facing the camera, "Ok today we have special guests Alexia and Y/n. Today they will be playing the who is most likely to challange. They each have a paddle with their face on one side and the others face on the back. I will ask some questions and they have to show the face of who they think it fits better. At the end we also have a couple questions sent in by fans. Let's get started with the first question.."

"Ok we will start off very easy. The first question is who is most likely to forget their boots at home?"

You both immediately held up the side of the paddle with your face.

"I may have forgotten them before the champions league final. Luckily someone had an extra pair in my size. Ale always asks me three times if I have my boots now before we leave the house." You responded laughing towards the camera.

"She is very forgetful, she even forgot her passport before a game onetime and had to fly in the next day. I definitely made her run extra laps for that." You definitely gave Alexia a few heart attacks from all the times you forget things.

"Who is most likely to cry during a sad movie?" the interviewer queried with a grin.

You both exchanged a glance. You raised Alexia face as she reluctantly did the same. It was no secret to you or the team that Alexia had a soft spot for emotional films, often shedding a tear or two during particularly touching scenes.

As the interview progressed, the questions delved deeper into your relationship, sparking laughter and fond memories between you and Alexia.

The interviewer grinned as she posed the next question, her eyes flickering mischievously between you and Alexia. "Alright, who is most likely to hog the blankets in bed?"

You both hesitated for a moment, exchanging playful glances before simultaneously flipping the paddles to reveal the others face.

You chuckled, nudging Alexia playfully. "Come on, admit it. You're the blanket thief."

Alexia raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, please. You practically cocoon yourself in the blankets every night."

As the interview drew to a close, the final question sent in by fans brought a sense of warmth to the room. "Who is most likely to surprise the other with a romantic gesture?"

Without hesitation, you both raised your paddles, a shared smile of affection passing between you. Despite the playful teasing and occasional disagreements, there was no doubt that your love for each other ran deep, evident in the small gestures of kindness and thoughtfulness that defined your relationship.

As the cameras stopped rolling, Alexia pulled you into a tender embrace, her voice soft with sincerity. "You know, despite my initial reservations, I'm glad we did this. It's nice to show the world a different side of us, to be able to share our love openly."

You returned her embrace, kissing her cheek lightly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the woman standing before you. "I couldn't agree more, bebé."

The fans absolutely loved the video and seeing this more personal side of Alexia and seeing more into your relationship.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aegon Targaryen - Treachery Among Dragons

Summary - In a dramatic clash of dragons and family loyalties, Aegon and his wife face betrayal from within. In the fiery chaos, hidden confessions, devastating secrets and cruel rivalries come to light, culminating in a heart-wrenching plea that could alter the course of their family's future.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Violence (injury?)

Word count - 2301

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

As Aegon fastened his armor, the determination on his face was evident, but I noticed the slight tremor in his hands, a small, telling sign of the fear he tried so desperately to conceal. 

My heart ached, knowing that beneath the armor, he was still the man I loved, burdened by the weight of a crown he had never truly desired.

"Aegon, do not take Sunfyre," I implored, reaching out to touch his arm gently. He dismissed me with a wave of his hand, his focus solely on the task before him.

"I need to show these people that I am just as important," he declared, frustration lacing his voice as he headed toward the dragonpit, where the weight of expectations loomed large.

"You are important, Aegon. You are the king," I pleaded, my voice catching with emotion. 

I tried to reach him, to make him see reason amidst the storm of ambition and pride that swirled around us. He paused, exhaling heavily, and turned to face me, his eyes a turbulent mix of frustration and affection.

"You, my dear wife, are the only one who believes in me," he said softly, though there was a bitter edge to his voice, as if he was unsure whether to trust even that. 

His hands trembled slightly as he cupped my face, and I knew that beneath his bravado, he feared the truth of his own inadequacy.

"Then let me accompany you," I insisted, stepping closer. I could feel the weight of his resolve, the struggle within him as he balanced the demands of leadership with his doubts and fears.

"No," he replied firmly, leaving no room for argument. His gaze held mine, a deep concern for my safety evident in his eyes.

Refusing to relent, I grabbed his arm, my grip firm and unwavering. "Let me come with you, or I will follow after you have left," I warned, my voice steady despite the fear churning in my stomach.

He sighed deeply, exasperation clear as he weighed my words. "Very well," he finally conceded, a reluctant acceptance of my insistence.

Urgency surged through me as I tugged on his arm, leading him toward our chambers. I couldn't risk him slipping away, leaving me behind to face the storm alone.

"I need assistance with my armor," I said, my voice steady but laced with the fear that if I didn't keep him close, he might leave without me. He groaned but didn't resist, following my lead.

"Do not think I will allow you to distract me," he cautioned, half-serious, half-teasing. Despite the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound tinged with nerves and affection.

"I wouldn't dare, my king," I teased gently, letting the laces of my dress slip through my fingers, the garment pooling at my feet in the corridor.

"Seven hells," he gasped, glancing around quickly to ensure we were alone before ushering me into our chambers. 

His concern for my privacy was endearing, a reminder of the intimacy we shared amidst the grandeur and chaos of our royal duties.

As promised, I did not seduce Aegon. Instead, I swiftly donned my armor. Each piece clicked into place, transforming me from a wife into a warrior. 

Aegon moved beside me, his armor gleaming in the dim light, and together we made our way to the dragonpit, the air thick with anticipation.

"Gevie," I greeted Silverwing as she approached, her silvery scales shimmering in the light. She responded with a gentle nuzzle, her warm breath a comfort against my cheek. Beautiful

I smiled warmly, feeling an overwhelming surge of pride and love as I watched Sunfyre affectionately nuzzle Aegon.

"To battle, then," I declared, mounting Silverwing with ease. Her powerful muscles tensed beneath me, coiling like a spring ready to unleash her strength. 

As we took to the skies, the world below shrank away, and the wind whipped past us like a roaring river. Our dragons' wings beat in rhythmic harmony, filling me with confidence. 

I glanced over at Aegon, who sat tall on Sunfyre, his expression a mix of fierce determination and underlying concern.

The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood as we soared forward. Below us, the ground was a patchwork of scorched earth and trampled bodies, the cries of the dying rising like a mournful dirge. 

The metallic taste of fear lingered on my tongue, mingling with the salty tang of sweat.

Arriving at Rook's Rest, Criston's army spread out below us, their formations scattering like startled ants at the sight of our dragons. 

The battlefield stretched before us, a chaotic tableau of swirling dust, fluttering banners, and the pungent scent of fear thick in the air. 

Rhaenys arrived with Meleys, her crimson dragon, and the three dragons, Meleys, Silverwing, and Sunfyre plunged into a fierce battle. Silverwing and Sunfyre's combined strength initially tilted the conflict in our favor, our dragons dancing through the skies with lethal grace, raining fire down on the enemy.

The dragons roared in unison, their attacks meticulously coordinated, each swipe of their claws and burst of fire adding to the chaos and destruction. 

The situation abruptly changed. From the distant horizon emerged Vhagar, a colossal shadow eclipsing the sun as she thundered into the fray. Aemond rode atop her, his visage a mask of relentless determination.

The sky darkened as Vhagar unleashed a torrent of blistering fire aimed directly at Sunfyre. 

Caught off guard, the golden dragon shrieked in agony as the flames engulfed him, his once-majestic wings now crumbling under the searing heat. Sunfyre began a devastating descent toward the earth, Aegon desperately clinging to his back.

The sight of Sunfyre's fall ignited a primal surge of rage within me. My eyes locked on Aemond, who had caused this devastation. 

"You treacherous bastard!" I shouted, my voice carrying across the battlefield, fueled by fear and fury for my husband's safety.

"Lykirī," I shouted as Silverwing quivered under the onslaught of Vhagar's assault. Calm.

"Sōvēs, Silverwing. Dohaerās," I continued, attempting to soothe her. Fly, Silverwing. Serve,

My attention quickly turned back to Aegon and Sunfyre as I saw them plummeting toward the ground. Abandoning thoughts of Aemond and Rhaenys, I directed Silverwing toward their crash site.

"Naejot! Paerī, paerī." I directed as Silverwing landed amidst the flames, the heat intense and suffocating. Forward! Slow, slow.

Sunfyre lay writhing in pain, his once-golden scales now charred and blackened. His agonized cries pierced the chaos around us, a heartbreaking lament for his own suffering and the loss of his strength.

Sunfyre, once a symbol of Aegon's pride, now mirrored the shattered confidence of the man who had ridden him. Silverwing's steady presence at my side was a reminder of the strength I had to summon, even as the world crumbled around us.

My heart hammered in my chest as I spotted Aegon's battered form beside him. Despite his injuries, he was alive. Relief surged through me, mingling with a potent cocktail of fear and despair. 

Sunfyre had shielded him from the worst of the fall, his tail sacrificing itself to cushion his impact, a testament to the bond between dragon and rider that transcended mere loyalty.

"Aegon!" I cried out, my voice raw with emotion as I dropped to my knees beside him. His eyelids fluttered, a faint glimmer of recognition in his pain-filled eyes. 

Gently, I cradled his head in my lap, my trembling fingers brushing away blood-matted hair from his face. Tears streamed down my cheeks unchecked.

"You're alive," I whispered, the words a prayer of gratitude to whatever gods might be listening.

"Are you alright?" Aegon managed to ask, his voice strained and weak. Despite his own precarious state, he was concerned for me.

"I'm alright," I replied, my voice catching as I tried to reassure him. My fingers traced the contours of his face, committing every detail to memory in case this was our last moment together.

As I cradled Aegon's head, memories of our early days together flooded my mind—the way he would pull me close in the dead of night, seeking comfort in my presence, the rare moments when he allowed his guard to fall. 

Now, as I stared into his pain-filled eyes, I wondered if this would be the last time I'd see the man I loved, the man who had always feared he would be remembered not for his triumphs, but for his failures.

A weary smile tugged at his lips, offering me a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos.

The sound of approaching footsteps shattered the tense silence that enveloped us. My heart raced, each beat hammering in my chest like a war drum. 

I turned, my eyes locking with Aemond, and the rush of adrenaline that fueled my fear morphed into a tempest of anger and betrayal. He stood before me, his presence igniting a fire within me, a volatile mix of fury, fear, and frustration.

"How could you let this happen?" I screamed, my voice raw with accusation, fists striking out at him with each word. "He's your brother!"

"You traitorous bastard! You did this!" I lashed out, every syllable laced with venom. 

Aemond didn't flinch, his expression unreadable as he seized my arms, his grip firm and pushing me away. His calm demeanor in the face of my rage only fueled the inferno burning within me.

"Why?" I demanded, my voice cracking with desperation as I staggered back, watching him unsheathe his sword. My eyes widened in terror, silently pleading with him to stop, to explain himself.

"Aemond, why?" I implored, reaching out instinctively to touch his arm, hoping to anchor him in the reality of the moment. "Please, tell me."

He met my gaze, a storm of confusion and conflict swirling in his eye. "Because I love you," Aemond confessed softly, his voice weighed down by years of unspoken longing and regret.

I sighed deeply, shaking my head in disbelief and sorrow. "Aemond, you do not love me," I countered firmly, steadying my voice despite the turmoil raging inside me.

He froze, his gaze locked on mine, the gravity of my words hanging heavily between us.

"You don't understand," he insisted, his tone pleading. "I've loved you for years, watching from the shadows as you and Aegon grew closer. Aegon has everything, your love, the throne but he doesn't deserve it. He never has, and he never will."

I recoiled from his words, struggling to reconcile this bitter confession with the man I thought I knew, dutiful, loyal, always lingering on the edges of our lives. 

"This isn't how you express love, Aemond," I said softly, my voice tinged with sorrow.

He took a step closer, his hand trembling as he reached out toward me. 

"I know I've made mistakes," he continued, his voice breaking with emotion. "But I can't stand by and watch him waste what he has, what I've always wanted."

My heart ached for him, for the years of unrequited love and the tangled web of emotions that had led us to this moment. "Aemond, I..." I began, unsure of how to navigate the dangerous waters of his revelation.

"Let me do us both a favor," he interrupted suddenly, raising his sword with a grim resolve. 

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I shook my head in denial, the enormity of the situation crashing down upon me.

Before I could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the fragile moment.

Aemond's gaze flickered to the newcomer, and for a brief, fleeting instant, uncertainty clouded his features.

Criston's eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—the wounded Aegon lying on the ground, Aemond standing over him with a raised sword, and me, tearful and caught in the maelstrom of their conflict.

Aemond hesitated, his resolve faltering as he lowered his weapon and took a step back.

"Aemond?" Criston's voice cut through the tension, laced with concern and confusion, but Aemond remained silent, his gaze averted, unable to face the consequences of his actions.

"Help me," I pleaded, my voice trembling as Criston turned to me, urgency and determination in his eyes.

Aemond looked between Criston and me, and then, with a sudden, decisive movement, he turned away, his choice made.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"Will he live?" Alicent's voice sliced through the tension, sharp and desperate.

Her question sent another wave of emotions crashing over me. I glanced at her, her face etched with worry and fear, then back at Aegon. He lay so fragile, wrapped in bandages and the remnants of his pain, his breath shallow and uneven.

Staring at the love of my life in such a vulnerable state, I felt a surge of helplessness. Memories of happier times flooded my mind, and the thought of losing him now was unbearable.

Aegon slowly stirred, his eyelids fluttering open as he began to take in his surroundings. The muted sounds of the room, whispers of the maesters, the soft rustle of movement filled his senses, but he remained silent, his gaze unfocused.

I knelt beside him, holding my breath, searching his eyes for any sign of recognition.

For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, as if trying to piece together his scattered thoughts. The weight of silence hung heavy in the air, and I could feel the tension tightening around us.

I reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, hoping for some connection, some acknowledgment that he was truly with me.

Aegon's gaze shifted to the side, his expression unreadable. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask how he felt, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I sat there, waiting, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope.

Minutes passed, each one stretching painfully long. Alicent stood beside me, her hand gripping the edge of the bed, her knuckles white.

Finally, just as I feared he might never break the silence, Aegon turned his head slightly toward me. His voice, hoarse and strained, broke through the stillness with a single, unexpected command.

"Find me Aemond Targaryen."

A/n - Another favourite of mine!

[iluvapplesxh]

Hi I was wondering if you if you could Billie is angry at us and yells and ignores us and we are nervous and scared of if she doesn’t want to be with us anymore I love your angst ones with Billie because in the end there are so sweet and I feel like a lot of people and myself can relate to wanting someone to understand and love us

☞☞☞☞Love Is Pain☜☜☜☜

summary: Words, which were not meant to be said, thrown at each other angrily. Words which cut deep and made you doubt close to everything. But love was a pain you were ready to bare.

warnings: panic attack, angst, fight, mentions of past trauma (kinda), little fluff at the end. !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

A/N: Hii, anon! it's my first request, so pls be kind. I am not sure if this is exactly what you wanted but I did what I could!

You sat on your couch in the shared apartment you and your girlfriend of 6 months had. Said apartment was silent, you could hear a pin drop if it were to be dropped. Earlier that night, you and Billie had been at a small friendly gathering at a mutual friend’s house, and everything was going great. You and Billie were by one another’s side most of the time, making conversations and such. Well that was until that loving mutual friend sat down next to the two of you on the couch and started talking to Billie about something that happened when you weren’t there.

It would have been fine, you were a busy person so of course there would be some times and memories of Billie’s that you are not part of, but the way Billie unwrapped her arm from around your waist and turned her whole body towards the other girl, her eyes shining with interest as the other girl told the story, the way your friend placed her hand on your girlfriend’s arm as she spoke, shifting closer and closer until their legs were pressed together, Billie’s arm now resting on the back of the couch behind your friend.

Maybe you were overreacting, or maybe you were rightfully upset, but nonetheless, you told your girlfriend you weren’t feeling well in hopes to just escape and go back home together. But no. She had barely turned her attention to you and waved you off with not even as much as a ‘See ya’. 

It made your heart ache and your stomach drop. But you didn’t let it show as you left the house, deciding to leave Billie’s car for her and instead took an uber home. 

It has been hours. And you had seen no sign of a text or call, or her in general. True, you should have been at least a little bit worried but you just couldn’t get that careless response out of your head. It was like you were just like every other person she meets everyday.

And it stung.

Like a bitch.

So, no surprise, when you finally heard the front door open, heavy footsteps approaching the living room through the hallway, you stood up with an angry expression, watching as your girlfriend walked into the living room.

“I didn’t know you left” 

You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest at her words. “I told you, but you seemed all too interested in what Amanda had to say…” 

Billie’s eyebrows furrowed and her hand dropped her cap down on the dresser next to her. “What? What are you implying, baby?” She asked, disbelief clear in her voice.

You shook your head, pressing your lips together before a dry chuckle escaped your lips. “Come on, now you’re gonna pretend you didn’t ignore me, or better said, waved me off, when I asked if we could leave?”

Billie’s jaw clenched as she sighed. “Fine, okay. I’m sorry. Happy?” She held out her arms as she approached you, standing face-to-face with you in front of the dark gray L-shaped couch.

A short breath came out of your mouth as you scoffed once more, your tongue swiping across your front teeth. “No. You-You treated me like I was just one of the Billion people on earth” 

Billie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you?”

Your mouth hung open at her response, a sharp pain shooting through your chest when she said that. You blinked multiple times, your throat tightening up before you cleared it. “What..?” The words were barely above a whisper as your shoulders slumped.

Billie groans and scoffs. “I don’t have the energy for this, man. Why do you have to be so sensitive?” It seems as though Billie is not aware of what she’s saying. Or well, maybe she was. But you didn’t want to think that. No. That would hurt more. To know she’d knowingly say those words to you.

“Billie, I’m trying to-” 

Your words were cut off by another roll of Billie’s eyes and her looking away. “No. You are being such a baby about this. I was just interested in what Amanda had to say”

You swallowed hard and took in a deep breath. “I…that would have been fine if you didn’t ignore me.” You couldn’t help but feel a pang of shame shoot through you. She’s right. You were being dramatic.

“Oh my God!” Her voice was loud and it made you flinch a little as she threw her hands up. “Why are you being like this? I already told you I was sorry!”

You bit your lip, looking down for a moment, tears welling in your eyes before you blinked them back and shook your head. “I’m just saying, that you shouldn’t have-..”

“And I don’t care! I’m tired as shit!” She exclaimed and you took a step back. “I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with your bullshit right now!” Her voice was harsh, ringing loudly in your ears and through the apartment. She ran a hand through her dark hair and let out a deep breath. 

“Billie…-” 

She shook her head and pushed past you, your shoulders bumping harshly as she walked away. “Come to me when you’re less of a whiny baby!” She called out before shutting your bedroom door behind her, leaving you standing in your living room, defeated and belittled. 

You didn’t go to bed that night. Just laid on the couch, knees up to your chest as the fight ran through your head over and over again. It hurt. A lot. But of all the questions running around your head, the biggest one of them all was ‘why?’.

Billie has never been mean to you. Ever. True, the two of you had minor fights before but in the end one of the two of you always apologized. This didn’t feel like that. It felt big. Heavy. Like there will be no apology. No hug in the morning with an ‘I’m so sorry, baby’ whispered into your ear. No sweet nothings. 

It was only around 3Am when the tears had finally stopped flowing, your breathing calmed. But your thoughts didn’t. And neither did the pain in your chest fade. Or the tight knot in your stomach loosen. You wondered if she had fallen asleep, or if she had been in the same state as you. Restless. Head spinning with loud thoughts. Afraid.

Early in the morning, your arms had gone numb being tucked under your chest while lying down. So, you decided to get up, walk around the apartment until you got bored of it and just sat down by the kitchen table. Your head was in your hands, hair clutched between your fingers while your teeth bit the inside of your cheek. 

This fight brought back things you thought you had buried deep. Into the back of your mind where they wouldn’t resurface again. The thoughts which were now once again coming back, ones you thought you’d never have to hear again. It was like you were drowning, and you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with the feeling. No. But it had been years since you felt it, and it came back 10x stronger. Your hearing was muffled, your heart beating in your ears loudly and your breathing grew hurried, taking breath after breath at a fast pace as you felt like your lungs were being squeezed tightly, like you were being choked by something.

And although in the past you knew how to do this, to deal with it, you never could do it alone, so there was always someone helping, assuring you. Not this time. No, you were alone and the worst part was, you deserved it. Well, no. Not exactly, but everything in your head was telling you so, and who were you to  deny? To think; ‘No, you don’t. And you’re not alone, you have Billie’. But did you…?

It felt like you were losing your grip on reality. Everything was a blur as time ticked by with you sitting on the wooden chair by the kitchen table, chest heaving and eyes squeezed shut. Your breath was taken away from you, the air not going in or coming out of your lungs and you felt light-headed. But the sweet escape didn’t come. You didn’t fall down to the floor, unconscious. You stayed upright, fighting an inner battle with yourself, and you were very much losing.

You could hear Billie’s harsh and loud voice echoing in the back of your head with every attempt to breathe. And soon those salty tears were falling down on your face again, your fingers grasping your hair into your fists. Your head hurt, but you couldn’t tell if it was from you pulling your own hair or the lack of air, or the crying.

When Billie woke up from her restless slumber, her chest hurt. Like something wasn’t right. And something in fact wasn’t. Because when she opened her eyes, her arms moved to wrap around your body, but there was nothing, no one. She sat up abruptly and looked around for a moment before the memories came flooding back and she cursed, throwing the blanket off of her body and standing so fast her head spun.

She had no explanation. No excuse for her behavior last night and it pained her. 

She only wasted a couple of moments before rushing towards the closed bedroom door, ripping it open and stepping out. Her expression was one of worry and regret. She frantically looked around for you, everywhere with her breathing increasing in speed with every empty room.

Finally, when she found you, slumped against the kitchen table, your breathing fast and ragged, her worry didn’t ease. It was only the guilt that increased as she approached you.

You didn’t seem aware of her presence at all as she paused by your side, her hand in the air, ready to place a comforting hand on your back but she hesitated. She was mean. To you. And she couldn’t take it back.

It was only when a sob ripped through your chest that she placed her hand on your back, her finger bunching the fabric of your shirt gently as she leaned  down, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Baby?”

Your head shot up when an outside voice rang through your head. Red, tear-filled eyes looking up into Billie’s. You saw her hold back from looking away. The obvious pain and conflict in your eyes and expression hurting her. She couldn’t even imagine what was going on inside your head.

When you tried to speak, only a cry and a short-lived breath came out. Billie immediately stood, shaking her head. “Sh, sh, sh, baby. It’s okay. Don’t speak.” Her hand left your back and moved to cup your face, wiping away the tears. “Breathe with me. Come on. I know you can” Her voice was gentle as she spoke. She took a deep, slow breath in and you tired following but failed, more tears falling down at your failure. 

Billie sighed, feeling her own tears spilling before she blinked and wiped them with her free hand.  She nodded. “Okay. It’s alright. One more time, yeah?” You nodded shortly at her words. “Mhm, okay, In..” She took a deep breath in and you followed suit, inhaling shakily. “And out” She exhaled slowly and you did the same. Her other hand came up to wipe away the strands of hair stuck to your sweat littered forehead as she repeated with you a couple more times.

“Yes, that’s it. You’re doing amazing, pretty girl” She murmurs, leaning down to press her lips on the top of your head. “Breathe” Her hand strokes your hair gently. It’s shaking the slightest bit, her heart aching horribly at the sight in front of her. 

When your breathing finally calms, the thoughts stop and the world doesn’t spin anymore. You’re no longer drowning.

Billie feels you calm down and she pulls back, swallowing hard. Her icy blue eyes studying your face for a moment. There was a long moment of silence between the two of you before Billie reluctantly took a step back. Guilt eating away at her, like her heart got caught in a bear-trap.

She clenches her jaw, steadying herself before speaking. “I’m…I’m sorry” You stare at her, your feelings a mess as you took in her words. “Look-...I have,” She shook her head, her lips pressing together, forming a thin line. “I have no excuse…for how I-...”

You stand on shaky legs and take an unsure step towards her. “Wait. Can-...Can I talk first?” Your voice was small and hoarse as you spoke. Billie nodded her head, her words dying in her throat. “What you said…it hurt” You took a deep breath. “And how you  acted hurt more.” Your words each felt like a push on the bear-trap around her heart. “And-...I was scared.” Your voice broke and you shut your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t think you…” You paused, gaze falling to the ground as your nails dug into your palms. “I didn’t know if you’d stay” It was a whisper, barely audible but Billie heard. And her tears fell as she shook her head.

She took a step forward, too. “No, no. Don’t say that” Her face crumbled and she cupped your cheeks once more, swallowing down her sobs. “This was all on me. I shouldn’t have said those things” When your mouth opened to speak, she shushed you again. “And I am so fucking sorry” She dropped her hands and looked away. “God, love, I don’t think I was even thinking…” 

It was your turn to shake your head, reaching for her warm hands, holding them in yours. You sighed. “I…I know, baby.” You whispered softly, your hands giving hers a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry, too. Because it is not all your fault, okay?”

Billie nodded her head and let go of your hands, reaching behind you and putting them on the small of you back as she pulled you into her. Your arms wrapped around her shoulders. “I made you have a panic attack” She whispered and you paused before hugging her tighter. 

“It’s not-..” 

“Yes.” She nods against your shoulder. “It is. Just-...” One of her hands came up to rest on the back of your head. “Talk to me. Okay? Don’t let me treat you like that ever again, baby.” 

You sighed and nodded, closing your eyes. “You won’t” 

The two of you stayed there a while. Just in each other’s arms. You both knew this was not going to be your last fight. But, looking at it differently, maybe that’s a good thing.

A/N: ughh, the ending is shit. sorry. I kinda made this in a little rush but hope its satisfactory. Btw! I have never had a panic attack before! Or at least I think. But I tried my best to write it!

[millyh23]

Breaking the Silence

Lucy Bronze x Reader

word count: 6.4k

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Lucy slipped through the side door of the Chelsea training facility, her eyes darting across the empty hall. She wasn’t meant to be here so late. No one was. But this wasn't about late-night workouts or reviewing match footage. This was about sneaking into a quiet room where no one would think to look for her.

As she reached the physio room, the faint light spilling from under the door made her smile. She eased it open and saw her—the reason Lucy found herself at the training grounds even when she should be home, resting.

The physio, Y/n, had her back turned, organizing the shelves, humming softly to herself. Lucy took a step forward, the click of her cleats on the tiled floor making Y/n freeze.

“Lucy,” she whispered without turning around, that familiar smile evident in her voice. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Lucy smirked, letting the door fall shut behind her. “Neither are you.”

Y/n finally turned, meeting her gaze, their eyes locking in that electric moment they always shared. “I’m just finishing up,” she said, but the soft blush on her cheeks gave away her real thoughts.

Lucy walked over, her fingers brushing the side of her arm as she leaned in close. “Maybe I was missing you.”

“You see me every day,” Y/n teased, but her voice softened. “You could get in trouble for sneaking in here like this.”

Lucy’s grin widened. “I don’t mind a little risk.” She paused, then added with a glint in her eye, “For you.”

The tension in the room thickened, both of them knowing how important it was to keep things under wraps. Lucy had always been good at keeping her personal life separate from her football career. But ever since she transferred to Chelsea, hiding this relationship had become trickier—and yet, more exciting.

As Y/n turned back to her work, Lucy slipped her arms around her waist from behind, pressing her lips to the back of her neck.

“Lucy…” Y/n’s voice held a warning, but her body relaxed into the embrace.

“We can be careful,” Lucy murmured against her skin, her voice soft but full of meaning. “No one will know.”

“Except for when they do.” she turned in her arms, looking up at her with a mixture of affection and worry. “We can’t keep this up forever.”

Lucy cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb across her lips. “Then let’s enjoy it while we can.”

Y/n sighed, the weight of secrecy pressing between them even as their bodies stayed close. She ran her fingers through Lucy’s hair, pushing back a stray strand, her thumb brushing Lucy’s temple gently.

“I don’t know how you stay so calm about this,” Y/n whispered. “Every time you’re in the locker room, I worry someone’s going to figure it out. One look at you and—”

“—and they’ll think I’m focused on winning,” Lucy cut in with a playful grin. “That’s what I’m known for, right?”

Y/n let out a soft laugh, but her eyes held the unspoken concern. It was easy for Lucy to play it cool, to keep their relationship hidden under layers of professionalism, but for Y/n, every time they met in secret felt like the walls were closing in. Every glance in training sessions, every casual touch during rehab… it all felt like a ticking time bomb.

Lucy, sensing the hesitation, pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “You’re worried about us getting caught,” she said softly, understanding in her tone.

“Of course I am. You're Lucy Bronze—every move you make is scrutinized. What if they think I’m abusing my position, or worse, that it affects the way you’re treated on the team?”

The vulnerability in Y/n’s voice tugged at Lucy’s heart. She placed her hands on the smaller girl's shoulders, holding her firmly but gently. “Hey,” she said, her voice low but steady, “what we have is ours. It’s not for anyone else to understand or judge.”

Y/n lowered her gaze, her lips pressing into a tight line. Lucy could feel the tension radiating from her.

“I know it’s hard,” Lucy continued, her thumb tracing soft patterns on Y/n’s arm, “but we’ve been careful, right? No one’s said a word. And even if they did, I’d handle it. No one’s coming between us, I promise.”

There was something in Lucy’s voice, a quiet strength, that made Y/n look up again. Her heart ached in a good way, a way that reminded her why she had fallen for Lucy in the first place. The footballer was relentless on the pitch, but with her, she was tender—always knowing what to say to calm her fears, to make her feel secure.

“I believe you,” Y/n said softly, her fingers tracing the edge of Lucy’s jaw. “I just… don’t want to mess things up for you.”

Lucy leaned in, their foreheads touching. “You could never mess things up for me. You’re the best thing that’s happened since I came to Chelsea.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet affirmation of the bond they shared. And in that moment, the fear seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of them in the quiet stillness of the physio room, where the rest of the world didn’t matter.

Y/n smiled, a soft, real smile. “You’re really bad at being subtle, you know that?”

Lucy chuckled, her lips brushing against Y/n’s. “Good thing I’m not subtle with you.”

Their kiss was slow, gentle, a moment they savored despite the risks. But as their lips parted, Y/n pulled back with a playful glint in her eye. “You’ve got to go, Lucy. If someone finds us here…”

“I’ll just say I needed an extra session with my favorite physio,” Lucy teased, her voice dropping to a whisper as she nuzzled in her girlfriend's neck.

She playfully shoved her away. “You are such a terrible liar.”

Lucy laughed, stepping back with a wink. “I guess I better practice then. Same time tomorrow?”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” Lucy shot back as she slipped out the door, leaving behind the warmth of their secret but carrying it with her as she stepped into the cold night air.

As the door closed softly behind her, Y/n stood there for a moment, her heart still racing, the weight of their hidden love hanging heavy but sweet. She had no idea how long they could keep it a secret—but for now, she was willing to hold onto it for as long as she could.

The following days felt like a tightrope walk. Every glance, every brush of fingers, every moment where their eyes lingered just a second too long— Y/n could feel the pressure building. The secrecy that once felt thrilling was starting to fray her nerves.

It didn’t help that Chelsea’s training sessions were more intense than ever. Lucy was everywhere, always in motion, her leadership on full display. And Y/n, as the team physio, had to remain professional, pretending not to notice how the sight of Lucy made her heart race, even as she worked on other players.

But today, something felt off.

In the middle of a grueling session, Y/n stood on the sidelines, observing the players, clipboard in hand. Lucy was playing in a small-sided game, her voice ringing out across the pitch, calling orders, demanding more from her teammates. She was focused—too focused, if Y/n was honest. It was as if Lucy was pushing herself harder than usual, and the strain was starting to show.

Suddenly, it happened.

Lucy went in for a challenge, misjudging her footing as her knee twisted awkwardly. She hit the ground with a sharp cry, clutching her leg. The sound of it sent a shockwave of fear through Y/n.

Her heart lurched, instincts taking over as she sprinted onto the field, her medical bag swinging at her side. By the time she reached Lucy, the other players were already crowded around, concern etched on their faces.

"Bronze, you alright?" Sam Kerr’s voice was tense as she knelt beside her teammate.

Y/n shoved her way through, dropping to her knees beside Lucy. Their eyes met for the briefest second—Lucy’s filled with pain, but also something else. A silent message: Stay professional. Don’t let them know.

Y/n swallowed hard, her hands already moving to assess the injury, but her fingers trembled slightly. She could feel the weight of everyone watching, the whole team staring as she worked.

"Can you move it?" she asked, her voice steady despite the panic building in her chest.

Lucy grimaced, shaking her head. “It’s tight—hurts like hell.”

Y/n quickly ran through the motions, checking for serious damage. Her touch was careful, methodical, but inside she was falling apart. If Lucy was seriously injured, if she was out for weeks or months… How could she handle seeing her like this every day, knowing she couldn’t do anything to help?

She forced herself to focus, but every time Lucy winced, she felt a jolt of fear. What if this was more than just a strain? What if—

“Is it bad?” Millie’s voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her back to reality.

Y/n cleared her throat, forcing a calmness she didn’t feel. “It’s hard to say without a full assessment, but it looks like a sprain. We’ll get her back to the physio room for a better look.”

Lucy gave her a tight nod, playing her part perfectly, even though Y/n could see the tension in her jaw, the pain she was trying so hard to mask.

With the help of some teammates, Lucy was helped off the field, and Y/n followed closely, keeping her professional mask firmly in place. But inside, the worry was gnawing at her.

When they finally made it back to the treatment room, Lucy’s face was a mask of frustration as she lay back on the table. The door closed with a soft click, and suddenly, the room felt too small, too quiet.

Y/n turned to face Lucy, the weight of their relationship suddenly crashing down on her.

"You shouldn’t have pushed yourself so hard," she said, her voice sharper than she intended.

Lucy looked at her, eyebrow raised. “I had to. We’ve got games coming up—important ones.”

“You’ve been reckless,” Y/n countered, stepping closer, her emotions bubbling over. “And now look at you.”

Lucy’s expression hardened, her tone clipped. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

Y/n flinched at the words, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I’m trying to help you, Lucy, but you’re making it impossible. Do you even care what happens if—”

“If what? If I get hurt? I’ve dealt with worse.”

“That’s not the point!” Y/n snapped, finally letting her frustration break through. “You act like nothing touches you, like we’re fine, but we’re not! You’re playing with fire out there, and it’s only a matter of time before someone notices something’s off. Do you really think we can keep this up?”

Lucy’s eyes flashed with something fierce. “We’ve been fine so far. You’re the one who’s panicking.”

Y/n shook her head, stepping back, her hands trembling now. “Because I care about you. And I hate pretending that I don’t. Every time you get hurt, every time you push too hard, it kills me, Lucy. I can’t keep doing this if—”

“If what?” Lucy sat up, wincing slightly but ignoring the pain. “If we get caught? If someone finds out? I told you, I’ll handle it.”

“But it’s not just about you,” Y/n said, her voice quieter now, the anger giving way to something rawer, more vulnerable. “It’s about us. I don’t know how long I can keep pretending this doesn’t hurt.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension between them thick and unspoken. Lucy’s eyes softened, the fire dimming as she looked at Y/n, really looked at her.

“You’re right,” Lucy said, her voice softer now. “I’ve been reckless. But I can’t let anything get in the way of football. Not now.”

Y/n looked away, her heart aching. “And what about us?”

Lucy reached out, her hand gently closing over Y/n’s. “I don’t know. But I want us. More than anything.”

The confession hung in the air, and for a moment, the tension gave way to something tender, something fragile. But the uncertainty still lingered, and neither of them knew how long they could keep walking this tightrope before everything came crashing down.

Lucy’s hand held onto Y/n’s, the warmth of her touch a stark contrast to the cold weight of their unspoken fears. Y/n wanted to believe her, wanted to cling to the idea that they could navigate the minefield of their secret relationship without it blowing up in their faces. But each passing day felt like they were inching closer to the edge.

“You want us,” Y/n echoed softly, her eyes meeting Lucy’s. “But you want football more.”

It wasn’t an accusation—it was a fact. A fact they both knew but had never put into words. Football was Lucy’s world. It always had been. And as much as Y/n wanted to be a part of that world, she was beginning to wonder if there was room for both her and Lucy’s relentless drive.

Lucy’s jaw tensed, her eyes flashing with frustration again, but this time, there was something deeper in her gaze. Guilt, maybe. Or fear. “Football is my life,” she said, her voice low, almost apologetic. “It’s what I’ve worked for since I was a kid. You knew that when this started.”

“I did,” Y/n admitted, her heart aching. “And I accepted it. But I didn’t realize how hard it would be, watching you put yourself through hell, knowing I have to pretend like you’re just another player.”

Lucy’s eyes softened, and she squeezed Y/n’s hand tighter. “You’re not just anyone to me. You know that.”

Y/n pulled her hand away, stepping back as the walls seemed to close in around her. “But no one else does. I’m supposed to act like this is nothing, like it doesn’t matter. But it does, Lucy. It matters too much.”

The words hung between them, heavy and full of the truth Y/n had been trying to avoid for months. They had fallen into this secret relationship, thinking they could handle it, that they could separate their personal lives from their professional ones. But now, the lines were blurring, and it was becoming harder to ignore the toll it was taking.

Lucy stood up from the table, wincing slightly as her injured leg protested. “I know it’s hard,” she said, her voice tense with the weight of everything unsaid. “But what do you want me to do? Walk away from football? Walk away from us?”

Y/n blinked, the question hitting her like a punch to the gut. She had never asked Lucy to choose—she didn’t want to. But it was becoming clear that something had to give. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.”

Lucy took a step forward, her eyes desperate now. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t want to,” Y/n admitted, her heart pounding in her chest. “But every time I see you hurt, every time I have to pretend like you’re just another player, it’s like I’m losing you. Piece by piece.”

“You’re not losing me,” Lucy insisted, her voice firm. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/n shook her head, the frustration boiling over again. “You say that, but what happens when the next injury comes? Or when someone starts asking questions? How long before we slip up and everyone knows?”

Lucy ran a hand through her hair, her expression tightening. “We won’t slip up. We’ve been careful. We can keep this under control.”

“Can we?” Y/n asked, her voice rising in desperation. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like we’re one mistake away from everything falling apart.”

Lucy clenched her jaw, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “So what are you saying? That we should end this?”

The question hit Y/n like a slap, and she recoiled, her breath catching in her throat. She hadn’t meant to suggest that—not really. But the thought had been gnawing at her, growing stronger with each passing day. Maybe it would be easier if they weren’t together, if they didn’t have to hide, if they didn’t have to pretend.

But the idea of losing Lucy? Of walking away from everything they’d built, even if it was in secret? It felt unbearable.

“I don’t know,” Y/n whispered, her voice cracking. “Maybe that would be better. For both of us.”

Lucy’s eyes darkened, a storm of emotions swirling behind them. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know what I mean anymore,” Y/n admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. “All I know is that I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t hurt. It’s tearing me apart, Lucy.”

Lucy stared at her, her chest rising and falling with the force of her breath. The silence between them was suffocating, filled with all the things they were too afraid to say. Finally, Lucy spoke, her voice low and raw.

“I can’t lose you,” she said, the vulnerability in her tone cracking through her usual confidence. “I don’t care about the risks. I don’t care if people find out. I need you.”

The confession hung in the air, a sharp contrast to the tension that had been building between them. But even as the words washed over her, Y/n couldn’t shake the fear gnawing at her. It wasn’t just about the risks or the secrecy—it was about the reality that Lucy’s world would always come first. And maybe, deep down, Y/n had always known that.

“I need you too,” Y/n said softly, her voice trembling. “But I don’t know if that’s enough anymore.”

Lucy’s face fell, her eyes searching Y/n’s as if she could find some way to fix this, some way to pull them back from the edge. But the truth was, they were standing on the brink, and neither of them knew how to step back.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Lucy whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t walk away from football. Not now. Not ever.”

Y/n nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I know. And I’m not asking you to. But I need to know if there’s room for both.”

Lucy looked away, her jaw tight, her eyes clouded with the weight of the decision hanging over them. And for the first time, Y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, there wasn’t room for both. Not the way they needed.

The silence stretched between them, thick and painful, until finally, Lucy spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know.”

And with those three words, the tension that had been building for so long finally snapped, leaving them standing on opposite sides of the room, the distance between them more than just physical. It was the reality of their situation—the impossibility of their love—and it was slowly tearing them apart.

Lucy’s words echoed in the small room, heavy with the weight of uncertainty. "I don't know." It wasn’t what Y/n wanted to hear. It was like the ground beneath them was slipping, the foundation of their relationship crumbling under the pressure.

The silence stretched, thick and unbearable. Y/n wiped at her tears, trying to keep herself together, but every second that passed only deepened the chasm between them. Lucy was still sitting on the edge of the treatment table, staring at the floor, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shorts as if she was trying to hold onto something solid.

But nothing felt solid anymore.

“You don’t know?” Y/n repeated softly, her voice breaking. She wasn’t even sure why she’d asked—it was clear from Lucy’s expression that this was the truth, that she was struggling with the weight of it just as much as Y/n was.

Lucy looked up, her eyes clouded with frustration and pain. “What do you want me to say?” she asked, her voice rising slightly. “I’m doing the best I can, Y/n. I’m trying to balance everything, but football… it’s who I am. It’s my whole life. I can’t just… I can’t just walk away from it.”

Y/n felt her stomach twist, her heart pounding against her ribs. “I’m not asking you to walk away from it! I would never ask that!” Her voice cracked with the emotion she was trying so hard to control. “But I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep hiding, pretending like I don’t care when you’re hurt, pretending like we’re not… something real. It’s too much, Lucy.”

Lucy stood up, her movements sharp, full of restless energy. She ran a hand through her hair, pacing the room, clearly torn between her love for football and her feelings for Y/n. The tension in her shoulders was unmistakable, the frustration seeping into every step.

“I don’t know what else to do,” Lucy admitted, stopping in front of her, her eyes pleading for understanding. “If we go public, everything changes. People start talking, the media gets involved, the team dynamics shift… it’s a risk for both of us.”

“And what about us?!” Y/n blurted out, her voice full of desperation. “Are we even a priority for you? Or is this just… something to fill the gaps between your matches?”

The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them. The look on Lucy’s face—shock, hurt, and anger—stabbed Y/n like a knife. But she couldn’t take it back now.

“Is that what you think?” Lucy’s voice was low, dangerous. She stepped closer, her presence commanding. “You think I’m with you just because it’s convenient? That this doesn’t mean everything to me?”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling cornered but unable to stop herself. “I don’t know, Lucy! Because right now, it feels like I’m just an afterthought. Like football will always come first, and I’m just supposed to be okay with that.”

Lucy stared at her, her chest rising and falling with the force of her emotions. “Of course football comes first. It has to. You knew that when this started. I never hid that from you.”

“And I thought I could handle it,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling. “But it’s breaking me. Every time you get hurt, I have to pretend like it doesn’t matter more because I’m your physio, and not your—” She stopped herself, choking on the word she hadn’t said yet. She wasn’t sure she even had the right to say it.

Lucy closed the distance between them, her voice softer now, but the tension still crackling in the air. “Not my what?”

Y/n swallowed, tears welling up again. “Not your girlfriend.”

The word hung between them, thick with emotion. Lucy’s face softened, but there was still so much conflict in her eyes.

“You are my girlfriend,” Lucy said quietly, but the words didn’t feel as comforting as they should have.

“Then why doesn’t it feel like it?” Y/n whispered, her voice barely holding together. “Why does it feel like I’m always waiting for scraps of time with you? Like I’m always second place to the game?”

Lucy’s shoulders sagged, and for a moment, it looked like she was going to crumble under the weight of it all. “Because… because football is all I’ve ever known. It’s how I make sense of the world. And yeah, maybe I’ve been shitty at balancing everything, but that doesn’t mean you’re not important to me.”

Y/n shook her head, biting her lip to keep the sob from escaping. “I know that. But I don’t want to just be someone you fit into the gaps between training sessions and matches. I want to feel like we’re in this together. Like we’re both fighting for it.”

Lucy was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching Y/n’s face, as if trying to find the right words to make everything okay. But there were no easy answers. There never had been.

“I don’t know if I can give you that,” Lucy finally said, her voice raw. “Not the way you need me to.”

The admission hit her like a punch to the gut. She had been holding onto hope that Lucy could find a way to balance everything—that somehow, they could make this work. But hearing Lucy admit that she wasn’t sure if she could be the partner Y/n needed was like a cold, harsh reality settling in.

Tears streamed down [Y/N]’s cheeks as she stepped back, putting distance between them. “Then what are we doing, Lucy?” she asked, her voice thick with pain. “What’s the point of this if it’s always going to be like this?”

Lucy looked like she wanted to argue, to tell Y/n that it would be different, that they could make it work. But she didn’t. Because deep down, they both knew the truth. The balance between football and their relationship was fragile, and it was tipping in the wrong direction.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Lucy said softly, her voice breaking with emotion. “But I don’t know how to be with you in a way that doesn’t hurt both of us.”

Y/n wiped at her tears, her heart breaking with every word. “Maybe we can’t.”

Lucy’s eyes filled with sorrow, and for the first time, she didn’t have a response. The silence between them was louder than anything else. It was full of all the things they hadn’t said, all the sacrifices they weren’t sure they could make.

Y/n turned, walking toward the door, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. “Maybe we need to stop pretending this isn’t tearing us apart,” she whispered, her back to Lucy. “Because I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

And with that, she opened the door, stepping out into the hallway, leaving Lucy behind in the quiet, suffocating stillness of the treatment room.

But even as the door clicked shut behind her, Y/n knew that walking away was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Because leaving Lucy, even if it was the right thing, felt like losing the one thing she’d ever truly wanted.

Y/n barely made it down the hallway before the weight of everything became too much. She leaned against the cold wall, her breath coming in shaky, uneven gasps as the reality of what had just happened sank in. Walking away from Lucy felt like ripping her heart out. But staying? Staying felt like it was breaking her, piece by piece.

She could still feel the echo of Lucy’s words—I don’t know if I can give you that. It played over and over in her mind, like a loop she couldn’t escape. But she had to. She had to let go, hadn’t she?

Before she could make sense of the mess of emotions swirling inside her, she heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind her. She turned just in time to see Lucy limping down the hallway, her face flushed, her eyes wide with panic.

“Y/n, wait,” Lucy called out, her voice breathless, almost frantic.

Y/n swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. She wanted to run, to keep going before Lucy could say anything else. But the look in Lucy’s eyes—the sheer desperation there—rooted her to the spot.

Lucy stopped in front of her, her chest heaving from the short sprint, her eyes locked onto Y/n’s. “I can’t… I can’t let you leave like this.”

Y/n blinked, her throat tightening. “Lucy…”

“No, please, just listen,” Lucy interrupted, her voice thick with emotion. She took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “Y/n, I’ve spent my entire life putting football first. It’s been everything to me. And I thought… I thought I could keep it that way. I thought I could just make everything else fit around it. But I was wrong.”

Y/n felt her pulse quicken, her breath catching in her throat. “What are you saying?”

Lucy took a shaky breath, her eyes searching Y/n’s face with an intensity that made Y/n’s heart ache. “I’m saying that I’ve been a coward. I’ve been afraid to admit how much you mean to me. I’ve been so focused on football that I’ve been too scared to let myself want more. But I want more, Y/n. I want you. I need you.”

Y/n stared at her, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of her chest. “But… what about football?”

Lucy’s jaw clenched, but her gaze never wavered. “Football will always be a part of my life. It’s who I am. But it’s not all I am. I don’t want it to be the only thing that matters. Not anymore.”

The vulnerability in Lucy’s voice, the rawness of her confession, hit Y/n harder than anything else. This was Lucy Bronze—strong, determined, unshakeable—finally admitting that she couldn’t do it all alone. That she didn’t want to.

Lucy reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she cupped her face. Her thumb gently wiped away a tear that had slipped down Y/n's cheek. “I love you,” she whispered, the words so soft they were barely audible. “I’ve been too afraid to say it, but it’s true. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The breath caught in Y/n’s throat, her vision blurring as more tears spilled over. Lucy had said the words she hadn’t even dared to hope for, the words that had been locked between them for far too long. “Lucy…” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy,” Lucy continued, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “I know I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve been selfish, and I’ve hurt you by not giving you the attention you deserve. But I want to make it right. I want to fight for us.”

Y/n shook her head, her emotions swirling so violently inside her that she couldn’t keep it together. “How can you say that? How can you be sure?”

“Because I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Lucy said, her voice fierce with conviction. “I know football is important, but I also know that I don’t want to live in a world where I don’t have you by my side. We’ll figure it out. I don’t care if people know, I don’t care if we have to navigate the chaos together. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Y/n felt her walls crumbling, the tension that had built between them for so long finally breaking. “I don’t want to lose you either,” she whispered, her voice barely holding together. “I love you too, Lucy. But I can’t keep feeling like I’m second place.”

“You won’t be,” Lucy promised, her eyes shining with emotion. “I’m not saying I’ll get it right all the time, but I swear I’ll try. You’re my priority. You’ve always been my priority, even if I didn’t show it. I need you to believe me when I say that.”

Y/n swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. But the sincerity in Lucy’s voice, the sheer determination in her eyes, made it impossible not to believe her.

“I believe you,” Y/n whispered, her voice breaking as she leaned into Lucy’s touch.

Lucy exhaled, a shaky, relieved breath escaping her as she pulled Y/n into a tight embrace. The moment their bodies touched, it was like the tension that had been holding them apart for so long finally melted away. They stood there in the hallway, clinging to each other, holding on as if they were afraid to let go.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy murmured into Y/n’s hair, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

Y/n shook her head, burying her face in Lucy’s chest as the tears came in full force now. “I’m sorry too. I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Lucy promised, her arms tightening around her. “You never will.”

For the first time in months, Y/n allowed herself to believe it. They stood there, wrapped in each other, the weight of the last few months finally lifting as they found a sense of peace in each other’s arms.

It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t be easy. But for the first time, they were both willing to fight for it. Together.

Lucy pulled back slightly, tilting Y/n's chin up so their eyes met. “We’ll figure this out,” she said softly, her voice full of determination. “One step at a time.”

Y/n smiled through her tears, a glimmer of hope flickering in her chest. “One step at a time.”

Lucy leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss to Y/n’s lips, sealing the promise they’d made to each other.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, it didn’t feel like they were on opposite sides of a battlefield. It felt like they were in this together—finally, truly together.

The kiss lingered for a moment, gentle but full of unspoken promises. When they finally pulled apart, Lucy rested her forehead against Y/n’s, her breath mingling with hers in the quiet of the hallway. It felt like they had broken through the storm and finally found a moment of peace, fragile but real.

“Let’s get out of here,” Lucy whispered, her voice still low but steadier now. “We need time—time away from everything. Just us.”

Y/n nodded, her heart still pounding from the emotional whiplash of the last hour. The idea of being alone with Lucy, no pressure from football, no eyes watching, felt like a lifeline. “Yeah. I think we both need that.”

Lucy smiled softly, a glint of relief in her eyes. “Come on,” she said, taking Y/n’s hand and leading her down the hallway toward the exit. The touch of Lucy’s hand in hers was grounding, the warmth of her skin reassuring. It felt like they were finally moving forward, like they had a chance to rebuild what had nearly been broken.

The walk to the car was quiet, but it wasn’t the strained silence that had been hanging over them for weeks. It was a comfortable quiet, the kind where words weren’t necessary. They were both exhausted—emotionally and physically—but being next to each other, knowing they had made it through, was enough for now.

As they drove away from the training ground, Lucy’s hand stayed resting on Y/n’s thigh, her thumb brushing soothing circles over her skin. Y/n glanced over at her, seeing the tension that had been etched into Lucy’s face for so long starting to ease. There was still so much to work through, but this moment felt like a step in the right direction.

They ended up at Lucy’s flat, the familiar space feeling like a sanctuary after the whirlwind of emotions. As soon as the door closed behind them, Lucy pulled Y/n into her arms again, holding her tightly as if she never wanted to let go. Y/n melted into the embrace, burying her face in Lucy’s neck, breathing in the comforting scent of her.

“I missed you,” Lucy whispered, her voice barely audible. “Even when you were right there, I missed you.”

Y/n’s throat tightened again, but this time it wasn’t from pain—it was from the overwhelming love she felt for this woman, the woman who had been so scared to let herself be vulnerable, but who was finally opening up. “I missed you too,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion.

They stood like that for a while, just holding each other, the weight of everything that had happened slowly starting to fade as they found solace in each other’s arms. Eventually, Lucy pulled back slightly, her eyes searching Y/n’s face.

“I want to do better,” Lucy said softly. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but I’m going to try. For us.”

Y/n smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the woman in front of her. “We’ll figure it out together. We always do.”

Lucy leaned in, pressing another kiss to Y/n’s lips, this one filled with a renewed sense of hope. When they pulled apart, Lucy rested her forehead against Y/n’s again, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“You know,” Lucy said, her tone lighter now, “I think we’re both pretty terrible at this whole ‘keeping it a secret’ thing.”

Y/n let out a soft laugh, the tension between them finally dissolving completely. “Yeah, I think we’ve been caught more times than we’d like to admit.”

Lucy grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I don’t think it’s going to stay a secret for much longer.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” Y/n said, her smile growing. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I don’t want us to be something we have to keep in the shadows.”

Lucy’s expression softened, the vulnerability she had shown earlier still there, but now tempered with a quiet confidence. “Neither do I,” she admitted. “I’m ready to let people see us for who we are. We deserve that.”

Y/n felt her heart flutter at Lucy’s words. They had been through so much together—fighting to balance their careers and their relationship, struggling to find time for each other in the chaos of their lives—but this felt like the start of something new. Something stronger.

“Okay,” Y/n said, her voice filled with determination. “Then let’s do it. Let’s stop hiding.”

Lucy smiled, a look of pure affection in her eyes. “Together?”

“Together.”

They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of the decision settling over them like a warm blanket. It wouldn’t be easy—there would be questions, media attention, and the inevitable scrutiny that came with being a high-profile couple. But they were ready to face it. For the first time, they were both on the same page, both committed to fighting for their relationship, no matter what came their way.

Lucy pulled Y/n toward the couch, settling down beside her, their fingers still intertwined. “So,” she said, her tone teasing, “how do you think the team’s going to take the news?”

Y/n laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months. “I think they’ve probably already figured it out.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Lucy agreed, her smile widening. “I guess we’ll just have to deal with the teasing.”

“As long as I have you, I can handle it,” Y/n said, her voice soft but filled with certainty.

Lucy leaned in, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s temple. “You’ll always have me.”

And with that, the last remnants of the tension between them finally disappeared, replaced by the quiet, steady certainty of their love. They sat there, side by side, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The End

[suiana]

"Rewind?"

As a patient in a hospital, you swear that you're living the same day over and over. However, your doctor assures you that you're simply hallucinating.

Warnings: manipulation, obsession, classic yandere stuff idk, gn reader

[Day 2]

A warm breeze kisses your skin gently, the smell of freshly cut flowers as well as sanitized equipment invades your senses as you rub your eyes and let out a soft yawn.

Waking up in the same hospital bed, you smile as the thought of getting better fills your thoughts. Yes! A brand new day! You can already feel your body getting better and better!

"I can't wait to finally leave this place..."

You mutter to yourself, smiling softly as a soft knock comes from outside. You feel your heart race as the sigh of someone familiar enters, a small paper bag of baked goodies in one hand as he smiles down at you kindly.

"Doctor!"

"Well hello to you too, y/n."

You greet cheerfully, beaming at the handsome doctor who walks over to you with a smile who greets you back with a soft smile. You feel your heart warm slightly at him, butterflies in your tummy as he comes close to you.

Doctor Anthony Eurwen.

That's who he was. A genius young man who became a doctor at the age of 24. He was highly respected in the medical field, having achieved so much at his young age and right now, he's your doctor. Well, he has been for quite some time now. You suppose 3 months now?

He takes care of you personally and you wouldn't have it any other way. Why would you? A genius doctor caring for you one on one! You would have to be a fool to pass up this opportunity! Not to mention the fact that he was quite dashing...

Neat black hair along with brown eyes that shined golden under the sun, his facial features were no joke.

You were sure he had both girls and guys chasing after him. I mean, he was very handsome, intelligent, and had a nice personality. What isn't there to love about him?

...And that's why you developed a small crush on him.

Not like you'd ever confess though! You knew you'd be rejected in an instant, so there was really no point in trying in the first place. Plus, you knew that it was against ethics for a doctor to date a patient they're caring for. If you wanted to try your luck you'd have to wait until you were well enough to go home.

"y/n? You're spacing out, are you okay?"

You snap out of your thoughts, blinking repeatedly as your doctor presses a hand against your forehead in a worry. You immediately shake your head, laughing awkwardly as you feel your cheeks flush a dark hue.

"Ha-ha... Doctor I'm fine! Just... daydreaming is all!"

You choke out, smiling awkwardly at your doctor who purses his lips, clearly unconvinced by your words.

"Really? Hm... If you say so."

Doctor Eurwen mumbles, reluctantly taking his hand away from your forehead. You see him pause for a second, grip tightening on the paper bag of baked delights before relaxing.

"If you're not feeling well, you must tell me, y/n. I am your doctor and I just want you to get better."

He sighs, looking at you with a... loving? look in his eyes. Huh... loving? You never thought you'd describe his eyes as loving, especially towards you of all people! Haha, maybe it's a platonic type of love!

You nod at him, smiling awkwardly before looking at the small paper bag he held before gesturing to it.

"Doctor, what's that? Is that for me?"

You hum, staring curiously at the bag that smelled wonderful. You wonder whether he bought that for you or for himself. Or maybe he bought it for both of you to share?He'd do that once in a while when he was feeling hungry.

Doctor Eurwen looks down at the paper bag, smiling slightly as he places it on your table, opening it before taking out a small croissant.

"It's for both of us. I was hungry and bought a croissant for myself. Then I thought I'd get my favourite patient a little something as well."

He hums, pushing the small bag towards you as he munches on his croissant. You feel your heart flutter at his words, eyes widening as you look at the paper bag that carried another croissant in it. Ah, so he did get it for you! How nice of him...

"Thank you doctor, you really didn't have to. The hospital will get me breakfast later..."

"Don't worry about it, just treat this as a small snack."

He chuckles, smiling at you before he takes out his phone to show you a picture of his dog. Right! He had a dachshund dog that he treated like his own daughter!

"Milly gained some weight recently. She's been eating too much. I should reduce her treats."

The young doctor sighs, showing you some videos of his beloved puppy before looking at you with a cheeky grin. You can't help but feel your heart skip a beat at his attractive face.

"y/n, after you get better, we should go for a walk sometime. We can walk Milly together."

He proposes, looking down at his phone before chuckling softly. His cheeks were a soft pink, eyes clouded with happiness as you freeze in place, gulping nervously as you feel yourself grow hot at the sight of your doctor.

You try to answer, but your mouth was dry and your brain refused to cooperate normally, rendering your ability to speak useless at the sight of the handsome man. So you opted to nodding instead, laughing awkwardly as you avert your eyes elsewhere.

Damn, that was embarrassing as hell.

"Anyway, I'll be back with your medicine and check up later. Enjoy the croissant I got for you."

He mumbles, backing away as he pats your head. You watch as he leaves the room quietly, not mentioning anything about your flustered state. As soon as he was gone and the door to your room clicked shut, you let out a silent sigh of relief.

Thank god he left. You swear that you'd die from embarrassment if he remained in your presence any longer.

Shaking your head, you stretch slightly before looking out the window. What a beautiful day it was today! You can't wait for later and the following days to come!

...

A warm breeze kisses your skin gently, the smell of freshly cut flowers as well as sanitized equipment invades your senses as you rub your eyes and let out a soft yawn.

You immediately shoot out of bed, eyes wide as you observe your surroundings cautiously.

What? Flowers? You were sure that Doctor Eurwen removed them yesterday after the check-up...

You stare at the clear vase in confusion, looking around your room before the footsteps of someone familiar walks in. Doctor Eurwen! Maybe he'd know what's up!

"Doctor!"

However, you feel your heart sink slightly at the sight of the same small paper bag that you were quite sure you threw away yesterday. What the hell was going on? Oh, wait, the bakery was nearby so he migt've just gotten it again today, right? Haha...

"Well hello to you too, y/n."

What the- The same exact greeting too? Nah, this has to be some sort of joke. Right, a joke! He probably placed the flowers back there to play a little prank on you... Of course!

"Doctor, is- is this a joke? Haha... You did the same thing yesterday..."

"What? y/n are you alright? What are you talking about?"

Doctor Eurwen frowns at your words, walking towards you as he places the small paper bag down and reaches out his hand to touch your forehead. You can't help but flinch at his touch, looking up at him with a confused expression.

"Doctor, I swear you threw those flowers out yesterday! And you definitely bought the same exact pastries! That bag looks exactly like yesterday's! Why are you playing a prank on me?"

You whimper, looking at him as you look for him for an answer. Unfortunately, all you got was his concerned gaze and furrowed eyebrows as an answer.

"y/n, I didn't do that... Are you okay? Are you having delusions again? Maybe we should adminster you a different medicine..."

You stare at him in shock, not understanding what was happening. Wait, you were so sure that yesterday actually happened. Is this just a dream? But it can't be! Everything feels too real!

"Anyway, It's for both of us. I was hungry and bought a croissant for myself. Then I thought I'd get my favourite patient a little something as well."

Doctor Eurwen mumbles, gesturing to the paper bag of goodies on your table. But before you could protest any further, he says something which sends you into even more of a frenzy.

"Milly gained some weight recently. She's been eating too much. I should reduce her treats."

What the hell? That was the same exact line as from yesterday! You furrow your eyebrows at the doctor, chewing on your bottom lip as he talks about his pet dog before leaving the room, exactly the same way as yesterday. After he left, you couldn't help but throw the croissant into the trashbin.

Just what the hell was going on?

[v6quewrlds]

❝ fever, m. barzal. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: it's your birthday. mat's horny. nothing new.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: this was supposed to part of a wip that i'm scraping because i hate it 🙂‍↕️🫶🏾. but this scene was tew good for me to throw in the trash so here it is!

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. established relationship, language, sexual content, unprotected sex, penetration, fingering, handjob, description of ejaculation, mathew barzal is a problem.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mathew barzal x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2k.

The gentle early light of dawn crept through the curtains and scattered across your face. The sound of a distant lawnmower mingled with the song of the morning birds on the easy April morning. Your boyfriend lay next to you, breathing a soft, rhythmic hum in the quiet room. The scent of his minty toothpaste tickled your nose, hinting at his ritualistic morning routine. You felt his warm hand splayed over your waist, his thumb tracing small, comforting circles. The softness of the mattress and the weight of his arm were familiar anchors in an unfamiliar space—his childhood home.

Mat had insisted the two of you stay at his parents' house last night after celebrating the Islanders clinching their playoff spot. The excitement from the game still lingered in the air, a faint buzz of energy that seemed to have seeped into the very fabric of the room. You, however, were in a state of tranquil bliss, your mind floating in a sea of contentment. You had worked tirelessly on your master's thesis for months, and now, it was finally done—the approval email hit your inbox in the middle of the game last night, your supervising professor's praise the sweetest victory of all.

Mat leaned over, his lips brushing your forehead, and whispered, "Happy birthday, gorgeous."

Your cheeks warmed at the realization that you had forgotten to mention it was your birthday to anyone but him. "Thank you, honey," you cooed, still nestled in the warm cocoon of the bed.

Mat's eyes danced with mischief as he suggested, "How about a little birthday surprise to start your day right?" He winked and gestured towards the door, the bathroom just across the hall. Your eyes narrowed, understanding his intent. You glanced at the clock—9:17 AM—his parents were probably downstairs already.

"Mat, seriously?" you whispered, trying to ignore the thrill that danced through you at the thought.

Mat grinned, his teeth flashing white in the morning light. "Come on, babe. Live a little. They won't hear us," he said, his voice low and persuasive. Despite your reservations, the excitement in his voice was infectious. He climbed out of bed, his tall frame moving with a comfortable grace. His hand reached back to you, and you took it, allowing him to pull you out of the covers and into his embrace.

You tiptoed across the cold hardwood floor to the bathroom with shared giggles, Mathew attempting and failing to silence your sneaky amusement. You couldn't help but feel like a teenager again, sneaking out with a forbidden boyfriend. The sound of the shower cranked up to full blast filled the room, and Mat stepped in first, the water cascading over his broad shoulders. He held out his hand for you, and you took it, stepping over the threshold. The heat washed over you, a stark contrast to the coolness of the house. You felt his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close, his warmth seeping into your skin.

Mat's eyes held yours as he whispered sweet birthday nothings into your ear, making your heart flutter against your bare chest, a silver 'M' perched between your breasts. The water streamed down your bodies, melding them together as one. His touch grew firmer, more urgent, as you kissed passionately under the showerhead. Your shyness melted away, replaced by a fiery need that matched his.

Your bodies intertwined, moving in a silent dance of desire. The steam thickened around you, turning the bathroom into a personal sanctuary. Your coils sticking to your back, your usual careful attention to your wash day routines thrown to the wind, a testament to the heat building between you. You both knew the risks—his parents' footsteps echoing below, Liana's room right beside Mat's room—but the excitement of your secret tryst only heightened the intensity of the moment.

You felt the warm water run down your face as you kissed, a perfect excuse to hide the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. Mat's hands roamed your body with the confidence of a man who knew every inch of his lover, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips and the small of your back. He picked you up effortlessly, your legs wrapped around his waist, and he pressed you against the tiled wall, the coolness starkly contrasting your fevered skin. You gasped into his mouth as he entered you, the sensation of his hardness overwhelming your senses.

"Mat," you whispered, a mix of pleasure and nerves in your voice as he carried you in the steamy shower, your bodies moving together in a passionate dance that seemed to have a rhythm all of its own. His eyes searched yours, a silent question that you answered with a nod, your eyes sparkling with excitement. You always had this unspoken understanding, a connection that went deeper than words.

He held you tightly, your legs wrapped around his waist, and you felt his muscles tense and release as he moved, the water droplets on his skin gliding onto yours. Your breath hitched as you felt the peak of your climax approaching, your body tightening around him. His kiss grew deeper, his grip stronger, and you knew he felt it too. In the haze of passion, you heard the creak of a floorboard outside the bathroom door, and your eyes shot open. But Mat either didn't hear or didn't care, his focus solely on you, his love and desire a wall against the outside world.

"Do you hear that?" You whispered urgently, your eyes wide as the sound of footsteps grew closer. But he was lost in the moment, the victory of last night's game and the excitement of the day ahead fueling his passion. He kissed you deeper, his hands roaming, and you knew he wasn't going to stop. The floorboards outside the bathroom door creaked again, louder this time, and you clamped your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your whimpers.

Mat looked down at you, a question in his eyes, but you could see the smug satisfaction there too. He knew you were close, and he wasn't going to let anything ruin it.

With a gentle kiss to your neck, he murmured, "Don't worry, baby," his voice was a soothing rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I got you."

He reached for the shower handle and turned the water to a pulsing massage setting, the thunderous beat of the water masking any sounds you might make.

Your movements grew more urgent, the beat of the water punctuating your silent cries of pleasure. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body arching back as his hips snapped in a particularly rough thrust, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm gonna come," he hissed, pulling out of you as you whined at the loss of his heat.

He set you down, the cool tile a stark contrast to the warmth of his body, and turned you around to face the showerhead. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he towered over you, the water cascading over your shoulders and down your back. You leaned forward, bracing yourself with a hand against the wall, your other hand reaching back to grip his throbbing cock. You felt a thrill of power knowing you could make this strong, elite athlete quiver with need.

Mat's breath hitched as you began to stroke him, your grip firm but gentle. The sound of the shower was a cocoon around you, muffling your breaths and the slick sounds of your skin moving against each other. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his hands slipping around your waist to cup your breasts. You could feel his heart hammering against your spine, his excitement mirroring your own. Mathew pulled your torso up to meet him under the spray of the shower head. Your mouths found each other, kissing fiercely, sharing the taste of mint and passion.

He whimpered against your ear, his straying hand faltering for a moment before finding the front of your body. His fingers slipped down, teasing your clit as you stroked him. Your breath caught in your throat, the pressure building as you felt his thumb rub circles around your swollen nub. The heat from the water and his touch was almost too much to bear.

Mat's breath grew ragged, his eyes squeezed shut as you worked him, your strokes matching the tempo of the water's pulsing beat. He groaned, his body tightening, and you knew he was close. You felt a thrill of excitement, your own climax just a whisper away. You could feel the tremble in his legs as he fought to keep standing, the head of his cock leaking against your hand.

Any discomfort in your spine melted away with the pleasure of his fingers on your bundle of nerves and the sound of his labored breathing and strained whimpers in your ear. You felt yourself teetering on the edge of an orgasm, your legs quivering slightly. The footsteps outside grew closer, but the anticipation only heightened your passion. Mat's hands left your breasts to hold your hips firmly in place as he thrust into your hand, his breath hot and needy against your neck. You could feel his muscles tensing, his release imminent.

Your hand quickened, your grip tightening just the way he liked it, and suddenly, he was coming, the hot spurts of him hitting your back as he groaned into your shoulder. You stroked him through it, the intimate moment making you feel powerful and loved. Your own climax crashed over you, your body tightening around the emptiness where he had just been, your hand slowing to a stop. You both panted, the only sound in the room save for the steady beat of the shower.

Mat leaned heavily against you, his forehead resting between your shoulder blades, his chest heaving with exertion. You felt a bubble of laughter form in your chest at your shared secret, at the absurdity of your desperate morning tryst. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so free.

The footsteps outside had long ago disappeared, replaced by the comforting sound of the shower. You remained in your embrace, facing each other head-on to delve back into a kiss, the water beating down on your intertwined bodies, the steam a tangible presence in the small space.

As you kissed, you felt Mat's hands slip away from your hips to glide up your body, his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing the water out of your eyes, and you realized you had been crying. Tears of joy and release mingled with the shower's flow.

He looked at you with a softness that made your heart swell, whispering, "I love you." You whispered it back, the words a sacred promise, a declaration of your unspoken bond.

You took your time, the water washing away the sweat and the evidence of your love. You felt the soap slowly soothing your over-sensitive skin as you basked in the aftermath. Finally, when the water began to cool, you stepped out, wrapping yourselves in a shared fluffy towel. You placed a shy peck on Mat's shoulder, whispering, "Thank you," your voice hoarse from your passionate whispers. He grinned down at you, his teeth bright and perfect, the same grin that had captured your heart so many months ago.

As you snuck back across the hallway to Mat's room, wrapped in your shared towel, you couldn't help the giggles that bubbled up from your chest. The thrill of your secret rendezvous had you feeling giddy, like you were high on love. Mat's hand squeezed yours gently, a silent reminder of the incredible intimacy you had just shared. You felt your heart beat quicken as you approached the door, the sound of muffled voices from downstairs growing louder.

You dressed quickly, your body still humming with the echoes of pleasure. Mat's playful swats to your ass as you stepped into your underwear only served to fuel the warmth that still lingered between your thighs. He pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, shorts, and a t-shirt, his eyes never leaving yours, the smugness clear as he watched you get dressed. The scent of him clung to your skin as you threw on a hoodie and shorts of your own, the fabric whispering over your sensitive skin.

[celiastjamesoscar]

Wildest Dreams

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you are helplessly head over heels for Sam, even though she despises you. But your relationship with her changes when you get in a lightly physical altercation with her.

Warnings: light sweating, reader accidentally walks in on Sam changing, small violence

My Masterlist

AN: if you have the time, I highly recommend reading ‘The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo’ and watching ‘Carol’ <3

Word count: 6.3K

For the first time in what seemed a millennium, you finally had the house to yourself. Anika was out with Mindy for a date, and your other roommate, Luke, was doing god knows what, probably out fornicating with one of his many boyfriends, but you didn’t care. You only cared about relaxing on the couch and rewatching your comfort show, Game of Thrones.

You grabbed your phone and a bowl of popcorn and went to the couch. You curled up with the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa as you turned on your show.

Tarantula: you up? ;)

The ‘ding’ from the text pulled you away from the tv, and you smiled when you read the text from your best friend, Tara. The two of you had met on campus in the library and instantly became friends. You two bonded over your love for books and shared a passion for horror movies, even though your opinions drastically differ.

Sam lover: maybe, it depends on who’s asking

Tarantula: you’re best friend in the entire world?? Who else?

Sam lover: mhmmm, okay. What are we doing?

Tarantula: movie night, obviously

Sam lover: sure, I’ll be over in ten

Tarantula: just a heads up, you’ll have to come in through my window

You raised your eyebrows at Tara’s message, ‘Why would I have to do that? I’ve been over before,’ you thought to yourself.

Sam lover: why?

Tarantula: because Sam is watching a movie in the living room, and we are hanging out in my room

Sam lover: fuck, okay. why does she still hate me?

Tarantula: I don’t know, but don’t make any noise when you come over. Sam can’t know and don’t try and hit on her if you see her

To say that you and Sam were acquaintances would be an understatement; Sam despised you, while the woman completely enchanted you. Sam was so tall and handsome as hell. She’s bad for you, but she does it so well; you could see the end as it begins. You admired her strength, both physically and mentally, and you loved the way she cared so much about her sister. And that was also your downfall; Sam believed that you were no good for Tara, as every time Tara did something stupid, you were always at the scene of the crime. Of course, Sam didn’t know that you were always there because you tried your best to stop Tara out of respect for Sam (and a shitty attempt at winning her heart), but she never listened when you tried to explain yourself.

You scoffed at your best friend’s words. She knew of your infatuation with Sam and loved to tease you about it. At first, however, she thought it was a bit weird as you were her best friend and thought you were using her to get close to Sam, but after she saw you turn down an invite to go with Sam and Mindy to the movies just to stay at home and play Mario Kart with her, she knew that you were the real deal.

Tara found it a bit sad, though, because every time you would talk to Sam, you would either get silence, a death stare, or a one-word reply, but she would rather die than tell you that she felt pity for your shitty attempts to talk to her sister.

Sam lover: I will not be held responsible for my actions when I am around a beautiful woman with big brown eyes

Tarantula: yeah, yeah, whatever. just get over here soon and climb in through my window; I’ll leave it open

Sam lover: sounds good. I’m omw

With that, you shut your phone off, grabbed your backpack and put a spare change of clothes along with a cable to charge your phone in it, and went towards Tara’s apartment. You enjoyed walking by yourself as it allowed you to be with your thoughts, and you couldn’t help it when you started to think of Sam. The gravitational pull you felt towards the older woman was something you couldn’t explain even if you had to; you just knew that you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt. You longed to get lost in those dark eyes and don’t even get started on those muscular arms; to you, Sam was perfect, and you would count all the stars in the sky if you could call her yours for a moment.

When you reached the street Tara lived on, you sent Tara a quick message asking her which side her window would be on, and she responded with ‘the one that’s close to creepy ass alley,’ which was all of New York in your eyes.

Sam lover: that’s all of NY, Tarantula

Tarantula: It’s across from the McDonald’s, five stories up. And stop calling me ‘Tarantula.’ It’s offensive.

You laughed at your friend’s reply before sending back a quick ‘huh uh.’ You walked around the apartment until you saw the McDonald’s and then the creepy ass alleyway and looked up five stories. And true to her word, Tara had her window open for you. You climbed onto the fire escape and slowly made your way to Tara’s window before sending her a quick text telling her you were here, only you didn’t see the message she sent back telling you you weren’t at her window.

When you pushed Tara’s window the rest of the way and climbed halfway in, you nearly died; Sam was standing in a towel with her back facing you as she grabbed some clothes from her dresser. When she dropped her towel, your heart exploded, and it felt like you were in your wildest dream. You admired her perfect curves, and then the leg that you had in Sam’s room gave out, causing you to fall into Sam’s room with a loud thud.

Sam turned around with a shocked expression before she quickly turned back to her dresser and grabbed a knife. You could not seem to pry your eyes away from Sam’s chest, and you swore you could feel drool fall down your chin. You were too busy trying to engrave Sam’s naked figure into your brain that you didn’t feel the blade fly into your left thigh.

“Sam, I am so sorry,” you said as you tried to stand up on your legs, but one gave out and screamed in pain. The only thing on your mind was Sam’s breasts that you swore looked like the softest pillows ever.

“What the fuck is going-Oh my god! What happened to your leg?” Tara exclaimed after bursting into the room, disregarding her sister, who finally covered herself with a towel. At the mention of something wrong with your leg, you finally felt the sharp pain shoot through your entire leg as you stared at the blade in your thigh.

“You’re weird friend just broke into my room and stared at me while I was changing!” Sam stated as she grabbed her clothes and stormed off to the bathroom, clearly not caring about your wound. Tara quickly ran to your side and knelt beside you, “I am so sorry about this, Y/N. I didn’t know that she also had her window open.”

You shrugged off Tara’s comment as you tried to move, but the pain was too much. You watched as your crimson-red blood steeped onto the room’s flooring and stained your clothing. “Come on, we have to get you to a hospital,” Tara stated, pulling you up to the floor and leaning your weight onto her. By the time Tara had entered the living room and to the door, Sam was dressed and had her phone and keys in hand. “I’ll take you to the hospital; let’s go,” Sam stated as she moved Tara off you and took her place. It was pitiful how your face heated up when you felt Sam pull your left arm over her shoulders and hold it while her right arm was wrapped around your waist, allowing you to lean your weight onto her.

When you reached Sam’s car, Tara opened up the back row door and helped Sam lay you down on the seats before she got into the passenger door. “Do not die in my car, Y/N. I don’t need you to haunt my car,” Sam dryly stated as she closed the door and got in the driver’s side. You don’t remember much of the car ride to the hospital; the only thing on your mind was seeing Sam naked, and no matter how hard you tried, you would never be about to erase that beautiful image from your mind.

One moment you were daydreaming about the beautiful goddess that had just stabbed you, and then the next, you were in a hospital bed with stitches in your thigh. For the life of you, you couldn’t recall what had happened, just that you saw Sam naked, and then she stabbed you. You saw yourself, in hindsight, tangled up with her all night in your wildest dreams. Someday when your mind leaves you, you bet that the memory of Sam will follow you around.

“Oh, thank god, I thought I was going to have to murder Sam,” Tara said as she moved from the chair in the corner of the room and approached your bed. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “What happened? The last thing I remember was being in the back of Sam’s car,” you recalled as you looked around the room and saw Sam, who was standing creepily in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“You passed out on the drive here. You should have seen Sam, though; she was terrified you had actually died,” Tara said with a small laugh as she remembered her sister’s frantic attempts to make sure you were still alive, and she also wanted to let you know that Sam slightly cared about you.

Sam scoffed at her sister’s words as she uncrossed her arms and walked toward you. “I was worried you were going to ruin my seats and then haunt my car,” Sam stated coldly, but her eyes betrayed her icy stature. You could see the way her eyes darted across your body, subtly checking to see if you were actually okay, and how she had her hands shoved into the pockets on her bomber jacket, slightly ashamed that she had hurt you.

Within the first encounters you had with Sam, you noticed how she always hid her hands when she was ashamed of something, and right now, all you wanted to do was reach out and comfort the woman. “Eh, I’m fine,” you shrugged briefly.

You talked to Tara while Sam stood around the room, looking out of place as she watched you with her sister. When the doctor came in, she gave you painkillers and told you could leave in the morning. “Could one of us stay here with her?” Sam asked the doctor worriedly when she was close to the door. “The hospital rules say we can’t allow non-family members to stay overnight, but I’ll let you stay with your girlfriend,” the doctor replied with a smile as she looked between you and Sam, clearly reading into some tension in the air.

Sam didn’t even have time to deny the doctor’s words before she left the room and shut the door, so Sam turned around with a scoff and was met with your drugged-out smile and Tara’s knowing one. “Well, Sammy, I will leave you here with your ‘girlfriend,’” Tara joked as she stood from the bed and grabbed her things.

“No. Tara, there is no way you are leaving here this late at night,” Sam replied as she followed her sister to the doorway. “Well, I’m certainly not staying here; I hate hospitals. And besides, Mindy is here to pick me up,” Tara replied with a smile.

She hated to admit it, but Sam was at a crossroads. She didn’t want Tara to stay here after the last time her sister was left alone in a hospital, and she also didn’t want you to stay here alone. She worried about you for Tara’s sake and definitely not because she felt terrible for being the reason you were here.

With a defeated sigh, Sam nodded and spoke, “Alright. Just let me walk you out.”

You watched the two sisters open the door and smiled when Sam stopped and looked back at you, “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“Okay, girlfriend,” you replied with a dopey smile, clearly enjoying the effects of the painkillers.

When Sam returned, she said nothing as she brought two chairs together and made herself an awkward bed. “You know, you can join me,” you suggested as you scooted over to the side, allowing Sam some room if she chose to sleep with you.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Sam replied as she got out a blanket and a pillow from the wardrobe and got comfortable on the chairs.

“Why not? I’ve already seen you naked.”

Sam rolled her eyes and laid her head on the pillow, and covered up with the blanket, “Do not mention that ever again.”

“Okay. I want to let you know you have a beautiful body, Sam. Your boobs are perfect! I mean, my god, the things I would do-”

“Please stop talking,” Sam interrupted you as she tried her best to fight off the fluttering feeling in her stomach at your words. She knew the painkillers were talking, but she couldn’t help but believe there was some truth to your comments. “Goodnight, Y/N,” Sam said after a few awkward moments of silence.

“Goodnight, girlfriend,” you teased as you got as comfortable as you could you a hospital bed before sleep consumed you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning, you were discharged from the hospital but had to walk around with crutches for a while. And to put it short, you hated it. Yes, having to walk around with them constantly clanking every time you walked got annoying, and how your armpits ached at the end of each day. But the worst part was that you couldn’t impress Sam with them.

Naturally, you were angry at Sam for throwing a knife in your leg, but you also shouldn’t have been staring at her while she was changing.

“Who even changes with their window open anyways?” Mindy asked one night while over at Tara’s apartment for dinner. You and Mindy had been invited over for a girl dinner with the Carpenters as you four sat around the dining table. The table had a dish of lasagna along with a salad bowl prepared, and you could not wait to eat the delicious food Sam had prepared.

“My room was hot, and I was letting in fresh air; I didn’t think someone would try and break in,” Sam stated as she made herself a bowl of salad with her lasagna.

“I did not break in. Tara invited me over and told me to go through her open window,” you said once you finished a bite of your food, “so technically, it’s her fault.”

Tara scoffed at your words while throwing a crouton at you, earning herself a scolding look from Sam. “Do not try and blame this on me; I texted you and told you that wasn’t my room, but you didn’t see it,” Tara replied.

“Why did you even tell her to climb through your window?” Sam asked with a puzzled look.

“Because, Sam, you would have told her to leave or probably stabbed her, but you already did that,” Tara dryly said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sam rolled her eyes at her sister's statement before focusing on her food.

“I was lightly stabbed, so it’s not that big of a deal,” you said.

“You were still stabbed, Y/N,” Tara replied annoyedly. She knew that you were weirdly happy about Sam stabbing you, but she tried her best to ignore it.

“Lightly stabbed.”

Mindy chuckled while looking at you, “Whatever. I still can’t believe she threw a knife at you; me personally, I would not let that slide.”

“It’s whatever; I didn’t even notice it until Tara came barging into the room,” you said while looking at Sam, who picked her food with her fork and refused to meet your gaze.

Mindy just laughed at your response before returning her attention to her food. The rest of dinner was filled with laughs and idle conversations, but you couldn’t help but notice how Sam didn’t participate in any of the conversations. You had tried to get her engaged, but she would either respond with a nod, a laugh, or a single word.

Sam felt bad for reacting the way she did, and she wanted to apologize to you, but she didn’t know how without bringing up the fact you slightly deserved it. So, when dinner was finished, and the rest of the group moved into the living room to watch a movie, Sam pulled you aside.

“What’s up?” You asked with a smile as you leaned on a crutch. It had been a couple of weeks since you were discharged from the hospital, so now you only walked around with one crutch.

That smile you gave her, Sam couldn’t find the correct words to describe it. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she wanted to kiss it off your lips. “Just so you know, you’re insufferable and intolerable. And I hate you.”

“Oh, okay,” you said with that same smile, fully knowing Sam was lying. Sam, on the other hand, desperately needed to get away from you, or she might do something she would regret. “Is there anything else you need?” You asked.

With a sigh, Sam asked, “Yes, actually. What are some books I could read? I’ve been trying to get into reading because of Tara, and I wanted to discuss them with her, and I need to have a few books under my belt before I do that.”

Your smile grew ten times bigger at Sam’s question, and the older woman wanted to murder you for it. “I have been waiting for ages for you to ask me that. I actually have a copy of my favorite book with me if you want to give it a try?” You asked as you made your way over to your backpack.

Sam followed behind you and watched as you moved around your sleeping clothes and pulled out a weathered book. It had different colored sticky notes hanging from the pages, and the edges around the book looked like they had their share of bumps and drops.

Sam grabbed the book and read the cover with a scoff. “Look, Y/N; I’m not reading a book about a woman who had seven different husbands. That’s just absurd,” the Latina said with a dry tone.

“No,” you replied as you placed your hand on Sam’s wrist, holding the book, “trust me, Sam. Just try it; it’s not what you think it is.”

“Alright, fine. If this book is better than it sounds,” Sam said as she looked around the room with a huff, “I guess I’ll treat you with respect or something.”

Sam didn’t even have time to react before she felt the hand on her wrist pull away and pinch her cheek. “I know you’ll love it,” you said with a cheeky grin as Sam slapped your hand away from her face. “Do not ever do that again,” she warned as she pointed a finger in your face.

“Yes, ma’am,” you responded with a salute before walking back toward the living room, “is there anything else you need?”

‘I want to take you on a date and then put your head on a stick,’ Sam wanted to say but said, “I’ll let you know what I think of it.”

You gave Sam a soft smile as you returned to the living room. Sam didn’t know what she was feeling toward you, but she eventually sauntered off to her room after realizing she cared about you more than friends do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, Tara; The Babadook is easily one of the worst horror movies ever made!” You exclaimed with your hands as you stared down at the more petite girl. You had finally gotten your stitches out and were no longer walking around with a crutch, so that meant a celebration night over at the Carpenter’s apartment.

“No, it’s not! You just hate it so much because it scares you!” Tara retorted as she hit the leg closest to her, which happened to be the one Sam lightly stabbed.

You moved your legs up onto the loveseat you were sitting on after she hit you, “Yeah, and also because it scares me so much! And don’t hit me, you little shit.” Tara scoffed at your words and stood up and grabbed one of her shoes, and was getting ready to launch it at you when the door to the apartment opened. She quickly dropped the shoe and stood facing the door with her hands clasped behind her back and an innocent smile, as if she wasn’t just getting ready to throw a shoe as hard as she could at your face. “What’s going on?” Sam asked when she saw Tara standing with a creepy smile and your shocked expression.

“Tara was-”

“I was getting up to order some pizza!” Tara interrupted you and sent you a death glare when Sam turned her back to hang up her purse. Sam turned around and looked between you two and ignored the shoe she saw by Tara’s feet; whatever her sister was getting ready to do to you, you probably deserved it.

“Okay,” Sam replied as she exaggerated the word before walking to her room, but not before sending you a glare. “Nice to see you, Sam!” you said with a smile while Sam huffed before slamming her door. “You are such a charmer,” Tara joked as she shoved your legs off the couch so she could sit next to you.

You scoffed at Tara’s words while you reached for the remote and pushed Tara off you when she tried to take it from you. “No! Down girl, down!” You said when you finally pushed Tara off of you. She scoffed as you turned on the tv before leaning back on the couch and putting her feet in your lap. You pulled her feet more into your lap and let your hand rest on her leg while you looked for something to watch. Naturally, Tara made it hard for you to pick something out because she refused to watch anything you wanted to spite you, but eventually, you settled on watching ‘Carol.’ You loved this movie more than anything, even though you cried every time you watched it.

For some unknown reason, Tara pulled her feet from your lap and left the couch roughly ten minutes into the movie. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she walked toward her room with her phone in hand. “Do you want me to pause it for you?” You asked as you reached for the remote but stopped when Tara told you not to wait up on her. You missed the devilish smirk she wore on her lips as she disappeared into her room.

You continued to watch the movie by yourself when you heard a door open up. “Finally! I was starting to think that you were leaving me here to hang out with Sam,” you said with a smile as you paused the movie and finally turned around to face Tara, but your smile faded once you saw Sam. “Oh, I’m sorry; I thought you were Tara,” you said with an embarrassed tone as your eyes refused to meet Sam’s piercing gaze.

The older woman huffed at your words before she went to the couch and sat at the opposite end while unlocking her phone, trying to keep as much space as possible between you two. “Tara texted me and told me that she felt sick and she didn’t want you to leave because it’s late at night and doesn’t want anything to happen to you, so she wants me to keep you company,” Sam read aloud her text messages between her and Tara before she closed her phone and set it on the coffee table in front of you guys.

“You don’t have to; I’m fine staying in here by myself,” you said with a polite smile while looking at Sam. The woman turned her head and looked at you before giving you the fakest smile you have ever seen while she lied through her teeth, “That’s alright, I’m good to stay in here with you.” The tension was so thick you could practically taste it on your tongue, but you held your breath and muttered a quiet ‘okay’ as you restarted the movie.

It’s not that she hated being around you after the incident; the only thing she wanted to do was kiss you and call you hers, but she was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same. Especially after she lightly stabbed you.

“Wait, why are you restarting it?” Sam questioned as she looked between you and the tv.

“Because you missed the opening scene, which is arguably one of the best scenes in the movie, and you also need to watch it to understand the ending better,” you reasoned with an honest smile while your gentle eyes danced across Sam’s face.

She didn’t know why, but after listening to your explanation of why the opening scene was essential and listening to your voice that was full of only love and admiration for this movie, Sam decided that she would actually pay attention to it, rather than send you hateful glances every once in a while.

So when the tv finally stopped the introduction, and it was Carol and Therese sitting together at a dinner table in a fancy restaurant, Sam picked up on the tension-riddled scene and couldn’t help but glance over at you. She noticed how your eyebrows furrowed, and your eyes danced between Carol and Therese as if you were getting ready to jump through the tv and become a part of the movie. Her eyes finally drifted down to your lips, and she noticed how your tongue was barely sticking out between your lips as you studied the screen, as if there was going to be something small in the background, and if you blinked, you would miss it.

“Are you even watching?” You questioned when you felt eyes burning into the side of your skull, but your own eyes never left the screen.

Sam awkwardly cleared her throat before speaking, “Sorry; you just seem really invested in this movie, and I thought it was funny.” You felt heat creep up the back of your neck at Sam’s words but shook it off as her being cautious of you. “It’s a great film, Sam. I think you’ll like it,” you replied with a gentle smile as you pried your eyes away from the screen to look at Sam before returning your attention to the tv.

When you said that she might like it, Sam took her eyes away from you and actually paid attention to the movie. When the sex scene came up, the air in the room became tense, as if both of you were holding your breath and holding back from one another. Sam tried her best to fight back the blush she felt, and she looked to you for help. You had your mouth agape, no matter how often you watched this scene, you were always enchanted by it, and you whispered, “I wish that were me.” Even though she tried to, Sam couldn’t come up with a retort for your comment; she also wishes she could do that with Cate Blanchett, but she also wishes that was her with you.

Sam then turned her attention back to the screen and had to fight any urges that she might have been feeling toward you. Her eyes never left the screen until the very end; only when she had to blink back the eyes that threatened to escape as she looked up at the ceiling. When the end credits rolled, you cleared your throat, tension still left over from the sex scene, “So, what did you think of it?”

“It was certainly something. It was a lot better than I expected, just based on your taste in things,” Sam joked as she subtly wiped the tears away in her eyes. You chuckled at her words, ‘if you only you knew,’ you thought as she stared at her with hearty eyes.

You quickly snapped out of your daze when you noticed Sam shuffling uncomfortably on the couch, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. And just so you know,” you said as you stood up from the couch, “I have an exceptional taste in things.”

Sam laughed at your words before standing up, “I highly doubt that.” You smiled at the older woman before making your way to Tara’s room; you had plans to murder the little shit for leaving you alone with Sam. “Goodnight, Sam,” you said with a smile as you opened Tara’s door slightly. Sam gave you a genuine smile as she went to her room, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

This was the first time you had had a direct conversation with Sam since she pulled you aside and asked for a book recommendation, and you wished you could have more conversations with the woman. She was smarter than she gave herself credit for, and the way she expressed herself through body language while talking was something you found attractive, to put it lightly.

When you entered Tara’s room, you saw the girl lying toward the foot of her bed with her laptop open, and you could faintly hear Toni Collette giving her ‘I am your mother’ speech. “So, how did it go with Samantha?” Tara questioned with a smug grin as you sat on the bed with your back propped against the headboard. You threw your legs up onto the bed and dug the heel of your right foot into Tara’s back, causing the girl to let out a small yelp before shoving your leg off of her and scolding you.

“Whatever, you deserved it,” you said as you crossed your ankles and left them next to Tara, who was still facing the foot of the bed. “And for your information, it was fine. She didn’t try and kill me again,” you joked.

“A win is a win,” Tara replied as she moved to sit next to you and put the laptop on your lap while she cuddled up next to you. You put your arm around her waist and placed a platonic kiss on her head right when Sam walked in.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can come back later,” Sam said as she looked down at the floor and turned her back to you two, embarrassed that she had just walked in on an intimate moment between you and her sister and ignored the pain she felt in her heart. “No, it’s okay, Sam,” Tara said while pulling away from you and silently encouraging you to go after Sam even though she was still in the doorway.

“I thought you were sick?” Sam asked with her back still facing you two. “Yeah, I can’t explain that one without unveiling my grand scheme of things plan,” Tara said while getting up from her bed and turning Sam to face her, “I’m serious, Sam. Nothing is going on between me and Y/N.”

Sam looked away from her sister and saw you sitting on Tara’s bed, smiling as you sent her a small wave. The woman scoffed at your actions before returning to her room.

Once Sam was gone, Tara closed the door, walked over to you, and hit you in the stomach. “The fuck was that, Y/N?” She whisper-shouted at you, “I basically admitted to having a plan of forcing you and Sam together, and you fucking wave at her?”

“I didn’t know what you wanted me to do!” You defended.

Tara sighed at your statement; she had laid the groundwork, and then just like clockwork, the dominos were supposed to cascade in a line because she’s a mastermind, but your dumbass messed it up. “Go talk to Sam. Right. Now. Or so help me God, I will violently murder you to death,” Tara commanded as she pulled you from her bed and pushed you toward the door. “And do not come back until you have talked to her,” and with that, Tara shut the door in your face and locked it.

You sighed before walking toward the living room. You thought about sleeping on the couch, but you knew Tara would probably draw a penis on your face while you slept, so you sucked in a deep breath before walking toward Sam’s door.

Sam heard a gentle knock of three intervals at her door, pulling her away from her note. “Just a minute,” she said as she finished her writing and slipped it into a preselected page in the book.

“What’s up?” She asked once when she opened her door and saw you.

“I just wanted to ask you about the book,” you replied with a smile that Sam wanted to kiss off your lips.

Instead of doing what she desired, she left her door open while grabbing the book and handed it back to you. “This is the saddest book I have ever read. Who would come up with such a thing?”

You chuckled at her words and accepted the book, “I know. I take it; you finished it?”

“Barely. But I finished it in one sitting,” Sam said while staring into your love-struck eyes. Sam swore she could feel herself getting lost in them, and she never wanted to leave your eyes.

“So, what did you think of it?” You asked.

“It was alright. Some pages were hard to read because of the tear-stained pages.”

You lightly laughed at Sam’s words, and the older woman felt her heart might explode if she heard that soft laugh again. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. This book really gets to me, you know?” You said while your eyes quickly glanced down at Sam’s lips, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked.

Sam cleared her throat, and you knew you had been busted. “So, I guess I’ll have to treat you with respect now,” she admitted through a tightened jaw.

“Or whatever,” you said with a smile, hoping Sam picked up the double meaning, and she did.

“Yeah, or whatever.”

“Just so you know, nothing is going on between me and Tara,” you clarified after a few seconds, and you set the book down on the couch behind you.

Sam knew that there wasn’t anything between you and her sister, but hearing those words leave your lips gave Sam a feeling of comfort she didn’t know she needed. “I know, Y/N.”

“Okay. I just wanted to clarify that before I did this,” Sam didn’t even have time to react before she felt your hands grip her neck and pull her into a passionate kiss. The way your lips felt like they had been made for her lips amazed Sam, and she finally felt her heart explode when she matched your intensity.

Your lips danced together as Sam deepened the kiss and pulled you by your waist closer to her. You felt her tongue push past your lips, and an involuntary moan slipped out, causing Sam to laugh against your lips. When you felt Sam’s hands drift toward the bottom of your shirt, you lifted your arms, and Sam got halfway into taking it off before you two heard a voice behind you, “Goddamnit, Y/N! I told you to apologize, not swap spit with her!”

You pulled away from Sam and turned to face Tara, who smiled knowingly. “Sorry,” you mumbled while fixing your shirt.

An awkward beat of silence passed while Tara looked between you and her sister with a sly smirk on her lips before she finally said, “I’ll leave you two to it,” and walked away.

“I’m sorry about that,” Sam said once Tara was gone. You turned to look at Sam, and you smiled at her swollen lips and blown pupils. You said nothing as you placed a final kiss on Sam’s lips that the older woman happily reciprocated.

“I should probably leave,” you mumbled against Sam’s lips, and she kissed you once more before pulling away. “Don’t forget your book,” Sam said while grabbing it for you.

“Thank you,” you replied with a tint of blush on your cheeks. Sam walked you to the door with her hand on the lower of your back, and you only wanted to run back into her room and throw Sam on her bed, but you doubted Tara would appreciate that.

When you reached the door, you placed a chaste kiss on Sam’s lips before opening up the door. “I’ll see you around?” You asked, afraid that this was a one-time thing.

Sam leaned against the doorframe, and she couldn’t contain the smile that pulled at her cheeks. “Of course, Y/N.”

You smiled at her and began walking down the hallway when Sam called out, “It's me and you, true blue.”

You placed a kiss on your pointer and middle finger before holding them toward Sam with a smile on your face. The woman laughed at your action and pretended to catch the fake kiss and her fist to her heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At home, you fall onto your couch and struggled to get your shoes off. Once they were off, you relaxed and pulled out the book and started reading it. When you ran your fingers over the pages, a small note fell out from the middle of the book and you moved to that page.

In the center of the page was a headline from Sub Rosa titled, ‘Evelyn Hugo and Celia St. James Slumber Parties,’ and you couldn’t help but laugh at the page.

When you opened up the note, written in the most beautiful penmanship said,

‘Want to go grab a milkshake with me sometime? I doubt we’ll find a place as good as Schwab’s, but we can try. We can also have ‘slumber parties’ of our own when Tara is away. ;)

All my love,

Samantha

Sam’

[tinytinyblogs]

Darling, i'm sorry..

After a fight, they need to make things right with you.

Hyung line, Maknae line

💬 Life feels like a rollercoaster, and here I am, still pouring my thoughts onto the page, hoping this time it's something worth reading.

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

Sometimes, Han’s tendency to overthink would get the better of him, especially when it came to his emotions. He found himself tangled in his thoughts, turning minor issues into bigger problems. That's often where the arguments would start—over something small and insignificant. He’d begin to complain, nitpicking every detail, and before long, his voice would rise, frustration spilling over. The tension would build between you two, creating a moment of distance, even though the argument itself didn’t seem that important. After a while, though, you would both take time apart, letting things cool down. Han would often sit in silence, reflecting on his actions. His eyes would wander to the closed bedroom door where you were, and he’d start thinking about the argument again. Slowly, it would hit him how much his overreactions could cost him. The fear of losing you, the one person he loved most, would wash over him, stronger than any frustration he’d felt earlier. In those moments, he realized that his biggest fear wasn’t the fight itself but the thought of pushing you away.

He took a hesitant step closer to the bedroom door, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, he stood in silence, contemplating everything that had transpired between you both. His heart raced as he reached out, his hand finally grasping the doorknob, and he turned it slowly, the soft creak of the door echoing in the stillness of the room. When he stepped inside and his eyes fell on you, he was struck by the sight of you silently crying, your shoulders trembling with the weight of your emotions. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he quietly closed the door behind him, wanting to create a barrier between the two of you and the outside world. He moved closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, as he settled down beside you on the bed. Without saying a word, he allowed his forehead to rest gently against your shoulder, seeking comfort in your presence. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability.

“It’s such a silly thing we fought about, and I never wanted to hurt you.” He lifted his head slightly, looking deep into your tear-filled eyes, and reached out to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. The tenderness of the gesture held a promise of understanding and love. “You know I love you, right? More than anything in this world,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “It hurts so much to even think about the possibility of you walking out of my life. I can’t imagine what that would be like.” His heart ached as he watched the pain in your eyes, and he knew that the love he felt for you was more profound than any argument they could ever have. He wanted nothing more than to bridge the gap that had formed between you, to reassure you that no disagreement could ever diminish the bond you shared. In that quiet moment, he hoped you could feel his sincerity, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to make things right between you two, to ensure that the love you both cherished would always prevail.

Felix

He often gets so absorbed in his games that it feels like he’s in another world, completely disconnected from everything around him. His intense focus blocks out everything, including you. You’ve seen it happen before—he becomes so fixated on his game that it's as if you’re invisible, no matter what you say or do. He doesn’t mean to push you away, but in those moments, it’s hard not to feel ignored and unimportant. It’s like he’s locked inside his own bubble, and you’re left standing on the outside. You try to be patient, but after a while, it becomes too much. You grab your things, deciding to leave. As you walk toward the door, frustration bubbling inside, you hear a shift behind you. He’s realized what’s happening. His head snaps up from the game, the characters on his screen frozen, as he rises from his chair. Losing the game is the least of his worries now. All that matters is stopping you from walking out. Just as you’re about to open the apartment door, his hand catches yours, gently but firmly holding you back. His touch is a silent apology, a sign that he knows he’s hurt you.

He held your hand, his eyes meeting yours, searching for something—understanding, forgiveness. His expression alone spoke volumes, conveying the apology he couldn’t put into words. For a moment, he stood still, the silence between you filled with unspoken regret. Then, he took a few steps closer, the faint sound of his game still playing in the background, left running—something he almost never did. It was a small sign, but enough to show you just how much his focus had shifted to you, and how much he cared in this quiet, vulnerable moment. "Don’t go…" he whispered, his voice soft but filled with an urgency that cut through the silence. It was low, almost pleading, but you heard it clearly. "Please, don’t go. I don’t want you to." His hand tightened around yours, his desperation growing with each passing second. He repeated, "I’m sorry, please… don’t leave me." His breath was shaky as he struggled to find the right words, his emotions getting the better of him. "You’re more important than everything… more important than anything else," he said, his voice breaking slightly.

"I know I messed up, but I can’t lose you. I’ll do anything, just… stay." His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of regret and fear, his vulnerability laid bare in those few words. His hand gently caressed your cheek, the warmth of his touch calming the tension between you. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there for a brief moment as if to silently promise things would get better. "Let’s do something together," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I’ll turn off my computer." He stepped back slightly, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel seen, as if all his attention was now on you. "It’s been a while since we did a cooking date, hasn’t it?" he asked, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. "Should we cook something special or maybe bake together?" There was a light in his eyes now, a spark of excitement as he tried to reconnect with you, eager to bring back the simple joys you once shared.

Seungmin

There are times when Seungmin’s words can be quite sharp. While you understand this side of him, knowing that he doesn't always mean to come across so harshly, it doesn’t change the fact that some of his remarks still hit you hard, especially when you’re feeling low yourself. In those moments, the weight of his words feels even heavier, like a blade slicing through an already fragile situation. The tension builds until both of you are trading hurtful words back and forth. Eventually, it escalates to the point where you and Seungmin decide to walk away, giving yourselves space to cool off. As you turn to leave, you catch a glimpse of Seungmin’s expression—his face is blank, almost emotionless, as if nothing you said got to him. But you know better. It’s just a mask he wears, hiding the fact that he’s upset, deeply wounded, especially when he watches you walk away. Seeing your back as you leave stings more than he’s willing to admit. His pride and ego hold him back from saying something right away, but after some time passes, you find him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, waiting for you.

The moment he spots you, he slowly drops his arms, his eyes locking on yours. For a few long, tense moments, neither of you says anything, both drawn into the silence that hangs between you, heavy with unspoken feelings. He lets you open the door first, quietly following you inside without saying a word. As the two of you sit down on the couch, the silence stretches between you, heavy and awkward. You sit side by side, close but somehow feeling distant. After what feels like an eternity, you notice him looking down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting nervously as he awkwardly caresses his own knee. There’s a tension in the air, thick with unsaid things. “I realized I was wrong,” he finally admits, his voice quiet but sincere. “I shouldn’t have said those things.” He pauses, his eyes still fixed on his hands as if he can’t bring himself to meet your gaze. “I didn’t mean it... you know me. I’m not good at expressing how I feel.” His voice trails off, and you can hear the struggle in his tone, the vulnerability that he so rarely shows. It’s not easy for him to admit his mistakes.

And the fact that he’s saying it now, in this moment, speaks volumes about how much he regrets what happened. He glances at you, noticing how you seem lost in your thoughts, your eyes fixed on the floor. For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of how to reach you. Slowly, he extends his hand and gently takes yours, his thumb brushing softly over the back of your hand in a comforting gesture. The warmth of his touch pulls you out of your thoughts, though you still don’t meet his gaze. “I made reservations,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. You look at him, a little confused at first. “At that restaurant you mentioned—the one you said you wanted to try.” His voice is soft but carries a hopeful tone, as if he’s trying to rebuild a bridge between you. Your eyes finally meet his, and you see the sincerity in them, the way he’s trying to make things right, to reconnect. “Let’s... go on a date,” he suggests, his voice a little more sure now. “I miss us. I miss our time together.” The words are simple but carry a weight of longing, and in that moment, you feel the gap between you starting to close, if only a little.

Jeongin

Jeongin's clumsiness had always been a part of him, something almost endearing in most situations, but this time it came at the worst possible moment. The argument had started over something small, but it quickly spiraled into something bigger—something that meant a lot to him. It was about one of those things he'd worked so hard for, something that he held close to his heart. Yet, in the heat of the moment, his words came out wrong. He felt cornered and defensive, and that only led to more hurt. Instead of fixing things, his attempts to explain himself only worsened the situation, breaking what he had worked so hard to build. The argument turned into a full-blown fight, and before he knew it, both of you were deeply upset. Jeongin hated it. He never wanted to be in this kind of conflict, especially not with the person he loved most in the world. But there he was, standing in the middle of it, and though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t stop. His pride had taken over, and his ego spoke for him instead of his heart.

He wanted you to understand his side too, but it seemed impossible to get his point across without sounding cold or distant. After the fight, Jeongin was left with a gnawing feeling of regret. He thought about it over and over, replaying the conversation in his head, wishing he'd said things differently. He wanted to apologize so badly, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too shy, too proud, too unsure of how you'd react. Several times, he picked up his phone, thinking about texting you, typing out the words he wanted to say. But each time, his fingers hovered over the send button before he ultimately deleted the message. He would stare at the empty screen, sighing in frustration, wishing he could express how he really felt without the fear of making things worse. Days passed, and with each one, Jeongin found it harder to think about what to say. The more time went by, the more he realized it wasn’t about finding the perfect words. He didn't need a carefully crafted apology or a long explanation. What he really wanted was to fix things, to go back to how they were before the fight.

So, without thinking about it too much, his feet led him to your place. There was no grand plan, no rehearsed speech. When he saw you, all the hesitation, the worry, the uncertainty melted away. Without saying a word, he walked straight up to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a sudden, unexpected hug. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent—the one he loved more than anything. His embrace was warm, a comfort you hadn’t realized you missed after days of distance between you. "I’m stupid," he whispered, his voice soft and regretful. "The fight was stupid." His arms tightened around you as if he was afraid to let go. "I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to break it, and I didn’t mean to scream at you." After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "I’ll buy a new one," he promised softly, his voice laced with remorse. "And I’ll make it up to you, to us. I’m sorry… I love you." His words hung in the air, filled with a quiet desperation to fix what had been broken, to start again.