#when i think like that maybe the memories that i remember should be enough you know??

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ requiem of a cringe

did something embarrassing last night and was like "I need to go crawl in a hole and die. OR I could write"

type of post: blurbs characters: cater, rook, jack, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (the term "damsel in distress" is used in vil's part, but it's meant to be teasing and not indicative of the reader's gender), reader is yuu, rook is rook

I. Talks Too Much

It's not that you're trying to be annoying.

Your mouth simply moves faster than your mind, and before you know it, you've been talking for twenty uninterrupted minutes about... well... nothing.

You always notice that uncomfortable, irritated look on their face just after you're done. And then you keep rambling in an attempt to make it less awkward (it never does).

And now you're here, hiding in the hedge maze outside Heartslabyul, thinking about getting lost and never coming out of it.

Of course, if anyone were to find you now, it'd be him.

"Hey, hon~ you busy?"

"Please, not now, Cater," you mutter.

The boy stills, looking a little taken aback by how miserable you sound.

"Are you still upset about that thing at the Unbirthday Party? That was hours ago, babe! I bet no one even remembers,"

You physically cringe. The faces of your uncomfortable tablemates won't seem to leave your memory...

"I remember it," you murmur, burying your face in your hands. "I'm so annoying."

For once, Cater is quiet. A minute goes by, and you think he may have left, until you hear the grass crunching under his knees as he kneels down and pulls you into a hug.

"You are not annoying. And even if you were, it'd only make me like you more," he mutters, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Understand?"

Your surprise at his change in tone doesn't stop you from hugging back. "Understood,"

You hadn't meant to say all of that.

You just spilled a potion you'd been working on for hours, and amidst your frustrated floor-scrubbing, you had vented about your entire week to your poor lab partner, a person you had been trying to impress all semester.

He had, gracefully, let you finish your rant, and then let you sit in it, just like the harmless potion now coating your knees as you cleaned up the floor.

Then, he awkwardly said: "That... sucks. I guess. I don't know what to say,"

There had probably never, in your whole life, been a person who looked more unhappy to be around you.

Afterwards, you found a nice spot in the woods behind campus to die.

You lie there, hoping nature would reclaim you before next alchemy class, when some purposefully loud rustling in the bushes catches your eye.

"Ah, Trickster! You really should not lie like that- a predator will take that as weakness, non? Are you injured?"

"Only my pride,"

"Talking about it will make you feel better," Rook says. It's more of a demand than a question.

You sigh. "I think I've done enough talking for... ever, actually,"

"Nonsense," he suddenly straddles your waist and pins your wrists to the earth. "I will not move until you tell me the problem, mon cœur."

You're like an animal in a snare. Once Rook has made up his mind, that's it. He will find out.

And so, with a sigh, you let him take the kill- that is, you tell him everything. Your whole, terrible week, the potion incident, the look on your lab partner's face...

When you're done, he's just. Smiling. "I see now. You are embarrassed,"

"Well... yes. You don't think that's embarrassing?"

He beams. "You are simply overflowing with beautiful emotion and passion for la vie! How could I ever find that embarrassing? You and I are not so different,"

In a weird way, that makes sense. Rook is never one to let shame hold him back from expressing his feelings.

He smiles at your pensive expression, and gives you a kiss on the head.

"Mais, next time you are upset, maybe you should come to me first, non?"

II. Clumsy

Forgetful, scatterbrained, oblivious, dimwitted are all words you've become used to hearing.

As well as a few colorful swears.

You have two left feet, even when you're not dancing- you're used to walking into walls, tripping, and dropping things- it just sucks that you have an audience now.

The first years that had gathered around the mess you made- tripping over your own feet and spilling the papers you were meant to deliver to Ace and Deuce all over the floor- are watching with grins and phones out.

You pretend they're not there, even with their taunts and whistles and laughter.

"Hey! Loitering is a waste of time!" someone barks. Literally.

You look up to see Jack moving through the crowd, scolding the other first years for blocking the hall.

When he sees you in the eye of the storm, on your hands and knees picking up your spilled papers, something upset takes his usually-stoic demeanor.

"What's the matter with you?!" he snarls at the boys. "Didn't anyone teach you any manners?! It's rude to stare- and laugh!"

His ears are flattened against his head when he kneels down beside you to help, collecting the papers, and putting them in your hands.

"Come on, we'll be late if you keep 'sittin there,"

Jack pulls you to your feet and gives one final snarl to the other first years before walking you off.

"...Thanks,"

"Eh? Don't mention it," he says. "Leona woulda had my tail if I just walked by..."

You know there's more to it than that, but you don't push. You're just happy he's forgotten to take his hand out of yours.

You can't handle being the center of attention.

For good reason, too- you're awkward, clumsy, and about the least graceful a person can get.

A true Ugly Duckling at a place like NRC. But Vil Schoenheit sees the swan in you. Perhaps that's why he's always been so patient and sweet.

It's a little distracting.

So much is obvious when he waves at you in the hall and, distracted by his smile, you walk right into a wall.

Though you can't see anything but stars after falling on your butt, the stares and snickers of everyone else are hard to miss.

Vil glares them away with a look that could kill twice over, and then stands over you as you lay on the floor.

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand. "I'll check you for concussion."

He brings you to Pomefiore and sits you down, shooing off a few curious underclassmen as he checks your pupils. "Do you feel nauseous?"

"Not really,"

"Then you'll be fine. Just a bump. You really should be more careful, though,"

You've heard that one before. Vil smiles at your dazed expression, and presses a cold compress against your head.

"This will help with the swelling,"

"Thanks," you mutter, still a little out of it. "You're my hero."

His eyebrows raise in true surprise, and then he chuckles. "And that makes you a damsel in distress?"

He doesn't give you a chance to respond before taking away the compress and kissing the red mark on your head.

"Don't think that being so cute is going to distract me. I'll make some time for lessons on poise this weekend,"

III. Unsociable

You'd think that being quiet and staying out of people's ways would get them to leave you alone, but it really just attracts more attention.

And after a grueling period of your tablemates making you the butt of every joke ("wow, I didn't know you could even talk!" "are you quiet because you hate us? come onnn, you can tell me!") you were ready to bury yourself alive.

"I don't ever want to leave," You mumble into the bundle of sheets and blankets on Idia's unmade bed.

"You could stay, y'know," Idia says from his desk, mindlessly scrolling through some gaming forum. "I should blackmail Crowley into letting you stay down here at least half the year."

"Couldn't it be the whole?"

"Nah. You need like, sunlight and stuff,"

"And you don't?!"

Idia snickers. "I'm built different. You know that. I get all my nutrients from blue light... You could at least stay for the weekend, though,"

You roll your eyes.

"...And I'll leak those normies' data. I'm sure I could get into their browser histories and have that emailed to their parents,"

Hm. You genuinely consider it for a moment, but eventually decide to give mercy. You're basically a saint.

"I think I just wanna pretend like I don't exist right now,"

Idia nods in understanding and pushes his gaming chair over to the edge of the bed, before crawling in and wrapping himself around you.

"That can be done. Pancakes tomorrow?"

Sure, there were people who talked to you, but you didn't talk back.

You just don't know how, you suppose. Every time you try, you end up saying the wrong thing, or are accidentally rude, or do something embarrassing.

You don't understand the references people make. You don't get social cues or hints. You have the social skills of an oyster.

Four months at Night Raven College, and you didn't have a single friend.

Well- except for him.

"How are you enjoying your tea?" Malleus asks, polite and curt as ever.

You take another sip- it's tangy, sweet, with a hint of bitterness. Some sort of Briar Valley blend that Malleus had imported just for you.

"I really like it,"

He smiles. "I'm pleased,"

One of the things you find so agreeable about Malleus is his simplicity. He often says exactly what he means; albeit, in a sort of 13th century Lord sort of way.

There's less stress with him. You don't have to pretend to be interesting, or outgoing, or cool. You can just be... you.

Because he likes you.

"You know," you say with a faint smile. "You're so nice to me. Sometimes I think that you're the only person I need. I could be happy with just you for the rest of my life."

You had meant that casually, but when you look back up from your cup, Malleus has this... look.

Wide-eyed, his lips pressed firmly together. There's even a dusting of color on his cheeks.

"Oh," you internally panic. Was that too much? Was that weird? Did you make things awkward again? Crap, you should have just acted normal, what's wrong with you?! "S-sorry, I-"

"Do you truly mean that?"

You go quiet, looking back at him with wide eyes. Your heart is pounding against your chest.

"...Yes,"

Malleus hums, his expression becoming more... pensive, and then...

He smiles. "I feel the same. Shall we go for a walk while the night is still young?"

[oriorchids]

@anxiousapplepie 's roleswap au is really cool so!!

made some special attack cut-ins! one for each character/role (funnily enough three are from traveller!odile's universe)

some more thoughts under a read more

siffrin (researcher)

- first one i did

- he has stars in their eyes!! though one is much easier to see than the other

- remember that one idea about sif using their prosthetic to blind people? i think his special friendquest attack would be smth similar. light blast that stuns an opponent for a turn like that one sasasaap sadness

- if everyone else is stunned he doesn't have to worry about being the slowest in the party. or getting hit when they aren't in their shell/cloak.

- i spent a good while just trying to figure out their expression

- astronomy name? light pun name? flash of genius?? supernova?

mirabelle (fighter)

- mira is about to kill a man, or maybe a strong sadness. good for her

- i spent a while just trying to figure out how to pose her

- i think she'd either get a giant paper-type attack (to make up for a lack of paper a V) or a really big self-buff. maybe a giant paper attack that gives her an attack buff afterwards

- isabeau in canon has a lot of support moves but considering mira's party (housemaiden siffrin traveller bonnie) i think she should be more of a dps. researcher!isa can still be a support

- oh or!!! maybe she heals herself/the party some of the damage she deals.

isabeau (chef)

- may or may not have referenced the sasasaap true ending a bit

- i think the cut-in would appear whenever he runs in to take some damage for someone else

- after friendquests he might be able to counterattack? probably for more damage than bonnie could

- there would probably also be a change for when isabeau's hp is low

- somehow his cut-in ended up the smallest

- imagine if you will: cook!isabeau running in the way of the king trying to grab housemaiden!bonnie during the kingquest end

odile (traveller)

- JUST ATTACK BABYYYYY

- massive paper type move that gives no jackpot points. king will die instantly

- grabbed the way she holds her book in the jackpot

- took the longest to draw her hands i had to take a picture reference

- journal has a blank cover

bonnie (housemaiden)

- i thought it would be funny for bonnie to run across the screen every time instead of getting a formal cut-in but i did consider the formal cut-in briefly

- i think bonnie's special friendquest skill would be a really good revive all/heal all because of memory of promise in canon

- also there is no way bonnie isn't getting stressed from being a kid on a pretty much doomed mission (without the loops)

- wonder how many times bonnie's heard pity from people. including the party!! this child is the saviour of vaugarde

- at least if they work hard enough no one else will get hurt!!!

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

Warnings: incest

Notes: So, this chapter has a sex scene right at the beginning, but I won't post that because I have some shame. However, here is the link if you wanna read it.

As a child, Sarah used to sneak into Rafe's room. Ever since she learnt how to walk. She slept better in his bed. In his arms. She did that for years. Her mother thought it was cute. Ward not so much. And now she was doing it again.

Memories of what went down last night assaulted her when she awoke. There was a soreness between her legs, from what happened last night. Because of what she did. What Rafe did. What they did together. 

She should feel terrible about it. That was a lot of moral barriers crossed in one night. But Sarah didn't really care. It didn't feel wrong. It felt right.

"Morning" Rafe mumbled sleepy, stirring behind her. He tensed, probably remembering what happened last night. What he did "Fuck. Sarah, I'm—"

"I love you" a confession finally said out loud "Like a sister, but not only like a sister" she gulped "Do you—"

"Yes" his arms tightened around her waist "I love you. I have for a while"

"How long?"

"I think I always... romantically, at least since I was seventeen. I think, it gets blurry"

Because of the alcohol and the drugs. He didn't need to say that out loud, she knew. Seventeen. That would make her fourteen. That was the summer he started drifting away from her. 

Pieces and places.

"What do we do now? With this. With us"

Rafe kissed her neck, one time, two times, three times. Sarah giggled.

"Ideally? Live our lives together. Keep it a secret"

"Is that what you want?"

It was what Sarah wanted, but if he didn't...

"We'll figure it out" 

Would they? How can they figure out something? Committing incest was a crime. But it was true, that so long as they had enough money they could avoid the possibility of going to prison for it. But it would be Rafe who would face the possibility of prison. And that thought terrified her.

"Yeah. I should get ready for school" immediately, Rafe let go of her. It made her feel sad. The loss of his arms around her "I'm going to the shower" she sat in bed, hugging the sheets to her body "Can you pass me my shirt?"

Rafe didn't have the same shame as her, apparently, because he didn't seem bothered as he walked around the room. He threw her the shirt with a smirk. She grabbed it, her face burning at his nakedness and her own.

"I already saw you naked, don't know why you're so shy now"

"Shut up" 

Sarah put on her oversized shirt and grabbed her bikini on the way to her room. Maybe she needed to leave some of her clothes there. No, no, he was going to change rooms. She could leave clothes in the wardrobe of the new room.

"Sarah?" She froze. Wheezie was looking at her with her mouth open and her eyes, for once, not on her phone "Are you naked? What the fuck?!"

"I have to shower" she pretty much ran to her room, ignoring Wheezie's shouts and the pain she felt.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Wheezie knew. Wheezie saw. She would figure it out. And what would happen then? Her sister wouldn't tell on them, or at least she didn't think so. But what would she think of them? Would she hate them? Be disgusted by them?

Probably. We are sick and twisted.

Sarah took a quick shower, scrubbing the dried blood on her inner thighs. She had bled. Shouldn't be too surprising, it did hurt at first. But she didn't have time to dwell on that. No, time was running out. She needed to talk to Wheezie and then she had to go to school.

As she brushed her hair in front of the mirror, her gaze fell on the bite mark that decorated her neck. Fuck. She needed to hide that. Why couldn't the day be cold? If it was cold her clothes would hide it. And no one would question her for wearing a scarf. 

No scarf now, but a ribbon could do. She had a couple of ribbons wide enough to cover the bite mark, and mixed with a little makeup, the mark was pretty much invisible. She hoped, at least.

It took her a couple of deep breaths and a lot of convincing herself to actually go downstairs. To face her little sister, if she was there. And she was in the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools at the table. Rafe was there too, silently eating cereal. He smiled when he saw her.

"Wow, you guys are so gross" Wheezie commented lightly. And it was that, a teasing tone, not a judgemental one. Like a kid who sees her parents kissing and thinks it's disgusting "Stop it"

"We haven't done anything"

Wheezie glared at her.

"You two have fucked, which is super gross, but it's not that"

"You don't mind?"

She shrugged "It's you two. I'm not surprised. You have always been attached by the hip, for as long as I can remember. Then you had two bad years and now you're back and more obsessed with each other than ever. I don't care, guys, just don't kiss or anything in front of me"

"Done" Rafe finished his cereal just as Sarah sat at the table, grimacing at the action. She was so fucking sore. Thankfully, Wheezie didn't notice "When did you get back anyway?"

"I don't know. Before two in the morning for sure"

"Please tell me you didn't walk back home alone"

"Nothing ever happens around here, besides I always carry the pepper spray and taser that Rose gave me. You don't?"

"I don't go to places completely alone" Sarah sighed and took a bite of her toast "Why didn't you stay at Sandra's?"

"Ugh. Her boyfriend dropped by and she pretty much kicked us out. So rude"

"That is rude" Rafe agreed with a nod. He checked the kitchen's clock before standing up "Hurry up, we have to go"

They dropped Wheezie at school first and made her swear she would never tell anyone about them. Her sister seemed to understand the importance of keeping quiet, so she agreed.

"You know, we could go to the beach later" Rafe commented, trying to sound casual. She knew him better than that "Like, just the two of us"

Sarah smiled "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Maybe I am"

"Well, then, maybe I would like that"

Sarah looked through the car window, biting her lower lip, her face flushed. They reached the high school too soon, in her opinion. She couldn't wait until it was over and she could spend all of her time with her family and friends. There were some doubts in her mind, about going to college. Rafe didn't know yet, but she'll tell him.

"See you later" Sarah leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek before leaving the car.

"You two sure are close now" You have no idea. Kie pretty much dragged her inside, because Sarah was having trouble walking fast "What happened to you? Why are you walking so weirdly?"

Oh, fuck.

"I fell" yeah, that was a good excuse. A believable one "So I can't really walk at your pace"

"Oh, sorry" her friend apologized "What's with the ribbon?"

Her fingers touched the lace of the ribbon. It was pink.

"I was watching Buffy, and it gave me some fashion ideas"

Her mother used to love that show. They watched it together when she was a child.

"It looks cool. Suits you"

"Thanks"

Sarah looked at the building, dreading already all the hours she would have to spend sitting on a hard, cold chair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pope had never expected to befriend Sarah Cameron, much less Rafe. If whatever truce they had could be called 'friendship'. But there he was, spending at least one day a week in Tannyhill. Drinking Rafe's whiskey (he did it once and is never doing it again) and eating his food. Swimming in his pool.

He had been hesitant at first, in believing Rafe was actually sorry. That he was actually trying to change. But it seemed like he really meant it. And that was why he had gone to Tannyhill when his father received a letter. A threatening letter. He'd gone to Tannyhill because of all people he knew, Rafe was the only one who was really dangerous. And because somehow, in the past few months, Tannyhill became a place of reunion for the Pogues. They were all there.

"So, this guy wants a key, what key?" John B questioned out loud after reading his letter "It literally just says 'the key'"

"It's not very descriptive" JJ agreed "What did your dad say?"

"That he has no idea what that means" he grabbed the letter "But check this out, look at the name. C. Limbrey, doesn't it ring a bell?"

He could tell by everyone's face that it did, in fact, not rang any bells. Pope sighed.

"The captain of the Royal Merchant was a Limbrey. So, I think this has something to do with the gold"

"We know a Limbrey" Sarah commented lightly. She was sitting on her couch, a blanket over her legs and a ribbon around her neck. She was walking weird that day. She fell, or so she said. Pope didn't know what to make of it "Charlotte? I don't actually remember her name. I was like eight last time she came around"

"Carla" Rafe placed the empty glass, previously filled with whiskey, over the table "Her name's Carla. She was a cousin of our mother"

"So...you guys are Limbreys?" Kie raised her eyebrows to remark her words.

"We are Redfields" Sarah's voice was clear and precise, probably bothered by the comment somehow. Then again, he would be bothered too if someone told him he came from a family of slavers "But our maternal grandmother was a Limbrey. So, Carla is our first cousin once removed. Which means we can help you, Pope"

"Yeah, we'll call her. See what she wants"

"Would she tell you?"

Rafe shrugged "Don't know. She was close to our mother, but didn't really show up after her death. But for what I heard she is dying, been so for years"

"That is a good excuse to not show up, actually" JJ took a fistfull of chips and swallowed them. He was a messy eater "What can she do to you, anyway? We're rich now"

"Yeah. We're kooks now"

"We're new money, she's old money. She has connections we don't. Not to mention she practically owns Charleston" he explained a little exasperated.

"Thank God we don't live in Charleston"

Rafe grabbed his phone, previously left by the empty glass, and dialed a number. Pope felt anxiety moving to his heart. It was always in his body, but sometimes it was still and did nothing. Others, it moved.

"What are you doing?!"

"Calling her" he could practically the 'duh' in his voice.

"You have her number?" Sarah asked surprised, because apparently that was something important.

"So, are we gonna threaten her or..." Pope glared at JJ.

"We are not going to threaten her" John B said as if he hadn't had worst ideas. Then, he looked around "Right?"

"I'm just saying, we have guns and we are not dying. So maybe she should be scared of us and not the other way around"

Rafe rolled his eyes, and honestly he could relate to that.

"Hey, Carla. This is Rafe Cameron, yes, Bessie's son. I was wondering if you could come over to Tannyhill, to discuss something important. Business plans. I have a lot of money now, as I'm sure you know" Carla had to say something that he didn't like, because his eyes went empty and cold. That did not help his anxiety "Yeah, so sad. Poor dad. Anyway, when are you free to meet me? Tomorrow? Good. See you tomorrow, Carla"

He hang up the phone, his empty eyes only filling up with life again when they fell on Sarah. He sat by her side, their shoulders touching. It was weird. Pope didn't have any siblings, but he was pretty sure they usually didn't act the way Rafe and Sarah did.

There was something he wasn't catching.

"Dude" only by those words he could tell JJ was about to say something insensitive "You really fucking hate your dad, huh? Not judging you or anything, it's just that I have never met anyone who hates their parents so much"

"Yeah, well, he's a piece of shit"

Something sad shone in JJ's blue eyes, a clearer shade than Rafe's. Pope felt the urge to hug him.

"Happens"

"It does" Rafe's fell over Sarah's thigh, squeezing lightly. Pope didn't think anyone other than him noticed that.

He didn't know what to make of it.

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[cursed-spirit-manipulation]

lot of ppl upset abt the lack of. Any Real Acknowledgement of Gojo dying and I'm not saying they're wrong but I did realize that I think that's pretty much just how JJK is. Like Riko died. Anyway. Kuroi maybe? We don't know. Haibara died. Ok. Geto died. Like that's a big part of the plot but Gojo doesn't tell the first years SHIT about him. They just know there's a weird monk fucking everything up (and that's fucking Kenjaku lmao). Nanako and Mimiko. Nanako and fucking Mimiko. Like I'm not saying this is... Okay I'm mad about Riko bc like. She's a big part of the reason Geto BECAME A MASS MURDERER I'd enjoy if he mourned her more. I JUST REMEBERED THAT YUKI DIED. And Choso. ANYWAY I don't think this is Terrible Storytelling bc it does feel indicative of the way Jujutsu Society treats sorcerers (and potentialy civilians) where you're just expected to fucking Move Along. And I think there might be something genuine in Gojo, being a part of that system, still feeling like what he wants is to fade away after he dies, arguably showing that in the end he is the same as everyone else, he's human, he's mortal. And that being both a genuine desire and warped coping mechanism, and the way that's hard to truly parse. But also it does kinda sucks when the characters seem to straight up Forget the ppl who died... Like. Sorry I just got so mad Abt Larue and Miguel and THEY DONT EVEN TALK ABOUT NANAKO AND MIMIKO? TBEY TALK ABOUU MISSING GETO BUT WE CANT GET A SINGLE FUCKING MENTION OF HIS GOD DAMN DAUGHTERS? anyway the treatment of death in JJK is a good Foundation for themes and emotional resonance but uhhh Gege kinda sucks at writing so it's. It's eh

[fivefeetfangirl]

'Babe are you okay you haven't done your 91w posting today'

HSJDHSJDH NOO 😭😭😭😭😭

my phone shut down and wont work so i spent the whole day in the car NOT reading 91w like i wanted to. im not kidding i spent almost 10 hours in a car WITHOUT 91W!!! my hands are shaking i need to read

[basedhoya]

I still get a little lost in my feelings about you. I still wonder that if you were upset with me why did you bring your hands to my face that day. why did you untuck my hoodie from behind my ears so gently in front of all your friends before I left, smiling saying what’s this? causing me to remember I left my headphones and almost forgetting them, and you laughing, saying oh that’s why. I still think about it because it’s the last time I got to see you. Before I utterly destroyed everything. I can’t forget the way you looked at me, the way you would smile at me, and the way you touched me. I wish I could fix things but I don’t know how anymore. I’m just sorry we didn’t meet when I wasn’t such a mess.

[tsukimirecs]

nekoma // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works + the synopsis for each fic belongs to the author who wrote the fic

kuroo tetsuro

taste test - kaientai

synopsis: when you taste the same thing as your soulmate, things get interesting

red all over - meldve

synopsis: you are trapped in an elevator with your work rival, kuroo. what else could go wrong?

your name - tsukisemi

synopsis: kuroo finds you really cute, too bad you keep giving him a fake name every time you come into the coffee shop he works at

public transit - orphan_account

synopsis: your heart pounded, knowing you were being touched, and he was watching you.

but when he loves me - sweetcandyliar

synopsis: there are so many ways that kuroo tells you he loves you.

somewhere only we know - wanderwithme (wanderlustt)

synopsis: four times kuroo proposes to you - and the last time he does

meeting the boys - orphan_account

synopsis: in which no one really believes kuroo could get a girlfriend as incredible as you

落葉 | rakuyou - deltachye

synopsis: maple leaves are most beautiful in which they have died, falling slowly, waiting patiently to be reborn

riverbank - itsleese

synopsis: you're reminded of the little boy you loved way back then, the riverbank you played at together. maybe you should go see it?

caring cats - haikyuu_philia

synopsis: nekoma is family

disrupted meetings - sansos

synopsis: dr. tetsurou kuroo’s research group has transitioned to hosting meetings online. what could go wrong?

cat ears - just__j

synopsis: kuroo approaches you, captain of the girls club, with a proposition of a bet for the losing captain

kozume kenma

change the channel - alkale

synopsis: "i want to buy your game from you"

kodzuken does not have a girlfriend - bunnytime

synopsis: it has been a running joke that kodzuken lies about having a girlfriend for years now. needless to say, his fanbase is convinced he doesn’t really have a girlfriend

second place - yourqueenhasarrived

synopsis: kenma forgets your anniversary and once again pushes you aside for his gaming career. how much can you take?

an inconvenient crush - the_only_iris

synopsis: kenma has had the biggest crush on twitch streamer, (y/n). what happens when their paths cross?

learning process - nomazee

synopsis: you and kenma always had an interesting dynamic. kuroo found it nice for everyone involved

thank you for being a friend! - heichoe

synopsis: ”if it helps: when you gave kuroo head in high school, he said it was great"

yaku morisuke

who dares speak aloud these words (intended for the heart to speak) - sunmoonstarsrain

synopsis: yaku bursts into her life like a hurricane, even whilst akaashi lingers on like the memory of a summer breeze

artists eyes - teapots_and_teacups

synopsis: yaku was used to being ignored on the court

if only i were selfish - this noodle writes

synopsis: yaku was anything but a selfish man, but being selfless had cost him you once before. so, when he gets the chance to see you again, will he finally be selfish enough to try?

note: as you can tell, i'm trying a different recommendations style- what do you think? do you think i should switch back to the first one or is this one better? would love to know your thoughts

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[obsessiveloveistheonlylove]

Yandere bruce wayne with neglected!daughter reader

Seen a bunch of neglected reader fics recently but I haven't seen one of a Reader who slowly starts to take advantage of the situation and uses batfam for their money and connections so here's this! This only focuses on Bruce for now but if anyone is interested I'd be willing to do some for the other batfam members + hcs for when/if they snap and kidnap the reader. 

Was suppoused to headcanons but ended up more as long rambles than anything lol mainly set up for later posts detailing the situation

Pt1 it got too long, word count ; 2461

Unedited

___

Bruce is absolutely the most susceptible to this behavior, he feels the most guilt about the situation (as he should for being a neglectful father) and he is not going to lie to himself to try and save face and make himself feel better and if he does it's only for a short while before reality slaps him in the face and he has to see the truth. The truth is that there is no one to blame but himself.

When he first noticed your disappearance it had happened slowly… entirely too slow when he really took the time to think about it. You had been gone for a full year and he hadn't even noticed? Were you even old enough to be on your own like that? Something he felt ashamed that he even had to ask. When Alfred informs him that you're nineteen just this month he's shocked not only that you're an adult and that he didn't even realize your birthday had passed but that he couldn't even remember your face. He searches his memories for your Visage but all that he can recall is murky; he can't even remember the correct shade of your eyes or your hair and it startles him how long has it been since he took the time to properly look at you? 

It takes some time but eventually he remembers your face with sudden clarity, he hadn't seen it in a while and the only image he could conjure up was when he first saw you, a small helpless looking child left on his doorstep by commissioner Gordon.  your eyes held the same dull glassy look that his did the night his parents died, you had lost your mom in a similar vein he felt he could relate to at the time. he remembered seeing you and feeling sad for you but not in the way a father does for his child the way he felt was the same way he felt as Batman seeing victims in Gotham streets you didn't deserve this life but you weren't anyone close to him. 

His chest aches and he remembers the way you'd clung to him your first week in the manor and then the way you wilted when he shut that down, it wasn't like he was trying to hurt you but he couldn't have you following him around everywhere especially not when gothams crime was getting out of hand even with the other members picking up his slack. So he reprimanded you, way too harshly now that he looks back on it he knows he only meant to keep you from discovering his secret but he could have worded it better instead he made it sound like you were a burden. Maybe you were to him at the time he thinks and is disgusted with himself for even letting the thought cross his head. 

He reads your diary page after page until he reads through the whole thing. The first few pages are hopeful but solemn detailing how much you missed your mother but you're glad that you have a whole new family and you hope that they will like you, it's heartbreaking to read that kind of childish hope turn into sadness and then hate. You detailed how no one would make time for you that you'd tried everything to get their attention but you'd get blown off by each one it turns into rants about you asking what was wrong with you and why no one ever spent any time with you the writing was scribbled on so he knows you did it in a hurry just to vent out your frustration. The part that hurt most were the pages about him, you had nothing good to say about him in fact in one of the pages you had written that you didn't have much to say about him at all that you hardly knew him and barely saw him once a month and couldn't even call him your father. 

Surely that couldn't be true right? He's not the best father figure by far but he always tried to make time for dick, Tim, Jason, Steph, Damian and Cass ... .surely he did for you. 

He tries to find memories of him being a good father or at least trying to be any kind of father figure to you at all but he can't he can only see the times he rejected your pleas to spend time with you for things he deemed more important than you he sees it clearly each time he rejected you how you got sadder and sadder how you seemed to wilt at each and every rejection until you stopped asking. 

he tries to tell himself that he did it for your protection that he just didn't want to get you involved in the crime fighting scene and since gothams streets were never without crime he spent an exorbitant amount of his time as Batman down in the batcave or out fighting crime with his other children and that's why he couldn't spend time with you. And that's why he seemingly had so many memories with them in the recent years; hell even in the recent weeks he has more memories with dick and the others than he ever had made with you. he tries to use it as an excuse to mask the truth; that you didn't matter in the grand scheme of his life, at least not then but he's going to do everything to make this right.

You'll be surprised to suddenly get a ton of texts from an unknown number even more so when you find out it's from bruce. Suddenly he's asking you how you've been, how was the move, are you in college right now, what major did you take? Obviously you're taken aback when the man who acted like you didn't exist suddenly wants to know everything about you. You would think he'd needed something but you know better than that what could he possibly need with you now? You don't have any money and he wouldn't need that anyways. Maybe he's dying and needs a kidney or something…whatever you don't care that man can rot. 

You leave his messages on read of course, because you don't owe him a response and well maybe to be a bit petty and give him a taste of his own medicine. You don't know how bitter the taste is in Bruce's mouth, he knows you've seen them so why won't you respond? Bruce usually isn't a multi texter but he'll send more and more trying to get any kind of response out of you, he's constantly checking his phone hoping to see three little dots appear and he's noticeably slightly more angsty when out patrolling with the others. 

The texts were annoying but you could mute his notifications and after the first few weeks you basically forgot about the texts going about your normal life until he started calling. It seemed like he was always calling Day in day out, you blocked his number because of how annoying it was but he always just gets a new one leaving the same text “ hey your name its dad” and then the calling would resume. 

One day you pick up and Bruce sounds so relieved when he says your name into the receiver you figure he might really need that kidney if he sounds this excited to see you.

When you answer back he knows you aren't excited in fact you sound completely disinterested in him which takes him by surprise, isn't this what you wanted? What you cried for in your diary begging God that your father would notice you. You're older now so maybe you just aren't looking for that kind of attention anymore, the thought haunts him the idea that he could never truly make it up to you still he pushes through his voice sounding nervous as he starts to tentatively ask about your day. You cut him off with a scoff after some terse conversation telling him to just get to the point already and stop wasting your time. 

The silence is deafening and you almost hang up before he croaks out a response “sorry name, I just wanted to know what you were up to I know we uh.. haven't talked in awhile I just wanted to hear from you and know that everything was alright”  could this really be your father? He sounds so pathetic to you at that very moment, nothing like the confident man you saw on television often nor the man you saw taking care of everyone but you. 

And no nothing was alright you were working a job you hated in some shitty little apartment in Gotham that you had to fear if it would get broken into or not because the damn landlord wouldn't change the faulty locks a rage takes you and you just let it all fall out cursing him for your shitty life and the shitty apartment and for being a shitty father letting all that rage out until you're left heaving.  its silent after your outburst you think he might have hung up but after a moment he offers to pay for a new place and offers to pay your current rent until you can break the lease and that he will take care of you and not to worry about anything financial telling you to quit your job and to send him your bank so he can get things sorted out.  

At first you wanted to vehemently deny this, wanting to prove to yourself that you didn't need him or his help but something In the back of your head tells you to accept it, that if he expects anything back for it then that's his fault for assuming. So you tell him and soon there's a large sum of money in your account more than you have ever had in there. For once you can actually afford to treat yourself instead of eating shitty microwaved ramen, and so you dine out in a nice reasonably expensive restaurant with your friends and you enjoy yourself. 

A week passes in silence and then he's sending you pictures of luxury apartments telling you to pick out any one you want and that he'll get everything settled and you almost can't believe this. Would he actually pay for something so outrageously expensive? You almost doubt it but once your lease is up Bruce is at your door helping you move out any furniture you wanted to keep which was almost nothing seeing as everything was already worn out anyways. 

You didn't say much to him and he seemed to realize you were in no talking mood so he allowed you to be quiet and told you about himself instead talking about the boys and what he'd been working on recently, it feels like what he should've been for you years ago an interaction you'd have killed for when you were fourteen and it just pisses you off so you turn on the radio instead to drown out his words. You don't care how he's doing, you don't want to hear about dick or damian, you're only accepting his help because you're tired of living in that shitty apartment. The ride is otherwise silent except for the annoyingly upbeat pop music which would probably make Damian or Jason have an aneurysm if they had to listen to it. 

The goodbye is  awkward. You can tell Bruce wants to come inside and talk more but you thank him for helping you move in the furniture and shut the door. 

He buys you new furniture without you asking and sends it in by the second week you're in the apartment. You don't realize that he stalks your posts and that he saw one of you complaining about the lack of good furniture.

Life has never been better for you, you live in luxury and can go on shopping sprees literally whenever you want and Bruce sends you a random stream of cash whenever you start to get low and you're definitely not going to look a gift horse in the mouth not when you enjoy every luxury you are afforded. 

Life is good until a certain black haired prick starts inserting himself into your life and this time it isn't bruce, nope it just had to be your annoyingly bubbly, touchy, and all too friendly ‘stepbrother’ dick grayson.

___

So yeah all in all Bruce has the capability to recognize your strained relationship is all his fault and that he never should have ignored you and how selfish he was to put his duties as Batman above his duties as a father to you. He realized he didn't even try to balance the two. 

And Despite himself he ended up hurting you and neglecting you so he feels he owes it to you to make things right even if 'making things right' entails him buying you a luxury apartment or purchasing the latest phone or new car. The best part is that Bruce will not demand time from you (yet) because of his guilt.  He simply suggests that maybe you should come out with him saying that he planned a whole day for the two of you but the ball is in your court since whether or not you ever accept his invites he will continue to be your cash cow to absolve himself of his guilt. 

It's fun because now you get to watch him wilt everytime you reject his attempts at reconnecting, you get to have your petty revenge watching as a part of him dies inside each and every time you ignore the conversations he tries to start when pulling money out of the bank,  you get to watch how he seems to lose all of his luster when you leave once the cash is in your hands without so much as a thanks. Bruce isn't stupid he knows this dynamic is unhealthy and recognizes it for what it is but this is the only way he can get you to talk to him or to even look in his direction. He has his limits though eventually you will talk to him whether you want to or not 

[divinesolas]

First everything

Summary: in desperate need to pass your upcoming math test you go to your best friend for help, your best friend who you just so happen to be in love with. Sometimes feelings just spill out and theres nothing you can do but embrace it and try to navigate through it.

modern!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

w.c: 4.2k

c.w: college au, nerdy jace, two virgins just trying to figure it out, virginity loss (both), fingering (fem), oral (fem), minor hand-job, p in v, protected sex, love confessions, glasses stay on during sex, theres also fluff guys, not proofread

a.n: for my nerdy jace warriors out there 🫡 pls lmk your thoughts !

perm jace taglist (open!) <3 @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels

you could not afford to fail this upcoming math test with you’re grade already as rocky as it is and if you didn’t nail it your grades were gonna tank.

So you decide to do the only rational thing you can think of and go stop by your best friends house who just so happens to be basically a genius to get him to tutor you. You don’t text him, having a key to his place and checking his location you can see he’s home he definitely won’t mind you just dropping by.

He’s been your best friend since you two were kids, having lived across the street from you the two of you would always stand by the bus stop together and chat and when you got older he started driving you to school. you guys would spend all the time together though you guys didn’t end up in the same college you guys happened to both get into colleges in the same city and lived right near each other.

He was perfect essentially, you try to ignore that gnawing feeling in your stomach every time you speak to him or even think about him. You’ve liked him for as long as you can remember but you never tried to do anything out of fear of ruining the relationship you two have built. You also can’t get a read on if he feels the same, everything you two have ever done has been platonic, cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, having sleepovers, but you can shake the feeling of wanting to be more, maybe he was thinking the same way but you had no clue.

The apartment is quiet when you enter, when you call his name and there’s no response you think for a second maybe he went out and left his phone? but that’s not like him at all. until you walk towards his bathroom and you can hear the shower running and let out a sigh of relief as you begin to set up your stuff in the living room and order some take out for the two of you on your phone.

busying yourself on your phone you don’t even hear the shower turn off or the door open until you hear the soft thumps on the floor of his footsteps and when you look up the two of you gasp at one another. With water dripping down his chest and a firm hand places on the towel around his waist, his glasses all fogged up and his face hot red you feel like you might pass out.

“I’m so sorry oh my god i had no clue you were coming i haven't checked my phone um oh god.” You can barely pay attention to his rambling as you can’t take your eyes off him. Since when was he toned? oh and the towel is low enough you can see his v line. NO! You shake your head as you find yourself heating up, “no no its my fault Jace i never texted you i just thought i would show up um.. I’m so sorry i should have texted.”

He scratches the back of his head as he begins to move his way to his room, “no its okay you can show up any time i just, um i uh let me go get dressed.” With that he quickly rushes away without another word his ears and face blaringly red. when the door shuts and you’re alone once again you lean against the couch and take a couple deep breaths. you cannot be thinking about him like this right now. Your thighs press together unconsciously as the memory of him was still so fresh in your mind.

You quickly stand and rush to his bathroom to splash some cold water on your face to snap yourself out of it. he’s your best friend who you just so happen to be in love with and today will fill your fantasies for the next decade. You manage to get yourself back on the couch and run a hand down your face as you try to calm your racing heart and mind. Its fine its cool its just a normal thing people shower and they just so happen to get naked in the shower its not weird to see your best friend shirtless no its not.

he walks back into the room and sits down on the couch next to you, now dressed in a white t-shirt and some sweatpants, his glasses free of fog but his hair drips onto his shoulders and shirt making some parts of it see through. when you look closely you can even still see his ears are a bright red. “is everything good? its not like you to just show up out of the blue.” you are thankful he’s acting like that did not just happen, or maybe you’re just overthinking it and its not a big deal.

“i need to trade brains with you this Friday at 11 am.” his beautiful laugh fills your ears as he raises his brows at you, “you’re finally admitting I'm smarter than you?” You playfully huff and push his shoulder lightly as he smiles at you. “you’re way better at math then me, i need help Jace please.” you press your hands together in a plea and he taps his chin as if he’s in thought. “I don’t know, what do i get in return?” You pout at him and scoot a bit closer, “you get to hang out with your gorgeous smart and talented best friend?” He blows raspberry's and looks up at the ceiling turning himself away from you. “and i bought take out.” “deal.”

He is a great help, though he’s a history major he’s still places in a math level higher than you and he’s able to guide you though everything you’re struggling with ease. Its usually so easy to ignore how you feel about him but tonight is different. You don't know if its hormones or if there's something in the air but you can’t stop staring at him thinking about him. The way he bites on the top of his pen when he’s in thought, when his forehead creases while he’s checking over your work or listening to you, the way he moves his hands while he talks and explains the problems and the solutions you can’t even stop looking at him while he’s eating.

This was bad. very bad. but at least you managed to get the information he’s told you poured into your head and with his notes you’re sure to ace the test. After a couple hours of studying you two decided to put on a movie but you can’t even cuddle up next to him like you normally would instead choosing to lay on the other side of the couching praying he doesn’t ask about you’re odd behavior.

You can’t help but continue to look at him throughout the movie barely even looking at the screen. he has such a nice side profile. At one point he glances at you and catches your eye so you quickly turn away from him but he sits up and pauses the movie, turning to you with concern laced in his eyes. “Okay spit it out what's wrong?” you. you shrug and try to play it off like nothing, you certainly can’t tell him what's really bothering you. “I’m just worried about the test.” “the you i know would have stopped worrying about the test as soon as you closed that textbook.” you let out a shaky sigh and he moves to sit next to you, staring at you with his puppy dog eyes desperately. “you can always tell me anything you know that right?”

not this. you can’t tell him this. as much as you want to. Yet your heart aches at the thought of not being able to kiss him at the thought of not spending yet another day another minute being his and him being yours. he grabs your hands and his voice is hushed laced with care, “please.”

you cave.

“I'm in love with you.”

You watch him freeze and you take a deep breath as you look down at your connected hands. “i know this is really sudden but i cant hide this any longer. i think I've loved you since the second i met you and i cant keep continuing to pretend like I'm not. If you don’t feel the same that's fine we can just move on and pretend like this never happened.” you let out a fake laugh and a couple shaky breaths as you get off your chest your best kept secret. When he doesn’t say anything you look at his face to see his glossy covered eyes and red tinted face. “Please say something.”

You can feel his hands tighten around yours as he lets out a shaky breath. “I'm so in love with you i feel like i'm gonna throw up.” you laugh as a wave of fresh air washes over you, he grins and lets out his own laugh as a lone tear runs down his face. “fuck this is not how i thought tonight would go.” You don’t know how long the two of you were sitting there just laughing and smiling at each other but it was just so peaceful.

You end up cupping his face and he freezes his breath caught in his throat. “Can i kiss you?” “Please.” The kiss is soft and slow but its everything you’ve every dreamed of. His lips are as soft as they've always looked, he’s clearly inexperienced but you are too and you figure it out together. You feel like you’re not close enough to him, so you end up separating from him and he watches with wide eyes as you sit yourself in his lap. His hands quickly move to grasp your waist as he gulps, you can feel his hardness poking at you through your shorts and he lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to its just,” he’s quickly cut off with a moan as you pull him into another kiss.

You can feel yourself aching in your stomach, yet you can’t bring yourself to do more until you pull away from his lips. a long string of salvia that connects you two snaps as you begin to speak. “I want to go further, if only you want to.” His chest moves quickly up and down as he tries to catch his breath, he blinks rapidly as he looks at you with swollen lips, one of his hands moves to readjust his glasses. “I do its just, i don’t know what i'm doing.” the two of you softly laugh as you press your forehead against his and he lightly rubs his nose against yours. “I don’t know what I'm doing either, we’ll figure it out.”

His hands around your waist tighten as he places one last kiss on your lips before he stands, you squeal lightly as he keeps you firmly around his waist walking towards his room. “You could put me down you know?” He places a kiss on your cheek and you wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t want to.”

Once in the bedroom he lightly places you down on the bed and he stays standing up unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “do i like take off my clothes um.” You stand and the two of you look at one another. “Why don’t we both undress? or do you want to undress each other?” At your words his eyes light up and his ears couldn’t get any redder, he clearly likes the idea a lot so you grab his hands and place them on your shirt. “You can take it off.” He nods and lets out a shaky breath as he lifts your shirt over your head.

If you had known this was going to happen you would have chosen a cuter bra but you instead stand in your basic skin tone bra, heat rises on your face lightly with embarrassment but the look of amazement on his face has you feeling confident. You grab his hands once more and slide them to your waist where you help him tug down your pants and you stand in just your underwear in front of him. His mouth opens in amazement as his eyes dart all over you. “you’re so beautiful.” “shut up.” “im serious. you’re the most beautiful women ive ever seen. im the luckiest guy in the world.”

You place your hands on his neck as you place a light kiss on his lips. “you’re so sweet.” He shakes his head and his hands cup your face eyes full of love. “im only telling the truth.” Your hands move to the neck of his shirt and grip it. “Your turn.” His bright red face somehow only gets redder when you slide your hands down his chest to grab the bottom of his shirt and lifting it over his head. “when did you start working out?” He lets out a light moan as your hands drag down his stomach and rub around his chest. “when i moved here uhh the umm the complex has a gym.” You lightly um as your hands reach the waistband of his pants and you begin to toy with the elastic.

He expects you to take off his pants move back to sit on the bed but instead your hands goes inside the waistband to cup his budge from his briefs. The sound he lets out is not what you had been expecting, it sounds something closer to a whine as he questions you, “what are you doing?” You grin at him as his eyes dart all over your face. “Can i touch you?” He pants lightly as your hands already begins to move slight and he gulps. “shouldn’t i touch you? or umm oh i don’t know fuck please.” his head falls to your neck and he begins pecking light kisses on the skin there as your hand slips into his briefs and wraps around him.

He throbs in your hands, you lightly jerk him to see how he responds and you can hear a pleased moan as you continue to pump him in your hand using the precum that drips out of his tip as a lubricant you find a steady pace. He bites into the side of your neck and you let out a shaky moan as his grip tightens on your waist. you can feel wetness soak your skin whether it be his sweat or tears you have no clue but the only thing you can focus on his whines and moans in your ear. “you’re so good fuck fuck.” he must be getting close because you can feel him shaking but he suddenly grabs your hands and pulls them away from him as he pants.

“did i do something wrong? im sorry.” he quickly shakes his head, “no no of course not i just don’t want to um cum right now.” you tilt your head in confusion, why would he not want to cum? until he turns his head and even his neck has turned red and a light bulb flicks over your head and you let out an sound of understanding and grab his sweatpants to pull them down until they hit the floor.

you both stand face to face in just your underwear, you watch him eye your chest and you reach your hands up to unclip your bra. you slowly unclip it and he watches as it drags down your arms and you toss it lightly on the floor. you sit down on the bed and you motion for him to join you. he does and he warily watches your face for approval which you grant before he cups your breasts with a shuttered breath. You can tell somethings bothering him though, theres a look in his eyes that says somethings wrong but before you can question it he speaks.

“can i touch you?” its the same question you had throw at him but it gives you butterflies, you wonder if it had done the same to him. you spread your legs and he stares at the spot between your legs where you’re soaked. theres a huge spot on your practically ruined panties where you’ve begun to leak, theres even some residual wetness on your inner thighs. “fuck.” he licks his lips and looks up at you and your flushed face. “don’t get cocky jace.” he laughs lightly as his fingers press against your slit from the fabric and you let out a moan. he watches for your reactions as he begins to rub you through the fabric, “Jace, please.”

his fingers shake as they push the fabric aside and he touches your folds. “oh fuck you’re so fucking wet.” he just continues to rub at your skin, it feels nice but you both know you need more. “how many should i,,” he trails off, unsure of how to word the question. “two, just to start, you can add another when i tell you.” he nods and slowly pushes two fingers into you.

his fingers feel a lot better than yours do they're thicker and they're longer reaching a bit more than you can and your hands dig into his shoulders. “good?” you hiss lightly for a second as his hands wiggle lightly before nodding. “yes move please.” he quickly listens, pulling his fingers out before slowly pushing them back in methodically. He feeds off every sound you let out and moves quicker as your face contorts in pleasure. it feels good but its not enough and when you tell him he can add another he finger he looks at you unsure but when you reassure him its fine he does and the burn it adds satisfies the itch that you know can only be scratched once he’s inside of you.

when he pulls his fingers out before you can cum you whine but he just smiles at you “lift your hips for me.” you do and he slides your underwear down your legs exposing you fully to him. He takes a second to admire you before your eyes widen as he gets down on his knees, “i thought guys didn’t like that.” you try to tell him but he just shrugs, “i bet i will.”

he kisses you inner thighs slowly working his way up to your slit where he pauses before he lightly licks at your folds before pushing his tongue inside of you. your hand finds it way to his hair as he warily licks every drop of you he can get. when you tug at his hair he groans, you try your best to avoid his glasses which sit pushed up into his hair. Your face contorts with pleasure as you throw your head back. he’s messy and clearly unsure of what he’s doing but it doesn’t matter to you as he brings you closer to your release. you can feel your stomach burning as he suddenly pulls away and looks at you, he looks gorgeous with his hair a mess and his lips glossy.

“could you show me um where uh,,,” your brows furrow in confusion until you laugh and sit up. “its fine here.” you grab his hand and use his finger to push around inside of you until his finger presses against your clit and your moan. you suddenly fall back once again with your hands playing with your breasts while one of his hand plays with your clit and his other on your knee to keep your legs parted while he tongue works his way inside of you. you can no longer ignore the burning in your stomach as it becomes harder and harder to push down. “Jace I'm gonna oh fuck.” the grip you have on his hair tightens as you hiss when he continues to work you till you shake with pleasure and you essence drips into his mouth down his jaw and neck.

He shakily stands and licks his lips seemingly not caring that he was a mess. “do i-“ you pull him down on top of you and press your lips against him in a feverish kiss which he returns, “i want to be on top.” his eyes widen, “will that be good for you?” you nod rapidly eager to feel him inside of you and your eyes practically turn into hearts when he stands and pulls down his briefs, his hardness slapping his stomach you barely get the chance to admire him before he rummages around in his bedside table pulling out a clearly new box of condoms.

he struggles to open them slight with his shaky hands but manages to open it and grab one. when he looks back at you and your amused expression he looks down at the box with embarrassment. “Aegon got it for me. he was trying to tease me.” you grab him to sit on the bed and get him to lay back against the headboard while you grabbed the packet out of his hands. “then ill have to thank him later.”

you open the condom with your teeth before slowly sliding it down his length causing him to hiss and close his eyes to calm himself. the two of you look at each other as you sit up, “are you good?” he nods and lightly thanks you, “are you?” you also nod and you grab him to position him into your opening while he pulls his glasses back down to his face. with one last look you begin to sink down onto him.

you put your forehead against his and the two of you shudder with pleasure the lower and lower you get. once you get as low as you can go you pause and the two of you take a few moments to readjust. his glasses fog up as he catches your lips in his, when your hips move slightly up then back down he bites at your lip before throwing his head back and whines slightly while your mouth lulls open in pleasure.

You two find a simply rhythm with you moving up and down. sweat covering your bodies as the two of you sing in pleasure, his glasses are basically completely covered now with fog and you take them off his face before shoving your lips messily against his as his hands grip your hips to help you move up and down on him. the sounds of your skin slapping against each other and moans and whines fill the hot room. he throbs inside of you as he hits spots you've never been able to reach, your head falls into the cave of his neck neck as you feel yourself close. “Jace fuck you’re so good fuck.” he whines and bites your shoulder again “please cum please Jace fuck wanna feel it.” he cries into your neck as he nods, “i love you i love you so much.” “i love you too Jace.” when he feels you release around him it pushes him over the edge where he's shooting his load into his condom.

the two of you fall completely on top of each other in a sweaty sticky mess. you catch your breaths unable to think straight. no words are spoken for awhile until you sit up lightly and push the hair away from his sweaty face. “we should have done that sooner.” the two of you laugh as you peck his lips. “i really love you a lot Jace.” he beams and grabs his glasses to fiddle them back onto his face. “i love you too.” you hum and kiss his cheek. “as nice as you being inside me is i really have to pee.” the two of you hiss as you pull away and he sits up to watch you stumble your way towards the bathroom. he tosses the condom away and he stands to get a cup of water not bothering to put on any of his clothes.

he hands you a glass when you walk out of the bathroom and you chug it down before looking at yourself with disgust. “i need a shower.” “you can use it i don't mind.” you roll your eyes and slap his shoulder much to his confusion. “that's when you’re supposed to say then lets take one together dummy.” his face flushes for the millionth time that night as you walk away and sigh as you turn to see him not following you. “come on you’re not gonna leave me alone are you?” he downs his glass and quickly hurries to follow you as you giggle.

[luveline]

omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.” 

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 

“I love when guys wear rings.” 

“I had a suspicion.” 

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I can see black and white spots.” 

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?” 

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 

“Let you?” 

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 

“Something like that.” 

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 

“We’re definitely married?” 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“You okay?” 

“I guess our second date really did go well.” 

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 

[agustdtown1]

FREE USE | JJK (hcs)

PAIRING: roommate!jungkook x roommate!fem!reader.

SUMMARY: headcanons of what it’d be like to let jungkook use you as much as he pleased.

WC: 1.2k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, free use dynamics, friends/roommates with benefits, unprotected sex, masturbation, mentions of oral sex (male receiving), fucking while doing mundane things, reader and jungkook are very laid back in this one. Grammar mistakes as per usual.

A/N: idk where I was going with this, but I liked the idea so here it is, enjoy!

Masterlist

Your arrangement started as a simple roommates with benefits type of thing.

It sort of naturally happened.

After a long day of working at your nine to five job and Jungkook dealing with some unnecessary family drama, both of you were at your limit.

You two were in need of some good release.

At the time, alcohol looked like the better option. The best remedy for your miserable day; perfect to leave behind all your concerns and numb your mind for a few hours, until you wake up the next day with an unbearable headache.

Neither of you anticipated that what started as a peaceful drinking session, would end up with both of you fucking desperately to the point of almost breaking the sofa.

After Jungkook finally got a taste of you, however, it became an impossible task to keep his distance with you; despite both of you agreeing to that night being just a one-time thing, and never doing anything like that again.

And so his long nights of jacking off to the thought of you started.

Jungkook would make sure that you were peacefully sleeping before pulling his sweats down, slightly teasing himself by feeling his cock through his underwear.

It was so painfully hard and already leaking.

When his own teasing was too much to bear, Jungkook would pull down the last piece of clothing preventing him from feeling his fingers wrapped around his cock.

He’d start at a slow pace, taking his sweet time to build up his release. He knew the best way to tip himself over the edge, but it seemed like after your one night together nothing could make him cum. His avid fingers weren’t so avid on himself anymore. It didn’t give him the same sentiment that you did. His hand was significantly bigger than yours, on top of being rough and calloused due to all the weightlifting he did on the daily.

Jungkook could notice the stark contrast between you and himself.

He remembers so vividly the way your fingers wrapped around his base, squeezing lightly, before you started to pump his dick at a painfully slow pace. He didn’t mind at the time, but in the darkness and loneliness of his room, Jungkook could only beg for his hand to go faster. However, it wasn’t enough. And that’s how the mental image —the memory of your soft lips kissing his tip came to the very front of his mind. It was hard to forget it; the way your tongue wrapped around his dick, the way you swallowed all of him in one go, just to show him that he could be rougher with you, that it was okay for Jungkook to lose all his self control and fuck your throat only like he knew.

Sadly, those nights filled with the most filthy sounds and moans had to stay a secret for a few more weeks.

Before the unthinkable happened.

Truth be told, you were just as needy of Jungkook as he was of you. And maybe that’s the reason you didn’t think too much before suggesting that crazy idea to him.

“So… Friends with benefits?” His question sounded a bit unsure. “Well, should I say roommates with benefits?” You nodded, agreeing while taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it. I don’t really care about the name, as long as we’re both on the same page and understand what all of this actually is.”

It was so pathetic how fast Jungkook wanted to agree and say yes to whatever deal you had for him, as long as that meant he could have you all the time he wanted.

And so, it became a recurrent occurrence to be found in the sheets of the one and only Jeon Jungkook whenever life became too stressful.

Surprisingly, the guy learned to read your body in a matter of a few days. His rough hands knew what path to follow; how soft or hard the touch of his fingers had to be to get the exact reaction he needed from you. His warm lips always found that perfect spot on your neck that would steal the sweetest of sounds from your mouth. And his dick would always move just the right way to make you see starts.

But no matter how much of your body you would give to Jungkook during the hardest of days, he would always crave more.

And that’s exactly how you found yourself in the current predicament you were in.

Your hands were acting clumsy due to Jungkook’s hard thrusts. The pencil placed in between your fingers was shaking so badly, and your handwriting was so illegible that not even someone with their 20-20 vision could understand what you wrote.

“Slow down a bit, it’s difficult to write while getting fucked.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

His pace was turned down a few notches, but it only served to feel him inside you ten times deeper.

You see, your initial arrangement got to the point of fucking at any moment, anywhere, any day. No matter what either of you were doing, if it was important or not, if you had time or were in a hurry; if your bodies were ready for it or got taken by surprise. It became normal for the both of you to use each other at any given moment.

Just like right now, you could be having a peaceful moment studying, cooking or even watching a movie and Jungkook would simply slide down whatever clothes you were wearing and slip inside, enjoying the warmth of your velvety walls.

You got so used to it that you no longer were surprised by his sudden actions. And just like you did, Jungkook also got used to your impromptu appearance in his room when he was playing video games with his friends, watching a movie, or even just listening to music.

There was one time when he was on the phone with his brother and you easily walked in his room, pulled down his pants and started to suck the life out of him. Surprisingly, Jungkook did good in suppressing his moans while speaking to his brother.

There were other times when he would be reading a manga on the couch, and without previous warning you would get on top of him and ride his cock as if it was your last wish. Even maintaining a conversation while fucking was the usual for you both.

“What are you reading?” Your airy voice rang through Jungkook’s ears, making him look up from the manga placed on his hands, before continuing reading. “Jujutsu Kaisen, the one I told you about the other day.”

“Is it the one with that Gojo guy?” Your movements got messier and faster, desperately trying to reach your high. “Is it— fuck, is it any good?”

“Mhm, it became one of my favorites.” He answered, but even if Jungkook tried to keep his voice steady you could tell he was getting there. “You should read it. I have a feeling you’d— fuck, just like that... I have a feeling you’d like it.” You nodded, not really finding your voice to answer due to your rapidly approaching orgasm. It was a matter of a few more thrusts before you were coming undone on top of him.

At any moment, any minute, any day and most importantly anywhere. That’s how it would usually go for you two.

Both of you fell into the routine so easily and neither were ready to let go of it anytime soon.

[cressidagrey]

Brighten Up the Sky

This started as a prompt from the lovely @satiresunflower, (though it is pretty much unrecognisable from the prompt she actually gave. She did give me permission to go wild though, so this is what you get lol) 

This starts in Chapter 14 of ACOWAR, so some of the sentences are taken verbatim from the original text. I did change it into 3rd person, because me trying to write in 1st person never ends well. I also think there is a longer story in this particular idea, but quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to write it right now. 

Summary:

A Mating Bond between her younger sister and the Night Court’s shadowsinger was the last thing Feyre had expected to spring up…but then, maybe it did make sense. 

Warning:

Public Displays of affection, kinda Nesta bashing, but like...she has her reasons?, Cassian being annoying

(Lovely dividers thanks to @cafekitsune)

“Where are my sisters?” Feyre asked, the thought clanging through her head as jarring as a pealing bell. 

Her sisters

Rhys paused for just a moment, his hand slipping from her hair as his smile faded. “Elain and Nesta are at the House of Wind.” He straightened, swallowing. “I can—take you to them.” Every word seemed to be an effort.

But he would, Feyre realized. He’d shove down his need for her and take her to them, if that was what she wanted. Her choice. It had always been her choice with him.

Feyre shook my head. She wouldn’t see them—not yet. Not until she was steady enough to face them.

“They’re well, though?”

His hesitation told her enough. 

“They’re safe,” Rhys answered quietly. 

"That’s good," Feyre murmured as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling, churning emotions inside her chest.

Her sisters...her sisters were safe. That was something. That was enough. For now. 

Only then she realised something else.

“You said Nesta and Elain are at the House of Wind,” Feyre pointed out, her hands clenching, her heart beating faster. “Where’s Alana?” she demanded, singling out her younger sister…singling out her half sister. 

The result of their father’s dalliance with a maid during her mother’s pregnancy with Feyre. Alana was just 6 months younger than her. Alana’s mother had died during childbirth…so their father had been saddled with another squealing infant that his wife was ill-pleased with. 

Nesta liked to say that that affair had eventually killed their mother. Feyre thought it to be ridiculous. It had been a fever and Alana had nothing to do with it, because she had been a literal child…and Alana had lost her voice to the very same fever. Feyre could still remember her singing like a pealing bell when she had been a child…and then…then she hadn’t been able to anymore. Even talking was near impossible for Alana, her throat unable to produce any sounds. 

Even as Alsna had been thrown into the cauldron…Her mouth had been open in a silent scream, but no sound had come out of her mouth. 

A shudder ran through her at that memory.

Alana. Her sweet, quiet younger sister. The sister that always smiled too sweetly and saw too much with those sharp eyes of hers. 

"Where is Alana?" She repeated. The silence in the room hung thick in the air as Rhys continued to hesitate.

A prickle of unease started to make its way up her spine. 

“Rhys, where is Alana?!” she demanded, her voice rising. 

“She’s safe, I swear,” Rhys hurried to promise her. “She’s not staying with Nesta and Elain but she’s safe. She should be here soon. I think…everything else…you should ask her about that.”

His words did little to soothe her worries, the unease that now clawed up her spine stronger.

“You’re not telling me something,” she pointed out, her brow furrowing. “Rhys, what are you not telling me?” 

She thought back to the last time she had seen her sister…thought back to her being poured out onto the wet stone floor from the cauldron…not a noise had come from her…nothing. She had…She had been poured out of the cauldron and had just kneeled on that stone floor as they had forced Nesta into the cauldron after her. 

She hadn’t…she had been…absent. Like the cauldron had taken too much from her. 

And then, in the moment as Mor had pushed Lucien away from Nesta and Elain, Feyre had seen Alana lunge. 

Not for the King of Hybern. Not even for Mor, who would have been closer to her…But for Cassian and Azriel for some reason. She wasn’t sure what had been Alana’s reasoning. Wasn’t sure what…Rhys had grasped all three of them and winnowed them away. 

Her heart was now hammering.

“What did you do with her?” Feyre demanded, her voice growing panicked. “What did you do with Alana? Why isn’t she staying with Nesta and Elain?” Feyre asked, her voice forcedly calm. “Rhys, what is going on?”

There was another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence, before Rhys finally replied. "She just…opted to stay elsewhere."

Those words did little to reassure her.

"Where?" Feyre pressed, her eyes narrowed. 

Rhys sighed. “How about you get into that bath that should be ready by now?” he suggested. “I’ll…tell you some of what happened. But I do think that some of the things should come from Alana and not from me,” he pointed out drily. 

The last thing she wanted to do right now was take a bath, the last thing she wanted to do was to be pacified with pretty words and nice things. That was the last thing she wanted.

But...he was right. She needed to be clean. 

Feyre growled at her mate, but stomped into the bathing chamber, stripping out of her clothing. Her fingers were near-black with dirt and caked blood. 

Rhys snapped his fingers, and her skin was nearly instantly pristine again. “Tell me what happened,” Feyre said flatly, as she sunk into the blood-hot water. “Why isn’t Alana staying at the House of Wind?”

Rhys was silent for a moment as he looked at her, his mouth in a grim line.

Then he let out a deep sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bathing tub. “A lot of things happened,” Rhys said drily. “But the biggest reason why Alana isn’t at the House of Wind is mostly that…I can’t guarantee Nesta’s safety, if she keeps spewing some of her venom in Alana’s direction.”

Feyre’s brow shot up at that, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she demanded. “Rhys, what are you talking about?” That didn’t sound—didn’t sound like...

To say that Nesta and Alana didn’t get along was an understatement. Nesta gave Alana the fault for seemingly everything and Alana…well, she played deaf. And even more mute than she normally was. Even when Feyre‘s sister hadn’t been able to talk, she had been more than able to communicate if she wanted to, either with her expressive face, or her hands. And still, Alana had pretended like it wasn’t happening. Elain was no better to her…Elain liked to ignore Alana’s very existence.

But Alana wouldn’t have done anything…Alana wouldn’t have…

“Alana doesn’t lose her temper,” Feyre said carefully as she looked at Rhys. “She doesn’t.”

“She didn’t,” Rhys said drily. “My spymaster did.” 

A puzzled frown crossed over her face at that. “Azriel?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “What did he do?”

Azriel had lost his temper with Nesta? 

“If Cassian hadn’t been there, I think Azriel would have torn out Nesta’s throat with his bare hands,” Rhys said with a grimace. “It was…bad.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Azriel, tearing out Nesta’s throat? With his hands? That…that didn’t sound like him. Not at all.

“I...” Feyre had no idea what to say. Why would Azriel have done that?  Feyre couldn’t…Of course, she knew that Azriel was capable of great violence, but he had never…she had never seen him lose his temper with a member of his family. Had never even through that that was a possibility. Whatever Nesta had said, must have been…

If he had gotten this angry on Alana’s behalf…What exactly had been said?

"What did Nesta do? What did she say?" Feyre asked, her voice hard. "What did she say to warrant that reaction from Azriel?" 

Rhys grimaced, shaking  his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me, you do not want to know what she said. It's...complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Feyre demanded as she towelled herself off, walking back into the bedroom and pulled on comfortable clothing, her worry mounting. "What could possibly be so bad that you don't want to tell me?" 

If it was bad enough that Rhys didn't want to tell her what exactly happened...what exactly had been said.

"Well, that…” Rhys trailed off.

"Tell me," Feyre demanded again. "What exactly happened after…Hybern?"

Her mate gave in, holding out his hand and she joined him sitting on the edge of their bed.

Their bed.

She was home. Finally.

Rhys sighed.

“After Hybern…Mor dropped Nesta and Elain off at the House of Wind and then came back to the Townhouse. I had…I had Azriel and Cassian, and Alana too” Rhys said quietly and Feyre swallowed. Azriel and Cassian were healed. Rhys had told her that…but somehow she hadn’t been able to believe it…until she had seen it. 

“Amren tried to stop the blood flow from the literal hole in Azriel’s chest. I didn’t notice at first…Alana was kneeling at Azriel’s side…covered in his blood…holding his head on her lap…” Rhys’s violet eyes seemed to be far, far away, as he nearly shuddered, just thinking about it. “Azriel was…in and out of consciousness…but he was just…he was just holding onto her.”

Feyre’s heart was lodged in her throat. Azriel, nearly dead, was just…holding Alana. Her head was spinning as her mind worked hard to comprehend this. 

“The mating bond snapped for them,” Rhys finally said quietly. 

Feyre’s eyes widened. Her mouth went suddenly dry.

The…the mating bond? Alana and Azriel? Mates?

“The mating bond,” she echoed faintly. “The…the mating bond.” 

Feyre was quite sure that her jaw dropped. And that she stared at Rhys like he had just grown a second head.

“Azriel and Alana?” Feyre asked, unable to believe that. Azriel and Alana?! The brooding shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and her youngest sister?

Azriel, who seemed to have a thing for Mor and had never looked at another female as far as Feyre was aware?

Rhys winced at her look.

"Yes, I know," he said quietly, wincing. "That was…my reaction too. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think that anyone saw this coming...especially not Azriel." 

Feyre’s mind was racing.

Azriel and Alana. Mates.

She couldn’t…she never would have imagined it. Never seen it coming. Not in a thousand years. 

“Have they…” she wasn’t even sure what she was asking.

“Three days late,” Rhys said with a sigh. “They were not willing to wait.” 

“Three day?!” Feyre demanded. As far as she knew, Alana had never even entertained the thought of a suitor. Not that there had been any men that had looked over the fact that she was a bastard…and mute. They had never bothered to look further and Alana had never fussed about it either. 

"Three days," Rhys repeated. "The moment Azriel was well enough to be mobile again, they mated."  Rhys shuddered, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They are insufferable. The both of them.” 

"What do you mean, insufferable?" Feyre asked. A million thoughts were running through her head. Alana and Azriel…mates. They mated. 

"They could not stay away from each other," Rhys said, shuddering again. "They were...touchy. All the time. And so very...cutesy and sweet with each other. Gods, they are nauseating."

Feyre’s eyebrows rose at that. Alana and Azriel. Touchy? Cutesy and sweet? She could barely even imagine it. Alana...and Azriel. Being affectionate. 

"She’s sitting on his lap constantly," her mate groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. "And he is just…constantly touching her. I don’t even think that they have gone a whole five minutes without touching each other."

"And the looks," her mate continued drily. "Gods, they are exchanging these  looks. You would have thought that they are the soppiest, lovesick couple in existence. I did not ever need to see Azriel making heart-eyes at Alana. That was…traumatising."

Feyre pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. Azriel, making heart-eyes? That was a sight that she could not quite imagine. She…she hadn’t even thought that Azriel was even…capable of making heart-eyes. 

"Cassian and Mor kept poking fun at them. At every opportunity, which they definitely got often. Alana just…ignored them. But Azriel…" Rhys’ lips curled into a smirk. "He was not as amused as Alana by their teasing. He kept threatening violence every five minutes."

Feyre’s eyes widened at that, a laugh escaping her.

Azriel threatening violence for every five minutes that someone teased him about his new mate? She could not picture that either. 

"Cassian started making kissy faces at Alana just to see if Azriel would lose his temper," her mate said, a broad smile on his face. "And let me tell you, he nearly clawed out Cas’ eyeballs for it."

"So she's staying here?" Feyre asked carefully.

Rhys shook his head, his expression growing more serious. "She's at Azriel's house," he explained with a sigh. "It's...the cauldron left her with some...abilities. She’s a daemati…of sorts, at least,” Rhys said with a grimace. “We are still trying to figure out…how exactly it works. You and me…we need to concentrate if we want to read somebody’s thoughts. Alana…she said it was like she was standing in the middle of a market square and everybody is shouting at her,” Rhys said quietly. “We haven’t yet found anybody with shields solid enough to keep her out.”

Feyre swallowed at that. Alana, a daemati…of sorts. Having no control over whose thoughts she heard. No control over how loud everything was. 

“It’s like every mental wall, doesn’t even exist for her," Rhys said with a sigh. "Being around Amren gives her a headache too apparently. Azriel and Cassian are the most relaxing to be around according to her. There minds seem to be...even, analytical."

It sounded like a living hell. No control, no shields. Nothing.

“Is she…” Feyre’s voice was quiet. “Is she doing alright? Considering everything that happened.” 

“She’s fine,” Rhys promised her. “Alana is probably doing the best of them all,” Rhys said, something like amusement bleeding into his voice. “She can tell you all about it."

There was a knock at the door at that moment.

Feyre tensed as her eyes flew to the door.

“That’s her,” Rhys said quietly, placing a soothing hand on her leg. “Are you ready?” 

Feyre took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down her worry and her nerves.

“I’m ready,” she said. 

“Feyre!”

Her sister's voice. Her sister's voice.

Feyre’s heart skipped a beat as her body went rigid.

She couldn’t…she couldn’t believe it. After so long…after believing…believing for so long that she would never hear Alana’s voice…

Feyre remembered with a shudder the sight of small, slight Alana in her translucent nightgown…being poured out of the cauldron onto the stone...She looked nothing like she did now.

She looked well.

That was the first thing Feyre realised. Colour on her cheeks, dark, pin straight hair pinned away from her face and these devasting doe eyes…

Feyre’s eyes roamed over her sister, drinking in the sight of her. Alive. Well. Whole.

She could barely believe it, her mind struggling to catch up. 

"You can talk," Feyre whispered as Alana hugged her.  

She grimaced.

Kinda. This is easier though, she answered, her mental voice slipping into Feyre's mind without her even noticing. My throat hurts if I talk too much.

It was strange, having a voice in her mind that was not her own. Different from when her mate spoke to her down the bond. It was more…pronounced. Clearer, somehow. 

"Are…” Feyre’s voice broke again, her eyes roaming over Alana again. “Are you really alright, Al?” 

She drunk in her sister's face, the pale skin, the freckles that covered her face...she had been pretty as a human but as a fae...as a High fae she was gorgeous.

Alana’s eyes, her sister’s eyes, were still the same. Still that same dark, endless brown that had always seemed to hold so many secrets. She had never met anyone who could hold as many secrets as Alana had.

She looked so healthy, so well and Feyre felt a lump form in her throat. 

She had to fight the sudden urge to cry, as she pulled her sister into another hug. Her sister’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. Like she was never going to let her go again. 

I am alright, Alana promised fiercely. I am better than alright. I am...I am so happy, Fey.

The thought in her mind brought another wave of tears to Feyre’s eyes. She held on to her sister tighter, burying her face against her neck as a sob escaped her and she inhaled her sister’s familiar, comforting scent. Pomegranate and Vanilla, with an underlay of Azriel. 

He treats you well? she asked, cradling her sisters face in her hands. She didn't think that Azriel would...mistreat her but...

Alana’s eyes darkened as she thought of Azriel and her expression softened as a faint smile crossed her face. 

Feyre swallowed again. This was different. This was…her sister had never smiled like that. So open. So happy. So filled with…love. 

And then, very carefully, Feyre felt how Alana pulled at her mind in some sense and then dropped a memory.

For just a moment, it felt like she was in her little sister's body. And she stared at Azriel who looked at her, at Alana with utter and complete adoration, scarred hands cupping her cheeks so gently.

Feyre’s breath caught in her throat at that.

She could feel, could understand the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hand against her skin. The way how the pads of his fingers ran over her jawline, the way how his thumb traced over her lower lip. The way how those hazel eyes of his were filled with nothing but love. 

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine. That look, the way how Azriel had looked at her sister…it was like the expression in Rhys’ eyes when he looked at her. 

Her eyes flickered to Rhys, where he was patiently waiting in a corner.

He was looking at her with that same look in his eyes. The same look that Feyre knew was mirrored in her own eyes. It was the same, that look. Pure, utter devotion. 

It was the look of a man completely and utterly in love. 

Feyre swallowed as she turned back to Alana, her mind whirling. This was…Alana, her sister…her quiet, shy, closed-off little sister. And Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court. The one that no one saw as anything but sharp and deadly and a ruthless killer. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? Feyre asked weakly. She didn’t think he would but…

Alana’s expression softened. Her hand gently came to rest on Feyre’s arm and she shook her head, a small smile on her face.

He was gentle as possible, Fey, Alana promised quietly. Gentler than I would have expected. He made sure to go slow, to be careful. He was…he was everything I could have wished for. He has never hurt me more than I wanted. 

Feyre let out a long, shaky breath she didn’t know that she was holding.

She…she had been worried. Worried for her sweet little sister, being together with a man like Azriel. Who was dangerous and deadly and…and lethal. 

What do you mean with no more than you wanted? she demanded suddenly. Alana just grinned at her, her laugh like a pealing bell.

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine again. Alana’s…her sister’s voice, the sound of her laugh. It was the most wonderful sound that she had ever heard. She could’ve started bawling like a child, but the thought that Alana dropped into her mind just completely derailed her.

He knows what I like, and he’s happy to oblige. 

Feyre’s eyes widened and she choked on nothing.

She…oh Gods. Her face heat in a blush as Alana just continued smiling at her innocently. 

This was her sister. Her quiet, shy, closed-off sister. That was how she remembered her. And now…and now…she was standing in front of Feyre, smiling at her like a cat who had just devoured an entire bowl of cream, telling her that her stoic, broody, deadly Spymaster of a mate was apparently…into things… 

Her sister smirked at her. Alana! Her shy, little sister, who had never even so much as looked at a male with interest, stood in front of Feyre, a smirk on her face as she told Feyre that her mate knew what she liked. 

I was surprised too, you know, Alana’s voice echoed in Feyre’s mind. But well…I like it, and he’s happy to oblige. He’s very good at it… 

But the look on Alana’s face, the utter contentment in her eyes, and the feeling of…of lust from her sister, made it even more mortifying. 

Alana was happy. Her sister was happy and well, and she just radiated happiness. Feyre’s heart soared, seeing her sister like that after so long.  And even the horrifying bits, Feyre could push past.

Seeing her sister happy like this…that was worth a bit of mortification and discomfort. 

So she swallowed her mortification, and just pulled a face at her smirking sister.

Enough with the gory details, for the love of the Mother. she chided her in her head. Alana just let out another pearly bell kind of laugh.

You should come downstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen have given Lucien some clothing and showed him to a bathing chamber. Lunch should be served soon, if you are hungry, Alana said into her mind.

I am famished, Feyre confessed in her mind. “Lead the way,” she said aloud and Alana just rolled her eyes, taking her by the arm and pulling her downstairs. 

And then something else came to her mind. What did Nesta say to you?

Alana sighed. Nothing that matters, her sister said easily as they reached the dining room. Azriel and Cassian were waiting for them.

And then Feyre saw how her sister turned from happy to radiant as soon as she saw Azriel. 

Feyre watched with ill disguised horror, as the spymaster’s shadows came over to Alana, seemingly swarming around her. Whatever bits of naked skin they could find…in this case her hands and face, because she wore a long sleeves high necked gown, they caressed. Nearly sweetly. 

Alana absentmindedly drew her fingers through one tendril as she floated over to Azriel, sitting down onto his lap like that was an utterly normal thing to do. Feyre could just stare as Azriel pressed a kiss against her sister‘s cheek, one scarred hand possessively spanning her waist.

Like this was normal. Like this was something they had done dozens of times…like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like this was their usual routine…and Alana smiled at him, broadly, pressing a kiss against his cheek in greeting. 

It was...it was surreal, watching Alana like this. So much more open, less reserved than Feyre had ever seen her. And the way how Azriel looked at her...Feyre had never seen him express such open and utter adoration before. 

Cassian made a retching sound, catching Feyre’s attention. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he threw an icy look in Cassian’s direction. Alana just snuggled deeper into Azriel’s chest. 

Azriel let out the smallest of chuckles at Alana’s behaviour in his lap, one of his hands coming up to gently play with a strand of her dark hair as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. 

The quiet, brooding Spymaster of the Night Court, who could be downright terrifying when he wanted, completely and utterly smitten by her little sister. 

Feyre could just stare. 

She had not for one moment thought that they would…would be a good match. But here they were. 

Alana...Feyre had never seen her sister like this before. So open, so happy. So...unreserved. She was like a cat, settled in the lap of her male, letting him pet her like she was...like he owned her. And it seemed like Azriel would gladly claim ownership too. The possessive, proprietary look on his face told Feyre all she needed to know. 

“Get a room, for the love of the Mother,” Cassian drawled with a disgusted look on his face as Azriel buried his nose in her sister’s hair and Feyre shot him another dirty look. Alana just stuck her tongue out at him. 

Azriel just bared his teeth at Cassian, a silent warning to watch his tongue in the direction of the woman in his lap, who was busy playing with the buttons on his fighting leathers. 

“What did Nesta say?“ Feyre repeated as she sat down herself. 

The reactions were immediate. 

Azriel growled.

Feyre couldn’t help but flinch slightly. That growl...she hadn’t heard him make that sound before. It sounded utterly terrifying. Alana didn’t even flinch. She just touched Azriel’s chest in a soothing gesture and Azriel immediately quieted down, holding her even tighter. 

It doesn’t matter what Nesta had to say, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind.

“It absolutely does,” Feyre muttered, feeling some anger rising in her. Her sister deserved better than what Nesta had to say. 

I don’t care what she says, Alana replied in her mind. She can believe whatever she likes. She is entitled to her opinion. 

“She can be quiet about her opinion,” Azriel hissed. Only then Feyre realised that her sister must have been projecting her mental voice so that everybody could hear it.

"Azriel." Alana's voice was soft. "It's alright. We both know the truth. It doesn’t matter what she believes"

Azriel looked down at her and a slight frown appeared on his face. He gently cupped her sister's chin, his hazel eyes staring into her dark ones. Feyre could practically hear the silent conversation between them. 

Cassian sighed. "Nesta found out about the mating bond between Azriel and Alana and she didn't take it well," he told Feyre drily.

Of course, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Feyre ground her teeth together. 

"So what exactly was said?" she asked sharply.

Cassian and Rhys shared a look as Azriel let out another warning growl. Feyre ignored him. 

I want to know, Feyre snapped towards Alana. Her sister stiffened. 

Feyre, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind, a hint of warning in her tone. Feyre pushed down a wave of irritation. 

Tell me, Feyre demanded. She was done with secrets. Done with not knowing things. 

It’s nothing, Alana tried to brush her off and Feyre’s irritation flared up in her stomach. 

It is not ‘nothing’. Feyre snapped at her. Her sister’s face was a stoic mask as Azriel let his hand span across her stomach. 

Nesta made a comment about how she was surprised that Azriel hadn't ripped me apart during our...mating. But maybe she shouldn't be surprised because I was a whore anyway, Alana finally answered. How a brute like him was all I amounted to, given that I was a bastard...and then there was some more stuff in that rant about how unfair it was that I had landed on my feet but Elain is...well...Elain isn't doing so good, Alana answered flatly.

Feyre felt her blood boil in her veins. Of course, Nesta would say something like that, the bitter, twisted...- Feyre bit down on the string of curses burning on her tongue. 

Nesta isn't doing well, Feyre. You can't take what she is saying right now to heart, Alana warned her softly. You haven't been in her mind...it's...it's bad.

Feyre felt some of her anger cool down ever so slightly. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at Nesta for what she had said. Even if...even if Nesta wasn’t doing well. 

That doesn’t change anything about what she said, Feyre said through gritted teeth. 

I am not defending her, Alana said firmly. I love Nesta. Doesn’t mean that I like hearing her talk about Azriel like that. But Feyre... her voice grew softer. I have seen her mind. Her thoughts. She isn’t in a good place right now.

Feyre grimaced, feeling her anger slowly disappear. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to. But...maybe Alana was right. Nesta was her sister, and Feyre loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them. 

Still...what she said... Feyre said weakly and Alana’s lips quirked. 

I know, she said gently. I was angry too. I nearly tore her head off. But Azriel...he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that before. 

Feyre didn’t need to be told how furious Azriel had been. The look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the growl that Feyre had heard...she didn’t need anyone to tell her how the usually stoic male had been absolutely furious about what Nesta had said. 

"I'll talk to her," Feyre said aloud.

She ignored the dubious look that Cassian and Rhys were giving her. Her sister just smiled at her softly and nodded. 

Talk to her gently, she urged in Feyre’s mind. Please. And don’t...don’t try to defend me. It will only start a fight. 

Feyre winced. Even though, she didn’t like the thought of it and not defending her sister went completely against her nature, she knew that Alana was right. And her sister could read her thoughts with ease anyways. 

I’ll bite my tongue, Feyre promised her. Alana smiled at her again, that smile that lit up her entire face. Feyre felt her heart clench at the beautiful sight. 

“Thank you,” Alana said happily, her voice like the most wonderful sound. Feyre had a feeling that that was the thanks not only for agreeing not to defend her but for just...not making a scene. Feyre felt a small, answering smile tug at the corners of her own lips.

Instead, she watched her sister pick up a piece of bread from the plate in front of Azriel and hold it up for him to eat without another word. A silent gesture of acceptance.

Azriel’s lips twitched as he looked at his mate, sitting on his lap like she belonged there. But he obediently opened his mouth, a subtle sign of complete surrender to Alana. 

Cassian made another retching sound. Alana ignored him.

Azriel was the one who kissed Alana.

Feyre could have gone quite a long time without that sight. Especially because it wasn't a simple peck on the cheek or a quick kiss to her lips. 

Feyre could have gone forever without seeing her sister like this, settled in the lap of her mate, their bodies pressed together tightly as Azriel kissed her, devoured her, his hands possessively splayed out on her slender waist. 

"Now you are just fucking with me," Cassian said with a sigh.

Alana just broke out in a fit of giggles as Azriel threw a glare in Cassian’s direction. 

“Maybe I am,” Azriel mused, as Alana settled back into his lap. Azriel’s one scarred hand was back to playing with a strand of Alana’s hair. “Jealous?” he asked lightly and  Cassian actually growled at him.  Azriel snorted, his hand possessively covering Alana’s stomach, who was smiling like the happiest person in the world. 

“Shut up,” Cassian huffed. “I am not jealous. I just don’t want to know what you two get up to at night.” 

"Only at night?" Azriel asked drily. "Brother, you have much to learn."

Feyre groaned internally at the hint in Azriel’s voice as Cassian looked a little ashen, while Rhys burst out laughing and Alana let out another one of her pearly-bell like laughs. 

“Stop tormenting him,” Rhys said with a chuckle as Cassian tried to recover. “He’ll have nightmares for weeks if you continue like this.” 

“That sounds like a you problem,” Azriel replied, completely unrepentant, “not ours.” Alana was still giggling, a sound like tinkling bells in Feyre’s ears. 

“Of course you say that, you bastard,” Cassian said with a sigh as Azriel’s hand on Alana’s stomach started to slowly wander upwards. 

Feyre could see how Alana’s cheeks flushed slightly in response to the possessive touch. How her breathing quickened ever so slightly. Azriel’s lips twitched as he noticed it too. 

"We'll let you deal with Lucien," Alana said suddenly, gaining her feet quickly. "We'll see you at dinner. Az?"

“Coming, sweetheart,” Azriel said and Cassian made another retching sound as Feyre could feel the waves of possessiveness coming off Azriel in waves. Her sister was his. 

In a matter of heartbeats, they were gone. Feyre was left with Cassian and Rhys who were both looking at her intently. 

"Yes, they are always like that, if you wondered,” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes. "I think they are still in the Mating Frenzy."

“Most likely,” Rhys agreed with a chuckle. “But they also don’t seem to care who sees it. Mor is still horrified from walking in on them a few weeks ago.” 

“So would I be in her shoes,” Feyre said honestly and Cassian snickered. 

“They are insufferable, aren’t they?” He said with a grin. Rhys just chuckled. “So utterly happy.”

“Yes,” Feyre agreed, the image of the two of them, completely oblivious to the world around them still in her mind. “Unbelievably so.” 

“They’re also completely and utterly devoted to each other,” Rhys mused. “It is…kind of sweet.” Feyre nodded thoughtfully. 

It was sweet. The way Azriel looked at her sister, how he was so utterly possessive about her. And Alana…there wasn’t a hint of hesitation about her when it came to Azriel. 

"As long as she's happy," Feyre said quietly. As long as Alana was happy.

[theemporium]

[4.9k] things start to feel real as luke’s rookie season in the nhl officially begins. but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought. and maybe those good vibes will follow him off the ice too. (smut)

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“You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.”

Your smile widened as you pulled the door open further, letting the boy shuffle inside with a small wince at the bright sun shining through your windows. The hood of his jumper was thrown over his head, his curls a mess and his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he stole from Jack’s room after he woke up. 

It wasn’t the best state for you to see him but, truthfully, that was not his biggest concern at the moment. 

A few months away from college and he almost forgot what a bad influence his friends could be when it came to drinking. There was a vague memory somewhere around the fifth round of shots where Luke was pretty sure Nico tried to get them to drink some water, but it was pointless when Ethan found another bottle of tequila and insisted they had to drink it before it went to waste.

And, to Luke’s drunken mind, that sounded like the most logical solution. 

He was honestly surprised the three of them had managed to wake up early enough to catch the plane back to Michigan. They had woken him up to say goodbye, muttering something about afternoon practice and other things that Luke vaguely remembered before he fell back asleep for a few hours. 

Luke was pretty sure he was still drunk when he woke up a second time to the sound of Jack blasting music in the kitchen. 

Somewhere between his annoying brother and the lingering anxiety that followed with the hangover as result of the night before, Luke found himself at a local bakery to grab some goods before he stopped over at your place, not even thinking to message you beforehand (if he even knew where his phone was). 

“But you don’t smell shit so that’s a plus,” you noted as you shut the door behind him before taking pity on his state, dragging the curtains shut again whilst Luke muttered his thanks under his breath.

“I think I bought half the bakery,” Luke admitted with a sheepish expression as he extended the bag towards you. “I asked for every cherry based thing they owned, which surprisingly isn’t much.” He paused for a moment. “Maybe I should have tried another bakery.”

You laughed, brows raised in question. “I’m surprised you can stomach anything right now.”

“Oh, I can’t,” Luke said, his nose scrunching up in disgust like the idea made him feel nauseous. It did, if he was being honest. It was bad enough he almost threw up after Jack made him chug some water. “These were…well, they were the start of an apology.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“For…abandoning you in my room after everything,” he continued, his cheeks heating up. Because apparently no matter how much he drank the night before, he remembered well enough that he was a bit of a dick with how he ran off with his friends. “It was a shitty move. And it was shitty for me to make you hide under the bed.”

“That did throw me off,” you admitted, though there was a slight teasing tilt to your voice. “Although, your bed was surprisingly clean under there. No plates growing mould or other questionable diseases.”

Luke scoffed a little. “I’m not a slob.”

You shot him a look.

“I’m not that much of a slob,” Luke corrected, grumbling under his breath before he let out a sigh. “You know, you are making this apology a lot harder than I imagined it being.”

“Probably doesn’t help that you’re hungover as fuck,” you teased, but you took the baked good from him. You peaked inside, noting just how much he had actually bought and something warm twisted in your stomach. “You really didn’t have to. It wasn’t that big of a deal, Luke.”

“But it was to me,” he murmured, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I…I shouldn’t have done that. Like, don’t get me wrong, I love my friends. And I know they wouldn’t judge me but…”

“Hey,” you stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch him. “It’s fine, I promise. This was a part you hid from them for so long and it freaked you out. I get it.”

“I’m not embarrassed by you,” he blurted out, because apparently he has no filter or control over the words leaving his mouth. “Just in case you thought that. Because I’m not. The boys would probably love you but like—”

“You just don’t want them asking questions,” you finished for him, watching as the boy shyly nodded his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself but thank you, anyways. And thank you for the pastries.” 

“Right,” he cleared his throat, nodding a little. “Well, I–”

“Go lay down,” you said, a smile growing on your face when his shoulders slumped in relief. “I wasn’t lying when I said you looked like shit. The fact you are even awake before noon is shocking, to be honest.”

“Thank you,” he sighed in relief as he made his way towards your couch, his feet shuffling against the floor. “If I had to go back and listen to Jack blast his obnoxious playlists, I would have died.”

You snorted. “Aw, baby is facing his first, proper hangover outside of cheap college vodka.”

He pulled his sunglasses off to glare at you. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Lie down,” you prompted as you gently pushed him a step forward. “We can nap on the couch. I’ll even show you the trick to hangovers.”

He raised his brows. “It’s not gonna be some weird shit like drinking raw egg yolks, is it?” 

“I was going to offer head scratches but if you want raw eggs—”

“No!”

You grinned. “That’s what I thought.” 

…

The thing about playing with the team during playoffs was that, as amazing as it was, they did get knocked out and the whole thing felt fairly short-lived.

Don’t get him wrong, it was still a surreal experience. Hockey had been a constant in his life, something that always felt familiar and welcoming no matter where he was. It had felt as recognisable and comforting to him as his family was. 

But to know he had made it? To know he was skating and playing and wearing the jersey of an NHL team? 

It brought a new thrill to hockey he had never expected, but basked in, nonetheless. It added an extra layer, an extra kick that college hockey could never compete with. It made him feel like everything was worth it, that everything worked out and his dreams aligned with the stars and—fuck, he was making his debut in the National Hockey League. 

But as fast as it came, it went. 

And then summer happened. 

And he was distracted by long nights in Michigan summer heat and cool beers and boat rides that made him feel like nothing else existed beyond the lakehouse. It felt like he was just a normal guy, spending the summer break with his brothers and his friends and pretending like life was always this easy. 

It was his last thread to normalcy before his life fully changed. 

And then he was moving to Jersey, his belongings packed into boxes and cases as he moved in with Jack for the first time since his brother was drafted. He spent days being paraded around his new city, trying to feel familiar in the unfamiliar apartment, trying to bond with a team that had been together long before his arrival. 

It was confusing and exciting and baffling and scary. Every emotion a person could experience, Luke had felt tenfold since he had started preseason training. He felt like he was stumbling through a life that wasn’t his, trying to catch up and get a hold of himself. 

Then, in a blink of an eye, he was about to step out for his first official game of his rookie year in the NHL. 

And, for some stupid reason, he was far more nervous than he had been for the playoff games. 

There wasn’t a pressure on him during the playoffs, not really. People were letting mistakes slide, willing to look over things because it was his first time stepping foot onto the ice for an NHL team. He knew he technically had that luxury now too, that he was a rookie and he was allowed to use this year to find his footing.

But it was hard to remember he was a rookie when everyone and everything kept reminding him he was the third Hughes brother. He wasn’t just a normal rookie or young kid starting out their career in the big leagues. He was the third brother to try and live up to an insane standard his brothers have set, he had to prove he wasn’t a bust who only got here because of his name. 

Luke felt more than ever that he had to prove he belonged, that he deserved to have his spot and his place in the team. That he was more than just his surname and the connotations it brought.

He had to prove—

cherry🍒: break a leg or whatever they say in hockey

cherry🍒: actually wait

cherry🍒: don’t break a leg, that would be pretty shit for you

cherry🍒: feel like it would be pretty useful to skate with two unbroken legs

cherry🍒: what i am trying to say is good luck! 

And, in a silly way, he knew it was stupid. He shouldn’t need to hear someone else say something, to try and reassure him. Jack had tried a few times to prompt the conversation as game day approached. A few of the other guys had tried too. Hell, even Quinn had called him to try and give him a pep talk.

But, in the nicest way he could put it, it felt meaningless when it came from people he felt like needed to say it. 

They needed to believe in him. 

You didn’t. 

Fuck, you didn’t even know a single thing about the sport. You didn’t understand the significance of his last name in the sport. You didn’t understand just how intense the next year of his life was about to be. You didn’t understand a single thing that the other people in his life had been trying to reassure him over. 

And, for some reason that was beyond Luke’s own understanding, that was what he needed.

He needed that unwavering, unbreakable faith from someone who didn’t have to support him. You weren’t his family. You weren’t his teammate. You weren’t a fan. You had no reason to lie to him, to sugarcoat your words and fluff away his worries. You had no reason to believe in him other than the fact you just did. 

And it was what he needed.

It was what he needed minutes before the game was due to start, the clock ticking to puck drop and his eyes lingering on your messages before he had to get up and head out to the ice.

He needed you. 

…

They won the first game of the season. 

And then, because the person in the league who was organising the game schedule decided they wanted to try and test them this early on, they played their second game the next night. 

And they won that one too.

It was surreal, to be fucking frank. It was a kind of buzz that Luke had never experienced before, not in hockey at least. 

Winning was always great, regardless of what age or what league you were playing in. Truthfully, he didn’t think anything would beat the thrill college hockey gave him. His attachment to the boys on his team, the adrenaline of the win pumping through him as he basked in the cheering crowd. 

He thought that was his peak. He thought that was the best it would ever get. 

And then he joined the NHL. 

There was something about wearing the jersey, about knowing that they had thousands of fans watching the game. There was something about skating straight towards his big brother and feeling Jack scream in his ear as they were crowded by the other boys. There was something about knowing this had been his dream since he was a kid, to know he was now living it out. 

It was the perfect way to kick off their season—to kick off his rookie season—and Luke genuinely didn’t think he could sit down for longer than two seconds if someone asked him to. His body was bone-tired, he needed decent rest because professional hockey was no joke and his body was still not used to the jump from college hockey.

But he was buzzing. He was practically vibrating with how excited he was. He felt like he could do anything at that moment.

The locker room was buzzing with talks about how to celebrate. Most of them were tired—happy but fucking tired. The younger group wanted to head out to a bar, the older ones wanted to try to be responsible for the sake of practice in the morning. Nico was somewhere in the middle, trying to be diplomatic and find a solution that worked for everyone.

But honestly, Luke didn’t want to stand in a bar where he would either have to sneak drinks or stay sober. And he didn’t particularly want to get drunk in the first place. And he didn’t want to just head home with Jack when his body felt like it could start bouncing off the walls. 

He had this ever present, insistent buzz itching beneath his skin and he had a million and one ideas on how to scratch it. 

Truthfully, everything was a blur. He didn’t remember the post-game interviews or whatever chirps were being thrown his way in the locker room. He didn’t remember what fuck-ass excuse he gave Jack as he clambered into the backseat of an Uber. He didn’t even remember ordering the Uber in the first place. 

He just knew it led him to your doorstep, knocking on your door somewhere past eleven when he hadn’t even stopped to think if you’d be awake or not. He just knew he wanted to see you. 

It was almost a shock when the door swung open a couple of seconds after he knocked. 

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your team, winner?” You teased, leaning against the door as you spoke. Though, you didn’t look all that bothered with Luke showing up this late to your place unannounced. 

But his brain was still moving a million miles an hour and he knew—somewhere amongst the chaos of his thoughts—that he should have said hello, or apologised for randomly showing up, or for banging on your door when you could have been asleep.

But the only thing he managed to blurt out was, “I want to make you come.” 

You blinked. And again. And then one more time. 

And he thought his racing heart was going to explode in his chest before you pulled the door open wider, an invitation for him to step inside as you muttered something about your nosy neighbours overhearing the whole conversation and eavesdropping. 

Luke stood aimlessly in your entrance hallway, watching as you spun to quickly close the door behind him before turning on your heel to face him. You leaned back against the door, making his chest tighten in some kind of way at the way you smiled at him.

“Feeling confident after your big win, huh?” You grinned, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands, and he couldn’t help but find the act oddly endearing. “Does this mean you’re, like, first place or something?”

Luke didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on his face. “Yeah, we basically won the whole thing. Everyone has just forfeited from the championship.” 

“You know, you joke but if it wasn’t for the fact I can see you trying not to laugh at me, I would have believed you,” you said to him before pushing off the door, taking a few steps closer to him. “You never answered my question though. Did the win make you feel more confident?” 

“Maybe,” he swallowed, his fingers itching to just reach out for you the second you were at arm’s length from him. “It’s just…you always do stuff for me. I wanna do stuff for you too. But like, it’s okay if you don’t want—”

“Don’t do that,” you interrupted.

He frowned a little.

“Don’t second guess your own confidence,” you corrected yourself as you stopped just a step or two away from him. “Be sure of yourself. It’s hot.”

“Mhm,” Luke nodded, though it didn’t sound all that self-assured. 

“Remember, just like hockey. You practice and then you play. We’ve been doing the exact same.” And weirdly enough, your words were comforting. “Have some faith in yourself, Luke.” 

“Right. Just like hockey,” he murmured, glancing at the small distance between the two of you.

“Just like hockey,” you repeated with a small nod.

And, just like hockey, Luke let himself act before he over thought his actions too much. Hockey was about acting fast and thinking later. It was about acting on your instincts and trusting your teammate would be on the other side of the puck. It was about letting every move, every hit, every shot to be nothing but one hundred percent. It was about taking the chance before it was gone.

Luke took a step forward, closing the distance between you two as his hands reached to cup your face before he kissed you. You let out a noise of surprise that sounded from the back of your throat before you sunk into it, letting your hands rest against his stomach as he took control.

It was intoxicating, in a way you had never experienced with Luke before. Most of the time, he was happy to let you take control. He got this cute but hopeless look on his face when he didn’t know where to put his hands. He was happy to just sit back and let you tell him exactly just how you wanted to be touched, kissed, held. 

But this was different. It was overwhelming. It was suffocating in the best way possible. Feeling his body tower over you, feeling his large palms holding you just where he wanted you as his tongue slid into your mouth. Feeling the way Luke acted when he didn’t think, when he didn’t get in his own head, when he just let his body act the way it wanted to. 

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before his hands dropped from your face, fingers wrapping around your thighs with a stuttered ‘jump’ whispered against your lips before he lifted you with the ease only a professional athlete could achieve.

He barely pulled away as he walked deeper into your apartment, the layout practically memorised in his head considering the fact he spent just as much time here as he did in his own apartment. His arms were locked on you, not letting you slip a bit as he wandered into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed with a gentleness that made your stomach dip. 

“Show off,” you murmured as you glanced up at him, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt.

He lazily grinned down at you. “I can be impressive sometimes.” 

“Yeah?” Your lips twitched upwards as you shuffled back until you were sat further up the bed. You reached for the hem of your hoodie, pulling it over your head and tossing the clothing off to the side. “Come show me how impressive you can be, Hughes.” 

He swallowed, eyes darting over your figure before he slowly began making his way onto the bed. “You’re sure?” 

“You were the one who came knocking on my door, saying you wanted to make me come,” you teased. 

“Yeah but,” Luke paused for a second as his gaze caught yours. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it because I want to.” He flashed you an awkward but sweet smile. “Consent is sexy, you know?” 

You snorted, but you grinned back at him. “You have my consent to make me come, Luke.”

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I just…I want you to enjoy it but I don’t…”

“Breathe,” you murmured in a softer voice, reaching up to gently squeeze his cheeks to catch his attention. “I’m still here, you’re not doing this alone. Just like hockey, remember? Think of me as your teammate.”

His face instantly scrunched up. “I really don’t want to be thinking about any of my teammates right now.”

You snorted, despite yourself. 

“Yeah, okay, maybe not my finest choice of words. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not doing this alone. Sex is a ‘two way street’, ‘it takes two to tango’ kinda thing, Luke,” you spoke as you reached down to guide his hands to the waistband of your leggings. “We’re doing this together.” 

“Together,” he murmured with a nod.

“Just like hockey,” you said to him again, seeing a hint of his earlier confidence shine in his eyes as his fingers hooked the waistband of your leggings before pulling them down your legs. 

He tugged them over your feet before throwing them off to the side, where your hoodie still laid. He didn’t even hesitate before he ripped his own shirt off over his head, in some weird mixed statement so you weren’t the only one who was half-naked—and because he felt his whole body running far warmer than he thought was normal. 

“Foreplay is important. It’s like warm-ups, it’s necessary and preferred and makes the game easier, as well as more enjoyable,” you said, your voice a little lower than before as you gently guided one of his hands from your waist downwards. “It makes her feel good. It makes you feel good. It’s sexy.” 

“Sexy,” he noted with a nod, though his eyes were transfixed on you. 

Luke gulped a little as his fingers rested along the elastic waistband of your panties. His heart was racing in his chest and blood was roaring in his ears and it was a little hard to focus on the words you were saying when his dick was twitching in his sweatpants.

“Just gotta know where to touch her,” you whispered, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers lightly skimmed over your clothed cunt. You choked out a gasp as you pressed a slow, deliberate circle over your clit. 

He didn’t think even a meteor crashing into your bedroom could make him tear his eyes away from you right now.

“Try.”

Luke’s brows raised a little as you stared at him expectantly. 

“C’mon, winner,” your lips twitched upwards. “Just like hockey.”

Just like hockey.

Luke slowly ran his hand over your waist, feeling the cotton fabric of your panties under his touch. He kept his eyes locked on your cunt, trying to ignore the way his hand was shaking as he ran his fingers along the fabric. 

A soft sigh left your lips and his eyes snapped up to look at your face, to watch your expressions closely to see what you reacted to. His thumb pressed down experimentally and your nose twitched a little.

“A little higher.”

He listened. 

“Firm but gentle.”

He listened.

“Fuck, just like that, Luke.” 

He listened.

“A little faster.” 

Luke listened. 

He listened as you guided him. He listened until there was a small wet spot on the front of your panties. He listened until you were panting and telling him to pull them down your legs. He listened as he gently glided his fingers between your folds, watching with dark eyes as his fingers glinted with your release. 

“I get it,” he muttered out at some point, his thumb pressing down on your swollen clit as your hips bucked up against his touch. “The noises. Why you like them.” He gulped a little as his eyes glanced up at you. “You sound pretty when you’re moaning, Cherry.”

“Shit,” your eyes fluttered shut as you reached down to grip his wrist. “Just…fuck, I need to feel you inside me.”

His cheeks burned hot. 

“Just,” you panted, chewing down on your bottom lip until it was red and a little swollen. “Slow, okay?”

He gulped. “You sure?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “You wanna make me come?”

He nodded.

“Then yeah, I’m sure,” you murmured, brows furrowed together as you felt him glide his fingers through your folds until they were completely covered. 

And, if Luke was being so completely honest, he could have come in his pants from the sight alone. It was like at the last possible moment, his brain remembered to look up as he slowly slide one finger inside you and, fuck, he was glad he did.

He felt entranced. He felt mesmerised. He felt like he was stuck in some sort of hypnosis and he couldn’t look away. 

He wanted to burn this moment in his memory so he could never, never forget it. He wanted to memorise the way your eyes fluttered shut. He wanted to memorise the way you felt squeezing around him, like you didn’t want him to ever leave. He wanted to memorise the way your lips parted with a silent scream as he slid another finger inside you, as he curled his fingers, as you bucked your hips. 

He wanted to remember every single fucking moment until the day he died.

“A little faster,” you breathed out, your head thrown back on your pillow as he followed your instructions. “Shit, yes. Like that. Fuck.”

“Good?” Luke murmured, his whole body feeling like it was on fire and his dick straining against his boxers but, fuck, he couldn’t care less when his attention was on you.

“Good,” you confirmed with a nod as one hand gripped the sheets, the other reaching down to give your clit some attention. “So good, Luke.” 

Something in his stomach flipped at your words. 

If someone asked Luke Hughes how the last forty-eight hours of his life had been, he would tell them it had been fucking amazing. 

And if they asked him what the best moment was, he should probably answer that he has too many to choose from. That maybe it was the fact he officially started his rookie year in the National Hockey League. That maybe it was the fact he won not one, but two NHL games. That maybe it was the fact they won them one after the other. That maybe it was the fact he did all of the above whilst sharing the ice with his big brother.

But, in all fucking honesty, Luke would have chosen this moment. 

He would have chosen the sight of you writhing and squirming beneath him. He would have chosen the sight of you panting and moaning and begging. He would have chosen the sight of you coming on his fingers, your back arching off the bed and his name a whimper on your lips. He would have chosen the sleepy smile you gave him as your body twitched as he pulled his fingers out, already missing the feeling of you clenched around him. He would have chosen the look of pure lust and desire in your eyes as you watched him slide his fingers in his mouth, his body moving before his brain caught up as he sucked the taste of you off his fingers. 

He would have chosen this moment. And maybe that realisation would be a lot more alarming and head-spinning in a couple of hours, but right now it was a passing thought before he slumped down on the bed next to you.

“Luke?” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re a good student,” you murmured, feeling a smile on your lips as he let out a small huff of laughter. “A little more practice and I think you could have a good business going for you if the hockey thing doesn’t work out.”

He shook his head. “I think my skating skills are still better than my sex skills, but the confidence you have in me is appreciated.”

“Hm, true,” you said as you nudged his arm, lifting it up before you curled into his side. Luke didn’t say anything but wrap his arm around you to pull you closer. “You do skate very fast.” 

“Those two videos really told you everything you needed to know, huh?” He teased, his words light-hearted and joking and warm. 

“No, the games you just played told me that,” you corrected.

Luke froze, his mind replaying the words in his head like he wasn’t sure he heard you right the first time. “You watched my games?”

“Yeah,” you answered like it was obvious. “You said they were the start of the important ones, the ones that counted. I mean, I didn’t understand half of it and I spent a significant amount confused but,” you paused to shrug. “I wanted to support you.”

His chest tightened and it was a little harder to breathe, but he didn’t really want to let you go just yet.

“You didn’t have to,” he eventually choked out.

“I wanted to,” you answered before continuing. “Who knows, maybe I’m your good luck charm.” 

He knew you were joking. He could hear as much in your voice. But it still made his heart clench a little at the thought.

“Guess you gotta watch every game then.” 

“Guess you gotta teach me the game so I understand it then.” 

His arm tightened around you, his face burned red and his heart skipped a beat or two. But he still managed to mutter out, “Deal, Cherry.”

.

[giannaln4]

Do You Miss Me?

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Four months after your breakup, Lando needs to know if you miss him as much as he misses you, or at least if you still think about him, even if the answer might kill him.  (3k words)

warnings: angst, breakup, cursing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of one-night stands, use of Y/N, happy ending

a/n: FINALLY i wrote some angst. honestly i had this idea in mind sometime last week, but i didn't know where to start. not gonna lie, i really do like how it turned out but i never know how to end fics so it sucks a little towards the end. anyway pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Four months. It had been four months of pure agony. Four months since you left him, and for four months, he couldn’t think of anything else than you. 

You wouldn’t say you ended on good terms, considering the last conversation you had was more of an argument about how little you thought he cared about your relationship. 

That was far from the truth, and he tried so hard to convince you otherwise, but clearly it wasn’t enough. You broke up with him that night, leaving his apartment immediately after and never looked back, leaving a broken Lando behind. Two amazing years beside you down the drain just like that. Maybe he should tried harder.

He really shouldn’t have waited till the last second to express how much he cared, and you would probably never know that, but he still does. 

After the first month, he started to give up. You wanted nothing to do with him, and honestly, he didn’t blame you, so when he realised he would never be able to fix it, he stopped trying, but that doesn’t mean he stopped loving you. 

He still remembers vividly when he got back home after a race weekend and went out for a drive, something he thought could help him get his mind off many things that were going on. It worked, at first, it was going great, really, the fresh Monaco air running through his hair as the music blasted through the speakers, Lando singing at the top of his lungs every single word, until he paid attention to the passenger seat and spotted a shiny little tube. He reached for it, and his world went back down when he realised what it was. Your lipgloss. Not any lipgloss, but your favourite one. The one you used to wear every single day and the one he got so used to tasting and smelling. 

After that, it was like something shifted inside him. Lando tried hard to forget about you, going to parties, and getting involved with anyone he could take back to his hotel. He never took anyone back to his apartment, the space contained too many happy memories of the two of you; it was almost sacred to him. He would never dare to stain those with one-night stands. 

Every time he sat on the couch where he watched you leave, for some reason he waited for you to come back. It was stupid; he knew that, but maybe one day you would. And if it wasn’t you, he prayed that at least it was someone just like you. 

Maybe that’s what he was looking for every other night. Sometimes they were good enough to make him forget, but most of the time, they weren’t. They weren’t even close to that, because he thought about your lips when he kissed someone else, he thought about your hands when he felt his hair being pulled softly, he thought about your legs when he had someone else’s wrapped around him, he thought about your eyes when he looked at anyone else. 

Just when he thinks he’s getting over you, something happens that pulls him back in, and he thinks it’s slowly killing him inside. 

Tonight was one of those nights. He was at the club with some of his mates, his mind fully enjoying his surroundings, not a trace of you up there, until that song started playing, that stupid song that you used to hum when cooking a meal for the both of you, his mind bringing him back to all those times he hugged you from behind as he watched you and helped you, humming along with you and planting soft kisses every now and then. Or when you were taking a shower and didn’t care to keep it down, and he would just enjoy the little concert while he laid on your shared bed, waiting for you to come back to him. Or when you played it in repeat every time you were in the car, messing up a few words even though you had heard it a million times. God, he hated that he got a little sick of it back then.

He stopped moving immediately, and instead, he looked around him, only to spot everyone else dancing along with the melody. 

Did no one else care about what that song meant? Did no one else think of you? 

But there was one main topic invading his mind. Did you also think of him when you heard that song? Did you remember all the little moments? Do you even think of him anymore? There was only one way to find out, and even though he promised he wouldn’t do it anymore, he just needed to know. 

Lando took his phone out of his pocket and started walking away from his group, already looking up your contact. 

“Hey mate, where are you going?” Max stopped him, catching a glimpse of what was on his screen. 

“I just need to step outside for a moment.”

Max looked at him in doubt. He knew how stubborn Lando was when it came to you, so no matter how hard he tried to convince him, there was no stopping him. “Alright, just don’t do anything stupid.”

Lando nodded, not really caring what he thought, and kept moving until he finally found a way out of the loud club. He clicked on your contact without even thinking, nervousness washing over him when it started to ring. He waited, and waited, and waited, until it went to voicemail. 

He was not surprised; it has been like that for a while anyway, but he couldn’t deny he was a little hurt. 

Once the beep ended, he cleared his throat, ready to utter all those questions that he had been dying to know, but he didn’t even know where to start. You hadn’t talked in so long, how was he supposed to ask such things?

“Y/N, it’s me, uh- sorry, I know it’s late and you’re probably sleeping right now, or you just saw my name and didn’t feel like picking up, which I get, I don’t expect you to… you know… anyway, uh-“ 

He has no idea where he was going with this, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of segue that made sense. What he truly wanted to ask doesn’t make sense either. 

“I know that you probably don’t want to see me again- I don’t know but, uh- I wanted to tell you that… you left your lipgloss in my car- and I was wondering if maybe you wanted it back, I could stop by one of these nights.” He cleared his throat again, mentally cursing himself at how stupid and desperate he sounded. “Anyway, please call me. Bye.” 

He hung up and went back to his car, looking for the lipgloss once again and putting it safely in his pocket before making his way back home. 

Even with alcohol in his system, it was hard for Lando to go to sleep. If he couldn’t ask you over the phone, how could he possibly stand before you and say all those things?

In reality, it was simple. He had nothing to lose if he had already lost you, and who knows, maybe you never stopped loving him either.

The last thing he wanted was to get his hopes up. He wanted to see you come back to him, but seeing you again would be enough.

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ 

The next morning, you stared at your phone screen for a little too long, debating whether you should listen to his voicemail or just ignore it. 

You wanted to hear it so bad, but it took you so long to forget about him that you knew you probably shouldn’t. Not that you ever forgot about him completely, no, but just enough to go on with your life and pretend to be fine. 

Curiosity got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were listening to it. You could tell he had been drinking, the alcohol influence was notorious in his voice, and he sounded unsure of what he was telling you. However, you knew he was telling the truth. You did leave your lipgloss in his car, but there had to be another reason for his call, right?

The day went by and you didn’t get back to him, but his voice and words lingered in your mind all the time, and at this point, you had convinced yourself that he had an ulterior motive; why else would he call you at 3 AM, drunk, telling you about something you left in his car months ago?

You would be lying if you said you were never close to giving him a call while being drunk, but your friends never let you do something so stupid, telling you to remember why you left him in the first place, but sometimes you wonder just that: why?

It wasn’t because you didn’t love him anymore; you did, even now, but the heat of the moment made you utter those words without you realising it until it was too late. 

Your pride would never let you take it back anyway, so you just left his apartment after packing your stuff, with Lando following every turn you made as he begged for you to listen. Sometimes you wondered what would have happened if you never broke up with him, and instead, you listened to what he was telling you; they weren’t excuses, you know he meant every word, and maybe you should’ve given him one more chance.

You weren’t sure why, but your mind decided you should see him. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but god, he had been living in your mind more than usual, and you needed to know if he truly just wanted to give you your lipgloss, and if not, what were the reasons he had, so you texted him the next morning.

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ 

His heart nearly stopped when he saw your name pop up on his screen. Five simple words that could change everything. Or at least he hoped so. 

‘You can stop by tonight’ is what the message read, and he immediately started to get nervous. 

After not getting a response from you the first day, he pretty much gave up and figured you were done with him and would never see you again. He thought you either didn’t buy his dumb excuse or didn’t care to even listen to his voicemail. But there he was, on his way to see you after four long months. 

Lando parked outside your apartment, taking a deep breath and rehearsing what he’s been meaning to ask you, his heart pounding with every step he took as he walked towards your door. 

He kept your lipgloss in his pocket, like he had been doing for the last couple of days, and knocked on your door, a little unsure of how tonight would turn out. 

The door slowly opened before him, and there you were, standing in front of him as beautiful as always. 

“Hi,” he said nervously as he tried to give you a smile. 

“Hi. You can come in.” You stepped to the side, almost melting at how his delicious scent invaded your nostrils as he walked past you and into your apartment.

“Thanks.” He looked around and he felt… weird; it was all so familiar yet so strange. That used to be your apartment before you moved in with him, and the memory of all those nights he would stay over came back in a rush. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Thank you.”

“I see you finally got that lamp,” he said, your eyes following his and finding the green lamp that rested on your console, one that you had been wanting for a while when you still lived with him, but he was never a big fan of it, saying the colour didn’t really match with the rest of his apartment. 

“Yeah. I know you always thought the colour was hard to match, but I like it.”

“Right. It looks good,” he said, his eyes finding yours again. “You look good.”

You didn’t know what to say; you wanted to say it back, but something in you didn’t let you, so you just nodded and tried to utter a little ‘thank you’, but you weren’t sure he heard it. 

“Anyway, uh- I have your lipgloss. I know it’s your favourite one, so I thought I should give it back.” He took it out of his pocket and placed it in your hand. Somehow, it was hard to let it go; it was almost as if he was giving up the last piece of you. he had, apart from the memories.

“Thanks,” you said as you took it, your hand brushing his for a split second. You locked eyes with him, waiting for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead, his gaze dropped to his now empty hands. “Is that really why you are here?”

He thought about it for a moment. No, there were a million reasons he was standing before you right now. He shook his head and took another deep breath, getting ready to finally let it all out. 

“I miss you,” he looked at you again and saw your intention to say something, probably to stop him from going back to that topic, so he decided to interrupt you. “I know- I know we’ve been over this a million times, and a million times you have given me reasons why it can’t happen, why we can’t happen, but Y/N, for four months I’ve done nothing but miss you and regret how stupid I was for letting you go.” 

Unsure of how you would react, he took a step closer to you and tried to hold your hand, almost letting out a sigh of relief when you didn’t pull away. 

“I just need to know, do you miss me? Do you ever think about me, about us?”

You could feel the tears threatening to leave your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to say yes and kiss him, but after how things ended between the two of you, you didn’t know if that was a good idea. 

“You have no idea how much I wish I could go back and make it right, love you the way you deserve, and show it like I was supposed to. Maybe our time is over, and even if you think it’s better to say goodbye, please don’t say goodbye.”

He finally stopped and waited for you to say something. The seconds felt like hours, and it seemed impossible to read your face.

“I’m sorry, Lan.”

“Please,” he begged, standing even closer to you. “Please, baby. How can I live without you now that I know what your love feels like, what loving you feels like, and how terrible it is to live without you?” Locking eyes with you, he decided to ask you one more time “Do you miss me?”

His teary gaze was intense, almost suffocating, and you couldn’t keep it together any longer. You nodded as your tears started falling down your face, squeezing his big hand back. “But I don’t know if it’s gonna work.”

“Yes it will, I will make sure of that. Everything I did wrong the first time, it won’t happen again. I promise.”

“But what if it doesn’t? I can’t go through another breakup. Not with you.” Not that he did terrible things, his job was getting in the way of your relationship and you just wished he made an effort to make sure you never felt neglected, but right now, all you could think about was how bad it got for you when you just broke up with him. It was hard to do everything, and you didn’t know you could handle it again.

Lando, on the other hand, was sure it would all work out this time if you just gave him one more chance. He was not letting you go, not again.

“I know it’s too much to ask, but please, just give me one more chance. I won’t let it go to waste; I’ll use it so I can spend the rest of my life with you, just like we planned.” Maybe that’s all you needed to hear. You believed him, but you were somehow scared to give in. “I will never hurt you again, I promise.”

“Okay,” you said, barely above a whisper, so he wasn’t completely sure if he had heard you right.

“Okay?” He waited for you to either break his heart again or to make him the happiest man alive.

“Yes,” was all you said, leaving all your pride and insecurities behind as you hugged him as tight as you could, almost as if you were making up for all those times you needed his touch but didn’t have it.

Lando had more tears in his eyes than before, but they were happy tears now. “Come back, baby, you can bring that lamp.” You let out a genuine laugh for the first time in a while, enjoying the way he was embracing you.

He pulled away and looked at you, as lovingly as always. He couldn’t believe you were his again. Putting a strand of hair behind your ear, he was begging with his eyes to kiss you again.

It probably had to be you to make the move this time, you thought, since he was the one that had the courage to do what you didn’t. So you did, you closed the gap between you and finally tasted his lips again. It was long and full of love, the kiss transmitting what the words couldn’t.

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away, with his forehead resting against yours as he caressed all of you.