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#because i also would be in love with that long hair man who plays a guitar
egcdeath · 17 hours
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omg i loved loved loveddd that marriage fic of patrick zweig!! there is a serious shortage of patrick zweig x reader fics, I had a request actually if you could maybe write more of pregnant reader x patrick or maybe even newborn dad patrick (i have a soft spot for that& i loved the ending because of that) tysm!! :)
thank you and that prompt is so cute!! i’m currently super busy, so i really do not have the time/mental capacity for a whole fic so here’s a (long) list of headcanons!
also, i’m imagining the pairing from something old, something new, but you don’t have to read that to get this!
when you first tell patrick that you’re ready for kids, that man is ECSTATIC. in SOSN, they’re just “friends” but he definitely has feelings for her before they address it, so taking the step to start a family together is a huge one.
patrick suddenly starts believing alllll of the old wives tales and superstitions about pregnancy. you have to call him out for it every now and then like, “patrick, wtf??” and he’s always just like “i swear it’s true, i heard it from a friend of my friend’s aunt.” and you just give him a crazy look.
once you finally take a test and find out it’s official, the two of you are SO excited. patrick tries to lift you up and spin you off the ground but that almost instantly triggers your morning sickness.
that man is so excited to be a father. he’s constantly putting his hand on your tiny bump and reading books on parenting (you don’t know that you’d ever seen him read a book before then) and asking you about when you’re free to take baby related classes. you have to remind him that you’re really not that far along and he needs to chill.
he would be so accommodating to you. hold your hair back while you’re having morning sickness. wake up in the middle of the night to get the ingredients and make you a pickle watermelon salad. massage your swollen feet. he already loves and cares about you so much and he wants to be sure to give you and the baby the top tier of treatment ever.
patrick is very much a hot head who loves to argue. and i think in the early stages he might egg on your mood swings A LITTLE BIT. but i think pretty quickly he’d realize he needs to dial it back because arguing with a pregnant person is crazy. but every now and then you just want to argue with him to argue with him or old times sake, and when he ends up being the bigger person, you say something about it and he’ll humor you. i actually think it would be so funny if you and him had like . a safe word to indicate that you were just playing, that way he doesn’t say the wrong thing and make you cry or something.
specifically for the pair from sosn, i think that they would maybe vaguely mention that they were trying to get pregnant to their family, but they wouldn’t tell family until it can’t be hidden anymore. like sometimes you just want something to yourselves, and you know that if your families get involved, things will be WAYYYY blown out of proportion. you tell your friends, who are super happy for you, and you tell your family who are also very happy for you. your families immediately start debating about baby name and whose great grandma is going to be the baby’s namesake. patrick insists that there will be more than one baby to name, then winks at you.
as the baby approaches, he’s coming with you for appointments. it is his final season before he retires, so he is pretty busy, but he’s either flying to meet you or for you to meet him vice versa. he ends up having a tennis event end on the same day as one of your ultrasound appts and you’re SO sure that he isn’t going to be able to make it, but lo and behold. who comes running through the door just as the doctor starts applying that cold gel to your stomach??? you actually cry a few tears of joy. patrick kisses them off your face.
you’re struggling these last few months or pregnancy, but patrick has your back. i can see him being super accommodating during this time period, especially once his tennis commitments end.
he starts tearing through his books and making you come to all of these classes with him. you’re kinda having the time of your life bonding with your man and getting a little less anxious for your baby.
you go into labor in the middle of the night. patrick grabs your birth bag (the two of you have been preparing for this) and holds your hand the whole time that he’s speeding down the highway.
this man is full of theatrics when you get to the hospital. he’s yelling and shit. he’s asking all of the doctors where they went to school and if they’re qualified to take care of you. they’re sick and tired of him immediately. you wish you could be sick and tired of him but you’re actually to scared to care.
you’re in pain. he keeps telling you that he wishes he could take all your pain and give it to him. he’s so dramatic. you love him with all of your being.
your labor is not a short one, but he’s by your side for every single second that he can. he’s telling you stupid stories. he’s talking about things you’re gonna do with the baby when they arrive. he’s trying everything he can to distract you.
when it’s time to start pushing, he holds your hand again. you’re squeezing his hand so hard that it goes a little numb, but he doesn’t mention it. he’s cheering you on like you’re at a sporting event.
suddenly your baby is here. the two of you cry happy tears when you hold her. it’s the best moment of your lives.
adjusting to having a baby at home is definitely… something! the two of you consider hiring a nanny (as all rich people do) but ultimately decide against it. patrick is literally retired so like, stay at home dad era incoming!!
babies really are not glamorous so i’ll skip all the gross stuff and focus on the good.
you guys think the baby is the cutest thing on earth. even though you’re sleep deprived and stressed and still in a good amount of pain, you think that the baby is the best thing either of you have accomplished.
sometimes you watch in the doorway when patrick sings and rocks the baby to sleep. it is the cutest thing you’ve ever witnessed.
patrick lovessss a baby bjorn. he’s walking around the house chatting it up with your baby, just telling her about how much of a tennis legend he was back in the day, flipping pancakes in the kitchen with baby attached to him, etc etc. anything he can do, he swears baby can also do.
patrick is just so cute and sweet and gentle with the baby.
patrick girldad?? idk. just think about it.
patrick loves dressing up your daughter in silly little baby outfits. she loves it. you just shake your head in mock disapprovement while patrick brings the baby over to your face for a little cheek kiss, followed by his own cheek kiss. it’s very hard to be pretend disappointed after that.
once baby is a little older, i think the two of them would try to get her into tennis. maybe see if it’s her calling. it’s not. but she loves dancing, so that’s what she does!
the two of you are at every recital, watching her clumsily tot around. it’s so cute. patrick swears she has star power and is gonna be big some day. you lovingly roll your eyes at him. he insists it’s true.
your families also LOVEEEE the baby. i could see patrick being pretty overprotective from them at times too though, especially when they try to insist that she should be a certain way or do a certain thing.
the three of you are a very happy family. you were a little worried before you asked about how he might be as a father, or scared that he was going to run off at the proposition but he’s definitely taken to it.
i hope you enjoyed reading that as much as i enjoyed writing it! this was super fun to do and i would love to write more hcs for anyone who has any more ideas!!
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harniltons · 2 days
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— trending.
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pg6 x woc!singer.
pablo admires you while he attends your concert, but when you bring out the artist who is featured in your latest single, he does not like it one bit.
warnings; strong language, jealousy, pinch of possessiveness.
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“te va ir espectacular, mi vida.” you and your boyfriend pablo share another long lasting kiss backstage, right before going up to those thousands of fans screaming for you. “if you need anything, just let me know, i’ll be there before you can blink, alright?” you nod and give him a hug. “when i break this hug, i’m going to go on stage and i’m not gonna look back because then i’m gonna wanna stay with you until every one leaves.” pablo chuckles. “as much as i want that… people paid good money to see you, they’re not gonna be leaving anytime soon.” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. you break the hug and find yourself walking to the stage.
when the spotlight hit you, you swore that the screams got louder. “BUENAS NOCHES, CHILE!” you greet your chilean fans who continued to shout and chant your name. “bueno, pues yo espero que estén bien, yo estoy muy bien… nerviosa, pero contenta de poder tener esta oportunidad de darles un concierto.” [ well, i hope you guys are good, i’m very good… nervous, but happy that i have this opportunity to give you guys a concert. ] you smile widely.
pedri, who was also attending the concert toon a picture of your boyfriend, who was taking a picture of you, you looked happy, nervous, and pablo kept falling in love all over again.
“¿vamos?” you question, your fans kept screaming yes and yes, you laughed. “VAMOS!” you raise your arms up and one of your songs begin to play. your backup dancers make their way on stage.
pablo was a few feet away from you, but, God. he knew how bad he wanted to be on that stage with you. those dances and movements you were doing were making him wish you’d turn around and stay with him backstage. pedri found him adjusting himself and swallowing his own saliva quiet often.
that way you ran your hands up and down your body made him think those were his own. your his hands tangled up in your hair. your backup dancers picking you up, no, that was him.
the way you were out of breath and sweaty after two or three songs got him acting worse than he was before the concert even started.
your smile and your angelic voice got him weak, your curls and your glowy, sunkissed skin were his favorite features of yours, along with your lips and eyes.
you both met at a young age, and pablo was a dickhead. he never bullied you or anything, he was just annoyed by you, but he never called you any names, or made fun of any of your features. the only thing he didn’t like, or what made him find you annoying was your singing. you were constantly singing, and for him, the worst part was that you didn’t even sing bad. you sung gracefully, but he just wasn’t having it.
but, he had to deal with it. because everytime his family went over to your family’s house, his parents told you to play something in the piano or violin, or to sing something. little did he know that the one thing he hated the most, turned out to be his favorite thing about you.
a little over an hour to your concert, you stopped all music to announce something. “ustedes deberían saber que yo no me iba ir de aquí sin cantar la canción #1 de aquí… y claro, que no lo iba hacer sola…” [ you guys should’ve known that i was not leaving here without singing the #1 song here… and of course, i was not going to do it alone. ] as soon as you finish the last sentence, your latest single started playing, and behind you approached the featured singer in that song.
the two of you begun singing the song, exchanging glances and looks that if you were in a public relationship with pablo, people would suspect the nastiest things about the both of you. he leaned to touch you, but since there is only one man that could touch you the way he suggested, you backed away a bit.
although you weren’t letting him feed off you, he wanted more, and pablo was not fond of that in the slightest. the expression on his face went from love and admiration to hate, not to you, of course, he would never, and he knew you would never allow yourself to downgrade that bad, but for him. his heartbeat quickened, and this time it wasn’t because of how madly obsessed he was with you, it had to deal with mad obsession, just not from his part.
that man was eating you up completely—no, not pablo, your guest. he knew he couldn’t do anything about it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a plan, you know, just in case.
pedri looked over at his friend, and he noticed something was wrong when pablo’s face changed completely. “¿oye? ¿y esa cara?” [ hey, why the face? ] “¿no lo ves? esperando a que ella se le pegue, no disimula el hecho que la quiere follar.” [ can’t you see? he’s waiting for her to get closer, he can’t hide the fact he wants to fuck her. ] pedri hides his urge to laugh. “do you think so little of yourself that you actually think that she’s going to leave you for him?” pablo laughs. “no. she knows i’m all hers, and that she’s mine.” pedri smiles and cocks an eyebrow, pretending not to laugh after he came up with something that’s gonna trigger the ticking time bomb that pablo is.
“if they’re acting like this now… just imagine how it was those days they were recording… all by themselves.” pablo’s nose flares and his chest rises up and down repeatedly, pedri notices this and smirks at himself. mission succesful. “fuck you.” pedri and pablo keep a cold gaze on each other, not blinking, but pedri gives in by looking back on stage. pedri’s “joke” did not amuse pablo, what he managed to do was to make pablo stand from his seat and leave.
he was walking up and down the whole building, to blow off a little steam, but he still had his eyes on you on stage until the song you and your guest had ended, which after what felt like 7 hours, finally concluded. as if performing a song together wasn’t enough for your little guest, as you turned your back on him, he wrapped your arms around your waist and hugged you. you semi-returned the hug back by grabbing onto his arms and smiling, but broke it when he kissed your neck. you shook it off because you were in front of thousands of fanatics, and you didn’t want them to know how uncomfortable you felt.
boom.
if pedri wasn’t enough, that hug really did it for pablo.
“gracias a mi buen amigo por colaborar conmigo en esta canción tan exitosa. te quiero a ti, y te quiero chile!! muchas gracias por tenerme aquí esta noche muy bonita, espero verlos muy pronto, buenas noches!” [ thank you to my good friend for collaborating with me in such a wonderful song. i love you, and i love you chile!! thank you so much for having me here in this beautiful night, i hope to see you very soon, good night! ]
after saying goodbye to your fans and to your guest, you head backstage, you received hugs from people you work with and friends, but you dismissed them early since you wanted to change, shower and go to sleep.
you were still backstage, removing your earrings when pablo entered. your face lit up and you smiled widely. “pablo!” you exclaim and stand from your seat to give him a hug. you shower with him kisses until you break apart. “how did i do? oh my gosh, bebé, i want to cry! i want to scream! i was so nervous, i didn’t—“ pablo kisses you to shut you up, you feel your face beat up. “you did more amazing, mi amor, don’t worry.” your face softens and you tilt your head. your foreheads come in contact. “thank you.” you cup his cheeks and see his expression fade. “pablo… what’s wrong?” he sits down on the sofa behind him, you sit in the chair in front of your vanity.
“mi reina, sabes que yo te amo mucho. i don’t ever want to lose you, i hope you know that.” you raise an eyebrow and remove the last of your earrings. “oh, meu deus.” you mumble in your native tongue. you stand and make your way to pablo. you stand between his legs, and his hands lay on your hips, while yours are in his hair. “bebé, you mean everything to me. no sé que mas quieres que diga… nothing will ever make me change the way i see or feel about you. what’s wrong?” you sit down on his laps, now his hands are laying on your thighs, and your arms are wrapped around his neck.
“nothing. nothing’s wrong, it’s just… i got—jealous? i guess, seeing him up there with you, and watching him eat you completely with just his eyes, and his move—“ your lips were on his now. you couldn’t bare to hear another second of his nonsense. he obviously kissed back, deepened it, too. you break the kiss and though the two were already out of breath, you manage to let out a “soy tuya, y eres mío. lo juramos.” [ i’m yours. you’re mine. we swore. ] pablo hums. he doesn’t take his eyes off your lips, desperately needing more of you. he fears that if he looks in your eyes, this would all lead somewhere that it shouldn’t lead to, given the location.
he softly lays you down on the couch and begins to kiss your neck, leading to your collarbone, then between your breasts, you hold his head, and mutter a soft “stop.” he hears this and looks up. “let’s go home, yeah?” he nods and you both sit up. “but wow, you look amazing, and on that stage, better.” you raise your eyebrows and smile at the kind words your boyfriend was saying. “just ask pedri— apart from me acting all you know… about the guy, not everything was bad.” you chuckle.
you pick up the last things you need to bring home and pablo helps you. “ahora vamos para casa para que pueda hacer toda las cosas que deseaba hacer mientras estabas allá arriba.” [ let’s go home so i can do all the things i wanted to while you were up there. ] you smiled at what he said, but your stomach flipped in so many ways that the only thing you could do was chuckle. you grab onto his hand and leave the building.
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— cuando yo la miro me voy en un viaje, baby, me matan tus ojos y tus tatuajes. ৻ꪆ
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melanieph321 · 2 days
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Dominik Szoboszlai x Black Reader - Not Enough Part 3/6
Part 1 Part 2
Dominik is so annoying in this 😫
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Summary - Reader is excited to meet Dominik's parents but is shocked to find out that they are very prejudiced and do not approve of her.
Enjoy!
Székesfehérvár. Dominik's hometown. A small community located about a forty minute drive from Budapest. Although Székesfehérvár was far from as vibrant as the city of Budapest. The town looked more like a prehistoric gathering place for Lords and Dukes of the 1800th century. A place where the sun didn't look out from behind the clouds. A place that probably only had one unanimous shopping center where kids would lurk around what they believed to be a modern hang out.
"Uh, Dominik...?" You were skeptically looking out of the car window. A friend of his let you borrow it for as long as you were staying in Hungary.
"Yeah, babe?" Dominik's eyes left the road, turning to you.
"Can you tell me about your family again?"
"My family?"
"Yeah, like your siblings and stuff." It would be your first time meeting them. You wanted to know what kind of people you were dealing with, perhaps they were also as close-minded as Dominik's parents?
"Well, my younger brother plays football just like me."
"Really, in which league, Bundesliga?"
He chuckled.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing." He said but did not seize to laugh. "Let's just say my brother is still muturing when it comes to playing professional football."
Whatever that meant, you thought.
"My sister, on the other hand, you'll like her."
"I will?" You perked up.
"Yes, she's very much into fashion and that poet culture shit that you like."
"Wow, you just made me sound like the wokest black girl you've ever been with."
The creases in his eyes widened when he smiled. "Because you are the wokest black girl I've ever been with."
"Dominik, I'm the only black girl you've ever been with."
"True." He nodded and leaned over for a kiss.
You pressed your lips against his. "Idiot."
After a few more minutes in the car, Dominik pulled up to a lovely little home on the outskirts of the town. Your heart pounded in your chest once you realized that this was it. You were meeting his parents.
Dominik walked ahead of you towards the house. You had preferred to hold his hand. Nevertheless, with a knock on the door, he stepped back to stand next to you, waiting in anticipation for...
"Nikki!"
The door flung open, and a child sprung out of the house straight into Dominik's arms.
"You're home, Nikki, you're home!"
"I told you I was coming." Dominik twirled the boy around in his arms. They looked awfully alike, with the same carved cheeks and jet black hair.
"Benedek, who is at the door?"
With all of the commotion a woman appered, eyes wide at the sight of...
"Nikki? Nem tudom elhinni!" (Nikki, I can't believe it!)
"Anya!" (Mom!)
It was a heart-felt reunion. With Dominik putting down his little brother to embrace his mother.
"Mit csinálsz itt?" (What are you doing here?)
It was interesting. You had picked up a few Hungarian words after three years with Dominik. However, compared to his little brother, you understood nothing of what was coming out of his mother's mouth. She had a very thick accent.
"Benedek, is that you bringing cold air into my house?"
A loud thud came from inside the house. It got louder and louder until a large figure took up the door frame. A man, Dominik's father, appeared.
"Nikki?"
He wasted no time, rushing down the steps to greet his son. Dominik's feet left the ground as his father embraced him.
"Nem tudom elhinni!" (I can't believe it.)
His father's accent was also a very thick one, utterly incomprehensible to your ears.
"Hey?" You hissed. You were standing to the side, observing Dominik's heartfelt welcome home when there was a tugg at your skirt. Looking down, a pair of green eyes were staring back at you in wonder. Dominik's little brother.
"Are you my brother's friend?" He asked.
"No." You said in the most disgraceful attempt to speak Hungarian. "I'm not your brothers friend, I'm his...."
"Anya, Apa." (Mom, dad.) Dominik interrupted. With that, all eyes were on you now. "Szeretném, ha találkozna, Y/N, a személyi asszisztensemmel." (I would like for you to meet, Y/N, my personal assistant.)
As oblivious as you were, the mentioning of your name could only mean that this was your queue. "Hello!" You smiled. "It's very nice to meet you all."
Dominik turned to his parents, translating what you just said. They looked at you skeptically but nodded approvingly.
"Egy fekete?" (A black?) His dad scuffed. "Csak illőnek tűnik." (Seems only fitting.)
"Zsolt." His mother frowned, slapping Dominik's father in the arm.
All you could do was keep smiling.
"Cacsorára marad, úgyhogy viselkedjünk." (She's staying for dinner, so let's behave.)
"Yes, yes." His father muttered and gestured for Dominik's little brother to return inside with them.
You turned to Dominik, your only source of security in that moment.
"They like you." He smiled.
"Really?"
"Yes, let's head inside."
A sense of relief washed over you. You and Dominik were invited inside and were quickly ushered into the kitchen. It was obvious that Dominik missed his mother's cooking because he ate more than he does at home, and so did you. His mother was an excellent cook, offering delicious Hungarian dishes.
"Ugh, I think I'm going to explode." You said, having made it to the top of the staircase.
"Me too." Dominik groand. He carried your bags despite his swollen tummy, and for that, he deserved to be rewarded.
"What are you doing?"
You had gone to wrap your arms around his neck. However, Dominik flinched as you did. The first time, he has ever done such a thing.
"I...I just wanted to..." You were taken aback. A heavy lump clogging your throat.
"Baby." Dominik whispered. Why was he whispering? it wasn't late, his family were still downstairs watching TV. "Baby I'm sorry." He saw the hurt in your eyes. I didn't mean to...." There was nothing that could be said, the damage was already done.
"Nikki, is everything alright?"
There was movement at the bottom of the staircase, Dominik's mother, on her way up.
"Megmutattad vendégünknek a szobáját?" (Have you shown our guest her room?)
Dominik scratched the back of his neck. "No Anya, I was just about to."
"Rendben, szólj, ha kell neki valami." (Alright, you tell me if she needs anything.)
"Sure, mom, I will."
His mother gave you a friendly smile before returning downstairs. However, you were still in a bit of a shocked state to return it.
"I'll show you were you'll sleep." Dominik mumbled and made his way down the hall expecting you to follow him. You did, but only because you needed answers.
"Like I said, my parents are a little bit old school...." Dominik stop before a small room. You poked your head in to see that there was only one single sized bed.
"Um, what's this?"
Dominik sighed. "Y/N, let's not make a big deal of it. We're only staying for two nights."
"Yes, but..." You had no words. "You've got to be kidding me, though? We are sleeping together in the same room, right?"
No answer.
"Right, Dominik?"
He grabbed your bags and entered the room, placing them on the bed. You refused to move an inch, waiting for him to return. However, all he said was, "I'm sorry." And kissed your cheek before disappearing down the hall. You were left with more questions than answers, the biggest one being, "What the fuck was wrong with your boyfriend?"
Part 1 Part 2
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jeanmoreauss · 2 days
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tell me about Merrick?
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@themundanemudperson @codename-adler
thank you guys for asking about him
as always quick little overview of Merrick Carew:
usually goes by Merr
he/him
25 years old
gay aspec, trans man
english major
played for the foxes for 5 years and attended on a scholarship
5’7, brown hair, hazel eyes, has tattoos under his top surgery scars (and other tattoos lol)
striker, plays pro for a team i will come up with a name for eventually
had an older sister
quick warning now that Merr touches on a variety of heavier topics cause yk he is a fox so yeah just be prepared for that
specific tws i can think of: substance abuse, suicide, domestic abuse, child abuse, COCSA (SA)
this got really long so it’s under the cut 😭
Merr was recruited to the foxes after his coach recommended him to Wymack. His coach had noticed a variety of signs that pointed to abuse at home and also signs of addiction. When his coach asked why he hadn’t applied to any colleges Merr admitted that he couldn’t afford it and that no one wanted to put up with his attitude since he wasn’t much of a team player.
When he was offered a full ride to PSU knowing their reputation and it meaning that they’d be the only school who would take him
Now for the reasons why he’s a fox:
Merrick grew up in a big house where he lived with his parents, his aunt and uncle, his older sister, and his 4 older cousins
He and his sister were close and pretty much attached at the hip and they got along with their cousins as well. Both his parents and aunt and uncle were neglectful and his uncle was abusive to both his aunt and his mom while his dad tended to look the other way. Because of this they were largely unsupervised and it landed on his sister to do a lot of the caretaking.
His dad was an alcoholic and his mom seemed to like pain pills a little too much so substances went largely unchecked in the home and Merr was even offered things like alcohol at a very young age which was the start of his own addiction. Merr didn’t love alcohol but he did learn to mimic his mother and developed a preference for pretty much any pills he could get his hands on.
As they got older his uncle’s abuse also turned onto his cousins and in turn their abuse turned on him (and his sister when she tried to intervene). One of Merr’s cousins started to sexually abuse him when they were 14 and he was 11 and it didn’t end until a few years later when his uncle was fired and they had to move to a different state for his new job.
Until that had happened Merr’s family had realized how dependent they were on his uncle and aunts income and they lost their house and ended up living in a variety of hotels. In this period of time both Merr’s and his parents addictions got really bad and his sister was put under a lot of stress working and trying to take of him and their parents. Eventually she started skipping school, she got rejected from all of the colleges she applied to (all out of state), and she ended up committing suicide on her 18th birthday when Merr was 14
After her death both of Merr’s parents decided to get clean, shocked by their daughter’s death and realizing they were so wrapped up in their own addictions that they hadn’t noticed anything going on with her. They both started going to rehab, group therapy, and locked down to full time jobs and got to the point where they could afford an apartment when Merr was 14. Merrick, on the other hand, got worse and became more dependent on any substance he could get his hands (even harder now that his parents were keeping a clean house). Because he had never had to worry about a lack of access to drugs before he started going through withdrawals and with it he started heavily lashing out. At his school he found ways to get high still but it wasn’t the same as what he had been getting before and he remained irritable. He snapped at people a lot including his parents which led to a lot of fighting which turned into verbal abuse
He started looking for excuses to be out of the house and decided to try out for his high school’s exy team and actually made it. He played all through high school, it forced him to keep up his grades, and well he still didn’t get clean but he had another outlet and a coach who was doing their best to look out for him.
When he moves to PSU he has no idea what he wants to do with his life, he’s focused on getting his next fix, and he’s so incredibly lonely.
Moving to college forces him to finally process his grief for his sister and he has a breakdown where he keeps trying to call her old, deactivated, number and begging to go home. His roommates end up calling Wymack who takes him to his apartment and he refuses to move back into the dorms for about two months after that. But that means he can’t hide his addiction and when confronted with that he agrees to finally actually talk to Bee. He makes it through his first semester at Palmetto and ends up checking himself into rehab over winter break.
He gets clean, relapses a few times, the summer of his sophomore year he ends checking himself into rehab again for the duration of it and ends up staying clean.
I guess he’s one of Wymack’s successes and he’s plenty fucked up and still feels like a mess trying to be a person most days but he considers Wymack and Abby and Bee and even some of his teammates family and knows he’s got them to fall back on.
When he goes pro the media ends up falling in love with him and he ends up adoring press duty for the positive attention and being surprisingly good at it with a little media training.
He’s not a huge advocate about addiction or mental health necessarily because he keeps his issues incredibly private but he’ll repost little infographics and he’s the always the first to like Jude’s posts about his struggles and leave a supportive comment.
This is getting really long so I’m gonna try and wrap it up now. Other than his addiction and his sisters death he doesn’t end up confronting his other trauma until he’s into his 20’s. After graduating he keeps Bee as his therapist and that’s where he starts unpacking everything that happened to him as a kid. He still has a lot to work on and heal from, a lot of it he’d rather pack up in a box and never address, but when the feelings on it get too big he’s learned a lot of healthier outlets over letting his frustrations get the best of him
And yeah idk if he ever makes court but I am toying with the idea of him and Jude getting together
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the-matildxe · 3 months
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there's something crazy about the idea that out of all the next gen kids, Gajeel's and Levy's would be the oldest. especially with the tease we got in the manga of Levy being pregnant. like imagine being a GaLe/Galevy/Gajevy kid and growing up around the guild. and also being the one to witness all the other next gen kids as babies. like that's so cute, the guild's first next gen baby from Gajeel and Levy. but i bet their kid can ACTUALLY sing lol.
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dykeinthedark · 1 month
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venting in tags about gender n shit (long as hell) (u can comment and talk 2 me as always :3)
#okay so i got a really masc haircut about a month ago and i know it's just a haircut but holy shit has it changed EVERYTHING for me#like.... i've always leaned masc except 1) before i came out 2) when i was actively in love with someone who i knew liked femmes#and they always described me as a fem. because that's what i showed her. because i wanted to be with her.#but lowkey whenever i'm in a not-impressing-anyone raw-dogging-life-no-crush era i always resort to a very masc style#like masc being my default and i'd only lean fem to impress people whether it's for love or peer pressure in a specific setting#like ''dressing up'' has always been a form of drag to me. like something i HAD to do to fit in or impress my parents (scott favor core)#but ever since this haircut i've realized... i could just BE masc innately like i really don't have to be womanly if i don't want to#which i usually don't. again i have only ever dressed fem for other people. but it's not even being masc that attracts me on its own#it's like. being masc in a distinctly lesbian way. as in whenever i look in the mirror i don't wanna be like a Guy i wanna be a dyke.#like lesbian as a gender identity too sort of thing honestly. okay i've been waffling but basically i sort of want to call myself butch#but i don't know if i like... can?? if i'm allowed to???#everyone always says it's MORE than just wearing boy clothes and not wearing makeup and having short hair (which i already do all those)#i mean i've always id'd as genderqueer because it literally just means gender weird and i experience gender in a queer way#what's probably the most telling is that my friends (all queer) CALL me a butch lesbian#like every time they do i feel really internally validated. it's not just my clothes but my personality too ig is what people tell me#i have a higher pitched voice relatively speaking but apparently the way i talk is quote ''very clockably into women''#which?? gender euphoria asf. my best friend specifically he (gay trans guy) always uses butch to describe me very intuitively#people have also noticed that i ''transitioned'' in all aspects except hormonally. like ppl have commented and noticed my masculinzation#but at the same time i always feel rly haunted by my ex relationships because one wanted me to be more masc#(she's the one who came out as straight and would treat me like a man) which i didn't like and i didn't like playing up being fem either#bc now it feels like she (butch) won't believe me if i called myself butch too bc she remembers me being femme#idk i feel like there's her voice in my head all the time that sees everything i do through her eyes (i'm lowkey still in love)#i feel like even though this comes so naturally to me i must be putting on a performance#even though i've actually read stone butch blues and done research into the history and i truly love and id with the culture like i rly do#that im still just a sad imitation of a butch lesbian and can never really be a part of it because i used to enjoy dressing up sometimes#like it's so stupid but can i still be butch if i wore a dress to prom and i think i looked good in it??#even though i was envious of my friends who wore suits?? that i used to try goth makeup?? that i liked long dresses??#that i enjoyed stacked necklaces and rings on every finger???#and tbh ALL OF THAT CAME FROM A CONCIOUS EFFORT TO FEMINIZE MYSELF IN JUNIOR YEAR OF HIGHSCHOOL WHEN I WAS 16#because omfg it was 2 months before junior prom and i was worried that i was too masc and wanted to get comfortable with being fem
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bananami · 5 months
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A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.
I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.
(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)
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"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Yeah Nanamin-"
"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.
"But Yuji calls you that!"
"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.
"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"
"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."
A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.
"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."
"That's not how that works."
"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.
"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.
"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."
Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"
"Itadori. Next question."
"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.
"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"
"She doesn't drink coffee."
"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."
"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."
"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"
"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."
"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"
"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."
Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."
"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.
"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"
"Yuji, that's too easy."
"Yellow."
"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"
"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."
Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"
"Shut up, Gojo."
"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."
"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"
"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."
He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.
Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"
Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"
Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."
Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"
"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"
"Of course you can."
"Can I stay over?"
"If you'd like to."
"Can I pick the movie we watch?"
"Don't push your luck."
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anxiousbabybird · 4 months
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Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!
Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙
Part 1
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Rafayel
Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him
Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came
Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn
Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)
Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism
Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.
Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day
Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.
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Xavier
Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.
He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night
His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants
Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.
Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming
Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.
Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair
The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.
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Zayne
He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that
Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk
Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.
Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.
Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way
Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.
He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.
#ThickDickClub
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@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle
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arminsumi · 5 months
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★ Satoru's undercut
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★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.
★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??
★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰
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"This will ruin my life..."
"It will not ruin your life."
"I'm gonna die!"
"You're not gonna die."
"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."
"They're not gonna cut your head off."
Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.
The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.
"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.
"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.
“I'm not!”
You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.
"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.
Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."
Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.
“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.
"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.
Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"
You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.
****
The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.
Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.
"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."
He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.
"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.
"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.
Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."
Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.
You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.
But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.
Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.
So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.
He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.
And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.
So, a good haircut was critical.
****
Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.
Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.
But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.
You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.
She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.
You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.
****
Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.
"What the—"
"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.
He immediately shut up and went red in the face.
"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.
She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.
"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.
You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.
Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.
You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.
Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.
Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;
"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.
"I'm not his—"
"She's not my—"
"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.
****
That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.
On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.
"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.
"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.
Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.
"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.
Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.
The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.
When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.
Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.
Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.
****
“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.
“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.
Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.
The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.
You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.
“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.
His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.
****
After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.
It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.
In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.
So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.
Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.
You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.
Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.
“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.
He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.
“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.
“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”
He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”
You looked confused. “Test it out?”
“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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yanderestarangel · 8 months
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HEADKANONS | JOHNNY CAGE MK1 WITH S/O
A/N: Yes, he's my favorite, please make requests for me with this man, I need ideas, I need requests- I'm obsessed for him. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post.
TW: sfw, smut, fluff, sex, sexual positions, afab reader, pet names, vaginal sex, oral m!re. | f!re |, degradation, daddykink.
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SFW:
Johnny Cage is the typical golden retriever boyfriend, he will want your attention because we know he is an attention slut, not only applies to his fans but also to you, you need to keep in mind that when Johnny wants your attention, He'll get it one way or another, whether it's sending you countless messages, asking you for affection, or even begging you to stay with him, if you're the type to get angry and punish him with silence, he'll be very upset. bad, even becoming physically ill.
He loves being emotionally pampered, a lot of cuddling with him with his head in your lap, while the two of you watch a movie together in the living room of his mansion, while you massage his scalp and the light brown locks of his silky hair, he would be happy. smiling like a fool in love - which he is - even if you pointed it out, he would deny it with some typical joke of his, if you threaten to leave his side or stop making out with him he will pout and complain, a lot.
He also likes tight arms just enjoying the silence between the two of you, chaste kisses on his forehead or cheek are welcome, especially if you wear lipstick or gloss, he will smile sideways and run his fingers through the warm residue on your lips on his skin.
Johnny likes to show you on all his social networks, always taking selfies with you and posting them, stories talking to his fans but always with you by his side, he loves sharing some couple story about the two of you so that everyone can laugh at such a situation that you passed by, like the time he got the location of the award show he was going to wrong and you had to walk a long way to get to the right place, with Johnny carrying you on his back obviously, he wasn't going to make his beautiful S/O walk. If you're the shy type, he'll push you a little, not because he's mean, but because he wants to show you to the world, show the person who makes Johnny Cage happy, but if you still don't want to, he'll respect your decision, Even if it upsets him a little at first, he will still take photos of you and the two of you together, with various filters, from the cute ones to the most cursed ones he finds.
The two of you have a YouTube and Twitch channel together, he already had a channel so now you are a regular guest, after all you date him. Johnny loves just chatting in chat, or reacting to some edits and fanarts that his fans make of him live, he always thanks everyone and is satisfied, from the most amateur to the most professional, everyone is valid and valuable from Cage's perspective , and he also loves the edits with the photo and video of you as a couple, with you and him thanking you for your affection, he leaves the @'s of the editors and designers, encouraging their growth. In the lives it also happens that Johnny plays some games with you, his favorite is the horror genre, he loves seeing your reactions because you feel tense around him and the chat, he sits on a black gaming chair in the center of the camera and you or in the background or on his side - it's your choice - he also gets scared very easily so you can take advantage and poke his shoulder or arm during a tense moment in the gameplay, he'll jump and scream from his chair like a scared kitten while letting out a series of swear words - he may or may not have let his glasses fall to the floor and break one of those times.
Johnny lets you wear his clothes, he's very stylish, if there's something you like, you can wear it, he has enough money to buy a new and identical piece, but obviously there are clothes that he's more zealous and jealous of, he He'll even let you use it if you tell him you'll be careful, if you tear it or get it dirty, he won't do anything other than sigh and get irritated for a few hours, then go buy a piece like the old one and pretend nothing happened.
He also loves that you make him breakfast, he loves his food, his seasoning, the smell of warm food makes Johnny wake up in bed with a satisfied smile, seeing you in his kitchen, preparing everything for him, that's it. it also made his ego rise, but in a good way after all he has you in his life and no Hollywood award compares to having you as his partner, he comes up behind you and while hugging you, giving you a kiss on the head and smelling you, even though he's drowsy, he wants to be there with you, watching you make his breakfast with such care - Cage also whispers in a hoarse and low voice how much he loves you, thanking you for being so helpful to him and that will reward you later however you want -
The two of you play 'just dance' together, Johnny knows practically all the choreographies and makes you dance with him, whether you're good or bad at dancing, what matters to him is that you just have fun with him, and he's great at dancing, knowing move the hips extremely well and being very elastic.
Johnny loves sending you memes, posts, songs, everything he sees and remembers about you he will send you immediately, Johnny is the type who has a gallery full of memes that he never sent because he forgot, he is the type who sends more than +99 reels in less than 10 minutes, so if you two have been chatting don't be surprised if you get distracted and have more than 60 videos in your dm, each with a caption and context from Cage:
"I remembered you."
"LMAO you that day (Y/N)"
"That song is the one you like, isn't it?"
"lol that's so me"
"That food looks delicious, can we make it later?"
"pookie wookie"
"This film appears a lot in my fy, let's see it this weekend"
"Am I bbg in this edit?"
He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.
He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.
The two of you have a typical mean girls night together, with skincare, hair moisturizing, movies together and gossiping together, Johnny doesn't mind if you want to try makeup on him, or paint his nails - as long as it's black and he's not in No acting roles at the moment - he accepts it willingly, and he even likes it when you do eyeliner on him - he looks even more handsome, believe me. -
Loves to pamper you materially! Johnny is the type that if he sees that you are looking too much at a certain product in a store, he will pull you and enter the place, calling the salesperson immediately and buying everything you want, and I guarantee you, he knows exactly when you want something. or when you're lying that you don't want to because you're embarrassed, if you lie and try to say that you didn't want to, Johnny will get serious and immediately take the most expensive products in the store for you, as a form of "punishment" for lying to him. He will be able to take you to the concert of your favorite band or singer when he is off work as a Hollywood star or he will hire the singer/band you want to do a private show at his mansion, nothing is too expensive or impossible for Johnny Cage.
He loves romantic nights with you. Johnny will put on a fancy suit, hire a good buffet for a candlelit dinner with you, something he does practically every weekend, it has become a couple's tradition in your relationship. A good dinner and expensive wine, to end the night with the lights of the Cage mansion partially turned off, with you and Johnny in the large marble area, the only light was from the moon that entered through the large video window, with the song: "You rock my world - Michael Jackson" playing in the background, on the speakers of the luxurious room, with the two of you pressed against each other, just singing while dancing intertwined in a heat of passion and love. - Johnny loves this song because he says it sums up what you did in his life, you rocked his world in a way that he can only thank you internally for being the love of his life, and being the person he can count on always, even though he is sometimes too arrogant and proud to admit it, he always says: "-This song sums up what I feel and have always felt about you honey." -It's his way of saying he loves you, when he can't say it directly.
He hates to show it, but he is extremely insecure, after the separation from his ex-wife - Cris - he always asks you if you still love him or if you will leave him one day, this insecurity causes some jealous attacks when you go out, doesn't it? nothing serious, just Johnny sulking and asking you why you're so different with him - which you weren't - just make this man sure of your relationship, holding his arm or hand when you go out helps a lot, with him smiling stupidly in the corner because you're proud to be dating him, after all who wouldn't be? he is Johnny Cage after all.
He's extremely intelligent, so he'll love rambling about everything about you, movies, art, history, everything. He will talk about several topics at the same time, while his head is in your lap.
NSFW:
Recorded sex: He carries that stupid phone of his 24 hours a day, that is, this also applies to sex, he will fuck you practically making a movie every time, recording in HD all your reactions and how you fit your body to his so well , moans, juices of lust, your face salivating with pleasure, the nicknames, the dirtiest things, all recorded and saved in a folder with a password on his cell phone. He uses the videos to masturbate when he is traveling to direct a film as a director, he becomes needy and needs you by his side, having to settle for the homemade porn videos that the two of you make together, your pussy jumping on his dick in the video, his body, his reactions, as he whimpered, fucking his own dick in his hand, writhing on the hotel bed he was in.
Sex on the phone: Well, when the porn videos you made, he will call you, begging you to masturbate on call with him, either just vocally, or on video call, or exchanging nudes while the two of you did it.
"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."
Daddykink: Self Explanatory, he loves being called daddy by you, he himself has a habit of calling himself daddy in random situations, with an arrogant air. "-Leave it to Daddy, Baby." "-Oh yes, Daddy Johnny is here to sort it out." And this applies to sex, he will fuck you while you call him Daddy or Daddy Johnny - he loves that shit, it boosts his ego like hell. -
Degradation and praise: He loves to praise you and degrade you at the same time, he also loves to be praised during sex, especially when you do the "missionary" position, while he looked at your face, fucking your pussy with greed and hunger.
"-Do you want to cum, my naughty little slut?"
"-You really want my seed to fill your pussy, don't you? You're such a dirty slut, wanting to be bred by me. You want to mark you as mine, don't you?"
"-You're nothing but a filthy whore, begging for my cock."
"-You're such a good boy/girl, taking my dick in that tight, pretty pussy, like the good slut you are."
His favorite sexual positions with you: 69, Doggy Style, Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl, Missionary, Scoop Me Up, The Seashell, The Pinball Wizard, Valedictorian, Table Top, The Lazy Man, The Snake, Stand and Deliver.
He also loves giving oral, he would really stay under your legs all day fucking you with his tongue if he could, in every corner of his mansion that he could, his tongue fucks you in the right spots, passing from your clitoris to the your entrance tight, his thick and firm hands keep you in place, holding the soft flesh of your hips, massaging the area in small circles with his thumb while looking into your eyes, while his mouth was too busy working for you. make you cum - maybe... Just maybe he rubs his nose on your clitoris to tease you, he has a big nose... Just maybe. -
Johnny likes blowjobs when he's angry, he likes to come home, have a good whiskey while sitting on the couch, and you between his legs, sucking him greedily, it was a relaxing sight, making Johnny remember the good things about life, you.
"-Yes fuck baby... Keep going... I really need to cum, you're my good boy/girl, sucking my dick so good."
Please squirt on this man! He loves to fuck you and make you squirt, whether with his dick, tongue, fingers or even vibrators - which you have to stimulate your pussy and his dick in some foreplay - Johnny just wants you to cum and get him all wet with your Sweet essence, the first time you squirted on him you were embarrassed, but he wasn't, he seemed to have discovered a new world, smiling like a fool.
"-Mmmm Johnny... I... Please take it off, I-" -You tried to speak between moans, while your pussy squeezed Johnny's cock more than ever, he felt something different, smiling sideways.
"-Fuck I bet that's a fucking squirt, come on, I want to see you squirt on my dick baby, this is going to be so fucking hot, just cum in that tight pussy." -Johnny says, thrusting his dick even more into your pussy, with all the strength and speed he could have in his hips at that moment, fucking you to the core, he gives a strong thrust, hitting his dick on your cervix, making you moan and squirt on his dick, abdomen and groin, dirtying him all over, while he smiled extremely happily.
"-I won't stop fucking you until you do it again baby." -He says smug with a cheesy wink, but he was serious, you were going to do that until he saw you squirt and cum like that again.
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jongseongsnudes · 1 month
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kiss me (part 2)
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bff!jake. 1.6k words. ✨️smut✨️ft. lee heeseung. (part one) (part three)
two weeks.
it had been two weeks since that night in his apartment that led to you and him crossing into the grey area.
the thought of that night stayed on your mind the whole time, your body immediately tensing up and growing hot every time you remembered how it played out. the way the man kissed you, held you, touched you all over. all night long.
it was like how you’ve always imagined it, only a hundred times better.
and you two haven’t stopped fucking since.
his bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, hell, even in the laundry room. you two fucked like rabbits, like your life depended on it. you just couldn’t believe it took this long, considering the so so so obvious sexual tension that was always there.
every chance he got, his hands would be on your body, holding you close to him, kissing you, filling you to the brim. just like right now.
“oh god jake- feels so good-”
“i know baby, i know,” he coos into your ear, his voice so deep, just like his cock that’s currently burried inside of you. his hands are gripped on your waist, holding you up as you bounced on his lap, inching closer and closer to both your highs.
if you had a choice, you probably wouldn’t opt for fucking in jake’s car of all places but desperate times called for desperate measures. in other words, jake sim was horny and you weren’t going to say no.
and that’s how you ended up riding the man for dear life in the carpark behind the bar you and him were supposed to have entered about twenty minutes ago... to meet your other friends.... that you had sort of forgotten about.
“you need help baby?” you hear him chuckle against your skin, his lips kissing down the side of your neck, “let me help you.”
the man immediately thrusts up as he says so, not even giving you the chance to respond. all you could do was whine at the feeling of him even deeper inside of you, his thickness almost breaking you in half. but you couldn’t care less, not when it feels this good.
you grip tighter onto his shoulders as the man pounds into you, your nails almost ripping his poor shirt, similar to your dress strap that was currently hanging on for dear life. thanks to jake’s rough hands earlier, even after you told him how much you loved the dress.
eye roll.
you begin to see stars when he hits at one specific angle, an angle he had perfected only after a week. it was like he knew everything about your body already. where to touch, where to kiss, where to suck. the man was a fast learner and you were more than thankful for that.
“jake...”
“what do you want baby, tell me. i’ll give it to you.”
“cum- i want to cum- please...”
the smirk on his lips tells you just how pleased he is with how whiny you are because of him. how pathetic and dishevelled you always looked when he’s fucking you, with hair so messy and with tears in your eyes.
that’s exactly what jake sim loved seeing. you a complete mess for him.
“because you asked so nicely...” his thrusts fastens almost immediately, causing your head to fall back as drool threatens to fall from the corners of your lips. you have no idea of what’s what anymore, you just know that you were going to have the best orgasm of your life. all thanks to jake sim.
moans and the sound of the rough love making continues to fill the man’s car as he works you towards your end, his thrusts gradually growing erratic. an indication that he was also almost there.
“j- fuck- jake-”
you almost faint at the violent rush that suddenly erupts inside of you, your juices coating the man’s dick just as he also cums. deep, deep inside of you.
with no energy left, you lay your head onto his shoulder, your arms now weakly clinging onto the material of his shirt. you could hear him laughing lowly beside you as he begins to pat your head, something you’ve always loved him doing.
“i’m so tired... and sore,” you lift your head up after a while to look at the man, who in turn was already staring at you with that goofy grin you’ve always been a sucker for, “you wanna just go back to mine?”
“can’t baby. i had plans to meet someone here tonight and she’s hot as fuck.”
“oh.”
yes, oh.
and back to reality you go, back to the fact that this was all you and jake were just best friends with benefits.
you and jake never actually discussed what this was but the man had casually mentioned a few times that he was comfortable with this. that he liked fucking around with his best friend.
and something in you wasn’t exactly happy with that but you couldn’t understand why.
“what’s wrong?” his voice knocks you out of your thoughts, his fingers drawing circles on your lower back, “want to go again beautiful?”
“narh, lets go in. the guys are probably wondering where we are.”
you get off his lap, and his dick, and back to the passenger side with some struggle, thanks to the man refusing to let your waist go. but you wanted to get in that bar as soon as possible. perhaps getting drunk could get your mind off this whole thing with jake for now.
after fixing yourselves, both you and jake head inside the crowded bar. his hand stayed on your lower back the entire time, keeping you close until you reached the private booth where heeseung, jay and sunghoon were. and your eyes immediately fall upon heeseung, who had dyed his hair a dirty blonde, a big change from the black you saw him with last time.
and hell did he look good with it.
“hi love,” heeseung says as he catches your gaze, the man reaching out to pull you towards him and away from jake, “what took you so long.”
he gives you a tight hug, his lips slightly brushing against the tip of your ear as he does. the smell of alcohol that immediately emits from him tells you perhaps hes had quite a bit to drink already.
as you settle against the very welcoming heeseung, you catch jake’s gaze, the man suddenly looking grim. but only for a split second before he excuses himself, to get his dick wet you assume.
sigh.
you spend the next two hours or so doing what you had planned to do, get drunk in order to get your mind off a certain someone. but of course, he was the only thing on your mind the drunker you got.
you can’t help but wonder about the man’s whereabouts. was he still in the club? was he and that chick already fucking in his car? replacing you?
ugh.
but why was that thought annoying you so much?
“it’s like you keep getting prettier,” heeseung says so nonchalantly, the man now staring blankly at your face as he twirls some of your hair with his fingers, “you literally take my breath away every time.”
“what do you want mr lee? why are you flattering me so much tonight?”
the man only chuckles at your accusation, his body casually leaning in closer until his lips are at your ear. you can feel his hot breath against your skin, the tingly sensation goes straight down your spine, right to your panties.
“you love, i want you.”
you’ve always known that sweet talk was one of lee heeseung’s specialties and they’ve never worked on you... but there was something about it tonight. just something about the way he had been acting is causing you to press your thighs tighter together, your palms even sweating.
as much as you didn’t want to use your friend, perhaps heeseung could be your distraction tonight. besides if jake was out there getting some action, you figured you could do the same.
right?
“do you want to head back to mine?” heeseung asks lowly, as if he had read your mind. you barely nod in return but that was enough to have the handsome man closing the gap between his lips and yours, kissing you deep and slowly. your hands are quickly in his hair while his are holding your body, deepening the kiss.
“hey hey- what the fuck,” a deep voice calls out as you are suddenly separated from heeseung, your body now pulled up and right into a very familiar body.
jake sim.
before you could even question him, he had pulled you through the crowd, taking you out to carpark despite your constant struggling and yelling. the man finally lets go of your wrist, only to push you up against his car, cornering you in with his much taller frame.
“what the hell is wrong with you sim!”
“what the hell is wrong with you! why were you and heeseung sucking each other’s faces?” jake is visibly angry, something you very rarely see from your usually chill best friend and you didn’t understand why, “are you going to just fuck all of your friends?”
you scoff at his words, your head unable to progress the audacity. even after disappearing with some chick for hours, he had the nerve to spit those words at you like you had done something wrong.
“and what jake? what if i want to fuck all of my friends?” you poke at his chest, knowing that it would only further push his buttons. just like you intended to do. “i can do whatever the hell i want. just like you.”
and as you had expected, the man only gets angrier to your sarcasm. the view of his clenched jaw and darkened eyes the pure evidence of that, his hands now moving to grab your arms but you push it away.
“cause it’s like what you said jake. we’re just friends right?”
to be continued.
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mirohlayo · 6 months
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THE ONLY ONE | LN4
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( lando and you are on a break because of an argument. but he needs you back. )
warning : angst, fluff, some jealousy, happy ending ofc
word count : 5.1k
note : the longest thing i have ever written with 5k words 😭 pretty proud of it, hope it's not too long lol
!! english not my first language !!
lando sighs as he watches for around the 30th time your instagram story. it was a picture of your outfit of the day, but the little detail - or big detail for him - was the unknown man standing next to you and his clothes matching with yours. lando can't help but rewatch again and again your story throughout all the day. of course, he loves your outfit. he thinks everything suits you, either an elegant dress or just a big hoodie. it was not the problem. but why the fuck your outfit matched with the one of an other man than him ? he just don't understand. usually, he would be and was the only one to match with your outfit. it was kind of your love language, and lando loves it. every time you asked him to wear the same clothes as you, he never refused the offer and even lend you one of his hoodie. it is something very special for him, so when he saw you doing this with an other man than him, he really didn't like it. actually, he hated it.
and the worse ? he is once again looking at your story, laying in your shared bed in his monaco apartment, clinging to your pillow. oh poor him. there is still the scent of you and your shampoo filled in the pillow you used to sleep on when you passed the nights with your loved one. he's holding onto it anytime he's missing you, which is basically every minutes. he smells your fragrance, finding so much comfort in it. and he would also imagines you next to him, cuddling his body and playing with his hair. but these are just memories now. it seems long time ago for him, when the last time you saw each other was actually around 3 weeks now. but it was not a good last time. completely the opposite. and he curses himself when he remembers what happened that day.
"fuck, who is this... thing ? guy ?" he says, throwing his phone over the blankets. for real, who was this man next to you ? have you already forget him and moved on ? but no, you guys are still together. theoretically. yes, the last time you talked to each other was during an argument, but when you left him all alone in his apartment, you didn't say you broke up with him. you just left, furious and mostly hurt. you were on a break. you didn't talk together since the argument, didn't send any text messages that you both would always send every hours because of how much you missed each other. 3 weeks without any contacts. but the thing you don't know is lando still looking at your social medias accounts everyday, missing you dearly. sometimes he hesitates, if he should like or not your stories.
every days, every hours, every minutes, every seconds are hurtful without you. he's still playing again and again in his head the last smile he captured of you. he is missing you so fucking bad. and the only person he can blame is himself. yes, he is the one to blame at. he was the one who started the argument and the one to say the most rude and hurtful words. and he feels so much guilty about it. he can't stand the fact he was the one who hurt and upset the most precious person to his eyes. everything is his fault. and now he thinks he's just a fool who don't deserve you. it pains so much his heart, and he's getting sick of it. he needs you again. he needs to see you again. he needs to kiss and hug you again.
he let a scream out, overthinking about the situation. he grabs his phone and opens the text app. he clicks on your name, and starts typing something. but what ? hello ? hi ? can we talk together ? no. he just can't send you some stupid messages and thinks everything will be perfect again like 3 weeks ago. what was he thinking ? he sighs longly and decides to take a shower to stop thinking about you. but he damn knows that's impossible because every single thing reminds him of you.
like taking showers. you would often showered with him because he loves showering together. washing your hair and hugging you to warm your freezing body meanwhile the cold water was turning hot. and then after you doing his haircare routine, styling his damp curls while he was just looking at you with adoration. or when you guys would spend your evenings together, cuddling close under a woolen plaid on the couch, watching a movie until one of you two would fall asleep. or when you cooked some recipes and it ended up in a food battle. god he's craving of those moments again. he really needs to do something...
-
race day. it is sunday today and of course lando have to race. he don't know it, but you are in the paddock club. yes, even if you're on a break in your relationship, you couldn't miss a race and decided to attend it. those last 3 weeks, you didn't miss a single one races. you didn't attend them, because you were still hurt by lando's words and you didn't want his fans to see you present there, so you just watched the races and your papaya driver on the tv. but you missed so much seeing him in reality, so you attend today's race. of course, you are wearing glasses and a cap to not be recognizable. and you're also sitting in a hidden corner.
lando has no clue that you are here, watching his car moving around. and you have no clue that he is thinking about you and the way he's going to apologize to you. so as the race passes, you keep an eye on his car. your heart and your being feels weird. the amount of love you have for him is still here, and it never shaded away for the past 3 weeks. not a single bit. but of course you are still upset and hurt. the words he said to you broke you into tears. you love him so much, never you loved someone like that. so when he told you those mean things, you felt weak. and very very sad.
in a blink, the race is already finished. fans wave at the drivers who are celebrating the podium with their race team. you smile, admiring the place. you would be lying if you said you didn't missed races. you were always happy to attend one. maybe for the race, or maybe just to spend more time with lando. by the way, he didn't finish on the podium but still get p4. and despite the fact you are still gloomy, you are proud of him, like usually. because he's just the best after all.
now you have to leave the track. of course, you would have love to stay and join your favorite driver, but he don't know you are here and you don't want him to see you. because nobody has already apologize. and it's been 3 weeks since you haven't seen and spoken to him. it would be awkwardly embarrassing. so you have to take precautions and be prudent to not be seen by any mclaren team member. you go down the balcony's stairs, lowering your head and hiding your face with the cap. of course it has to be an orange cap, because it is the only hat you have. an other way to be even more discreet, huh. but it works well. you are now in the paddock area, just in front of the mclaren one. you recognize a lot of engineers and people who work with your boyfriend and you hope deep inside you they don't see and recognize you. but it seems like you failed it.
"y/n ?" oh. oh... it's not just anyone. it's not just a random maclaren team member. no. it is him. it's his voice. his voice that you missed hearing. it's lando norris. you stop, and don't know what to do. and don't know how to react. so you stay like this, turning your back on him. "y/n ? is it you ?" you close your eyes and exhale, you're not really in the mood to talk to him. the only person you shouldn't meet is now facing you. you turn around and keep your head low, you don't have the force to look at him.
you just remove your glasses and put them in your pocket. "why are you here ?" he asks confused, but you can tell he's concerned about it. "to... support you, i guess ?". you finally give up and cross his gaze. and it aches your heart. he looks tired, i mean of course he just finished a 2 hours race but still he looks even tired than usually. his face is pale, doesn't have much color. and his eyes are so tiny, so many emotions in them. "oh ok. huhh thank you...". he answers awkwardly. you bite your lower lip, the atmosphere is, well, very awkward yes. "so, how are you?" you ask to get rid of this tension.
how he is ? fuck this question. he doesn't even want to answer. does he really need to say that he blames himself every day, that he can't sleep because of how much he cries thinking about you, that he skips dinners because of how bad he's feeling ? he never felt like that with any person. it is the first time his whole being aches that much. but he can't tell you that, he knows you will not forgive him that easily. "good. and you ?" he says, avoiding your gaze. "good too" you hum sotfly. he knows damn well that's a lie, because even your tone betrayed you. he tries to take a look at you. his heart squeezes in pain, the view in front of him is heartbreaking. you look as tired as him. and as pale as him too. where is the smile he loves so much gone ? the shining sparkles in your pretty eyes ?
he fights the urge to pull you in his arms. but he's the one at fault, he can only blame himself. "hum, i'll go now" "no." he answers back to back and you look at him confused and surprised. "i-i mean you're going back to monaco ?" he stutters. "no, i'll join a friend of mine" you says coldly. "oh... ok..." god he sounds so sad, it pains you. you struggles to not hug him. because yes, you're hurt, but you still love him like crazy. "well... oh and good job today" you quickly say and starts to leave, not wanting to stay more here. you don't turn back, but lando is now smiling softly, watching you fade away in the crowd. "thank you, love" he whisper to himself.
he sighs, blinking slowly. now memories are coming back, and he remembers what happened that night, when everything went wrong in only one second.
- -
you were very tired. a hard day of work. so when you came home, in your lover's apartment in monaco, all you wanted was to follow him around like a puppy and cuddle him. you were so clingy and so needy. it was rare, very very rare for you to be like that, all clingy and needy, so when that night you doubled it, it was kind of surprising and shocking. usually, lando loves when you get clingy, when you want him all for yourself. because it not happens often, so of course he cherishes these moments. but that night, it was different. he didn't like the way you acted with him. you kept following him around the apartment, touching him gently and innocently. like grabbing his hand, placing soft kisses on his cheeks, back hugs. you just wanted his attention. you just wanted your lover. but he didn't seems he felt the same about you. first, he didn't care much. he just didn't returned back your affection. but the more you were getting clingy, the more he was getting angry. he started to hate it.
you tried to kiss him on the lips and instead of kissing you back roughly, he turned his head and your lips pressed against his cheek. you paused for a second, confused. you frowned and tried to understand why he did that. why your lover didn't return back your hugs ? your kisses ? why he acted like you didn't even exist ? you placed your hand on his forearm but he shifted. your heart squeezed, why was he like this ? usually, he was the neediest one and the one getting even clingier. you were lost.
"baby, why you don't kiss me back ?" you asked softly. lando sighed and he seemed annoyed. he didn't even dare to reply. which hurt you. you moved and stopped before him. "something is wrong ? something bothers you ?" you tried to understand why he was in this mood, you wanted to help him talk about whatever bothered his thoughts. but you didn't expect to hear that. "yes, you." he hissed. your face deformed. did you hear well ? "w-what ?" you stuttered. "you. it's you. you fucking annoy me". you blinked and took some few steps back. your being hurt, your heart was broken. "what do you mean ?"
"you're so clingy and needy and i fucking hate it. stop being like that and stop touching me. you're so annoying" he threw these words at you, giving you a death look as his furrowed his brows. oh pain was real. you felt weak, you thought it was all a dream. but no, your lover was here, saying harsh words to you and kept hurting your poor little heart. and while you tried to understand his behavior - because he would never talk bad to you like that - a bulb lighted in your head.
it was qualifying. you remembered lando's week went bad and hard for him. bad practices, no luck, his slow car, his poor performance... nothing went right. and you knew how much f1 had an important impact on him and his mental health. he was so hard on himself and sometimes he would overthink about why he sucks at racing. this explains why he was acting like a shit with you. you knew it was that. he didn't want to do a bad race tomorrow. so instead of calm down and talk about it with you, he let out all his anger on you. it was like he took you as a punching ball and kept punching you, until you broke in pieces. you understand how he felt, racing is his job, he has to be the best. but let out his anger on your poor person even though you did nothing wrong, you couldn't take that. yes, he had the right to be angry and annoyed and whatever, but being harsh towards you won't make his performance better. so you tried to talk with him. or maybe argue with him.
"lando, please. i know you don't mean what you say." he stared at you and then walk closer to you. his gaze get through yours, and a storm appeared in it. "yes, i mean it y/n. you're getting on my nerves and i don't like that. maybe i don't like you too". wow. it was harsh. it was like getting stabbed again and again. he don't like you ? he really meant it ? now you were about to cry. tears filled your eyes, and you breathed harder to not let them run. and of course lando noticed it. "what, really ? are you going to cry ? you're the one who started it all and you think you can cry ? gosh you're so pathetic y/n". you shook your head and looked away because you knew soon your tears will drop. was he saying bullshit now ? "oh, you're really crying" he made fun of you and your statement. but you couldn't stand here and just cry. you had to speak up, to explain how you felt and explain that letting out his anger on you was not the solution. "please lando stop. i know it's because of racing that you're acting like that. you can be upset and annoyed but it can't justify the fact you burst your emotions on me. i did nothing wrong, i just want to help yo-" "it's not about racing !!!!" he yelled at you.
you almost jumped because of how much he scared you. he never yelled at you. never ever. he was so different from the lando you knew. lando was the perfect, caring, kindness boyfriend. who was so in love with you. not someone who yell and hurt you. "you can't even see it's you the problem. i don't need your shitty cuddles and hugs and everything. i never wanted you and i don't even need you. you sucks". "lando pleas-" "i wish i had never met you". and then he passed you to crawl on the couch, turning on the tv. he looked like he didn't even care about you anymore. your heart cried as your being hurt. the best thing that have ever came into your life just said he wish he had never met you. how hurtful it is. and you thought it was the race who made him angry like that, but it seemed like it's not the reason anymore. just him speaking maybe the truth and what he thinks about you. and you wished you were dreaming. but no, it was not.
you never had an argument with him. or when something was wrong, you would always talk about it. but it was so different. the person you loved the most broke you. pain, yeah, pain filled your body. it ached badly. you just wanted to leave. run far far away. so he couldn't hurt you anymore. "i'm leaving. i can't stay with you anymore so i'll go" "then go. get out of my apartment. i would be better off without you". it was one sentence too many. your tears ran down your cheeks, your face. you couldn't stop them. so you just leave, shutting the door behind you, as the one who broke you started to realize little by little what happened. and it was when guilt started to kick him.
-
"so fucking dumb you are" max says again, cursing at his friend's behavior towards you. "i know. don't remind me. i'm such an idiot" lando says again, cursing at himself. he is laying on his bed, re-watching your new instagram stories while max is sitting on the other side of the bed. "and for the fucking 40th time please stop looking at her stories. you've been doing this since this morning." max states, and try to grab his friend's phone who dodge it effortlessly. f1 driver reflexes yes. "then you stop sitting on this side of the bed. y/n's perfume will disappear because of you and your stinky scent". max rolls his eyes and finally stand up. "you're miserable".
lando sighs, and throws his phone over the blankets. "max help me... i'm so fucking lost without her." "but it's your own fault. you're the one to blame at". he shrugs and shake his head. "i know it's my fault max. don't you know i'm literally dying every single day because of how much i miss her ? that i'm crying because i will never find someone like her ? i'm in a shitty situation and i don't feel well because she's not with me. look, i'm in a pitiful state even though we did not even broken. what will i be like if we break up for real ? i don't even want to imagine it because i already know it will be awful." he passes his hand in his hair, ruffling them. "i've never felt like that about any exes, anyone. it's the first time i suffer like this, i don't know what to do...". max looks at his friend and his gaze softens. he hates seeing his best friend suffer, he can't stand it. "lando i can help you. and i will help you. but you have to promise me that you-" "SHE TEXTED ME !!!" lando suddenly screams.
"what ??" max jumps on the bed and sit next to him. "MAX !! SHE SENT ME A MESSAGE" lando is going crazy, he is just shocked. he don't even realizes what happens, he thinks he's dreaming. his heart is beating faster now. but max sighs as he reads the text you just sent, a simple "i'm coming to pick up some things in the evening". it is more a negative message because it means you're not staying in your boyfriend's apartment, but still lando is relieved by this one text. "lando, she's not staying. she's coming to pick up things because she don't want to live with you" "but it's her first text since 3 weeks ago ! she thinks about me too!"
max shakes his head and closes his eyes because he's getting a headache. "mate you don't get it" he says. but his friend don't listen, he is too focused on his phone. because he knows he's going to see her girlfriend soon, and he knows it will be the moment to apologize, to show her how much he cares about her. "max, help me. give me advices please. i'm listening". and then the two would spend the whole afternoon together, the streamer giving advices to the driver. lando is prepared, he don't want to loose his chance.
and then someone knocks on the door. he knows it is you because it's now around 6pm. max left 30 minutes ago. so it means you two will be alone together. lando almost tumbles because he ran towards the door at the speed of his mclaren livery. he takes a breath and opens the door.
oh.
your pretty face. the first thing he saw. his heart squeezes at the sight of you. your eyes, scanning his face and his body while he does the same for you. he can't believes you're standing in from of him, even though he saw you last week on sunday. but he's feeling worried now. you look super tired. dark circles under your tired eyes, your cheekbones more visible. you are as terrible as him. nobody dare to talk, and you start to feel awkward. "can i enter or maybe i just stay here until tomorrow ?" you say. "o-oh yes, come..." he shifts and you walk inside the apartment. and a weird feeling seizes you. every rooms of the apartment holds a memory from you and your boyfriend. the kitchen where he would cooks your breakfast, the living room where you would play karaokes. you feel nostalgic. and remember these memories makes you want to stay, to forgive lando, to be back together like before. but you put yourself together and fight this urge. you came for your things, not for him. or maybe it was also your intention. "how are you ?" he asks cautiously. "good. what about you ?" you reply. "good too". no, lies. from both of you.
you make your way to the bedroom. the first thing you see is your pillow above lando's one, as is he was sleeping on it. and the fact is that he was truly sleeping on it, your scent lulled him every nights. you put your suitcase on the bed and open it, you don't want to waste time. but there is a problem. and it's a big one. you have to sleep with lando tonight. not maybe in the same bed, but still you have to pass the night in his, well your shared apartment. those past 3 weeks, you were hosting at one of your friend's house. when lando asked you to moved in with him, you sold your old apartment. that's why you had nowhere to go, and lando was so worried about it but you weren't aware of it of course.
but your friend's parents were passing through and decided to pay a visit to your friend's house. you didn't want to intrude, so instead of worrying your friend you said you will buy an hotel room. what a coincidence you are now in your boyfriend apartment, sweating because you are scared to ask him to stay. so waiting for the fateful moment, you keep packing up things. you can also feel lando staring at you and his intense look burns your cheeks. "do you need anything ? you want something to eat ?" he asks sudenly, and you can hear he's caring about you by his tone. "no i'm okay, thank you" you simply answer.
your heart start pounding faster, and you sweat even more. god why were you so shy and scared ? he is your boyfriend after all, why would he refuse ? you play nervously with your necklace, the one lando gave you for your first date. you never took it off since now. "are you... okay ?" your boyfriend gives you a concerned look, he noticed you stopped packing your clothes. you take a deep breath and move to face him. "hum... can i..." your words don't want to leave your mouth. "can i stay here ? does it bothers you if i sleep here tonight ? if so then it's okay i will fin-" "no stay please." he rushes back. you look at him surprised. "i-i mean it doesn't bother me at all. you can sleep here". you give him a small smile and a little thank you. he smiles back, but unlike you it is a big, happy smile. the exact smile you love seeing from him. "huh, you can sleep on the bed, i'll go with the couch". he adds and you just nod.
lando just keep staring at you. of course, it disturbs you because sometimes you are putting useless things in your suitcase. he takes advantage of it to admire you. your body's silhouette he loved hugging, your shiny and soft hair he loved styling, your presence and its hold on him. you truly are precious to him. he knows he can't live without you in his life, it's just impossible. he needs you. not tomorrow, not in the next few hours. no. he needs you now. right now. he just can't stand the fact you're right here and can't kiss him or push him on the bed to cuddle him. he approaches you, and gently grabs your hand. surprisingly, you don't remove it and he melts down in the touch. "y/n... please listen to me". you sigh longly and turn your face to cross his eyes. you are also tired of it. even if he hurts you so bad, you can't stay far away from him because you need him as he needs you. "i'm listening". he strokes the back of your hand and takes your chin in his fingers to lift up your head, forcing you to look at him.
"i'm so fucking sorry y/n. so so sorry. you have no idea how much i blame myself and i feel so guilty every day. i'm the worst boyfriend ever, i don't even deserve you. every single minutes i keep thinking about what i said that day and if i could i would go back in time. because i regret so much those hurtful and cruel words i said to you. and you have to believe me, i didn't meant not a single word. i can't stand the fact that i'm the one who hurt you when i said i would punch the person who would did it". you try to reply back but he's so into it now. "please let me finish. i love you. i'm so madly and deeply in love with you. if you ever ask me to bring down the stars and the moon for you i'll do it. i would do anything for you. i love you. i have never loved someone like that. even with my exes, i never felt like that before, i never wanted someone so bad than you. you're the only one for me. nobody can replace you y/n. you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and i'll never let anything and anyone taking you from me. i need you in my life and i want you in my life because i can't imagine it without you. when i said i would be better without you, i so fucking lay. it's completely the opposite, i'm nothing without you. i would do anything for you to forgive me. because you're the only one, and you'll always be the only one."
tears are now running down his cheeks. and yours too. gosh he just let everything out, he has never been so desperate over someone. you can't stand it anymore and hug him tightly. he melts down in your hug and squeezes you. oh he missed you so much. he hides his wet face in the crook of your neck and keeps crying like a baby. you rub his back slowly and place a soft kiss on his hair. "i love you too lando. i'm so in love with you and i also need you." you simply say, because you know he already knows you're infatuated with him. and you guys stayed like that for fifteen minutes, lando keeping his arms around you. he don't want to let you go. he's so afraid of it now. "let's go cuddle in the bed. or maybe you still hate it" you tease him gently. "no. please. cuddle me. be clingy and needy, i'm only asking for it. don't go away from me." you two crumble into the bed and put the blankets over your bodies. lando curls up against you, his grip tight on you that you can barely breathe. he hides once again his head in the crook of your neck and one of his hand slips under your shirt, stroking your back. you start playing with his curls, something he loves and craves very much.
"i love you so much my baby" he suddenly says. you smile and peck his side profile. "me too lan". he lift up his head and your looks cross. he can't help it and a silly smile takes place on his lips. and he leans in, kissing you softly, your warm lips against his. he missed kissing you, so he really struggles to pull back. "besides i was such a liar. i'm the most needy and clingy one." you laugh hard and kiss him once again. he returns back the kiss and traces his way to your neck, planting soft kisses on it. "no for real, i would literally die without your cuddles. and just without you actually". you giggle and, you spend the rest of the night together. showering together again, cooking together again, playing karaokes together again. and of course, he didn't slept on the couch. but in your warm embrace which he's sure he'll never leave.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 10 months
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♡ SKZ Members Who'd Love Sleeping On Your Belly ♡
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♡ All of the love to @skz-story-request-always-open for asking me to do this adorably fluffy request ♡
While I'm sure any of our OT8 cuties would love cuddling up to a soft belly, these are the four who I think would be in absolute heaven if you let them do it.
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♡ Felix ♡
You let him fall asleep on your belly once and he's refused to do anything else since. At this point, if you even joke about not letting him do it you'll break his heart
Seriously, you can offer him the fluffiest of pillows and he won't touch them because nothing's more comfy than dozing off on you with his favorite song or show in the background
It's never unexpected when he lays on you because he tends to come running at you full force with his arms open and his face lit up, making cute little noises that let you know it's time for cuddles
As much as he enjoys your softness, what really makes it special to him is the closeness and vulnerability he feels when he's curled up against you with your arm around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as sleep takes him
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♡ Bang Chan ♡
His reputation as someone who rarely sleeps is unshakable at this point, insomnia's basically a part of his lore, but he's out like a light the second his cheek meets your belly
Something that always gets him is when you come up beside him while he's working and stroke his cheek, letting him lean his head on you. As someone who's responsible for taking care of so many people, it's nice when it's his turn to be cared for
He can, will, and has fallen asleep in the sitting position because you're so comfy, and having you in his presence is incredibly peaceful for him, quieting the thoughts swirling around in his mind
Nothing's cuter than the look on his face when you wake him up enough to make it to the bed or couch where he can truly settle in, interlocking his body with yours so that you can't go anywhere
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♡ Binnie ♡
This man's obsession with sleeping on your belly is the precise reason why you wake up with random body aches some days
He doesn't care where you are, what you're doing, or what time of day it is. If he feels himself nodding off, he has to find a way to get you into any position necessary for him to get to it
Clearly, he's not particular about if you guys are bent sideways to make it happen but he does have preferences when it comes to what you wear. His favorite thing to see you in is a t-shirt because it means his hands get easier access to squishing your belly
There's nothing remotely sexual about his habit of slipping his hand under your shirt to play with your belly. It's relaxing for him. It also helps that you giggle when he does it a certain way. He could never get tired of that
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♡ Han ♡
He never gets a better night's rest than when he's using your belly as a pillow but going to sleep's rarely, if ever, what he had in mind when he first laid down
It's a good thing though because, with all of the energy he has, he can start to feel burnt out at times and he always knows he can come to you as a safe space to restore his energy since you don't really want anything from him other than, well, him
Even though it's technically your stomach he goes feral if anyone tries to peel him away from you. You're his baby and he's gonna cling to you for dear life for as long as he can
His belly might not be as soft as yours but he constantly insists that you lay on him too so that he can hold you and sing you to sleep, watching over you to make sure you sleep as peacefully as he does
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
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“..smile for me, daddy..”
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you take quite the liking to eren’s newest piece of jewelry!
oral sex (p + a eating), spit play, hair pulling, fingering, squirting, need I say more?
I’ve written this trope before but I’m doing it again because why not?! I can’t get it out of my head and I am pushing this agenda. (Also trying to ease back into writing because I’ve been bullshitting.)
* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•
“What you think, my man? How ya’ like it?”
“..yeah, this is the one, dude..definitely the one..”
stood before the counter at Schiaparelli Jewelers, brandishing a mirror in one hand as the the other casually stroked over his chin, Eren’s lips curled into that of quite the smirk; in turn, refracting off of the light..to say that he was satisfied with the result of his latest commission, would be a very gross understatement. Schiaparelli’s had become a staple in Miami's Design District. A multi-generational business with a reputation that preceded them. With infamy rivaled next to Johnny Dang. Having catered to celebrities and the city’s elite alike, they curated the most beautiful pieces with the utmost care. Thus, earning them millions and a recurring clientele. Among those were the Underground God himself and seasoned musical maestro, EJ the Don. Who had gotten everything from his first chain to the wedding ring he placed on his beloved (y/n)’s finger a year prior. VVS diamonds glistened from the bottom row of his already perfectly aligned teeth as he examined the new grill he had just acquired. A spur of the moment decision he’d made on impulse while you were away on another modeling trip. The custom mold wrapped his entire bottom and encapsulated his canines with red stones. It was absolutely beautiful and although the piece had set him back roughly fifteen thousand, it was well worth it and deserved in his opinion! Having just been nominated for two writing awards and a third for album of the year. Awards season was approaching and although it wasn’t among his priorities to attend, it was still a feat worth celebrating. Not to mention, it was quite the confidence boost as well. He wasn’t one to base his self worth in extravagant jewelry or expensive clothes, but he was certainly feeling quite good about himself in these. He loved the way they looked against his lips and how they complimented his teeth.
dapping up the jeweler, EJ thanked the man once more and proceeded to give him quite the hefty payment for his services..of course, self gratification wasn’t the only reason he had gone and copped this new piece for his collection. He was actually hoping to get a little something more out of the deal..
“That’s what I like to hear, my man! Listen, how do you think the missus will react? Think she’ll like ‘em?”
a question he was certain he’d find out the answer to as you had just shot him a text, saying that you’d made it home and of course..to hurry back to you! Not a moment too soon, in his opinion. He’d spent all week longing to see you again and what better way to greet you than with a surprise like this?
“..I guess we’ll find out soon enough..”
* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•
“Mmph…Rennnnn, baeee! Stop—oh my gosh…”
the words spilling out in a trail of whiny huffs being drawn forth from your mouth. Among many other lewd sounds leaving you at the moment. Just as he had expected, your reaction was one he could’ve spotted from a mile away..the second Eren made it back home through the door, (y/n) came rushing him as you leaped forth into his arms. It didn’t take long after spinning you around with an array of kisses for you to spot them..the faint glint from his mouth as you slowly pecked at it. It was when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged gently, did you reveal his little secret. He could tell immediately from the glare on your face, just what you thought of it. That was also apparent by your sudden shift in demeanor..going from subtle, flirtatious kissing to full blown, unadulterated lust. He had no interest in setting you to your feet or halting your advances, especially when you continued to swirl your tongue around his own and continue filling his head with compliments. From how sexy he looked with them and how badly you desired to wet them up! “Yeah? I’m glad you like them, baby.” That was to say the least. He wasn’t shocked in the slightest and once he heard your opinions, he no longer felt any reservations about his purchase! So fast forward, and the two of you moved your little party to the downstairs game room, where he’d often reside on his days off. You’d find yourself on the leather couch in the corner, legs spread to either side as he feasted at your center. Nearly seven days had passed since you’d seen one another in person and nearly ten since you’d had any physical touch so it was obvious what was on either of your minds. Inked up fingers laced around your throat in an effort to make certain your eyes never shifted from his. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but to glare down at him with tears and lust teeming at your waterline. A finger slid between your lips as your husband delicately flicked that tongue around your clit..and each time, he’d make certain to flash you a toothy grin. In which you’d catch those sparkling diamonds littering his mouth.
“You sure you want me to stop, baby? I mean..you were the one begging me to make you come in my mouth.” Prompting both of you to burst into laughter. He knew that it was only because you were so close to your peak. Apparent by the creamy secretions leaking down his chin and staining that silver. How he craved your essence, your flavor and the feeling of you dripping onto his tongue. How good it felt to hear your moans coagulating with the sounds of his loud slurping, erupting throughout the room. Those white toes resting atop his bare shoulder blades, curled up at the slightest brush of your little bud. “I-I..fuck, it just feels so good, baby. Please..keep going.” (Y/N) uttering with the heave of your chest, rising and falling at a rapid rate as you tried to control your breathing.
“That’s what I thought..now lay your pretty ass back and lemme take care of you..lemme eat this pussy. Missed you so bad..”
with that, he’d continue his ascent into your soaking cunt. Exploring every fold, crevice and every delectable part of his beautiful wife. It may have been his favorite pastime if he were being completely honest…eating you until he brought you to the brink of tears and ecstasy. There was something so satisfying about it. Especially with the euphoric feeling of those juices making contact with his mouthpiece. Your fingertips would run underneath his chin and stroke the side of his face as his own dug into the thick flesh of your thighs..kneading slowly and keeping you in place. “Fuck…you look so sexy. Shit..” tossing your head back and releasing another breathy giggle from the overstimulating pleasure. “..swear you gon’ make me come, daddy..right there.” Guiding him along with your hand and those loud whimpers. That sundress that wrapped your body was shuffled down to your tummy as it bunched up underneath your breasts. You’d alternate between them and those dark tresses of his, not entirely sure what to do with yourself as you were unraveling.
“Don’t tease me now, princess. I need all of that..please..”
only taking a breath momentarily to work a couple digits inside of that hole as it spasmed on the air. He knew you needed to be filled but for now, he wanted to continue his feast..in more ways than one. As he parted your legs even further and continued working those digits in and out, Eren tugged you towards him. The only time he’d become forceful, as to keep you restrained. Because whilst you were focusing on the gentle thrust of his fingers in your pussy, his tongue would snake south to your puckering hole. Where the tip prodded at it and he’d flick around until you were trembling. Pleasure only increased tenfold when you pinched at those sensitive nipples. You could barely contain yourself and it was only a matter of time before he’d be getting that sweet release. He’d squeeze at your plump asscheeks as he switched between your entrances. Lobbing each hole with a very generous amount of spit. Soft whimpers arose from your throat and even hitched but that wasn’t enough for him. He needed that body to fall apart within his grasp and to react only the way he could make it happen.
“Come on, gorgeous. Let me have it. You wanna come, don’t you?”
that toothy smirk appeared yet again along with a high pitched coo. It never fails to make you melt..with the nod of your head, you’d shake vehemently, just grasping at anything to feign off the swelling in the pit of your stomach. One that was only mere seconds from exploding.
“Aw, then let it out. Do what you said you would earlier..or you gon’ hold back on me?” Teasing as he continued to push up into your most sensitive spot. And it didn’t take long until you were exploding all over the couch and of course, those silver slugs lining your man’s mouth. “Fuck! Fuck!—“ “..thereeee we go!” (Y/N) released a shroud of juices that spilled onto the cushions and Eren let his tongue wag as he lapped up every single drop..those fingers sopping with your creaminess. Which he’d let you slurp off once you were able to compose yourself.
“Shit!..Kiss me..” whining as you tugged him up by his chain and into your grasp. Shoving that tongue back between his lips and tasting the remnants of yourself against those grills. Cupping his face between your palms, you’d pull away from each other to meet gazes once more. That’s when he’d smile for you once again and you’d swoon for him all over again.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to wear those more..like all the time.”
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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
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our secret moments.
ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers
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in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.
this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D
songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument
5.6k words
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your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.
vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.
you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.
high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.
he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.
but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.
“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”
both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.
your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.
your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.
lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.
your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.
okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.
“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.
“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“
“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.
“he is!” you protest, waving them off.
you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.
“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.
“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.
the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.
you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.
“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.
you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.
“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”
lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.
it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.
you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.
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youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday
user: are they together?
otheruser: mother?
landonorris: lost millions.
user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.
and 444 other comments
-
you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.
apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.
“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.
“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.
“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.
“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.
you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.
lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.
“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.
“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.
“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.
lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.
“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.
“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”
he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.
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youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)
landonorris: whoops?
user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?
user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.
user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?
yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.
otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW
and 567 other comments
-
“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.
“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.
you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.
none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.
you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.
you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.
“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.
“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.
“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.
you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.
“lando, why are you doing this?”
“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.
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youruser: dinner w bestie
user: lando took this. bet.
user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando
landonorris: how was dinner?
youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.
user4: a date if i ever saw one?
user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?
user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr
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-
the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.
your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.
“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.
“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.
“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.
“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.
“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.
“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.
“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.
you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.
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youruser: new heights n pretty lights
user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.
landonorris: i want that hat back btw
user6: she is the moment
user: mommy? huh who said that?
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lando.jpg: from the road
oscarpiastri: violation.
youruser: can u send me these. especially the one of oscar :)
user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?
user81: oscar 😭😭
maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?
user11: the wags are fighting omg
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your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.
nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.
lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.
you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.
so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.
that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.
it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.
but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.
no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.
cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.
“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.
“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.
“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“
“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.
“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.
great, now you are crying.
“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“
alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.
“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.
fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.
“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*
“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.
“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.
your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.
you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.
you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.
-
the flight home is quiet.
your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.
you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.
you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.
he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.
“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.
“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.
your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.
“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.
“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.
“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.
“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.
“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.
“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”
“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.
“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.
“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.
“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”
fuck.
-
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youruser: commotion for the dress?
yourfriendmia: *commotion*
user5: on my knees begging
user1: no lando like? divorce? 😟
mclaren: always good to see you! 🧡
yourfriendnancy: kicking my feet looking at this lord have mercy
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-
you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.
from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?
he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.
you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.
the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.
you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.
he says your name, and the world stops for a second.
“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.
you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.
“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.
“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.
you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.
someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.
you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.
dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.
plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.
“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.
“lead the way.”
he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.
“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.
“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.
“come home with me.”
you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.
you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.
-
the door slams softly behind you.
lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.
“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.
your breath hitches in your throat.
“neither can i.” you whisper.
“we can be more.”
“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.
“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.
“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.
“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.
lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“can i…?” lando mutters.
you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.
“of course you can.”
he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.
you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.
“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.
the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.
“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.
“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.
“say it.”
“fucking incredible.”
“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.
his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.
his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.
lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.
“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.
“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.
“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.
“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.
lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.
“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.
he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.
he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.
“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.
“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.
your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.
the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.
lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.
one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.
“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.
“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.
lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.
“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.
“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.
“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.
“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”
“oh?” he coos, mockingly.
“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.
“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”
the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.
lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.
“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.
“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.
“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.
he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.
“you sure?”
“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.
it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.
your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.
you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.
lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.
“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”
the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.
you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.
-
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queers-gambit · 7 months
Text
Tell Me Every Terrible Thing
[ part one of two ]
prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.
pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!Hightower!reader only description given: red hair
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 5.6k+
note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!
warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (brief female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).
part two: "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, And Let Me Love You Anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe
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"How angry do you think he'll be with me?"
You offered your best friend, The Realm's Delight, Crowned Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, a unamused, stale look. Sarcastically, you replied, "Oh, come now, Nyrie, why would your father be angry? It couldn't be because you rejected every suitor His Grace put before you, or even how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining. What father would be angry after that?"
She groaned, "I know, I know, you don't have to be so right all the bloody time. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, you saw what it was like," her head bowed and you knew the girl was truly overwhelmed by her 'job' picking a suitor.
"This was no easy feat to arrange, Princess," you spoke diplomatically, aware of the ship's crew dotting around the royal ship. "Our fathers went through much difficulty to ensure this tour's success, Princess, and I'd imagine neither will be thrilled by our early arrival."
"But it's just - "
"I know," you soothed with a knowing, sympathetic smile. Your arm extended around her, her head dropping to your shoulder for comfort. "In an ideal world, women would have a real say in their futures. Perhaps, that is what you're meant to do, Nyrie... Perhaps you're meant to break this wheel, give the other half of humanity a fighting chance against the men who have long suppressed us. Being heir is a monumental stereotype to shatter, but most women are not born into royalty and have nobody protecting or defending them."
She picked her head up to stare at you for a single moment, then nodded slowly, "That's a lot of pressure."
"Less if you pick a respectable man to help you lead," you advised softly, reaching to caress her cheek briefly. "You're to be Queen, Nyra, which means you need a King Consort that the common folk will respect, who will play his part in the courts to come. I know it's not ideal, my friend, but it's not meant to be - it's meant to be strategic." You paused, adding, "Similar to Ali marrying your father, yes? That was a strategic move on my father's end. Now it's up to you to chose your own match, to plot your own strategy."
"Who would you see me marry?"
"In truth? I'm unsure if anyone would fit the bill perfectly, so, I don't know who I could see you with. Definitely someone smart, though."
She only hummed, sighing deeply and making you frown. Before another word could be said, there came a distant screech that sounded all too familiar - though you refused to let it show that you knew this particular dragon's sound.
Nyra moved away from the ship's railing to stare longingly up into the sky, and about a minute later, without visible sight of any threat, Ser Criston Cole was shouting, "Take cover!"
And then, like a bird swooping to snatch a fish, a crimson dragon descended from the cover of clouds - seemingly materializing from nowhere. The large, long, slithery beast with wings knocked into the ship's main mast; jolting everyone on board enough to topple over.
You tried to stabilize the Princess, but you lost balance and dropped to your knees as Cole rushed to help Rhaenyra to her feet. When able, you looked to the sky; grinning to yourself as you recognized the retreating Blood Wyrm. Seeing the distinct form of Caraxes made you giddy with anticipation, however, that was short lived as you clocked Rhaenyra's gaze of awe and wonder.
It seems she was excited for her uncle's return, too. Though, it won't be till later that you learn the extent of her adoration.
Less than an hour later, the ship was docking and you escorted Princess Rhaenyra from aboard; her guards surrounding you both as you trekked to the Red Keep. "Just... Perhaps try to stay invisible," you advised your friend, arm-in-arm. "The King won't be pleased if you interrupt court, even just by being there. With luck, we won't be noticed."
She agreed softly, continuing on. She started fiddling with her necklace, the piece of Valyrian Steel jewelry that her uncle, Daemon, had gifted her years ago before Queen Aemma passed away. Your lover had told you the Princess was owed a piece of her Valyrian history, and since he could not gift a sword to a young lady, the necklace was chosen, crafted, and gifted.
When you returned to the Red Keep, it was just in time for court to be called to session and your friend was all too eager to join. "Nyra," you warned, hand in hers.
"It's all right," she assured, "come, it must be Daemon - "
"No, I should return to my chamber. Don't piss your father off too much," you warned her with a smirk, watching her grin in response, squeeze your hand, and then file into the Throne Room with the other members of court.
You retreated to your old room, sighing in relief when you discovered nothing was disturbed. "My Lady!" A voice gasped at the open door. You glanced over, smiling at Milah, your usual handmaiden, and opening your arms when she rushed forward. "You're not supposed to be back yet! Oh!" She tutted, looking you over. "I'll get your bed made and - "
"No, it's fine - "
"Nonsense, let me do this," she insisted, already busying around the room. "I was wondering why they were bringing things into the foyer - must be all the Princess' luggage, hmm?"
"Yeah," you sighed, helping her strip the bed and change the sheets. "It was strange," you admitted, "the men, I mean, and the way they all competed for her hand in marriage."
"Did you expect anything else?"
"I did not think they'd honestly kill one another. Though it was more so their pride than the Princess they fought over."
Milah smirked, "Sounds about right. Well, what of you? Anyone catch your eye?"
"Of course not," you sighed a little sadly.
"Still hung on the Prince, aren't you, my Lady?"
"Perhaps," you mused.
You spent the better part of an hour gossiping with Milah before she had to go grab a few things, but promised she'd send your belongings up as soon as possible. You thanked her, walked her out, assuring you were just going to get a bath or something, and just as you shut and locked your chamber door, gasped when a pair of hands seized your waist.
"Daemon!" You hissed when you saw the short, white locks of your surprise guest. "The bloody fuck is wrong with you?" You demanded, turning in his grip to shove your hands into his chest. "What're you doing here? Want to get us caught?"
"Three years," he grit, gathering you in his arms to heave upward and force your legs around his waist if you wanted to keep balance, "three fucking years I've been gone - away - missing you, do not deprive me a moment more."
"Someone will come looking," you whispered, caressing his face as your forehead met his. "And perhaps I want a moment to just look at you, 's been years," you breathed. "You cut your hair," you commented, running your hands through the short strands.
"I cut my hair," he agreed softly, just holding you close and tight.
"I like it... But I'll miss braiding it."
"I will, too," he admitted. He nuzzled closer, inhaling your neck sharply, boldly licking a flat tongue up your pulse point to make you shudder lightly.
"Daemon," you whispered, pulling his head back so you could look in his eyes, beaming, "I missed you, too."
"Viserys is arranging a lunch for my return," he informed, turning so he could approach your newly-made four-poster bed; dropping you flat on your back with a grin. "Which roughly translates into only allotting a few minutes to make up for lost time."
"We will have time later - "
"I overheard Viserys saying he and Otto intend to take evening tea with you regarding the Princess' return from tour," he eased, reaching to spread your legs, bunching your skirts. "But I will call upon you tomorrow? Yes? Officially?"
"If you insist," you teased, letting him finally descend to smash his lips against yours. In truth, you were used to his empty promises of 'calling on you officially' because of his marriage to Lady Royce, but it was his way of telling you without words that he wished it was you instead of Rhea.
Daemon groaned, melting into your form; breathing heavily. "I've missed you past words," he whispered, nuzzling your nose with his. "But for now, I just need a taste - "
"We don't have time - "
"We'll be fast. Tell me, love," he nipped your pouting lips, soothing his tongue over the puckered skin, "have you taken another in my absence?"
"Of course not," you hissed in offense.
"Good," he nodded, kissing you sweetly.
"Need I ask?"
"There were no concubines," he mused, "though, they were offered, I did not accept. So, we'll be quick - faster than quick," he promised, pawing at your undergarments and exposing your dampening cunt to his sight. "I'll take my time with you later, but for now, I need this," he all but seethed before diving tongue-first into your core.
His spit mixed with your arousal, creating a slippery mess.
"Shit," you hissed, grabbing his shorter hair as his tongue flattened to lap at your entrance, dripping in your essence. One of his hands held your thighs apart for his access, the other releasing his cock from the pair of breeches he wore. Daemon groaned at the taste of you, lapping wildly like a man starved, and stroking his bare cock in rhythm with his ministrations.
It truly took no time at all once he found your clit and sucked mercilessly, the hand holding your thighs now extended up to paw roughly at your tits. Alternating his tongue around your sloppy cunt added to your heightening pleasure, swirling his tongue as he bobbed and shook his head - making an absolute mess, and causing your climax to shatter your mind and soul.
Your legs twitched, spine curled, stomach contracted as your arms quivered from the rush of adrenaline; hand slapped over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum. You grabbed his hair so tightly, he groaned in mock pain; legs then contracting to a suffocating grip around his ears and head while Daemon met his own end, spending in his hand whilst milking you for all you had.
He panted with satisfaction when he pulled back, grinning at you in mischief when you released your hold on him. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, standing to his feet only to slither over top of you. "Like not a day's gone by, huh?" He whispered, kissing you messily, smearing your cum on your tongue; grinding his bare cock into your recovering core to make you shudder. "Take a moment, then get ready," he whispered. "I expect to see you at the celebrations... Wear that dress I got you for your fifth-and-twentieth nameday," he smirked, adding, "if you'd so please, my darling."
You chuckled, "You magically learned manners during the war?"
"Perhaps," he mused, pecking your lips again.
"Hey, Daemon?"
"What is it, my sweet one?" He asked, seeing the sincerity in your eyes and hearing the seriousness in your voice - something in his heart jumping.
"Would you tell me about it all later? The war, I mean? Would you tell me what you've endured?"
"I do not think it's a tale befitting a lady's ears."
"Please? I wish to know..."
"Then I will tell you," he promised, "but only if you wear that dress."
Your eyes rolled in humor as Daemon stood. You watched him wipe his cum on a spare rag, tossing it away, and after one last kiss, was leaving out of the secret passageway's door. Taking another moment, you finally stood on weak legs and unlocked the main door, preparing how you could for your day before Milah returned.
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After arriving at the luncheon, you made a beeline for your father, greeting him happily before explaining your surprise reappearance. He filled you in on that day's court, explaining that Prince Daemon was back; and you felt almost guilty for the way your skin was still set ablaze from your lover's earlier visit.
For all Otto's faults, he was still your father, and you felt guilty for sneaking around with Daemon behind his back. Your father ushered you off to mingle, insisting he was only there for the King; and no, he wasn't hungry. So, you parted ways with a chaste peck to your forehead; the feeling of his scratchy beard lingering on your guilt-riddled flesh.
"Sister, what a surprise!" Alicent happily distracted by greeting you with a bright grin. You adjusted course to approach the Queen, King, and newly-returned Prince. "Oh, what a lovely dress you've chosen," she complimented with ease, reaching for your hand. "You always do have the best eye for clothes, I feel as if need you to live in my wardrobe, tell me what to wear everyday."
"Thank you, Your Grace, I'd be honored," You smiled at her, holding her hand, looking to the others. "My King," you curtsied to Viserys, glancing at Daemon and bowing your head respectfully, "my Prince, how nice to see you, again. Welcome home."
"Thank you, my Lady," he smirked. "Might I welcome you home as well? I hear you've been gone from the Capital."
You hummed with a nod, "I was on tour with the Princess, my Prince. I've only arrived home today, as well - though not by dragonback."
He eyed you up and down, offering, "I must agree with the Queen, my Lady, that is a lovely dress you've chosen."
You pet the black material, smiling genuinely, "Thank you, my Prince. It's one of my favorites."
"I can see why, given how beautiful you look," he flirted, and from behind you and Alicent, you could hear your father scoff.
"Thank you," you whispered. "What conversation did I rudely interrupt before?"
"Oh, nothing of importance," Daemon told you, looking to his brother and your sister.
"Because we spoke of how Daemon, here, was always Mother's favorite," Viserys grinned. "Do you want to know, my Lady? About how much Mother adored Daemon?" He asked you, his little brother trying to drone over him - but Viserys was determined to tell you the examples he could think of regarding his brother's favoritism.
You giggled from both Viserys' stories and Daemon's evident embarrassment.
However, almost awkwardly, on Alicent's other side, Princess Rhaenyra approached the group and stood amongst you. You knew the King must be unhappy with his daughter, but did not voice any opinion since you were not the source of disappointment at the moment. Instead, you listened to the King's complimenting words to his brother; thinking it was interesting that Daemon was so egotistical and yet, flushed under his brother's praise. Princess Rhaenyra waited until a natural lull to tell Daemon, "Congratulations on your victory."
It was awkward as Viserys just glared at her, Rhaenyra's expression falling short. Daemon covered smoothly, "Thank you, Princess."
Trying to save the tension, your sweet sister offered, "Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."
Viserys nodded and whispered, "Oh, oh," mockingly. He asked his brother, "Would you like to see the tapestries?" But by the end, he broke character and laughed with his brother; the latter who whom you knew spat on trivial things - such as tapestries and such. Through their laughter, Viserys proclaimed to his wife, "He has no interest in such things!"
"But thank you for the offer, sister," you smiled at her, trying to reassure her when her husband laughed in her face. "The tapestries are very beautiful, you've chosen a grand place to display them. I saw them on my way here."
"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra jumped in, seemingly to Alicent's aid - something she'd not done in an age considering the tension between them. You just smiled politely, seeing the way Viserys dropped his grin when he looked at his daughter with distain while the rest of you looked away sheepishly.
"Then you should not deprive yourself."
Rhaenyra offered a pained, pursed smile, "I shall enjoy them alone."
You, Alicent, and Daemon all stared after Rhaenyra with varying degrees of pity as she walked away to sit solemnly by herself on a distant bench while Viserys went on about his and Daemon's youth; over Daemon being their mother's favorite. However, Alicent excused herself to follow the saddened Rhaenyra, perhaps to offer the Princess comfort in her father's anger. The King looked ready to protest, but instead just shook his head in disappointment.
Viserys turned you and Daemon away from the sight of the girls, showing off the Godswood in bloom; your father approaching you three stiffly. "Your Grace," he bowed to Viserys, then nodded in resepct, "my Prince. Daughter," he smiled, trying to instigate, "how was tour with Princess Rhaenyra?"
"Oh, as eventful as a Royal Tour can be," you smiled, deflecting, "though I must admit, while seemingly exciting at some parts, I'm sure it pales terribly in comparison to the Prince's adventures in the Stepstones." Viserys smirking broadly at your redirection. "I do wonder, what brought the war to an end? We've heard rumor, but surely the Prince might know for sure what brought the Triarchy down?"
"Surely," The King nodded, looking to Daemon expectedly.
The Rogue Prince smirked and readjusted his stance, deflecting, "Perhaps a conversation for later."
"Oh, come now, brother!"
"Your Grace," Otto interrupted, "I do apologize, but there are matters at hand that require your attention. The Tully's still - "
He sighed and waved your father off, "Yes, yes... Well," Viserys nodded, "I'll call upon you both later."
"Your Grace," you instantly curtsied.
"Your Grace," Daemon bowed right after. Viserys smiled and nodded back at you both, patted his brother's shoulder, turned, and when he walked away, Otto followed with a single look to you and Daemon.
"Daughter," he bid curtly - and you read between the lines. He really wanted to say, "Do not linger around the Prince."
When the King moved, his usual procession of advisors, guards, and entourage followed right after. You sighed as almost all of the Godswood cleared out, Daemon eyeing you as he readjusted his stance; subtly reaching out to pet your hand with his fingers.
"Daemon," you warned quietly.
"Nobody is watching us," he smirked. "You look beautiful, love. I'll have to buy you more dresses, you wear them so well."
"I cannot believe I will not see you tonight," you whispered with a pout.
"I will call on you tomorrow," he reminded.
You opened your mouth, but another voice answered. "Sister," Alicent called, you looking over and smiling innocently. You caught sight of Princess Rhaenyra glaring at her uncle, but didn't think much of it.
"I look forward to your tales from the Stepstones," you told him calmly, offering a curtesy.
He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back, "I look forward to any time spect together, my Lady."
You hummed in contentment before stepping away, instantly taking Alicent's arm when close enough. "What was that about? Daemon looks so smitten!" She whispered with a growing grin.
"He was being polite," you whispered back, "and simply being Daemon - you know how he is. He's got three years of mischief to make up for."
"I see," she giggled. "He's quite handsome with the short hair, isn't he? It suits him well."
"I have to agree," you gossiped. "I can see why the ladies of court have missed him so."
Your younger sister giggled, smiling at you, offering, "I've missed you greatly. Come... I wish to hear of your time away."
"Oh, sister, please, I've only just returned."
"But... Wouldn't you tell me before the King?" She whispered.
You paused, then nodded, "Got me there, sister-dearest."
"We'll take tea together," she decided, leading you around the Keep until she saw a familiar face she knew. "Talya, my sister and I wish to take tea in the gardens, please. Privately, of course, so do not announce it," she directed the handmaiden. "We'll be in the gazebo in the rose gardens, bring tea, sandwiches, and my sister's always loved those peach crumbles?"
"I know the dessert," she nodded, smiling at you. "Can I interest you, Your Grace, in anything specific?"
"No, but bring enough for us both. Come, sister."
You three parted ways, Alicent leading you to the gardens as promised. She dismissed anyone in the area, even telling her guards to wait at the front hedges to give you ideal privacy while deeper in the roses at the gazebo. While sitting, you exchanged gossip about what happened while you were away, Alicent happy to catch you up because she was happy to finally have a friend, even if it were a sister, back in her corner.
You were happy, too.
While you loved Rhaenyra, the tension between her and Ali made you feel in the middle despite both parties assuring you "you weren't". Nyra was a good friend, your best, even! But it was something about your sister that was calming and assuring. She was trustworthy to a fault, but she was still your strongest pillar.
As Talya dressed your table with tea, lemon water, sandwiches, fruits, and other foods (including the peach crumbles), you giggled at Ali's retelling of whatever failed proposals occurred this past season you were away. When alone, at last, Ali turned to you in her padded chair and asked, "Tell me in truth, how was the tour? Why did you return early?"
"In truth, sister, vying men made the Princess uncomfortable. She did not need the two months more, she knew she was unhappy with the men so far presented to her."
Alicent sighed, "So, who does she intend to marry?"
"Yes," a new voice agreed, you both jumping in shock and looking up to see Viserys approaching with your father behind him. "Who does my daughter intend to wed, Lady Hightower?"
"Your Grace," you uttered, both you and Alicent standing in respect to bow your heads.
"Please, please," he permitted you both to sit, taking the lone chair across the table as your father remained standing. "I only wish for the unfiltered truth. I know what is said, I know what is reported, I know..." He sighed, "I know what my daughter might say, but please, Lady Hightower, what is the truth of it?"
"The truth, Your Grace, is that Rhaenyra was overwhelmed. Perhaps it was too long for her that she eventually, I'm not sure, shut down? She did not care towards the end which men was presented, she was overwhelmed with the options and pace at which everything moved."
"Kings and Princes before her have done the same, many Queens and Princesses embarking on their tours to find proper suitors," Otto reminded. "Why was this different, my Lady?"
"Because she is the first," you reminded. "Never before has a woman been named heir - she holds a different responsibility. Perhaps having everything thrown at her was too much, she has to filter through lesser men that would be King Consort. Nobody stood out, she became discouraged, and honestly, Your Grace?" You spoke earnestly, "I think it just made her sad. She did not want to disappoint you by choosing a man not worthy of being her King, so, she would rather face your anger in coming home early."
Alicent frowned but nodded to herself.
Otto adverted his eyes.
Viserys looked dejected, but sighed, "I see... Thank you for your words, my Lady, truly, you've always been a trustworthy advisor to the Queen, Princess, and I."
"It's the least I can do, Your Grace, since you and Queen Aemma - you - you were so kind to me when Mother passed. And Rhaenyra - to both Alicent and I - she was a true friend. I am in debt to you, Your Grace, and whatever I can do, be it just a simple different perspective, I am happy to provide."
"Well," he considered, "in the spirit of your unfiltered perspective, who would you see Rhaenyra marry?"
You blinked in shock, "Oh, Your Grace, I-I am not qualified to say."
"You serve as my Master of Whispers, do you not?" He smirked. "Speak, please."
You sighed deeply. With a small gulp, you blinked twice, then admitted, "I do not think my opinion matters, but... It would make sense to marry her to Ser Laenor Velaryon, would it not? He's a warrior who survived the Stepstones, is of Valyrian stock and blood, rides the dragon, Seasmoke. He's kind, brave, true, unmarried, heir to Driftmark. I think when it comes to filling the position of King Consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon would make a fine candidate."
Apparently, this was all Viserys needed to hear.
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You could not sleep that night. You could not explain why, but something foul was in the air and prevented you from drifting off. So, you chose to browse your private library, select a literary favorite, and stroll the deadened halls of the Red Keep; reading by flickering torch light.
Good thing you were up and out, because one of your Little Birds chirped at you from the shadows. You looked around to see nobody in the hall, but another chirp directed your attention to a darkened alcove. "Hmm, oh, Kaela," you hummed, approaching her slowly and bending at the waist. "What is it, child?"
"I came as fast as I could."
"What's wrong?"
"I've seen something - something you'll want to know," she glanced up and down the hall, "but not anyone else."
"Come," you whispered, pushing her further back into the dark and sheltering yourselves safely. Once knelt before her, you asked the child, "All right. What is it you have seen, little one?"
"Do not get angry, my Lady..."
"I promise I won't," you spoke softly, confused - you never got angry at your Little Birds... Why start now?
"I-I saw... I saw the Prince Daemon and... Princess Rhaenyra."
You nodded slowly, asking quietly, "Where?"
"In the city, in a pleasure house."
You blinked, "And what were they doing?"
"What grown-ups do."
"I see. They were coupling?"
She shrugged, "No, just kissing, but it stopped fast. He left her there."
"He left her there? In the pleasure house?"
The little girl nodded. "The Prince looked sad... When the Princess tried to kiss him again, he pulled away... Then he left."
"Where did he go? After?"
She blinked, frowning, "My brother, Grenn, said he saw him at the pubs - but he was always on the move, very drunk. I came here right away."
"Good girl," you smiled, offering her whatever Gold Dragons from the pouch you usually kept on your person under your robe for times like this. "Where will you be tomorrow evening? I will bring you and Grenn supper."
She smiled, "We can meet you at the dock!"
"The dock?"
"He likes watching the boats."
"The docks, then. By the Fisherman's Pier?"
"No, Grenn like the Harper's Pier. They're not there around supper, they're still out at sea."
"Harper's Pier for supper," you agreed. "Go on."
The little girl looked around before scampering off down a different passageway and you stood from your knelt position with a stony look of tentative contemplation on your face. With a deep breath, you did the only thing you thought you could... You went to your father.
With a rapid knock at his chamber door, it took a moment or two before he was opening it - still dressed. "What is it, daughter?" He asked gruffly. "It's late, this should wait till morning."
"The castle is about to wake - "
"I know and I've much to attend to - "
"Father," you hissed, glancing up the hall.
He sighed and let you in, "What is it?"
"I carry scandalous news," you muttered, his door's lock echoing around you. "About the Princess Rhaenyra."
He turned to you sharply, you taking a step back in surprise. "You... Know?"
"About her sneaking around in a pleasure house?"
Otto frowned, "Do you know with who?"
You could not tell him, so you answered, "No, just that she was seen in disguise."
"Who told you this?"
"One of my Birdies."
"All right," he decided, nodding to himself, "thank you, daughter, for reporting this. I will... I will figure out what to say to the King."
"Should you say anything?"
"I'll figure it out - but now we both know."
You nodded, "So you knew before I came?"
"I was awoken an hour ago to hear this news."
You nodded slowly, "Then I will leave you to it."
"Thank you," he whispered, letting you peck his cheek in parting before slipping out of his chambers. With nothing left to do or anything else to say, you went back to your chambers as to limit your exposure to the castle's tenants.
The less that could say they saw you this night, the better.
Once safe in your chambers with a locked main door, you could do nothing else but (over)think, wishing to all the Seven Gods you didn't know what you knew. Information and knowledge was vital to maintain power, this is true, but it also made you dangerous - also a target. The more you knew, the bigger the target.
It was only a few hours after dawn when the secret passage doors to your chamber opened. You were braiding your hair, ignoring the man you knew to have the only balls to use that door - especially now.
"I've always wondered, if we had children, would they have white hair or waves of fire, like you? Perhaps something between?"
"Fuck off, Daemon."
"So, you've heard," he sighed deeply. "Won't you even look at me?"
"I can't stand the very thought of you right now, nor the actual sound, I'll lose my stomach if I have to look at you."
"Let me tell you the truth," he begged, "before I have to leave the Keep, let me tell you the truth. Let Viserys and everyone have their ideas and opinions, their lies and slander, but let me tell you!"
"Excuse me?" You asked, whirling around in your seat to glare at him fully. "Viserys banished you, again?"
"He did... Back to the Vale."
You scoffed, "Good... Your Lady wife awaits you."
"Viserys thinks I've sullied Rhaenyra's virtue. I do not need you thinking the same, so, please, let me tell you what happened - no matter how uncomfortable, please, let me tell you the truth."
"What difference does it make?"
"I can't have you thinking something more occurred. Was I tempted? Yes, but I refrained. Did I touch her? A little - but not how you think."
You sighed, shaking your head, "I don't care, you're returning to your wife in the Vale, and I will be rid of you. No matter for how long this time, you will be gone - "
"For a time, yes, but I intend to return for you."
"No, I think I'll let Father make me a match. I despised the North, it was too cold, so the handsome Cregan Stark is out. I don't mind Dorne, perhaps a Martel to marry? Or even a Tully of Riverrun?"
"Do not speak such atrocities to me."
"You're one to talk! Your niece, Daemon? The girl I consider my closest friend? You couldn't just find that whore you like and be satisfied with her? Couldn't wait a single day, could you? Huh? How fucking pathetic!"
"Perhaps you are not as close with Rhaenyra as you thought," he tisked, making you feel disarmed. He spent the next hour and a half explaining to you what happened the previous night, and despite your disgust, you just listened.
Knowledge was power.
"I will return," he sighed at the end, "and in that time, you can make your own decisions if you want me or not. But I will return and I will have you, if you will have me, and this foolishness will be behind us."
"I'll give you a single year. I will not wait for you longer than that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I can't stand that you've done this, but I will wait one single year for you to find a way out of your marriage and back to me. Any longer than that, and I will simply move on. I do not want to live my whole life in the Red Keep, and the truth of it is, I cannot live in the Princess' shadow any longer. One year, Daemon."
"One year," he nodded, stepping closer. "My love, please - "
"Do not assume to touch me. Not after you've touched her," you snapped, stepping away. "Get out, I need to be alone, you have been banished - you need to go, you cannot be seen here." Your eyes rolled, muttering, "Probably have to go collect your whore for this banishment, too."
"Not this time," he smirked, "this time, I leave with my promise that I will return for you, my sweet Lady Hightower."
"Fuck off, you perverted Prince Daemon," you sassed, watching him slip out the door; shutting you in an echoing silence. Your heart ripped itself apart, making you wonder what the fuck you had done to deserve getting caught in such a scandalous affair. But you knew, in your heart, you'd do anything for Daemon - the thought sickening your stomach as you pondered how far this would all go.
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