#WHO LOVES HER LITTLE BROTHER BUT IS ABOUT TO SMACK HER HUSBAND | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astraysimp · 6 months

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Hi besties! I’m back with more dad!skz Hannie edition! I hope y’all are ready, because Han and his twins are a handful and a half! I’ve really been enjoying writing dad!skz, maybe I’m having slight baby fever idk

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Summary: Yours and Han’s twins ( fraternal boy and girl) are a handful…..yet somehow Han may be the most to deal with.

⌦ .｡.:*♡ Warnings: Dad!Han, your twins are 1 year old, both twins have Han’s cheekies and boba eyes( it would be a crime if they didn’t), super fluffy, pouty Hannie, pet names, boy boy is a mumma’s boy and baby girl is a daddy’s girl, fem!reader

⌦ .｡.:*♡ Ji-Yeong is your energetic daddy’s girl, who is TOTALLY wrapped around her little finger

⌦ .｡.:*♡Ji-Seok is your more calm baby. He is definitely a mommy’s boy but does get in trouble with his sister. The older twin–even if it’s only by 2 minutes

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You had just gotten home from work, feeling tired and ready to settle down for the night with your babies and husband, Jisung. Parking your car in the driveway and locking the doors, you toed your shoes off, letting out a sigh. Expecting to hear laughing and giggles, you were met with silence. Confused, you made your way into the kitchen, seeing your husband asleep on the couch, two sleeping babies next to him.

But…..it was dinner time. Smiling to yourself, you leaned down placing kisses on their heads. “Sungie? Honey? Wake up, my love. It’s dinner time, we got two hungry babies to feed.” You whispered, seeing him shuffle, as your baby boy started waking up. Jisung, then, opened his eyes, looked around, still groggy. “Huh? What? Oh, hi my love. You’re home.” He sleepily smiled, pecking your lips. You smiled and carefully took Ji-Seok into your arms, feeling him nuzzle into your hold. “Hi my baby boy, did you miss mommy, hm?” You smiled, as he put his chubby hands on your cheeks, smushing his lips to yours. “Mommy gets a kiss,too? Waaaahh, my baby is too sweet.” You smiled, seeing Jisung get up, with Ji-Yeong in his arms. Turning to them, you smiled, kissing Ji-Yeong on her cheeks. “Oh my goodness! Is that my precious flower?!” You smiled, pressing more kisses to her and her brother’s faces as they giggled. Pouting, Jisung looked at you, his lower lip jetted out. “W-what about me? I was your baby first. Where’s dada’s kiss?” He whined, cheeks puffing up just like the twins’. Laughing, you kissed him all over his face, pressing multiple kisses to his lips. “Is that better,hm? My big baby.” You giggled, pinching his cheek, as he nodded.”Okay okay, I have three hungry babies to feed,” You smiled.

Once you and Jisung made it to the kitchen, you each sat the twins in their high chairs and fastened bibs around their necks. “Hmmm, are my babies hungry? Do my babies want to eat?” You smiled, as the twins smacked their hands against the trays of their highchairs and Jisung nodded. So, you grabbed each of their bottles, food and spoons, before sitting in front of them. Taking a spoonful of mashed sweet potatoes, you hold it out to Ji-Yeong, then repeating the same to Ji-Seok. “Aaahhhh, say ahhh. Mmmmm yummy.” You smiled, as they ate, their cheeks puffing up just like Jisung’s did. But, then you turned your head , where Jisung sat pouting. “Yah, Yeobo-ah. What’s wrong?why are you pouting and sulking and not helping me feed them?” He whined, crossing his arms, “I want to be fed too!” Jisung whined and your jaw dropped. “Yah! Aigoo! Sungie, they’re babies , you’re an adult. Why do I need to feed you too?” You groaned, resuming feeding the twins. “Because I was your baby first, yeobo! What about me?!” Rolling your eyes, you flicked his forehead, and grabbed his chopsticks. “Say ahhhh, my babies,” You smiled, feeding them sweet potatoes, before turning to feed Jisung a bite of his Japchae. Watching his cheeks puff up, you smiled as he chewed his food. “Mmm, thank you, darling.” he muttered, through a mouthful of food. You just rolled your eyes.

45 minutes of feeding three babies–yeah Jisung that includes you– you put the empty dishes in the dishwasher and picked up Ji-Seok. “Aigooo, my precious prince is getting so big. But, now it’s bath time, so you get all clean for bedtime.” You smiled, tickling his tummy. Jisung had Ji-Yeong in his arms, bouncing her as he kissed her cheeks. “Bath time for my babies. Sungie, that doesn’t include you.” You pointed at him, before kissing Ji-Yeong’s nose. “Wah! Why not?!” “Yah, what do you mean why not?! You’re an adult. I’m not bathing you!” You three back, walking to your upstairs bathroom. Following you up, Jisung whined,”But wwwwhhhyyyyyy? I want you to bathe meeeee,” He pouted. You sighed, running a bath for the babies, you undressed Ji-Seok and set him in as Jisung did the same with JI-Yeon. Bath time went as smoothly as it could with twins and a whiny Jisung. “Baby, I will do your skincare routine for you, that’s it. No bath, take it or leave it.” Yo untold him, as you washed the baby shampoo out of Ji-Seok’s hair. Nodding his head, Jisung smiled and giggled to the twins. “Wahhh, isn’t mommy so nice babies? Should we give her kissies?” He smiled, carefully picking both babies up (with a small groan) before they all pressed their lips on your face. Laughing, you returned their kisses, as you took Ji-Seok into your arms, drying with a towel and dressing him into pajamas.”Ooooh, thank you so much my babies. My sweet babies.”

You and Jisung made your way into the twins’ nursery, both babies in pajamas and ready for bed. Smiling, you carefully laid Ji-Seok in his crib, a stuffed quokka next to him–we know you did that, Jisung. Kissing his forehead you smiled, walking over to where Jisung has laying an already asleep Ji-yeong in her crib. You and Jisung kissed her forehead.”Sweet dreams, my angels.” You smiled, holding Jisung’s hand, as you made your way back to the bathroom; after you shut the nursery light off and closed the door. “Time to get my third baby ready for bed too huh?” You smiled, gently pushing him to sit on the closed toilet seat. He smiled and nodded,sliding his hands around your waist. “Yes, please, baby.Thank you,” he smiled, pecking your lips. Kissing him back, you smiled and slid a hairband on him. “Wah, so cute. My precious Sungie.” You pinched his cheeks as he laughed, his heart shaped smile appearing. “Ssttoopppp. You’re making me blush.” He pouted, cheeks turning red as you giggled. Washing his face off with facewash, you wiped his face with a toner pad. “ Why should I stop? My hubby is so cute and he gave me the cutest little munchkins.” You smiled, squishing his cheeks. Pulling you against him, he whined, “Jagiyaaaaaa, stopppp. I’m all blushy.” He smiled and rested his chin on your stomach to look up at you. “But, you’re so cute. Sooooooo cute, those big eyes and that cute nose and puffy cheeks. Gaahhh I just want to bite those cheeks!” You giggled, kissing his nose and cheeks, multiple times. Pouting, he stood up and pulled you into his chest. “Let’s go to bed, can’t handle your cuteness, anymore.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. So, you finished your night routines and brushed your teeth, ready to cuddle in bed.

Reaching your bedroom, Jisung flicked the lights on and made his way to his side of the bed. “Tuck me in, please?” He pouted at you, making grabby hands. Giggling, you nodded and walked over to his side, holding the blankets up.”Sure, jagi. Get in.” You smiled, as he climbed in and settled himself against the headboard. “Mmm, so warm. Thank you, darling. “ Nodding, you climbed into your side of the bed and slid into his side. Suddenly feeling sentimental, Jisung placed a kiss to the top of your head and squeezed you tighter to his side. “Hey, honey love?” He asked, looking down at you. You looked ar him , and soothingly rubbed a hand against his chest. “Yes, my dear?” You softly smiled, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Thank you.” He said, softly. “For what, Sungie?” You asked, watching him as he ran a hand through his hair before grabbing your hand and fiddling with your wedding ring. “Everything. For choosing me, loving me, saying yes to me, marrying me, giving me the twins. Just….thank you. I love you so much, and the twins. You three are my world, my everything.” He whispered, still messing with your ring. Smiling softly, you pulled him into a soft love filled kiss. “Oh Jisungie, my sweet hubby. I will always choose you, always have and always will. It’s always been you, for me. Thank you,too, for choosing and loving me. And for showing me what love is, whether it’s the love you show me or the love you show our angels.” You smiled, eyes welling up with tears. He,too, teared up and pulled you in for a tight, warm cuddle. “Yeobo…….my little honey bear…..we were meant to be together in every life in every universe.” He whispered, wiping your tears. “You’re my Sungie. I love you,” you whispered in his chest,a day of taking care of your babies(including Jisung) catching up to you and fell asleep. He smiled and turned the lights off, patting your hair. “And you’re my ynnie, forever and always.” Those were the last words he whispered, falling asleep,himself.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀Please don’t steal,repost or plagiarize my works. ASraySimp 2023˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

Tags| @jinnie-ret @binsito @channiesbakery

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids texts #lee know fluff #seungmin fluff #seungmin x reader #han jisung fluff #jeongin x reader #bang chan #changbin fluff #han jisung fake texts #han jisung x reader #skz han #han x reader #skz texts #skz imagines #han skz #skz jisung #dad!skz

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shelbyssins · 1 year

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HI 💕 I loved Home so much and I was wondering if I could request something?? I had this idea of Tommy x Reader where reader was like a one that got away situation with pre-war Tommy and she married someone else but her husband dies during the war but Tommy didn’t ever know that he just thought she was married.. so time passes and they meet again then you can choose the ending!! Happy or sad you can choose, I hope this makes sense English is not my first language lol!! And if this doesn’t inspire you that’s okay too but know I love your work and am excited to see what you write next!!!💕😇😇

Seasons Change, People Don't ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Language, a sprinkling of angst

Word Count: 6,880

A/N: So this past week or so has just been insanely busy for me and I was struggling to find time to finish this request but here it finally is! I wanted to make this a little more light hearted than my previous request and the idea of Tommy and reader's relationship changing through the seasons really stuck with me so I hope you enjoy! I will be posting some shorter form one shots this week with some different characters so watch out for those! As always, if you read this, let me know what you think! - Rosie x

June 1912

“Tommy!” Y/n shrieked as she bounded over to her friend in the stables. The summer sun was breaking through the thin cover of cloud that drifted over the fields today. Y/n watched as Tommy’s eyes met hers, a soft smile playing on his lips when he recognised her. Y/n pressed a kiss to Tommy’s cheek, smacking her lips louder than she needed to because she knew it wound him up. He made an exaggerated show of wiping the spot she’d kissed and Y/n punched him lightly in response, he laughed gently, feigning hurt as he rubbed his arm.

Tommy was reverently brushing his mare, a bay horse who’s coat gleamed like copper coins under his attention. Tommy was a quiet man, never really as raucous as his brothers could be, but he laughed a lot, those soft little chuckles that never failed to make Y/n blush whenever she pulled one out of him. Tommy was a middle child, but Y/n knew he acted every bit the eldest. Having been blessed with intelligence, his head would soon be burdened with the crown of the Shelby family. Though he did laugh a lot, Y/n could often see the strain he felt as the head of the family, so it was nice to see him relaxed and in his own world.

He was twenty two now, about a head taller than Y/n and she found him so frustratingly handsome. She watched as his solid muscles shifted beneath his crisp shirt with every movement over his mare’s back, all broad shoulders and quiet strength, it was no wonder he had every girl in Small Heath falling over themselves for the chance to go out with him, though he never seemed to care much. Despite the obvious physical attraction, Y/n’s favourite part of him was his bright blue eyes, shining like sapphires in the sun, like stormy seas in the shade. Y/n would like to pretend that she was better than all the other girls, far above so obviously throwing herself at Tommy; but it was hard to push down the magnificently huge crush she had on him when he gazed at her with those pools of blue.

Y/n had known Tommy ever since she could remember, her mother was best friends with his Aunt, Polly Gray, they were practically sisters, and as her father had abandoned them before she was even born, the Shelby family pitched in to help wherever needed. Then, when Y/n was twelve years old, her mother passed and she’d lived with Polly ever since. She knew full well that Tommy only ever deemed her like a sister, but that didn’t stop her dreaming that he’d one day notice her affections.

It didn’t help that Tommy always treated her like a child as well, chiding her when he’d seen her smoking for the first time, always referring to her and her friends as ‘the kids’. Y/n had hoped that now she was eighteen, Tommy might see her in a different light, might start treating her like an adult, but if anything he was even more overprotective.

Just recently he’d refused to let her sit with him and his older brother, Arthur, in the Garrison, telling her, “It’s not proper for young ladies to listen to conversation like ours, you don’t want to be around us when we’re drinking anyway,”. It was kind of humiliating, especially when Arthur had laughed that booming laugh right in her face, so she gave up that night and trailed home, feeling every bit the little girl Tommy thought she was.

“You know, Mark’s been hanging around me a lot recently,” Y/n began, hoping that Tommy might get jealous if she talked about another guy, “Ada says she thinks he likes me,”

Y/n got nothing more than a non committal grunt from Tommy, though his hands had stilled their work over his mare’s mane.

“She thinks he’s going to ask me to go to the Garrison’s jazz night this weekend. As his date,” She added the clarification at the end, searching Tommy’s face for absolutely any reaction.

Tommy obviously wasn’t going to bite, so Y/n decided to try a more direct approach, “You know, if you asked me to go with you instead of him, I’d say yes,”

For all the intelligence he apparently possessed, Tommy just looked at Y/n blankly, a puzzled eyebrow raised as he went back to grooming his horse.

“You know I don’t like jazz, Y/n,” Was all he said on the matter, and Y/n wondered if he really was that bad at picking up her hints or if he was ignoring her attempts at flirtation on purpose.

Y/n was beyond frustrated at the fact that Tommy just didn’t understand what she was trying to say, she had hoped distantly that maybe she had a head start on all the other girls who liked Tommy too; she knew him far better than they did after all. But maybe it was because they’d grown up together that Tommy couldn’t see her as a potential girlfriend, maybe she’d always be just a kid in his eyes. Maybe he had some misguided idea that he was protecting her feelings by pretending to be confused, because perhaps in reality he just wanted to reject her.

“Well maybe I’ll just say yes to Mark then,” Y/n snapped, all together fed up with trying to get her meaning across. She looked away from Tommy then, afraid that if he caught her eye that she’d start blushing.

Tommy didn’t look up at her statement, just scratched at his horse’s ear as he said a bored, “Ok,”

Y/n huffed, storming away in a barely contained stomping tantrum that would rival any fit Finn could throw. She felt utterly defeated as she walked away from Tommy, thoroughly embarrassed that she was a tiny bit jealous of a horse.

March 1913

The sun was warm today, the first hints of spring blooming to bask in its light. The grass, damp with morning dew, caressed Y/n’s bare legs just below her skirt as she walked through the meadow in search of Tommy. Y/n knew he would be out here somewhere, desperate to get the family’s horses out in the fields for some exercise after the previous week’s relentless storms had kept them locked in the stables.

As she climbed her way over a short hill, Y/n’s eyes finally set on Tommy, who was standing under the shade of a tree, smoke from his cigarette billowing out of his mouth. Y/n ambled over, the closer she got she took in more of his appearance. He was dressed only in an undershirt tucked into his trousers, his suspenders hung loose by his legs. Tommy’s hair, not gelled down for once, flopped over by his ears. Y/n swallowed thickly as she remembered that she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home.

“Hi, Tommy,” She said softly, not wanting to startle him out of whatever daydream he seemed to be in.

“Y/n,” He replied simply, blowing some smoke in her face by way of greeting.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she waved the cloud of smoke away, faking a cough as she did.

“You got another one of those for me?” She asked with a gesture towards his cigarette, putting on the sweet voice she always used when she wanted something from Tommy.

He wordlessly opened his packet and she took one gratefully, leaning forward when Tommy flicked his lighter. Tommy moved in close to light Y/n’s cigarette for her, she held her breath as he did, wanting to avoid accidentally breathing in his dizzying scent of fresh soap and a hint of whiskey. Y/n took a long drag of the cigarette, having smoked almost half of it in one go when she finally exhaled. Tommy quirked an eyebrow at her obvious craving for the nicotine but didn’t comment.

Y/n relaxed her shoulders a little as she felt the effects of the smoke calm her rushing blood slightly, sagging against the tree as she pulled at the last dregs of the cigarette. Her mind wandered back to the problem at hand when she flicked the butt away into the grass.

“To what do I owe the pleasure,” Tommy asked as he too finished his smoke.

Y/n sighed and looked off into the distance, her eyes finding two of the Shelby horses grazing at the far side of the field in the shade, “I think Mark is going to propose to me.”

She sighed out a breath and couldn’t stop the way her eyes immediately went to Tommy’s face, waiting for his reaction. Y/n had accepted months ago that Tommy wouldn't ever see her the way she wanted him to, so she shut the door on those feelings and kept them buried under Mark’s affections. But she couldn’t help but worry that the lock on her heart was too weak now that she spoke to Tommy about impending marriage, she was powerless to stop the small hope that Tommy might tell her to say no, knew she’d run right into his arms if he wanted her to.

“I’m not sure what light you think I’ll be able to shed on the matter,” Tommy responded, his bored voice grating on Y/n’s final nerve.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help,” She huffed, pushing away from the tree and smoothing her skirts with angry hands. She made to stomp off back across the field, like she always did when Tommy irritated her, but a warm hand circling the entirety of her wrist stopped her in her tracks.

“Alright, love, alright, stop your tantrum,” Tommy was barely concealing a laugh behind his hand, but Y/n could see the humour clearly in his twinkling eyes.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Y/n replied, articulating her scowl with a harsh shove into Tommy’s side, “I’m just… not sure I want to marry him, at least, not so soon,”

Tommy pushed his hair out of his eyes and seemed to consider for a moment, “Well, don’t you like him?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Of course I like him, he’s sweet - kind to me, you know... Has a good job,”

“Well there you go, if you like him, why can’t you marry him?” Tommy said, so matter of fact that Y/n might have thought he’d mulled this over before.

“That’s just the thing, Tom. I like him, sure. But I just described him like he’s a pet dog, not a potential husband,” Tommy snorts at that and Y/n can’t help the little giggle that escapes in response, “I just… I always thought I’d be madly in love with whoever I was to marry, I’m scared I’ll regret it if I say yes,”

“What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin.

“You’re right. I don’t want to end up alone the rest of my life, and it’s not like anyone else is lining up for the chance to propose to me,” Y/n cringed at how obvious she sounded as she glanced at Tommy, she hunted for any change in those expressive eyes but came back disappointed when there was nothing.

Tommy said nothing more, sensing that Y/n was deep in thought, so they stood there in comfortable silence as the sun climbed higher into the afternoon sky.

Y/n felt bereft at the way her life had turned out. She and Ada used to dream of their weddings like all little girls did. They would excitedly tell each other all the details, what kind of dress they would wear, the colour of the bouquet they would hold, even the flavour of the wedding cake. They would clasp their little hands together and wish their dreams would come true, but there was one dream little Y/n never told Ada. The dream that a handsome blue eyed man would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, he’d say she looked beautiful as he lifted her veil and they’d vow to belong to each other as long as they both lived.

Y/n's chest tightened sorrowfully as she felt that dream slipping through her fingers. No matter how tight she tried to hold onto it, she knew now that it would never come true.

“Come on,” Tommy spoke up, apparently done with the silence, “We can ride the horses back to the stables and I’ll see you home.”

Y/n felt pained by his words because they came from brotherly concern rather than the love she’d always wanted from him. He walked on ahead of her and Y/n closed her eyes, trying to find a way to barricade the door to her heart just a little more, so that maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much the next time Tommy smiled at her.

November 1913

Autumn came and went silently through the town of Small Heath. The residential area was completely taken up by dull houses and sooty factories, so Y/n always had to go searching for trees just beyond the cut if she wanted to see the change of the leaves before there weren’t any left. All that evidenced Autumn was a slight chill in the air and the constant heavy rain that deluged the narrow streets.

Y/n and Mark had married in that quiet Autumn a month ago in a small ceremony attended by only Mark’s family and the Shelbys, including Tommy. Life since then had been sweet, Y/n had to admit. Mark absolutely doted on her, hanging on her every whim to keep her happy, and Y/n found herself a little besotted with being Mrs Mark Johnson too, much to her surprise. At the wedding reception, Tommy had done nothing more than offer a muttered congratulations and brood in the corner alone for the rest of the night. But for once in her life, Y/n couldn’t find it within herself to actually care what Tommy was doing, thoroughly intent on enjoying a day that was all about her.

Winter then took Autumn’s place. Freezing air bit at bare faces, the town blanketed by a persistent cover of grey cloud. Y/n pulled her coat even tighter around herself as she made her way to the Garrison, praying that she’d find Tommy there since he’d been putting great effort into avoiding her recently. As she neared the place she hoped she’d find the second oldest Shelby, Y/n felt firmly resolute about her plan to talk to him, as she knew his stubbornness all too well. She knew that he’d let the silence between them stretch on until the end of time if she didn’t do something about it. So she steeled herself as she reached the heavy doors of the Garrison and walked inside.

She was immediately hit by the familiar smell of stale alcohol and tobacco permeating the air, barely containing a shudder as her senses tried to get used to the offending scent. Y/n quickly scanned the main area and didn’t find her target, so she walked over to Harry, the barkeep, and smiled at him as he finished wiping a glass.

“Hi, Harry. Is Tommy here?” She asked, hoping he’d at least caught sight of him today.

“He’s in there,” Harry replied, glancing over at the snug and nodding in that direction.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/n gave her best sweet smile as payment, feeling a little bad about not buying a drink.

She pulled open the door to the snug and felt triumphant as she finally laid eyes on Tommy. He didn’t even bother to try and conceal the heavy sigh he huffed when he made eye contact with her, strengthening Y/n’s resolve that she would confront him about his avoidance even further.

“Hello, Thomas,” Y/n opened the conversation, inviting herself to sit at the table with him.

Tommy immediately brought out his pack of cigarettes, lit one and hastily shoved it between his lips as if he was trying to stop himself from speaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, smoke flowing out of his mouth with every word.

Y/n was puzzled at the question, “Is this not a public place?” She asked her own question back but didn’t wait for a response, “I’ve been trying to meet with you for weeks now, Tommy, but you always had some convenient excuse to avoid me,”

Tommy kept his face even and calm, the only tell that he’d been found out being a minute twitch of his lip, “There’s always business to attend to these days, Y/n,” He offered his meagre reasoning, another hasty excuse to hopefully placate her.

“Business,” Y/n couldn’t help but scoff, “Tommy, we haven’t had a conversation as long as this one since my wedding!” She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s shoulders straightened at the mention of the wedding. Curious.

“Why have you really been avoiding me, Tom?” She asked, softening her voice a little in hopes that Tommy would be more liable to answer truthfully.

But just as he’d opened his mouth to speak, in waltzed Arthur, the very embodiment of awkward timing, barrelling in like a rearing stallion, voice booming as loud as gunfire. Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that rose to her lips as Arthur pressed a rough kiss to the top of her head.

“And how’s married life treating the new Mrs Johnson, eh?” Arthur articulated his thinly veiled innuendo with a suggestive wink.

“Just fine, thank you, Arthur,” Y/n replied with a smirk, quite enjoying the way Arthur’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, surprised that she’d actually played along.

“I bet there’ll be tiny little versions of you running around Small Heath in no time at all, eh, love?” He garbled around the cork of a whiskey bottle he’d pulled out with his teeth, pouring the amber liquid into his glass.

“Well, that might not actually be the case,” Y/n smiled a little sadly, watching as Tommy sat up a little straighter, quirking a confused brow as a means to ask her to explain.

“Mark has been looking at a property in the countryside, about an hour away from here. If nobody outbids us we’ll be moving come New Year,” Y/n looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting themselves into knots as she tried to avoid Tommy’s penetrating eyes.

Arthur hummed but didn’t say anything on the matter, and Y/n knew Tommy wasn’t going to offer anything new, recognising that the contemplative look on his face meant silence for the foreseeable. So she felt compelled to continue on explaining herself.

“With all this talk of war getting closer and closer to us, we really want to settle down and start a family sooner rather than later,” She rambled, feeling a little interrogated even though neither man had said anything yet.

As Y/n flicked her eyes over to Tommy apprehensively, she saw that his jaw was completely set and he was gripping his whiskey glass so tight that his knuckles were white and his fist was shaking a little.

Y/n looked at him quizzically, trying to make him meet her eyes by some sort of telepathy, but Tommy’s gaze remained firmly fixed on his alcohol. She couldn’t understand why he’d be angry with her about this, her move hadn’t come as a shock to anyone who actually spoke to her often; it had been on the cards pretty much as soon as they were married. Maybe it was because Tommy thought she’d be happier here, maybe it was because he didn’t like her husband; how was she to know if he rebuffed her every attempt at communication?

Silence continued on for a minute before Arthur, characteristically oblivious to the tension, piped up again, “Well! The countryside, eh? Sounds marvellous, love,”

Tommy raised his eyebrows, as if in disbelief, and shook his head, dragging on the last fragments of his cigarette. Y/n muttered a quiet thanks to Arthur as he stood, saying something about another bottle of whiskey from his private collection to celebrate. Her eyes followed Arthur’s slightly drunken gait as he made his way out of the snug.

“Thomas, why are you sulking at me?” She interrogated immediately as the door shut.

Tommy stamped out his cigarette in the ash try, “I’m not sulking,” he replied, frowning.

“Well, you’re doing an excellent impression,” Y/n countered, sighing when Tommy’s lips didn’t even attempt a smile, “I just don’t understand why you can’t even pretend to be happy for me at least,”

Tommy’s shoulders sagged at that and he finally lifted his head up to meet Y/n’s eyes, “Don’t get upset ok?” He began carefully, and just by his tone of voice, Y/n knew she absolutely was going to get upset, “I just didn’t think you’d marry so soon, especially after our conversation in spring, you said he was like a pet dog, not a husband. Now all of a sudden you’re moving away? I know you Y/n, you love our town, what if you hate it in the country?”

Y/n’s face flushed hot, she was utterly incensed that Tommy thought these things about her marriage and apparently just chose to never say a word about it, “Firstly, if I remember correctly about that conversation in spring, you offered me no actually helpful advice when I was obviously asking for it!” Y/n was careful not to shout, so her voice came out like a hiss, “Then you practically encouraged me to marry him! Now you want to act as if you’re the font of all knowledge when it comes to my marriage.”

Tommy bit his lip and scrubbed a rough hand over his face, the way he did when he was trying not to get angry, “I just can’t help but think that your decisions have been too hasty, Y/n,” he supplied, any sweetness in his voice long gone.

The words wounded Y/n deeper than anything he’d said to her before, she felt the tears pricking at her eyes as she tried not to show that she was upset. All she’d ever wanted was this married life with him, but now that she’d moved on and accepted that it was never going to happen, Tommy chose to criticise her every decision, blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had worked so hard to get over him.

“I could hardly wait for you forever, Tom,” Y/n whispered, suddenly feeling exhausted as all the memories of her relationship with Tommy flashed in front of her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel it was such a waste, pining after him for all that time. Such a waste to crave the affections of a man who didn’t pay enough attention to her to notice she was utterly in love with him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy finally said, looking away from Y/n’s tearful eyes.

“If you had such strong opinions on the choices I made, who I was going to marry, where I was going to live, maybe you should’ve voiced them while you still could’ve done something about it,” Y/n stood as soon as she finished her speech, walking towards the door when she was certain Tommy wasn’t going to speak again.

Tommy didn’t call after her when she left.

February 1917

The fire crackled distantly as Y/n stared blankly into the flames, amber light casting lonely shadows onto the walls of her cottage home. The room was near silent, but the thud of her heart in her ears was almost deafening.

She clutched a telegram in her trembling hands and didn't bother to fight her tears as she read it for the fourth or fifth time, hoping this time she might make sense of the words written there on the page. But she didn’t know whether she couldn’t understand the sentences or just couldn’t believe the words were true.

Before the war hit England in July 1914, Y/n and Mark had spent a wonderfully happy, albeit short, married life. A few months before Mark was shipped off to France like every other man fit to fight, he worked as a clerk in the postal office of their little village, while Y/n looked after their house. She tended the garden too and often found peace planting flowers and thinking up new arrangements. Mark would come home every evening and greet Y/n with a kiss on her cheek before they sat down to eat dinner. Life was peaceful and picture perfect, no fighting, no drunkards lining the streets, no constant threat of crime. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the chaos of Small Heath at least a little bit, but somewhere between their move to the country and Mark’s constant devotion, Y/n well and truly fell in love with him.

Now, as Y/n looked around her desolate sitting room, she realised she had absolutely nothing to prove that their love had ever happened. No matter how hard they had tried, God wouldn’t bless them with a child, and in the suffocating silence of this house, Y/n suddenly ached with longing to hear the patter of little feet running into her arms. At least she’d be comforted by the knowledge that a piece of their father resided still in this cottage, could look at their faces and still see his eyes looking back. But there was nothing, just utter loneliness.

Up until now, Y/n had grasped at any small shred of hope that Mark would return, ever since he left three years ago. She wrote to him every week, prayed for him every night, even though she wasn’t sure there was anyone listening anymore. She wished for his safe return and dreamed of the day he would warm their bed again. But now, there was no hope left in all the Earth that Y/n could beg for. There was no marriage, no husband to speak of as Y/n sat completely alone in this world, still clinging to that damned letter, her tears ruining the ink that spelled the end of her life.

Mark Johnson - Killed In Action.

July 1919

Y/n stepped off the train and took a heaving breath in as she tried to calm her nerves. Tendrils of anxiety curled around her chest as she carefully walked up the steps to leave the station, she knew she was only a short walk away from her home town and the odd need to run away was rising through her body.

Only the month prior, Y/n had sold her cottage in the countryside, finally accepting that nothing was keeping her tied to that place anymore, accepting that she couldn’t fit in without Mark. In the village, every corner she turned was a reminder of her husband, the route he used to walk to work, their favourite spot in the park, the station where she'd kissed him for the last time. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger nervously, she’d kept it on even after Mark's memorial service, it seemed a simple service she could do her husband to wear it, to remember him every day.

Y/n decided to rent a flat just down the road from where she’d grown up, and the familiarity of the streets comforted her as she entered her new home, dropping her few belongings in the hallway. It wasn’t much, but as a woman alone Y/n didn’t really see the point of buying a big house with no one else to keep her company. She sagged against the door, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get a whiskey, so she decided to leave the flat for a while and hoped that the Garrison would clear her head.

Almost as soon as she opened the door to the pub, Y/n could hear John’s familiar voice shouting over to someone at the bar and her eyes immediately landed on all of the Shelbys sat around a table, drinking various spirits and pints of ale. The relief she felt as she counted the boys and noted that they were all intact and alive was brief, she couldn't believe her bad luck that she had run into every Shelby the minute she set foot back in Small Heath. Y/n quickly scurried up to the bar, hopefully unnoticed by the family, deciding that she definitely wasn't having this reunion sober.

She had barely taken a sip of her whiskey when a voice called to her from across the room, "Well isn't this a sight for sore bloody eyes," Y/n heard Polly's familiar drawl and didn't need to look up from her glass to know all the attention was suddenly on her. Y/n gave up on the dainty sipping and knocked back the rest of her whiskey as the Shelbys began to descend like vultures to their prey. She focussed on the way the alcohol spread through her body, warming her and giving her that little bit more confidence as she gave a tight hug to her surrogate mother, "Hi, Pol," she said with a smile.

"Now what the 'ell are you doing back 'ere, love?" Arthur spoke as he nodded to the barkeep to refill your glass.

Y/n sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden questioning even though it was only Arthur who had asked anything, "You ok?" Polly whispered, squeezing her arm. Y/n nodded quickly and took another gulp of whiskey, "I wasn't counting on seeing you all so suddenly, I only got here half an hour ago!" She laughed nervously, "But now's as good a time as any to say I've moved back here. Surprise!" There was a chorus of congratulations and happy remarks, but there was only one person's face Y/n searched for, and she finally felt like she was home when she found Tommy's blue eyes.

He looked different, older definitely, but there was a cold harshness in his eyes that Y/n had never seen before. She shivered at what those eyes might have seen in France.

"It's good to have you back round here, Y/n," Tommy said lowly, and Y/n felt like everyone else in the room had faded away as she let Tommy's presence wash over her.

"Let's get a bottle to celebrate!" Arthur boomed, ruffling her hair like he did when she was a child, "Where's that husband of yours?" Y/n sucked in a sharp breath at the tactless question, fighting back tears as she tried to remember that it wasn't their fault if they didn't know Mark had passed.

"Probably at home looking after the kids, eh, Y/n?" John chimed in, nausea rising in Y/n's stomach as she tried to get a word in edgewise before someone said something they would regret.

"Nah, he's probably avoiding the pub, you know he can't handle his booze," Tommy was the one to pipe up that time and Y/n hated the cruel edge to his laugh, she'd hoped he'd grown up enough to get over his childish dislike of her husband.

"Tommy," Polly warned in that low, threatening voice of hers, picking up on Y/n's quickened breathing and tearful eyes. But Tommy carried on laughing, oblivious to his Aunt's insistence that they stop making fun, "You have to admit, he's always been a bit of a boring bastard," and there was the last straw. Before she'd even told her arm to move, Y/n's hand was flying at Tommy's face, slapping him right across the cheek so hard his head actually looked like it might detach from his neck. It happened so quickly Y/n wasn't quite sure if she had actually done it or not, but the boys had stopped laughing instantaneously, and the way Polly physically flinched told her she had genuinely just smacked Tommy Shelby. "How dare you," Y/n hissed before she could think better of it, her voice cold as steel, "My husband is dead, Thomas, have some fucking respect," The entire pub had gone silent, all staring intently at the scene unfolding, but wincing at Y/n's words, like they were watching a car accident happen right in front of them, too morbidly curious to look away. To his credit, John looked thoroughly ashamed of himself even though he hadn't said anything insulting and Arthur's eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, Y/n might have laughed had the cause been different. "Y/n, love, I'm sorry, we-" Arthur reached out as if to comfort her, but he cut off his sentence when Y/n flinched away from his touch, too overwhelmed to be crowded by him. She didn't know when she'd started to cry, but tears were flooding down her cheeks and pooling on the floorboards at her feet.

"Right. John, Arthur? Time to go," Polly insisted, ever the observant one, she knew that Tommy and Y/n had some talking to do. Neither man moved at first, but all it took was for Polly to level them with her menacing glare and they were hurrying out of the pub faster than a horse at full gallop.

Tommy and Y/n stood in silence for a moment, Y/n being too scared to speak because she desperately didn't want to acknowledge that she'd just slapped him.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," Tommy finally whispered, and his voice was so genuinely sincere that it broke the final shred of dignity that Y/n cared to hold onto, and she started to cry louder than she had even let herself cry at Mark's memorial. Tommy opened his arms and that was all the prompting Y/n needed to fall straight into his chest, she sniffled as he cradled her head against his steadily beating heart, he shushed her softly and held her tight, "Come on now, love, let's go in the other room yeah? We can talk away from all the prying eyes,"

Y/n allowed herself to be led into the snug, struck by how familiar it was even after all these years, Tommy lowered her carefully onto the couch, as if he was afraid she might fall over.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, Tommy," Y/n babbled as soon as her breathing evened out, "It's not your fault, you didn't know Mark was dead,"

Tommy rubbed his cheek and smiled lightly, "Don't apologise, I deserved it. You've got some power in that hand, you know? Not sure any man has ever hit me that hard," Y/n giggled despite herself, sniffing and wiping at her face to dry the tears.

"So how come you're moving back here?" Tommy asked as she sagged into the couch, he avoided asking about Mark's death, sensing that she'd talk about it in her own time.

"Everything back at the village just reminds me of him, I couldn't stand it. Every time I left the house I couldn't stop thinking about how I waved him off to France, to fucking war, and didn't know he was never coming back. So I just isolated myself, only left the house to buy food, never made any friends because I couldn't bring myself to walk around without him by myside, I couldn't walk around as if nothing had happened," Tommy just hummed, knowing there was more to say and just waiting for Y/n to go on, "So when I finally sold the house, I decided to make a new start somewhere I knew would be easy to fit in,"

"You were right, you know," Y/n laughed into the quiet of the room, "I really did miss it round here. I missed how unpredictable it was, the routine of the village was hard to get used to but..." She teared up all over again as her husband's smiling face flashed in her mind, "I really did love him,"

"I'm sorry," was all Tommy said as Y/n swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"I didn't think I'd fall in love with him so deeply. At the start, my main reason for marrying him was because I thought I had no other option," Y/n confessed, not entirely sure why she was spilling all of her secrets to the man she used to love.

"I always thought you liked him a lot either way," Tommy said, a confused edge to his tone, "You used to talk about him constantly,"

Y/n laughed a genuine laugh at that, reminded suddenly of herself at seventeen, "I only talked about him so much because I thought it would make you jealous,"

Tommy's head shot up at that, and Y/n was once again concerned about the structural integrity of his neck, "Jealous?" He reiterated, pausing the rolling of a new cigarette to stare at Y/n expectantly.

"Yeah, I used to hint at you all the time about my very massive crush on you. But for all the good your intelligence apparently does, you never got it. Or, you know, you were just trying to let me down gently,"

Tommy looked like he was about to choke, or possibly stop breathing all together, "Hold on, you liked me?"

Y/n rolled her eyes at Tommy, assuming he was overreacting on purpose, "I know, it's embarrassing Tommy, don't make fun of me. But yes, I didn't just like you. I loved you, Tommy, ever since I was eleven,"

"Oh my god," Tommy breathed, suddenly struggling to get his rolling paper to stick.

"What? There's no need to be dramatic, Thomas," Y/n said, voice snippy due to her slight mortification.

"I just... I liked you too, for years, but I thought you didn't have any feelings for me since you were going out with Mark,"

Y/n was sure her blood had turned cold in her veins, either that or someone must have dumped a bucket of ice over her head, "Are you serious right now? Tommy, you should've just told me! I was being so obvious with my hints and you just refused to see it!"

Tommy looked indignant as he gave up on rolling his cigarette, "Well, why didn't you just tell me!" Y/n couldn't deny that that was an excellent point, "Anyway, I was sure someone as beautiful as you couldn't possibly have feelings for someone like me,"

Y/n slumped in her seat, overwhelmed by the revelations, she smiled as she imagined how she would've reacted to this information when she was a teenager all those years ago.

"Oh, Tommy, you're an idiot!" Tommy started to laugh and Y/n couldn't help soon joining in, feeling weightless for the first time since the war. She gazed into Tommy's eyes again, searched for the same look they'd had when he was in his early twenties, even though she knew she wouldn't find it. He'd changed so much, they both had, but in that moment she wondered if they really could just be the same two kids who loved each other so much, couldn't help but wonder how their lives would've played out if they'd both had the courage to admit their feelings.

Y/n didn't know when it happened, but their faces were suddenly only a hair's width apart, she could feel his breath whispering over her mouth, he smelled sweet despite the tobacco that clung to him. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed out of instinct, her heart thudding as she let herself be intoxicated by Tommy's entire being. But just as their noses touched, she sprung away from Tommy like he'd burned her.

"I'm sorry, that was-"

"No, don't apologise," Y/n cut him off before he could start spiralling, "Tommy... I've loved you since the day I met you, and... I think I always will love you, no matter what happens, or what has happened. You mean the world to me," she stared at her hands, afraid of the vulnerability she felt as she laid her heart at Tommy's feet, "But you have to understand... I loved my husband too, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him, because I'm falling for you so fast all over again. I'd - I'd feel so guilty if I rushed into something with you when he loved me so much before he passed. I can't just forget him."

"I won't ask you to," Tommy replied, tentatively putting his warm hand on Y/n's knee, making her look up at him, "But I have loved you too, and I love you right now, and I'll love you tomorrow. I won't ever be able to forgive myself if I let you get away again, not now that I know you feel the same. I want to be with you, whenever you're ready. We can take it slow,"

Y/n was breathless, like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, she was completely consumed by thousands of thoughts running through her head all at once, "What does slow look like?" She whispered, entirely swept up by the ocean of love in Tommy's eyes.

"It starts like this," He murmured softly, taking Y/n by the hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles, "Then it might continue if you'll accompany me to dinner soon?"

"I'd like that Tommy," Y/n replied, a wave of relief flowing through her body, grateful that she could find love again at her own pace.

Tommy leaned in slowly and placed the most gentle and reverent kiss on Y/n's cheek, looking so deeply into her eyes that she thought he might be gazing directly at her soul, his voice was full of adoration as he said, "I promise I won't ever let you go,"

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #polly gray #arthur shelby #tommy shelby x reader fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader imagine #tommy shelby x reader oneshot

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shelbgrey · 11 months

Note

Prompt 1.7 the hearing aid one with Garrett from Twilight if you can! I'd love to see him with a mate that was born deaf and perhaps has a cochlear implant. Perhaps post what happens when she becomes a vampire and hears for the first time without the use of her implant. Please and thank you!

Voice of an Angel(Garrett)

Parring: Human!Cullen!Reader X Garrett

Summary: Garrett loves everything about you even if your deaf, he's always been fascinated about your cochlear implant and even learned sign language for you. But then he has no choice to turn you into a vampire after an accident, but on the bright side you hear for the first time.

Prompt: 1.7)“I'm not ignoring you. My hearing aid just doesn't like you”

A/n: for plot reasons we're just gonna say Garrett was invited to Edward's wedding and that's how you met then you'd be in astablish relationship by BD2

Twilight Master list

“It's really good to hear your voice saying my name, It sounds so sweet. Coming from the lips of an angel Hearing those words, it makes me weak” - lips of an Angel, Hinder

-------(3rd pov)-------

Bella and Edward's wedding ceremony went off without a hitch and now they're husband and wife. Y/n clapped for her little brother dispite the lonly and aching pain she felt, she wanted what Edward had.

During the reception y/n turned off her hearing aid, getting tired of all the noise that surrounded her. She was leaning against the wall away from everyone when her best friend Eleazar came up to her.

“you okay?” he asked, she didn't respond too stuck in her day dream. Eleazar nudged her, making her look his direction. She turned her hearing aid back on a smiled.

“you turned your hearing aid off again?” he asked. She shrugged. “I hate how loud it was getting”

“try listening to all this with vampire hearing” Eleazar joked.

As the friends talked something or someone cought her eyes. She looked over and saw a scruffy vampire joking with Emmett and Rosalie. She pointed towards the vampire. “hey El, who's that?”

His gold eyes shot to the direction she was pointing. “I don't know... Friend of Edward's maybe”

Garrett looked around as he was joking with Emmett, he tried to ignore the smell of humans everywhere as he had promised not kill anyone, but then one smell cought his attention, it wasn't an appetizing smell... It was a smell he was attracted to. He looked over and saw a woman, the prettiest one he's ever seen.

He couldn't explain the emotions he was feeling, but he knew one of them was jealously as she laughed with a guy he didn't know. He nudged Rosalie not taking his eyes off the girl.

“who's that over there...” he pointed at y/n. Rosalie smiled. “that's y/n.. She's the newest member of the family, she's kinda like our big sister”

“she's gorgeous” he mumbled and for a second he forgot about the advanced hearing him and Emmett possessed. Emmett smacked him upside of the head. “that's my sister... My human sister”

Garrett, not phased by the smak walked towrds y/n, completely ignoring Emmett's threats. As he silently walked towrds her he felt relieved as another woman whisked the guy she was talking to way.

“Hey, I'm Garrett” he said flashing his devishly handsome smirk. “you looked lonely”

“y-you mean board” I she chuckled. He smiled then looked at all the couples dancing. “would you care to dance?” he held out his hand, y/n didn't know why but she took the strangers hand.

“I'm y/n by the way”

“Garrett” he replied as he pulled her to the dance floor and flawlessly swayed around the room among the other couples his ruby eyes stared into her's like a love sick puppy. “can I ask you something?” he asked.

“Sure” part of her thought he'd ask about the hearing-aid, it's always the first thing people notice about her. But not him, the first thing he noticed was her eyes. But then he asked somthing cought her off guard.

“Do you believe in love at first sight -or should I walk by again?” he grined. She let out a chuckle and looked away as she unexpectedly blushed at the cheesey pick-up line.

“really? You've been spending too much time with Emmett it sounds like” she joked. Before he could awnser Jasper came up with smile but his eyes held fire.

“can I cut in?” He asked. Y/n gave her brother a weird look as Garrett released his hands from her.

“Sure”

“what was that about?” she asked putting her hands on his shoulders. Jasper just shrugged. “What, I can't dance with my sister?”

“you can but, Emmett and you both have been acting weird, so has Eleazar” I said as we danced to a more up-beat song.

She looked passed Jasper's shoulder and saw Garrett talking to Rosalie. He looked up and their eyes met. She immediately looked down when he flashed her a smirk.

The smiles, the pick up lines, it didn't go no where the rest of the night. It's not like he had the chance, her brothers and best friend wouldn't leave her side. It didn't go anywhere passed a dance, or so she thought.

After Bella and Edward left for their honeymoon people dispersed throughout the next two days. But one didn't leave, Garrett hit on her every chance he got and she didn't know why. She was sure it was just in his nature to do so, but it was annoying.

She always felt a little insecure about her hearing aid, she never thought a guy would find it attractive. She got over it thought and she wasn't ashamed of who she was, but then Garrett shows up and she starts to question everything.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

It was night three and Garrett still. Hadn't left, he used the excuse that he wanted to catch up with Emmett. He wasn't catching up with Emmett.

That night she sat on the roof of the house trying to get some peace and quiet, but she wouldn't be alone for long.

“Any chance you have an extra heart? Mine’s been stolen” Garrett smirked as he jumped on the roof and sat next to her.

“Garrett” she said simply.

“Yes?” he smiled.

“shut up” she smiled softly and shook her head.

He chuckled, she looked at him and she couldn't held but laugh with him. They talked into the night, important and useless stuff on both ends.

“can I ask you something?” he asked”

She nodded. “how did you get thing on your ear?”

She recoiled and moved her hair over it without relizing it. He grabed her hand gently stopping her. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you”

She shrugged. “I've had it as long as I could remember... I was one of Carlisle's patience before he took me in”

“I know thst look” he started as he read her body language. He could be all jokes but over the centuries he learned how to read people.

“I didn't realize it when we first met ya know? I noticed your eyes” he said. She looked into his red ones and saw nothing but the truth. Being around Edward for some long she learned how to read people too, just the human way.

“I think your beautiful” he admitted. She looked at him shocked at his boldness, but then she couldn't deny the connection between them. Without out thinking he leaned down and connected her lips to his could ones. He froze for a second, not expecting it but his brain quickly rewired and he pulled her closer.

~~~~~~~~(1st pov, present time)~~~~~~~~

The whole family was in shock when Renesmee was born, the little miracle quickly terned into a curse when Irina outed us to the vulturi.

We gathered many witness, even some of Garrett's old war buddies. The house was full of red eyes and being human thst wasn't so great. Garrett knew that too which is why he wouldn't leave my side for too long, and if he did Eleazar or carlisle would be with me, watching me like a couple of body guards. As much as he loved being around my brothers I think those two are the only ones he really trusted.

He especially didn't trust Vladimir, not because he thought he would drink me, but beacuse he saw the way Vladimir would look at me and flirt with me. He was nice and I was too head over heals about Garrett to realize the flirting.

After Garrett told me his concerns I started to notice Vladimir's flirting... Then it started to get annoying. Tody was one of those days.

Vladimir smirked and continued to flirt, you could tell it was getting on Garrett's last nerve. Vladimir then tunred to carlisle. “carlisle, do those little hand movements you and Garrett always do, she can't hear me”

I snorted “I'm not ignoring you, my hearing aid just doesn't like you” I said not taking my eyes off my book. “and it's sign language you Dracula want to be”

Garrett smirked as I snapped my book closed and left the living room. “that's my girl” he smirked and followed after me.

We got threw the week though and the kid was safe and so was the family. The witness said their good byes thought out the week and left for home. The Denalis were the last to stay, which was nice to just morn the death of Irina.

Sigh...

I don't know how it happened really, one second I was saying goodbye to my knew friend Benjamin and then the next I'm lying in the woods covered in my own blood... I couldn't hear a thing either.

~~~~~~~~(Garrett's pov)~~~~~~~~

I looked around the house feeling uneasy. Y/n hadn't been back yet and that was unsal for her.

“have you guys seen y/n?” I asked coming into the living room. The family looked up confused.

“somethings wrong” I mumbled. Some of them shrugged and said she usually disappears after a 'family emergency'

“maybe she got tired of you and left for Egypt with Benjamin” Emmett joked. I knew it was a joke but I was to nervous to think of a usual comeback.

Everyone chuckled but Eleazar looked at me just as worried. “your right... Somthings not right”

Alice dropped something and gasped. She looked panicked, I feared the worst. “it's y/n”

I didn't think twice and was out of the house in seconds with Carlisle and Eleazar behind me. We raced around the woods frantically. The deeper we got the stronger the smell of her blood was, I gasped feeling sick at how strong it was.

I stoped and saw her hearing aid. “over here!” I shouted. Eleazar was at the scene first. I jumped back aginst a tree at the sight of her... Blood never looked so sickening.

“Garrett she needs you right now” Eleazar said as his hands socked up the blood as he checked her womds

“I can't do it” I gasped. “changer her! Please before she dies”

I closed my eyes as Eleazar bit into her. I would be sobbing like a baby if I was human.

~~~~~~~~(1st pov)~~~~~~~~

When I opened my eyes everything seemed so clear. I could see the tiniest cracks in the wall and every single dust partical.

I heared birds chirping. I was so loud it was like the bird was on my shoulder yelling in my ear.

Wait..

I reached up and I didn't feel my hearing aid. I immediately sat up and looked around. My eyes stopped on Garrett. He looked so relived.

“are you okay?” he asked frantically. My eyes widened at how clear his voice sound, I could always sort of hear him but to hear him clear as day made me want to cry.

“say something eles” I said ignoring the question. He looked at me with a questioning look. “What?”

“say something! I can hear!” Garrett shot up immediately with suprise. “oh shit!”

He looked around with the biggest smile. “oh my god! I love you! This is great” he picked me up and spung me around.

“I love the sound of your voice” I chuckled. He pressed his lips to mine in a passionate kiss. “I love you” he said.

“love you too”

#Garrett x reader #Garrett imagines #Breaking dawn Garrett #lee pace #Cullen family x reader #garrett denali #Twilight Imagines #Vampires #Twilight x reader

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phoward89 · 1 month

Text

Based on this ask

Reader x Young!Plutarch Heavensbee, Reader is the daughter of President Coriolanus Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning in and of itself. Cursing, family secrets, mentions of death/murder, paranoia, um think that's it

You're the youngest of the 3 Snow siblings. The children of President Coriolanus Snow, a man as cold and beautiful as his name, and First Lady Livia Snow nee Cardew, a shrewd woman whose golden looks hide her abhorrent nature. Like your older brothers, Kronos and Leonidas, you grew up spoiled with wealth and riches in the presidential palace.

But unlike you, your older brothers couldn't stand your parents. It was so bad that once they graduated from the Academy they had opted to move out. Of course your father got your brothers, first Kronos and then a couple of years later Leonidas, their own penthouses in the best buildings that money could buy.

Only the best for the sons of President Snow.

If only Kronos and Leonidas lived up to the expectations of the Snow name.

Yea… Your brothers were both disappointments to your cold, stoic, stern, and calculating father. He felt that they're foolish, selfish, little bastards. Reincarnates of your mother. And talk about your mother, well, she felt that your brothers lacked social charm and grace- what was needed to succeed in the Capitol's games of politics.

You on the other hand was the apple of your father's eye. He viewed you as the one and only good thing to come out of his horrible, hate filled marriage with your mother.

It was no secret to you and your siblings that your parents couldn't stand each other. The only time President Snow and his First Lady are seen together is at events and galas. Other then that they're never together.

Not even at meals.

No, there's no such thing as family dinners in the presidential palace. Your mother eats by herself in her solar while your father eats in either his study, the large dining room, or the sunroom. More times than naught he's taking his meals in the sunroom.

You split your meals between them. Alternating who you eat with. But, since you're a total daddy's girl, you share more meals with your father than your mother. Which delites Coriolanus and pisses off Livia.

Coriolanus doesn't give a shit if Livia gets pissed. He's loathed her since the day he said I do. Livia disliked him, but didn't straight up hate him until a few months into the marriage. But being compared to his dear little dove; his heart's true desire, day in and day out, will make a wife despise her husband.

Truthfully, the only reason you and your older brothers were born was because your father needed heirs to carry on the mighty Snow name. Your mother had to pop some valiums and xanaxes to handle your father's dominant nature in bed. Hell, around the time your brother Leonidas was conceived your mother had taken a secret lover in the afternoons while your father was having power lunches at a high end gentlemen’s club, so who knows who your brother's daddy really is.

But, despite their horrible marriage, at least your parents love you.

Well, Coriolanus loves you, but truthfully it's up in the air when it comes to Livia. She's been hurt so badly by your father's callous words and actions that the poor thing is a shell of a woman that knows how to say lovely things, but is mostly just all about appearances.

And appearances is what prompts her to bring up a potential match with you and Seneca Crane despite the fact that you already have a boyfriend.

One Plutarch Heavensbee.

“But, mother, I've been seeing Plutarch since last year. Why would I dump him for Seneca Crane?” You asked, sipping on your breakfast tea while your mother nursed a bloody Mary.

Despite it being 7 in the morning, Livia's face was caked in 5 pounds of makeup. Makeup that covered up the bruises your father's hands left when he repeatedly smacked your mother around last night when she requested him not to see his beloved little dove because she knew that he'd be paying her a visit today.

But that didn't pertain to you.

“Because, Y/N, Senaca’s the heir to the Crane assets and hotel line in District 10, which is a very popular and prosperous vacation destination due to the Dude Ranch craze.” Your mother told you, putting her glass down only to pick up her smoking case. Opening it and pulling out a cigarillo, she said, “You'll be graduating from the Academy soon; it's time that you secure yourself a husband that's worthy of being a part of the First family.”

“I need to go have breakfast with dad, but thanks for the morning tea, mother.” You told your mother, setting down your teacup while she lit up her cigarillo.

While you rose from the table, your mother took a long drag of her smoke and told you in a tart tone, “He's your father, Y/N. I don't know why he lets you call him dad, but he shouldn't.”

You didn't say a word, just left your mother's private solar to go have breakfast with your father in the sunroom.

“Morning darling.” Your father greeted you with a smile while peeling the shell off his hard boiled egg. He looked perfectly regal, not a platinum hair out of place or a wrinkle in his crimson three piece suit.

As you made your way to your seat at the table, the President complimented you with, “Why, don't you look beautiful? I bet Plutarch’s going to be speechless when he comes to pick you up for school.”

“Dad, I'm wearing the same Academy uniform I do every day.” You shook your head, deflecting his comment.

“But you've done something different with your hair. That boy of yours is sure to notice that, darling.” You father said while fixing you a cup of coffee.

“I don't think it matters, dad. Mother wants me to end things with Plutarch.” You sighed as the president placed your cup of coffee in front of you.

Going back to his hard boiled egg, your father asked, “Why?”

“She wants to match me up with Seneca Crane; she thinks it'd be beneficial to my future to arrange an engagement between Seneca and I because he's the heir to the Crane hotel empire in 10.” You explained while grabbing a few things from the platters set up on the table and putting them on the white china plate that was laid out for you at your place setting.

“Do you want to end things with Plutarch for Seneca?” You dad asked in between eating a bite of his hard boiled egg.

“No, but mother-” You began, only for the president to hold his hand up and silence you with, “You stay with Plutarch and let me deal with your mother.” Reaching for his cup of coffee, your dad gave you the advice of, “Y/N, I know that you care about your mother and want to see the best in her, but you shouldn't. In fact, you need to keep her at arm's length; she can't be trusted.” sipping on his coffee, he sighed, “I’d hate to see you get hurt; I don't trust Livia not to hurt you.”

You gave your dad an incredulous look. Did he really think that your mother would intentionally hurt you? Why, what would she gain from it? You're her only daughter, she'd never hurt you. The thought alone is absurd.

Right now, you think your regal platinum father's a bit paranoid.

But unknown to you, he has reason to be. Everyone has a past and he never lets a piece of his lie. Once a week like clockwork he visits a part of his past with a bouquet of roses. That fact drives your mother up the wall mad. But the president believes that your mother crossed a line, one that was costly to him in the past.

So, your dad has valid reason to believe that your mother would hurt you, whether that be emotionally, physically, or mentally, to further her agenda and to cut him down.

When President Coriolanus Snow was a young man, serving as the Head Gamemaker and running for a Senate seat, he underestimated Livia Cardew's shrewd hatefulness and cunning ways. She didn't come across as somebody to blatantly destroy somebody who she felt got in her way or was a threat to what she wanted: money, power, glory, but she was.

President Coriolanus Snow is older, wiser, and even more paranoid than he was in his youth. These characteristics are the reason why he'll be in office until the day he dies from complications of his alchemy hobby. And he'll be damned if anything or anyone, especially your mother, hurts you while he's still alive and breathing.

After breakfast, you went upstairs to your room while your father went to talk to your mother. Since your mother's solar wasn't far from your room, you walked upstairs with your dad until you had to part ways.

After putting on your pristine white coat and double checking your hairbow in your mirror, you left your room. While passing your mother's solar, you heard the raised voices of your parents echoing from the other side of the door. You should've just walked away, but curiosity got the better of you and you decided to press your ear against the door to listen to what your parents were fighting about.

You hope that they weren't fighting over your relationship with Plutarch.

But, sadly, they are.

“Of course you support Y/N’s relationship with that spaz Plutarch. Considering your own past with your former campaign manager, I'm not surprised that you're encouraging our daughter to sow wild oats.”

“Do not bring Juniper up to me, Livia.” President Snow ordered in a loud roar. “You did it last night and got your face rearranged; you wouldn't want a reason to have to get another nose job, now would you.” President Snow threatened his wife, only to snap, “You stay away from my daughter. I won't let you hurt her.”

“You really think that I'd stoop so low as to hurt our daughter, Coriolanus?” Livia asked, her raspy smoker’s voice full of disbelief.

“I underestimated you 25 years ago when I ended our first engagement and it cost me dearly; I won't underestimate you ever again, wife. And I'll do everything in my power to protect Y/N from you.” The President answered, his baritone loud, but tight. As if he was trying to control his emotions. Emotions that were already filled with rage.

“You're so overprotective of her, but you don't give a shit about our sons! Why, Coriolanus? Why is that?”

“Y/N’s the one good thing to come out of this hateful farce of a marriage, but those boys are your sons through and through. Hateful, greedy, little demons- just like you.”

Livia Cardew tilted her head at her husband, only to twist her lips up in a sneer. “I hope you cut your damn fingers off while pruning those ugly white roses for a bouquet to bring your beloved Juniper.”

“You fucking bitch, I told you not to say her name in front of me.” The President roared, only to launch himself and his wife and backhand her so hard that she flew to the ground.

Hearing a loud thud inside of the room, you decided to back away from the door and rush downstairs. Plutarch should be arriving soon. And only God knows that you need to tell him about everything you overheard your parents fighting about.

As soon as you were in Plutarch's car, you unloaded on him. Plutarch, being a devoted boyfriend, listened to every word that you said. And when you were done, he simply asked, “Do you want to spy on your dad? See where he goes today?”

“Yea, but we can't. We have classes.” You told your boyfriend as he turned down a road that was in the opposite direction of the way to the Academy.

“I know a guy from 3 that can hack the school attendance records; have us marked as attending classes today.” Plutarch told you while grabbing his phone from his dash.

“How do you know somebody from 3?” You asked, a bit bewildered that your boyfriend has friends outside of the Capitol.

“Met him while on that student exchange trip to 3 to learn some tech stuff last year.”

“Oh.” You simply nodded. “I went to 2, stayed with the Plinths.”

“Of course your dad sent you there, he owns Plinth Munitions and is close to the Plinths.” Plutarch muttered under his breath.

Honestly, Plutarch couldn't stand your father. He thought that President Coriolanus Snow had a few screws loose. But, he pretended to like your dad for your sake.

“I can send my contact a quick text telling him to hack our attendance records, then double back to your place and park behind a bush so we can spy on your dad; see where he goes today.” Plutarch offered while pulling into the drive thru of a high end coffee shop.

“Okay.” You simply nodded.

It feels like you and Plutarch have been hiding out in his car, behind large shrubbery near the gate of the Presidential Palace’s driveway whenever it opens and your father's sleek black sedan rolls thru the gates.

“Plutarch, he's by himself.” You pointed out to your boyfriend, who’s waiting for your father to get far enough so that you won’t be caught following him.

“Wonder why. The President doesn't seem like someone to drive himself around.” Plutarch remarked while pulling away from the shrubbery and following the path your father did.

“I know, but maybe he doesn't want Bentley to know about his mistress.”

“Drivers don't care about whether or not their clients have mistresses, princess.” Plutarch told you while making the same turn he saw your father make. “He's driving himself for another reason.”

“Don't lose him, Pluto!” You ordered in a loud shriek, pointing at your dad’s car as it weaved in and out of traffic up ahead.

“Your dad drives worse than a blind 80 year old grandma from District 4. How the hell did he get a license?” Plutarch asked while doing some risky driving maneuvers in order to keep tailing the president.

“I dunno.” You shrugged. “Just don't lose him. I'm curious to know why my mother seems so jealous of this Juniper lady and why my dad flips his shit when my mother says her name.”

“Do you know anything about her?” Plutarch asked, watching your father cut somebody off before taking a turn.

“No.” You shook your head. “Just that she used to be my dad's campaign manager and that my parents were engaged twice.”

“Hmm…interesting…” Your strawberry blonde boyfriend hummed while turning down the road your father did.

After a few more minutes of driving, you ended up following your father to, of all places, the graveyard. “Are you sure he's meeting his girlfriend, Y/N?"

“That's what my mother said.” You told Plutarch, watching your father as he trudged along the graveyard until he reached the Snow Family mausoleum- which was a large building with roses crawling up and down it- in the back of the graveyard.

“Do you want to follow him? See if he's meeting her inside?” Plutarch asked, putting his car in park.

“Yea.” You nodded.

Since Plutarch parked far enough away from your father's car, you weren't afraid of getting caught. You and Plutarch carefully made your way to the Snow Family mausoleum. Not wanting to be caught, Plutarch has the two of you pressed against the back wall of the large building. There's a small stained glass window that you can peek into, if you want to.

You and Plutarch were expecting the President to meet with his secret lover inside of the building, but that's not what you saw when you looked into that stained glass window. To your shock, your father was removing old, dried up and withered white roses from the brass flower holder on one of the wall grave markers.

“I brought you and the little one fresh flowers, my darling rose.” You heard your father say as he placed the bouquet of fresh roses he brought into the brass vase welded onto the grave marker. “I wish you were here. It's been 25 years and I still miss you.”

You and Plutarch looked at each other wide-eyed. He wasn't meeting his mistress, the President was bringing fresh flowers to somebody he loved and had lost. But he said little one. Who's that?

“Livia wants to ruin my daughter's life. Thinks she needs to dump Plutarch and get into an arrangement with Seneca Crane. But I won't allow it.”

“I never liked your mother. Stupid drunk whore.” Plutarch whispered in your ear.

“Be nice.” You whispered, lightly smacking your boyfriend.

“I won't let that evil bitch ruin my daughter's life. She ruined mine by having you killed. And I know she was behind it, even if I can't prove it. Damnit, it was an Avox in her brother's employ that shot you, but it seems like the Peacekeepers just shoved it under the rug. Even your own brother didn't want a long investigation.”

You and Plutarch shared another wide-eyed look. Oh boy…If your father truly felt that the Cardews (your mother's family) had paid off the Peacekeepers to keep the truth of the shooting (a murder?) of his lover under wraps then no wonder he was afraid for your safety when you're around your mother.

“I wish I could stay longer, but I've got presidential duties to get back to. I'll visit you and our little one again. Same day, same time.” The President said before exiting the mausoleum.

Once he was gone, Plutarch turned to you and asked, “Do you want to go inside? See who still has such a strong hold on your father after all these years?”

“Yea.” You nodded.

After making sure the coast was clear, you and Plutarch entered the Snow Family mausoleum. It wasn't hard to spot the section with the fresh white roses. You and your boyfriend walked over to it, only to read a plaque on the wall.

Juniper Marie Halvir & Unborn Baby Snow

Death: July 1st 15ADD

“I think maybe you should take your dad's advice and keep your distance from your mother.” Plutarch told you while rushing you out of the mausoleum.

You just nodded. Your head's spinning at the secret you found out. The President’s secret that he's kept hidden for so long. No wonder he's the way he is. And now you can understand why your parents are always at each other's throats.

Now you understand why your dad's so protective of you; doesn’t like you around your mother too much.

In a way, you wish that you never uncovered your father's past. It would've kept you naive to your mother's true nature. But maybe you needed to know.

“Do you think that's why he's so cold? You know, losing them?”

“It most likely is.” Plutarch told you while leading you over to his car. “I've seen a picture of Juniper with the President in my dad's old Academy yearbook. They seemed to be close friends, sweethearts even.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore, Pluto. Can we just go get ice cream or something?”

“Anything for you, princess.” Plutarch smiled as you reached his car.

There's a reason why your Uncle Livinius Cardew died before you were ever born. Why your grandparents died before you were born too. Your father got revenge on the Cardews after marrying your mother, Livia. He poisoned them; made it look like food poisoning. He made sure that he killed the Cardews and took over their bank, all because they took the most precious thing in the world away from him.

The only reason he kept your mother alive was because he needed heirs. But now, well, he's highly considering having your mother drop dead from a bad case of food poisoning. He needs to plan it perfectly, so maybe he'll do it during a dinner that your mother has to attend with him. One of those should be coming up soon.

Or he could just poison her and make it look like a suicide.

Either way, you'll be burying your mother before the games and before your graduation from the Academy.

But your dad, President Coriolanus Snow, just wants what's best for you. He has to protect you from your mother, so you don't get hurt. The only way to do that is to permanently get rid of her. You're grown now, so Livia's has outgrown her usefulness to President Snow.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #president coriolanus snow #plutarch heavensbee #young!plutarch heavensbee #coryo snow #thg fanfiction #thg x reader #tbosas fic

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specialagentlokitty · 8 months

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Chris Argent x reader - getting along

Hey i was wondering if you can do one of Chris Argent were he’s is married with Derek aunt Peter sister and she is pregnant. Tank’s and I love how you right - @valeradriana💜

Sitting in the table, you began flicking through some of the papers on the desk.

“Nope.”

Tossing them aside, you picked up the next set of papers, mumbling to yourself.

“Throwing my papers around isn’t a great pastime you know.”

Smiling, you set them down and held out your arms for your husband to come over and gently hug you.

“Hey sweetheart..” you whispered.

Resting your head on Chris’ chest, wrapping your arms around his waist to hold him in place.

“Where have you been?” You asked.

“Helping your nephew with some research.”

You hummed, nodding your head as you pulled away from him.

Reaching up, you placed your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him down for a gentle kiss before you pulled away.

Laughing a little, Chris smiled at you, sitting next to you on the desk as he took the papers from your hand.

“You know nobody is going to let you leave the town right?”

“I know, but I’m just so bored.” You grumbled.

“Well, you’re supposed to be in bed rest anyways.”

You rolled your eyes a little bit.

“I’m pregnant Chris, I don’t have a broken leg.”

He chuckled.

“I know darling, but it’s just for both yours and the baby’s sake, it’s only for another week anyways then you can get out again.”

“I want to go out now.”

Chris looked at you.

“Where?”

“I don’t know, how about seeing Derek and Peter?”

Chris smiled, nodding his head as he went to get your shoes and jacket for you.

He wasn’t one to tell you no to things, and if you wanted to go and see your family then he was going to take you there.

He helped you up the stairs to the loft, and opened the door for you.

“Derek hale!” You yelled.

He spun around, dropping the papers in his hands.

“I haven’t done anything!”

Laughing, you walked over to gently hug him.

“I know, it’s just fun to scare you.”

Derek hugged you back, clearing the teenage pack from his couch so you could sit down on it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed rest?” Lydia asked.

“Yup, but I was bored so here I am. Also I want a word with my brother, where is he?”

“He’s here.” Peter said.

He walked over and you stood up to be in front of him, then you reached up so you could smack the back of his head.

“What the hell?!”

“You want to put these kids in danger?!” You yelled at him.

Your eyes flashed Red, and Peter shuffled back a little bit.

“Need I remind I am the alpha of my own pack and I will kick your little ass if you so much put a scratch in one of these teenagers I will bury you so far deep in this forest.”

You placed a hand on your stomach, and Peter walked over, easing you back into sitting down.

“I’m not doing anything, if anything I’m trying timo keep out of all this mess.”

“So it wasn’t your idea to send them into the lions den?”

Peter took a step away from you.

“Okay it was.”

You went to stand up.

“But for a good reason!”

You narrowed your eyes at your brother.

“The hunters know Derek, Chris and I, they don’t know about Scott or his little pack.”

You looked at him.

“We’ve got it all planned out really.” Scott said.

You raised your hand to him, looking at Peter and Derek.

“You’ve done some stupid ass things you two, but you can’t be throwing these kids in the middle of all of this.”

“Well, we’re already in the middle of it.”

“Stiles shush.”

He nodded at you.

“I’m expecting a baby, I don’t need to babysitting my own brother and nephew because they’re being morons.”

“Then don’t.” Peter snapped.

“Remember who pushed you down the stairs as a kid because I will gladly do it again Peter Hale. Figure out s new plan because if I find out you’ve endangered them again I swear to god you’ll have hell rained down on you.”

“Alright! Okay!” Peter huffed.

He glanced at Chris.

“You aren’t going to stop her?”

Chris shook his head.

“My wife is a free woman Peter.”

“Hey, you’re not off the hook either Chris Argent.”

He backed away towards the door.

“Run!” Derek yelled.

The three men quickly left the loft to escape your anger, and you were left Scott and his pack.

“Thank you (Y/N).” Lydia smiled.

“No problem, now, can someone please take me to get something to eat my husband ran away.”

“I’ll drive you, we’re actually just leaving anyway.” Stiles said.

You grinned a little and got up, you weren’t actually angry with Chris, but sometimes it was fun to watch him run off with the other two because you knew they would hide out together and talk.

It was helping them get along more than what they used to considering you were from a werewolf family and you were married to a hunter

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf imagine #Chris argent #Chris argent x reader #Chris argent x you #Chris argent imagine

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fluffywings13 · 3 months

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So to the lovely anon who asked about poseidon and percy t fic....perhaps.....

But imagine a world where Poseidon and the Seafam play an active role in little baby Percy growing up. Despite Zues's asinine rules and laws and bullshit.

Posiedon is there. Amphitrite is there. Triton is there. Sally is there.

Takes a village to raise a child right?

Heres a small sneak peek!

Poseidon would not think to be accused of the same mistreatment of his only land born child in this century. “Come, my Prince, you can down it. Strong as your táta. Come to me my most precious of pearls.” The royal family lived by their own Laws, heeding none other, Zeus would never be so brazen enough to strike down the Sea God and his Immortal Family so near to his domain. Though calmed with age and time, Poseidon was still considered one of those among them not to temp, his unpredictable nature made him ever more dangerous then the Council combined. “A few more steps, just a few more, I await to hold you with an eagerness untold of.”

Their place of meeting was the beaches of Montauk, the Land Born child of the Sea living peacefully in the safe walls of the cabin only a few steps from the waves that reside in his blood lapping at the sandy ground underfoot. Furnished to the liking of one ever Spirited Sally Jackson with mixed artfully with the tones of the boy’s Divine Sea Ruling Family.

Percy Jackson knew not of a moment in his short but exuberant life of pain or as though part was missing, no stories of a missing father who supposedly held adoration for him despite his otherwise radio silence, no striking hand of an abusive step father.

Giggling adorably is the nine month of Sea Prince, the breeze from the open expanse of waters behind the royals gathered just in the rolling surf ruffles through the boy’s squid ink black hairs, eyes that change hues based on emotion maintain a glow of the same shine of his dearest táta awaiting his arrival with hardly concealed excitement. Witnessing one’s babe take their first steps was a celebratory occasion transcending mortality. Poseidon hadn’t been there to witness his youngest Prince's true first cruising but he nor his wife and elder son had wasted even a thought of a moment when the prayer of their mortal counterpart reached their ears in the depths of the child reaching this momentous milestone.

Amphitrite maintains the ability not to laugh at her dearest husband’s excitement, especially so when the same hands though smaller in size are seen reaching from her other side, father and son share only a moment of a glance, a challenge to see whom the babe will come to first initiated in their shared glance of silence.

And Triton had claimed no fondness for the babe.

Giggling with her baby, Sally holds both tiny hands tight and secure as she simply assists her treasure in his stumbly pundy legged amble to those who await him at the waters edge, Percy pauses for only a moment to glance between his papa and big brother both of whom beckoning him forward.

Let it be known on the record that Poseidon, Lord of the Seas, is a dirt rotten cheater. His wife laughing openly at his side as their son reaches around her to smack his Father’s arm with the accusation being spoken into existence as the demi-god ambles into the Sea Lord’s waiting embrace. She takes a moment to observe her husband, simply take him in for a moment of observation, as he crows in elation to the sight of his youngest son’s first steps. The way his eyes glow in a manner she hasn’t seen in…Since his first of his many halfing children…his deep rumbling laughter in tune with the infants youthful pitched squeals as he lifts him from the gentle waves among the the shore up above his head.

#pjo tv show #pjo series #poseidad #sea fam #amphitrite #poseidon #triton #percy jackson #pj headcanon

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doukeshi-kun · 9 months

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𝙙𝙖𝙙!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

content ⨳ fluff, family scenario, fem!reader, oc kids: yuri (first son), mari (second daughter), karol (little gremlin)

notes ⨳ dedicated for homies in discord and especially @quansoda! we love dad nikolai and bsd dads agenda ehe ❤️ p/s, you're also the baby mama and this might seem unpolished and all lol im tryna escape the burnt-out

“Alright, kids. Who wants ice cream?”

“Me!” “Me.”

Yuri and Mari who are sitting at the back immediately raise their arms. Karol on the other hand is sleeping on your lap. He almost cries because he doesn't like sitting in the middle of the back seat. So you prompted to settle him down on your lap instead and now he's oddly sleeping peacefully despite the nauseous drive — uh, only Yuri is nauseous.

“We're gonna get ice cream?” you ask your husband who has been driving the car for almost an hour and a half now. The journey still has around three hours to go.

Nikolai grins. “Yurochka looks too fatigued,” he says slowly, just so his first son won't hear him. You try to get a peek at Yuri who sits behind you but your movement is limited since Karol is sleeping.

“Yuri, do you want water?” you ask.

“It's okay, mom...” you hear his voice. He tries to make himself sound like everything is fine but you and Nikolai can clearly tell he feels nauseous because of the ride.

Within five minutes, Nikolai stops by a rest and service area, complete with many open premises and petrol stations. The rest stop is not crowded with people, so he finds parking just quickly.

“Mama...” Karol shifts in your lap as he wakes up. You smile and pat his back.

“We're gonna get ice cream, Karol,” you say and his eyes gleam almost immediately. He hugs you and tries to open the car door in excitement.

“Kuh-kream! Ice cream!”

“Okay, okay! Don't run, Karol— Oh my Goodness!”

Leaving you dealing with the chaotic little gremlin — he actually opens the door and almost falls face down first — Nikolai goes to open the back seat door. He helps Mari to get out, as well as Yuri.

Nikolai crouches in front of Mari, fixing her blouse and ponytail, as well as her glittering purple pouch sling on her body. Yuri is just standing close to him, keeping an eye on you and Karol who are in minor chaos.

“Yurochka.”

Yuri turns to his dad and Nikolai grins at him before he brushes Yuri's hair, purposely messing it just to have Yuri pushes his hand away. “You good, Yurochka?” he asks and Yuri flashes him a regretful look. Yuri shakes his head and Nikolai nods. He reaches to Yuri's hair again, now styling it like a government secretary's hairstyle, which makes Yuri sighs at his dad's teasing.

“After this stop, you will sit at the front, 'kay?”

“What about mom?” Yuri asks. Coincidentally, you and Karol finally get to the three, with Karol hopping joyfully. Your face looks like you just overcame a war. Yuri huffs and smacks the back of Karol's head lightly.

“Ack!”

“Behave.”

“Behave!” Mari points her finger at Karol, supporting her brother but the youngest clenches his tiny cheeky fist before he bites Mari's finger. “Waaa!”

You pull Karol back and Nikolai gets to Mari. You sigh when Karol just giggling like some sort of villain character in one of his cartoons. You look at Nikolai. “He's very like you.”

“What? Darling, that's very offensive!” Nikolai clutches his chest, seeming to be offended by your remarks. Yuri scrunches his nose, seeing his dramatic dad. Without even saying anything, Nikolai knows Yuri is judging him very hard right now.

With Mari holding Nikolai's hand, Karol in his arm and Yuri holding your hand, all of you walk to the rest stop. Nikolai leads you to a cafe that serves waffles, ice cream and some drinks. You find a table just enough for your family of five near the window.

“What do you want to eat, kids?” Nikolai asks before he hooks his sunglasses on the collar of his shirt.

“The pink ice cream!” Mari says, giving Nikolai a fake pink card to him — as if she's paying.

“The choco waffle with vanilla ice cream,” Yuri says after he looks at the menu board at the counter.

“I'll take whatever you take,” you reply as you are braiding Mari's hair.

“Aaa... kreammm!” Karol.

Nikolai nods as Karol makes a biting gesture with his hands on Nikolai's hand — acting as if his fingers are dinosaurs' teeth. He twirls Mari's 'credit' card in his fingers as he looks at the menu. Swaying his hand gently from Karol, he walks to the counter to order. Having nothing to bother, Karol repeats the action at Yuri's arm instead.

“Mom,” Yuri calls you who are accessorising Mari's hair with pins and ribbons. You hum, looking at him. He is just letting Karol play with his arm. “Dad says he wants me to sit at the front...”

“Oh. Sure, Yuri. You can sit at the front.”

“But...”

“Yuri, you don't feel good sitting at the back, right? So, sit at the front later. Besides, dad can look after you. Or me, if I'm driving after this.” you say softly. Yuri looks at you and nods — he always listens to you the most.

Mari looks at her brother and raises her body on the table. “Yurochka, are you sick?” she asks, concerned. She reaches to Yuri to feel his forehead but ends up palming his face instead.

“No! I'm not sick.” Yuri moves Mari's hand, pouting.

Several minutes later, Nikolai returns with a tray of two plates of waffles, three drinks and two ice cream. Mari and Karol are quick to reach their ice cream and Yuri knows well to sit beside you so he can enjoy his choco waffles to himself. Nikolai gets both of you the same coffee and a plate of waffles to share.

“Pa! Naaaa!” Karol tries to feed Nikolai his chocolate ice cream which Nikolai gladly opens his mouth to, only for the spoon to land at the corner of his lips, smearing some chocolate.

You chuckle when Nikolai looks at Karol with a judging face. He turns to you, pouting. “What are you laughing at? Clean me.” he shakes your arm, making you chuckle more.

“Aren't you too old to not be able to clean yourself?” you tease, wiping the ice cream with your thumb. Nikolai snickers as he licks your thumb shortly, just fast enough that the kids do not even notice — but you notice.

“Tsk. Playful,” you grumble, shyly. Before you can pull away, Nikolai grabs your wrist, kissing it before he rests his cheek on your hand.

“I'm tired...” he mumbles. Since you two are sitting side by side at the round table, it allows you to talk with Nikolai personally. You look at your husband and it's clear that he is quite tired of driving — also adding with how he came home late the night before the journey, he oughts to get some sleep.

“I'll drive later. You, sit at the back and take care of Karol and Mari,” you say tenderly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. Nikolai smiles at the kiss, laughing softly — his laugh is just contagious, even if it's short and simple, and that's what makes you love to be around him. He makes you smile too easily too.

Not to mention, his voice is just the best.

“Mari is easy to take care of. My hardship begins when Karol wants to slop on my head like a koala to sleep.” Nikolai comments as he takes a piece of small waffles from the plate and feeds it to you.

“Well, if I'm a koala, I want to sleep on your head too,” you say before you reach his hair, brushing your hand against his white soft locks. “Soft... fluffy... and fragrant.” you tighten your hold on him, trailing your hands to his cheeks, squishing him as you glimmer with apparent happiness in your face.

“My husband is so cute.”

Squishing his face so his lips would pucker, you take a quick chance to peck his lips before releasing him. Nikolai's face is completely basked in a crimson hue, flustered by your aggressive affection. It's often him who does that to you, so receiving it himself makes him feel giddy inside.

“I love you too...” Nikolai says, slow enough only for you to hear. He cannot help himself from smiling and shifting in his chair like he just met his first crush. The sweet waffle cannot make him forget about the sweet short kiss of yours and the warm coffee cannot calm the fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

“Ugh, adults.” Yuri grunts.

“Shush, Yurochka. You can't even cut a potato.”

©doukeshi-kun 2023 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @cherikolya

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georgiapeach30513 · 26 days

Text

Inside Her Fantasy, Part 3

Summary: Ransom just wants to show you off

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.9K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Ransom watches Charlie run around the backyard. Her little legs look like a blur as she flails her arms around, letting out a yell of gibberish. She’s so tiny with such a huge personality, and a bit excited about her visitor that is only coming to see her and Maeve, so she says. He sighs, taking a look at his watch before he’s looking back at the tiny girl.

“What cha waiting on, Ranny?” Bucky teases, but Ransom swats a hand on his arm. “You got it bad. The sex that good?”

“No,” he answers flatly, still watching Charlie. Sex just hadn’t happened, and he didn’t even feel like he needed it. Just you. Eventually it will happen.

“You’re hoping it’ll get better?” Ransom looks towards his best friend and teammate, narrowing his eyes as he shakes his head no. “I’m not sure I follow here, brother.”

“She doesn’t have sex unless she knows it’s love,” Bucky’s mouth falls agape, but his wife playfully smacks his head before placing Nixon in his lap. “What?”

“Ran, I think that’s sweet. At least you know — well, you know,” Ransom’s brows furrows as he looks at the woman confused. “I mean that she’s not just jumping into this. She likes you, and you like her. And you know where you both stand, and you’re not letting anything physical get in between the two of you, and you’re not already bored with her,” Ransom doesn’t want anyone thinking less of you. He’s seen the media. He knows you’ve had various boyfriends, and he knows what everyone thinks. Clearly it’s not what he knows.

“She’s exciting though. I don’t like that her tour is taking her away from me, but it’s almost finished,” he looks back towards the little girl who had lost none of her energy. Opening and closing his mouth while he wonders if he should think out loud, or just vocalize what he’s thinking.

A whirlwind. That’s what the two of you have been. It had been somewhat difficult to keep the budding romance secret, but your team did everything possible for you to spend actual time together. And if you were overseas, it has to be FaceTime. Interference with his season was keeping him from going to you, but he would, as soon as the season was finished.

“I’ve never put this much time in a relationship, and I’ve never been more scared to take something public, while also wanting to protect whatever this is,” Bucky’s wife tilts her head to the side, placing a hand on her husband’s thigh. “I wanna show her off, but our time right now is special. It’s ours.”

“Your such a typical man.”

“Hey!” Bucky protests,

“It’s not a bad thing. Ransom is just feeling some type of way because he can’t let everyone see how happy he is, and who is making him happy. Ran, have you been listening to the game commentary? They know you’re happy. You’re playing better now than you ever have, and the Pats are set to win…”

“AHHH!” Both men scream, putting their hands over their ears. Giggling, Nixon joins in, and even Charlie stops running around to copy everyone’s movement. She had almost said win the Super Bowl, and it’s something neither men liked to say out loud. “It’s bad luck to say that, babe!”

“You two and your superstitions.”

“Shh! Mama, do you hear that?” The adults all freeze, but Ransom jumps up quickly. Jogging towards the gate because he knows that sound. That sound means you. “Daddy, can I say it?” He nods, and Charlie starts chuckling. Covering her hand with her mouth, trying to peak through the gate to see Ransom pick you up, and spin you around. “Yep, he’s got it so bad. Can she have a slumber party again? Can she sleep in my bed again? But instead of Ranny can I sleep in there? Can…”

“Charlie, shh, she really needs to try sleeping in a bed that isn’t a twin size princess bed,” her mother whispers, giving a look back to you and Ransom sweetly kissing before she’s watching her giggly daughter. Hoping Charlie doesn’t watch too long when you and Ransom deepen the kiss.

“He really likes her, mama. Look it, they’re still kissing,” she gives a point over to the two of you, and has to look away quickly.

“Charlotte Barnes, would you stop,” Bucky snickers, shaking his head at Nixon, but Charlie couldn’t be contained. Dropping her whole body on the ground in a fit of laughter. “You two, no. Now Nixie is gone, too. You three are rude. It’s sweet.”

“Daddy, sing that K.I.S.S.I.N.G song again!”

“Don’t you dare, Bucky! Charlie, you keep it up, and Ransom isn’t going to bring her over here anymore,” Charlie sits up a bit. Trying to contain her laughter as much as her little body can, but then she looks to see you jumping in Ransom’s arms. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, continuing the kissing.

“Can they breathe?” Bucky’s head falls back, and he howls in laughter, and the little girl’s chuckles begin again. It’s like a cycle between her and her dad. She just says what Bucky won’t.

“You’re ridiculous. I’m surprised you haven’t brought Maeve out of her hole with this incessant — hey, guys,” you bite your kiss swollen lips, and place your other hand on Ransom’s arm. Fully sinking into him. You didn’t think about the Barnes’ already being out here, and judging by the laughter they saw you and Ransom in just a tiny makeout session. You missed him, and missed his lips.

“Hey, it’s okay. Charlie’s used to seeing people kissing, huh, sister?” Her mom gives you a reassuring smile. Her and Bucky have been together forever, of course she saw them kissing.

“Not like that. Daddy, do you think some football man is going to pick me up and squeeze my butt like that?” Oh my god! Your cheeks fire up in embarrassment and you hide your face completely in Ransom’s arm. His meaty hand presses against your temple in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks, but you feel the rumble of a laugh in his chest. “You do know what a butt is for, right, Ranny?”

“Yes, Charlie, I know that butts are for pooping.”

Bucky clears his throat, as he stands up, saying your name with a friendly nod, “Someone else is very excited to see you again, aren’t ya, Nixie boy?”

“How did,” you never know how to approach the subject of Nixon’s legs. Strong little baby with no movement from his knees down. You could see the pain in Bucky and Sarge’s eyes over their littlest love not being able to walk yet. “I mean it’s not my business, but I — I’ve been thinking about him. And,” Ransom gives the hand he’s holding a slight squeeze, and you stop speaking. Waiting on his parents to clue you in on his latest surgery.

“He still doesn’t seem to have feeling in those legs, huh, Nixie. But he will. We’re going to see him running around like Charlie one day soon. You can hold him again,” just like last time, his nose scrunches up into the sweetest little smile until you reach forward, and pull him out of Bucky’s arms, and into your own. “There, now the men can…”

“Start up the grill, Bucky Barnes. Don’t stand there acting you think the women are going to do the work. I know our babies are hungry, and I’m sure you are, too. Where did you travel from?” Leave it to Sarge to make sure the men aren’t sitting around ‘watching’ the children while you and her cook.

“The last stop was Italy. I’ve got a few days off.”

“And she chose to spend it with us. We’ll play with the kids, you two men can cook,” she wiggles a finger towards you, and you follow her over to the furniture. Slyly looking back at Ransom with a smile. They didn’t treat you like anything but human here. The girls even felt more comfortable around you. “Bucky also makes a delicious margarita. Drink as many as you like, and we’ll make sure you and Ransom get home.”

“Oh, um — well,” you didn’t fully trust yourself alone with Ransom. At least with a pink canopy above your head you could let the hormones rage, and still want to talk with him all night long.

“Charlie’s princess bed still has your name on it. Just make sure you sneak in there after she’s snuck out, okay?” Nodding your head, you give Nixon a quick smooch to his chunky cheeks before you sit down with her, and you realize why she designed her backyard like this. Perfect view of the tall men, and of Charlie who dances around with her ribbon. Putting on a show for you, so you didn’t have to perform. Being with the Barnes just felt like that. No performance. Just you.

There’s something peaceful about this family. They’re normal, but completely get the public persona. They keep things simple, despite their mansion. They give their kids a beautiful life, without spoiling them too much. They love hard, and play harder. The simplicity of being here versus in a city or even on a tour bus is the most comforting thing, and you find yourself snuggling closer into Ransom.

Your legs drape over him as you listen to him and Bucky animatedly talk about the last game or practice. You didn’t even care what they were talking about as long as you could hear his voice, and feel his breath. Your hand rubs over his belly, and you wonder why you couldn’t have found him sooner. Of all the men you’ve dated, none were such a man like Ransom. He is bigger than any of your previous boyfriends. Taller, wider, all man.

Ransom is also successful in his own field. You didn’t feel you were competing with his fame. And he isn’t toxic enough to blame you for his problems or lack of recognition. And this little family — you want to be a part of it so much. Bucky just lets Charlie’s sleeping form squish up against him while he talks, while Sarge cuddles up so close to her little baby. The only person you hadn’t seen the whole day was Maeve.

But right now you hear her. Off in the distance, strumming a guitar, and the softest sweetest singing voice. A voice so tender you crave more. You look up at Ransom, and he offers a smile, but it’s Sarge that uses her head to motion where Maeve is. You hadn’t missed the treehouse on your first visit, but you’d assumed it was Charlie’s. She nods to you, and you get up from Ransom.

Your bare feet carry you softly up a treehouse you wish you had as a child. There isn’t even a ladder, but stairs instead. Her voice gets a bit louder, but there’s an edge of timidness to it. This girl has nothing to be shy about. People would sell their soul to get that soft of a voice.

Peeking your head through the door, you hear her growl in frustration, and lean over to scratch out a few lines before she’s back to strumming her guitar. Memories of you in a studio, even younger than her, doing what you loved, and now wishing you had a normal childhood. Wishing your dad wouldn’t have pushed so hard for you to be the star you are. But then, where would you be? It’s easy to take away moments of your life, but it opens up endless possibilities for your current present life.

You step on a wrong board, and Maeve turns around to look at you, her eyes getting wider before she looks back at her notebook, and sneaks it under her leg. “That board always creaks,” she answers plainly, starting to lay her guitar down.

“Please, don’t stop on my account.”

“I can’t compare to you.”

“The only competition you should have is with yourself. We’re all different. Different lives, different experiences. Those experiences give us our stories. And you take your stories and write?” She shrugs, and her fingers tap on her guitar a moment. “It’s a pretty place you’ve got here.”

“The house was dad’s first big purchase. He’d secured a great contract, and they finally felt comfortable buying the house. Mom was so scared of going back to where we were and in an apartment with Ransom,” you sit down across from her on another beanbag, ready to hear whatever story she wanted to tell you. Charlie never had to see her parents struggle, but Maeve was a part of it.

“I wanted a treehouse so bad, and mom told me to just wait, and we’d get some extra money. Ran, picked me up from school one day, and took me to this place, and he let me design it. Told me I could work it off in songs.”

“You’ve always liked singing?” She shrugs again, but picks up her guitar. Her fingers glide over the strings, and you can tell she tries not to look you in the eye much.

“I liked writing more. Most of the songs are different versions of lyrics to yours.”

“Like a parody?”

She shakes her head no giggling. Strumming a few chords when she looks up at you, “I simplified them for a kid. You would sing about love, I’d sing about playing in the dirt, or begging my dad to buy me a guitar. The melody had the same rhythm. And no, I don’t remember them. I’m sure they have videos of me. It was just us and Ransom for years. Him and dad were unstoppable in the game. Mom became more secure with our finances, and she wanted a baby. And it never happened. They tried, and they cried, and then that hellcat of my sister was born. I was able to bond with her because I could care for her. I’d sneak into her room and sleep on her floor, until she was the one sneaking in my room.”

“It’s a good thing, I guess. Where would Ransom sleep?”

She chuckles, finally meeting your eyes. “He used to sleep on our couch when we lived in an apartment. His chest was where I slept. Everyone took turns raising me, until Mimi stepped in,” you quirk up an eyebrow, wondering who this woman was. “Ransom’s mom. Dad’s parents helped when they could. Mom’s family wanted her to get rid of me, and then kicked her out. Mimi wanted to help, but they wouldn’t let her, so she helped with her time. Pulled some strings and got dad and Ran to meet the right people. He’s very important to us.”

“I can tell. He’s very important to me, too.”

”I can tell,” the two of you sit in silence for a moment. Assessing the situation as much as possible before you point to the notebook under her leg. “I’m just working on something.”

“Can I hear it?”

“It won’t be as good as yours,” you hope this is just a thing with you, and that she didn’t lack that much confidence. Being a teenage girl is so hard.

“Do you believe the words you wrote?” This time she doesn’t shrug, but nods her head. “Then it’s perfect,” deeply sighing she strums her guitar and her soft shy voice sings out a simple but truthful song about some stupid boy. No longer singing about dirt but about emotions and pain. Stopping abruptly in the song before growling again.

“I’m stuck right there. I just can’t get that part right,” you hum a moment. Had memorized the melody that she was playing before her mouth drops open, “You already know it?”

“Not really. But you had a good flow. I liked the bit of a breakdown. What if…”

“I got it!” She yips, going on to pick it up a few bars back, and adds in a cute little line before giggling, and scribbling it down. “Thank you!”

“I didn’t do anything, that was all you.”

“Hey, can you tell mom I’ll be down in about thirty minutes?” That is your cue to leave. You understand when you get in the moment, and need your space to let creativity strike fully. Taking your leave to walk down the stairs, and only Sarge is left putting away a few toys.

“Each man had a kid. Ransom took Nixon. It sounds really cute, but it’s just that he didn’t want to clean up this mess. Putting Nixon to bed is a lot easier than this. You want to grab that trash bag?” Responding with picking it up, you help her stuff the remaining garbage in there, and she chuckles. “I always thought you would be a stuck up princess.”

“Oh, is that what you really thought I would be?” Oddly enough people thought a lot of things about you, but you mostly wanted to be left alone.

“It’s not a you thing. A lot of celebrities don’t look at the wives of football players as anything of importance. I’m okay staying in the background. And well, you — you don’t know how to.”

“Ransom’s teaching me,” she offers you a genuine smile before closing up the shed of toys. “Do you like me?”

“I like you just fine, sweetheart. You gotta understand when he brought you to meet my kids and he shows you’re in a relationship. It's more personal. I have nothing against you in the least bit. But my babies are my priority. Especially the girls. Nixie doesn’t know any better. They loved you as someone they would never meet, and now they really love you as their uncle Ran’s girlfriend. Now can I ask you a question?”

Sighing, you nod your head. She meant a lot to not only Ransom, but his mom. You had grown to have a lot of respect for her, especially knowing what she went through to get where she is. “Do you care about him? I mean really really care about him?”

“Yeah, I really really do.”

“Good. Because that man has been good to me, my husband, and my children. He’s a big brother to me. They’re more than just teammates. They’re life mates. I will never get rid of Ransom, and he’s never getting rid of us. So what is this?”

Looking up at the sky, you try and think of the right words. Choosing to shrug your shoulders when you look back at her, “I don’t know. I like it. I like it so much, and I’ve never felt so — so free. Today was amazing, and we didn’t do anything. There weren't the cars, there wasn't the glamor and the drinking. But it was the most at ease I’ve ever felt. And I just want to protect it.”

“That’s good. Now, can I offer you a piece of advice?” You nod your head, trying to ignore Ransom who had softly said your name out the back door. “Take your time in this way. The moment you two go public you know what’s going to happen. Secure your emotions and relationship before that happens. Make sure he’s ready for your level of fame. This woman you were today is not the persona on the stage.”

She is right. You want to protect whatever is happening between you and Ransom keep the two of you in this safe bubble. You aren’t sure if you want to share him with the world. Just show him off a bit. When you’re ready.

Ransom whistles as he looks around the tight little area. Leaning over behind your tech who is only slightly annoyed, so he pushes Ransom away from him. “Please, don’t ask me what any of these buttons are for. It’s complicated. Sit in that chair, sit on the couch, or…”

“Do I get to go in there with her?” You giggle as the tech turns around to glare at Ransom shaking his head. “Why not?”

“Do you sing?”

“No.”

“Are you offering any sounds for the track?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“Then stay on this side. I don’t need your breathing in the background. Alright, the boyfriend is here. Can we go again?” You want to sing and giggle inside with that word, and Ransom straightens up his posture. That word is getting thrown around a lot more in your inner circle, and you’re loving it. You wait for the ticks of the snare drum before you start singing, and Ransom moves closer to the tech, furrowing his brows, but you’re too into the song.

“Who wrote this?”

“Maybelle Browning.”

“No.”

“Yes. Saw the sheet this morning.”

“No, she didn’t. Maeve Barnes wrote this. Hey,” he walks closer, tapping on the glass, and the tech glares at him.

“She can’t hear you.”

“Stop the recording now!” You glance up at the two men when everything halts. Putting up your headphones, and Ransom says something to your tech before barging into the studio. “What are you doing?”

“Recording a song that Maeve wrote.”

“What? H-h-he said that Maybelle dipshit wrote it. What is going on?” You feel a bit guilty for not explaining the situation to Ransom, but you weren’t sure he would know it was Maeve’s song.

“Ran, Maybelle Browning. M.B. Maeve didn’t want her name on it, but she sent it to me with a recording and said she wrote it for me, but didn’t expect it on the album, but then I asked her if I could record it roughly, and send it to her for consideration. She’s getting full credit. She wants this. I wouldn’t…what — did you think I was stealing from her? I wouldn’t. I adore that little girl, and Ran — don’t be mad.”

“Sorry, I’m very protective of — she gets writing credit? And paid?”

“She’s a minor, so I want her parents present when we discuss that with the lawyers, but if she wants it on the album, I do. But I want her full approval. It’s amazing. Ask Todd. Ran, she is incredible. Did you really think I would do that?” He shakes his head no, pulling you into his body. “You promise?”

“That’s just my girl, and I think she’s the best and deserves the world, so I’ll make sure she gets it. It’s not you, it's this life. I know how brutal things can be.”

“You’re talking to a girl who has re-recorded all my past songs, so now I have ownership of the copyrights. I will make sure she gets the best contract, but I won’t be the only artist that will want her lyrics,” Ransom pulls you back, looking down at you, and you want to melt into him. “You promise you didn’t think I would do that? If I can help her achieve a goal, I want to.”

“No. I think you get taken advantage of enough. I have this need to protect everyone I love — and care about,” he softly slots his lips against yours, and you return the kiss. Snaking your arms up around his neck before he lifts you up off the ground. Wrapping your legs around his waist when the tech leaves.

He might not have said it directly, but he said something. It is enough, you’d been feeling the same things. But now you just don’t know how you can keep this all secret. You want to shout to the world that Ransom Drysdale is your man, and you don’t care about the past drama of exes. You care about his smile, and his scent, his thick fingers entwined into yours.

Your fingers weave through his slicked back hair when he pulls off your lips. “Come to a game,” you smile, shaking your head no. You need to know he’s ready. Privacy will be a thing of the past. “Please, come to a game.”

“Ran…”

“No, excuses. I need you at a game. I need our dates not to be at home, or in recording studios. I need to…”

“Claim me?”

“Something like that. Please, I’ll have a comfy little box. Bring a friend, bring whoever. Just watch me play on something that’s not a television.”

“So you want us to go public before you’ve ever seen me naked?” You wiggle your eyebrows, giving him the sweetest smile. You’ve already decided you want to go. There’s nothing more that you want to do besides see Ransom play.

“If you want me to see what you look like naked, I’ll gladly look. But I can’t stand us not being able to be together in public. I want us to be normal, and do normal couple things, and ride off in a car after the game. Just me and you, baby.”

“You know when you’re with me things will never be normal, right? People are going to dig into everything you’ve done. All your social media posts, all your past girlfriends, everything.”

“I know, buddy, but I don’t care. What I care about is you and me. Why are you smiling at me like that? Is that a yes?” You shake your head no, grinning from ear to ear. That name. He wouldn’t know, “What?”

“You called me buddy. That's what my parents have always called me. It’s just sweet.”

“Ehh, I don’t share nicknames, Bud,” he leans back in, giving you the sweetest kiss before resting his forehead against your own, “So what do you say?”

“I’ll go.”

“Yes!”

“Under one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You come to Rhode Island and meet my mom afterwards,” Ransom gulps loudly, but nods his head. “Hey, I’ve been on your turf, and met the Barnes’, so now it’s your turn. And if you could not get hurt during the game.”

“No promises. It’s football, Bud.”

If silence was a sound it would be now. Putting on a bright smile, you let your bodyguards lead you to the designated area. It takes seconds for people to realize it was you, but it feels like an eternity. A simple outfit, but the Patriots jacket you’re wearing is obvious.

Smiling as you talk to the bodyguard on the right, trying to ignore the questions of why you’re here. “Didn’t Drysdale do an interview saying he was going to give her a bracelet with his number on it at a show?”

“She’s just looking for her next victim to write about.”

“Does she even understand football?”

“She’s made comments about Drysdale, and how he was hot. She always gets what she wants.”

“She’s got an 81 on her bracelet! Oh my god!”

It’s all in the details. Of course you are going to wear something that is a nod to Ransom. They just couldn’t see the other details. Holding your head high as you’re led into the box. Taking a deep breath as you look at Ransom’s stage. Everyone else could make your relationship ugly, but you didn’t have to. You are Ransom Drysdale’s girlfriend, and you’re proud of him, so you deserve to be there just like everyone else. Let the press speculate and gossip. You are here to see your boyfriend.

Trying to ignore the cameras is proving difficult. It is part of your job to notice them. Wishing they would put the cameras on the field. On anything but you. You just want to eat chicken tenders, drink beer, and hang out with the Barnes’. Is that so hard?

It’s everyone else on the team that notices you first. Bucky taps on someone’s chest, pointing up at the box, and even a little wave. It creates a dominos effect with the other teammates. Pointing, and crowing about how Ransom was able to wrangle you.

The coach hits Ransom on the shoulder, turning around to point at the box, and his crystal blue eyes spot you. His mouth turns up into that boyish grin, and he mouths, “I can’t believe she’s here,” winking a bit towards you. His focus completely gone as he smiles at you.

Everyone else’s pointing and comments fade away, and you only see that gorgeously handsome man. Your number 81. Normally you have constant flowing of words in moments like these. Trying to think of how you could tell this story with lyrics, but with Ransom there’s just him and an undeniable invisible string between you.

Each year up until this moment it has gotten shorter. Wound tighter as the two of you are pulled together. Now that string has wrapped around both of your legs, tethering you to the other. Everything else disappears but that string and Ransom. Even when you aren’t with him you feel the tug of needing to be with him.

No wonder you had bad relationships that you wanted to work, but something pulled you away. It was this amazing tie that was bringing you to right now. Right here with Ransom. The world may be watching, but all you see is him.

“I see you, Bud,” he mouths, and you get an ever bigger smile on your face. It’s like this love story was written by divine powers. And written just for you and Ransom.

“I only see you, Ran.”

Masterlist

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#inside her fantasy #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfics #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fics #football au #singer au

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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Hi! Can you write a Morpheus x reader where they have a big family (like five kids, with one on the way) and have been married for like 12+ years with their oldest kid being born a year into their marriage and it’s just Morpheus being a dad and him and the reader being a family with their kids (oh! Like a scene where their kids interrupt him during his serious work wanting to hang out with their dad)

Papa! Papa!

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: Just a normal average day in the Dreaming with 1 mom, 1 dad, 5 kids and 1 on the way [sips tea] [butterfly fluttering] [dumpster fire] [caveman music].

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: fem!reader, wife!reader, mom!reader, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy symptoms/pregnancy struggles, 💀children💀, soft dad!dream, my ideal husband!dream, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: I LOVE SOFT!DAD FICS (so much so i got carried away T_T) IM SO EXCITED I CAN FINALLY WRITE THIS. also, holyeaglefanlawyer since you made another req with a similar prompt, i might make that a p2 but lol it's at the very end of my req list so lskfha;sfsah so. also i had to think of 5 NAMES ASHFAHSF:LASFHAS: DEAD T_T i hope yall like em please names are so hard. i put so much thought into their names gosh ALSO ALSO i describe the features of the kids, but they all register this way mostly because of dream's mystical-ness ya feel, not so much because of yn ok? ok good night im dead now Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx

My eyes rip open at the ear breaking screech that rings through the whole of the Dreaming. I am certain my eyes are blood shot in exhaustion, and yet I power through. I huff as I place a hand on my round belly. I slowly maneuver up on the bed I laid for a nap.

Ah. Naps. Ironic I could not find slumber in the dwelling of the Dream Lord.

I suck in a breath as I internally debate which child busted their lung out in protest of goodness-knows-what this time.

I put on my fuzzy slippers when I get to the side of the bed. I push myself up and sigh as I get to my feet, slowly making my out of my bedroom, my final place of refuge.

Farewell peace, or whatever semblance of it I had.

The moment I exit, there are a chorus of screams, groans, and giggles.

I make it to the entrance of the throne room. Immediately, I see the scattered toys and hundreds of children sprawling the area. Literally. There were a hundred plus children sprawling the area, all copies of my son-

"Noor, please," I shake my head, placing my hand on the child's tiny shoulder, "we talked about materializing copies of yourself."

"Mama!" he says in excitement, dropping the toy horse in his hand, coming up to me, sealing his arms around my legs.

I smile down at him, my little Noor. I brush his golden hair back, bright like the stars, much like what his name meant, light.

"Gadiel and I are playing armies though," the fourth born pouts, pointing across the hall where about a same hundred copies of his older brother, Gadiel, was stationed. He turns to me, gripping me tightly, "I don't want to lose to him again. He- aw!" he cuts himself off, turning to his left, "Hey! THAT HURT!"

I watch as Gadiel and Noor begin to struggle against each other from across the hall, pulling at each other's clothes, smacking each other's face.

Well, I didn't know what I was expecting, but this looked about right.

"BOYS!" I call out sternly.

The copies of my sons all turn to me as my voice echos in the hall.

"Mumma?" a whisper sounds by my ears, undoubtedly my youngest making herself known to me, though she was nowhere near me, and was lost in the sea of her brothers.

All at once, Gadiel and Noor's copies begin to disappear until it is only the Noor by my thigh, pressing his face into me while tears fled his eyes, and Gadiel, a good few feet across the hall, who was quickly making his way over.

Now that the ocean of boys were gone, I spot in the corner, on a carpet, littered with stuffed toys, my daughter, Isra, who was already looking at me, grinning from ear to ear, "Mumma!"

I watch her stand on her tiny legs, her shiny, dark hair, bouncing with every step she took. Journey of the night, the little girl's name meant. I gasp at her journey towards me when she nearly falls.

Gadiel notices my reaction then turns to where I was looking, spotting his little sister. He stops in his tracks, making a u-turn for her, helping her come to me.

I let out a breath at the sight, "good boy."

Upon hearing the praise, Noor looks out at his younger and older siblings, brows furrowing, "mama, he hit me!"

I turn down to Noor, who pulls away from me to point accusingly at his brother again, "he hit me," he repeats then begins to point at his body, "here, here, here-"

"NOT AT THE SAME BODY!" Gadiel cries out, as he holds Isra's tiny hands up while she walks in front of him. "Mama!" he calls, "he hit me too!"

"Mumma!" Isra babbles breaking into a giggle.

I meet my little girl halfway, breathing in deeply before carrying her in my arms. I grunt at the weight of it all, but I push past the heaviness when my daughter giggles and grabs my face, affectionately nuzzling into me.

"Mama look!" Noor complains, pointing to his face, "I think I have a black eye!"

I raise my brows as I look at the boy's spotless face. Gadiel then follows suit, twisting his arm around, pointing arduously at his elbow, "LOOK! HE INJURED ME!"

"THAT'S YOUR BIRTHMARK!" Noor angrily growls.

"AND YOU RUINED IT!" Gadiel bites back.

I sigh, blinking slowly in exasperation. I am calmed when Isra begins to speak nothings to me in her high pitched voice, full of splendor. I swoon at her baby talk.

I smile and nod, "yes, my girl, Gadiel and Noor have been naughty."

The boys do not even hear me when I say this.

God is my fortune, that is what my third born's name means. I must remember that--I have to remember that. God is my fortune. God is my fortune. God is my fortune. God is m-

"Silence."

The two boys jolt in their spots upon hearing the echoing sound of the deep voice of their king.

The next moment, Irsa is taken from my arm. I turn to my right, finding a kiss placed upon my cheek, "my queen, I told you that-"

"PAPA! GADIEL HURT ME!" Noor shrieks, running up to his papa's legs.

"HE HURT ME TOO!" Gadiel runs towards the man he got his blue eyes from.

"Silence!" Dream calls, looking down at his sons, who were now swatting each other. It does not work the second time around.

I release a breath, intervening, "boys."

Still nothing.

"ENOUGH!" Dream says, pushing between the boys, looking down at both of them. Isra, blissfully unaware of it all, begins to aimlessly pat her father's face, just as he begins chastising the two, "it's bad enough you woke your mother-" he stops a moment when the toddler's finger finds its way into his mouth. Dream pulls her arm back, wiping her hand on his collar, "I will not have you show such disrespect by quarrelling before the both of us."

"But papa," the two say weakly in unison.

"No rebuttals," Dream calls, "now-" Isra cuts him off when her hands flails over to his eyes, poking them unintentionally.

Noor slaps a hand on his mouth. Gadiel's cheeks expand as he holds back his laughter.

"Papa," I call, "let me-"

"It's ok, mama," Dream turns to me, raising a hand as he readjusts the child in his arm. I watch as he turns to the boys, who were now hunched over closely to each other, muttering and giggling amongst themselves, surely making fun of their father over what their sister did to him.

"Now," Dream starts, "apologize to each other."

The two let out hushed chuckles as they separate. The seven-year-old presses his lips, "we already did," crossing his arms.

The five-year-old nods his head, struggling to cross his arms, but succeeding eventually.

"Well, I did not hear it," the ???-year-old says to his boys, shaking his head. The three-year-old in his arms rubs her cheek on his shoulder. I coo at the sight of it.

Noor and Gadiel turn to each other, muttering sorry once, turning back to papa after.

"Good enough," papa says, "very well then, begone," he shoos them with a hand.

The two perk up, now off the hook. Noor runs away first, giggling about playing in Fiddler's Green. Gadiel raises a hand, gesturing that Noor should wait. Gadiel turns to his papa, motioning to his jaw, "papa, you have drool on your chin," then runs away with his brother.

I inspect Dream's face, but the man wipes his chin of any evidence before I could spot it.

"I am uncertain if I enjoy how quickly they turn into friends and foes," Lord Morpheus orates as her daughter yawns and begins to nuzzle in the crook of his neck.

I rub her back then caress his cheek, "does it matter if you enjoy it? It's not like it would change the fact."

"I am Shaper of Forms, am I not?" he says, stepping closer, hand coming up to my side.

"Ahhh," I sound, "just like how you said you'd make the twins go to sleep, only to find your powers don't work on them."

Dream turns away, brows raising at the memory, "it's not that my power does not work, it's because their own power that-"

"PAPA, I DID IT!"

The two of us turn our sights to the lanky eleven-year-old boy, waving his hands victoriously as he stands on the throne.

Dream grumbles then points, "off."

The boy drops his hands, jumping off the throne. His twin sister's mocking chuckles are faint in the air.

Dream turns to me, muttering softly, "children."

I snort as my husband leads us to his desecrated chair. I take his free hand and lean into him, continuing his words, "you wanted."

He narrows his eyes , "I am offended by the lone notion."

I break into a laugh. I tilt my head and correct myself, "we wanted."

Dream grabs my hand, placing a kiss at the back of it. He then brushes his hand on my protruding belly amorously, "yes. Every single one."

"Papa!" our eldest calls, meeting us halfway as he excitedly jogs over, "I did it! I got us back here using my own sand!"

"I helped him though!" our second-born calls, one leg thrown on the armrest of her father's throne, "he nearly got us stuck in a vacuum."

Orion rolls his eyes, "did not."

"Did too!" Aurora stomps both her feet on the ground.

"DID NOT!"

"DID T-"

"Silence," Dream mutters under his breath, as not to awaken the napping child in his arms. It is effective to the older children though.

Dream takes the boy's face into his large hand, rubbing his thumb on his cheek, "very good, my son, you have done me proud."

Orion beams, the stardust freckles on his skin shine like the very constellations of his being.

Aurora rolls her eyes, lips curling as she pushes her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms around herself, "I did it first though!"

"You did, indeed, my daughter," Dream turns to her, making his way to his throne. The chair widens as to make room for the both of them, "I am proud of you for it," the king sits next to his princess, "and for the assistance you gave our prince."

Aurora turns to her papa. With Isra in one arm, Dream throws the other arm over Aurora's shoulders, pulling her close. His older daughter's hair flutters with a halo like the borealis as she leans into him lovingly.

"Orion, can you make me a cushioned chair with two pillows?" I huff, leaning on my son's shoulders, feeling exhaustion creep up on me.

Dream and Aurora turn to Orion, who then says, "I'll make them the softest, mummy!"

"Moron!" Aurora quips, "she doesn't like super soft pillows."

"Language," I call to my daughter as my son turns to me.

He verifies, "how soft do you want your pillows, mama?"

Aurora pulls away from Dream, walking over to us with a grunt, "let me do it."

"No! She asked me!"

"But you don't even know how-"

The two are silenced when a sofa chair manifests to my side.

"Oh, thank goodness," I sigh, walking over it to sit myself down, "my feet are killing me."

The twins shoot a look of daggers to the man on the throne, exclaiming both at once, "PAPA!"

Dream shrugs, "I know my queen's preferences better all of you combined."

Aurora makes a face, placing a hand on her hip, "psssh, you forgot it was her birthday last time!"

"Yeah," Orion agrees, "and you only thought of giving her a gift because you saw Gadiel and I making decorations!"

"And then you decorated the whole castle yourself!" Aurora exclaims.

"Not cool," Orion ends.

Dream purses his lips at the memory, "I made sure to keep the throne room empty for you to hang your crafts."

"Papa!" she cries, "that's not the point!"

"You shouldn't have manifested decorations," Orion mumbles, "you should have made some with us!"

Dream, in all his power, was nary a match to his twins when they ganged up on him. He rubs Isra's back, pouting in thought, "you know I'm not good at crafts."

Aurora rolls her eyes as Orion shakes his head. "We can help you, papa," they say at the same time.

"You're the one who keeps telling us to practice," Orion calls.

Dream- 0.

He sighs, "I am defeated."

"Yeah," Aurora says, as though it is the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well," Dream says, turning his gaze from the twins, "I do hope you enjoy..." he trails off upon seeing the blissful form on the chair.

"Mama fell asleep," Aurora pouts.

Orion, catching this as well, rubs his hands together, "I can bring mama to her bed-"

"No!" Dream calls, waving his hand, doing the deed himself, "you must not attempt to do such a thing! Do you understand?!"

The twins turn to their papa, alarmed by his grave tone, "your mother is pregnant and you both are just barely capable of bringing yourselves back and forth to the Dreaming."

Orion frowns, as does his sister, "but you said you were proud of us, papa."

"I am," he says, standing from his throne as Isra sighs in his arms, "but mama is not like us, remember? She could get hurt, and your baby sibling could get hurt too."

The girl remembers something because of that. "Oh, papa!" Aurora calls, "we have something to tell you."

Dream knits his brows, "what is it?"

Aurora turns to her twin, nudging him. Orion has no clue what she is talking about. She waits a moment, makes a face, then grunts in annoyance. She decides to tell him herself, "we think mama is pregnant with twins!"

"What?!"

Orion suddenly remembers, "oh. OH! Yeah, yeah! We saw a vision about it."

Dream gulps, clutching the babe in his arms.

"Oooooooh!" Aurora calls excitedly, "I hope they're both girls!"

"NO!" Orion complains, "one of them at least has to be a boy."

"Ew no! There are enough yucky boys in this family."

"You're yucky!"

"YOU'RE YUCKY!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY A BUGGER!"

"EW!" Aurora shoves Orion, "YOU'RE PEE!"

Orion cringes, "WELL YOU'RE POOP!"

Dream rubs his face, internally planning the best way to break the whole 'carrying twins news'. He releases a breath.

"Children," the king calls, "are you sure of your vision or is it just twin propaganda?"

#dream of the endless fanfic #dream of the endless fluff #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff #the sandman x reader #morpheus fluff #the sandman x you #dream x you #dream fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #dad!dream of the endless #dad!dream #girl dad!dream #papa bear!dream

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

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We've imagiend an AU where rhaenyea and daemon cheat on babey BUT what about an AU where daemon cheats on nyra with her?!? emotionally, in his dreams, in his fantasiessss becaue she would NEVER.

i imagine when daemon returns she is maybe away with her tutor on a rare opportunity to live with a dothraki tribe for a few months to lesrn their customs and the language. perhaps the dothraki were flattered by her interest and respect.

when she returns, the castle is a full of celebration and daemon is so curious to see the young girl behind all the sweet rumors and the remember the neice he coddled when he was younger. he's all but forgotten her in his years of drinking and living off repeats of his memories of nyra.when nyra goes rushing past him to hug her does he smacked in the face of all those memories he made with his little neice.

buying her her first pair of riding boots, her first dragon ride, braiding her hair because hes the only one who doesnt do it too tight or too loose. scolding her tutor for being too hard on her. sneaking her away from her septa to play hide and seek. being dragged by her and nyra to play 'house' hahah thats bound to be so on the nose. Ofcourse hes the husband! he enjoys those, being fretted over and serve with wooden toy teacups. he remembers being her only visitor as a babe when nyra was bawling for hours in her room and his brother was mourning over the loss of his wife. he remembers holding her at the funeral and its was near impossible them to tear her away. he remembers thinking how he could fathom the babe in his arm ever being in that enevlope of fire. dead and still. how the young him swore it would never happen and he's always protect her. he also remembers hearing wisps of her name during his banishment and realises now why it was whispered so covetously. not loud and bold adoration like nyra.rhaenyra was the delight of the kingdom, she was the coveted secret. and now he learns what it means to long and covet after her too.

ofcourse, daemon overtime has instances forgets his place as nyras husband as he gets consumed by her. chasing after her across the kingdom and struggling to control himself. he starts lashing out at her admirers. Nyra is becoming furious, jealous and possesive. meanwhile reader is caught in a storm of her own emotions. she wants to love him but cant. needs to cut it off but wont. AAAH my imagination has run too far! hahah anyways please dont feel pressured with this ask. im just work vommiting! your work is amazing and i cant believe i get to read it just for free liek this??? u deserve everything good!

OOOOOOooooOoOooooH. So, um, I want to write a dark continuation of this, badly. PLZ.

innocence (a 'terms of endearment' au)

GIF by @yenvengerberg.

You are visited by an unwanted guest.

Triggers: WARNING - NON-CONSENSUAL SMUT, incest, age gap, purity culture.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, heart pounding.

You feel sick, as though your stomach will turn inside out within your belly, a rush of dizziness spotting your vision at the sight of him. "You - you-"

"Me," your uncle taunts, stepping through the open archway from the balcony into your chambers. Daemon is drenched from the rain, wild-eyed and eyes blazing, shaking the waterlogged strands from his face. He looks about the room disdainfully, taking in the plainer fare of the accommodations your mother's House had provided you. "I expected you to run, but this? Here? How... dull."

You cannot help the tears that well, and you cast around in panic for an escape. The door has been barred. You curse yourself for requesting rooms so far removed from the others, for now there is no one to hear you scream.

"Please," you beg, backing away even as he advances toward you, clutching onto the meagre layers of your shift in the vain hope of concealing your form from him. He eyes you like a wolf does its prey - like a dragon devouring its kill. "Go home, Uncle - there is nothing for you here!"

"Oh, I think not," he replies, smirking as you grab for the door handle, a futile attempt at retreat.

He knows it's futile; he makes his way leisurely toward you, strolling forward like a man with all the time in the world to waste. You turn your head away and whimper as the hard line of his body settles against you, chilled and soaking through your nightrail, his nose carving a trail along your neck and inhaling.

"Mm," he moans, smiling against you when you sob, "so sweet, little niece. You were waiting for me, weren't you?"

You shake your head, cringing as he divests himself of his shirt, the fabric slapping damply against the stone floor. You squinch your eyes shut. Perhaps if I keep them closed, he will go away and this will stop. To no avail; you hear the sound of boots being discarded, the squelch of breeches hitting the ground, and you know when he returns to you that he is - he is -

"No!" you squeak, striking out aimlessly.

He groans as you make contact, though you do not know if you have struck him in the gut or the groin, and push past him, taking advantage of the moment. There is nowhere to run. Only one entry which he stands before, and you know you will not unlatch the door in time to make your exit; you briefly consider accepting death by plunging from the edge of the balcony, but he cannot win this way. You will not let him. You hear footsteps - you dart to the hearth - spinning around, you brandish the poker at him.

"Go home to Rhaenyra, uncle," you speak, though the words come out tremulously. You steadfastly avoid looking below his waist, not wishing to see the appendage with which he desires to violate you. "I have told you that I will not become your whore. You are wed in the eyes of the gods, and my virtue belongs to my husband alone."

"Your husband," he sneers, batting your makeshift weapon from your hand with little effort, grasping you by the throat in a punitive hold. "What common man could ever be good enough for the blood of Old Valyria? You're mine, Princess - and I will have you."

"Why are you doing this?" you gasp, clutching at his arm. He does not let up on his grip; his countenance is dangerous, eyes dark beneath the stern ridge of his brow, and for a moment you are worried he means to murder you. Then, sighing, he readjusts, loosening his grasp, keeping you still with the threat of renewed asphyxiation. You try to appeal to him. "I have been naught but your family, Uncle," you whisper beseechingly. "You used to play with me as a child!"

"And now it is time for you to perform as a woman must," he responds, grabbing you by the hip, and his face seems almost regretful at the statement.

You can feel the steel firmness of his - endowment - at your belly, and you gulp. His expression turns softer, his thumb rubbing circles into the flesh of your throat.

"I'll be gentle, sweetling," he says, "but you have no choice now. I'll take your maidenhead as my own, for it belongs to me. You'll bleed, though that cannot be helped. And, finally, I'll spill in you, because that is my right as your husband."

"Hus - husband?"

"Yes, my love," he croons, scruffing you by the neck to stop you recoiling as he leans in to kiss the tears from your cheeks. "I'll bed you, then wed you - out of order, perhaps, but you'll get your wish. Your virtue will belong to your husband. I'm sure 'Nyra will learn to share. Aegon's wives did, and so shall mine."

"I don't-"

"Enough," he barks, dragging you by the waist. You try to pull against him, but it is pointless - he is a battle-hardened warrior, built to make war against men far bigger and stronger than you. He tosses you upon your bed, dragging you down by the ankle when you turn to your belly and attempt to crawl away. "I tried to be nice, little girl, but I won't waste my time if you're going to be naughty."

He holds you down by the neck, shoving your face into the covers as he rucks up the back of your shift. You weep uncontrollably, kicking out your legs when he jerks them apart to settle in the space he has made. His fingers quest along your most secret places, coating your flesh in something slimy and warm - his saliva, you realise with disgust - digging uncomfortably into a crevice you have never dared to touch. It is replaced by the feeling of something much larger, hotter, more frightening. And then you are -

scored

in two

- and you shriek at the blistering iron of it, this invasion that rips you and annihilates everything that was bright and innocent and good. He holds you there, wailing, and kisses your shoulder even as he forces himself further.

"There, there, my love," he hushes you, stroking your hair as you bawl your defeat. You sink into the mattress, holding onto the sensation of fingers on your scalp, a babe new to the world and screaming at the red-hot tumult of it. It takes you away, locking you within the cage of your mind. You let it. "You're mine now."

He moves, and it is agony, a knife he uses to slice through your skin over and over again. You lay there, taking it, waiting for him to finish doing as he will, knowing there is nothing left to do now but keep still, keep quiet, and allow him to break you apart. His breath comes hot against the back of your neck, his lips marking maps across the flesh there, his hands seemingly multiplying in their quest to map the expanse of you within his reach. But this is all under water for you, muffled and distorted and strange. You are no longer encased in your body, a vestal spirit floating somewhere high above.

Let me be Athfiezar, wild and savage and free upon the wind.

Let me be Syrax, soaring as high as she might above the cities of Westeros.

Let me be Vhagar, traveller to shores far, far from here.

Anywhere but here.

"Fuck," he is moaning atop you, rutting away between your thighs, huffing and panting. "You've got the tightest little cunt, precious. I'll enjoy getting you with child."

You say nothing - it is not you he is after, but a facsimile of you, a doll-shaped figure with your face and your form that does nothing but lay there and gather dust.

When he spills, it is warm within you, and it reminds you of how cold you are, leached of all vigour and life. He withdraws, and you can feel the mess of fluids spilling from the part of you that is ruined now. Surely it is fractured beyond repair, you think, crying silently at the throb and sting of it.

"Good girl," Daemon soothes, pulling you into his embrace.

And how awful it is that your uncle's comfort is suddenly all that you desire - you cling to him, unable to connect the monster who has destroyed you with the very same man who had once carried you about your childhood home, loudly proclaiming 'make way for the Fairy Princess!'. You long for those days again.

"Shh," he murmurs, pressing tender-soft kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your mouth. "It's over now. Well done, niece."

It will never be over, you think hollowly, laying in his arms a broken shell of a girl. Never.

I am sorry for this. 'TIS AN AU BLURB, NO MORE!

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #terms of endearment au #terms of endearment blurbs #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #matt smith #targaryen #fire and blood #game of thrones

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